Twelve Days (28 page)

The sheriff looked troubled. "I know where you two are from, and... Well, I get the bulletins that go out to all the sheriffs in the state. I think I can put together what happened here, and I understand your not wanting to say too much. I don't want to do anything to put those kids in danger."

"So what can we do?" Sam asked.

"The way I see it, this Jane Doe is my problem. I need to know who she is. Now that you've given me a lead, I think I'll ask somebody from the hospital to pull the records from the time Annie Greene was there in the past. We'll check the blood types, maybe see that Annie had broken the same bones in the same places in the past as my Jane Doe. If they match, I'd say I have cause to go see what George's been up to in the past couple of weeks. Maybe I can scare him into talking. That woman dies, I'm looking for a murder suspect. I want that man in jail every bit as much as you do," the sheriff explained. "The way I see it, the safety of my town's my first priority. I don't see any need to go looking for Annie's kids right now. Besides, she had two kids. Not three. And her oldest girl had a different name. I don't see the connection. At least not now."

"Thanks, Whit," Joe said. "We appreciate it."

The man nodded and got to his feet. "I'll be in touch."

Sam waited until the sheriff was gone and then looked across the table to Joe, who'd been with the sheriff's office since Sam first came to Baxter. Sam laughed, thinking about the irony of what just happened.

"What?" Joe asked.

"I never expected to have a couple of cops helping me with anything."

Joe smiled, too. "Hey, it's been a long time."

"Yeah, it has."

"I never expected you to stick around or to make something of yourself," he admitted. "I think I owe you an apology, too. I think we hauled you in for questioning a few times at least when you really hadn't done anything."

"Don't worry about it," Sam said. "I think I did a few things you and your boss never found out about."

Joe laughed with him then. "It's funny how things turn out."

"Yeah, it is."

"Which reminds me. Sally and I've been meaning to call you. She's got her eye on the Wallace place, has for years. I know the damned house has to be a hundred years old. Can't imagine what she's thinking, but she wants it and that woman's almost always found a way to get anything she wants from me. She thinks we might be able to make something of the place. Or that you could."

Sam grinned. "You have a small fortune hidden away somewhere?"

"I'm a small-town cop. What do you think?"

"We could take it slow," Sam offered. "You could probably do some of the work yourself. Isn't one of Sally's brothers a plumber?"

"Yeah."

"That ought to be worth something to you right now."

Joe rolled his eyes and swore. "Just what I need. A money-guzzling shack."

"Give me a call. I think I'm going to owe you a favor."

"Oh, hell, Sam. I'd have been mad if you hadn't called for something like this. You're a part of this town now. We stick together, look out for each other."

Sam nodded. He knew the people of Baxter did. He just hadn't realized he was considered one of them.

"I need to get back," Joe said. "I'll call you as soon as I hear anything."

Sam thanked him again and headed home himself, just remembering as he came into town that it was Christmas Eve. He didn't know whether to hope this woman in the hospital was Annie Greene or not. She was so sick she might never wake up, and he didn't want Emma or Zach to lose her. Grace was so young, she wouldn't remember her, but Emma and Zach would. He didn't want to have to tell them their mother was gone, and at the same time, he didn't want Rachel to have to let these children go. He didn't want to do that himself.

And he had no idea how to work out any of this so that no one ended up with a broken heart.

* * *

When Sam got home, Rachel was getting Zach ready and Grace was asleep, but Emma was waiting for him. From the worried look on her face, he knew he had to tell her something and he didn't want to do it here.

"I need some help," he told Emma, before she could ask him a thing. "I'm not quite done with my shopping..."

Rachel laughed. God, he loved hearing Rachel laugh again. "He always waits until the very last minute," she told Emma.

"Will you come with me?" he asked. "And help me?"

"Okay," Emma said.

Rachel looked surprised and he knew she wanted to ask what was going on, but he cut her off.

"We'll hurry," he promised.

"We have to be at church at six," she reminded him.

"Church?" Zach frowned.

"Yes, church," Rachel said. "There's more to Christmas than Santa."

Sam promised he and Emma would be back in time. Emma followed him to his truck and said, "We're going shopping?"

"Yes," he said. "Rachel needs a present."

"Oh."

She let it go at that and Sam tried to figure out what to say to her about her mother. He really didn't know anything for sure.

He glanced over at her finally, after driving for a few minutes, sitting silently beside him looking at all the windows of the shops. She looked so sad. He didn't want her to be sad.

"Rachel really should have something from you and Zack," Sam said, hoping to distract her and give himself some time to think. "Will you pick something out?"

"I don't have any money," Emma said.

"That's okay. You pick and I'll pay. It'll come from all of us. Do you know of anything she needs?"

"No."

"Well, maybe we'll find something." He parked in front of one of the two women's clothing stores in town and they walked in. There was Christmas music coming through the speakers in the store and a festive, if slightly desperate air about the place. It was Christmas Eve after all.

The clerk, Jamie Cousins, whose husband worked with Sam, greeted him by name and gave them a warm smile. "Waiting til the last minute again, Sam?"

Emma laughed a bit at that and Sam admitted that he was. They wandered around the store, Sam following Emma, who paused in front of a display of thick terry-cloth bathrobes.

"Rachel's has a hole in it," she told him.

"It does?"

Emma nodded. "And Zack spilled grape juice on it the other day. Grape juice is hard to clean up."

Sam frowned, thinking a bathrobe was as good a present as any. He'd gotten Rachel something else already, something he hoped she'd like, and this would be fine coming from the kids. He fingered the thick material in a pale, pale pink. It was soft, and he supposed it would be warm.

"You don't like it?" Emma asked.

"No. It's fine," he claimed, picking it up.

And then his gaze caught on a flash of blue in the corner. He liked Rachel in blue, and this was the color of her eyes. Sam walked over to the silk robe and pulled it off a dainty, thickly padded hanger that was more suited to one of those lingerie stores at the mall than downtown Baxter.

Jamie walked over to him and took the terry cloth robe from him. "Going to be practical, Sam? Or not?"

He flushed a bit, caught fingering the silky robe and thinking about what his wife would look like in it.

"That's pretty, too," Emma said, oh so innocently.

"Practical is nice, but it only goes so far," Jamie claimed. "Especially at Christmas."

Sam wasn't thinking of being practical at all. He was thinking of what his chances were of seeing Rachel in the midnight silk robe. Maybe he had some hope left in him after all.

"We'll take both," he told Jamie.

Jamie smiled knowingly.

"Both?" the ever-practical Emma asked.

"Yes," he said, refusing to be embarrassed. "You and Zach can give her the pink one, and I'll give her the other one. Or maybe I'll save it for another day. Her birthday's not long after Christmas. Maybe I won't wait for the last minute for that."

Emma still frowned, probably at what she saw as the extravagance of buying two robes at a time, Emma who'd likely spent her whole life in hand-me-downs, too rapidly outgrowing everything she had when there was little money to buy more.

He paid for the robes and waited while they were wrapped. He and Emma were back in the truck, almost home, when he couldn't wait any longer to bring up the subject of her mother.

"I guess we need to talk about something else, too, before we get back to the house."

Emma just looked at him, with so much hope it nearly broke his heart.

"I'm sorry, Em," he said quickly.

"You didn't find my mom?" she choked out.

"Not yet."

"But you tried? That's where you were all day?"

"Yes. I tried." He felt as if he'd failed her and hated the idea. He wanted to make everything all better for Emma, too.

Her face fell. Her bottom lip quivered but she stubbornly fought back tears.

"Hey, this was just the first day," Sam said. "Just because I didn't find her the first day..."

"You won't give up?"

"No," he promised. "I'll never give up."

Chapter 15

Rachel had never faced a Christmas Eve with as much anticipation or dread. It seemed her whole life had come down to what happened in the next twenty-four hours. They'd have this one day, and then her husband would make his decision. He would either stay or go. Her whole life was about to change, and she had to keep reminding herself—one good Christmas. That was what she'd vowed to give them all, and it was upon them. She wouldn't let herself ruin it by worrying about what would come later.

Sam and Emma came home, and they had to rush to get to the six o'clock service at church. The bells atop the old stone church were ringing when they arrived, the front steps adorned with poinsettias and greenery strung along the rails. Inside, the lights had been dimmed and there were candles burning on the altar, the whole place seeming to glow.

The organist was already playing Christmas music softly and people spoke in hushed tones, feeling the reverence of the evening.

Rachel remembered the feeling of peace she'd found here the night before, the sense of hope, and it was all here tonight. She still felt it as they settled into a pew near the back and on the right.

"Is it almost time?" Zach asked, still looking for Santa.

"Not quite," Rachel said. "What did we say? Church. Dinner. A story. Bedtime. Then Santa."

He gave a long-suffering-child sigh.

Someone else crowded into the already packed pew, and Rachel found herself pressed tightly against her husband's side. Grace started babbling, trying to get Sam to talk to her. Sam put his arm around Rachel's shoulders and touched a fingertip to Grace's chin. She giggled at him and cooed and batted her eyelashes.

"She is going to be a knockout someday," he said. "She'll give her father fits for sure."

"I know," Rachel said, wondering if he wanted to be her father. If he'd stay if the children did.

He'd said no more half measures between them, and she supposed staying for the children would definitely be that. What would it take for him to want to stay?

He looked so handsome tonight and smelled faintly of Old Spice; she'd bought him his first bottle of it their first Christmas together, and he'd never worn anything else. His hair was still damp from his quick shower, and it was jet-black and curling a bit at the ends. He hadn't shaved, and it was late enough in the evening that she knew just how his slightly roughened cheek would feel against her skin. She knew how soft his mouth was, how strong his arms were, how safe she'd always felt there.

Seeing him now with Grace... She loved seeing him like this, seeing all the gentleness and kindness and love inside of him that she always knew was there. He might hide it from the rest of the world most of the time, but she'd always known. These children did, too, despite the rocky start they had with Sam.

He bent over to tickle Grace's chin again, and she cackled in delight, then held her arms out to him. Sam took her, one-handed, with Rachel's help. She was standing on his lap, his arm around her middle, and she put her chubby little hands against his cheeks and patted them, then either tried to kiss his nose or take a bite out of it. Grace laughed at that, and she made Sam laugh, too.

Rachel felt a twinge in the region of her heart and said, "You would have made a wonderful father."

Sam looked at her, unsettled and too serious in a moment's time.

"It's okay," she said. "I'm not going to cry or run away from it anymore. We had a child once, and you would have been a wonderful father to her. You still could be."

Sam still didn't say anything. Grace looked a bit puzzled and stared from one of them to the next. "It's all right," Sam whispered to her.

"I'm better now, Sam," Rachel said. "I've changed. I think you've changed, too, and that I've finally grown up. I'm not that silly, spoiled girl anymore."

"I liked that girl," he said. "I didn't think she was silly at all. I thought she was sunshine and laughter and everything good in this world. And I always wanted to spoil her myself. I wanted to give her everything."

"She just wanted you," Rachel said. "All along. Just you."