The McRae Series 01 - Twelve Days Sam and Rachel

upset enough already."
    "I won't upset her," the girl claimed.
    "Oh, yes, you will." He was certain of it.
    Looking scared, the girl asked, "Are you gonna send us away?"
    "Rachel said you're staying, so that's it. You're staying," he said, then decided as reassurances went, it sounded fairly weak. "And I'll be in a better mood tomorrow."
    "Okay," she said tentatively.
    "It's not that I dislike kids," he explained. "And I'm not usually like this. I'm not usually so loud or so..."
    "Grumpy?" she suggested.
    Sam winced. "Yes," he said grumpily. "It's just... It's been a bad day."
    It was the day he had finally said it out loud. He was leaving his wife.
    That made it real, didn't it? He hated it, and saying it out loud made it real. It seemed he could hear the clock ticking in his head, counting down his last days with Rachel. He'd set into motion a horrible thing, and he worried that he could never take it back, now that he'd started it.
    Sam looked up and saw the girl regarding him warily. Damn . "Don't worry," he said. "Rachel's... well, she's the best. She'll take good care of you."
    "I can watch Zach and the baby. I'm good at it. If you'll just let us stay, I can keep them out of your way. We won't be much trouble." Seeing Sam throwing paper towels over pieces of glass and puddles of milk at the moment, Emma reconsidered. "Well, not much trouble."
    "I meant it, Emma. You can stay," he said, not looking at her, concentrating on the mess. Working with wood was messy. Messes didn't bother him. Rachel getting hurt would. "Until after Christmas, anyway. That's what Rachel's aunt said. She'll find someone else to take you by then."
    "Okay."
    "And you don't have to take care of anybody," he felt compelled to add. She was just a girl. "Rachel's always wanted kids. She'll enjoy having you here."
    "She seems nice. Just... sad."
    Sam dumped the worst of the mess in the garbage can in the corner and frowned. "She is sad. Maybe you and Zach and the baby can cheer her up."
    Sam wanted that. He wanted all the old hurts to go away, and he didn't see how that was going to happen if they were still together. So he was letting her go, hoping she'd find someone else who could make her happy. He sure as hell hadn't, not for a long time.
    And maybe somewhere along the way, he'd learn to be happy, too.
    Happy without Rachel? He shook his head. He'd never imagined that, and he thought it was the ultimate in irony, now when he'd given up and decided to go, that someone had brought three children into their lives, however temporary that might be. He'd always thought she could have been happy with him if they'd had children.
    "We could help," Emma said quite seriously, but hopefully. "Zack is kind of silly, and everybody likes Grace. Everybody smiles at her."
    The look on her little face was so earnest Sam could hardly look at her. He felt like the big bad wolf, snarling and showing his teeth, terrifying already traumatized children. God, he hated himself today. He leaned against the doorjamb, suddenly so tired he could hardly stand up, feeling so old, so worn down. Hell, he was only thirty-two years old. How could he be this tired?
    "We'll have a better day tomorrow," he said. Surely he could do better tomorrow.
    Emma bid him a wary good-bye. Sam finished cleaning up the mess, then went to find Miriam. She owed him some answers. They faced off on the front porch, so the kids and Rachel wouldn't hear.
    "What do you think you're doing, Miriam?"
    "Trying to help those children."
    "Bull."
    "It is not. And watch your mouth. I'm a lady."
    "Miriam—"
    "Sam, don't hate me anymore for what happened with Will, okay? I love you and Rachel, and I tried my best to help you and that boy. Taking him away from here was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do."
    "I don't want to talk about Will," he said. "I want to talk about these kids. What do you know about these kids?"
    "Not much. They're all siblings, we think. We think they gave us their real first names, but they won't tell us their last name or where they're from or what their mother's or father's name is. A clerk at the Drifter said they checked in four days ago with a woman he assumed was their mother. She paid cash for two nights, gave him a false address in Pennsylvania and a fake name, and he never saw her again. He opened the room on the third day, when she hadn't checked out or paid for another night, and found the kids inside, waiting for their mother to come back."
    "Shit!" Sam said.