The McRae Series 01 - Twelve Days Sam and Rachel

and whispering over every boy they passed, or going to parties or anything like that.
    "When you first met Sam," Emma asked, "what was it you liked about him?"
    "Everything," Rachel said. "Absolutely everything. He was only a year ahead of me in school, although he's two years older than I am. He's from Chicago, but after his parents died, he missed a lot of school. By the time he settled in here in Baxter with his grandfather, he was a year behind. He seemed so much older than the other boys, so much taller and broader and more solid.
    "He was quiet, kept to himself, and all the girls made fools of themselves over him. He had those black eyes and black hair, and he was so intense, so serious. I don't think he was very happy here. You know how some people, particularly when they get old, seem to have permanent scowls on their faces, and they're always mad about something?"
    "Yes," Emma said.
    "Sam's grandfather was like that. He was rude and unhappy and kept to himself. I can't imagine he was thrilled to have Sam with him, and Sam must have felt the same way, because he never seemed to be there. I'd walk into town with my mother or my sisters, and I'd see Sam standing on the corner of some street, just watching everyone. Or he'd be in the park, planted against the trunk of a tree as if he were the only thing holding it up. He made people nervous, I think, because he was so big and had a way of watching everyone, hardly saying a word or ever smiling. My mother called him 'that wild boy.' "
    Emma laughed.
    Rachel laughed, too, then shook her head. "Nobody here really knew him or what he was like then. They just knew his grandfather and didn't like him. Small towns can be like that. People watch everybody else, and they always have an opinion. I don't think they were fair to Sam back then."
    "But you liked him?" Emma said.
    "Yes. I couldn't stop thinking about him. I had long, imaginary conversations with him in my head, because I was too shy to talk to him in person, and I just stared at him, the way he stared at everyone else."
    "Did he like you?" Emma asked.
    "Mostly, he ignored me. He called me a little girl one day and told me to run along home to my mother. He didn't even know my name, and I was absolutely crushed. I was sure he was a much better person than anyone realized. He got into some trouble as he got older. Mostly just fighting with the boys his age, but he was so much bigger than the other kids, and people were ready to blame him for everything. It wasn't fair at all."
    "So how did you get him to notice you?" Emma asked.
    "I didn't really. Jimmy Richardson did. Jimmy was an obnoxious boy, but his father owned the Ford dealership in town and unlike Sam's grandfather, everybody liked Jimmy's dad. I was fifteen and Jimmy was pestering me, grabbing me and trying to kiss me. I think it was his way of flirting, but I didn't appreciate it. One day after school, Sam grabbed Jimmy and told him that when a girl said to take his hands off her, Jimmy had better do it. Or else. Jimmy didn't appreciate that at all and they got into a fight. Sam got into trouble. Jimmy didn't.
    "I tried to tell everyone what happened, but no one really listened. They all said Sam overreacted, that everything would have been fine if he hadn't grabbed Jimmy like that. But I was there. I know what happened. I didn't want Jimmy's hands on me at all, and Sam was just trying to help."
    "So you were friends then?"
    "More or less. I spent a lot of time defending him to anyone who'd listen, and Sam spent some more time ignoring me and telling me I was wasting my breath trying to change anybody's mind about him. But in the end, we did get to be friends. He's the best friend I ever had."
    Rachel's voice broke. She had to work hard to clear her throat.
    He'd been so big and tall and handsome, quiet when she got him alone, intense, sexy in a way she was just beginning to understand at the time. But kind to her, protective of her, gentle with her. Sometimes she thought her heart would burst from happiness, just to think that someday she might be his.
    Her parents had been horrified—their daughter was smitten with that wild boy who had to be up to no good. But nothing they said could convince Rachel to forget about him.
    She and Sam hadn't dated much. She hadn't been allowed to date until her sixteenth birthday. But she saw him at school. They'd arrange to meet at the edge of town and go for long walks along the river, and they'd talk about