The McRae Series 01 - Twelve Days Sam and Rachel

understood.
    "Emma, when I was a little older than Zach, one of the neighbors came to pick me up from school and said my parents couldn't come get me that day, that I couldn't go home, either. And they were upset. Everybody was upset, and nobody wanted to tell me anything. I think maybe I was afraid to ask because I already knew something terrible had happened.
    "The next day, they took me to my house, and my parents still weren't there. My great aunt and her husband were. I didn't know them that well. They lived fifty miles away. And they told me my mother and father weren't ever coming back. That they'd gone to live with God, and that I had to live with my great aunt and her husband. And I did. I never saw my parents again."
    "My mother's coming back," Emma insisted.
    Sam waited, thinking she might see some parallels between his story and hers, fighting off his own memories of that time. He'd been six and terrified. Everything familiar in his world, he'd lost. From that point on, no place he'd ever been had felt like home. He'd thought for a while he'd find that with Rachel. Not that it mattered now. This was about Emma.
    "You've never been through anything like that?" he asked carefully. "You don't ever remember living with anyone else?"
    "No." Emma eyed him suspiciously. "She's always been my mom."
    But Emma was hiding something. He could tell. As sad as she was, she was also very nervous. She'd also cried her eyes out. Yesterday, he'd done this to Zach, and today he'd done it to Emma. Would the baby be crying because of him tomorrow? Was he going to terrorize all three of them?
    "All right." He sighed, letting it go, and got to his feet. "I'm sorry I upset you. I'm just... I do want to help you. Rachel and I both do. And I know how scary it is, to have to go live in a new place where everything is different. I've done it so many times, Emma. That's why I know this is a good place for you. Rachel is a wonderful person, and she'll take good care of you and your brother and the baby."
    "Okay," she said miserably.
    "Try not to worry so much, okay?" he said, feeling about a hundred years old at the moment.
    "Okay."
    And then he heard the baby going, "Muh, Muh," which Rachel thought was Grace's attempt at saying Emma. When he turned around, there was Rachel, the baby in her arms.
    The baby grinned at Emma, but Rachel was staring at Sam, what might have been shock and surprise, probably even hurt in her eyes.
    He turned away, not able to even look at her then, thinking, What had he said? But he remembered. He'd told Emma about losing his parents, about all the other places he'd been. And that was something he'd never told his wife, something he never told anyone.
    * * *
    He couldn't explain anything in front of the children, just said that they had to rush to get to the doctor's office, Miriam's orders. They fed the children and left for Dr. Wilson's.
    Zach was uneasy. Emma tried to comfort him. Sam pulled Rachel aside and told her quickly about the couple in Virginia and what Emma had said. Rachel hugged the baby closer and asked, "What about Grace?"
    "They don't know. Miriam said it may well be nothing, that people who've had children snatched away from them look at a lot of photographs of children and always want to believe they've found theirs."
    "It's so awful." Rachel rubbed her cheek against the baby's head.
    "Miriam said not to borrow trouble. To just wait for the test results."
    Rachel nodded and she looked so sad. Sam found himself wanting to reach out to her in a way he hadn't in a long time. She was still his wife, he reminded himself. He still had the right. So he did. His hand cupped her cheek, and it was every bit as smooth as he remembered, every bit as soft to touch. He came a step closer, ran his thumb along her cheek, and fought the urge to take her mouth beneath his, to comfort her. There'd been a time when she'd found comfort in his arms, in his kisses.
    "We'll get them through this, Rachel. We can do that for them."
    "I know," she said. "Sam?"
    "Yes?"
    "What you said earlier? To Emma. You moved around a lot, to lots of different homes after your parents died?"
    "Yes," he admitted.
    "But... I thought... it was just your grandfather. I thought your parents died and then you came here to be with him."
    "Not exactly," he said, not liking at all the look in her eyes.
    He'd expected pity, and he knew what that looked like. No matter where he'd lived before, people always found out. The grown-ups, when