The McRae Series 01 - Twelve Days Sam and Rachel

tree.
    "That's two stories high," Sam said.
    "Is that bad?"
    Sam couldn't help but smile. He smiled a lot around this kid. "We couldn't get it in the front door, Zach."
    "How 'bout that one?" He pointed to one that was maybe fourteen feet.
    "We could probably get it in, but we'd have to cut a hole in the ceiling if we wanted it to stand up."
    "We could do that?" Zach asked earnestly.
    "No, but keep looking. You'll find one that's just right."
    They drove on. Somewhere along the way, Rachel relaxed against him, the baby held snug in her arms, looking truly like an angel.
    He'd almost gotten to the point where he could look at her and not think of their daughter, and not hurt, and he'd almost managed to stop thinking about having to send such a truly innocent, helpless child off into the world with someone who might abandon her again someday. He could almost look at her and simply smile back at her and appreciate how soft her skin was, how sweet she was when she cooed and patted his cheeks with her tiny hands. He could almost hold her in his arms and be happy, just to have her close.
    If he believed in miracles, he'd have said this was all meant to be. That he and Rachel were meant to come to exactly this point in their lives so they could be here for these children, just when the children needed them and when he and Rachel had to have the children to save themselves and their marriage.
    But Sam had stopped believing in miracles a long time ago.
    Hadn't he?
    Just then, Rachel slipped her hand into his, leaned her head against his shoulder. He didn't pull away, didn't try to harden himself against the feel of her so close to him. He just savored it and the moment and all the possibilities of what their lives might be.
    * * *
    It took an hour to find a tree everyone agreed upon, even longer with Zach helping to cut it down, tie it to the sleigh, and load up again.
    They were all so cold by the time they got back home, but so happy, too. Even though it was late, they built up the fire in the fireplace. Rachel made hot chocolate while he and Zach carried in the tree. They'd decorate it tomorrow, but they didn't want to leave it outside tonight. So they put it in its place in the front room, in front of one of the biggest windows, where it could be seen from the street. And sometime later, once the kids were in bed, Sam found himself sitting there staring into the fire, with Rachel, who sat down on the floor beside his chair, her head resting against his knee.
    "It was a good day," she said.
    "Yes," he agreed.
    "Zach adores you."
    "Zach's obviously in desperate need of a man in his life."
    "He adores you," Rachel insisted.
    "He's a great kid."
    "They all are," she said. "And I want to keep them. I promised Emma they could stay as long as they needed to."
    "I know. I heard."
    "I'm sorry, Sam. I shouldn't have said that without talking to you first. I... I don't know what happened. She was so worried, so sad, and I hadn't really thought it through. I didn't mean to say it. But it's what she needed to hear, and as I said the words, I knew they were true. I couldn't turn them away."
    "I couldn't, either," he conceded. That was probably inevitable, right from the start. It still had him angry and uneasy that she'd decided all on her own without talking to him first, but he let it go. He'd known she wouldn't be able to stop herself from loving them, which had him warning, "I'm afraid you're going to get hurt again, Rachel."
    "It's a risk, I know. But I can't tell them to go just to save me from the possibility of getting hurt again. Did you really think I was that selfish, Sam?"
    "I don't think you're selfish at all."
    "I do," she claimed. "I think I've spent too many years thinking about what I wanted, what I thought I deserved, and too little time thinking about you and what you want, what you deserve."
    "What are you talking about?"
    "Me. Being unfair to you."
    "You haven't been unfair to me."
    "I have. I've put my own wants and needs ahead of yours for years, for all the time we've been together."
    "Rachel, all I've ever wanted was you," he admitted. "For you to be happy."
    "What about you? When do you get to be happy?"
    "Is this about the baby? About you getting pregnant? Rachel, you didn't do that alone. You had help. I'm every bit as much to blame for that as you."
    "Blame?" Her face fell.
    "I didn't mean it like that," he said. "We talked about this the other day. The timing was awful. We both know that."
    "But I was