The McRae Series 01 - Twelve Days Sam and Rachel

at that.
    "I couldn't," she said. "But I'm stronger than I used to be. And more determined this time."
    She was going to do her best to save her marriage and to help these children, no matter what. It felt like the most grown-up decision she'd made in years. Maybe in her whole life. And there was nothing Miriam could say to change her mind.
    * * *
    Rachel put breakfast on the table twenty minutes later, and a sleepy but hungry Zach dug in. Even Emma ate more than usual. Grace was after the jam more than anything else. She kept grabbing at the bits of a jam biscuit Rachel was trying to feed her until she got her hands on the whole thing. Quite pleased with herself, she tried to shove all of it in her mouth at once and ended up with jam everywhere, all over her hands and her mouth and her bib, even in her hair.
    It was strawberry, and she looked like she'd decorated herself for Christmas. Everyone laughed at her, and she laughed, too, then started sucking the jam off her tiny fingers. Sam stayed to eat with them and to help clean up. He and Emma loaded the dishwasher while Rachel got the things for Grace's bath, and they put her in the sink again.
    Emma went off to help Zach get dressed, and Sam stayed in the kitchen with Rachel. She probably could have bathed the baby herself, but maybe Grace wanted Sam closer, too, because she squirmed for all she was worth and generally gave Rachel a hard time until Sam stepped in and held her slippery, soapy body while Rachel did her best to wash her. All the while Grace gazed up at Sam adoringly and batted her wet lashes at him, temptress that she was. Rachel laughed at her, wondering if some females were just born with that gene.
    "She's flirting with you," Rachel said.
    "She's a baby."
    "Look at her. She's flirting. You haven't been out of circulation so long that you don't recognize flirting, do you?" Rachel said, and then had a terrible thought.
    He was planning to leave her. She forgot that at times, and she thought she knew the reason—that it was simply too painful to stay. But there were other possibilities. Scared, she looked up at him, so tall and so strong. So solid. Her rock. She spoke before she even thought about it.
    "Tell me no one else is flirting with you, Sam."
    She saw his gaze narrow in on hers, saw the questions in his eyes. "What are you talking about?"
    "I—"And then it was gone. All that courage, that reckless impulsiveness, gone. She couldn't ask. She wasn't ready for what he'd say when she did, was hoping the last few days together had changed everything.
    "What?" he asked again.
    "Nothing. I was being silly. That's all."
    "You think I've been seeing someone else?" he asked.
    "I... I don't know what I think." She knew she'd reached out to him, that she'd kissed him and talked him into sleeping in their bed, but he hadn't stayed for long and he hadn't made love to her. And he was planning to leave. "Except that I wish things were different between us."
    "It's not another woman, Rachel," he said softly, taking her chin in one hand and turning her to face him. Looking right into her eyes, he said, "It's never been that."
    "Okay."
    He frowned. "You don't believe me?"
    "I have to." She couldn't let herself believe anything else.
    "I would never do that to you," he said. "I'd never hurt you like that."
    "I didn't really think you would. But..."
    "Things still aren't right," he finished for her.
    "No, things still aren't right," she said, curling her body against his, her forehead against his shoulder.
    Grace sat quietly in the shallow water for a moment, gazing up at them, as if to say, What's wrong? What could possibly be wrong? Sam had one of his big, strong hands at her back, ready to catch her should she topple over, and Rachel touched a fingertip to the baby's delicate, upturned nose, and then her chin, winning a broad smile from her and a cooing sound.
    "It's helped having her here," Sam said, his arm slipping around Rachel's waist. "And maybe it even helped to talk about our baby. I... I've always wanted to tell you how sorry I am for that," he said raggedly. "It feels so stupid, to ever think words could matter in something like this, but I've still felt the need to say them. More than anything, I wanted to hear you say you forgive me, but I didn't see how you possibly could, so I just never said the words. I didn't think I could, not without..."
    She looked up and saw tears in his eyes.
    "Shit," he muttered. "Not without this."
    "I don't blame you.