The McRae Series 01 - Twelve Days Sam and Rachel

"Without hope, you have nothing, Rachel, nothing but the life you have right now, and I don't think that's enough for you."
    "No. It isn't." But she'd hoped for so long. She'd prayed, and it didn't seem as if anyone were listening. "I've been patient. I've waited so long."
    "The good Lord doesn't work on your timetable. He has one that's all His own. You shouldn't forget that. Shouldn't try to rush Him, either."
    "I want to believe. It's just so hard," she complained. "I feel like one of those little blow-up punch-toys we had when we were kids, with the clown faces. You hit it, and it bounces right back up. I feel like I've been bouncing back forever, and there's just no more bounce left in me."
    "Then you know what?" Miriam asked. "You get to lay there on the floor, Rachel. Are you ready to just lay there on the floor forever?"
    Rachel smiled a bit. "Tough love, huh?"
    Miriam nodded. "I think I like it. People aren't going to mess with me anymore."

Chapter 2

    Sam would not be happy. Rachel left her aunt in the house with the children and with great trepidation made her way through the backyard to his office, in what was originally the carriage house.
    Long ago, Sam had wanted to be an architect, but instead he'd spent the last twelve years doing construction work in Baxter, Ohio, a little town of eight thousand people on the banks of the Ohio River, west of Cincinnati. A place he had never wanted to stay. He had worked with a local construction company and later started his own business. People were restoring the old places in record numbers in Baxter these days and willing to pay top dollar for quality work. The business had thrived in the past few years, when everything else had seemed to go so wrong, and Rachel was proud of what he'd accomplished.
    She opened the door, smelling sawdust and wood, missing the old days when he worked in the basement, when he was closer, and she saw more of him. He wasn't in the shop, but he had a small office in the back.
    As she got closer she heard him talking. Peeking in, she saw that he was on the phone and decided to wait until he was done to give herself time to think of what to say.
    She hadn't taken the kids upstairs to get them settled because she didn't want them or Miriam to see, but some of Sam's things were in the front bedroom.
    Because he wasn't sleeping in her bed anymore.
    Rachel wasn't even sure why. She just knew she hurt, that everything hurt. She didn't know if Sam did or not, because they didn't talk about it.
    But they had to talk today. She had to find a way to talk him into this. Sam hadn't wanted to take Will at first. He'd been willing to adopt, although that had never worked out for them. But he'd been strangely reluctant to even consider foster care. He said they could never know for sure what they were getting into with a foster child, what kind of environment the kids came from, how much damage had been done. He'd argued that some children were just too far gone to ever be saved.
    Unsalvageable children, written off completely. Rachel hated that idea.
    But after twelve years, she and Sam had tried everything else. She didn't see how they'd ever have children any other way, and now she feared they never would. When Will left, Sam said that was it. They were done trying. They weren't going to get their hearts broken like that ever again.
    Which meant she'd just have to talk him into this, just until after Christmas. She'd promised Miriam.
    Rachel forced a smile across her face and had to brace herself, just for the sight of her husband, the man she loved and had wanted from way back before all the bad times. But just before she opened the door, she heard something odd.
    "So the place'll be ready by Christmas?" Sam asked.
    That was odd. She didn't know of any job he was finishing by Christmas. In fact, he'd been at loose ends since he finished the Randall house five days ago, a full week earlier than he was scheduled to, and his next clients weren't about to let him start renovating their house until after the holidays. Sam did not like to be at loose ends. He didn't know what to do with himself.
    "Okay," she heard him say. "A few days later? Hell, Rick, you know I'm not picky. If anything's really wrong, I can fix it. Christmas is on a Monday this year, right? How about the Tuesday after Christmas?"
    What in the world? Rachel wondered.
    "I'll take it. A bed, a bathroom, and a kitchenette is fine. I don't need anything else."
    A bed? Why did Sam need a