The McRae Series 01 - Twelve Days Sam and Rachel

was nearly out the bedroom door.
    He turned back around. "Yes."
    "You're really a nice man. I wasn't sure when we first came here. I was—"
    "Scared of me, Emma?" he suggested.
    "A little."
    "I'm sorry. Rachel and I were going through some rough times."
    "Because of the baby?"
    "That was part of it. That's always been part of it. But other things, too. We haven't had a lot of reasons to be happy lately. But it's better now. Having you and Zach and Grace here has helped a lot."
    "You're going to be sad again if we go?"
    "I don't know what's going to happen here if you go," he told her quite honestly.
    "We could come back and visit," Emma suggested.
    Sam nodded, touched. "That might help."
    "I'd miss you both if we left."
    "We'd miss you, too," he said. So much so that they wouldn't survive it? Sam just didn't know. He turned out the light and said, "Go to sleep, Emma. Try not to worry so much."
    And then he walked downstairs, feeling about a thousand years old and every bit as lost as he'd ever been in his life.
    He walked into the front room and found his wife there, her arms wrapped around her midsection as she stared down into the fire. Sam was so shocked he nearly stumbled over a toy Zach had left on the floor. He swore, barely managed to catch himself. Rachel jumped and whirled around herself.
    He checked his first impulse, which was to grab her and demand to know where she'd been and what she had been thinking worrying him so. But there was something in the way she stood there, the way she held her body. He was suddenly afraid of what she might tell him and what had sent her rushing off into the night away from him.
    It had torn him up to see her walking away from him. He wanted her so badly he ached, wanted her in every way a man could want a woman.
    There wasn't as much standing between them as there used to be. It didn't seem as insurmountable as before. But he was going to Shepherdsville tomorrow. He might well find the children's mother, and then where would he and Rachel be?
    "Hi," she whispered.
    "Where have you been?" he practically growled, as he had at the kids that first night. When he was worried or scared, he sounded way too much like his grandfather.
    "I just had to get away for a few minutes."
    "Rachel, it's been nearly two hours."
    "Oh." She looked surprised. "I'm sorry. You were worried?"
    He wanted to scream. "Yes, I was worried."
    "I'm sorry."
    She looked a bit dazed, and she'd definitely been crying. "Where did you go?"
    "Walking."
    "In this? It's twenty-eight degrees out there." He knew because he'd checked. It was probably colder than that by now.
    "I ended up at church. The kids are practicing for the Christmas program, and Father Tim was there. We talked. About a lot of things."
    Sam waited, wondering what took her there. Rachel hadn't had much use for church in years. She'd dragged him there with her when they'd been younger, and he'd gone to please her. And maybe he'd found some comfort there, too, before. Before they'd both gotten so angry at the world and felt so betrayed by everything, so lost.
    "We talked about the baby," she said.
    Always the baby, he thought. They couldn't seem to get past the loss.
    "It helped," she said. "And talking to you helped. Or maybe I'm just ready, finally, to deal with it. We never really dealt with it, Sam, and it's been like a poison to us."
    He knew that. He'd just never known how to change that.
    "Do you ever think about where she is now?"
    "No." He wouldn't let himself.
    "I used to try not to. I used to have nightmares where I'd hear her crying and I couldn't find her, but I thought about it tonight. Father Tim made me, and she's okay, Sam. I know she's okay."
    "How do you know?" How could anyone?
    "I just do. I believe it. And I'm not worried about her anymore. I may always be sad that we had so little time with her, but even that doesn't seem to have the sting it used to. I think she's out there waiting for us somewhere. I think we'll have her again someday."
    Sam would like to believe that. As skeptical as he'd always been about anything to do with heaven and anyone's ideas of what it would be like, he would love to believe that their daughter was somewhere safe and happy and waiting for them, that they'd see her again someday. He'd never seen Rachel so calm when she talked about their daughter.
    He frowned at her, looking at her more closely now. Yes, there was evidence of tears in her eyes and on her cheeks, but she was different, too.
    "I'm