The McRae Series 01 - Twelve Days Sam and Rachel

like it?" Emma asked.
    "No. It's fine," he claimed, picking it up.
    And then his gaze caught on a flash of blue in the corner. He liked Rachel in blue, and this was the color of her eyes. Sam walked over to the silk robe and pulled it off a dainty, thickly padded hanger that was more suited to one of those lingerie stores at the mall than downtown Baxter.
    Jamie walked over to him and took the terry cloth robe from him. "Going to be practical, Sam? Or not?"
    He flushed a bit, caught fingering the silky robe and thinking about what his wife would look like in it.
    "That's pretty, too," Emma said, oh so innocently.
    "Practical is nice, but it only goes so far," Jamie claimed. "Especially at Christmas."
    Sam wasn't thinking of being practical at all. He was thinking of what his chances were of seeing Rachel in the midnight silk robe. Maybe he had some hope left in him after all.
    "We'll take both," he told Jamie.
    Jamie smiled knowingly.
    "Both?" the ever-practical Emma asked.
    "Yes," he said, refusing to be embarrassed. "You and Zach can give her the pink one, and I'll give her the other one. Or maybe I'll save it for another day. Her birthday's not long after Christmas. Maybe I won't wait for the last minute for that."
    Emma still frowned, probably at what she saw as the extravagance of buying two robes at a time, Emma who'd likely spent her whole life in hand-me-downs, too rapidly outgrowing everything she had when there was little money to buy more.
    He paid for the robes and waited while they were wrapped. He and Emma were back in the truck, almost home, when he couldn't wait any longer to bring up the subject of her mother.
    "I guess we need to talk about something else, too, before we get back to the house."
    Emma just looked at him, with so much hope it nearly broke his heart.
    "I'm sorry, Em," he said quickly.
    "You didn't find my mom?" she choked out.
    "Not yet."
    "But you tried? That's where you were all day?"
    "Yes. I tried." He felt as if he'd failed her and hated the idea. He wanted to make everything all better for Emma, too.
    Her face fell. Her bottom lip quivered but she stubbornly fought back tears.
    "Hey, this was just the first day," Sam said. "Just because I didn't find her the first day..."
    "You won't give up?"
    "No," he promised. "I'll never give up."

Chapter 15

    Rachel had never faced a Christmas Eve with as much anticipation or dread. It seemed her whole life had come down to what happened in the next twenty-four hours. They'd have this one day, and then her husband would make his decision. He would either stay or go. Her whole life was about to change, and she had to keep reminding herself—one good Christmas. That was what she'd vowed to give them all, and it was upon them. She wouldn't let herself ruin it by worrying about what would come later.
    Sam and Emma came home, and they had to rush to get to the six o'clock service at church. The bells atop the old stone church were ringing when they arrived, the front steps adorned with poinsettias and greenery strung along the rails. Inside, the lights had been dimmed and there were candles burning on the altar, the whole place seeming to glow.
    The organist was already playing Christmas music softly and people spoke in hushed tones, feeling the reverence of the evening.
    Rachel remembered the feeling of peace she'd found here the night before, the sense of hope, and it was all here tonight. She still felt it as they settled into a pew near the back and on the right.
    "Is it almost time?" Zach asked, still looking for Santa.
    "Not quite," Rachel said. "What did we say? Church. Dinner. A story. Bedtime. Then Santa."
    He gave a long-suffering-child sigh.
    Someone else crowded into the already packed pew, and Rachel found herself pressed tightly against her husband's side. Grace started babbling, trying to get Sam to talk to her. Sam put his arm around Rachel's shoulders and touched a fingertip to Grace's chin. She giggled at him and cooed and batted her eyelashes.
    "She is going to be a knockout someday," he said. "She'll give her father fits for sure."
    "I know," Rachel said, wondering if he wanted to be her father. If he'd stay if the children did.
    He'd said no more half measures between them, and she supposed staying for the children would definitely be that. What would it take for him to want to stay?
    He looked so handsome tonight and smelled faintly of Old Spice; she'd bought him his first bottle of it their first Christmas together, and