The McRae Series 01 - Twelve Days Sam and Rachel

later and sat down beside her. She didn't say anything at first, just pulled Emma against her side and held on to her.
    "What's wrong, Emma?"
    "It's almost Christmas. I was sure that if I could just hang on until Christmas, my mom would be back."
    "And now you don't think she's coming?"
    "I don't know. I don't know anything anymore."
    "You know she loves you," Rachel reminded her.
    "Yes." She was sure of that. She could hold on to that.
    "And Zach and Grace love you," Rachel said. "I love you, too."
    She gave her a big squeeze and Emma thought about that. About having Rachel love her. Rachel was a good person. She was kind and nice and she'd taken such good care of all of them. Sam, too. She thought Sam might love them a little bit, too. And this was a good place to be. She didn't want them to think she was ungrateful.
    "I like you and Sam a lot," she said. "I do. It's just..."
    "You still miss your mother. I understand that. And how much you want her back. I know it's hard, but sometimes we just have to hope, Emma. Sometimes that's all we have to hold on to. Hope. Do you think you can hold out just a little longer? Can you find just a little bit of hope and a smidgen of faith? And believe that everything's going to be okay?"
    Emma nodded, too upset to even say a single word. She just leaned into Rachel and let Rachel hold her, which was almost as good as having her mom's arms around her.
    She thought she had just enough hope and faith left to hang on until Christmas, but that was it.
    Tomorrow... She didn't know what she'd do tomorrow if her mother wasn't back.
    * * *
    Rachel went back downstairs to sit in front of the fire, brushing away a few stray tears. She didn't want Sam to see them, had promised herself she wouldn't cry at all. But Emma was so sad, and Rachel knew what her Christmas wishes were all about, Zach's too.
    Not tonight, she told herself firmly. Not tomorrow, either. They would take the day and all it had to offer, worry later about what came after.
    She looked up and saw Sam standing in the doorway looking so handsome in the gentle light of the fire. She forgot sometimes; she'd been looking at him for so long, but he was a truly handsome man. There was still a hint of that bad boy she'd fallen in love with so long ago, the slightly dangerous one. But there was so much more, too. So much more she loved about him.
    Which made her think about what she wanted for Christmas. She wanted him to stay.
    "What in the world are you thinking?" he asked.
    "About what I want for Christmas," she said, way too seriously, then, determined to lighten the mood, imagined what he'd do if she walked over to him, tied a red ribbon around him, and said she'd picked out her own present, thank you very much. She'd take him.
    He arched a brow at that and looked puzzled. She remembered Christmas mornings they'd spent snuggling in bed, hiding from the cold in what was once this drafty, old house. Christmases spent laughing and playing in the snow. Christmases spent missing all the people they'd lost. So many Christmases. So many years with Sam.
    "I can't imagine my life without you," she said, remembering courage, faith, hope, a vow she'd made to do her best to salvage this marriage.
    "Why would you be thinking of your life without me, Rachel?"
    She gathered up all her courage and knew it was time. It was long past time. "I think you know why, Sam."
    He shook his head back and forth, but she saw the tension coming into his entire body. She hadn't meant to do this on Christmas Eve, but she was all out of time. In a day and a half, he was supposed to go, and the hardest thing of all to admit was that she would let him go, if that's what he had to do.
    "I told you I want you, and I'll never ask you to leave, but, Sam, if you want to go... If you don't think you can be happy here with me. If I haven't loved you enough or made you feel like you belong here with me. If it takes leaving me for you to be happy, then go, Sam. Because I want you to be happy."
    She did it without a single tear falling, did it looking him straight in the eye, and thought he looked as miserable as she'd ever seen him.
    "You know?" he whispered.
    "I heard you talking to Rick on the phone the day the children came."
    He looked away for a moment, looked as if the breath simply left his body. "Oh, God, Rachel," he said. "I'm sorry."
    And then her tears wouldn't stay away. They rolled down her cheeks.
    "Don't be sorry," she insisted, her head held high. "I know