Samantha's Gift Read online

  He darted a look in Rachel’s direction and shrugged, silently denying any collusion on his part. When Samantha barreled up to him, he caught her and swung her off the ground.

  “Hi. How’s my best girl?”

  The child giggled. “She’s fine. Me, too.”

  “I meant you, you little stinker,” he said fondly. “Stop trying to get me in trouble with your teacher.”

  “Angels never get in trouble,” Samantha told him in a stage whisper that could easily be heard all the way to where Rachel stood.

  “I’ve been meaning to talk you about that,” Sean said. “What makes you think I’m an angel?”

  “’Cause you’re nice. And you help people. Just like on TV.”

  “I see.” Sean was beginning to feel a lot better about the child’s fantasies. “You mean the program where the angels look just like regular people?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  With a nod and a satisfied sigh, Sean put Samantha down. “Good. You go play now. I need to talk to your teacher.”

  The eager little girl wasn’t about to be distracted. She circled him. “Can I see your wings? Please?”

  “I don’t have any wings,” Sean said.

  “But you can still fly, can’t you?”

  “Sorry. I can’t do that, either.”

  “Not even float? Not even a little?”

  “Nope. I’m afraid not.”

  “Bummer,” the child murmured, pouting.

  Watching the interplay between the handsome man and exuberant child, Rachel had covered her mouth to hide her smile. Now, she pressed her fingertips to her lips to keep from bursting into giggles.

  As soon as Samantha dashed onto the porch in pursuit of her canine playmate, Rachel glanced up at Sean. There was so much merriment in his eyes and on his face, she had to chuckle in spite of her best efforts to contain herself.

  “You sure you don’t have wings?” she teased.

  “Positive. Do you?”

  “Not the last time I looked.”

  He made a silly pout reminiscent of Samantha’s, lowered his already deep voice and said, “Bummer.”

  That was the last straw. Rachel erupted into laughter. By the time she finally regained control of herself there were tears rolling down her cheeks. She dashed them away. “I’m sorry. I tried not to lose it but…”

  Sean was chuckling, too. “I know what you mean. I can see her mistaking you for an angel, but I sure can’t picture myself that way.”

  “Thanks—I think.”

  “You’re welcome.” Continuing to laugh softly he looked toward the porch where Samantha was playing tug-of-war with the low-slung dog. “Has she asked to see your wings, yet?”

  “No.” Rachel sobered. “Has she told you any more about seeing angels right after her parents were killed?”

  “I haven’t broached the subject. I’ve just let her talk about whatever she wants to, and that hasn’t come up.”

  “Probably because she figures all us angels already know everything,” Rachel offered. “Do you think it would hurt if I came right out and asked her for details?”

  “It might. Give her time. She’ll discuss it more when she’s ready.”

  Sighing, Rachel gazed with fondness at the lovely blond five-year-old. “I wish we knew more about the circumstances behind this obsession she has with angels.”

  I don’t think there’s anything to worry about,” Sean said. “She apparently got the idea from watching TV. The concept fit her current life, so she used it—that’s all.”

  “Uh-uh.” Rachel shook her head slowly, pensive. “It’s more than that.”

  “Now who’s imagining things?”

  Instead of answering directly, she asked a question. “What about you? Do you believe in angels?”

  “In the supernatural, you mean?”

  “If that’s how you want to put it.”

  “Not really,” he said with a shake of his head. “I believe in what I can see and touch.”

  “So you’ve told me. Have you given any thought to what we talked about right after Craig decked you?”

  He unconsciously stroked his jaw. “Ducking faster?”

  “No, silly. Things that are unseen, like faith and…” She hesitated, reluctant to mention love again.

  Sean had no such qualms. “And love? I remember exactly what you said. It made an interesting analogy, but I have to disagree with your conclusions. Too unscientific.”

  “I suppose you still believe the world is flat, too.”

  He laughed. “No. I have it on good authority that the earth is relatively round, as long as you allow for the effect of the moon’s gravity as it passes over.”

  “Gravity?” Rachel folded her arms across her chest and took a firm stance, her eyebrows raised. “How interesting. And just when did you see and touch that?”

  “I don’t have to see it to observe its effects,” he argued.

  “Exactly. The same goes for faith.”

  “Not hardly. Since we aren’t floating off into space, I have all the proof of gravity I need.”

  Rachel smiled. “Has anybody ever told you you’re as stubborn as a mule?”

  “Often. Your point is?”

  “Nothing. I give up. I should have known better than to get into a theological debate with you. It’s not up to me to convince you of anything. Whatever finally happens is between you and the good Lord. I have enough to worry about in my own life.” She glanced toward the porch. “That little girl’s future, for instance.”

  Sean had been feeling strangely uneasy with their former subject and was glad for the change of focus. “What do you think will happen to her?”

  “I don’t know.” Careful to keep their conversation private, Rachel stepped closer to him to continue. “Health and Human Services says she has some shirttail relatives living somewhere up in Colorado. Hannah’s convinced they weren’t very keen to add to their family when they were told about Samantha. If no one else steps forward to lay claim to her, I assume she’ll be put up for adoption. I just don’t know how soon.”

  After a moment of silence broken only by the songs of birds and the cooing of Samantha as she cuddled Schatzy, Sean asked, “How about you? Why don’t you consider adopting her?”

  The idea wasn’t new to Rachel. Neither was her decision. “I’ve thought about that. It’s impossible.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t have a proper home to offer her.”

  He swept his arm in an arc that took in her house and yard. The place was small and quaint, yet more of a home than a lot of children had. “Looks to me like you do. What’s the real problem?”

  “It’s me, okay,” she replied, irritated by his probing. “I’m not mother material, and I certainly don’t intend to rob that poor little thing of the chance to belong to a complete family. Enough of my students have only one parent. There’s no need to add another child who’s forced to grow up that way.”

  “Humph. Funny,” Sean said dryly. “I would have thought any permanent arrangement would be preferable to being passed from foster home to foster home the way Sam has been.”

  “Now you’re doing it, too. Stop calling her Sam. Her name is Samantha. If you and Hannah had your way you’d have her sounding like a boy.”

  “Okay, okay.” Sean held up both hands in surrender. “I stand corrected. Don’t try to change the subject. I can buy the notion that two parents are preferable to only one, but one is certainly better than none. What I don’t get is why you say you wouldn’t make a good mother.” He smiled mischievously. “Except for a stubborn streak and some nutty ideas about destiny, you seem like a perfect candidate for motherhood. What makes you think you’re not?”

  Rachel was not about to bare her innermost secrets to anyone, let alone a man she hardly knew. Telling Craig the whole truth had been necessary because of their plans to marry. It had also been the hardest thing she’d ever had to do. She wasn’t up to repeating that crushing episode, especially s
ince there was no need to reveal her physical shortcomings to Sean—or to anyone else for that matter.

  Maybe someday, when she was older and hopefully wiser, she’d get around to telling her mother about the specialist who had warned her that she would never be able to conceive, never produce a family.

  And maybe not. Lately, Martha had been so outspoken about the whole subject that Rachel had decided to keep her own counsel. That was certainly better than having her eager mother drag her to every fertility doctor from Little Rock to Springfield—or beyond.

  “Look,” she said flatly, “if the Lord wants me to have kids of my own, I’ll have them, okay?” Sure, if

  a miracle happens. “Until then, I wish you’d stop needling me.”

  “Me?” Sean looked abashed. “Hey. I wasn’t trying to bug you. I was just making a suggestion—and a pretty good one, too, if you ask me.”

  “That’s the problem. I didn’t ask you.”

  “Right.” He stiffened, squared his shoulders. “Well, I didn’t come here to bother you, Ms. Woodward. I came to look at those old windows you offered me. I’ll pick one out and be on my way before I stick my foot in my mouth again.”

  His sudden shift to formality took Rachel by surprise. Had she really been that offensive? Apparently. “Look, Sean, I’m sorry if I snapped at you. I guess I have a little hangup where my future is concerned.”

  “A little one?” He chuckled. “Lady, that’s the understatement of the year.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “Okay. I don’t want to argue. Your quirks are none of my concern. But what happens to Samantha Smith is. I just made the mistake of assuming you cared, too.”

  Before Rachel could recover from the shock of his comment and tell him how off base he was, he’d whirled and was headed toward her backyard, presumably in search of the old window he’d come for.

  Pausing before following him, she called to Samantha and Schatzy. “Let’s go, you two. Into the backyard. I don’t want you playing out here all by yourselves.”

  The dog responded immediately, tail wagging and tongue lolling. The child, however, lagged back with a scowl and a plaintive “Awww.”

  “Now,” Rachel ordered. “We’ll be close enough to hear Mrs. Brody’s van when she comes back. You won’t miss your ice cream.”

  That explanation seemed to satisfy. Samantha skipped across the lawn to join Rachel, grasped her hand and tugged for attention.

  When Rachel leaned down to listen, the little girl whispered, “You could show me your wings. I won’t tell. I know I’m not supposed to.”

  Amused, Rachel played along with the fantasy. “Who told you not to tell?”

  “The big angel who came to get me,” Samantha said soberly. “He said not to be scared and not to tell anybody.”

  “A big angel? Like Mr. Bates?”

  “Oh, no. Much bigger.” She stretched out her free arm as far as it would go. “Bigger than this, even. He went way up to the sky.”

  “He did?” Pausing, Rachel bent down to look into the child’s eyes. “What did he look like?”

  “White, sort of. It was hard to see.”

  “Why was that?”

  “’Cause he was so bright. Like the sunshine, only more. And he was strong, too.”

  “Very strong?” Awed, Rachel sensed that something profound was about to be revealed. She only hoped she could remain calm enough to listen without distracting the child.

  Samantha nodded gravely. “Real strong.”

  Trying to keep from showing excess interest, Rachel fought to control her uneven breathing and willed her racing heart to slow down as she asked, “How do you know he was so strong?”

  “You know, silly. ’Cause he picked up the car.” A smile appeared briefly on her innocent face, then faded. “I told him to get Mommy and Daddy out, too, but he said they had to go to heaven.”

  “Oh, honey.” Rachel opened her arms and pulled the child into a tight hug. She’d read a brief history in Samantha’s file. It hadn’t been specific about how the Smiths had died, only that they’d perished together, leaving one daughter. “I didn’t know you were with your mommy and daddy that day. You were all in a car accident? Is that what happened?”

  The small blond head nodded against Rachel’s shoulder.

  “And you think an angel rescued you?”

  “He did. Honest.” She leaned back just enough to look at her teacher’s face. “He was real nice. Like you.”

  Blinking back unshed tears, Rachel gave the child a kiss on her soft cheek. “Thank you, Samantha. That’s the nicest thing anybody has ever said to me.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Rachel and Samantha found Sean rummaging through the odds and ends of building materials, old and new, piled behind her storage shed.

  “Watch out for spiders and snakes,” Rachel warned, taking care to hold tight to the child to keep her out of danger.

  He stepped back and dusted off his hands. “Wasn’t that a popular song back in the early seventies?”

  “How would I know? That was before my time.” She grinned. “I’m not old like you are.”

  “Oh, fine. Stomp all over my ego. See if I care.”

  “I wasn’t kidding about the danger, Sean. There are undoubtedly Black Widows and Brown Recluse spiders in that pile. As for the snakes, they’ll probably run away unless they feel cornered.”

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  “You’re welcome. We’re about to share some ice cream out on the front porch. When you get finished back here, why don’t you join us?”

  “And risk getting my nose broken if Craig cruises by again?”

  “Hannah will be here, too,” Rachel explained with a light laugh. “There should be safety in numbers.”

  “Well, in that case, maybe I will. I am hungry. Haven’t had my—” he pointedly glanced at his watch “—supper, yet.”

  “Good. I see you have learned a few things since you’ve been here. I haven’t eaten either, but right now I’m more concerned with being cool than with good nutrition. Ice cream sounds heavenly. And speaking of Heaven, that reminds me,” she lowered her voice till she was almost whispering, “I need to have a private talk with you.”

  Sean immediately glanced at the little girl by her side, and when he looked back at Rachel, she nodded. “I see,” he said. “Okay. I’ll put one of these windows in my trunk and meet you out front as soon as I can find a hose to rinse off my hands.”

  “Don’t be silly. Go inside and wash in the kitchen or the bathroom,” Rachel said.

  “What about your reputation?”

  “Humph,” she snorted with disgust. “I’m afraid it’s too late to worry about that.”

  “Why? What’s wrong now?”

  “Look over your shoulder.”

  Turning, Sean thought he saw quick movement in a window of the house next door. He blinked, frowned. “Who’s that?”

  “Miss Verleen,” Rachel said. “She’s a veritable fountain of knowledge. Anything you want to know, she can tell you. And more. Of course, half of it’s supposition, but nobody cares about that. All they want is the gossip. Verleen’s a master.”

  “Did you know that when you moved in here?”

  “Oh, sure. I wasn’t worried. I’ve always led a straightforward, honorable life.” Rachel gave him a wry smile and chuckled softly. “Until I met you, I hadn’t given her one single reason to talk about me.”

  “We didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Not wrong. Just interesting.” The expression on his face made her laugh again. “Don’t look so surprised.”

  “I know, I know. You warned me.” He was shaking his head. “It’s just hard to get used to being around anybody who cares that much one way or the other. Back home, I knew some of my neighbors, sure, but I guess my life was too hectic to spare much time wondering about what they were up to in their private lives.”

  “They were probably up to plenty,” Rachel offered. “You just did
n’t know it.”

  “I suppose you’re right. People will be people, wherever you go.” With a wry grin he looked her up and down, clearly admiring her slim, petite self, then said, “Some of them are just a whole lot prettier than others.”

  By the time Hannah arrived with the promised ice cream, Rachel and Samantha were waiting on the porch. Sean came out the front door as the older woman was climbing the steps. She had a plastic sack in one hand and was using the other to pull herself up the stairs.

  “Here,” he said, reaching out, “let me help you with that.”

  “Ain’t heavy,” Hannah countered. She raised an eyebrow at Rachel, then glanced pointedly at the screen door.

  “Sean was inside washing up,” Rachel said. “He got dirty out back, and I didn’t see any reason for him to have to wash his hands in the garden hose.” Chin jutting out, she faced Hannah. “Do you?”

  “’Course not. Well, where do you want me to put this?”

  Samantha shouted, “Here!” holding out an empty blue plastic bowl. That made all the adults laugh. Even Hannah.

  “Over here,” Rachel said. “I moved my plants off this table. And here’s a scoop and more bowls and spoons.” While Hannah emptied her shopping bag, Rachel added, “I think you should dish up Samantha’s first, before she busts a puckering string.”

  “Good idea. You wanna do it?”

  “No. Go ahead. I’ll be right back. I need to speak with Sean for a minute.” The quizzical look on Hannah’s face made her add, “About a certain little mutual friend.”

  To Rachel’s relief, the other woman gave a sage nod. “You go right ahead, then. Sam and me, we’ll start without you. Come get yourselves a dish when you’re ready.”

  Sean was standing apart from the group, waiting. Rachel led him to the far end of the porch and stopped with her back against the railing so she could watch the child as she spoke and make sure they weren’t being overheard.

  “I found out more,” she said softly.

  “Go on.”

  He stepped aside and lounged against the front of the house, forming a right angle with Rachel so he could glance sidelong at the ice-cream party without being too obvious.