Santa's Sweetheart (The Christmas Tree Ranch #4)(48)
“No bother at all. We’re going to have girl fun, aren’t we, Maggie?”
“Lots and lots of girl fun.” Maggie danced a little jig step.
“I’m hoping you’ll at least let me pay you back with a nice steak dinner, Grace,” he said.
“As you’re fond of saying, Sam, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
A nurse, rushing into the room, broke the awkward pause. “Turn on the TV. The evening news just started. They’re going to broadcast the interviews about the robbery. You don’t want to miss it.”
“Daddy—are you going to be on TV?” Maggie grabbed the remote off the side table and handed it to Sam.
“Not for long, I hope.” Sam clicked on the TV. “I can’t say I was at my best.”
The news of the crime had broken the night before. But the interviews were new. The TV reporter talked to Walt and to Junie Cardona. Both of them praised Sam for his role in stopping the robbery.
“I wounded the punk with the gun,” Walt said. “But it was the sheriff who took him down and got shot for it.”
“The sheriff made sure we got out all right,” Junie Cardona said. “If it wasn’t for him, my boys and I might not be here.”
The next shot showed Sam in the hospital, gazing sleepily into the camera and muttering something about teamwork. Sam shook his head. “Great. My fifteen seconds of fame, and I was on drugs.”
“You were a hero, Daddy,” Maggie said.
“A smart hero would’ve thought to look for the gunman’s partner. And he wouldn’t have let himself get shot.”
“It’s all right.” Maggie gave him a careful hug. “We’re just glad you’re okay.”
Behind her, Grace was smiling. “We’d best go and let your dad rest now, Maggie. Remember, I promised you we’d get ice cream on the way home.”
“And you don’t need to come all the way back here tomorrow,” Sam said. “I’ll give Grace the phone number. You can use it to call me anytime, okay?” Sam scrawled the phone number and his room number on a notepad by his bed and handed the paper to Grace. “I can’t thank you enough,” he said.
“Anything for a friend.” She tucked the paper into her purse.
Anything for a friend. Grace’s words lingered in Sam’s memory long after she and Maggie had left. The message was clear. Grace might have stepped in to care for his daughter, but he couldn’t expect any more from her. She was still not ready for any kind of commitment. Maybe she never would be.
But after having held her in his arms and having kissed her sweet, willing lips, Sam knew he wasn’t ready to settle for less.
*
After a stop at Maggie’s favorite ice cream parlor for strawberry sundaes with sprinkles, Grace buckled the little girl into the backseat of the Cadillac, turned on the heated seats, and headed for home. A few miles later, when she pulled over to check, Maggie had toppled to one side and was sound asleep with her head on Grace’s folded coat.
The last time she was home, Grace had packed a suitcase with enough clothes and other essentials to last through Monday. She’d included some items like pink nail polish, scented lotion, and bubble bath to make the weekend fun for Maggie. They’d be cooking, and although Sam’s house wasn’t messy, the place could use some cleaning before he got home from the hospital. That, along with a little Saturday shopping, a meal at Buckaroo’s, and Sunday church, if Maggie wanted to go, should be plenty to keep the little girl occupied.
Grace had seven years’ experience teaching first grade. She’d loved all her students in a detached, teacherly way. But she’d never engaged closely with a child outside of class. This weekend with Maggie would be a first.
Maggie was bright, well-behaved, and eager to please. Getting along with her would be no problem. But Grace had another, more pressing worry.
Sam was a wonderful father to his little girl. But Maggie’s heart hungered for the motherly love she’d lost. In the time they’d spent together, Grace could already feel the bond forming between them—and it wasn’t just one-sided. Her attachment to Sam’s daughter was tender and real.
But what if she couldn’t overcome her fear of commitment? What if things weren’t right with Sam and she had to walk away?
How would she live with herself if she were to break Maggie’s vulnerable young heart?
Chapter Twelve
It was after 10:00 when Grace pulled the car into the driveway behind Sam’s off-duty pickup truck. Maggie was still asleep in the backseat, but she roused when Grace tried to unfasten the seat belt and lift her.
“Are we home?” she asked.
“We’re home.” It crossed Grace’s mind to wonder if this place would ever be home to her. The thought was both exciting and frightening. What if she were to attempt to make things work with Sam, only to fail? The hurt, especially to Maggie, would be far worse than if she hadn’t tried at all.
Maybe she shouldn’t try.
“I can get in by myself.” Maggie scampered up the porch steps and lifted the rubber doormat to get the key. Grace took her suitcase out of the trunk. By the time she’d followed Maggie into the house, the little girl had the living room light on. The house was chilly, but Maggie had already turned up the thermostat.