Lover of My Dreams (48 page)

“Everything would be so different if you had just said that you loved me,” she whispered, fighting back the sadness that was choking her.

Sam sat in the living room on one of the couches, his feet up on the mahogany coffee table before him. There was a bottle of beer in his hand and he was staring off absently into space. So many thoughts crowded his mind.

He was furious with his father for announcing that he would be coming back to the hospital, but that type of inconsiderate behavior was typical of him. Allison’s treatment of Rachel was also fueling his temper. She had been her usual, coldhearted self. He wondered how he had ever thought himself to be in love with her. It was obvious that Allison had shown him a personality that had been false in order to get what she wanted. He was glad that he had seen through it before he had ruined his life. He knew the real Allison would have come out soon after their marriage. Luckily, he had realized in time that she would not want the future, the home, or the children that he wanted.

Only his Rachel wanted those things with him. Rachel was the one who gave him unconditional love and acceptance. She was the one who made him laugh, listened to him, and helped him work through his thoughts. She was the one who understood his need to work in the mountains instead of at Denver Memorial Hospital. Rachel was the one he ached to hold and make love with. She was the one he wanted to protect and care for. She was the one he loved.

The realization that Rachel had been threatened into staying away from him for the last ten years also ate at his gut. It was her concern for him and her family that had kept them apart. Who knows how different their lives might have been if he had been aware of the threat. He could have taken care of all of them and his father wouldn’t have had any control over any of them. It was senseless and frustrating to have lost so much time.

He looked down at the phone in his hand. Calling Frank Niemen, his mother’s lawyer, had been a good decision. Their conversation was very thorough, lasting more than an hour. Because of it, some very important legal matters had been settled. He needed to take care of everything to protect the people he cared most about in the world. He would meet with Frank in the morning to sign the necessary papers to cement the protection of his true family.

The second phone call he had made was to Jarod, the man who had really raised him. Jarod was the only man he looked to as a father. Even though his hospital schedule was hectic and consuming, Sam had never forgotten his weekly phone calls to him and had visited him as often as he could. Jarod had always been supportive and caring, and Sam looked to him often for advice and encouragement over the last ten years, just as he had in his youth.

Joanna McCoy had made sure that Jarod was comfortably taken care of after her death. Sam was glad that Jarod had retired and had moved into his own modest home shortly after his mother’s funeral. He was thankful that his friend no longer had to serve his father. Over the last ten years, Sam had spent all of his off time with Jarod in his new home whenever he was able to come back to Denver. Between Jarod, Roy and Kay Monroe, and Rachel whenever she was around, Sam felt that he was a part of a loving family. He was determined to keep all of them safe—especially now that he knew the true reason Rachel had kept herself away from him.

He talked to Jarod for nearly half an hour, telling him of the threat his father had made to Rachel all those years ago. It was the first time Sam had ever heard Jarod lose his temper.

“Don’t you worry, Master Samuel,” Jarod had told him sincerely, his anger finally under control. “Everything will work out for the best. You are, and always have been, far better than the McCoy Empire. Your mother would have been very proud of you.”

Sam choked up at his words and knew that he had been given the great gift of an adoptive family. They had always been there for him. By the end of their conversation the two of them had come up with a plan to take care of their family. Jarod had agreed to go to the Monroe Ranch and stay with Kay until Sam was able to get there. He trusted that his old friend would make sure that Kay remained safe.

Sam rubbed his eyes tiredly and leaned forward to hang up the phone and place the barely touched bottle of beer on the coffee table. Drinking it was not helping him. After all that had happened tonight, the only thing that concerned him was the fact that Rachel had pulled away from him. He had hurt her somehow, and he was wracking his brain to try to figure out what he had done.

He couldn’t think of a thing. Everything was going so well between them. Even the confrontation with his father and Allison had not brought about the change. It was when they were standing in the parking lot of
Chez Pierre
that she had pulled away from him. After he had told her that he wanted her to be the mother of his children. He didn’t understand it. They had discussed having children just minutes before and there didn’t seem to be a problem then. She had told him she wanted kids to be a part of her future just as much as he did. What had he done to change that?

He stood and slowly walked into the bedroom and saw that she was already in bed. Quickly entering the bathroom, he removed his clothes and cleaned up, sadness weighing upon his chest as he thought about the woman asleep in his bed.

When he returned to the bedroom, Rachel had turned onto her back. Her left hand was resting on her stomach and she was sound asleep. Very gently, he pulled back the covers on the opposite side of the bed and climbed in beside her.

His heart pounded and a tingle ran through his body at the sight of her under the blankets. She was wearing the same white nightgown that he had seen his pregnant wife wearing in his dream.

He settled against her carefully, covering her belly with his hand and resting his mouth against her temple. He kissed her softly, closing his eyes and sighing. Lying beside Rachel and holding her within his arms calmed him.

“Baby, please don’t give up on me,” he whispered. “I don’t know how I hurt you, but I’m sorry that I have.”

Sam knew she couldn’t hear him, but he had to say the words. He would be sure to repeat them when she was awake.

“I hope you can forgive me, Rachel,” he continued. “I want us to be together. I want you as my wife. I want my baby growing inside of you.” He kissed her temple once again then nuzzled against her ear as he caressed her belly lightly. “Maybe we’ve already made our baby, honey. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Rachel’s silence made his heart hurt. He held her tighter, glad when she snuggled against him and leaned her head against his shoulder. He said a silent prayer that he could somehow heal whatever hurt he had caused her.

All he knew was, he wasn’t going to stop hurting until she was able to forgive him and love him again.

The ride back to the campground seemed to take so much longer without the happy banter that had accompanied them on the trip into Denver. Sam looked down and saw that Rachel was still wearing the ring that he had placed on her finger the night before. That, at least, gave him hope that things could be worked out.

When he woke up she was once again cuddled against him, content to be in his arms. He savored the moment, kissing the top of her head carefully so as not to wake her. He reluctantly removed himself from the natural embrace she held him in, showering and dressing quickly so he could head out to meet with his mother’s lawyer. It was a necessary meeting to protect all their futures. With one last look at her peacefully sleeping form, he closed the bedroom door behind him and left the apartment with one purpose in mind—saving his family.

When he had returned nearly two hours later, Rachel was awake, dressed, and seated at the breakfast table. She had made him black coffee and frozen waffles since not much else was in the apartment in the way of provisions. They had spoken little and had packed quickly to begin their journey back to the campground.

“Have you changed your mind about marrying me?” he asked her seriously, looking at her briefly before returning his eyes to the road ahead of him.

“I’m not sure,” she told him honestly.

“I hope you won’t, Rachel,” he said sincerely. “I know we could have a really terrific life together.”

“Do you think so?” she asked him quietly, turning to face him. Her chest constricted at the emotions she felt when she looked at him.

“I really do,” he said honestly.

“I think we could, too,” she agreed, smiling sadly at the unspoken words that screamed within her heart.

He reached out and tenderly took her hand in his. Bringing it to his lips, he kissed her fingers gently then kissed the ring that she wore.

“Once I put this ring on you during the wedding ceremony on Saturday, you’ll be mine forever. I don’t ever want you to take it off,” he told her seriously, his eyes mirroring the tenderness that he was feeling. “Promise me.” His voice was stern, demanding her agreement.

Rachel smiled and reached out to cover his hand with hers. “I promise,” she told him softly, unable to be as certain as she knew he wanted her to be.

“Good,” he said, lowering her hand to the seat but never letting go.

* * * *

Stan and Gwen greeted them warmly when they arrived at the campground. Rachel couldn’t help but smile at the two of them as she stepped out of the truck and walked toward them.

“How was your trip?” Gwen asked brightly.

“It was good,” Rachel told her, doing her best to be positive as she faced the older woman.

Gwen looked at her warily, sensing the sadness in her. She reached out to draw Rachel into her arms and tenderly hugged her. She felt as if Rachel was one of her own daughters needing comfort.

“You can tell me all about it later if you want to, honey,” she whispered to her so that neither Sam nor Stan could hear her.

Rachel nodded and pulled away from her reluctantly. She smiled bravely and walked toward the camper, leaving Sam to stand with the Fletchers.

“We never should have gone,” Sam told them, watching Rachel walk away from them to make her way down the incline toward the rushing stream below.

“What happened?” Stan asked him worriedly, taking the suitcase from Sam and walking with him to the camper.

Gwen lifted the shopping bags out of the back seat of the truck and followed the men, keeping an eye on Rachel as she walked along the streambed. Something was certainly troubling the girl.

Sam unlocked the camper door then took the suitcase and bags of groceries from the elderly couple and placed them inside the doorway of the camper. He turned and faced them, seeing the worried looks on their faces. He was touched by their concern. They were kind people who were already true friends to both him and Rachel.

“My ex-fiancée was at the dinner for my father,” he told them, looking off into the distance as he spoke. “She must have said something to Rachel that I don’t know about because Rachel has been distant since she saw her. To top it off, my father told Rachel that he refused to accept her as my wife.”

“Oh dear,” Gwen whispered. “How awful!”

“Now you listen here, Sam,” Stan told him angrily, poking his index finger into Sam’s chest and demanding Sam’s complete attention. “What anyone else says doesn’t matter. You two decide what you want to do and then, by jingle, you’d better stick to your decisions. No one has the right to tell you how to live your lives or who you should be married to. You tell them all to go to hell, and you stick with that pretty little miss you’ve already picked out for yourself.”

Sam was touched by the emotion Stan displayed and reached up to grab the finger that was jabbing painfully into his chest. “I hear you, Stan. You don’t have to beat me up,” he teased, smiling for the first time since last night.

“Well, maybe I should,” Stan told him, standing up taller and straighter as he stepped away from Sam to stand beside his wife of forty years. “You young people need a good swift kick in the behind to get you moving in the right direction.”

Gwen looked at her husband with adoration on her face. She reached out and took his hand in hers to squeeze it tightly.

“Feisty old coot, isn’t he?” she told Sam, winking at him. “He’s right, you know.”

“I know,” Sam agreed, smiling at the two of them.

Gwen walked along the stream, searching for the young woman she knew was hurting. When she saw Rachel sitting on the side of the rushing water, she stopped and breathed a sigh of relief. She had been worried about her. Seeing her sitting there so sad and alone made her heart ache for her.

“Mind if I join you?” she called out to her when she was close enough to be seen and heard.

Rachel looked up, startled, and smiled sadly at the elderly woman. “Not at all,” she told her quietly.

Gwen walked to her slowly and gently eased herself down onto the grass next to her. “Sam seems to think you’re pretty upset,” Gwen told her, hoping she would open up to her.

Rachel drew her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on top of them. She turned her head and looked at Gwen, smiling sadly at the sweet woman.

“Honey, you go on and have yourself a good, heartbreaking cry if you need to,” Gwen told her, reaching forward to pat her hand reassuringly.