knelt beside her. “My name’s Sam Beaudry. I’m Hilda’s son. Your mother’s a friend of mine.” Okay, not the most appealing introduction, but it was a start.
“Hilda Beaudry is my grandmother.”
Sam nodded. Now, how should he put this?
“Who’s your daddy?”
“I don’t have a daddy. I have Mom, and she has me.” She turned from him, resuming her close watch. “She’ll wake up pretty soon. Sometimes she sleeps for a long time, but she always wakes up.”
He rubbed the twinge out of his left knee. “Has she been in the hospital like this before?”
“She said this is what would happen if I called nine-one-one. In school they told us to call nine-one-one if somebody was hurt or sick, but Mom said they might take her away if I did that.” She eyed Sam suspiciously. “I didn’t call anybody, but you came anyway.”
“It’s okay. Your mother made the call herself. She knew she needed a doctor, and now the doctor’s trying to help her.” He glanced up at the bed. From this angle Merilee appeared to be even smaller, more childlike than her child. “I think she knows you’re here.”
“But she’s asleep.”
“Not exactly. She’s resting, trying to get her strength back, but it’s not the same as sleeping. One time when I was hurt, I was like this in a hospital, and I could kinda hear people around me.”
“And you woke up?”
“Not right away. I’m just sayin’ she might know we’re here. So if there’s something you want to tell her, she can probably hear you.” His knee cracked as he rose for a better view of the patient’s face. “Right, Merilee? It’s Sam, in case you don’t recognize the voice. I’m here with Star. We’re hoping you’ll open your eyes pretty soon, but we’ll understand if you don’t. We know you need your rest.”
“Mommy?” Star leaned forward. “I don’t know what to do, Mommy. I found the store, and I found my grandmother. Hilda Beaudry—I found her. Now what should I do?”
Sam shared with the child in the mother’s silence. Life’s breath came and went, came and went. How much effort Merilee put into the act was a mystery to Sam. She was hooked up to mechanical help, but maybe she was trying. He moved an armless chair from the corner of the room, set it at a right angle to Star’s, straddled the seat and rested his forearms on the back, taking care not to block her view of her mother.
“You came a long way on the bus,” he surmised. “How many days did it take?”
“Two, I think.”
“Did your mom say how long she was planning to stay?”
“She said I might go to school here.”
“Did she tell you anything about me?” he asked warily, and she glanced at him, equally cautious. “Her friend? Hilda’s son, Sam?”
“I don’t think so.”
How far should he take this? “Do you have any relatives besides Hilda? Another grandma, maybe, or an auntie?”
“My other grandmother died. I never saw her.” She eyed him briefly. “Are you like a cop or something?”
“I’m a sheriff. It’s kind of like a cop, but I have to look after a whole county, and I have to get elected. I was a cop when I was in the marines. MP, they call it. Military police.” Too far. Wrong direction. He could tell by her scowl.
“We don’t really like cops.”
“Oh.” That hurt. “Who’s we?”
“Well…” She glanced at her mother. Reminded she was on her own, she shrugged. “I mean, we like them when they help us. But I wouldn’t call them up or anything. They can take anybody away. They might take bad people away, but they could take good people away, too. They might even take me away.”
Damn. Where had that come from?
“Only if they thought somebody might be hurting you,” he suggested.
“Even if they take a bad person away, he can come back,” she confided, leaning closer to him in a way that made him feel better, like maybe he’d gained a little trust. “And when he comes back, he’s twice as bad.”
“Does the bad person have a name?”
“Maybe.” She drew back. “Maybe not. It could be any bad person.”
“I know how to handle bad people.”
“Do you have a gun?” she whispered.
“I do. I killed a snake with it the other day.” He gave a one-sided smile. “I have a jail, too. And handcuffs. A fast car with a big gold star painted on it. Bad people don’t mess with me. Pretty soon we’ll be gettin’ the word out among the snakes.”
“So, if I needed a cop, you’d be around? Because they’re never around when you need one.”
“You know Jim Whiteside?”
“Jimmy?”
Sam nodded. “Ask him. I’m always around. And Jim’s always keeping an eye on me. I’m beginning to think he’s on the county payroll, making sure I do my job. You ever need me, Jim knows right where to find me.”
She wrinkled her little round nose. “He thinks he’s a big smarty.”
“He’s a good kid, once you get to know him. It’s good to have friends. You probably have a lot of friends in California.” He tipped his head, inviting more confidence, hoping for names. “Maybe your mom has some friends there.”
“We just moved again. We didn’t know anybody in our new building.” She stared at her mother, hoping. “Is she gonna wake up tomorrow?”
Sam knew if he couldn’t say yes he was no help. He said nothing. He felt small and useless.
“Can’t the doctor make her wake up?” Her voice was tiny and thin.
Ask me for something else, kid. An ice cream cone, a ride anywhere you want to go, a puppy, a Band-Aid. Anything but answers.
A tear plopped on her thumb.
He told himself to stay behind the back of the chair, use it as a shield, keep his distance. But before he knew it, he was standing, lifting the child into his arms and letting her hot tears drench the side of his neck.
No way could he ever cry. But he felt as though Star was doing it for him.
Chapter Four
It didn’t matter to Maggie whether Sam had once loved Merilee Brown. It didn’t matter to her whether he was the girl’s father—unless he’d skipped out on them, which seemed unlikely, knowing Sam. But watching the three of them through the ICU glass gave rise
