backfire as she walked out the door.
* * *
Sam rubbed his forehead as the door clicked behind Celeste. For a soft-spoken person, she sure knew how to say things that barbed right to his soul. He wasn’t angry. Wasn’t even upset. For months he’d carried a Dumpster full of excuses on why he should give up. Why physical therapy wasn’t for him.
And for what? He kicked the table leg with his good foot. This was no way to live.
If he didn’t return to work after Christmas, there would be no work to return to. His brothers had told him they couldn’t continue to help run his dealership. They each had two of their own, and they’d given up most of their free time to keep his profitable.
He would be forced to sell the dealership. They would name a new person to step in as CEO. Succeeding in this business took a hands-on approach and a special personality—one Sam used to have.
Maybe that was the real problem. He’d lost his courage. Lost his identity. Maybe it was time to try physical therapy again. His bones ached thinking about it. Getting around in the wheelchair wasn’t ideal, but it kept him from the relentless aching and stiffness PT brought on.
Besides, his weak knee could very well cause him to fall, putting him at risk of tearing open the healing sciatic nerve. He’d fought hard to regain feeling in his foot and lower leg. Portions of it were still numb. He might not be moving forward, but at least he wasn’t in danger of a permanent setback—paralysis.
The door opened with a creak. Sam sat up straighter, not believing what he was seeing.
Celeste held a dark-haired child in her arms. The baby rubbed his eyes and let his head fall back against her shoulder. He wore little navy pants and a lime-green shirt. A diaper stuck out from the top of the elastic, and his feet were strapped into tiny running shoes.
Sam’s heartbeat paused at the picture they presented.
She had a baby.
Longing for a child of his own slammed in his gut. He closed his eyes briefly, willing the futile emotion away.
No wonder she needed a new start. It all made sense now.
Celeste padded forward. “Is it okay if I sit on the couch?”
“Of course.” He followed her to the leather couch and chairs. A sweet smile graced her face as she stroked the sleeping child’s hair from his forehead.
“This is my nephew, Parker. His mom was killed in the accident.”
Sam’s mouth dropped open. Wasn’t expecting those words. A nephew. The accident. Had Celeste’s sister been killed?
“Brandy and I were best friends ever since we sat next to each other in first grade. My big brother, Josh, started dating her after we graduated from high school. They got married four years ago—Josh was deployed off and on throughout their marriage—and then they found out about this little bundle of joy.”
“I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.” His mind reeled. Here he’d been having a pity party about his leg, not realizing Celeste had lost her best friend. Her sister-in-law.
“I am, too. It breaks my heart every day knowing Brandy and Josh are missing Parker’s life.”
“Josh? Was he in the car as well?”
She shook her head. “No. He was killed overseas a few weeks after finding out Brandy was pregnant. Roadside bomb in Afghanistan. After he died, Brandy got really depressed. She was obsessed with making up a will. Of course I agreed to be Parker’s guardian, although I thought she was a little too intense about it. But here I am. Raising Parker. Permanently.”
He could barely take it in. “So your brother never got to see his baby?”
Celeste kissed Parker’s head. He slept soundly on her lap, his cheek still resting on her shoulder. “No, and it breaks my heart. I wish he could have. He would have loved his baby. I miss him.”
“Don’t you have family who could raise him?” He couldn’t imagine taking on such a big responsibility so soon after an accident.
“I want to raise him. I promised Brandy. My brother and I were close, and I consider it an honor. Besides, my parents both work full-time. They’re getting older, and they don’t have the energy I have.”
Sam hesitated. “Why is it so important for you to live in Claire’s cabin? Why here?”
Her pretty brown eyes dimmed. “I need to create a life of my own.” She wrapped her arms tightly around Parker. “I guess I need some time away from it all. Losing my brother and my best friend. Getting used to this face. It’s hard when people see the new me but mourn the old me with their eyes.”
He understood what she was saying. It was why he hadn’t left the cottage in a long time. People expected to see the Sam with a quick joke who could stand tall and play volleyball at a picnic. Seeing him in a wheelchair made them uncomfortable. Or maybe it made him uncomfortable. Maybe both.
“Yes, that’s a good way to put it,” Sam said. “I guess neither of us got what we wanted out of life.”
“I guess not.” She tugged Parker’s shirt down over his back. “But I’m going to be the best parent Parker could have in this situation. I’m going to make sure he knows everything about his mommy and daddy. Brandy would have done the same for me. And Josh—well, I’d do anything for him.”
Sam thought of his four siblings. He’d do anything for them, too.
He’d been selfish. It was time to start thinking about someone other than himself. He had an opportunity to help Celeste. And the baby in her arms.
“Okay, I’ll go to physical therapy.”
“Really?” Celeste blinked, then beamed.
Man, she was pretty. “Yeah.”
“Good. I hope you don’t mind Parker riding with us. I’m kind of all he has.”
“I like kids.” The desire for one of his own hit him again. “How old is he, anyway?”
“Just turned a year. He’s almost walking. Claire told me there are plenty of babysitters she can recommend if you don’t want him underfoot when I’m cleaning or helping you.”
“Save your money. He’s welcome anytime. It will be easier for all of us. Why don’t you give me your phone number, get settled next door and come back in a few days. We’ll work out a schedule then.”
Celeste stood, jostling Parker, and rattled off her cell phone number. He typed it into his phone. She carried the baby to the door. “Sam?”
“What?” He followed her, waiting as she stood in the open doorway.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
A blush rose up to her cheeks. “For understanding.”
Once she left, he stared at the closed door
