A Mother's Heart (5 page)

“They’re here, Doctor,” the nurse said unnecessarily, as Sam sailed past her, clutching his son’s hand.

Livingston held his fingers to his lips, making sure Sammy still understood he had to be quiet.

“All of her vital signs indicate she’s coming to,” he said.

“How long has she been like this?” Sam asked.

“A nurse noticed the changes sometime after midnight, but nothing drastic until about an hour ago. She’s restless, and I suspect hurting and confused, so don’t expect her to recognize people or talk normally. Okay, Sammy?”

Sammy nodded. His daddy had already warned him his mother might be mixed up because she’d been asleep so long.

“Could Sammy talk to her?” Sam asked. “Maybe if she heard his voice…?”

“Might be a good idea,” Livingston said, then motioned Sammy closer. “Just talk to her as you have been, Sammy. Tell her what day it is. What you’ve been doing. Talk about your daddy’s arrival. Whatever you want.”

Sam held his breath. So much was riding on the next few minutes. He said another silent prayer, then patted Sammy’s back.

“It’s okay, son. Whatever you want to say is okay.”

Sammy put his hand on Libby’s arm and started to pat it, just as he had every day since she’d been admitted.

“Mama, it’s me, Sammy. Today is Friday, but I got to be excused from school this morning so I could come see you wake up. You remember when I told you if you would wake up, that I would have the best Mother’s Day present ever for you? Remember, Mama? Well, your present is here! I know Mother’s Day isn’t until Sunday, but if you wake up, I could give it to you early.”

Sam was shocked. Was he the present Sammy had promised his mother? He looked down at his son’s earnest expression and realized what a special little boy Sammy Farraday really was. He put his hand on Sammy’s shoulder in a gesture of support and added his own brief greeting.

“Libby…sweetheart…it’s me, Sam. I’m here with Sammy. He’s been waiting for a very long time for you to wake up.”

Nothing happened. Sammy looked up at Sam nervously, then at the doctor.

“Why isn’t she talking?” the boy asked.

“It doesn’t work like that,” the doctor said. “She is waking up. You just can’t tell it yet.”

“How about we just sit down in a chair beside her bed,” Sam suggested.

Sammy shrugged. This wasn’t how he’d expected the visit to go, but when his daddy pulled up a chair and then patted his leg, Sammy crawled up in his lap, and then sat, stiff-backed and nervous, unwilling to loosen his grip on Libby’s arm.

“Talk to her, Sammy,” Sam said. “It’s okay. She’ll hear the sound of your voice.”

“Mama. It’s me, Sammy. Wake up, Mama. I need you to wake up.”

L
IBBY GROANED
. Sammy. She could hear his voice. Was he crying? No. But he sounded scared. Sammy? Sammy? Where are you?

She kept digging and climbing. She had to get out.

Mama.

There! She heard it again. He was calling for her.

I’m coming, Sammy. Mama’s coming.

Then suddenly her fingers felt the edge of the pit. She began to climb with every last ounce of strength she had left, pulling herself up with nothing but the muscles in her hands and arms. Then her toe found firm footing again and again until she was halfway out. She could feel the grass against her cheek and the sun on the side of her face. With her last ounce of strength, she crawled the rest of the way out, then rolled over onto her back, breathless from the exertion.

MAMA!!!

It was panic in his voice that made her open her eyes. Then she saw him…her precious little boy. He was here beside her after all.

“Sammy,” she whispered, as she felt his hand on her arm. She tried to lick her lips, but her tongue wouldn’t work right.

“Mama!” Sammy cried, then he turned to Sam, his eyes wide with excitement. “Daddy! Daddy! Look! Mama woke up!”

Libby’s heart skipped a beat. Daddy? She wasn’t awake after all. She was still dreaming. What she was seeing was never going to happen in real life. Her fingers curled, then clenched. Would this nightmare never end?

When Sam saw her make a fist, he couldn’t stand it any longer. He grabbed her hand.

“Libby! It’s me—Sam. I’m here, too.”

The monitors hooked up to measure Libby’s blood pressure and pulse rate began to beep erratically as she began grabbing at the tubes and needles connecting her to the machines.

Sam scooted Sammy off his lap and jumped up from the chair. He grabbed Libby’s hands to keep her from pulling out the needles as the doctor and a nurse came running.

“Libby, you’re okay, you’re okay. You had a wreck. You’re in a hospital but Sammy is safe. He wasn’t with you. He’s here with me. Sammy is okay. Just wake up and see for yourself. Sammy is okay!”

Libby inhaled sharply. Her eyes flew open; there was a brief moment of recognition, then disbelief as she stared up into the face of the man above her.

“Sam?”

He sighed.
Thank God.
“Yes, it’s me.”

“Where…”

He let go of her arm and pulled Sammy out from behind a chair to stand between them.

“Sammy found me.”

“Happy Mother’s Day, Mama,” Sammy said.

Libby blinked. She kept looking at Sammy, then at Sam, and back again. “Wha…” she mumbled.

Sammy beamed as he took Sam’s hand and laid it on Libby’s arm. “Here’s your present, Mama. It’s Daddy. I found Daddy for you.”

Libby blinked once, then closed her eyes, but it didn’t stop the tears from seeping out from under her eyelids.

“She’s crying,” Sammy said, frowning.

“Sometimes people cry because they’re happy,” Doctor Livingston said. “Now I think you two have been here long enough. Tell her goodbye for now. We’ll have her moved into a regular room by this afternoon. You can talk more then.”

Sammy patted Libby’s arm. “Bye-bye, Mama. I’m sure glad you woke up.”

Libby grabbed his hand, then pulled it to her lips. “Love you,” she mumbled.

Sammy grinned. “I love you, too, Mama. See you later.”

Sam leaned down and kissed the side of Libby’s face. The salt of her tears were on his lips as he whispered against her ear. “Rest well. We’ll be back.”

Libby heard the words, but didn’t know what to think. Sam? Sam Holt? Where had he come from? And why? The last words out of his mouth had been something to the effect that he never wanted to see her again. But that had been a lifetime ago. She exhaled on a sob. She couldn’t think about it anymore, only this time when she felt herself drifting, she knew it wouldn’t be back into the pit. She was out of that for good. When she woke up again, maybe this crazy business would have been nothing more than another dream.

Or maybe not. She’d dreamed of Sam many, many times since he’d walked out of her life, but she’d never had one this vivid before. And she’d never felt his kiss this distinctly, or heard his voice as clearly as she had this time. What was it Sammy said about a Mother’s Day gift?

Sammy, Sammy, what on earth have you done?

S
AMMY WAS ELATED
. He talked all the way through breakfast at a local diner, then all the way to school. When they arrived, Sam parked and started to get out.

“You don’t have to go in with me, Daddy. I’m a big boy. I can take myself in,” Sammy said.

“I know that,” Sam said. “But since you’re going to be tardy, won’t the office need me to sign something so you won’t be in trouble?”

“Oh yeah,” Sammy said, then frowned. “Darn. I forgot my book bag at Grandma Kate’s.”

“Maybe she brought it for you,” he said, and gave Kate a quick call, during which she confirmed Sam’s suspicions.

“I sent it with Pete,” she said. “How was Libby?”

“Great,” Sam said. “She woke up, recognized Sammy…and me.”

“I’ll bet that was a jolt,” she muttered.

“She was crying when we left,” Sam said, then noticed Sammy’s expression and added. “But they were happy tears.”

Kate sighed. “I hope you’re as good at smooth talking as you are good-looking, young man.”

Sam was a little taken aback, then grinned. “I’ve had my moments.”

Kate chuckled. “Yes, I’ll just bet you have. Anyway, reassure Sammy that his stuff is already awaiting him inside.”

“Yes, ma’am, and thank you again.”

“You’re welcome. Come for supper tonight. Six o’clock.”

Sam was still smiling as he hung up the phone.

L
IBBY WOKE UP
off and on the rest of the morning. Each time she was awake, she continued to ask whoever was in the room with her at the time if Sam Holt had really come to see her. To her disbelief, the stories she got from different nurses continued to remain the same.

Yes, Sam Holt was in Azalea. Wasn’t she proud of her little boy? Was he really Sammy’s father? What happened that split you two up? Why didn’t Sam know about his son?

The questions were often phrased in gentle terms, but they were basically the same. She opted out of answers by pretending to go back to sleep, but it was becoming evident that she didn’t have any really good answers. Of course she was proud of Sammy. She’d always been proud of her son. She just didn’t get the connection between her pride in Sammy and Sam Holt’s arrival in Azalea.

She kept going over the last time they’d been together before he’d disappeared. Their fight had been horrible. The fact that he thought she’d cheated on him and was lying about it afterward had been shocking. And no matter how many times she’d denied it, he hadn’t believed her. It had nearly destroyed her. Later, when he’d walked out of their apartment, she’d still expected him to return after he’d calmed down. Only he hadn’t. She’d waited almost two weeks before finally coming to the realization that he was never coming back. And so she’d left.

She didn’t know where he’d been, but it was obvious he no longer hated her. What she didn’t understand was
how he found them. And even more, she didn’t know how she felt about him anymore. The man she’d loved had broken her heart. She didn’t want a repeat of that again.

B
Y THE TIME
they transferred Libby from ICU to a private room on a lower floor, she was worn out from all the commotion. But after that, it hadn’t taken long for flowers to start arriving as word of her awakening began to spread through Azalea. On a normal day, she would have been the one taking orders at the flower shop and creating the bouquets, but now she was the one receiving them.

As two o’clock rolled around, Sam Holt walked into her room. When Libby saw his face, her heart skipped a beat. Dear Lord. He
was
real. When she saw what he was carrying, her vision blurred. Lilacs. He remembered. Then she steeled herself for what was obviously coming as he neared her bed.

“Where’s Sammy?” she asked.

“School’s not out yet. Kate said she’d bring him by when she picked them up.”

Kate? So he was already on a first-name basis with her friends.

“Where did you come from?” she asked.

“Amman, Jordan.”

It was the last thing she expected him to say.

Sam put the vase of lilacs on the table nearest her bed, started to take her hand and then stopped. He’d done it before, but she’d been asleep. Now, he felt he needed per
mission and she didn’t appear to be offering it. He couldn’t blame her.

“You are a hard woman to find,” he said softly, then brushed the tip of his finger against her cheek.

Libby’s chin lifted. She didn’t want to care what his answer would be, but she did. It prompted the question. “I didn’t know you were looking.”

“For eight years.”

Libby’s heart skittered. This couldn’t be right. “I waited for you, but you didn’t come back.”

Sam sighed. “I did, but you were already gone. I tried to call you, but when I got a disconnect message, I headed for Tulsa. Panic set in when I found out you’d quit your job and hadn’t left a forwarding address. None of your friends knew where you’d gone.”

“That’s because I didn’t tell them,” she mumbled, while thinking of what might have happened if she hadn’t run.

“Why, sweetheart? I’m the one who’d hurt you, not them.”

Eight years of pent-up anger and disappointment spilled out. Her voice rose as her eyes filled with tears. “Because by then, I knew I was pregnant with Sammy. I didn’t want to look at their faces every day. They knew you were gone. They knew you thought I’d been cheating. Some of them believed you. Some believed me. I didn’t want to have to sort through the crap you’d made of my life by wondering who the baby’s daddy really was.”

Sam felt sick for the hurt in her voice and the tears on her face. “You hate me and I don’t blame you, but you will never hate me more than I’ve hated myself. Losing you destroyed me. I haven’t had one happy day since, and that’s the truth. I work. I eat. I sleep. And more often than not, my dreams are of you.” He exhaled wearily. “Unfor
tunately, the dreams were always of the fight.” He shoved a hand through his hair, then shrugged. “I can’t change the past, but if you would let me back into your lives…in any capacity…I would be forever grateful.”

“Did you come back because you found out about Sammy?”

“Not exactly…Sammy found me.”

“What?”

“It’s true. Do you know how Sammy found me?”

“I didn’t know he’d been looking,” she said.

She was shocked, he could tell, and hurt.

“Not in the way you’re thinking,” Sam said. “It was after the wreck. And it all started with a video he put on the Internet.”

Libby gasped. “What?”

“He put a video on YouTube. Can you believe it? According to Kate, Pete overheard her talking to your pastor, who was inquiring about extended family. Kate said you didn’t have any. At that point, she said Pete heard something to the effect that if you didn’t wake up, Sammy would wind up in foster care. He panicked and spilled the beans to Charlie and Sammy. I’m not sure how Charlie filmed it or uploaded it on the Internet, but it happened.”

“Oh dear Lord,” Libby whispered. Tears spilled and ran down her cheeks as she swiped at them with shaky hands. “My poor little man. He must have been so scared.”

Sam grabbed a handful of tissues from a small box on the table. When she reached for them, he grasped her hand and lifted it to his lips. Just the touch of his lips was enough to make her crazy. Sam blotted her face with the tissues, then handed them to her.

“Yeah, he was scared. In the video he was holding your picture as he related what was happening to you. He
said something to the effect that his mama had always told him the reason he didn’t have a daddy like everyone else was because he got lost from them.” At this point, Sam’s voice was shaking. “And he was right, sweetheart. I’ve been lost…so lost. It was my own damn fault for losing the only woman I ever loved, and I have spent the last eight years in my own personal kind of hell for it.”

Libby’s heart was racing. This couldn’t be happening. She wanted to believe him, but he’d sworn he loved her before and had broken her heart.

“Then how—”

“Sammy’s video was one of the most viewed videos on YouTube and it went national.”

Libby gasped. “As in television?”

“All over the country. My mom saw the video, remembered you and called me in Jordan. You will be happy to know that I got the worst chewing out of my life because of how I screwed up with you. She was bawling her head off when I left and told me not to come back until I’d straightened out my mess.”

Libby’s head was reeling. She wanted to believe in him again, but it was hard.

“Did you come because she made you?”

Sam groaned, then sat down on the side of the bed and gently took her hands.

“No, baby…never. I came because of you. Knowing I have a son is just an added bonus. I still don’t know what made me act the way I did. All I can say is that I was a stupid, immature jerk. I’ll spend the rest of my life on my knees for you if you’ll just give me a chance to make things right.”

Libby inhaled on a sob.

“I have a small confession to make, too.”

“What is it?” Sam asked.

“Right before the wreck, I saw movement from the corner of my eye. I turned just as the truck ran a red light and slammed into the side of my car. The last two things I thought of were regrets. I thought…I’m going to die…and Sam doesn’t know about Sammy. I’m sorry, too. Even though I knew you hated me, I should have told you I was pregnant.”

“Oh, sweetheart…no, no, you have it all wrong. I didn’t hate you. I hated myself. I loved you. I know I’ve got a lot of ground to recover with you. A lot of faith to be built back up, but would you give me a chance to try?”

“For now, just hold me, Sam. We’ll worry about the future tomorrow,” she said, then lifted her arms.

“Libby…baby,” Sam whispered, as he slipped his arms beneath her shoulders and lifted her to a sitting position. When he felt her arms slide around his neck, he laid his cheek against the crown of her head and wept. “I am so sorry, so sorry that I let you down. It won’t ever happen again. I swear.”

Libby couldn’t stop crying. It wasn’t all Sam’s fault. So much had been lost because they’d both made the wrong decisions. But before she could say so, a nurse came running into Libby’s room.

“Mr. Holt! Mr. Holt! You’d better get down to the lobby. It looks like every television station and newspaper in the country found out about your appearance. They have Mrs. Wyatt and the boys trapped down in the lobby and won’t let them get to the elevator. The hospital administrator called the police, but they’re out of town working a wreck and can’t get here in time to help.”

It was as if Sam Holt had gone from zero to eighty within the space of a heartbeat as he shifted into troubleshooter mode. He eased Libby back down onto the
pillows, then cupped the side of her cheek. “Don’t worry,” he said shortly. “I’ll take care of this.”

Libby’s heart was racing. Her son was in trouble and she couldn’t get to him. Then she saw the set of Sam’s jaw and the glint in his eye and told herself he could do this. When he strode past the nurse with his fists doubled and his shoulders back, she relaxed.

“S
AMMY
! S
AMMY
! This way! This way! Talk to the camera, Sammy. Tell us, Sammy, how does it feel to have a daddy? Where has he been? Are you mad at him for abandoning you and your mother? Sammy! Sammy. What did your mother say when she woke up? Is she glad you found your father?”

Sam was furious. He could barely see the top of Kate’s head and could only assume Sammy and the boys were somewhere behind her. He knew why the reporters were here. His little boy’s plea for a father was newsworthy, but by God, they’d crossed a great big line and he was about to put them back behind it where they belonged.

He began pushing people aside as he moved through the crowd, and yelling even louder than they were to “get the hell away” from his son.

It was the word
son
that caught the crowd’s attention. All of a sudden, they realized who he was and all the cameras turned toward him. When he finally got to Kate, he could tell she was rattled. He touched her shoulder once, caught Sammy’s eye and then turned to face the crowd.

They were shouting louder now. Sam raised his hand but maintained his silence until he could be heard.

“Are you Sammy’s father? Why haven’t you—”

“I need all of you to shut the hell up,” Sam said shortly.

There was a moment of shock, then another reporter cried out, “The country has a right to know wh—”

Sam pointed at the man and then took two steps forward. Surprisingly, the crowd moved two steps back as he repeated, “I said…Shut. The. Hell. Up.”

Silence.

“Were you people raised by wolves?” Sam asked. “Look at what you’ve done. You’ve pinned a grandmother and three kids against a wall, shoved a bunch of microphones and cameras in their faces and proceeded to scream at them. What did you hope to achieve? Is a news story that important?”

“But we—”

Sam’s gaze caught the errant reporter who dared to argue. Then Sam looked away, as if the man didn’t exist.

“This is a hospital. There are people in here who are sick and there are people in here who are dying. They are all at some of the worst places they’ll ever be in their lives and you’re down here raising hell and scaring old women and kids…sorry, Kate. No offense for the remark.”

Kate sighed. “None taken,” she said, as she gathered Pete and Sammy in her arms while Charlie stood beside her.

“So, you’re here. Turn on your cameras and recorders…do whatever it is you people do and pay attention, because I’m only going to say this once. My name is Sam Holt. I am Sammy Farraday’s father. I have been in love with his mother, Liberty Farraday, since the day I met her, which was almost nine and a half years ago. A little over eight years ago, we had a fight. It was stupid. It was my fault. I am a man, therefore I am an occasional jackass. I think it’s embedded into our DNA but I can’t prove it.”

There was a ripple of laughter, but he now had their attention. He could hear recorders running while cameras were aimed at his face. This was the last thing he would have chosen to do, but after Sammy’s video, it was in
evitable. And because of what he’d done to Libby and Sammy, they deserved it.

“Libby thought I didn’t love her anymore and she moved. I thought she was still in Tulsa and as soon as I got off the job site, went back to make up with her. It’s sort of like Sammy said in the video…we got lost from each other. And in a horrible twist of fate, if Libby hadn’t nearly been killed, none of this might have happened. There has never been another woman in my life but Libby. To find out that we had a child was a shock, but a phenomenal one. I couldn’t be happier. My only regret is that I’ve missed seven years of Sammy’s life.”

“Eight, Daddy! I’m eight now!” Sammy cried.

Sam sighed and then shrugged. “See what I mean. Libby’s wreck was on Sammy’s eighth birthday, right, son?”

Sammy nodded, and then slipped out of Kate’s arms and took his father’s hand.

Sam gave his son’s fingers a gentle squeeze as he continued. “Sammy and I have a lot of catching up to do, but I am proud to call this little boy my son. As far as I’m concerned, he is a hero. He promised his mother if she woke up, he would get her the best Mother’s Day present ever. I was the present, flawed and at fault as I am, but never lacking in love. He did what he had to do to put his world back together again, and in doing so, he put mine and Libby’s world back together, too. Libby is out of the coma and talking, and tomorrow is Mother’s Day and I am here. Call it a miracle or whatever you want. No, you may not interview her…ever. I know Libby. She has nothing to say to any of you except to maybe give all of you grief for terrorizing her son. And you have had your last interview with Sammy and me. Now I would seri
ously suggest you get the hell out of this hospital and go back to wherever you came from because the hospital administrator has already called the police. Every last one of you can be arrested for, at the least, disturbing the peace. And if Kate wants, I’d venture she could add four counts of assault for you all pinning her, her boys and my son into a corner and not letting them go.”

Then he picked Sammy up in his arms and turned to Kate. “What do you say we all go see Libby now?”

“But Mr. Holt, surely—”

Sam spun. “What’s your name?”

The reporter glared, but he got the message. Then, to punctuate Sam’s warning, they began hearing the sound of approaching sirens.

“Too late,” Sam said. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The crowd parted as Sam, Kate and the boys walked toward the elevators, then began to disperse. But it was, as Sam said, too late. The hospital administrator met the police at the front door and began pointing. Sam looked at Kate and winked.

“Now they’re the ones backed against the wall.”

“They should have left sooner,” Kate muttered.

“That’s why I kept talking,” Sam said. “I figured Chief Fite would show up soon enough. No way was I going to let them get away with scaring my son or bullying you and the boys.”