A McCabe at Heart

Sam held open the door and together, they went into the family room. There, they found a whelping pen, ten foot square with a linoleum floor and mesh-wire walls. As usual, some of the puppies were sleeping next to their momma. Others were nursing. Two were sniffing around the edges, trying to figure a way out, while another mouthed a soft toy.

Sam set a gate across the entrance to the room, then opened the pen door. Gorgeous nudged her pups away, stood, shook herself off, stretched and came toward Sam. He knelt down to pet her and was soon surrounded by snuggling, jumping, nosing five-week-old puppies.

Robin pointed at the splotch of brightly colored paint on their backs, just behind their necks. “What’s that for?”

Sam smiled. “So I can tell them apart. We’ve got White, Green, Blue, Pink, Red, Orange, Purple, Black, Yellow, and Maroon.”

“I see them all…except Yellow,” Robin said.

Wordlessly, Molly pointed to a leather recliner in the corner of the room.

Sam grinned. The child might not say much but clearly nothing escaped her notice.

He looked at the chair that hid their runaway, then back at Molly. “Shall I get her? Or would you like to do the honors?”

Molly shrugged.

Seeing an opening, however small, Sam told Molly, “Tell you what. How about you get her for me while I make their dinner?”

Giving the child no opportunity to refuse, he retrieved the circular feeding dish with the raised middle and took it to the container that held the puppy food. He scooped some in, added water, and mashed it with a fork until it was as soft and malleable as baby food.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Molly remain where she was.

Eventually, Robin went to the corner. She hunted around behind the chair, and emerged with a puppy in her arms. Yellow shrank from Robin’s touch, much the same way Molly had.

A fact, Sam noted with concern, that did not go unnoticed by Robin.

Chapter Four (#ud9dcae29-82b3-5e09-a518-7aeb31426bd2)

Hours later, Robin opened the door to find Sam on the threshold, a digital picture frame in hand. “Thought you and Molly might like this.” He clicked it on and handed it to her. Photos of Gorgeous and her brood, from day one to the present, flashed across the screen.

Captivated, Robin said, “Amazing how much the puppies have already grown, isn’t it? Looks like they’ve gone from the size of a large hamster to at least five pounds each.”

“Not to mention how much bigger they are all going to get.” Sam stepped into Robin’s cottage-style ranch house. He took in the silence of the cozy abode. “Molly asleep?”

She was aware that the last time they’d met up like this, they’d been a couple. Throat dry, Robin said, “She fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.”

“She must have been exhausted.” He studied her. “You, too.”

Robin’s pulse quickened at his kindness. “Is that why you’re here? To check up on us?” It seemed ludicrous. And yet… there was no denying there was still something between them. Even if it was only the possibility of friendship.

His expression as casual as his tone, Sam followed her into the adjacent living room. “And to bring you and Molly that as an enticement for future visits. Every day, if you like.”

Noticing that Sam had gone from not wanting to host them at all to wishing for their company, and that she felt the same inexplicable yearning to be near him, Robin curled up on one side of the sofa. He took the other end. “Were you surprised Molly didn’t like the puppies?”

“Was afraid to let herself like the puppies,” Sam corrected, his gaze briefly tracking the fall of her dark hair across her shoulders, before returning to her face. “For fear that she might get attached, only to have the pups leave her, too, as they will when they get a little older and go to their new homes.”

Robin leaned toward him, perplexed. As she did so, she inhaled the masculine scent of his cologne and felt a quiver of longing deep inside her. Wondering if he had any idea how intensely he affected her, she asked, “Then why bring the photos?”

Sam sobered. “Because Molly can’t go forward not allowing herself to get close to anyone—or anything. It doesn’t matter whether it’s her previous foster families. Or you. Or even a litter of puppies. She’s got to let down those walls.”

Robin sighed. Figuring, as long as they were baring souls, they might as well discuss the elephant in the room… “I failed big time today, didn’t I?” Her first day as a foster mom, and it had been terrible.

“On the contrary.” Sam reached over and squeezed her hand. “You were great with Molly. Patient. Caring.”

Tingling from the casual touch, she met his dark, sexy eyes. “It’s so hard to connect with her.”

A corner of his mouth quirked as his voice dropped. “You didn’t really think it would be easy, did you?”

Robin flushed. Defiantly, she lifted her head. “It was easy for Claire, when she took my brother and I in after our parents died.”

Sam frowned. “This is a different situation, Robin.”

“Not really,” she replied. “Both Molly and I lost parents suddenly, in car crashes.”

One evening her folks had been there, getting ready to go out to dinner, the next they were gone. Molly’s mother had been hit by a train, on the way to work.

“It’ll get better,” Sam promised.

Her heart aching, Robin brushed aside her earlier decision to keep her emotional distance from Sam. She reached over and clasped his hand, needing the strength he offered. “I can’t fail this little girl, Sam.”

His fingers tightened over hers. He looked deep into her eyes. “And you won’t,” he promised.

Robin wished it were that simple. Unfortunately, she knew it wasn’t.

“What is it you don’t think you have?” Sam asked after a few moments.

Robin tensed, then admitted, “The heart of a McCabe.”

Chapter Five (#ud9dcae29-82b3-5e09-a518-7aeb31426bd2)

Sam stared at Robin in shock. “You’re serious.”

Robin jumped up and began to pace. “I remember what it was like after my parents died, and my brother and I went to live with Claire. I was six at the time, Brad was three. Claire was only fostering us temporarily, until they found my Uncle Zach, but from the first moment we arrived at her place, even in the throes of grief, we felt safe and cared for.”

Wishing he knew how to comfort her, Sam stood, too. “And your point is?”

“Claire is a McCabe, and McCabes know instinctively how to build and honor family. My dad—and former uncle Zach—was a Taylor. Claire had to teach him how to emotionally connect with us. It didn’t come naturally to him.” Briefly, she shut her eyes. “I guess it doesn’t come naturally to me, either.”

Sam took her by the shoulders, determined to talk sense into her. “Bull.”

Robin shrugged him off. “You say that now but you know how badly I failed today. Molly was as aloof with me as she was with those puppies. If it had been Claire there, or any one of the McCabes, it would have been a whole different story.”

Sam folded his arms. He could see she was spoiling for a fight, but he wasn’t sure why. “So you’re saying I’m lacking, too?”

Robin shrugged. “You’re not a McCabe, either.”

Sam frowned. “Navarros know how to connect with kids, too.”