CHAPTER 12
News that Sam was awake traveled fast in their small town. Phones were ringing off the hook from those wanting to welcome a town favorite back to health. They managed to keep things mellow, holding off visitors with the exception of Morgan Jameson and Blake Cooper. Cooper and Jameson were close friends, like family, but they were also McKenzie Ridge’s finest cops. Anxious to see for themselves that their dear friend was well, business before pleasure was today’s calling.
Without a single witness, Sam’s case had remained open, unable to be closed as an accident or otherwise. Sam didn’t remember anything from that night, nor the hours leading up to it. Her memory ended at her date with Dawson, irony at its best, because unforgettable is most certainly how she would describe that night, not that she would be sharing those details in an official statement of any kind.
Small talk was quickly exchanged as they got straight to business, explaining the circumstances of the accident that didn’t add up, leaving its cause a complete mystery. They offered pictures from the scene, the surrounding area, hoping to provoke even the slightest memory. They went through her typical routine and route, trying to get a better picture of what could have or might have transpired, but not a single hint was granted, not a single clue, not a single memory.
“I don’t know what to say. It’s like it didn’t happen. These pictures, they just don’t seem real to me. How can that happen, and…nothing?”
“You had a traumatic head injury, Sam. We didn’t expect to get a play by play, just hoped to provoke a memory or something that would give us a little direction,” Morgan mentioned, trying to put her frustration at ease.
“I wish I could help. I thought I wanted to remember, but after seeing the pictures I don’t know that I ever want to remember. I know that doesn’t help you with your case, but…” Sam answered honestly; seeing the wreckage, the blood, it was overwhelming, and she couldn’t believe she was sitting there, alive.
“Understood. Wish we didn’t even have to have this convo, but something doesn’t add up, and we can’t close it as an accident just yet,” Blake added.
That gnawing feeling settled deep in Dawson’s gut again when Blake said something doesn’t add up.
The sensation was becoming a concern as his instincts grew stronger. Something was
wrong, but what? He was becoming more and more anxious, unsettled really. Though there was no reason to suspect a problem, something was nagging at him to stay close and pay attention. He wasn’t sure, but he suspected that Blake and Morgan were in sync with his wariness—what didn’t add up?
“Blake’s right, Sam. We couldn’t piece the scene together and come up the same outcome. There wasn’t an injured or deceased animal, no debris left on the vehicle from an animal encounter. We didn’t find any trace of another vehicle, and the only markings on the pavement were about a mile before the impact. They match your car, but don’t make sense since impact was a mile later,” Morgan offered, trying to give her friend understanding without frightening her. But the reality was, this was suspicious.
“Even if an animal obstructed the path and managed to make it unscathed, the angle of impact and lack of tire marks in the road, closer to the scene, not to mention force of impact, doesn’t make sense,” Blake echoed a little less reassuring than his partner; he was all facts and down to business.
“You suspect foul play?” Dawson asked, sitting a little taller, puffing out his chest, feeling protective. Based on the conversation, he was right; there was more going on, and his instincts weren’t leading him astray.
“No, Daws,” Morgan interjected, suspecting where Dawson was going with his question. “When we can’t piece a clean scene back together, we ask more questions; that’s all.”
Sam’s frustration was evident. To see the pictures of such a dramatic scene, but not remember a bit of it, was haunting, to say the least. Their visit wound down. Dawson walked them to the elevator while Sam’s nurse went through her vitals and got her ready to practice walking on crutches with two bum arms. They exchanged pleasantries before parting, leaving a lot unsaid. Could it be his past haunting him, the fear of losing someone he cared about again, nothing more? The hair on the back of Dawson’s neck remained at attention. He didn’t feel any better now than he had before. Something wasn’t right.
The weekend arrived and was nearly gone when Sam finally won the approval of her doctor to be released from the hospital. Being a nurse helped her case to be sprung from the place, but it took Evie and Dawson’s commitments, as medical professionals, to help oversee her care at home for them to get the official word.
Sam was anxious to get home. Only awake just shy of a week, the weeks previous were clearly wearing on her, even if she wasn’t awake for them. She needed out of there. Recovering in a hospital is about as effective as holding AA meetings in a bar. When the doctor orders rest, yet your woken up every few hours for this and that, it’s pretty counterproductive; she had an entirely new appreciation for grumpy patients. Being that
nurse made her feel kind of like an anti-healing asshole. She would remember that when she was able to return to work.
“Alright, sister, I think this is everything. You excited to get out of here?” Evie asked full of excitement for her sister-friend.
“You have no idea. I just wish I didn’t need so much friggin’ help. I feel like a damn invalid! I can’t even pee by myself!”
“It’s temporary! Plus, it can’t be that bad, having Dawson as your caretaker
. Bet he is ready to take care
of just about anything, if you know what I mean.”
Evie delivered her line with a devious giggle, impressed with her own joke after giving a dirty grin, wink, and bobbing eyebrows. Not expecting such jestful wit and wonky facial expressions, she could always count on Evie for her whimsy. Sam let out a very unbecoming snort with her laugh, lifting her mood and sending her mind in the direction Everly suggested, the gutter.
“Funny! It is weird, isn’t it? He is so good to us, me and
El. It’s still hard to let him help but hard not to, you know?”
“Honey, he’s one of the good ones. I say you just kick back and let him wait on you. Pretty sure you don’t have much of a choice anyway. He may not leave for the next several decades.”
“You think? You think he’s thinking that far ahead and not just sympathetic? He pulled me out of the car and kept me alive until we got here. Maybe he feels obligated.”
“Girl, if that’s what you think, Doc needs to scan that head of yours again! He’s all in, totally head over heels stupid, for you…and Ellie!”
Sam heard every word Everly said, and they went straight to her heart. There was just something about Dawson. He really was one of the good guys. He felt…right. Seeing him with her daughter made her heart do cartwheels, too. Ellie didn’t know her dad and hadn’t really had a male role model in her life until now. Those two really did adore each other, which warmed her heart and complicated things all at the same time.
“They are pretty great together, aren’t they? It’s like they have been together always, two peas in a pod. I hope I can protect her heart if…”
“Sam,” Everly interrupted, “the only heart breaking, from where I’m standing, can be done by you. Stop worrying, and don’t make him carry the burden of your past. Have fun; see where things go.”
Could she do that? Was it that simple; just let it all go and see where everything lands? Sam wanted to trust what Everly was saying, badly, but there was still that small amount of something that said, not yet
. Dawson was different; there was no denying that. And to be as rooted in their lives as he had become, there had to be some feelings and emotions involved.
Sam wanted Everly to be right, wanted Dawson to be all in because she certainly could be, as frightening as that thought was. But there was no guarantee that he was or would be even five years from now, and that was the last hurdle her heart would have to overcome. Jesus, Sam! Not everyone is like your dad, and you are certainly not your mother.
Dawson and Ellie arrived, hand in hand, to spring Sam from the hospital while Lou prepared Sam’s house for her arrival. She was leaving in much better shape than she had arrived, but she was leaving on crutches with a surplus of paraphernalia that would be awkward to maneuver without adjustments around the house. Sam was anxious to get home, get into her own comfy bed, or rest her arse on her fluffy couch and leave this place behind—the hospital was anything but comfortable.
So used to taking care of herself, it was going to be difficult to give up her independence while she finished healing. Dawson had spent the last several nights with her in the hospital. They ate comfort foods, her favorite desserts, even watched movies together snuggled up on her small hospital bed. She liked Dawson, adored him really, and appreciated all that he had done for her and her family, but she was having trouble giving in to the idea that she needed help…from a man and hated relying on him so much. She felt like a first-class bitch.
Dawson was aware of Sam’s edge; she was frustrated and he could see it. He was painfully aware of her boundaries where men were concerned, but he was determined to prove his interest and show her that he could be trusted and that she could count on him. Sam consumed him. He wouldn’t accept a back-seat role in her life; he wanted front and center. He would win the rest of her heart and make sure she never regretted sharing it.