Page 109 of Wishing Hearts

Turning, I take in the doctor standing in front of Winnie’s door and nod. “That’s me,” I say, giving Sam’s arm a squeeze before I let go.

“Why don’t y’all come on in, and we’ll talk about gettin’ Winifred patched up and sent home?” the doctor says.

“We’ll be right there,” I reply. “Thank you.”

The man gives me a nod and heads into the room, and I turn to Sam, taking his hand in my own.

“Sam, I’m yours, right? That’s what you told me.”

He nods, and my eyes trace over his face. So beautiful, this man. Beautiful and breakable. He loves so hard. And yeah, maybe that makes him fragile, like me. But there’s strength in that, too.

“I love you, Sam,” I tell him. “And that makes you mine just as much as I’m yours. You belong to us now. To me and Winnie. And I will never, ever be upset about you protecting your family.”

Sam’s breath pops out of him in little bursts, and then his hands are in my hair and his lips are on mine. The kiss is sharp and bright and full of promises, and I’ve never felt anything like it.

This. This is the strength of Sam’s love.

Winnie and I are lucky to have him.

When we break apart, Sam’s eyes are still wet, but the tension is gone from around them. I grab his hand, linking us together. “Come on, love. Let’s get Winnie home.”

“Comfortable?” I ask, tucking Winnie’s bedding around her.

She nods, eyelids heavy already. I’m not at all surprised; it’s nearly midnight. Luckily, the doctor confirmed Winnie only sustained a minor sprain, so ice and rest are in her future. I have no doubt she’ll be back to running around in no time.

I give Winnie’s forehead a kiss and reach for her book, but she tugs it protectively against her chest, eyes shooting to Sam, who’s sitting on her other side.

“Um,” she says, sounding uncharacteristically shy. “Could you read my book tonight, Sammy?”

Sam’s eyes shoot to me, his chest rising with his deep breath. It’s the first time Winnie has called him Sammy, and it’s obvious I’m not the only one who caught it. I give him a smile, and Sam nods to Winnie.

“Of course,” he says. “It’d be my honor.”

“Pumpkin,” I interject softly. “Would you like me to stay, or would it be okay if I bring Grandpa home? Either way is fine.”

My dad won’t mind waiting, but Winnie has been clinging to Sam ever since we left the hospital, and I know, as both my parents and Sam have pointed out, that I need to give Winnie and me more chances to be apart in small doses. I think it’s something we’re both learning: how to let others care for us.

Winnie thinks it over for only a couple seconds. “You can go,” she says with a firm nod. My chest aches, but it’s the good kind.

I give her another kiss before sliding off the bed. As soon as I’m out the door, I hear Winnie speaking, and I pause for just a second to listen.

“Sammy, we’re best friends now, right?”

I can imagine Sam’s responding smile. “The bestest,” he answers.

“Well, I was thinking,” my daughter says, “if you wanna call me Winnie, you can. I’d be okay with that.”

There’s a brief pause, and my eyes well. I look at the ceiling, blinking, as Sam replies, “Thank you, Winnie. That means a lot.”

“You can read now,” she says—more like demands—and I hold in my snort. Shaking my head, I pad down the stairs as Sam starts to read Winnie’s book.

Fuck. This day has been something else.

“Ready to go?” I ask my dad.

He gives me a nod from the living room and rises, and we head out to my truck. My dad is quiet almost the entire ride back to my parents’ home, but when I pull onto the street they live on, he finally speaks.

“He’s special, isn’t he?”

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