A McCabe at Heart. Cathy Gillen Thacker
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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.”
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