The edge of the dressing over his surgical incision was visible at the neckline of his hospital gown. His right arm was in a cast. The IV hooked up to his left arm was dripping clear fluids into him, not blood like yesterday. An oxygen cannula was pulled down around his neck. His color was normal and he looked almost rested.
“Hey, baby,” Sam interrupted her contemplation of the scene. He opened his eyes, turned toward her and put out his hand. “You gonna just stand there or you gonna come over here? I’d come to you but I’m kinda tied up here.”
Stumbling over a chair in her haste to get to his bedside, she dropped the bag as she struggled to regain her balance. When she reached him, she took the hand he held out, blinking back the tears she could feel about to fall. She leaned over, kissed him on the cheek, hoping he wouldn’t see how shiny her eyes must be. “How did you know I was here?”
He awkwardly pulled her to him with his casted arm and kissed her on the mouth, held her and kissed her a second time before answering. “It’s the way you smell. Like cupcakes, or maybe flowers. Or a flowery cupcake. I don’t know. Whatever it is, I could pick you out of a crowd blindfolded.” He patted a space on the bed beside him.
She climbed up, not letting go of him when she settled there. “You look so much better. I wasn’t sure what to expect.”
Using his hand with the IV in it, he clumsily pushed a curl back behind her ear. The familiar gesture made it impossible to contain her tears.
“Please don’t cry. I’m fine, now that you’re here,” he said.
“I’ll try.” She forced the corners of her mouth up. Clasping his hand to her chest, she asked, “How’re you feeling?”
“The truth? Beat up.”
“Maybe because you were.”
“Yeah, I guess. But I’m doing okay. I’m tougher than a stupid bad guy with a gun.” He grinned and kissed her hand. When she pulled it back to her chest, he frowned. “Hey, your heart’s beating fast. Maybe you’d like to join me here with a few of these machines attached to you. Not exactly the honeymoon suite but … ”
She didn’t laugh.
“This isn’t like that night at the gallery this summer when you were excited to see me. Now you look more scared than happy. How come?”
“I guess I am. More than a little scared, actually.” She dropped her eyes for a moment and her voice became softer. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me.” A lump materialized in her throat. She gulped it down so she could talk. “This is my fault. All of it. I’m the reason you got shot and ended up here. I’m so, so sorry, Sam. I messed up so bad.”
“You messed up? How’s this your fault?” he asked.
“I thought if I gave him the money he wanted, he’d leave you alone. If I’d done better at it or if I’d trusted you and Danny with what I knew … ”
“What? You gave who what?”
“I let Matthews think I knew about the safe, about Tommy’s money. I didn’t think there was a safe but I had money so I … ”
“What the hell did you do something like that for? Christ, Amanda, he could have hurt you. He could have killed you.” The warm affectionate expression she’d been greeted with was now the set-in-stone angry look she’d seen too often recently.