Chapter 31

Sam stared at the television screen, taking in the information that the blonde-haired reported was stating against a backdrop of the Sauderbrandt mansion. LIVE: The bold red letters in the bottom left hand of the screen, directly above the station's call letters, seemed at odds with the what the woman was conveying.

Neilson Sauderbrandt was dead.

He'd spoken with the man that very day. Quite possibly he was one of the last persons to have spoken with him. Though he'd known that the old man didn't have long to live, he hadn't truly expected his passing to be that very day. Along with the shock that he had experienced when Mark called with the news, he found a return of the earlier sadness that had settled over him when he'd left the mansion. He hoped desperately that the young girl he'd met in the driveway wasn't a representation of what the rest of the family was like, that at least some had found it within themselves to go to the old man in his final hours.

"You going to be okay?" Robyn's voice floated to him as she settled on the sofa beside him, one of her thighs brushing against his as she sat close. Her hand slipped into his and squeezed.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he assured her, squeezing back. "He was a very unique individual," he continued, struggling to explain. "Not the sort of person you meet very often."

"Eccentric?" Robyn ventured. "You'd be surprised how many eccentric people you run across in my line of work."

"Mine, too, actually," Sam confessed. He turned slightly in her direction, wanting to make her understand what he was trying to say. He felt that he owed the old man something. "But none that call me to say goodbye before they die. I think he knew that it was going to happen today."

"That isn't all that unusual, you know," Robyn said, gently. "I think it's probably a blessing to those around him. It gave him the opportunity to give them closure."

"Yeah," Sam murmured thoughtfully, remembering again the coldness of the girl in the driveway. Perhaps she was only being protective. He could hope. "But why me? A stranger?"

"Like you said, he was unique, eccentric. Besides, he gave you that key. Maybe that was

why."

            "Mmm. And maybe someday I'll figure out what it belongs to." Sam thought of the key which he'd placed in a drawer upstairs. Jeff had taken an imprint of it earlier. Thinking of the key took his mind to the conversation that had followed. Of the girl in France who had helped him find gifts of great value. "He gave me something else, too," he murmured.

"What's that?" Robyn asked.

"Courage." 

Robyn half chuckled, confusion marring her brow as she looked up at him. "Courage? Why courage?" 

Sam looked at her a long moment. He wasn't sure how to tell her about the way his feelings toward her had grown since the day he had met her. How he had known that she was a threat to the carefully ordered life he'd arranged for himself and Beth. Why he had been afraid to open his heart to trust another women. He felt comfortable, even eager, to release such emotions onto a piece of paper or piece of  art, but putting those same emotions into words was infinitely more difficult. It was much more easy to show her.

Turning more completely toward her, he lifted a hand and gently brushed a lock of hair back. His hand lingered in a caress near her cheek as he leaned in, watching her rapt expression as he brushed his lips against hers in a soft kiss.

"Courage for that," he whispered, remaining close so that only inches separated them. "I didn't want to squander the chance at a gift."

Robyn didn't answer him with words, but pulled him down to her, uniting with him again in a kiss that let him know exactly what she thought of his statement. The kiss burned through him, causing him to feel it even to the tips of his fingers. It made him feel strong, empowered.

When they separated, Sam was the first to speak. "We should get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a very long day." He would be back to work, and he knew it was going to be very difficult to concentrate on what needed to be done there.

Robyn agreed, and they walked up the stairs hand in hand. They halted outside of the door of the guestroom. "I want to do this right," he whispered as he stroked her hair. "Take it slow. Besides . . . ." His gaze strayed in the direction of Beth's bedroom door.

"Such a thoughtful dad." Robyn smiled her understanding, her lips remaining curved provocatively. It wasn't helping him to keep himself together.

"Yes, the sacrifices we make for our children," he murmured then briefly gave in to temptation and kissed her again. Robyn followed his lead, and when he moved to part, she acquiesced, though even in the darkness he could see that she was as affected by his nearness as he was hers. 

"Good night," he said reluctantly.

"Good night, Sam."

Though his body fairly hummed with the desire to draw her into his arms again, he kissed her hands and after a lingering look, left her at the door.

Robyn rose early as was her habit. The household was quiet and still, as it wasn't yet time for either Beth or Sam to rise. It would give her time to think about the drastic changes that had occurred in his life over a relatively short period of time. She already knew that she loved Beth. And there was something about Sam that simply spoke to her on a very deep level. Still, if he hadn't suggested taking things more slowly last night, she would have. The fact that he'd said it first, only endeared him to her even more, made her that much more attracted to him.

She was dressed and starting on her first cup of coffee when Sam appeared in the kitchen forty-five minutes later. "Good morning," she greeted him, taking in his slightly damp hair and breathing his clean, freshly showered scent. He was already dressed for the office.

"Morning'," he replied, advancing to follow the words with a quick kiss before reaching into the cabinet for a mug. She watched as he poured it full of coffee. "How'd you sleep?" He moved toward the refrigerator.

"Pretty well," she responded, leaning against the counter, drinking in thick dark hair at the back of his head. Her gaze trailed downward over the broad shoulders, clearly outlined in the polo shirt he was wearing. She was reminded of the way he had looked the day she'd first seen him, of accidentally stumbling in on him while he was dressed only in a towel. He was just as much a work of art as the one that he had been working on that fateful she'd stepped into his workroom thinking that he was someone else.

"How about yourself?" she asked, drawing herself out of her observation of him.

Sam, she realized, was still looking at the closed refrigerator door. He glanced distracted in her direction. "Oh, terrific actually. Much better than I'd expected, considering."

"You were tired," she excused him.

"Tired wasn't the only thing I was," he grinned over his shoulder before turning back toward the refrigerator door and removing the magnet that contained a picture of his ex-wife. When he looked up his expression had changed.

"I should probably do something with all of this stuff," he gestured around the house. "I've hardly changed a thing since she left. I'm beginning to realize how much I was living in the past."

Robyn didn't have to ask who she was. She remembered thinking much the same herself when she'd gotten her first good look at the place. Then she had come to know more about the way that Sam and Cassandra's relationship had developed.  

"She was a very big part of your life for a long time. She was your friend long before she was your wife. And she will always be the mother of your child."

Sam chuckled humorously. "She said close to the same thing last night. She insists that she wants to get to know her daughter. She's threatening to drag me through court to do it."

"Do you think she'll go through with it?" Robyn asked.

Sam shrugged, allowing the picture magnet to fall to his side. "I don't know. She sounded pretty serious over the phone. And upset, too." He sipped at the coffee. "I think I offended her when I asked if she knew anything about the RR break in. Which I'm certain she didn't, now."

Robyn nodded, willing to accept his opinion, though she knew that her father would still have the woman checked out thoroughly. "That brings us down one suspect then."

Sam shook his head. "You know, all I ever really wanted to do is what is best for my little girl. Everything I've done is for that reason. Everything. I can't let Sandra waltz back in here and just turn her life upside down. It's my responsibility to protect her from that."

Robyn had no doubts as to the genuineness of his desire, she had seen the evidence of it. But there were some things that daddies just couldn't protect their daughters from, no matter how hard they tried. "I can't tell you what to do," she began, gently, carefully choosing her words. "And I don’t know what the rules are. But you need to consider that the courts may rule that Sandra should have visitation, even if it's only supervised. You may not have a choice in the matter."

Sam looked at her incredulously, as if she had grown another head. But before the conversation could continue, a voice sounded from the stairs behind them.

"Daddy?"

Sam turned, and Robyn looked up and saw Beth creep the rest of the way down the stairs. A chill swept through her at the expression on the child's face. It was the same grown up worried look that she'd seen earlier, that first day when Sam had loaded her into the truck at the school. It troubled her to think what a custody battle would do to the already very sensitive girl.

Sam got up from his chair and met her at the bottom of the stairs, going down on one knee, bringing himself nearer her level. "What is it, honey?" he asked.

Robyn remained in her spot at the counter in the kitchen. She looked through the dining room to where Beth was quietly observing her father. Feeling like a voyeur, she turned away and made herself busy at the sink. But Beth's voice carried to her anyway.

"Are the courts going to take me away from you like they took Joey away from his dad?"

"No, jellybean, that isn't going to happen," she heard Sam try to assure her. "Your mom just wants to spend some time with you, but I don't think that is such a good idea. So, she may go talk to the courts to try to get me to change my mind."

"Did she learn to say no to drugs?"

"Sometimes when a person says yes, it's hard to say no again."

Beth was silent for several moments, then, "Why does she want to spend time with me?"

"Well, she wants to get to know you better."

"Why don't you think that's a good idea?" Beth asked, and Robyn turned around, unable to stop herself. She strained to hear Sam's response.

"Do you want to see her?" he asked, his tone carefully neutral. He clearly didn't want to influence her response either way.

"Yes, I do. And I promise this time I won't be scared, daddy."

"You won't have to be because I'm going to be right there with you, sweet heart." He sounded a little breathless. Robyn imagined that he was trying to control his emotions as she was her own. No daughter should ever have to be afraid of her mother.

"Can Robyn come, too?" Beth asked.

Two pairs of stormy blue eyes turned on her, one pleading with a child's innocence, the other pained and uncertain. She was helpless to resist either of them. "As long as you want me, where you go, I go."