Chapter 36
A Stubborn Heart
Sam woke again near midday. The fire had burned to embers, the parlor quiet except for the soft sounds of movement from the kitchen. His head still ached, but more distantly now—like thunder rolling away instead of overhead.
Eli and Isaac lay asleep side by side on the rug. Tessa sat between them, back against the settee, mending something small just to keep her hands busy.
He watched them for a moment.
Family. His, somehow.
He shifted.
The room pitched sharply.
“Sam—stop.”
Tessa was on her feet instantly.
“I need to get up,” he muttered. “Feel stiff.”
“That’s because you nearly bled out yesterday,” she said, setting the mending aside. “Lie back.”
He grimaced. “I’ve rested enough.”
“No,” Abby said, striding in from the doorway. “You’ve rested four hours. That’s the opposite of enough.”
Sam huffed. “I can stand. At least.”
He pushed up on his elbow. His vision blurred. Tessa caught him before he tipped.
“Sam—”
“I’m all right,” he insisted, taking a slow breath. “Just need to stretch my legs.”
Eli stirred. “Sam? What’re you doing?”
“Provin’ your sister’s overly dramatic,” Sam said.
He tried to stand. The floor dropped out from under him. His knees buckled, the room folding in—but Tessa and Abby caught him between them before he hit the ground.
“Sam!” Eli shot upright.
Isaac scrambled halfway to him, then froze.
Sam squeezed his eyes shut against the dizziness. Heat flushed across his face, followed by a cold shiver.
Tessa’s voice was low, but sharp as cut stone. “You foolish man.”
He managed a glare. “I said I could stand.”
“No,” Abby snapped, “you said you thought you could. And you were wrong. Congratulations.”
They eased him back onto the settee. He sank down hard, breathing uneven.
Tessa knelt in front of him. “Look at me.”
He did.
She touched his cheek—not gently, but not harshly either. “You scared them,” she whispered, glancing at Eli and Isaac.
Sam looked past her. Eli’s eyes were wide and bright; Isaac’s hands balled into fists at his sides.
“Sorry, boys,” he said softly.
Eli swallowed. “Don’t do that again.”
“I’ll… do my best.”
Isaac threw himself into a tight, shaking hug, burying his face against Sam’s chest.
“I thought you were dead,” Isaac choked.
Sam winced at the pressure on his ribs but folded one arm around him anyway. “Hey… I’m right here. I’m all right.”
Isaac trembled harder.
Tessa crouched beside them and smoothed Isaac’s hair back gently. “He’s safe. Really safe.”
Isaac grabbed her sleeve with his free hand, needing them both as anchors.
Sam blew out a breath. “You’re right,” he said. “I’ll sit. For now.”
Abby folded her arms. “For today.”
Tessa added, “At least.”
Sam sighed, conceding himself outnumbered.
Finally, Isaac loosened his grip enough for Sam to breathe. “I was scared you died,” he whispered.
Sam managed a crooked half-smile. “Seems I scared you all a lot yesterday.”
Abby cleared her throat, watery-eyed yet brisk. “All right, boys, enough squeezing him. He’s held together by bandages and stubbornness.”
Isaac let go reluctantly. Eli stepped back but hovered close.
Rafe appeared in the doorway then, hat in hand, his expression tightening at the sight of Sam’s pallor.
“Well, that settles that. Sheriff Abrams is on his way. Ben and Cal rode in a while ago. Reed figured you ought to be upright when the sheriff asks his questions, but I’m thinkin’ we should revise that plan. ”
Sam rubbed his forehead. “I can answer from a chair.”
“You can answer from that settee,” Abby said.
Rafe hid a smirk behind his hand. “Sounds about right.”
Tessa sat beside Sam on the edge of the couch, still close enough to catch him if he listed. “Just rest until Sheriff Abrams gets here.”
Sam exhaled. “I hate sitting still.”
“We’ve noticed,” three voices said at once—Tessa, Abby, and Rafe.
Eli climbed up next to Sam carefully. “You can sit still long enough for the sheriff, can’t you?”
Sam tousled his hair. “If you ask me like that, probably.”
Isaac slid into the chair nearest the settee, watching Sam as if making sure he didn’t spontaneously leap up again.
From the doorway, Reed stepped inside. He nodded toward Sam with slow approval. “You look better.”
Sam gave a dry snort. “That’s up for debate.”
“But alive,” Reed added. “That matters.”
Sam met his gaze, something unspoken passing between them—respect, survival, shared understanding.
Reed cleared his throat. “Sheriff’ll want a clear recount. Don’t strain yourself trying to give it.”
Sam raised a brow. “When do I ever strain myself talkin’?”
“Only when you should,” Reed countered, which earned a faint grin from Sam.
Outside, hooves approached—steady, deliberate. Sheriff Abrams’ voice carried through the front yard.
Tessa rose. “I’ll go let him in.”
Sam reached for her wrist lightly. “Don’t go far.”
Her breath caught, just a little. “I wasn’t planning on it.”
She slipped into the hallway.
Eli nudged Sam. “You are gonna sit and behave, right?”
Sam shrugged. “Mostly.”
Isaac crossed his arms. “No. You’re going to sit and behave good.”
Sam blinked, then chuckled softly. “Yes, sir.”
Reed shook his head, amused. “You two talk to him better than any doctor could.”
Abby muttered, “Don’t let him hear that.”
But Sam already had—and the fact that he didn’t deny it said enough.
Tessa’s voice echoed at the front door. “Sheriff Abrams—this way, please.”
Sam straightened with a careful breath, every muscle protesting but his expression smoothing.
Tessa stepped back into the room just ahead of the sheriff, her eyes flicking immediately to Sam as if checking he hadn’t tried to stand again.
He hadn’t.
But only because she’d asked him not to.
And because somewhere in the hollow of last night, his stubborn heart had learned who he trusted enough to lean on.