Page 4 of Lush Curves

Jax had told Sam that Sarah had practically raised her brother, and that Annie had struggled hard to pay the bills on a diner waitress’ salary. Noah was often at the hospital too, and Sam’s natural protective instincts had risen as he’d watched Jax with Noah. The older man was rough and tough andexactlythe kind of guy that made Sam good and nervous normally, since he’d have laid significant amounts of money that Jax Hamill was into some pretty shady shit… but he was amazing with Noah. Truly gentle and kind, and he was endlessly good to Annie too. That warmed Sam, made him look at Jax with new eyes, and made him very grateful that Annie had the man in her corner.

God knows, she needed it.

Sarah wasn’t waking up. She also wasn’t showing any signs of waking up anytime soon. Maybe never.

Sam reached the room, paused outside. Sure enough, Annie was there with Jax and Noah. Jax was sleeping for once, and that didn’t surprise Sam even a little bit – Mac had told him that Jax was beside himself with anger and worry, and hadn’t slept more than an hour since Sarah had been attacked.

Noah was absorbed in a book of some kind, and he looked like he was a million miles away. Annie, though… Annie was nowherebutwhere she was. She wasinthat small, white, private room that Jax was paying for out of his own pocket, in it body and heart and soul. She was sitting and staring at her daughter, just sitting and staring and holding Sarah’s limp hand, and Sam knew that if Sarah could be reached by the force of a fiercely loving stare, then the young woman would open her eyesright now.

Sam entered the room slowly, not wanting to startle the woman from her reverie. “Annie?”

Despite his care, she still jumped a bit, swung her whole body around in the chair. “Oh! Oh… Doctor Innis.”

“Sam.”

“Sam,” she repeated wanly, and rubbed her eyes a bit. “Hello.”

“Doctor Sam!” Noah chirped, and they both looked at him. “Will Sarah wake up today, Doctor Sam?”

Annie gazed up at Sam, almost child-like in her desperate hope. When she saw Sam’s face, she drooped: shoulders, body, eyes, face. She just sagged in defeat for a few seconds before pulling herself back to a sitting position, and Sam admired her regal position, right there on that horrible plastic chair. She was like a queen on her throne: strong and composed.

And so, so damnbeautifulin that calm strength.

“Not today, Noah,” Sam said quietly, then he gestured at the book. “What’s that?”

“Puzzles,” Noah said, already turning back to the page in front of him. “Maybe tomorrow?”

“I don’t think so,” Sam said. “Maybe Sarah will wake up in a few days. OK?”

“OK,” Noah mumbled, then his tousled head dropped back over the puzzle book. “Maybe in a few days.”

Annie smiled at Sam now, and his heart jumped in his broad chest. It wasn’t that brilliant, shining smile that she’d given Mac, but it was warm and it was welcoming, and it was more than good enough. He was happy to take anything positive that she gave him, and so he’d take this small smile.

It’s more than good enough – for now.

“Want to step outside for a minute?” he asked her. “Just for a change of scene?”

“Oh,” she began. “Oh, I don’t think that I should –”

“We’ll stay right here, Annie. Right next to the door. Alright?”

She glanced at the open door, at the bustling hallway just past it, at the huge window facing her now. It occurred to her that she hadn’t actually taken the time to look out of that window, not once in three days. Now seemed like as good a time as any, she supposed, and she’d be able to look over her shoulder and get an unimpeded view of Sarah, Noah, and Jax.

She nodded, got to her feet slowly, wincing a bit. “Alright.”

He narrowed his brown eyes behind his glasses. “What hurts?”

“What?” She gazed up at him. “Uh… nothing.”

“You showed pain on your face,” he said. “Just now, when you stood up. What’s hurting, Annie?”

“Oh.” She looked bemused. “You doctors, huh? Miss nothing much, do you?”

Not when it comes to you, he wanted to say, but he contented himself with simply repeating: “So what hurts?”

“My lower back,” she admitted at long last. “I’ve handled more than twenty years of standing on my feet for at least ten hours a day and carrying heavy trays of food and booze, but sit me in this chair for three days, and I’m almost bent over double.”

Sam glared at the offending chair, resolved to find her something better. “I’ll speak to someone.”

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