Free A Mother's Heart by Isabel Sharpe, Sharon Sala, Linda Cardillo

this little boy my son. As far as I’m concerned, he is a hero. He promised his mother if she woke up, he would get her the best Mother’s Day present ever. I was the present, flawed and at fault as I am, but never lacking in love. He did what he had to do to put his world back together again, and in doing so, he put mine and Libby’s world back together, too. Libby is out of the coma and talking, and tomorrow is Mother’s Day and I am here. Call it a miracle or whatever you want. No, you may not interview her…ever. I know Libby. She has nothing to say to any of you except to maybe give all of you grief for terrorizing her son. And you have had your last interview with Sammy and me. Now I would seriously suggest you get the hell out of this hospital and go back to wherever you came from because the hospital administrator has already called the police. Every last one of you can be arrested for, at the least, disturbing the peace. And if Kate wants, I’d venture she could add four counts of assault for you all pinning her, her boys and my son into a corner and not letting them go.”
    Then he picked Sammy up in his arms and turned to Kate. “What do you say we all go see Libby now?”
    “But Mr. Holt, surely—”
    Sam spun. “What’s your name?”
    The reporter glared, but he got the message. Then, to punctuate Sam’s warning, they began hearing the sound of approaching sirens.
    “Too late,” Sam said. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
    The crowd parted as Sam, Kate and the boys walked toward the elevators, then began to disperse. But it was, as Sam said, too late. The hospital administrator met the police at the front door and began pointing. Sam looked at Kate and winked.
    “Now they’re the ones backed against the wall.”
    “They should have left sooner,” Kate muttered.
    “That’s why I kept talking,” Sam said. “I figured Chief Fite would show up soon enough. No way was I going to let them get away with scaring my son or bullying you and the boys.”
    Sammy grinned when Sam said “my son.” When they got to the elevator, Sam put him down. “I know you’re too big to carry,” he said. “I just didn’t want anyone messing with you again, okay?”
    “I didn’t mind,” Sammy said softly. “I never had a daddy carry me before. You’re way taller than Mama. I can see a lot more up this high.”
    Sam’s heart twisted at the poignancy of the remarkthen he laid a hand on Sammy’s head and grinned. “Glad I could be of help.”
    “Is Mama still okay?” Sammy asked, as Sam pushed the button for the second floor.
    “She’s more than all right,” Sam said. “She’s awake and talking a lot. They even moved her to a room all her own. We can’t be loud, but we can talk to her for a bit and then I know she’ll have to take another nap, okay?”
    “Yeah. I have to take naps when I’m sick, too. You get well faster. Did you know that?”
    Sam nodded. “Today, I’m learning all kinds of things, including just how smart you really are.”
    Sammy beamed, then looked at Pete and giggled.
    Kate knew the boys well enough to know that when they giggled in such a conspiratorial fashion, she needed to know why.
    “What’s so funny?” Kate asked.
    “Sammy’s dad said hell a whole bunch of times. Hell is a bad word. We’re not allowed to say bad words,” Pete said.
    Sam rolled his eyes, then looked at Kate. “Sorry.”
    “You’ll learn,” she muttered. “When they’re not eating you out of house and home, they turn into parrots.”
    Sam laughed out loud. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to begin this new job. Being Sammy’s father was going to take practice—a whole lot of practice—but he would prevail. His biggest challenge was going to be Libby. He’d hurt her so bad and in so many ways he didn’t even want to count. He’d broken more than her heart. He’d broken faith and trust and everything it takes to make a relationship work. But he was going to fix that, too, if she’d