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wrapped his arms around his mother and pulled her up into his tender embrace. He hugged her tightly to him, rocking back and forth as the tears came. He did not, could not, stop the heart-wrenching sobs that escaped him as he held her.
    He didn’t know how long he cried. The twilight had turned to night when he became aware again. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turned to find Jarod standing beside him.
    “She’s gone, Jarod,” he told him in a voice that was barely above a whisper.
    “I know,” Jarod answered. His own eyes were filled with tears as he stood beside the bed. He looked down at the woman before him and a part of him died with her passing. There was no beauty in this house any longer.
    Very slowly, Sam lowered his mother’s body back against the stark white satin bedding, smoothing her graying hair back from her forehead and gently wiping the tears from her delicate face, not sure if they were hers or his.
    He reached out to hold Jarod’s hand, relieved to feel the gentle pressure of the elder man’s hand as he squeezed it to let Sam know that he shared in his pain and supported him in his loss. He was thankful for the man who had given both him and his mother such gentle friendship and love over the years.
    They remained at Joanna’s bedside for a very long time—each dealing with their own grief and remembering the gentle and kind woman who had shown both of them nothing but acceptance and love.
     
    * * * *
     
    The funeral was just as Joanna McCoy had predicted. Ostentatious. A tasteless social opportunity for the rich and famous. Edwin McCoy reveled in the attention. Rachel watched from a discreet distance, standing beside her cousin and her aunt. Her heart broke for Sam as he stood stoically beside the grave site.
    The marble white coffin was covered by a blanket of white roses. It was difficult for Sam to see anything but the antiseptic sterility of the whiteness, causing his heart to pain him at the thought of the lack of comfort and love his mother had lived with. The one splash of color that invaded the bleakness was the single arrangement of pink carnations that he had placed at the head of the coffin.
    Rachel struggled to hold herself together as she saw the raw pain on Sam’s face despite his efforts to hide it. The white sling holding his arm to prevent further injury to his shoulder was a stark contrast to the formal black suit that he wore. He looked like he wanted to bolt. She couldn’t blame him. It felt as if the time at the grave site was endless. She knew it was a test of control and stamina for Sam. Rachel wanted to take him in her arms and hold him tightly within the blanket of her love.
    When everyone left the burial site, Rachel, Roy, and Roy’s mother Kay Monroe were the last to leave. The three of them ached to surround Sam with their caring, but they knew that Sam’s father would not appreciate what he would consider to be their interference in his plans for the day. Instead, they followed quietly, joining the procession of cars back to the McCoy estate.
    Inside the McCoy home there were at least one hundred people waiting to have their two minutes with Edwin McCoy. Rachel was disgusted by the lack of compassion that the people around her showed. She stayed in the sitting room, tucked away from the rest of the crowd, sitting quietly in the middle of an elegant settee that was placed at the right corner of the room. Roy sat on one side of her and her Aunt Kay sat on the other. Jarod stood silently behind them, often stepping closer to the group when he saw any member of the socially elite group gathered there looking at the trio with contempt. It was only when they spotted Sam walking toward them that the three of them felt like they should be there. They stood to face him, their hearts aching at the blank expression on his face.
    Sam hugged each one of them and thanked them for coming. It was as if he was on autopilot. Rachel knew it was the only way he could