Chapter 4

Rachel walked into the police station at exactly seven o'clock. She'd changed her sandals for heeled brown leather boots and thrown on a fitted leather jacket. She was looking forward to dinner with Officer Swarek, an opportunity that she would have gladly had two years ago. She wanted to sit down and talk to him without pain or drugs clouding her mind. The little that she remembered of their conversations two years ago had been enjoyable. She was curious to see if his personality was really as she remembered it, or if she'd built him up in her mind. When this situation with Sally and the gun presented itself, Rachel decided to throw caution to the wind and ask him and his partner out for dinner. The worst that they could do was say no, for which she would not be offended. She understood that they needed to be careful about what they said and did so as not to look like they were unprofessional or were being bribed. With Officer McNally along, there wouldn't be any worry on Officer Swarek's part that she was asking him out on a date. Of course, that was no longer relevant, Rachel thought with grin, thinking back to the obvious conniving on his friends' part to get him out with her alone.

She didn't have to wait more than a minute before Officer Swarek walked around the counter dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt and carrying a jacket in his hands. Rachel was a bit surprised as she looked at him. Without his uniform and equipment on, he was actually a lot leaner than she'd originally thought.

"So, where are we going?" he asked, placing a hand on her lower back to usher her out the door.

"I don't know the area very well," Rachel said, "but Sally told me about a pub called O'Malley's a couple of blocks from here that apparently has really good food. Or we can head more downtown to the high end restaurants."

"O'Malley's is great," Swarek said. "I've been there a couple of times and they have a killer steak."

"O'Malley's it is," Rachel said, as they walked across the parking lot.

"Rachel," Swarek said, stopping and taking a deep breath. "I want to apologize for Shaw and McNally earlier..."

"What? You mean there isn't a report thing that has to be filed tonight?" she teased with a grin. "Don't worry, Officer Swarek, I have no ulterior motives for asking you to dinner other than to thank you. I would really just like to sit and talk with you, so please don't worry about it, okay?"

Swarek returned her grin and said, "Sam."

"Pardon?"

"Call me Sam."

"Alright Sam," she said, pleased. "Let's go, because I'm starving. Your vehicle or mine?"

"Mine," Sam answered, and then added with a wink, "I've seen what happens when you drive."

"Hey! That's not fair," Rachel laughed. "It wasn't my driving that caused a semi to land on me!"

The pub turned out to be a wonderful Irish pub with lots of wood and brass. They chose a table in the far corner where it was quiet. Rachel looked around and thought the place was perfect for having a relaxing conversation, and if the smells coming from the kitchen were any indication, the food was going to be good too.

"So, tell me about all the heroic things you've done in the last two years," Rachel said, leaning forward on her elbow and putting her chin on her hand.

"That'll be a short conversation," Sam said, looking at her amused.

"Fine," Rachel answered with a mock sigh. "Then you pick the first topic."

"Actually, I have to know something. I saw an old 4-Runner parked in the visitors parking area at the station when we left." He grinned when she nodded her head. "Seriously? You bought another old 4-Runner?"

"Yes, I love them. Always have. You can't argue that owning that vehicle saved my life."

"True."

"When I reach back for my seatbelt now, I give the rollbar a pat of thanks." Sam chuckled, but nodded in understanding. Rachel continued, "I've owned three late 80's 4-Runners. I usually make some upgrades, like air conditioning, abs brakes, air bags, etc. I even considered putting airbags in the roof this time, but decided that was probably a bit of overkill."

The waitress came up at that moment and took their order. They both ordered the special which was steak with roasted potatoes and spanish green beans. The waitress wrote down their order, gave Sam a casual wink and walked away.

Rachel chuckled, "Maybe she'll give you her number when we leave."

Sam glanced over his shoulder at the retreating blonde haired waitress before shrugging indifferently. "Not my type."

"What is your type?" Rachel asked, and then quickly blushed and held up her hand. "Sorry, you don't have to answer that."

Sam leaned back in his chair with a lazy smile. "Since you are bringing up the whole love life conversation again, can I assume that you still have not found Mr. Right?"

Rachel's blush deepened as she said, "Ah, no, not yet." She gave a wry smile and asked, "No woman and eight kids?" She expected him to try to change the subject, but he just shook his head and gave her a smile that made her stop. Was he... ? No, she was definitely reading him wrong, but it seemed as though he was flirting with her. But then, she didn't really know him, maybe he was a bit of a flirt outside of the work environment. She decided to play on the side of safety and change the subject herself.

"I don't remember too much about our conversation under the trailer," she said, "but I do remember one thing quite clearly."

"What's that?" Sam asked leaning forward.

"For two years now, I've watched every Canucks and Leafs game quite carefully," she said, smirking. "How exactly can you explain the fact that the Canucks have won every game except one?"

Sam groaned and closed his eyes. "Pure luck," he said, shrugging.

They had a good natured argument about hockey and whose team was truly the better one until their meals arrived. Rachel watched as Sam avoided each of the not too subtle flirting attempts by the waitress. If nothing else, he was a true gentleman.

"So, how are the rich kids?" Sam asked as soon as they were alone again.

Rachel laughed. "Oh, about the same as always. They come, get on the horse, ride around, get off the horse and leave. What a waste of money. Although, since the money is coming my way, I'm not really complaining too much." She shook her head. "To be fair, there is one girl that I absolutely love to teach. She loves horses and is a natural rider. She soaks up anything I can teach her like a sponge. Her mom is great too. They've become quite good friends of mine." She took a bite of her steak and moaned. "This is amazing!"

"Told you," Sam said. "Are you still doing the therapy riding?"

"Of course," she replied, "it's my passion. We are up to twelve kids every Saturday morning, which is our limit. Do you know anything about therapy riding?"

"No, I'm afraid not."

"It's excellent physical therapy for the physically handicapped kids. The motion of the horse gently stretches and strengthens their muscles, and the kids quickly develop a better sense of balance. But it's the mental and emotional development that is really the most amazing part. Sometimes it's hard to encourage a child with disabilities to really try their hardest in a therapy room, but put them on a horse and all of a sudden they are trying really hard to tell the horse what they want it to do. And you should see their faces when they understand that the horse loves them unconditionally. A horse doesn't care whether a person is imperfect in any way. In fact, I am certain that all my therapy horses know that the kids are needing love and protection. It's a herd instinct to protect an injured or crippled member. I can see them doing the same thing with these kids."

"Really?" Sam said, sounding surprised. "I wouldn't think the horses would have that kind of connection to a human."

"Yeah, they do," Rachel answered. "It's actually quite astounding and a beautiful thing to see. Not every horse is cut out to be a therapy horse. They have different personalities just like people, but a great therapy horse is worth it's weight in gold."

"Huh, I'd have never guessed. Tell me about your farm."

"It's 70 acres," she answered, taking another bite of her steak and enjoying it before she continued. "The main business is breeding Friesian horses. We have two stallions standing at stud and about twenty six brood mares. I've hired a manager to deal with most of that so that I can focus on the schooling and therapy horses." She shrugged. "If you're interested, you could come out and take a look for yourself." Rachel looked down at her food and very carefully cut two of her spanish beans, wondering how he was going to take her invitation. She glanced up and found him looking at her with that amazing smile of his.

"Sounds good, but I have to warn you, I'm a city boy. I know absolutely nothing about farms or animals."

"I love challenges," she answered, grinning back at him. "Don't worry, I'll teach you everything you need to know and more. You are in good hands."

"I have no doubt about that," he answered, winking at her.

Rachel started to feel warm all over and turned back to her meal. Things were not going the way she was expecting. She had not expected him to be so ….. flirty? Charming? She wasn't sure exactly what he was, but it was giving her warm tingles.

They settled into a comfortable silence for a few minutes, concentrating on their food. When they were finished, they talked about every day things. About an hour later, Rachel leaned back and said, "I know that you probably can't talk too much about what you do as a Police Officer, but can you tell me what a typical shift is like?"

"No two days are ever the same," Sam said with a wry smile. "Normally, McNally and I get our orders and head out in our cruiser. Some days are slow and our biggest excitement is figuring out where we are going to stop to eat. Other days we are rushing around trying to solve the world's problems in one ten hour shift. Those days either make you happy you're a cop, or make you wonder about your sanity." He paused, an unreadable emotion crossing his face and Rachel thought he looked tired. The look passed quickly and he carried on, "I've done some undercover work, but in general though, we are settling domestic disputes, going to car accidents, working B&E's, that sort of thing."

"What's the hardest thing to deal with?" Rachel asked, leaning forward, trying to read the emotions crossing his face.

"Anything to do with kids," he answered. "They are so innocent and they get dragged through hell. It just makes me angry." He shook his head.

"I can't even imagine what that would be like," Rachel murmured, sympathetically.

He smiled and shrugged. "Just part of the job."

Rachel snorted. "A pretty crappy part."

"It can't all be saving beautiful women trapped in vehicles flattened by semi trailers," he answered with a smile, an obvious attempt at lightening the conversation.

Rachel laughed. "As I recall, you froze your butt off. That wasn't all that pleasant."

He gave a dismissive hand gesture. "What's a little cold to someone as awesome as me?"

Rachel looked at him and then rolled her eyes. "Really? Did I seriously just hear you say that you were awesome?"

He innocently nodded. "What? You don't agree?"

Rachel groaned and laughed. "Hey, buddy, you weren't the one actually pinned in the truck. I think of the two of us, I was the awesome one. I totally didn't freak out... well, not too much."

"Huh," Sam teased, "I recall you freaking out a lot and only my awesome presence calming you down. Face it, sweetheart, I'm more awesome than you."

Rachel tilted her head to the side and smiled. She couldn't remember enjoying herself more. This funny teasing side of Sam was something she'd only caught a glimpse of two years ago. Dinner with Sam was everything she'd hoped it would be and so much more. "Sam," she said, smiling, "you know what? I take it back. You are pretty awesome. Arrogant, cocky, but awesome."

Sam laughed and gave a small bow. "I always said you were a smart lady." He looked at his watch and asked, "How long does it take you to get home?"

"An hour," she answered, looking at her watch as well. She was surprised to see that it was already ten o'clock.

"We should probably get going then," Sam said. "I don't want you driving that long late at night."

Rachel paused, wondering if she should be insulted, irritated or both. It had been a long time since anyone had tried to tell her when or where she should do what. To her surprise, she didn't feel any of those things. Another warm tingle went through her as she realized that she liked the fact that he was concerned for her safety and was watching out for her. Still, she couldn't help getting another snide remark in. "But, Officer, my parents know where I am. I'm not late for curfew."

Sam chuckled. "Like I've never heard that one before."

Rachel settled the bill and they walked out of the pub and across the parking lot towards his truck.

"So, how is Friday?" Sam asked, out of the blue. "I don't have to work."

Rachel was completely thrown off by what he was saying. Was he asking her on a date? Had she missed something? She thought back over the last few minutes, trying to understand what he was talking about. "Friday?"

Sam chuckled, obviously enjoying her confusion. "Are you taking back your invitation for me to visit your farm?"

"Oh," Rachel said, relief flooding through her. "Of course! Sorry, I blanked there for a second." She quickly thought about her day on Friday and then nodded. "Friday would be perfect. If you wanted to show up around 10 o'clock, all the chores will be done and I could show you around. Then we could have lunch. I don't have anything planned until 3 o'clock when I have to give two lessons. You would be welcome to stay and watch if you liked."

"I'll be there at 10 o'clock," Sam said, opening the door of the truck for her.

Rachel climbed in and buckled up. She took a deep breath and folded her hands in her lap. Normally, she projected a very calm, confident persona to the world, but right now she felt more like a school girl with a crush. She willed her happily beating heart to slow as Sam started the truck. He looked at her with a dimpled smile and she gave up trying to slow it down as it raced on. She shook her head and chuckled, turning to look out the window as they drove along.

Suddenly, Friday was looking really good.