Adam jumped and darted out of the room.
* * *
Deep in sleep with his arm around Izabella, Stewart sat upright. Alex. That was Alex. Rushing toward the nursery, Adam was sitting on the small bed with his arms wrapped tightly around Alex. The young boy kicked and squirmed, struggling to free himself.
“You’re safe, Alex,” Adam assured him. “You’re safe in your bed.” Alex continued to fight Adam’s embrace. “Alex, listen to me. Allow Poppa to hold you.”
Alex opened his eyes and put his arms around Adam. “Awone,” he sobbed uncontrollably. “Dawk and wed and code. Couldn’t move.”
“I know,” Adam soothed. Alex continued to sob. “You’re warm and dry and safe. You’re in your bed, Alex.”
“Where George? Where Matt and Sammy?”
“Matthew is at home. George and Sammy are sleeping.”
Stewart returned to his own room, leaving the doors open. Unable to sleep, he listened for an indication Adam left the nursery. Stewart was certain he had drifted back to sleep, but then he heard feet shuffling in the hallway.
* * *
The following day, leaving Alex to play in the master bedroom with Hope and Izabella, Stewart wandered down the hall. Entering the medical area, he found Adam holding George’s hand.
“You require fresh air,” he informed his son-in-law. “I will sit with George.”
The boy’s arm and hand went limp.
“Agh,” Adam moaned.
“No-o-o,” Stewart whimpered. A lump formed in his throat and a heavy sensation filled his heart.
Adam lowered his head and wept. Stewart walked into the room and put his hand on Adam’s shoulder.
“I shall fetch the doctor,” Stewart whispered, fighting back his own tears.
“I beg of you, I require a moment, Stewart,” Adam sobbed.
Stewart left the room and wandered into the orphanage nursery. He admired the new infant that was born through the night, spoke to Sammy as he lay in a bed with the sniffles, and then worked his way down the hall to inform Izabella and Hope of the child’s death. After telephoning Vicki and Greg, and his parents, Stewart returned to the room where George lay. Adam hadn’t moved. Placing one hand over Adam’s, he gently pulled George’s hand from Adam’s grip.
“I shall return with the doctor,” he informed Adam.
After the noon meal was finished, the children were informed a family had taken George to their home. Their sick chum would be loved and cared for. In their hearts they weren’t lying to the children. George was with God and his parents. Alex scowled and stomped out of the room.
“Never in all my years at the orphanage has a child left without the others watching and waving, bidding goodbye,” Adam informed Stewart. “I’m consumed with guilt, not allowing Alex to see George, but it was the right decision.”
“I agree.”
“I will talk to Alex,” Adam informed him.
Adam rushed out of the room. Stewart watched Adam take Alex into his arms and carry him outside. Stewart closed the door behind them.
That evening, Greg and Vicki left Matt and Tessa in the care of his parents, picked up her parents, and rode to the orphanage.
“Momma, Hope wishes to come to the gravesite,” Stewart informed his mother. “Alex is not aware George died. Would you remain inside and listen in case he wakes?”
“Of course. Your poppa will keep me company.”
Once the children were settled and Alex was sleeping, Hope was assisted to the back of the property. Adam and Stewart lowered the plain wooden casket into the ground. There wasn’t a dry eye. George had lost his own life saving Alex.
* * *
“No-o-o,” Keeghan moaned. “George died? I didn’t get to know him very well, but I liked him. Damn, Alexander. This story has emotional moments. I think I prefer happy stories.”
Will gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
* * *
“A-a-a-gh!”
Stewart’s eyes snapped opened. The gut-wrenching scream echoed through the building. He scrambled out of bed and rushed into the hallway.
“A-a-a-gh,” Alex bellowed for a second time.
Adam dashed into the nursery.
Staying out of view, Stewart looked toward the twin bed. Alex trembled and fought his father’s grip.
“Poppa is here.”
“Papa,” he whimpered.
“Papa is sleeping,” Adam reassured the boy. “He is sleeping in his bed.”
“Papa,” Alex bellowed.
Stewart rushed into the room and put his hand on the back of Alex’s head. “Papa’s here.”
* * *
The nightmares continued unabated. Alex let out a blood-curdling scream once or twice a night, crying for his father and grandfather. With their doors open, both Stewart and Adam arrived at the nursery to find the young child trembling with fear.
Exhausted and losing precious sleep, Adam was found more than once, sleeping with his head on his desk.
* * *
On the third consecutive night, Hope cried, frustrated when Adam ran from the room. She sat up and waited until Adam returned to their room. Once he crawled in beside her, Hope reached for his hand.
“Bring Alex to me,” she begged. “I want to help. He can sleep between us.”
“No,” Adam whispered firmly. “I will not. His bed sheets are in shambles when I reach his room. Alex is kicking and fighting. I struggle to hold him until he’s settled. Alex must remain in his own bed. He cannot fear sleeping alone in his room. I won’t risk your life or the life of this child,” he said. He touched her expanded stomach.
“My heart breaks when I hear his scream.”
“As does mine,” he assured her. “It pains me knowing our child is suffering, but I also need some sleep.”
* * *
The next day, Hope was sitting up in bed, staring out the window daydreaming. She turned and looked at Izabella.
“Would you close the door,” she requested.
Izabella rose from the chair and closed the door to the hallway then returned to her chair beside the bed.
“Has Poppa spoken of the storm? Adam is having nightmares. I wake to find him twitching and mumbling. I believe he is yelling for Alex and George.”
“Perhaps Adam should sleep in the spare room. Do not risk the health of your child.”
“I wake him before he thrashes and could hurt me,” Hope assured her. “I’m not sleeping well at this stage of the pregnancy. I feel the motion of the bed.”
“I will tell you in confidence; your father and Greg are having nightmares, too. Your father has kicked me twice,” she confessed. She lifted the skirt of her light blue dress to show the large deep purple mass just above her knee. Hope grimaced with sympathy. “He is not aware of this. Vicki has informed me Greg is not sleeping well either. Matthew wakes calling for Alex.”
* * *
The days were exhausting for Stewart. With Greg off, Stewart and his father worked at the site. Exhausted from a lack of sleep and working a full day, Stewart contacted the next client and informed him there would be a delay in starting the project. Stewart offered a discount in the price. They finally completed the initial project, ten days behind schedule. Thankfully, Greg healed and arrived at the site on the last day. The crew were quick to tease.
* * *
Two weeks after the storm, Stewart and Izabella woke well past dawn. They dressed and shuffled down the hallway. Pleased to see Alex sleeping peacefully in the nursery, they turned and went toward the master bedroom. Hope and Adam were conversing in their room.
“Hope, love, Alex must remain in his own bed.”
Stewart tapped on their open door and entered.
“Alex needs help,” Stewart stated. He leaned against the door frame, resting his head. “Last night, the doctor informed me they can hear him in the medical area, as well as in the attic.”
“I’m not surprised. He is loud when he screams. The memory must fade in his mind,”
Adam informed him. “At his age, it is my hope that occurs in haste.” He placed his hands on his head. “I’ve been so tired I’m not thinking clearly. Alex needs to laugh and think pleasant thoughts. We must supervise the books he looks at and the events in his day. He should be supervised as he plays with the children to ensure he is not anxious or concerned.”
Stewart’s mind filled with an image.
“We shall take Alex to a circus. Allow him to giggle at silly clowns.”
“I recall scary moments in a circus,” Adam responded, questioning the idea. “We cannot allow Alex to witness anything that could cause anxiety. I fear the nightmares could become worse.”
“Heaven forbid,” Hope groaned.
“We could control the content of the circus,” Izabella suggested. “A circus at the orphanage.”
Both Adam and Hope smiled, nodding.
“With your approval, Izabella and I will make enquiries today. The program shall be thoroughly discussed and approved.”
“All the children will enjoy a circus,” Hope responded, her face bright with her smile.
* * *
Saturday morning, a trailer full of supplies and costumes arrived at the orphanage. Greg and Vicki arrived with Matt and Tessa. Marcus was invited, but his teenaged children declined. The orphanage children were ushered to seats which had been set up especially for the show. Alex sat proudly between his cousins. Positioned at either end of the first row, Adam and Greg watched for the boy’s reactions, prepared to stop the production if Alex or Matthew became distressed. Hope, Vicki, Izabella, and Stewart sat under a tree nearby with Stewart’s parents. The show began and all the children giggled and laughed throughout the performance. It was a wonderful day. The best Stewart could recall in recent memory.
That evening, Adam and Stewart spoke of the circus, reminding Alex of the clowns and their silly noses. Unable to keep his eyes open, Alex fell asleep in Adam’s arms with a slight smile on his face.
“Sweet dreams, Alex,” Adam whispered. “Dream of those silly clowns and those beautiful colours.”
The following evening, Alex fell asleep, snuggled in his father’s arms. On the third night, Stewart went to bed convinced the nightmares were over.
“A-a-agh.”
Stewart darted out of bed and raced to the nursery, Alex wasn’t lying in shambled sheets, but on his stomach, clenching his pillow.
“You are a good boy,” Adam whispered. He rubbed his son’s back. “I love you, Alex.”
To their mutual relief, Alex settled and was sleeping within a few minutes.
Chapter Eleven
It took almost a month, but the bruising on Alex’s face faded and disappeared. A scar by his left eye remained as a reminder of that dreadful day. Over the next month, Alex woke occasionally, waking Hope and Adam, but Adam would return to bed within a few minutes.
“Alex was sleeping when I got to his room.”
“That is pleasing to hear.”
* * *
Reading a story to Alex, pain in her belly silenced Hope.
“Alex, go find Poppa or Papa. Quickly.”
Alex jumped off the bed and ran out the door.
“Poppa! Papa.”
Another pain rippled across her belly. She grasped her stomach, struggling to breathe. Her father hurried into the room, holding Alex’s hand. He leaned toward the bed and kissed her forehead.
“You’re not fevered.” There was relief in his tone. “Izabella is still visiting her brother. I don’t expect to see her until the sun is setting. Once I locate Adam, I’ll call for your doctor.”
He picked up Alex and left the room.
Within a few minutes, Adam entered the room. He came to the bed, kissed her forehead and her cheek.
“I’m not fevered. It is my hope we will have another child, or perhaps two given my size, before the night is out.”
“Doc Leo assures me there is only one heartbeat. Given your history of producing daughters, we’ll welcome another son. I’m looking forward to being a poppa to two boys.”
“Your concern is evident in your face.”
Adam sat on the edge of the bed and held her hands.
“I admit, I’ll be relieved once Doc informs me I have a healthy wife and child. With you confined, and with Alex running about, it seemed like a long pregnancy.”
“Indeed. I don’t want another surprise, but I look forward to being a proper wife again.”
“I love you, Hope Venderkemp.”
“And I you.”
When the family doctor arrived, Adam gave Hope a gentle kiss and left the room.
* * *
Stewart made telephone calls to Vicki, his parents, and Adam’s parents. Lastly, he called the castle to inform the rest of the family of the impending birth.
Stewart and Adam fed Alex his dinner and Stewart listened as Adam read a bedtime story.
“Momma. Want Momma.”
“You can visit with Momma tomorrow, Alex.”
Stewart remained with his grandson, eventually falling asleep, snuggled onto the twin-sized bed. Feeling the blanket being pulled over his shoulders, Stewart forced his eyelids to part. Izabella smiled and kissed his cheek. He staggered to his feet and followed Izabella out of the nursery. Adam was in their sitting room, standing at the window, staring into the dark.
“What have you been told?” she questioned.
“It began with some indigestion which Hope thought were contractions. Given her past, Doc Leo stayed, waiting for it to pass. Contractions began an hour ago. I’ve looked into the room twice. In Hope’s opinion, this child is not in a hurry to enter this world.”
“Nor was Alex,” Izabella reminded them.
“In Doc’s opinion, the child will enter the world in the early hours of the morning.”
* * *
Stewart sat in the hallway, leaning against the wall, watching Adam pace back and forth in front of him. The time seemed to tick by slowly, but in fact, Hope gave birth four hours after her first contraction. When the cry of a new-born child heralded the birth, Adam buried his face in his hands.
“Please God,” he whispered. “I’ll be eternally grateful if both Hope and our child are healthy.”
Stewart yawned and wandered down the hallway and into the nursery to check on Alex. He stood by the crib, listening to Alex breathing. A hand touched his shoulder. Turning, he saw Izabella and reached for her hand. Together, they walked into the hallway and toward Adam. It seemed to take a lifetime before Doc finally emerged from the room. His face was heavy with exhaustion, but he smiled.
“Congratulations, Adam. Hope is ready to receive you.”
The weight of the world was lifted from Stewart’s shoulders. Able to breathe, Natasha’s Hope was well, as was their new grandchild.
* * *
Hope was relaxing against her bed pillow looking at their child when Adam entered the room. “We have a daughter,” she gloated. “A strong, healthy little girl.”
“A daughter?”
“No male parts.”
“Hope! Your wit becomes worse when you’re tired.”
Hope grinned and then looked at her belly. “Doc assures me there was only one child, but I question that as I look at my stomach. I still appear with child.”
“You’re beautiful, Hope Venderkemp. I love you. If you’re up to it, your poppa and Izabella wish to see you. They’re in the hallway.”
“Please. Invite them in.”
Hope yawned as her poppa and Izabella entered. “You have a granddaughter, Poppa.”
“The baby is beautiful, Hope,” Izabella informed her.
“Izabella and I will care for Alex in the morning. I will make telephone calls, informing the family I have a granddaughter.”
* * *
Stewart rose well rested. After feeding his grandson, he held the young boy’s hand and walked outside to pick a bouquet of flowers for Hope.
“I have always preferred wild flowers, but we’re not walking that far this
morning. You must assist me and choose a flower for your momma and the baby.”
Alex looked around the flower garden and then pointed.
“A beautiful rose,” Stewart stated. He clipped the base of the flower. “Another perhaps?”
“Un beaudifuw wose,” Alex announced proudly.
“One rose for one baby girl. You are correct, Alex.”
Stewart reached for Alex’s hand and led the boy to their home. Izabella was in the dining area, finishing her coffee when Stewart and Alex entered the room. Standing, she opened the cabinet behind her and retrieved a small crystal vase. She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with it filled with water. Stewart placed the flower into the vase and watched as Izabella sniffed it.
“Momma will love the rose,” Izabella remarked.
Alex smiled, obviously proud of himself. They walked up the private staircase and down the hallway. Once they reached the bedroom, Izabella handed the vase to the young boy.
“Two hands,” she insisted. “You must be very careful.”
* * *
Hope had just finished feeding the baby when their little boy appeared at the doorway.
“Take the baby, Adam. I wish to greet Alex properly.” She turned her attention to her son. “My goodness. A beautiful rose,” she acknowledged. “Momma would like a big hug and kiss.”
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