Jack looked older these days. His incarceration and the trial had aged him a bit—matured him, maybe. “I’m glad David’s here,” he said. “You’re right. When the time comes, I won’t be much help.”
“It’s okay. You went to get the bananas.” She lifted her glass in a thank-you salute. “You know…one of my first memories is of you freaking out when I fell off my bike. I was probably about five years old. You took one look at the blood running down my legs and the tears and snot streaming down my face, and you ran like the Devil was chasing you.”
A smile flickered briefly across his face. “My memory is the police showing up to tell Mom that Dad’s campaign plane had crashed. She collapsed on the floor, and you started screaming louder than you were already. I was ten, you were five. I couldn’t help either one of you. My dad was dead and my life was shattered.”
“I am sorry, Jack. It had to have been a horrible day. I know you idolized him, so did I.”
“There wasn’t anything he couldn’t do. He taught me to hunt, ride a horse, and even how to read a senate bill. And then he was gone. I didn’t handle it well.”
“He taught you to love history, too. You went to his college classes while you were still in high school and you couldn’t stop talking about what a great teacher he was.”
“I’m sorry it’s not one of my memories. Sounds like a good one.”
“But you saw him introduce bills in the Senate. It’s a good one I don’t have.”
“From what you’ve said about Dad, I’d prefer your version of my past rather than my own. Not only did you have him longer, but he was home every night. In my memories, Mom and Dad were rarely home. They were always campaigning.”
“I don’t know if it’s worse for a boy to lose his dad at ten or twenty. At either age, it’s life-altering.”
Jack glanced around the nursery he had helped her decorate, insisting it be filled with boy sorts of things, too, particularly University of Kentucky basketball and New York Yankees paraphernalia. She had enjoyed shopping with him, and the expeditions to the mall and specialty shops had helped them both heal.
“I really screwed things up, didn’t I?”
She shrugged. “It is what it is. We’ll deal with it. At least we’ll never bore each other retelling old stories.”
“You wouldn’t have been so kind before. You would have cussed me out, and I would have deserved it. Have you noticed how different you are now?”
She patted her belly. “I’m definitely different. I’m carrying around what looks like a bowling ball.”
“Not just that. You’re as relaxed as you used to be only after a long run. There’s sadness about you, but it’s not hopelessness. It’s more like a wound that’s almost healed, but it’s still red around the edges. Having David here has been good for you.”
She picked a small book up off the table. Jack had found it in a bookstore in Los Angeles. It was titled The Abyss of War, and had been written by one Michael Abraham McCabe. “Thanks for this. I can’t believe you found it.”
“It was on a shelf behind the table and chair set up for me to sign books. I stretched and my hand knocked it off the shelf. My hair practically stood on end when I realized who wrote it.”
“I understand now what Braham was trying to tell me about being broken.” She thumbed through several pages. “The experience left on a generation horrible scars which would remain long after the war. I hear in the silence even now the cries for help. Men begging for a drop of water. Calls to God for pity.” She shivered. “Later he quotes Lincoln saying, ‘If there is a worse place than hell, I am in it.’
“Then Braham continues, saying he can’t find his way out, he can’t stop the cries, the pleas for help he hears in the night.” She thumbed to another page marker. “I can’t rid my mouth of the taste of gunmetal or rid my mind of the painful memories of the years I failed to live up to my ideals.” She thumbed to a page toward the end of the book. “The war changed me profoundly. It touched everything and left nothing unchanged, and left me a different person in every respect. There is now a great divide between who I was, who I am, and who I will become.”
She closed the book and held it to her breast. “I will treasure this always. It’s a precious gift.” She patted her belly. “Perhaps our impending progeny might read it one day.”
She swept her hair, longer now than it had ever been, to one side and let it drape over her shoulder. When she noticed Jack running his eyes over the fall of hair, she said, “The day we got back from Washington, David undid my hair, and kept doing it until I stopped wearing it pulled back. He knew what happened in the past would haunt me for the rest of my life if I didn’t let my hair down, relax, and stop worrying. You know I still have occasional flashbacks, and I’m working through them, but I’ll never forget what happened. I pray Braham found peace in the person he became.”
A popping sensation startled her and fluid gushed down the insides of her legs. “Oh my God.” She glanced down at a spreading wet stain on her maternity leggings. “Looks like my water broke.”
He frowned at her dubiously. “Are you sure you’d didn’t just pee in your pants?”
“I think I can be trusted to know the difference,” she informed him sarcastically. Her baby was coming.
“Seriously?” he said.
“Yep.”
Jack jumped up, spilling coffee down the front of his shirt. “David.”
David pounded up the stairs and appeared at the door with his phone pressed to his ear. He pointed to let them know he was on a call.
“Hang up the goddamn phone. Her water just broke.”
David’s face lit up with a big grin, and he nodded. “I have an emergency. I’ll call ye later.” He disconnected the call and hurried to Charlotte’s side to help her stand. “Jack, go get her bag and meet us at the door.”
Jack pointed to the diaper bag on top of the dressing table. “Do you want me to take the baby’s bag, too?”
“No, leave it. We’ll get it tomorrow,” David said.
“You know you’ll need it. Why not take it now?”
“Leave it, Jack,” David said, giving him a look which brooked no further comment.
Charlotte was aware she was a high-risk patient and something could happen to her or to the baby. She’d never discussed it with Jack and didn’t intend to now.
“I need to change my clothes.”
“Only a quick change. I won’t let ye delay any longer. Ye should ha’ gone to the hospital hours ago.”
A few minutes later, with David at her side, she waddled down the stairs. Jack waited by the front door, wearing a clean shirt and holding her overnight suitcase, laptop bag, and purse, and chewed on a corner of his lower lip.
“Leave the laptop here. If I decide to check email, I’ll use my phone.”
He put the computer bag on the table. “God, you have changed. Do you want your purse?”
“I’ll take it,” she said, tucking the clutch bag under her arm. “Give the car keys to David. I’d rather he drives. He’s calmer than either one of us.”
Jack sighed with obvious relief and chucked the keys to David, who barely managed to catch Jack’s bad throw. “Maybe I’ll stay here. Call me when it’s over.”
She quivered with the effort not to laugh at her brother, whose anxiety level was probably ten points higher than her own.
David glared at him and, with a slight edge in his voice, said, “Get yer ass in the car. Ye’re going with us. I won’t have Charlotte worrying about ye while she’s trying to birth a bairn. Ye can pace in the waiting room with Elliott.”
The cat rubbed up against Jack’s leg, and he scratched her head. “I’ll be back later, Cat, and we’ll talk about giving you a name. I guess you’re here to stay.”
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“Why aren’t ye here already? If ye don’t get on the plane now, ye won’t make it, and Charlotte wants ye atte
nding the birth.” David disconnected the phone and refilled Charlotte’s empty cup with ice chips. “They’re on their way to the plane, and they’ll be here in less than two hours.”
Charlotte adjusted her bulky frame, searching for a comfortable position. “What took them so long? I thought they were leaving two hours ago.”
David put his arm around her back and helped her straighten in the bed. “A mare.”
Charlotte groaned. “Elliott’s not vetting anymore. Why’d he have to be there?”
“He has high hopes for the foal. It’s one of Stormy’s.”
She crunched on the ice. “Where’s Jack?”
“Pacing in the waiting room, on the phone with his agent.”
“I forgot the New York Times best seller list comes out today. I bet he made it again.”
David placed his hand on Charlotte’s bulging tummy. “He didn’t say.”
Even before David had belly-mapped the baby, whenever he was with her, he had caressed her stomach. She had asked him why, and he had shrugged, saying he owed Braham for saving Jack’s life, and he wanted Braham’s child, as he grew, to feel the warmth of a man’s love and hear the burr of his Scottish accent.
She placed her hand over David’s, appreciating his warmth and strength. His hand reminded her so much of Braham’s, with its long slim fingers and powerful grip.
“Are you sure you want to stay in here during the birth?” she asked.
He kissed her forehead. “After going through those classes, I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Did you clear your schedule when you talked to your agent earlier? I’d love for you to stay a few more days.”
“I told her I wanted time with my godchild before I left town. She gave me two weeks, but then I have to leave. She’s scheduled a book tour starting the first of next month.”
“Between your tour and Jack’s, the baby and I will have to find a bookstore to get five minutes with either one of you.”
Jack popped his head in the door, but didn’t venture into the room. “I talked to Ken. As soon as he finishes rounds, he’ll be on his way. He said to wait for him.”
Charlotte laughed. “We’re not waiting for anybody.” Unless it was for Braham. If she knew he was on his way, she—they—would delay as long as possible. “Come in here and sit with us.”
“No, thanks. I’ll wait out here. Where are Elliott and Meredith? I thought they were supposed to be here by now.”
“There’re only now leaving the farm.”
“Well, if you need anything, I’ll be in the waiting room.” The door whooshed shut behind him.
She heaved a sigh. “Do you suppose if I told Jack I wasn’t in pain and I simply wanted him to hold my hand, he’d stay?”
David shrugged. “Ye know him better than I do. What do ye think?”
“I don’t know him as well as I used to.”
David poured more ice in her cup. “Has he changed so much?”
Something about the way David was looking at her, as if he could see inside her mind, made her heart knock lightly against her ribs. “No, but I have. Jack’s noticed, too.”
She rolled onto her side and closed her eyes for a few minutes. “Sometimes when I close my eyes, I see rats. I never saw them in the darkness, but I felt them. At night, when the baby moves and wakes me, I wake up thinking I feel them crawling on me again.”
David didn’t move, but something changed in him. He straightened, and then he quickly settled into his skin again. “Why are ye thinking about it now?”
She licked her lips and popped another ice chip into her mouth. “Moms and babies die, even in hospitals.”
He set the ice pitcher on the table with a smack. “I killed them, Charley. There were four. They’ll never crawl on ye again. They’ll never bite ye or scare ye.”
She fingered the scar on her ear. “You never told me.”
“No point in mentioning it, if ye didn’t. If I had only stayed in Washington and sent someone else to Maryland, ye wouldn’t have spent more than fifteen minutes in Henly’s hellhole.” As he spoke, the tiny lines around his eyes tightened with strain.
“Everyone was doing what they could to free Jack. Gordon gets all the blame. Come here,” she said. He leaned in, and she kissed him very lightly on the lips. “You saved my life.” She gasped and pressed her hand against her back. “Even with the epidural, I feel a different kind of pressure with this contraction.” She pressed the call button.
“Can I help you?” a nursed asked.
“I think something is changing. Will you send my nurse?”
The nurse arrived within thirty seconds. David rested his hand on Charlotte’s shoulder and she squeezed it.
After finishing her exam, the nurse pulled off her gloves and covered Charlotte’s legs with the sheet. “You’re getting close. You’re about eight centimeters dilated.”
Once the epidural was in and she no longer needed to breathe through contractions, Charlotte gave the okay for a few visitors. Word had spread, and most of the OB nurses had run in for a quick hello. It wasn’t just because they knew her. Not only had Charlotte hung a drool-worthy picture of Braham on the wall of the delivery room to use as a focal point, but David was there, and had dressed casually today. His shirt clung to his muscled shoulders without a single wrinkle, and the seams of his jeans strained against bulging thighs. A drool-worthy picture and a drool-worthy man had elicited more than a few appreciative glances from Charlotte’s well-wishers.
The Fraser clan arrived about noon. Four-year-old James Cullen climbed into a chair and kissed Charlotte’s tummy. “When’s my cousin coming out? I brung a present. Mommy, can I show Cousin Charlotte my present?”
Meredith pulled a stuffed horse out of her bag, and James Cullen clapped his hands. “I’m going to name him Thunder.”
“James Cullen,” Meredith said, “it’s the baby’s toy, not yours. The baby gets to pick a name.”
“Okay. I’ll tell my cousin to name the horse Thunder.” He jumped down and took David’s hand. “Uncle David, will you take me to get a hot dog? I saw the restaurant. Come with me.”
David glanced at Charlotte and shrugged. He adored the child, but she knew he didn’t want to leave her side.
“It’s fine,” she said. “We have plenty of time.”
“Okay, buddy. Let’s get Jack and have us some hot dogs.”
James Cullen ran from the room, yelling, “Cousin Jack. Cousin Jack.”
Meredith closed the door and rolled her eyes. “If I had half of his energy…” She gave Charlotte a hug. “How’re you feeling?”
“Good so far.”
Elliott glanced around the room. “Nice artwork.”
“For nine months, I’ve thought Braham would change his mind and join me. A picture is the best I can do, though. I want the baby to know him.”
Meredith patted Charlotte’s hand. “This baby will have friends and family who will love him and spoil him. Even our dear friend Louise called about an hour ago. She and her partner, Evelyn, are ecstatic. If you don’t get to Scotland soon, they’ll come here.”
“I might have a renter for yer house,” Elliott said. “Unless ye want to sell it.”
“I probably will, but not right now. A renter would be great. Is there anything you and David can’t do?”
“Ask me in three years,” Elliott said. “If we do a good job training the foal born this morning, he’ll have a shot at the Triple Crown.”
“What did David have to do with it?”
Elliott smiled. “He picked the mare.”
Charlotte squirmed for a moment and decided to push the call button “Would you tell my nurse I’m getting a lot of pressure down low?” The doctor came in while Charlotte was still speaking. “I think I’m ready.”
“Let’s take a look.”
“I’ll get David,” Elliott said as he gave Charlotte a quick hug and left the room.
The exam was quick. “You’re fully dilated. With the next contraction
, let’s see what you can do.”
The next two hours were grueling. Meredith hovered on one side of the bed, David on the other. They held her legs, propped up her back, and breathed with her.
At one point, Charlotte said, “That damn Braham McCabe, if he walked in here right now, I’d throw something at him. I’ll never do this again.”
Meredith and David chuckled.
“Don’t you dare laugh,” Charlotte said. “This isn’t fun.”
“One more contraction, and your baby will be out,” the doctor said.
Charlotte took a deep breath and pushed her child out. Her head dropped back on the pillow. When the baby cried, so did she.
“It’s a boy,” the doctor said.
David’s face flushed with his excitement. “Congratulations, Mom. I told ye he’d be a boy.”
She glanced at the picture, barely able to see through her tears. “We have a son, Braham.”
“He’s perfect, Charley.”
Meredith swiped at her own tears. “And beautiful.” She gave Charlotte a hug. “I’m going to go tell Elliott and James Cullen. I’ll be right back. Do you want me to send Jack in?”
“No, not unless he wants to. You can tell him, too,” Charlotte said.
The doctor clamped the cord, handed David a pair of scissors to cut it, and laid the baby on Charlotte’s belly. David beamed like any new father.
For nine months, he’d come for extended visits and had taken on all the responsibilities of an expectant father. He held her head when she threw up. He brought her ice cream and pickles when she had cravings. He took her to the beach when she was bitchy. He told her she was beautiful, and he stayed up late with her when she couldn’t sleep.
And never once had he complained or asked for more than she was able to give. This was his moment, and she was so happy he was there to share it. He was more than the baby’s godfather, and she wished her heart was free to love him as he deserved to be loved.
Meredith returned with Elliott, Kevin, Jack, James Cullen, and Ken for a quick peek.
“He has a penis, Daddy. That means I have a boy cousin. Yippee. I want to play with him. Can he ride my pony?”
The Sapphire Brooch Page 64
