"Mr. Dante?" The voice that interrupted them was lashed with weariness and had a French flavor. The woman wore surgical scrubs and a worried look.
"Yes?" Jess got to his feet immediately, his expression guarded.
"I'm Cecile Benoit, Silvia's doctor."
Jess offered his left hand, and Hazel caught the small stutter of surprise in the other woman's eyes before she gave him hers.
Because his chest was so wide, the absence of his arm gave him a slightly lopsided look. It hadn't taken her long to get used to it. Others sometimes had more difficulty.
"Silvia said that you were a man of your word, so she's let herself expect you," the doctor commented with a faint smile. "I wasn't as confident."
"Sounds like you're a cynic, Doctor."
"I've dealt with attorneys before."
"Not with me."
"Point taken, Mr. Dante."
Hazel thought she noticed a slight smile come into Dr. Benoit's eyes and mentally awarded the advantage to Jess as he glanced her way.
"Dr. Benoit, this is Dr. Hazel O'Connor. She's a child psychologist practicing in Sacramento, and I've asked her to come here to represent the baby's interests."
"I see."
As the doctor turned toward her to offer her hand, Hazel noticed shadows under the other woman's eyes and a cast of weariness to her full, pale lips. Too much responsibility and worry on too little sleep, she diagnosed, then felt an immediate affinity for the other woman.
"I assume the baby's been born?" she said softly.
Dr. Benoit nodded. "About thirty minutes ago. We've just taken Silvia back to the ward."
"How's she doing?" Jess asked.
"Poorly. She hemorrhaged badly before the birth. That and the lengthy delivery have sapped her strength, so much so her white count is dangerously low, even after multiple transfusions"
"And the baby?" Hazel put in.
"Normal, thank the good Lord. A girl. Six pounds, five ounces. Normal reflexes and response to stimuli."
Jess looked distinctly uncomfortable. "That sounds awfully tiny."
"Prison babies tend to be small," Dr. Benoit explained with a brief, humorless smile.
"Will the mother be able to breast-feed?" Hazel asked, thinking of the baby's need for nurturing and closeness.
"Unfortunately, no. Not only because it's against the rules, but because Silvia is far too weak to manage."
Dr. Benoit's eyes seethed with the very real frustration of a healer who'd done all she could and was still losing.
"Can we see her?" Jess asked.
"Ordinarily I'd say no, but I know how much she's been looking forward to your visit. Perhaps a talk with you would ease some of her concerns about the baby's future."
Jess looked uncomfortable but determined. "Anything we should know before we talk to her?"
"Just that she's very weak physically and even more fragile emotionally. Whatever you do, please don't upset her."
Turning abruptly, Dr. Benoit led the way.
The ward where Silvia was assigned was two doors up and across the hall. Hazel counted four beds in a room designed for two. All were filled. Two of the women were sleeping; the third was playing a desultory game of solitaire. The fourth bed was screened on two sides by curtains hanging from the ceiling.
On the far wall, the only window in the room let in a grid of bright yellow sunshine. Everything else was leached of color, including the thin blankets. Like the prison reception area, the room held no cheery cards, no flowers, not even a picture on the wall.
The doctor saw her looking around and paused. "We have a small OR here, but no ICU."
The doctor drew aside one of the curtains, revealing a young, hollow-eyed woman who looked more childlike than maternal. Hazel could see traces of the beauty she must have been in the long black hair, now stringy and limp, and in the provocative shape of her lips.
But the sunken brown eyes that might have danced with a girl's storybook fantasies were now haunted by shadows and rimmed with exhaustion. At that moment they were intently fixed on Jess's face.
He had to lean down to take her hand in his. "Hey, little mama," he said in a gruff tone that brought a sting to Hazel's eyes. "How're you doin'?"
Silvia's pale mouth trembled as she attempted a smile. "Not … so good."
"I've brought a friend to help. Her name is Dr. O'Connor, and she knows a lot about kids. You can trust her."
Silvia blinked, then slowly shifted her gaze until her tired brown eyes were fixed on Hazel's. "She has … a nice face," she murmured in a tone barely above a whisper. Hazel noticed then that Silvia's voice was sweet as a child's and flavored with the lilt of her Mexican heritage.
"She's a nice lady." Jess's quick glance beckoned Hazel closer.
"Hello, Silvia. We haven't seen your baby yet, but Dr. Benoit says she's adorable."
For an all-too-brief moment the woman's eyes brightened into rare beauty. "I … named her Francisca, after my mother."
"Oh, Silvia, that's such a beautiful name. I know she'll love it a lot when she grows up."
"I … hope so." Tears softened the haunting shadows in the sad brown eyes. "It's all I have to give her. It doesn't seem right…"
A sob racked her frail body, followed by another that ended in a coughing fit that left the young mother gasping.
Dr. Benoit poured water from a small plastic pitcher and helped Silvia drink. The water seemed to revive her, but Dr. Benoit kept a watchful eye on her patient as she took back the glass.
"Try not to make yourself so upset, Silvia, or Mr. Dante and Dr. O'Connor will have to leave."
"No … please," Silvia managed to get out between rasping breaths. "I have to make sure… I don't want my little girl to grow up like me, no education, no talent but makin' babies with a man she hates."
Hazel bit her lip and glanced at Jess. His face was set in harsh lines, his jaw held at an angle just shy of pugnacious. "That's all over now, Silvia. You and Cleve are divorced. He can't hurt you anymore."
"His lawyer says I can't see my boys no more, even if I get parole."
"He's wrong. As soon as you're out of here, we'll haul him into court and make him let you see your boys."
Hazel heard a note of steel in Jess's deep voice and suddenly felt sorry for that other lawyer.
Silvia's gaze fell, and her free hand plucked weakly at the thin blanket. "Cleve says they hate me."
Hazel moved closer. "Silvia, listen to me. I work with kids every day. Big ones, little ones, sad ones, naughty ones – all kinds of kids. One thing that's the same in all of them is the love each one has for his mother. It's a special kind of love. A rare, beautiful, mystical love. And it's stronger than words or deeds or … even death sometimes. No matter what some idiot man says."
Tears slid from Silvia's eyes and ran down her thin, pale cheeks. "I loved my boys, Dr. O'Connor. You have to believe me." Her gaze swung to Jess's face. "Tell her, Mr. Dante, the way you told that jury. How I … I only wanted to scare Cleve into treatin' me right for their sakes. I'm not that awful person them welfare people say I am. I'm not!"
Her impassioned plea seemed to drain the last of her energy, and she sank back against the pillow, spent. Small beads of perspiration dotted her hairline, and her breathing took on a laborious heaviness, drawing a warning scowl from the doctor.
"It's okay, Silvia," Jess said with a burr of emotion roughening his tone. "Dr. O'Connor understands."
It was less than a glance he flicked her way, but Hazel noticed. "Of course I do," she said as soothingly as she could. "And I'll do everything I can to see that Francisca isn't taken away from you."
"She … the lady from the welfare who came to see me, she said there has to be a hearing, to see … who's best to raise Francisca."
"Don't worry, kid," Jess put in gruffly. "Nobody's gonna take Francisca away from you. You'll be back on your feet and out of here before I run out of appeals to file."
Hazel sensed the woman's struggle to draw strength and wish
ed she could do something to help. But Silvia's hollow eyes were fixed on Jess's face, as though only he mattered.
"The man who made her doesn't want her," she whispered. "He said he loved me, but as soon as he got what he wanted, it was like I wasn't no good no more."
Jess leaned closer. "Don't worry, Silvia. I'm planning on attending that hearing. That lady you're talking about will find out she has a fight on her hands."
"The lady … she said there's lots of folks with good homes wantin' babies, and she said I could say who I wanted to adopt my baby. She called it private, uh—"
"Private placement," Jess finished quietly.
Silvia inhaled laboriously as she nodded. "She said if I loved my baby, I would do that for her."
Most of the time Hazel agreed with Protective Services. In this case, however, she found herself torn.
"Did she also tell you that you'd have to relinquish custody of Francisca?" she put in as gently as possible. "That you wouldn't have any rights where she was concerned, even after you're free again?"
There was no need for Silvia to answer. The tormented look in her eyes said it all.
"Is that what you want?" Jess questioned in his quiet, intense way. "To give your baby to someone else to raise?"
"I prayed and prayed to the Holy Mother to tell me the right person for Francisca."
Jess's jaw tightened, but his expression remained controlled. "And did she?"
Her nod was barely perceptible. "The welfare lady said I needed a lawyer to make things legal and all."
"It's not something I know a lot about," he said carefully, "but I know someone who does."
Silvia's hand had been lost in his. Now she tugged it free and struggled to sit up, but her weakened, emaciated frame failed her. Dr. Benoit helped by elevating the bed.
"No, I want you," Silvia said when enough strength returned to support speech. "Nobody but you. You're not like them other lawyers, the ones on Cleve's side. You know what it's like to be scared and alone. To feel all torn up inside."
Hazel noticed that Jess was looking more and more uncomfortable. Somehow Silvia had seen through the armor to the wounded man inside.
"All them weeks … the trial … the bad things about me in the newspapers, I prayed and prayed for someone to help me, for someone to believe I wasn't a bad person—" Gripped by a sudden coughing seizure, she broke off, gasping.
The doctor hastily counted Silvia's pulse, then met Jess's eyes. Nodding, he reached into the pocket of his corduroy jacket for a small notebook, which he flipped open, then laid on the bed before reaching into the same pocket for his pen.
"First I'll need the name of the person you've picked out to adopt your daughter," he told Silvia, more gentle than Hazel had ever seen him. "And an address if you have it."
Silvia stared up at him with a strange look on her face. "I already said who," she whispered.
Jess frowned. "You did?"
"You, Mr. Dante. I want you to take Francisca." Fresh tears spilled from her eyes as she clutched his hand once more. "Promise me … all I ask is that you don't let Francisca forget me."
* * *
Hazel talked Jess into stopping by the makeshift nursery before they left. As soon as they stepped into the small room with a crib and a rocking chair, he knew he'd made a mistake.
The place might be fixed up like a nursery, but it still smelled like a hospital. He didn't believe in déjà vu. He did believe in some pretty rotten memories he would just as soon stayed buried.
"Is this where she was born?" Hazel asked the doctor, glancing around them slowly, her expression grim.
Benoit nodded. "Through there," she said, indicating double doors to the left.
"It seems … obscene," Hazel murmured. "Prisons and babies, I mean."
Benoit sighed. "I tell myself I'll get used to it someday. Who knows, maybe I really will."
Jess dropped his gaze. Funny, he'd said the same thing a time or two to himself. He hadn't been talking about babies, however.
The nursing assistant on duty had a harried look about her, but she brightened considerably when Dr. Benoit relayed their request to see Baby Yoder.
The nurse's name was Arquette, and she spoke with an accent. Jess figured it was Australian.
"I'm always thrilled when I get to take care of a newborn," she said, bustling around with an efficient air about her that made Jess nervous.
"How is she doing?" Hazel asked, moving closer to the crib for a better look.
"Splendidly," the nurse murmured. "Would either of you like to hold her?"
Her gaze fell on Jess first, then skittered quickly to Hazel and remained there. Jess ground his teeth. He should be used to the stares by now.
"Me first," Hazel said softly, as though the nurse had given them a choice.
"Here, let me just fetch her up for you." The nurse lowered the crib's tall side and gently gathered the baby into her arms.
Hazel slung her purse over one shoulder, then took a deep breath. It was the first time Jess had seen her nervous, and he wondered if she'd ever wanted children of her own.
Had she been married? he wondered, and then realized that he didn't know because he'd never asked. Knowing too much about some women was dangerous. It made a man want to know more.
"Careful, the little lamb has just had an enormous bottle," the nurse murmured as she carefully nestled the baby into the crook of Hazel's arm. "There you go, love."
"Oh my, she's awake," Hazel whispered. "And so tiny." Laughing softly, she brushed the black thatch of hair with her finger. "Look, Jess, she's smiling at you."
Feeling more and more awkward and out of place, Jess took a quick look at the small round face all but buried in the fuzzy pink blanket.
"Looks like she's mostly hair to me."
Hazel lifted her gaze from the baby's face to his, her smile still soft, her eyes filled with wonder. Jess had guarded his emotions so well and for so long that it took him a moment to realize how much he'd come to like Hazel O' Connor over the years, in spite of every intention not to.
"She's so precious," Hazel murmured, her voice wobbly and her eyes filling with tears. "This has to be breaking Silvia's heart."
Somewhere in the distance a woman cried out. Another shouted an obscenity. Jess couldn't remember a time when he'd been more desperate to escape a place.
"This isn't over yet," he vowed, his voice low and rough. "I'll talk to Silvia again tomorrow, when she's stronger. Convince her to fight."
Hazel nodded. "I want to help. Anything you need me to do … testify at the custody hearing, call in a few favors with Teri Grimes at Protective Services. Anything to help Silvia keep her baby."
"All of the above would help," he said.
It had been a long time since he'd allowed himself to trust a woman's motives without checking her out first. A man got burned when he let himself trust too deeply.
"If you'll excuse me," the doctor said quietly. "I'd better get back to my patient."
Jess caught the quick look she exchanged with the nurse and wondered about it. "Let me know if she needs anything," he told the doctor.
"Are you a praying man, Mr. Dante? Because if you are, that's what she could use most. Your prayers."
Without waiting for his answer, she nodded goodbye to Hazel, then beckoned for the nurse to accompany her into the corridor.
Hazel felt Jess's gaze come back to her. Since they'd walked into the sad little nursery, he'd been watching her with an intensity that she would have found intolerable in another man. She accepted it from Jess because intensity was as much a part of him as his imperious Roman nose and the subtle swagger in his walk.
"Would you like to hold her?" she asked softly. "She's no trouble."
Jess glanced down at the warm, pink baby waving her two miniature fists in the air. His experience with babies was thin at best. His niece Andrea had been born during the months when he'd been newly divorced, mad as hell at everyone who wasn't hurting as much as he'd been an
d generally behaving like a self-pitying jerk. While his brother Garrett had been learning to change diapers, he'd been trying his damnedest to drink himself to death.
When Jesse had been born, the kid had been a buster, practically walking and talking the moment he came into the world. Holding him had been a cinch, a lot like playing with a roly-poly puppy. But this little scrap of a thing was scarcely bigger than his hand. One mistake, one unexpected moment of clumsiness, and she could be badly hurt.
"No thanks. You're doing fine."
"Go ahead and take her. She won't break," Hazel urged, her voice soft and her eyes dark with an emotion he wasn't about to let himself share.
"Yeah, well, I'm not much for babies," he said gruffly. "Not much for hospitals, either, so if you don't mind, I'll wait for you outside."
* * *
Chapter 3
«^»
A rare California gully washer had hit the valley while they'd been inside the prison, making the interstate between Pleasanton and Sacramento an oil-slicked obstacle course.
It seemed foolish to spend two hours or more on the road, only to get in late and then have to leave early the next morning to visit with Silvia one more time. Staying over near Santa Rita had been the logical choice.
The nearest motel was part of a chain, unpretentious but comfortable. Jess had checked them in, insisting quietly but firmly on paying for both rooms. Hazel had protested, then argued, and finally conceded. Dante with his mind made up was as immovable as a brick wall.
It was nearly eight by the time they headed for the restaurant for something to eat. Like the motel, it was nothing to rave about, but neither of them seemed inclined to search for anything else.
Most of the tables and booths had been taken by the time they walked in, but the hostess managed to find them a booth near the rear.
Jess ordered two hamburgers and an extra order of fries, ate every bite and was already on his second cup of coffee by the time Hazel had worked her way through most of a tasteless chef salad.
"Do you always eat that much?" she asked when she couldn't eat another bite. Forty minutes of silence was her limit. Anything longer than that and she got squirrelly.
ONCE UPON A WEDDING Page 3
