Heartless A Shieldmaiden's Voice: A Covenant Keeper Novel

by S. R. Karfelt

  “What the heck?” he said, “I didn’t know a baby even ate that much.”

  Carole whimpered. “Ted? Is there any way you could take Beth for a few hours? I don’t feel very good right now.”

  He must have seen something in her face, because his expression went from fearful to sympathetic. “I have a meeting—but Kimberly could, if you’re okay with that.”

  “I don’t think I have much choice. Please ask her to stay here with her though? So I can feel her.”

  “Okay. Is she sick?”

  “No, no. I am. Take her?” Ted gathered Beth into his arms but all Carole saw was the lion licking the stump where the head had been. A wave of horror washed over her and Beth started to sob.

  “She’s going to cry the whole time, isn’t she?”

  “Probably.” Carole sat down on the bed. She couldn’t see now. The dark dreams were covering her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “It’s okay. Kimberly’s used to it. Do you need anything?” He sounded concerned, and she wished she could see his expression again.

  “No, just go, please.”

  The door clicked as he pulled it open, adjusting Beth. “Carole? I’m sorry I make you so sad.”

  “You make me happy too.” The black dreams were taking her, she couldn’t hear all of his response through the snarls of lions, but it sounded like he might have told her she frightened him.

  CAROLE KNOCKED ON the door of Kimberly’s hotel room, on the other side of the door Beth’s cries ceased. The door whipped open almost immediately.

  “So you’re the teenage mother? You look older.” Sharply beautiful, chic and made-up beneath waves of flowing hair, Kimberly didn’t look any more like a nanny than Carole looked nineteen.

  “Thank you for watching her.” Carole held out her arms for Beth, who coyly leaned back in Kimberly’s arms and looked at her mother upside down.

  “They can do genetic testing now, to prove paternity.” Kimberly made no move to release Beth.

  Carole simply held her arms out.

  Kimberly tightened her hold on Beth. “We’d adopt her. She’d be better off and you could have your freedom.”

  “I want my daughter.”

  “Of course you do, it’s your only hold on him.” Kimberly thrust Beth roughly into Carole’s arms. “He doesn’t love you, he wants the baby.”

  Beth whimpered, little emotion barometer that she was. “I know,” Carole whispered, and even though she didn’t completely believe that, it really hurt. She allowed her feelings to show on her face. Kimberly looked like the kind of person who liked to kick when you’re down.

  “You’re a slutty gold-digger.”

  Bingo. All’s fair in love and war, Carole thought.

  From the hall behind Carole, Ted walked up to her side, surprising only the nanny. He glanced briefly into Carole’s eyes before turning his gaze on his girlfriend. “She’d be wasting her time, Kimberly, since I don’t have any gold—and if she’s a slut, what are you?”

  “Ted! I’m just telling it like it is,” Kimberly defended herself.

  Ted took Beth out of Carole’s arms. A wide grin stretched across Beth’s face, and she happily patted his chest.

  “Is that it? Do you think I have money? Everything from White Enterprises went to creditors when my father died. I’m still paying off the loans for his state funeral. Didn’t you hear the Washington rumors?”

  “I don’t care if you have any money.” Kimberly wasn’t much of a liar. Beth stuck a tiny finger out at her as though she recognized the lie too. Carole gently slid Beth out of her father’s arms, lifted the tiny finger to her lips, kissed it, and walked away. Beth giggled louder with each step.

  AFTER KIMBERLY LEFT, Ted unlocked the door between his hotel room and Carole’s. Beth avoided the portable crib housekeeping provided, and slept nuzzled against her mother at night. Carole sensed Ted sometimes creep into her hotel room to watch them. Beth would giggle then, in her sleep. Carole suspected Ted knew that meant she was awake, that she was the one thrilled to have him so close. If Ted’s fingers accidentally brushed against Carole’s over dinner, Beth would sigh and hold out her arms to her father, opening and closing her hands in a pick-me-up gesture of impatience.

  Sometimes Ted would bring organic fruit or fresh vegetables from a farmer’s market near his office. He’d leave the produce for Carole on the round faux wood table in her hotel room without saying a word. Beth would tear herself away from studying the patterns on the draperies or from an attempt to splash in the hotel toilet, and crawl across the room and up her father’s leg until he lifted her to hang onto his neck. Ted obviously adored the choking hugs. Carole supposed it was the main reason he became thoughtful about bringing food she could eat. She also suspected Ted would do whatever it took to make Beth happy. Ted started to rest his hand against Carole’s on the dinner table, and sit next to her on the tiny loveseat in her hotel room. With his leg pressed against hers, Carole once again felt the touch of Ted’s heart in hers. Faint compared to Beth’s, but it was the heart of the man she loved.

  One evening Ted knocked on the door between their rooms.

  “Can I come in?” At Beth’s joyful screech, he shoved open the door. Carole sat at the little hotel table with Beth on her lap, feeding her applesauce and bits of pumpkin. Ted paused beside Beth and kissed the top of her head, gently brushing fingers through Carole’s tousled hair. Food dropped out of Beth’s mouth with her enthusiastic ha ha ha. Ted plunked down in a chair across from them and dropped a deck of cards on the table. He tapped the pile with a big finger and slid the top card off, bending it slightly so she couldn’t see.

  “What card is it?” he asked. The back of the card had a picture of The Washington Monument on it. Carole shrugged, and Ted lifted another card, peering at her questioningly. “Come on, guess what card it is.”

  “Why?” she wondered.

  “It’s a test—if you’re really psychic you’ll get at least half of them.” Carole laughed, and Beth mimicked the response, chuckling while bits of pumpkin dribbled down her chin.

  “I never said I was psychic, and whatever I am doesn’t work like that.”

  “On demand?”

  “I can’t see through things, Ted, not like that. I can tell you exactly what those cards are composed of organically. I can tell what’s in your pockets because I can sense the organic composition. For instance I know you have thirteen bills in your wallet, but I can’t tell what denomination they are. Coins I can tell, the metals are distinctive.” The voices protested, and Carole closed her eyes a moment, running a hand over them as black dreams began to flicker.

  “It hurts you to do it, though? Gives you a headache?”

  Doing it doesn’t hurt, Carole thought, just telling you about it. She said only, “Sometimes.”

  “I hope Beth can’t do it.”

  “Me too.”

  “Do you need me to take her for the night?”

  Sweat broke out over Carole’s forehead. Images of babies taken from their parents flitted through her head. What if Ted told what she could do? Would someone take Beth from her? I trust him, she reminded herself. He has my heart, I have to.

  Nodding, she closed her eyes. “Would you? Please?”

  “YOU COULD WALK about anywhere you’d want to go from here,” Ted crowed. “It’s old, but clean. What do you think?”

  The little walk-up apartment measured about thirteen feet wide, and not all that much longer. Windows in the front looked out over the proud old neighborhood and park across the street. A tree grew right up against a window in the back. The place had absolutely no amenities, there was no air-conditioning, and the old fireplace had been bricked shut. Carole could have slept comfortably on the hardwood floor. She put Beth down, and the baby dropped to her knees to crawl the length of the rooms.

  “It’s brilliant, but I know I can’t afford anything in this part of town.”

  “I’m paying for it.”

  “Surely
you can’t afford this, your apartment in San Diego, and your own place here.”

  “It’d be cutting it close, so I was thinking—we could share it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Ted tore his eyes from Beth and looked into Carole’s face. “I think we should get married.”

  Beth started giggling as she raced away faster. Ted grinned, “So you’re not completely opposed to the idea?”

  Tears formed in Carole’s eyes and she shook her head. “But you said you don’t love me.”

  “I’m sorry. Don’t cry, Carole, please. I want us to be a family. I think we owe it to Beth to try, and I think we could make it work.”

  The tears spilled down Carole’s cheeks, but from the far side of the room, where Beth now stood on shaky legs to tug dirt out of a potted plant, their daughter started to laugh deep belly laughs.

  “Is that a yes?” Ted asked.

  TED MOVED INTO their Georgetown apartment on a weekend, insisting that Carole stay in the hotel until they were married. It struck Carole as ridiculous. To her they married the night she went to him in The Marshall Islands. Luckily Ted couldn’t bear the separation from Beth for long. He arranged for the wedding on a Tuesday morning before work. Dressed in his full Lieutenant Colonel regalia Ted showed up at the hotel early, a custom-made dress for Beth artfully arranged in a white box. Carole packed their things into her canvas bag, and Ted dressed their daughter. Beth rolled back and forth across the hotel bed giggling while he wrestled her into yellow silk. In honor of the occasion Carole sported chocolate brown trousers and a creamy satin blouse. She also wore her first pair of heels, knee length leather boots, but heels just the same. Briefly she considered slicking her short messy hair back, but settled on looking like herself for the occasion. Ted nabbed her canvas bag, swinging it over one capable shoulder and Beth onto the other. Glancing at Carole, he did a double take and smiled, offering a hand. Carole took it, her heart floating.

  TED HELD BETH, who laughed almost maniacally throughout the civil ceremony. He kissed his daughter instead of his bride when it came to that part, and The Justice of the Peace insisted on taking a wedding photograph of Ted holding Beth. After using his own camera, he never even offered to make them a print. Afterwards Ted went back to The Pentagon, and Carole went straight to the supermarket and bought a steak. She walked six miles home, carrying groceries and Beth, her heart still floating.

  THE APARTMENT HAD once been one long room and the main walls were brick. The kitchen made up the middle, with only the counter serving as a divider from the front room. Behind the kitchen, oak and glass doors separated the bedroom area. Light from the wide bedroom window lit the house through the glass walls and open archway. Ted had made a small alcove to one side of that, draping frilly curtains from floor to ceiling. Beth’s white iron crib sat tucked inside. The space in front of the kitchen counter had been designated as the living room. Leather furniture marked off the boundaries and across from it a steep column of stairs went down to the outside door. Ted had installed a sturdy gate to protect Beth from attempting to crawl down. Carole jogged lightly up the steps and latched the baby gate behind her. Beth already slept soundly against her shoulder, exhausted from her day of wild laughing.

  Tossing Anne’s colorful blanket on the floor, Carole lay Beth down to nap in the kitchen. The touch of the sweet, innocent little heart swam around hers while she made a marinade for Ted’s steak and slid it into the refrigerator. Carole made her bread recipe, muffins of grated carrots and applesauce, and a pumpkin maple cake. Peas, carrots and spinach were cooked and frozen into cubes to supplement Beth’s meals. A squash casserole went into the oven with twice-baked potatoes, and she mixed a green salad. Every recipe that Beth would eat, Carole wrote on index cards in pencil for whoever would be the new nanny. The thought of Kimberly sent a slight ripple of worry down her back, but she shoved it away. Carole’s wedding ring felt uncomfortable on her left hand, heavy platinum encrusted with diamonds. It was surely an heirloom, something that Kimberly would have appreciated from Ted’s wealthy past. Carole forced the thoughts away. Kimberly was before they married in his eyes. Ted had taken a vow and he was a man of honor. She ignored what the voices had to say about that.

  THAT EVENING TED came home with whiskey on his breath, ate his steak, gave Beth her bath and went to sleep on the sofa in front of the television. Curled in her crib, Beth cried all night. Carole turned her thoughts towards the dark dreams hovering at the edge of her consciousness, looking for anything she could see about mothers and daughters. Knowing she had to break the connection. Beth was becoming a frightening mess. After a wakeful night of self-induced black dreams, Carole woke to a morning with a colossal headache, no answers, and a sobbing baby.

  EARLY THANKSGIVING MORNING, Carole found Ted asleep on the couch again. It’s going to take time, she told herself. She’d have to be patient. Carole tried to imagine what it was like for Ted, married to a woman for the sake of their child, a strange woman. Even though he knew more about her than anyone ever had, it only seemed to distance him. It made her glad that she’d never told anyone before, and not just because of the punishing black dreams. Focusing on stuffing the first turkey she’d ever cooked and deep in thought, Carole’s attention wandered from Beth’s toddling steps and quick crawls as she snooped around the apartment. Just as Carole slid the bird into the oven, some maternal sense warned her to look up. Beth teetered on the top step of the steep open staircase. It was a long way down. Ted sprawled on the sofa much closer, but Carole didn’t think to cry out. She shot over the kitchen counter with every ounce of energy she possessed. Ted had noticed Beth too. He managed two steps before Carole flew past him, jumped the railing and landed on the stairs below Beth. Carole caught her daughter as she toppled, snatching her neatly out of the air. Beth laughed a real belly laugh, and Carole glanced through the railing at her husband still standing near the sofa, his mouth hanging open. After a long moment filled with only the sound of Beth’s chuckling, Carole walked slowly up the steps and tugged the baby gate closed, latching it. She heard Ted’s gulp. The dash across the apartment should have been impossible, and for Beth she’d done it in plain view of Ted. The voices didn’t say a word.

  The next few hours, Carole was painfully aware of the way Ted watched her. Seated at their tiny Thanksgiving table, Carole addressed it straight out. “I really don’t know why or how I can do those things.”

  Ted pulled the loaf of Carole’s homemade bread across the table. Beth did a face plant into her slice, sucking a hole through the middle and making a happy nom-nom sound.

  “Mother bear syndrome,” he said without meeting her eyes. “I saw on television once where a mother lifted a car off of her son. Human beings are capable of amazing things.”

  Carole knew he didn’t believe his own explanation. “I think my mother and grandmother could do some unusual stuff too. I can remember things—but they died when I was three, so I’m not sure how much is my imagination. I think my grandmother could do this thing with music where I’d hear it in my head.”

  “She was a singer?”

  “No, not exactly, she didn’t actually sing, and they weren’t her songs. I’d see it too, but it was all inside my—”

  “It’s probably better if you don’t speculate like that, Carole. It’s probably your imagination anyway.”

  Frustration won out. “Okay, I’ll stick to facts, Ted. I can hold my breath for twenty minutes, and run a mile in under four minutes, I always could, at least since I’ve timed myself. And I can measure time in my head, and weight. Beth weighs eighteen pounds seven point two ounces right now. You weigh two ounces under two-oh-four. If you eat all that turkey you’ll probably—”

  “Carole! Please, don’t! It’s Thanksgiving! Can we just have a normal dinner?”

  “That’s just it Ted, I really don’t know what normal even is.”

  “Could you try?”

  She was very good at pretending. “Yes, if you like.”

/>   “I would like it, Carole. Very much.” Ted pulled the glass butter dish across the table. Carole tried to think of something normal to say while he buttered his bread and the shouting voices punished her indiscretion. After an uncomfortable silence during which she couldn’t think of a single thing, he said, “You make really good bread, the best I’ve ever had. Tomorrow’s Bethy’s first birthday so I ordered her a cake made with organic flour.”

  THE ENORMOUS ORGANIC birthday cake came iced in mounds of frosting bright with food coloring. Obligingly Carole snapped pictures while Beth rubbed it into her pretty hair and proceeded to stuff handfuls into Ted’s mouth, flat out dodging all attempts her father made to slip a piece into her mouth. Sitting on a chair beside the birthday girl, he said, “Beth, no like cake?”

  Beth regarded him solemnly for a moment, both pink frosted hands in the air, fingers spread wide. Then she stunned both her parents by replying, “No, I don’t,” in perfect English. Nothing Ted or Carole could do after that could drag another such response from her.

  That night, Ted tucked Beth into her crib and left for a beer. Crawling into her bed alone, a little voice spoke inside Carole’s head. It sounded very different from the voices that had plagued her all her life, and it said something she’d never heard before.

  “Mom? I’m thirsty.” Carole sat straight up, her mind racing. Oh my God, the voices were changing! This could be the psychotic break she’d been expecting since high school. “Please, Mom? Some milk? In your cup, not the yucky one Daddy uses.” Trembling, Carole flipped on her bedside lamp and hurried to the archway. In the alcove Beth’s crib sat in a sea of pink and white stripes. Her daughter sat up, watching expectantly. She looked at her mother’s empty hands. “Don’t we have milk?” Beth asked out loud.