“Beth, open your eyes. You have to drink this. It will make you feel better.” Jon was kneeling beside her, a glass of milk in his hand. His dark eyes were gazing intently into her own. Gentleness, warmth, love. They were all there and something more. Safety and surcease from all pain and fear.
“It’s not too strong, is it? I think I’m sup posed to push.”
“You’ll be perfectly clearheaded.” He was holding her head carefully, the rim of the glass pressing her lips. “I’ve just added a sedative I brought back with me from abroad.” His gaze was holding her own. “It’s very safe and said to be a miracle drug. You’ll have no pain at all from now on. You’ll be absolutely relaxed and the baby will come easily, joyously. Do you believe me?”
Of course she believed him. It was clear everything he said was true. It would be wonderful to be free of pain. She nodded and quickly swallowed the milk. It was warm and soothing and thoroughly disgusting. “I hate hot milk.”
Jon chuckled. “But the pain is gone.”
It was gone and she wasn’t even surprised. “You bet it is.” She grinned up at him. “Shall we get this show on the road? Andrew is get ting impatient.”
She heard Gunner’s delighted laughter and laughed back at him over Jon’s shoulder. She was jubilantly, vibrantly alive and so happy. So very happy.
Jon smiled at both of them. “I guess we’ll start at chapter one of the manual: ‘Cleansing the Patient Thoroughly.’”
Andrew Ramsey was born at 3:42 A.M. during the worst blizzard to hit the state of New York in fifty years. Her son had his father’s golden hair and her brown eyes, and when Jon put him in her arms she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt the meaning of happiness. Happiness was Andrew.
“He smells so sweet. What did you powder him with?” Her lips brushed the top of the baby’s head. His skin was soft as slipper satin against her lips. She had always thought the comparison trite, but nothing came closer to the glowing freshness.
“Your talcum.” Gunner smiled down at her with weary satisfaction. “The rest is strictly improvised, diapers from pillowcases, swaddling blanket from sheets. I haven’t decided what to do about a cradle yet. I’ll set up a nursery in the guest room next door so I can watch over him and let you get the rest you need.”
“Perhaps we can pick up a cradle when we take him to the hospital for a checkup.” She was still looking down at Andrew and didn’t see the glance the two men exchanged. “And we’ll definitely need some disposable diapers.”
“I’ll put them first on the list,” Gunner said lightly.
“Not quite,” Jon said. “Bottles and formula should take precedence, I think. Why don’t you see what you can rustle up from the cellar in the way of an adequate-size bottle and rubber to fashion a nipple?”
“Why should he do that?” Elizabeth drew the baby closer. “I’m going to breast-feed him. I’ve never intended doing anything else. Most of the books I’ve read say it’s better psycho logically for a child to be breast-fed in infancy.”
Something flickered in Jon’s eyes. “I hear sometimes it can be … inconvenient.”
“Nonsense, I’m going to breast-feed him,” she said firmly.
“So it appears.” Jon’s expression was totally shuttered as he gazed down at her. Then he smiled. “I guess you’re not going to need us for that little operation.”
“I can handle it myself.” Elizabeth felt as if she could handle the sun, the moon, and the entire NASA space program at the moment. “You go see what you can do about Andrew’s cradle.”
Jon shot an amused sideways glance at Gunner. “Dismissed?”
Gunner nodded mournfully. “Cast aside the moment a new man appears on the scene. How fickle can you get?”
Elizabeth lifted her eyes from the “new man” and slowly shook her head. A smile so loving it was blindingly radiant touched her lips. “Oh, no. Don’t think you two will ever get away from me. After what we’ve gone through together you’re both mine now. My family.” Her gaze returned to her son as he lay in the bend of her arm. “Andrew’s family. You’re officially adopted.”
“Then I guess we’d better see about that cradle.” Jon’s voice was husky. “Gome on, Gunner. You’re the expert on improvisation.”
Elizabeth didn’t look up when they left the room.
The two men were silent as they walked slowly down the stairs. It wasn’t until they reached the foyer that Gunner said softly, “I feel as if I’ve just been knighted. It was kind of … wonderful.”
Jon nodded. “Though I didn’t expect her to want to breast-feed Andrew. I suppose I should have realized she’d react that way. It’s going to cause problems.”
Gunner smiled. “Do you care?”
Not if it makes her happy. Not if it makes her smile as she had just before they left the room. “No, it doesn’t matter. I’ll deal with it later.”
That problem would undoubtedly be minor in comparison to the others looming on the horizon. His instincts weren’t as finely tuned as Gunner’s, but he had a hunch their peaceful hiatus was almost at an end.
“DID YOU HAVE A NICE WALK?” GUNNER PLACED the baby carefully in Elizabeth’s arms, then smiled as he looked up and saw her wind-flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. “Yes, I can see you did.”
“It was fine. Was Andrew all right?”
“A perfect gentleman. I know this will be a terrible blow to your maternal ego, but we got along splendidly without you for the past hour. Andrew and I understand each other.”
“That’s because you both have the mind of a child,” Jon drawled. “Direct, easily amused, and stubborn as hell.”
“Ouch.” Gunner made a face. “I won’t stand here and be maligned. I’m going back to the library and finish the book I started reading to Andrew.”
“What were you reading? The Little Engine That Could?” Elizabeth asked with a grin. “I hate to disillusion you, but I don’t think he’s ready for such weighty literature yet. After all, he’s only three weeks old.”
Gunner shook his head. “Certainly not. I wouldn’t think of insulting him with that pap. We’re perusing Einstein’s Theory of Relativity at the moment.” He turned away and started down the hall. “Tomorrow we may start studying philosophy. Socrates might intrigue …” His words trailed off as he disappeared into the library.
Elizabeth stared after him in bemusement. “Do you suppose he’s really reading Einstein’s theories to Andrew?”
“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Jon said with a smile. “Gunner is capable of anything.”
“But he’s wonderful with Andrew.” She glanced down at her son, and her smile was replaced by a frown of distress. “He’s not eating properly. I know Andrew should be eating more than he does. The first two weeks after his birth he was absolutely ravenous, but this last week he’s skipped his night feeding entirely and doesn’t seem to be interested in the afternoon feeding either. I think he’s sick.”
“He couldn’t be ill. He’s growing by leaps and bounds,” Jon said with comforting certainty. “There’s no way you can say he’s wasting away.”
“No.” Andrew was enchantingly plump and appeared to be growing in strength with every passing day. That was why his sudden aversion to nourishment was so puzzling… and frightening. “What if he stops eating entirely? What if—” She stopped. “We must get him to a doc tor.”
“You know we can’t do that. The roads are still closed due to the last storm.” Jon’s voice was soothing. “And I’m sure there’s nothing seriously wrong with the child. Have you thought about the possibility of an allergy? I’ve heard of rare cases in which a baby is allergic to his mother’s milk. You might consider trying one of the formulas listed in the midwife manual.”
“I guess I’ll have to,” she said dejectedly. “At this rate, I won’t have any milk to give him anyway. We’ve got to get out of here. It’s not safe for Andrew, for us, to be cut off without any way to communicate with the outside world. Is Gunner still working on the radio?”
“He thinks it needs a part.”
“And he can’t get a part until the roads are clear. It’s a vicious circle.”
“Vicious is a hard word,” Jon said gently. “And I was under the impression you’ve been quite content these last few weeks.”
She had been marvelously content. Her recovery from childbirth was unusually speedy and she had been up and around within three days. Andrew was a wondrous spring of delight and she had been so absorbed in her son that all her aches and pains had faded into the background. Jon had almost had to pry her forcibly away from Andrew so she could rest every afternoon.
Jon. She felt a warm glow spread through her as she looked at him. No one could have been kinder, or gender, or more understanding. She was conscious that he had subdued any hint of his desire for her. He seemed to sense she needed this time to become acquainted with her son and accustom herself to her new role. He had told her he wasn’t a patient man, but he had been more than patient with her.
“I’ve been very happy,” she said softly. “An drew’s wonderful and you and Gunner have been so kind. It’s been like being enclosed in a sparkling bubble that lets in all the beautiful colors but filters out everything worrisome and ugly. I’ve been floating up and up, higher every day.”
“I’d like to keep you in that bubble.” There was a sadness in Jon’s eyes that puzzled her. “Unfortunately, the chance of that occurring doesn’t look very promising.”
Bardot. The thought of the government man rudely intruded into her beautiful bubble of security. She hadn’t thought of him since An drew arrived. She had shut him out with the other disturbing influences she knew she eventually would have to face. But she couldn’t be bothered about Bardot yet, not when she had the problem of Andrew’s lack of appetite to worry about. “Why did you have to pick a place in the middle of nowhere? Andrew—”
“Andrew is a fine, healthy boy, and he’s going to stay that way. Now put him back to bed, and let him take his nap.”
“All right. Just as soon as he’s had his bath. Will you be coming up?”
“I’ll have to pass. There’s something else I have to do.”
She tried to mask the twinge of disappointment she felt at the tiny rejection. She had grown accustomed to having Jon around constantly, and she knew he enjoyed Andrew’s bath time as much as she did. She forced her self to smile. “Whatever you say, but Andrew will be most insulted at the slight.”
“I’ll make it up to him.”
He watched until she reached the top of the stairs, and then turned on his heel and walked swiftly toward the library.
Andrew was sound asleep in her arms by the time Elizabeth reached the nursery. Lord, he was beautiful. She stood looking at him in blissful admiration for a few moments after she had put him in the heavily padded drawer that served as his makeshift crib. She was so lucky to have him. She gently caressed his soft cheek with her finger. She couldn’t bear to wake him, the bath could wait. Perhaps Jon would be free later to enjoy it with her.
“Get me Barnett.” Jon’s voice was savage as he strode into the library. “We’re going to get out of here. I’ll be damned if I’ll stay here and lie to her any longer. I feel worse than a Judas.”
Gunner looked up from the book he was reading and rose to his feet. He moved quickly toward the radio on the long, modern table against the wall. “I was wondering when you were going to break. I’ll be glad to have it finished, too, but it may take a few days. Ben Raschid insists on his man, Clancy Donahue, handling the security arrangements. It’s going to be a very delicate transaction moving Elizabeth and Andrew from U.S. soil without a ripple of suspicion. Barnett tried to convince him it would be no problem for us, but the sheik is a very determined man.”
“That’s why he was chosen.” Jon should have expected this holdup, but it was annoying nevertheless. He wanted it over. His temperament wasn’t suited to deceit, particularly when that deceit involved Elizabeth. “Dona hue better be damn quick or I’ll give orders for us to handle the transfer ourselves.”
Gunner pursed his lips in a soundless whistle. He had been aware of Jon’s growing frustration, but he hadn’t thought it had reached such an explosive level. “Do you think she’s ready to hear it?”
“No.” Jon’s lips tightened. “But we’re going to tell her anyway. She may never be ready to accept the truth, but we’ve got to try. It’s better than continuing to manipulate her.”
“All right, it’s your decision.” Gunner turned and clicked on the radio. “And I’m glad as hell I didn’t have to make it.”
The two men were in the middle of transmitting a message on the radio, when Elizabeth walked into the library.
“Oh, you managed to fix it,” she said eagerly as she came toward them. A relieved smile lit her face. “That’s wonderful. Now you can call a doctor and—”
“Sign off, Gunner.” Jon’s words cut through her sentence with the sharpness of a razor. “And then you’d better leave us alone.”
“Great idea.” Gunner turned back and spoke into the receiver. “We’ll get back to you later, Barnett.” He clicked off the unit, pushed back his chair, and stood up. “I’il go up and keep an eye on Andrew.”
“He’s sleeping,” Elizabeth said, her gaze on Jon’s face. His expression was more grim than she’d ever seen it. Her smile vanished. “What’s wrong? What’s happened, Jon?”
“Nothing has happened. Everything is exactly the same. It’s just that the situation isn’t what you thought it was.”
Gunner paused beside her, his gaze warmly sympathetic. He murmured in an undertone, “Don’t be too hard on him. He hated like hell to handle things this way. He didn’t see any other solution.” The door closed behind him.
“I don’t understand,” Elizabeth said haltingly. She tried to laugh. “I wish you’d explain, you’re frightening me.”
“I don’t mean to frighten you. Damn, I hope you won’t be frightened.”
“Well, you’re not succeeding. You’re scaring the daylights out of me. Now tell me. Is it something you heard on the radio?”
He was silent for a moment. “The radio was never out of order,” he finally said quietly. “The roads weren’t closed more than a few hours during the entire time we’ve been here. There’s nothing wrong with Andrew. His appetite is flourishing, according to Gunner.”
“According to Gunner,” she repeated dazedly. She was trying to comprehend something, anything, and clutched desperately at the last fact he had thrown out at her.
“Gunner’s taken over Andrew’s night and afternoon feedings. He’s been bottle-feeding him before bringing him to you for the last week. I decided it was necessary for both your sakes that he be gradually switched to bottled formula.”
“You decided.” She stared at him in disbelief. “What right have you to make decisions concerning my son?” A smoldering anger began to simmer inside her. “Dammit, what right?”
“I took the right.”
“I can’t believe it. I can’t believe any of this. You lied to me.”
“Yes.”
She shook her head in confusion. “From the beginning, everything has been a lie.”
A flicker of pain crossed his face. “Not everything. I love you. I’ll do everything in my power to watch over you and protect you. I wasn’t lying about that.”
“How can I believe you? How can I believe anything you do or say? You not only lied to me, you robbed me of something very important. You knew how I felt about breast-feeding Andrew. And that’s the craziest thing of all. What possible reason could you have for doing that?”
“There may be periods when you and An drew will have to be separated to ensure your safety. It wasn’t practical for you to continue to breast-feed. I gave you as long as I could.”
“Gave me?” Her eyes were blazing. “How tolerant! I’ve never met anyone so arrogant in my life. No one gives me permission to care for my son. I’ll do as I see fit.” Her hands clenched into fists at her sid
es. “And now I’m wondering how many more lies you’ve told me. I’m wondering about the charming Mr. Bardot. Was he the real thing or another lie to panic me into running into your arms?”’ She laughed harshly. “And I did run into your arms, didn’t I? I was so grateful for your kind ness. So damn grateful.”
“Bardot is the genuine article. I wish to hell he wasn’t. He’s been causing us a great many problems. I would have waited until the child was born before I approached you, if he hadn’t been on the scene.” Jon’s lips twisted. “As long as the birth was simple and uncomplicated, we could risk it. We didn’t want to isolate you like this.”
“Then why did you? Why did you force me to have my child here instead of in a hospital? Why did you make me a prisoner? Why did you lie and cheat?”
He flinched. “Because you would have been too vulnerable, dammit. Bardot isn’t fool enough to neglect having the hospitals watched.” He paused. “And if there had been complications, the hospital might have run tests on Andrew. We couldn’t permit that to happen. They might have discovered there were certain … differences.”
She turned pale with fear. “What do you mean? There’s nothing wrong with Andrew. He’s healthy, you said so yourself.”
“No, nothing’s wrong. He’s far healthier than you could possibly realize. That wasn’t the difference I was referring to. There are bound to be certain anomalies in his brain waves considering that Mark was his father.”
“Brain waves. Why should the fact Mark was his father have anything to do—” She broke off. “Mark didn’t have a brain tumor or any thing, did he?”
“No, but he wasn’t like other men.” Jon’s voice was very gentle. “He had an expanded mental capacity, Beth. If he had lived another ten years he would have far surpassed Einstein in intelligence. Given another twenty years there would have been no limit, no comparison to any intelligence known.”
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