Twenty-eight

 

Jack hung up the phone again. NOPD didn’t want him to call them. They would call him. Unless he had a matter to discuss other than Errol Petrie’s murder, which was under investigation, or the whereabouts of Celina Payne, whom they could not as yet consider missing.

“Still no satisfaction,” Cyrus said. “Why does someone have to die before they do anything?”

“Don’t,” Jack told him. “They said they can’t put out a bulletin on Celina yet.” He was afraid to leave in case she showed up, and afraid not to leave in case she didn’t.

Dwayne shook his head repeatedly from side to side. “We have a right to ask for action.”

“They say they’re following leads on Errol, but they don’t have any comments at this time.”

“If they won’t look for Celina, we’re going to have to try ourselves. Where would we start?” Dwayne hitched back a drape and looked out of the window.

Jack pulled him away. “How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?”

“More, apparently,” Dwayne said. He set to work with his teeth on his fingernails. The latter were already nonexistent. “I can’t stay here doing nothing much longer.”

“I don’t want you on the streets alone,” Jack told him. Dwayne raised one eyebrow. “Why, Jack, I didn’t know you cared.”

“Don’t mess around,” Jack said. If his fears were realized, Win had at least one renegade soldier—unless Win himself had decided to teach “the snot-nosed kid” a lesson. “Antoine spoke to you, Dwayne, and to Celina. I think that’s a problem. Until I’m sure it isn’t, we analyze every step before it’s taken. Don’t ask me to elaborate, because I can’t yet.”

Cyrus clapped Dwayne’s shoulder. “We’ve got enough to worry about. Listen to Jack. He knows what he’s sayin’.”

“You two stay here,” Jack told them. “I want to run over to my place and check on Amelia and Tilly. If Celina doesn’t show up—and we don’t hear anything by the time I get back, we’ll have to figure out how to start searchin’ for her.”

Dwayne turned his back, but he nodded.

“Call if you do hear something,” Jack said to Cyrus. “Leave a message with Tilly if I haven’t got there yet.”

With a silent prayer that there would be a message by the time he got home, a message saying Celina was fine, he went outside and down the steps.

At the bottom of the steps he stopped. To his right, a figure crawled among the shrubs. “Hey, podner,” he said, preferring not to go too near, “if you’re looking for a bed, there’s a shelter. You want me to make a call?” They’d pick the poor devil up and take him wherever was most appropriate—or expedient.

He made to run back up and use the phone, but a whimper stopped him.

He breathed in, then couldn’t exhale. In one swoop, he dragged his “poor devil” from the shrubs and stood her upright. “Celina! My God, Celina. Oh, Celina. Oh, thank God.”

A black fabric bag covered her head and was fastened about her neck with string. He fumbled to get the string untied, but his fingers wouldn’t move fast enough.

She butted him with a shoulder, made another sound, and turned away.

He hadn’t even registered that her hands were tied behind her back. The knots were simple but efficient and he quickly had them untied. Her arms didn’t immediately move, and when he brought them forward, she moaned.

Placing her hands under his shirt, against his skin, he guided her head onto his shoulder, worked the small knots in the string, then removed the hood. Underneath, a gag explained why she’d been unable to speak. He removed it quickly and disciplined himself not to hug her. Instead, he took her hands between his and peered at them, at deep grooves where the rope had been. He rubbed her wrists gently, grimaced at her shuddering gasps. As the circulation returned, there would be pain.

“Can you talk?” he asked.

“Yes. My arms hurt. And my hands.”

“Who did this to you?”

“If I could tell you, I don’t suppose I’d be here, would I?”

She sounded hoarse but very lucid. “You don’t know who it was? Strangers? Can you describe them? The police are going to need something to go on.”

“No police.”

She wasn’t lucid. “We’ll talk about that. Let’s get you upstairs. Dwayne and Cyrus are there. They’re as crazed as I’ve been.”

Celina resisted his attempt to shift her. “I said no police,” she told him. “Promise me now.”

“You aren’t—”

“Jack! I’m not a lot of things at the moment. But I’m scared. I am so scared I wish I could hide anywhere that would feel safe. There isn’t anywhere safe. They can get me if they want to, I know that now. You must promise not to call the police.”

“Chère, you know we have to report this.”

“You aren’t thinking.” She began to rub her own hands and wrists. “This wasn’t random. This was a setup. I left your place, walked right into a diversion, and got pushed into a van waiting in an alley.”

He touched her hair. This had to be a warning aimed at him. Win had all but promised it could happen. But he’d also more or less promised it wouldn’t. What had changed his mind? Sonny Clete could have decided to preempt Win’s next move and turn rogue.

“Jack.” Wincing, Celina settled a hand on each side of his face. “You aren’t hearing me. They must have been watching your place. They knew I was there and saw me leave. And they aren’t novices at picking people off. Next time it’ll be a different setup. I don’t want there to be a next time.”

“And you think not tellin’ the cops is the way to avoid a next time?”

“I think those people are beyond the law. What made them do that to me didn’t have anything to do with the world I know. I’m not sure...Your father was killed by gangsters. Isn’t that what I was told? You must know about that kind of people.”

What had made him think it would be easy to make sure she never made connections between him and his father’s world? “My parents died when I was a kid. I wasn’t involved in the way my father made his money.” Stopping her from pursuing this track was imperative.

“Could there be a reason for someone like those people—the people your father knew—could there be a reason for them to be afraid of you?”

No instant answer tripped to Jack’s lips. He detested where this was going, but she wasn’t likely to stop. “Do you know what you’re asking? I don’t think I do.”

She dropped her hands to his shoulders. In a very small voice she said, “Those men sent you a message.”

The hair on the back of his neck prickled. He would wait, let her make all the steps on her own now.

“I don’t want Dwayne or Cyrus to know what I’m going to tell you. I don’t want them more involved than they already are. Jack, if you do anything those men don’t like—anything that will cause them trouble—they will kill me.” Her fingertips dug into his muscle. “And they’ll kill Amelia.”

The night was utterly still.

“Amelia?” No one would touch his little girl, dammit.

Sonny Clete believed you, Jack. Sonny had bought the story that Win was showing favoritism to Jack, and Sonny took that to mean he could be squeezed out as heir apparent to the boss if he didn’t protect himself. What Jack hadn’t foreseen was that Sonny would move against him rather than against Win. That would have to be changed.

“Jack?”

“Don’t worry. I know how to keep you and Amelia safe.” He’d better not make any mistakes after this.

“We’ll make sure we all stay safe,” she told him. “I want to help. Only cowards use women and children to get what they want.”

“You are really something, Miss Louisiana. Cool, no matter what.”

“I’m not always cool. And I’ve never been so terrified. But now I’m mad, Jack, and I’ve never been so mad. Who are these people who think laws aren’t made for them? I’m going after them. You watch me. I’m going to hunt them down and make sure there isn’t a person in the world who doesn’t know their faces. I’ll figure out how they can be brought to justice without putting anyone in danger. They aren’t going to be able to find a place to hide, never. That’s when they get out of jail. They do awful things in jail to men who attack women. I hope they take them apart in there. I—”

“Celina, chère—”

“I’m going to launch a campaign to clean up crime in this city. It’s time New Orleans grew up. Enough is enough. We shouldn’t want to be known as a dangerous place to be. We—”

He kissed her very carefully but very determinedly, and when he paused for breath and looked into her glittering eyes, he saw the tears that all the words had held back. “Cry, love. We’ll deal with those turkeys together. But it isn’t going to happen overnight. And you aren’t going to be running around on your own in the near future. Please let me be in the driver’s seat for a while, okay?”

She nodded yes.

His heart pounded. Amelia would have to be watched whenever she left the house. And Celina. He said, “Cyrus and Dwayne are out of their minds, too.”

“I’m not out of my mind.”

“I didn’t say you were,” he told her hastily. “I meant we’re all pushed to the max and this has been a terrible night. The police wouldn’t mount an active search because you hadn’t been gone long enough.”

She pounded a fist on his chest. “I’m going after them too. I’m going to organize a citywide committee to look into the NOPD. There are things going on here that could bear a close examination. And I’m the woman to do it because I’m mad, Jack. Those hoods think they’ve frightened me into submission, but they’re wrong. I’m coming out fighting. Just as soon as I figure out how.”

He smothered an irrational desire to laugh. She was incredible. Anger obviously worked very well to carry her through difficult—no, impossible times.

“Let’s go up and put your brother and Dwayne out of their misery.”

With his arm around her waist, they climbed upward more rapidly than he would have expected. He rested his hand on the side of her belly and spread his fingers. Junior was putting on weight. “This guy is growing,” he said. “I’d better get a doctor over to take a look at you and make sure everything’s okay.”

“It is okay. I’ve got an appointment tomorrow, and I’ll keep it.”

“We’re going to a wedding on Friday.” Even as he said it, he decided the wedding would come to them in Chartres Street. She halted and looked up at him. “Just like that?”

“I thought it was a cute delivery.”

“Oh, yes. Cute. We’re going to a wedding on Friday. How do you figure that’ll be the date?”

“I’ve worked it out, and that’s when it’ll be.” He would do anything to take her mind off the terror she’d been through. “You just leave things to me.”

He opened the door and took her inside.

Dwayne and Cyrus came into the hallway and Dwayne let out a whoop. He rushed at Celina, but skidded to a halt just short of grabbing her. He gaped at her. “What’s happened? What have they done to you? Who did it?”

“Kidnapped,” Celina said, her voice still hoarse. “Tied up. Left in the dark with a bag over my head and made to think I was on top of a stool, when I was really standing on a piece of wood on the ground. Noose around my neck. I thought it was tied to a rafter, when it wasn’t.  I was afraid to move because I expected to fall and hang. Threatened… manhandled. Don’t ask. It was horrible, but now I’m so angry I intend to use their disgusting behavior to put them away forever.”

“They don’t put people away forever,” Cyrus said.

His sister responded, “I don’t want to listen to reason, so don’t bother.”

“We’ll see they go somewhere forever, sweetcakes,” Dwayne said, his eyes hard. “I’ve got friends—large, dangerous friends. They’d love a righteous excuse to use force.”

“Hey,” Jack said. “The reprisals will have to wait. I’ve got to take care of Celina.”

“Finish,” Dwayne said. “What else?”

“Threatened,” Celina went on. “Driven around on my face in a van. And then thrown down under the bushes in the courtyard with a gag on so 1 couldn’t even call for help.”

“I’ll kill them,” Dwayne said. “Slowly.”

“They must be brought to justice,” Cyrus said. He pushed Dwayne aside and embraced Celina. “Sorry, kid. Not adequate, I know, but I’ve been scared out of my wits. We all have. You’ve got to do exactly what Jack says. At least until we can feel you’re safe again.”

“She’s safe now,” Jack said, wishing he felt as sure as he sounded. “Until we get satisfaction about Errol—and make sure whoever did this to her is behind bars—Celina isn’t going to be out of my sight.”

“That’s a fine idea,” Cyrus said, “but I hardly think it’ll be easy to pull off. After all—”

“Yes, it will,” Jack said, silencing him. “We’re getting married on Friday. Until then Celina will be with us at my place. And after that she’ll be with us at my place. When she isn’t with me somewhere else.”

The expressions on the other men’s faces would have made him laugh if he had it in him. “Glad you’re both so excited for us.”

“Friday?” Dwayne said. “As in this Friday?”

“This coming Friday.”

Cyrus cleared his throat and didn’t say a word.

“Later we’ll ask you to bless the marriage,” Jack said, proud that he could still think clearly enough to cover all bases. “But there isn’t time to get everything done that needs to be done for a church wedding by the end of the week, and we don’t want to wait—for obvious reasons.”

Cyrus nodded. “I’ll be there.” He stroked Celina’s hair and Jack marveled again that such unlikable people as Bitsy and Neville Payne had raised two great children.

“I need to check on Amelia.” He felt an urgent need to see that she was safe. “I’m going to take Celina with me, but I’d like to ask you to stay with Cyrus, Dwayne. Someone needs to be here all the time in case the police decide to make a stab at solving the case. Any problems with that?”

He expected a smart comeback, but Dwayne said, “Whatever you think. I’ll call Jean-Claude. In fact, I’ll call him right now and ask him to come and take you two home.”

“That’s not—”

Dwayne waved Celina to silence and placed the call. “He’ll be right over,” he said when he’d hung up. “Then he’ll go back and close.”

Celina went to gather some clothes.

Only minutes passed before they heard the roar of Jean-Claude’s pride and joy, his vintage red Morgan, right-hand drive and complete with leather straps around the hood—or bonnet, as Jean-Claude insisted it be called.

With Celina wedged in the middle, and her small bag squashed behind the seat, Jean-Claude drove to Jack’s place. A quiet, thoughtful man, the only comment he made was, “This is real bad stuff, isn’t it?”

Jack said, “Yes. It’ll pass—soon, I hope—but we’ve got to do what the police won’t. We’ve got to look out for Dwayne and Celina. Don’t ask me to go into the whole thing now. I don’t want Dwayne anywhere he could be isolated and picked off, okay.”

“You got it,” Jean-Claude said, drawing up in front of the Chartres Street property. “Be in touch, huh?”

Jack assured him he would, and Jean-Claude drove away.

Looking around, searching shadows, and staring at faces under the streetlights, Jack rang the bell on his own door. He and Tilly had an agreement that when she and Amelia were at home but Jack was out, the heavy old bolt would be used.

Soon there were footsteps on the stairs inside and Tilly called out, “Who is it?”

“A mannerless ghost,” Jack said, and the bolt slid back.

When she opened the door, Tilly said, “I’ve been insane with worry about you two,” and Jack didn’t miss that she’d included Celina in her concern.

“You get in here,” she said. “Upstairs with both of you. You look terrible, Miss Payne. You’d better have a shower and go to bed. Maybe some warm bread pudding and cream. Lots of butter and cream are good for women in the family way. Build yourself up, and the baby.

Poor—” She paused, and gulped.

Jack and Celina looked at each other.

“I’m sorry,” Tilly said, sounding miserable. “I can’t think what came over me. Carried away, I guess.”

“I thought maybe it wasn’t so obvious,” Celina said.

“I knew when I first met you,” Tilly said. “I’ve always been good at noticing those things, and it isn’t what you think so much as what I see in the face, in the eyes. I thought that was it, and then I took a look elsewhere and knew I was right. But I didn’t mean to...I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be,” Jack said. “We certainly aren’t. Where’s Amelia?”

Tilly looked bemused. “In bed. Where else would she be at this hour?”

Avoiding Celina’s eyes, he said, “She has been known not to stay there.”

“I just checked,” Tilly said. “Fast asleep with F.P.”

“Her frog,” Jack said, unsure if Celina remembered. He couldn’t keep the fear at bay, but he was going to have to try. “There’s going to be a wedding on Friday, Tilly. Think you might like to come?”

Tilly sniffed. “I’ll think about it.”

“You do that.” Jack leaned down until she looked at him. “I’d be very sad if you weren’t there.”

“In that case I’ll come,” she said.

“Oh, good,” Jack told her. “Do you suppose we should get Celina off the street and inside for all that good, baby-buildin’ stuff? She’s had a horrible time, Tilly.”

Flustered, Tilly turned and rushed upstairs while Jack secured the door and followed with an arm around Celina again. “I’m going to want more details,” he told her very quietly. “There may be things that mean nothing to you but they could give a hint of something to me. We’re going to need all the help we can get to make sure we put an end to this.” And he would surely be paying Win another visit real soon.

“I don’t want to talk about— Some of it wasn’t important.”

His gut sucked in. In other words, “manhandle” had been code for more intrusive liberties. “We’ve got lots of time. Forget it for now. Are you sure we shouldn’t get a doctor over here to look at you?”

“Sure. Really. I’m jelly between my ears, but I’m strong and I don’t feel there’s any reason to overreact. But we’re going to get them, Jack. And we’ve got to start right away if were going to find ...” Her voice faded away.

He looked at her curiously. “Find?”

She swallowed and made a great deal of running her fingers through her hair. “I want to find them,” she said, but it sounded lame.

Now wasn’t the appropriate moment to push her on anything. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

He left the two women and tried not to dash to Amelia’s room. Black curls showed between the pink pillow and pink sheet. Jack tiptoed around the bed until he could see her face by the glow from the night light. Her thick lashes moved in sleep. Frog Prince’s head rested beside hers on the pillow.

Relief shouldn’t be so tainted by dread. Celina couldn’t possibly guess how far he’d go to make sure the police weren’t involved now. This would be between himself and Win—as long as Win still held the real power.

Leaving the room as quietly as he’d come, Jack closed the door and returned to Celina’s side. He felt the intensity of her gaze. She squeezed his forearm and he hoped his smile was careless enough.

“I told you Amelia was asleep,” Tilly said, coming out of the kitchen with a steaming mug. “Herbal tea. Drink it down, it’ll relax you.”

Jack took the mug for Celina and carried it directly to his bedroom. When he got inside and looked back, Celina still stood where she was, at the top of the stairs, with Tilly, who actually smiled benevolently.

He beckoned to Celina, who came slowly toward him, then let him sit her on the couch in his room to drink the tea. Leaving the door open was no accident. He did not want her to feel threatened, and he also wanted her to eat whatever nasty-sounding concoction Tilly intended to offer.

That offering wasn’t long in coming. Bustling about, Tilly pulled forward a small table and set a tray on top. A bowl of bread pudding with melted butter and cream floating on top, and scattered with brown sugar, was flanked by another mug, this one filled with steaming milk.

“Thank you,” Celina said, and actually looked at the food with anticipation. “I’m really hungry.”

“Of course you are. That baby’s taking everything, you mark my words.” She beamed at Jack with what he realized was something close to grandmotherly pride. “And we want a healthy baby and mother, don’t we, Mr. Charbonnet?”

He cleared his throat and said, “We certainly do. Thank you, Tilly.”

“Don’t you worry about a thing,” she said, her hands folded on her middle. “And I suggest you lock this door so our young lady doesn’t decide to pay a visit. If she needs anything, I’ll take care of it. You both need some time alone, and some sleep. If you want me, call on my line, Mr. Charbonnet.”

With another proprietary smile at Celina, she left.

Jack couldn’t think of anything sensible to say.

“Not what you expected, hmm?” Celina said, spooning down the food in her bowl with evident relish. “She thinks this is your baby.”

He glanced away. “Good. That’s what we want people to think.” He didn’t say that with every moment he spent with Celina, he wished even more that the baby was his. “Tilly’s right. You need to sleep. I should get some paperwork done. Do you need anything before I go?”

She set down her spoon and picked up the hot milk. “Could you lock the door, please? I’d like to feel safe.”

He frowned. “You want me to lock you in? I’m not sure you’ll like that.”

“I want you to lock us in. Would you mind, Jack? I’d really appreciate knowing you’re here with me tonight.”

“Celina—”

“No, don’t apologize. I’m the one who is sorry. You’re a busy man and I shouldn’t take up any more of your time.” She set down the milk and got up. “I’ve turned your life upside down. I have no right to ask for even more consideration.”

He ran the tips of his fingers lightly down her arm. “Every day I get a stronger picture of just how brave you are. And how brave you’ve been. We’re in trouble. I’m not going to lie to you about that. But you make it easier because you’re strong.” He locked the door and returned to move aside the table she’d used. “There’s nothing I have to do that can’t wait for tomorrow. I wanted to stay, but Ι didn’t want to crowd you.”

Her smile turned down and for an instant he thought she would cry, but she blinked back the tears. “Thank you. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m so scared, I have to block it all out or I’d be paralyzed, but you make me feel safe, Jack. I’ve dragged you into something that’s not your responsibility, but you just keep on backing me.”

“That’s not a chore, chère.” There were feelings that should be put into words, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to say them yet. He might never be ready. “We got here together because I judged you, and I judged you wrong. But for once, a mistake paid off.”

“Which mistake?” She eyed him anxiously.

“Thinking that you were a conniving, evil, manipulative little witch who was out to capitalize on my dead friend’s tragedy to further your own ends. And that you were responsible for driving him over the edge and making him fall off the wagon. Have I missed anything?”

She gasped and wrinkled her nose. “That’s horrible.”

“It was horrible. Past tense. I’d really like it if you’d lie down.”

“Would it be okay if Ι take a shower”

From the look of her, she might pass out at any moment.

“If you’re sure you’re okay to do that. But don’t lock the door in there, okay?”

She turned an interesting shade of pink, but said, “Okay.”

Bathrooms were really personal.

In the movies they often showed characters poking around in bathrooms, looking for...usually they didn’t know what they were looking for, except something they had no right to find.

Narcotics?

Birth control pills.

Celina stood under beating hot water in Jack’s shower and grinned. She grinned? She found the thought of birth control pills funny? Either she was approaching hysteria, or her sense of humor had taken a sick twist.

She liked being in Jack’s shower. It felt intimate, a little forbidden. And the smells were so good, his smells. Soap that was very simple, that came in a large slab and reminded her of walking in a forest—and of him, her bare feet where his stood, her face lifted to the water in exactly the place where he lifted his. Silliness, all of it. Somehow she’d managed to turn a convenience into a romance. But she liked the way this silliness felt.

Looking down, she smoothed her soapy tummy. How could she have thought anyone was likely to be fooled for much longer? How many people must already be whispering, “Have you seen Celina Payne lately? No? Pregnant, darlin’. Ι expect we’ll be hearin’ about the weddin’ any day, don’t you?”

If Jack had his way, they’d be hearing about the wedding any day now.

That man who put his hands on her must have been too...She bowed her head and let the water pound on the back of her neck. It could be that the other man, the one who had asked the questions, had realized she was pregnant and that’s why they hadn’t killed her. He had seemed more human than his disgusting companion.

Neither of them was human. She was alive because, unlike Antoine, there were too many people who would raise the alarm if she disappeared—or she’d been taken in the first place only because she’d been elected to warn Jack for some reason.

No relationship could survive dishonesty.

She hadn’t been dishonest, wasn’t dishonest. Telling Jack or anyone else about Antoine and Rose hadn’t been her choice to make.

Had it?

She turned the water off hard and clung to the faucet. Her head felt muzzy. Several deep breaths didn’t make her feel better. Bad judgment couldn’t be wished away, and when it came to Antoine, it had been a bad call not to at least ask the advice of someone she believed in. Cyrus. Or Dwayne.

Her eyes ached.

She should have asked Jack. She must ask him now. The longer she delayed, the bigger the wedge between them was likely to be in the end.

Tonight was as good a time as any. The towel she’d hung over the shower enclosure slid down the glass. She didn’t catch it before one end was soaked.

“It’s been that kind of day and that kind of night,” she said to herself, and climbed out to walk carefully across the dark tiles to get another towel.

Heaviness in her legs made her weak. She reached the sinks and braced herself on the counter.

The baby. Could something be wrong with the baby?

Stop. Be quiet. Think. It’s me, not the baby. I’m sick of thinking. And sick of trying to decide what’s best. And I’m tired, darn it, just so tired.

She sat sideways on the lid of the toilet, folded her arms on the counter, and rested her forehead on top. So very, very tired.

Water from the shower turned cold on her skin and evaporated, but sweat broke out along her hairline. All she needed to do was dry off and make it to the bed.

Jack would be there.

This was all so strange. Time seemed suspended. Her tummy fluttered inside. Like a little bird flapping fragile wings in there. She loved bread pudding, but it had probably been too heavy after not eating for so long—and suffering a shock that might have thrown her blood sugar into a spin.

Her eyelids didn’t want to open.

Little bird flitting in there.

“Celina?” Jack was calling her.

Bird? She sat up and stared at her belly again, and spread her fingers wide—and concentrated.

Wasn’t it too early?

The baby moved! Tears welled in Celina’s eyes, and her throat tightened. Faint, and unlike anything she’d ever known before, a tiny being moved inside her.

Jack tapped on the door and she looked up. The door opened a fraction and he said, “Celina? Are you all right?”

She remembered she was naked and took a towel from a pile on a hamper beside the toilet. “I’m okay,” she said. “Jack!”

He slammed the door wide open. “What is it? You need help?” Dressed only in his white shorts, he was a long, leanly muscular expanse of male.

Celina got to her feet and wrapped the towel around her.

“The baby’s moving, Jack. I thought it was too early, but it did. Then it did it again—twice. Two times.”

“You scared me. You’ve been in here so long.”

“The baby moved.”

“He did, huh? That must be really somethin’ to feel. Did it hurt or something? You should sit down.”

She began to laugh.

“What?”

Celina couldn’t get a word out without laughing harder.

“You’re hysterical,” he said. “Take some deep breaths.”

She held her breath, choked, coughed, and laughed some

more.

“Celina?”

“Yes.” More laughter. She’d lost control.

He smiled, but with question in that smile. “Can you get it together enough to tell me what’s so funny?”

“I...I’m amazed. And happy. I can’t stop laughing, but I want to cry.”

Jack looked uncertain. “I guess it’s an emotional thing, feeling a baby move for the first time.” His hand on her back sobered her instantly, and she looked up at him.

“Come on,” he said quietly. “I’m taking you to bed and you’re going to sleep as long as you can—preferably around the clock.”

“It’s a miracle, isn’t it?” she asked him. “From something so awful, something wonderful happens, and you can’t blame that wonderful thing for the way...I mean I love this baby. I love her so much, it makes me feel filled up and overflowing. Tears and laughter. All muddled up. I am happy. I am so happy and I thank God for her.”

She felt tears on her cheeks but didn’t recall crying them. When Jack held out his hands to her, she let him ease her gently against him.

His breath moved the top of her hair. “A man never gets to feel what you’re feeling now,” he said. “Not in anything like the same way. But he has his own feelings about these things. Mostly he feels...a father feels proud and protective. I should speak for myself. I felt that way.”

For an instant she felt envy. Envy for a dead woman? “That’s a lovely thing to hear you say.” No, not envy, wistfulness. But she was privileged to have him share what he’d felt for his own unborn child.

Keeping an arm around her, he gathered the cotton nightgown she’d brought into the bathroom and walked with her into the bedroom again. “Put this on and climb into bed,” he told her, starting to walk around to the other side of the bed.

“No, don’t leave me yet.”

“I’m not leaving you, chère,” he said, returning. “You and I are going on together from here. I’m going to get into bed and go to sleep.”

“I’m sorry. I’m being selfish. You must be as tired as I was.”

“Was? What does that mean?”

She clutched the towel. “How can I be tired? Something just happened to me for the first time.”

“Yes, so it did.” Slowly he looked from her eyes to her stomach. “I’d like to touch it. They know it’s important to do that, for fathers to bond, as they say.”

This time Celina felt the tears slip free. “Yes,” she whispered.

Spreading the fingers of his left hand, he rested them on top of the towel, pressed carefully, and frowned. He added his right hand, and frowned even deeper.

“I did feel it,” she told him. “Like a bird. But I did.”

Celina took hold of his right wrist and moved his hand under the towel. His eyes flickered back to hers, and she saw him swallow. “Do you feel anything now?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I will though. Every time you feel him, tell me and I’ll listen.”

``Listen?”

“Yes. Sound funny, huh? I just think of it as listening.”

She stood still and held her breath. “I feel her.”

Jack went to his knees, parted the towel, and pressed his ear to her navel. Celina forgot to clutch her scant modesty. The towel fell to the floor. She stood naked and held Jack’s head against her.

“Do you hear?” she asked, breathless.

“I hear,” he told her. “Oh, I hear you in there, kiddo. How d’you think the Saints will do this year?”

Celina squeezed her eyes shut and felt her baby moving within her again.

Jack held her thighs and kissed her tummy lightly. “I will protect you,” he said. “You, and this child you love.”