From This Day Forward (35 page)

"How do you feel?" he asked, his voice strange in his own ears.

"Tired," she murmured.

Caroline drew the child to her breast, gasping as the tiny mouth closed over her tender nipple. Awkwardly, she supported the babe against her shoulder so she could caress his head with her good hand. Her eyes glazed with an emotion that touched him like a shadow.

His own feelings must pale when compared to hers. She'd known this child for nearly nine months, carried him beneath her heart, felt him move inside her body. They were still connected in a way that made him feel like an outsider, an observer with no part in the miracle.

He turned away from the warmth reflected in her eyes. Within minutes, his own pier would come into view and they would be faced with the same world they had left behind two days ago. The same problems would be waiting for them. But for a few more minutes, he reveled in the closeness that had grown between them last night.

When he glanced at Caroline again, both mother and child were asleep.

"Caroline," he murmured. He hated to wake her, but they would be docking soon and she needed to cover her exposed breast and prepare herself before they met the rest of the world.

"Caroline," he said more insistently.

Smiling languidly, she opened her eyes, and the love and contentment reflected there took his breath away.

"We'll be docking soon," he told her. "I think you should, ah—"

Suddenly, inexplicably embarrassed, he could only gesture toward her exposed flesh. She understood and drew her blouse together awkwardly, a touch of pink staining her cheeks.

"We should name him, you know," she said weakly.

"There's plenty of time for that," he assured her, concentrating on the river now that there was, blessedly, something to take his attention away from the yearning in his chest. "We can talk about it when you've regained your strength.
"

They accomplished the rest of the journey in silence. As they drew near, the pier exploded in activity. Men had already gathered and had begun preparations to send a search party after them. Now they stood at the end of the dock, craning their necks to see whether he was returning alone.

"I see
a
Senhora
!" someone shouted, and a cheer went up from the small group.

Jason scowled, even though his heart swelled with pride at their admiration. Cutting the engine, he moved to the side of the boat and tossed a thick rope to one of the men on the shore. Quickly the boat was secured and boarded.

"Easy," Jason said as the men tried to crowd around Caroline. "She's still weak."

Ines shouldered her way through the silent, gaping men. "My poor
Senhora
!
"

"Take the baby, Ines," Jason ordered. "Be careful of Caroline's left arm."

Caroline smiled weakly at Ines as she took the child from her arm. "Isn't he the most beautiful baby you've ever seen?"

"Sim,
Senhora
," Ines agreed, her eyes filling with tears. "Out of the way!" she commanded as she made her way back through the sea of men.

Jason moved beside Caroline, carefully arranging the sheet he'd wrapped around her to replace the ruined skirt he'd had to cut away last night. The pressure of her eyes drew his gaze to hers as he carefully slipped his arms underneath her and lifted her off the bed. Immediately she twined her arm around his neck and rested her weary head against his shoulder.

Fear clutched his heart as he held her to him, trembling through his being, a fear greater than any he'd ever known before. All his life, the things he'd cared about had been stripped from him. He didn't think he could endure it if he lost her, lost them.

He should put them on a boat and take them to New Orleans himself, as soon as they were strong enough to travel. He should take them far from him and see to it that they had a comfortable home and everything money could buy before taking himself out of their lives forever. But if they were so far away, how could he keep them safe?

Never had he been so confused, so trapped by a situation that brought him the fiercest joy and deepest fear he'd ever experienced.

He knew from the rhythm of her breathing that Caroline had fallen asleep again. She'd surrendered herself into his care last night because she'd had no choice. But how could she continue to trust him after what he'd done, what he'd almost done, what he was? He didn't deserve it, any of it. He didn't deserve her or a perfect son or her unreserved trust.

Winding his way through the smiling, gaping men who moved aside to let them pass, he tried to clear his mind, tried to think rationally, but in the blink of an eye, he had lost every ounce of logic he'd ever possessed. In the blink of an eye, he'd been transformed into something he didn't understand or particularly like.

There were no more walls, nothing to protect him from his own emotions. All he had to do was look at his son or at this extraordinary woman who had believed in him when he didn't believe in himself, this woman who had taken his seed and given him a child.

Every time he gazed at them or thought of them, the walls dissolved and the emotions he'd tried so hard to cut off assaulted him with a vengeance.

It was as if his heart had been turned inside out and all his feelings lay bare and unprotected for all to see.

It scared the hell out of him.

Caroline awoke with a start, listening intently for any sound from the crib at the end of her bed. When none came, she relaxed back on the pillow once again.

She'd been dreaming about the storm. Over the last few weeks since Jason brought her back to the
fazenda
,
she'd been slowly remembering things about that terrible accident. The memories came to her in the form of hideous nightmares. Tonight she'd dreamed of falling through the air, helplessly buffeted by fierce winds. When her body slammed into the roiling water, the impact had awakened her.

How had she ever survived, she wondered for the hundredth time. Why had she lived when the others had not?

Shivering in the darkness, she remembered waking on the riverbank, covered with mud, racked with pain, unable to move. If Jason hadn't found her, she'd have almost certainly died. He'd saved her life, hers and their child's.

Pushing the covers down, she climbed out of bed, careful not to jostle the injured arm that Ines had set properly following Caroline's instructions. Her heart swelled with joy and love as she gazed down at her little Jase.

Caroline wondered how Jason would react to her decision to name the baby after him. It wasn't official, of course, but she couldn't continue thinking of him as
the
baby
or
the
child,
as if he were an object instead of a little person. And since Jason had chosen to avoid them both, she'd picked a name herself. Even if Jason objected strenuously, she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to think of him by any other name.

Running her hands lovingly over the raw-wood surface of the small crib, she smiled into the darkness, thinking of how frantically the men had worked to build it upon her return. Jason had bemoaned its roughhewn appearance, but it meant more to her than any expensive store-bought cradle ever could.

And the women had been equally kind, gifting her with potions to make the baby sleep, to make him eat better, to make him grow faster, and though she couldn't bring herself to use any of them, she managed to appear grateful. Their time and their knowledge she did treasure and use, but when Ines had suggested that she find a wet nurse, that it wasn't quite proper for the
patrona
to nurse her own child, Caroline had refused flatly.

Having to nurse the baby herself might seriously curtail her freedom, but she didn't care one whit. There was nowhere else she'd rather be than with her son, unless, of course, she was with his father.

Jason had saved them both from the jungle and the river. If only she could save him from himself.

She closed her eyes with a sigh. Some things never changed, at least Jason never changed. He was infuriatingly predictable. In the weeks since they returned, he hadn't spoken more than three words to her. He'd avoided her. practically living in the orchards, probably sleeping at the
beneficio,
even though the fires had long since died out and the danger to what was left of the trees was over.

Well, he might be able to ignore her, but he hadn't been able to achieve that level of indifference where his son was concerned. More than once, she'd caught him standing over the cradle in the main sitting room, gazing down at the infant with such a stark, bottomless yearning that she was forced to turn away. It was as if he was suddenly afraid to touch little Jase, after delivering him and caring for him through that first night.

Assured that Jase was fine and sleeping soundly, she left the bedroom for the sitting room, stopping before the window and gazing down at the courtyard below.

There he was, sitting at the stone table, his head in his hands. She stiffened at the sight of the bottle on the table before him.

Driven by anger and frustration, Caroline tore the door open and marched down the stairs, not stopping until she stood over his hunched form. Reluctantly he lifted his head, his glazed, blood-shot eyes narrowing at the sight of her.

"Is this your answer, Jason?" she asked bitterly. "Will you deal with life by staying drunk?"

She grabbed the bottle, intent on smashing it on the patio as he'd done once before. To her surprise, the bottle was full, the seal unbroken.

Her first thought was that he had dispatched another bottle and this was his second, but when he opened his mouth to speak, she detected not a trace of liquor on his breath. Something else had caused the glazed, lost look in his eyes.

"I can't let you go," he murmured. "I'm sorry,
Caroline.
I...
I just can't
             
You have no reason to
believe me when I tell you I'd never hurt you or our child, not after all I've done. But I won't come near you, either of you. If I can just see you and know that you're here, maybe it will be enough. It'll have to be enough."

Impulsively, Caroline reached out to him, wanting somehow to ease the agony in his soul. She rested a hand on his broad shoulder, feeling the muscles tense beneath her fingers.

"Jason, we can't live in the same house and never
speak to
one another. You know that won't work. I can't bear it when you withdraw from me."

"It'll have to work," he said desperately, twisting away from her and coming to his feet. "I'll make it work. You have my word. I'll sleep at the
beneficio
from now on. I'll—"

"Foolish man," she muttered, shaking her head in a gesture of pity and helplessness. "You'll never hold your son again? You'll never want to make love to me again?"

He glared at her, running a hand through his hair. "Wanting and doing are two different things."

"It won't work, Jason." Did he truly believe it would?

"We can make it work. There's no other way because I'm not letting you go. I'll give you a gun and teach you how to use it, and if I ever touch either of you, I want you to shoot me...."

Caroline tried with all her might but couldn't stifle the laughter that welled up from her throat.

"This isn't funny, Caroline." The grimness of his expression pushed her closer to complete loss of control, but she forced herself to appear chagrined.

"I'm sorry, Jason. I can't help it. Are you finished with your nonsense?"

"Nonsense? Is that what you call it?"

"Yes. What do you call it? Listen to me, you've tried to send me away since I first arrived here. And I've tried to leave. We've both failed. Don't you see? We're meant to be together. I have no doubt that if I tried to leave again, another boat would capsize or alligators would pick me up and carry me back. I'm not going anywhere."