Sanctuary

“Then I don’t understand.”

Because she hadn’t lived in the real world. Yet. “In many ways, it’s easier to live the Brethrens’ teachings than not live them,” Hope said. “Then you always know what’s right and wrong—or at least you think you do. Because they’ve made all your decisions for you. And now…you have to start thinking for yourself.”

THAT NIGHT Hope’s shift at the hospital seemed to drag on forever. They had two mothers in labor, several newborns in the nursery and an ob/gyn who wasn’t responding to his page. But despite concerns that she or Sandra Cleary, her supervisor, would have to deliver the baby if the doctor didn’t arrive soon, Hope couldn’t keep herself from reflecting on Faith. Soon her sister would be doing exactly what the two women in rooms 14 and 15 were doing—giving birth. Then she’d have a newborn in the house, as well as a sister with whom she’d had no contact for almost eleven years—

“Hope, can you visit Mrs. Walker’s room?” Sandra asked. She had her head down and was busy finishing up some paperwork at the nurses’ station. “She’s signaling for us.”

“Of course.” Hope visited Room 14, where she’d already spent much of her time since coming on duty at ten. Mrs. Walker asked if they’d heard from her doctor yet. Hope had to tell her no.

“What happens if he doesn’t get here?” Mr. Walker asked, worry creasing his forehead.

“Everything will be fine,” Hope assured him. “I’ve been a nurse for five years and Sandra’s been here longer than I have. Between us, we’ve seen hundreds of births and even delivered a few babies. And there’s always the emergency physician on duty downstairs.” She didn’t add that he’d only be able to help if there wasn’t someone with a more pressing condition—like a heart attack—in the emergency room. She figured that was a little too much information at this point.

They seemed to accept her words, probably because they had no choice, and Hope fetched Mrs. Walker another blanket to keep her legs warm.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, and went to the nurses’ station to see if Sandra had heard anything from their missing doctor.

“Not yet,” she responded, tucking several strands of shoulder-length brown hair behind one ear. “I swear, if we have to deliver this baby…”

If they delivered the baby, the stress would probably take a year off their lives, yet they’d make their normal salaries, nothing more. The doctor, who’d most likely turned off his pager, would still receive his full fee. Considering all the things that could go wrong…

Hope didn’t even want to think about all the things that could go wrong. “He’ll get here,” she said as confidently as possible, and glanced at the clock. Was it too late to call Faith? Hope hated leaving her alone so soon. She’d dug a Bible out of her attic for Faith to read before bed, hoping that might help her sister acclimate. But Hope’s world was so foreign to Faith, she could be feeling pretty lost. She could even be weakening and thinking about going back….

Unfortunately, it was past midnight. Too late to call. And Mrs. Walker was signaling for a nurse again.

Heading back to room 14, Hope told herself to quit worrying. Somehow, everything would work out for the best.

HOPE’S EYES were gritty with fatigue as she drove home from the hospital the following morning. She’d had to stay a couple of hours beyond her usual shift because Regina Parks, one of the morning nurses, had called in sick right in the middle of a surprise, preterm delivery.

At least Mrs. Walker’s doctor had shown up in time to actually earn his fee. After that, everything had gone smoothly—until the emergency that had kept her late. A teenage girl had arrived at 6 a.m., already in advanced labor. Fortunately, the emergency doctor had been available to help, and the baby, a boy, took his first breath just minutes before Hope left. The baby was tiny, barely four pounds, and had respiratory problems, but the doctor thought he was going to live.

Hope remembered the young mother’s excitement over her infant and wondered how Lydia had ever inspired her to become an obstetrics nurse. When faced with the normal scenario of appropriately aged mothers, attending fathers and supportive families, she could usually do her job without letting things get to her. But every once in a while someone like this young teenager came in—someone who invariably pulled her back to the day she herself had given birth. Then such a powerful longing gripped her, she could barely function. She’d told Faith she felt confident that her daughter was living a princesslike life. But there was no way to know for sure. Hope could only assume the best, and pray. As far as she’d drifted from organized religion, she still prayed about that. And she still dreamed of meeting her child, of touching the little girl she’d secretly named Autumn, if only just once.

Forcing her attention away from the empty ache she felt whenever she thought of Autumn, Hope stretched her neck to ease the tension knotting her muscles and pulled into the garage. With any luck, she’d find Faith in good spirits and be able to get some rest. She felt as though she could sleep for a week if—

The sound of voices reached her ears as she got out of the car and approached the house. Was it the television? She wanted to believe it was, but a flash of movement inside the front windows told her she and Faith had company.

CHAPTER FIVE

AFTER RUSHING to get inside before whoever had come could drag Faith away, Hope stood in her doorway as though transfixed. It was Bonner. After so many years, she’d begun to think she’d never see him again. She’d certainly never expected him to show up on her doorstep.

He’d changed. Of course, he was only eighteen when she’d seen him last; she should have anticipated some differences. But Bonner had done more than grow a couple of inches and put on a few pounds. Unlike most of the other men in the church, his thick dark hair was neatly trimmed and his face cleanly shaven. His clothes were modern and his teeth straight, despite the fact that few polygamists ever bothered with braces. And his eyes…

Actually, his eyes were the same. Maybe that was why his presence hit her so hard.

Slowly, he rose to his feet. Next to him, Arvin did the same.

Arvin’s presence came as much less of a surprise. Hope had worried that he might crop up again, somehow give them trouble. She had not considered Bonner’s involvement.

“What’s going on?” she asked, finally looking at Faith.

Faith folded her arms in a cradling, protective manner. “I’m sorry, Hope,” she said. “I…I felt I should call Mother, let her know where I was and tell her we’re okay. She said she was really grateful I did—”

“And then she sent Arvin after you.”

“I just wanted to give her some peace of mind.”

“Your mother did the right thing,” Arvin declared, his attention on Faith. “Now you need to do the right thing. I’m your husband, after all.”

“You’re her uncle,” Hope clarified. “Nothing more.”

“You’d bastardize your sister’s child?” he cried. “Listen to her, Bonner! See what she’s become? She’s trying to make a mockery of my marri—”

“Arvin,” Bonner interrupted, his tone sharp, “calm down and let me handle this.”

To Hope’s amazement, Arvin quickly backed off. “Fine. You take care of it, Bonner. I’m just…I’m angry, that’s all. She had no right to take my wife and child away. I’ve never done anything to Hope.”

Bonner spared him an irritated glance, and Hope braced herself for whatever he might say. He was the only man she’d ever loved. She’d had a few sexual encounters since they’d created Autumn, but those experiences had been, without exception, unsatisfying and mechanical.

“You look good, Hope,” Bonner said. “But then, you were always beautiful, more beautiful than any other woman.”

“You can say that to me when you’re married to my sister?” she asked, her stomach churning with leftover emotions she’d rather not name.

“You want me to lie?”

“I want you to go.”

“Only if Faith goes with us,” Arvin interjected.

Another pointed glance from Bonner shut him up. “I know you have no reason to hear me out, Hope, but I’m only asking for a few minutes of your time. That’s all. Surely what we shared warrants that much. Is there someplace we could talk?”

Hope felt tears sting her eyes, but she absolutely refused to shed them. She’d quit crying over Bonner long ago. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Just a few minutes,” he said. “I want to make things right between us.”

There wasn’t any way to make things right. Autumn was gone. Bonner could never restore what he’d taken from her.

But he’d been only eighteen….

Finally Hope gave a brusque nod and led him out to her back porch, where she sat in one of the two wrought-iron chairs. She would’ve offered him the other chair, but she could barely bring herself to look at him.

“It’s nice out here,” he said. From the corner of her eye, she could see his gaze sweeping the flower garden, the birdbath and hummingbird feeder.

Hope’s throat felt thick, as though she couldn’t speak. She turned her attention to the huge, colorful heads of orange, purple and pink dahlias and tried to draw strength and peace from their beauty. She inhaled the smell of moist grass and freshly turned earth. This was her haven, the safe place she’d created.

But her past had caught up with her.

“Say what you came to say,” she said, hoping for a quick release from the intensity of the moment. Her fatigue wasn’t helping.