Keeping Caroline

“Work—”

“Unless your habits have changed, you’ve taken exactly one day of leave in the last six years—the day we buried Brad.”

Pain swam across his face, but he hid it quickly.

“I think the department owes you some time off.”

“Paige is getting married in a few weeks. I have to be there.”

“It’s only a two-and-a-half-hour drive. You can go back whenever you need to.”

Matt turned to the window, where a swallow landed on the birdfeeder hung outside. “She was disappointed you didn’t R.S.V.P.”

Caroline’s heart fluttered like the wings of the tiny bird Matt had been watching. She’d been close to Matt’s sister, Paige. They’d gone to school together in Sweet Gum before Matt’s family moved to Port Kingston. She’d love to go to Paige’s wedding, but she could hardly show up at the church with a baby in tow.

A baby no one in its daddy’s family—including its daddy—knew about.

A few weeks, that was all she was asking for after fifteen years of marriage. Time to judge Matt’s state of mind. To figure out how he would react when she told him the choice whether or not to have another child had been taken out of his hands.

God had made the decision for him fourteen months ago, the last time Matt made love to her.

“One month,” she said, swallowing a lump of apprehension and sidestepping the issue of Paige’s wedding. “You give me one month of hard labor. I’ll give you your divorce.”

Caroline unlatched the baby from her breast and smiled down into her daughter’s heart-shaped face. Hailey made milky guppy-lips, but Caroline recognized the sucking as more of a comfort motion than hunger. Hailey’s eyelids sagged over pale, green irises. Most babies’s eyes changed color as they grew, but Caroline suspected Hailey’s eyes would always look like a fresh spring meadow.

Just like her father’s.

The baby flung one fist in the air in an effort to keep herself awake, her lashes fluttering wide open for a second. Then, losing the battle, she went limp in her mother’s arms. Caroline draped the infant over her shoulder. Tiny ribs rose and fell beneath her palm in fragile little breaths. Wee puffs of air warmed her cheek. The scent of talcum and gentle soap enveloped her, cuddled her, and made her feel safe the way she cuddled and made Hailey feel safe.

She was spoiling Hailey, holding her so much. Keeping her so close, day and night. But the drive to protect her at all costs ran strong inside Caroline. Born against all the odds, Hailey was her miracle baby. Her second chance.

After they’d had Brad, she and Matt had tried twice more to make a child. But each time an early miscarriage had crushed their hopes for a large family. Although the doctors said their was no physical reason she couldn’t carry a baby to term, she and Matt had finally decided to stop trying. The strain of losing their unborn children was just too difficult, and Matt feared another failed pregnancy might put Caroline’s health at risk. So they’d given up having more children and focused all their love and energy on Brad instead. They cherished their son, and he flourished under their care.

Until three years ago, at age eleven, when Matt and Caroline began to notice how easily he tired and the boyhood scrapes and bruises that seemed to take too long to heal.

He died a year later. Too young. Too innocent.

When he was gone, Caroline felt more alone than she ever had in her life. After a time of grieving, she wanted to try again to have a baby. To fill the empty space in her life.

But Matt had flatly refused. They were too old. It was too risky. He wasn’t ready.

She’d stayed with him another year, hoping he would change, heal, before she finally accepted the truth.

He would never be ready.

Out of the corner of her eye Caroline saw Savannah sweep into the room, all brisk efficiency.

“That him?” Jeb’s mother and Caroline’s business partner asked, looking out the window over Caroline’s shoulder.

Caroline studied the gray cloud roiling steadily down the gravel road. “Can’t imagine who else could kick up all that dust.”

“It’s a long way to the Johnson farm. You could have offered to pick him up, see’ns how he’s going to be working for you for free.”

“He likes to run in the morning. Clears his mind for the day, he says.”

“Humph. When folks are on top of the world, running clears their minds. When they’re hurting, it’s just a way to substitute one kind of pain for another.”

Caroline smiled, turned to her friend. As always, Savannah’s warm, brown eyes welcomed her. “You think it’s symbolic? Like he’s running away or something?”

“He’s not running away, honey. He’s running right to you.” The weather lines around Savannah’s eyes crinkled. “Now that’s symbolic.”

Savannah plucked Hailey from Caroline’s shoulder. She fussed with the baby’s sleeper and smoothed a broad palm over an upturned lock of hair on the crown of her head.

“Is that your psychology degree talking, or your mothering instincts?” Caroline asked.

“Don’t let this gray hair fool you, honey.” She tugged at the black, curly tufts threaded with silver. “You’re a year older than I am. So don’t be calling me your mother.”

Caroline laughed. “Why is it that I get to be older, but you get to be wiser?”

Savannah’s stately features took on a remote look. “Hard livin’, honey. And it ain’t nothing to wish for.”

Before Caroline could comment, Savannah peered out the window and whistled. “Would you look at that? I haven’t seen a body like that in—well, I haven’t ever seen a body like that!” She fanned herself with a clean diaper.

Matt had arrived. Wearing nothing but a pair of running shorts, he stood in the yard, bent in half and dousing his head with the garden hose. His body sparkled with glistening droplets. Alf sat beside him. When Matt finished rinsing himself, he turned the hose on the dog. Alf lapped up the spray, then man and dog shook their heads with equal ferocity, winging water in a ten-foot circle around them.

Caroline elbowed Savannah. “That’s my husband’s butt you’re ogling.”

“Mmm, and a fine butt it is, too.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be. Like work?”

“My first patient isn’t until ten. Plenty of time for me to make us all some breakfast and keep my ears open for this little beauty of ours while you talk to the bu—” Her eyes twinkled. “Your husband.”

“Savannah—” Caroline clutched her friend’s arm and kept her from turning away. She hadn’t talked with Savannah professionally in months. Since their relationship had progressed beyond doctor-patient into solid friendship and they’d struck this business deal. But she had questions now, and nowhere else to turn with them. “I’m afraid.”

A sudden protectiveness flashed across Savannah’s face. “Physically?”

“No. Matt would never hurt me, not physically.” She dropped her hand from Savannah’s arm and turned back to the window.

“But he has hurt you emotionally.”

“We hurt each other.”

“And all those old wounds are about to be reopened.”

Caroline swallowed around the lump in her throat, nodded. Without hearing her move, Caroline felt Savannah’s hand land on her shoulder. Strong fingers squeezed, held her.

“Have you ever heard that a quick, clean cut heals faster than a slow, jagged tear?” Savannah asked.