Jamie took a step backward.
“Hey, where are you going, girl?” Mary Millicent demanded. “I’m not through talking yet. And I want to sing Christmas carols.”
She grabbed a plastic water pitcher and threw it at Jamie. “You come back here, girl. You come back here right this minute or I’ll tell the witch and Amanda that you’ve been coming up here to see me. I’ll tell them to kill your dog.”
Jamie latched the door to her apartment behind her and pulled the sofa in front of the door. And put the coffee table on top of the sofa.
Angrily she wiped her cheeks. No tears, she told herself. She had gotten herself into this mess. She had to see it through to the end or…
Or what?
She knelt and petted her dog, who was confused by her late-night activity. He became more confused as she began to pace. He sat there watching her go back and forth, like a spectator at a tennis match, occasionally offering a whimper to express his disapproval.
She needed to think.
Or maybe not so much to think as to organize all the disparate thoughts that were tumbling around in her brain. To sort things out. To work through her confusion.
Not that she believed everything that Mary Millicent said. After all, the woman was afflicted with senile dementia. Or Alzheimer’s. Paranoia. Or maybe she was just plain nuts.
But not all the time. Sometimes Mary Millicent seemed perfectly lucid. Which didn’t necessarily mean that she was telling the truth.
Was Sonny Hartmann really the father of the baby inside of her, she agonized. And was Gus Hartmann some sort of underworld figure who could arrange for people to be murdered?
Long after Amanda had excused herself and gone upstairs to bed, Gus sat staring at the glowing embers, sipping sherry and making plans. Just to be on the safe side, he’d have Montgomery destroy the girl’s copy of the contract. He didn’t want her showing it to anyone or it falling into the wrong hands.
After the baby was born, the girl would be followed when she drove away from the ranch in her grandmother’s car.
No one would ever know what happened to her. She would simply vanish from the earth. Probably no one would even file a missing person’s report.
When Freda said it was time, Gus followed his sister up the wooden stairs, this time for the deathwatch. It was dark outside, and the candles had been lit once again. Montgomery was already there with Freda. Kelly joined them for a while then walked over to Sonny’s bed and offered a military salute. When she turned to leave, her face was covered with tears.
One of the gardeners-a burly man named Enrique-brought Mary Millicent’s wheelchair down the stairs to Sonny’s room and then carried Mary Millicent herself, which made Gus feel acutely inadequate. With his stubby legs, it was all he could do to get himself up and down the steep stairs.
They seated themselves in front of the bed and waited while Sonny’s respirations grew farther and farther apart and progressively shallower. Gus found himself holding his own breath while waiting for Sonny’s next one.
On and on it went. For hours, it seemed. Each time Gus was sure that he was gone, Sonny would take another breath.
He tried to convince himself that what was about to happen was, in a sense, after the fact. The living force that had been a wonderfully kind and gentle boy was already gone from Sonny’s body and had been since the day of the accident. Nevertheless, as long as his nephew’s flesh was warm and his heart was beating, the still form lying there on the bed represented Sonny to him.
Gus had surprised himself by agreeing to be here. But if his sister wanted him with her, how could he say no? He needed Amanda’s love more than he needed life itself. More so now than ever before.
Amanda asked Freda to lead them in singing “Amazing Grace.” Mary Millicent’s quavery, old voice rose above the rest. At the end of that hymn, Mary Millicent said they must sing Sonny’s favorite hymn and began singing,
A mighty fortress is our God,
A bulwark never failing;
Our helper, He amid the flood
Of mortal ills prevailing…
Gus remembered the words to every verse. He was, after all, the son, grandson, and brother of evangelists, and actually it felt good to sing the familiar words from his childhood. He moved his chair close to his mother’s wheelchair so they could harmonize, as they had done so often all those years ago.
Suddenly they realized that Sonny’s breathing had stopped. Freda put her fingers to his neck. Then she kissed his forehead, put her hands to her face, and began to sob.
Gus and Amanda helped their mother to her feet. She kissed her grandson’s lips and stroked his hair and face. “Good-bye, my poor little Sonny boy,” she whispered in his ear. “You can go be an angel now.”
Then Gus kissed Sonny’s lips and chin and forehead. And his eyes. His hands. His silent heart. He felt as though his own heart were bursting inside his chest.
Amanda lingered, caressing her son’s face. “Take good care of my baby, Lord,” she implored. “Take him to your breast and love him for eternity.”
“Amen,” Gus said.
He envied his sister her faith. How nice it would be to think of Sonny in a bright warm place with love all around.
Jamie awoke to the sound of the wind-a howling wind that sounded like a horde of enormous creatures enraged because they could not force the stone fortress from its foundation. She glanced at her clock and realized it was morning-a very dark morning.
She dressed in layers and pulled on her coat. “Let’s get this over with,” she told Ralph.
She was surprised to see Miss Montgomery, Nurse Freda, and Kelly coming out of the housekeeper’s apartment and heading in the direction of the great hall. Jamie waited on the bottom step as they walked past her, the expressions on their faces solemn. Miss Montgomery and Kelly acknowledged Jamie’s presence with perfunctory nods. The nurse seemed not to notice her.
Outside the cold took Jamie’s breath away. As soon as Ralph had found just the right spot to relieve himself, he came racing back up the steps, obviously eager to go back inside.
Her breakfast tray was waiting outside her door. She carried it inside and, telling Ralph she would be right back, headed down the corridor toward the chapel. She pushed open the hidden door and climbed the wooden stairs. The room where Sonny had been was empty, the bed stripped.
She thought of the little windswept cemetery with its iron fence. Soon Sonny Hartmann would be laid to rest in that sad, lonely place.
Chapter Nineteen
“MY GOODNESS-seven months,” Freda said as she palpated Jamie’s abdomen. “Time flies, doesn’t it?”
Jamie didn’t bother to respond. If she had, she would have disagreed. For her time dragged by like a brick harnessed to a snail.
She lay quietly while Freda continued her examination. “You’re doing fine, sugar,” the nurse said as she helped Jamie to a sitting position. “Do you have any questions?”
“Not really,” Jamie said.
“Well, you should. Your due date is still two months away, but sometimes babies come early. I want you to call me at the first sign of labor or if your water breaks or even if it just begins to dribble some. Or sometimes the first sign of impending labor is when the mucus plug is expelled, which always has some blood mixed in. No cause for alarm. But whether it’s labor pains or your water breaking or passing the mucus plug, I want you to have Montgomery get in touch with me. Day or night.”
“Then what happens?” Jamie asked.
“Hard to predict. Even lean girls like you with great muscle tone usually take a while with their first baby. I’ll keep you as comfortable as possible throughout, but it won’t be a walk in the park. You know that, don’t you?”