17
Darius waited on the doorstep of Bennington Place, a spray of daisies from his mother’s garden in one hand. What kind of offering did a person bring for a battered pregnant woman? Daisies, the most cheerful of flowers, seemed the best option.
He’d told Olivia that he would call to see how the woman was doing, but he’d decided to come by in person to see for himself. As much as he tried to deny it, the real truth was that he wanted to see Olivia again and was afraid that if he telephoned first, she’d refuse his request.
When the door opened, he readied his best smile. But it wasn’t Olivia who answered.
A young, freckle-faced girl, obviously quite pregnant, stood with the door only half-open. “Yes?”
“Good morning. Is Miss Rosetti in?”
The girl eyed his flowers, then looked up at him. “I remember you. You were here when the pipe burst.”
Ah yes. The girl who’d reported the leak. Margaret, was it?
“That’s right. I’m Darius Reed. I came to see how the injured woman is doing. I helped bring her in yesterday.”
Somewhat reluctantly, it seemed, the girl stood back to let him enter.
“Margaret, who was at the—oh. Hello, Mr. Reed.” Mrs. Bennington appeared in the corridor. Her tone, though not exactly friendly, wasn’t as cold as it usually was when she addressed him.
“Good morning, Mrs. Bennington. I came to see how the woman who arrived yesterday is doing.” He glanced down the hall, hoping to catch sight of Olivia.
“We’ve had a rough night of it, but she’s stable for now.” Ruth turned to the girl. “Margaret, do you know where Olivia is? I thought she’d be in the office, but it’s empty.”
“She’s out in the yard. Has been for a while.” With a shrug, the girl returned to the parlor.
Ruth let out a sigh, then turned her attention to Darius. “Mary, the woman you brought in, went into labor in the middle of the night. She gave birth to a little girl, though we almost lost the mother soon afterward. I think the situation affected Olivia more than she expected.” She studied him. “You might be just the distraction Olivia needs. If you go out through the kitchen, you’ll find her in the backyard.”
The importance of her trusting him with Olivia wasn’t lost on Darius. He held out the posy of daisies. “Would you give these to Mary for me?”
Her brows rose as she accepted the flowers. “I thought they were for Olivia.”
“No, ma’am. But it’s a nice idea. I should have thought of it.”
“This is thoughtful enough. So is your coming here. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I didn’t sleep very well last night thinking about what that poor woman had been through.”
Ruth’s features softened. “It’s possible I’ve misjudged you, Mr. Reed. You seem to be a decent person, even though you still want my house.”
He laughed. “A high compliment indeed.”
“Try to get Olivia to come inside and eat something. She’s been brooding for hours now.”
Darius walked through the kitchen, past a wary cook, and out the back door. When he paused on the small stoop to scan the yard, his breath caught at the sight before him. Olivia stood with her back to him, her dark hair loose and flowing to her waist. There was an ethereal quality about her that beckoned to him. Yet all he could do was stare as she bent to smell the roses that lined the fence. It was a scene that an artist would love to paint—the sunshine haloing her head, the soft breeze ruffling her dress, the sea of colorful blooms surrounding her.
Breathtaking. Sacred even.
Shaking off his reaction, he descended the steps and crossed the lawn, hating to disturb the peaceful scene.
“Good morning, Olivia.”
She whirled around, eyes wide. “Darius. What are you doing here?”
Not the most welcoming greeting. “I wanted to see how our patient is doing. Mrs. Bennington told me she had the baby.”
Olivia nodded. “For a while, we thought Mary wasn’t going to make it.” She twisted a rose between her fingers, scattering petals onto the lawn.
“You stayed with her during the birth, I understand.”
“Yes. I didn’t want her to be alone.”
“That took a lot of courage.” He couldn’t begin to fathom how she’d endured it, but maybe women had more stamina for the birthing process. He remembered when Sofia was born, how relieved he’d been when the doctor had asked him to leave the delivery room. He hadn’t done well witnessing Selene’s pain and trusted she’d be better off in the hands of the professionals. Now, after hearing Olivia’s story, he felt like a coward.
“I wasn’t brave.” She shook her head. “When Mary took a bad turn, I ran out.” Her troubled eyes met his. “It made me wonder if I’m strong enough to do this.”
The wind blew her hair around her face, several strands brushing his jacket.
“From what I’ve seen, I’d say you’re plenty strong,” he said softly. “You’re a remarkable woman, Olivia Rosetti.” The temptation to touch her, to pull her close and kiss her, almost proved too strong. Before he did something foolish—something he couldn’t take back—he moved away. “Why don’t we go up and see how Mary’s doing? I wouldn’t mind seeing the baby.”
Her brown eyes widened. “Really?”
“Nothing like new life to renew your faith in the world.”
“And in God.”
“True.”
She smiled, a slow lifting of her lips. “All right, then. Let’s go.”
Olivia’s legs still weren’t steady as she climbed the stairs beside Darius. After that breath-stealing moment when she thought he might reach out and touch her, when her heart had practically bounced from her chest, she wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing.
As they neared Mary’s room, Dr. Henshaw emerged, concern shadowing his features.
“How’s she doing?” Olivia asked.
“Not well, I’m afraid. She’s not picking up like I hoped. I’ve decided to bring her to the hospital and get another opinion on her condition.”
“What about the baby?” Olivia glanced toward the door. Who would care for the infant if her mother was so ill?
The doctor scratched the beginning of stubble on his chin. “I’d prefer to keep her here since Mary isn’t capable of looking after her right now. Plus, the child will be less likely to pick up any illnesses.”
Ruth came out of the room, the baby in her arms.
Tension snapped along Olivia’s shoulders. If Darius wasn’t here, she’d have run to her room. Anything to avoid the reminder of her loss.
Dr. Henshaw turned to Ruth. “Did you have any luck?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Luck with what?” Darius asked.
The doctor sighed. “I’m trying to get information for the birth certificate. Mary won’t name the father, or even give her own surname.”
“She did say she wants to call the baby Abigail.” Ruth smiled down at the sleeping infant.
“That’s something at least. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll arrange for Mary’s transportation to the hospital.” The doctor headed toward the staircase.
“I guess that means she’s not up for a visitor?” Darius asked.
“Not now. She’s drifted off again.” Ruth held out the baby. “But you could hold little Abigail if you’d like.”
Olivia stepped back, almost tripping in her haste. Her stomach churned as she tried not to look at the child.
Surprisingly, Darius didn’t hesitate to gather the baby against his chest. A soft smile hovered on his lips as he stared down at her. “She’s beautiful. With all that dark hair, she reminds me of my Sofia when she was born.”
Ruth looked over at Olivia. “You haven’t held the baby yet, Olivia. Would you like a turn?”
She shook her head. How could she comfort a baby when she’d been denied that luxury with her own son? It wouldn’t be fair to Matteo.
But before she realized it, Darius had placed the bundle on her shoulder. “Here you go. There’s nothing to it.”
The air stalled in her lungs as the baby snuggled into her neck and the smell of talcum powder surrounded her. Instinctively, her arm came up to clasp the child. The baby sighed, her tiny chest rising and falling at a slightly faster rate than Olivia’s. As warmth seeped through her body, Olivia’s heart expanded with a fierce protectiveness she’d only felt once before. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears forming despite her best intentions, and rubbed a soothing hand over the baby’s back. Maybe it wouldn’t be wrong to care for another child. Maybe she’d be making up for not being able to do the same for Matteo.
“Olivia, are you all right?” Ruth’s voice seemed to come from a distance.
She opened her eyes. “I’m fine.”
Darius and Ruth both stared at her with concerned expressions.
“You’re crying.” Darius stated the fact in an incredulous tone.
The wetness of her cheeks proved his words, but she smiled. “I am. Because she’s so precious.”
“Yes, she is.” Ruth patted Olivia’s arm. “If you wouldn’t mind taking her for a while, I have a few things to take care of.”
“I’d be happy to.” Where moments ago she’d been terrified to hold the baby, Olivia now didn’t want to release her. “I’ll take her downstairs. Will she be hungry soon?”
“Another hour or two. But she may need changing. There are diapers in Mary’s room on the dresser.” Ruth smiled. “Thank you for stopping by with the flowers, Mr. Reed. Mary did manage to see them before she fell asleep again.”
“I’m glad. And I’ll be praying for her recovery.”
“That’s the best thing we can do for her right now.”
Olivia headed toward the stairs. “There’s a rocking chair in the parlor. Would you like to join me there?” she asked Darius.
He pulled out his pocket watch and frowned. “I’d love to, but I’m afraid I have to get back to the office for a meeting. Could I come by again in a day or two and see how they’re both doing?”
Olivia nodded. “I’d like that.”
And this time she truly meant it.