From This Day Forward

chapter Seventeen



Caroline watched as the muddy riverbank littered with the corpses of trees moved slowly past. A lone heron searched the shallows for food, while tiny surface fish churned the water in the middle of the river, their silver bodies flickering brightly in the sunlight.

She gasped and ran a hand over her distended stomach. Bracing herself, she waited for the next movement, but the child inside her grew still once again. Smiling into the brilliant sunlight, she remembered the first time she'd felt the fluttering. Then it had been as faint as the butterflies she experienced as a child whenever she rode the train from New Orleans to Memphis with her father. But over the months, the movements had grown stronger, more unsettling.

She knew from her medical training that an active baby in the womb meant a better chance that it would be born healthy, and she prayed that would be the case. She couldn't even contemplate the possibility that the baby she carried so close to her heart might not be perfect.

Something primitive and a bit frightening had taken control of her body. And as disturbing as the idea might be, it was also incredibly thrilling. Changes took place inside her every day, changes in her shape, her appetite, her energy reserves—changes over which she had no control, no choice. And the ultimate change would come when her body, acting on its own volition, expelled this child from her womb and into the world. What a terrifyingly savage thing!

"We'll get through it, you and I," Caroline whispered, caressing her rounded abdomen, pushing the stark fear out of her mind.

Tears threatened her control as the weight of loneliness crashed in upon her. She'd had no one to talk to about her joys and fears, no one but Ines, who had never experienced pregnancy. The other women on the fazenda had given advice and gifts, but for the most part they were strangers to her, acquaintances at best.

At first, she'd wanted to share her growing awareness of the life inside her with Jason, to make plans, to wonder together what their child would be like. Their child—hers and Jason's. But Jason had been so aloof, so distant, as if by ignoring her condition he could make it disappear.

Now she understood so many things. Jason was right. She hadn't considered the depths of the emotional scars such a childhood would leave—until that day at the beneficio.

For more than a month now, she'd been reliving their last argument over and over in her mind. She'd contemplated Jason's revelations and considered how the things that had happened to him had shaped him into the man he was today.

She released a wretched sigh. He'd become a wraith during the past month, a phantom. From time to time she'd feel a prickling of sensation that told her he was nearby, but she never actually saw him.

Not sure what to say to him, she'd allowed him to withdraw. They both needed some time to sort out all the things that had passed between them. Perhaps they just couldn't live together.

He wanted this child; she'd seen the yearning in his eyes when he'd let down his guard. And yet, when she'd taken his hand and placed it on her stomach, he'd pulled away from her as if he couldn't bear to touch her, as if the very thought terrified him.

What did it matter now? She'd tried to reach him, tried every way she knew, and she'd failed. He had finally won. And so today she had boarded the mail boat as it docked at Jason's pier and sailed away..

Sniffing loudly, she went over her plan again in her mind. Within three weeks, she would be safely in Manaus. She'd wire Melanie for money. She hated to do so, but Melanie was her only hope, her only friend. She had enough money to survive in Manaus for a while, but time was not her ally. She would be able to go no farther before the baby was born.

Perhaps it had all worked out for the best, in some strange, unexpected way, she thought, as she watched the shore move swiftly past, the mail boat carrying her farther and farther away from her heart. She'd been so afraid of having this baby alone in the wilderness, now at least she would be in a city. Surely she would be able to locate a doctor.

If only...

Oh, she could go mad dwelling on the if onlys. If only she'd had more time.... If only she hadn't forced him into a corner time and again.... If only she'd allowed Jason to be Jason instead of trying to mold him into what she wanted him to be.

Caroline gazed around in dismay. She'd been so deep in thought, she hadn't noticed how dark the hazy afternoon sky had become. On all sides, the walls of vegetation receded into shadows. The cold slate-blue sky went suddenly purple and the boat's captain steered the craft toward the almost indiscernible bank to their left.

One crew member walked toward her across the deck as the rain began to fall, slowly at first, the violence of the storm increasing with every passing second. She reached the cover of the striped canopy just in time, just as the man she knew only as Juao reached her.

"The captain knows of a cabin where we can wait out the storm," he told her in impeccable English, his tone apologetic, his dark, bushy brows drawing together in a frown of regret.

As Juao bowed to her and moved toward the front of the boat, Caroline clung to one of the poles that held the awning in place. The boat pitched in the suddenly violent river. She could barely see in front of her now, and the savage pounding of the rain and the stench of sodden leaves and earth ravaged her senses, causing her to yearn for the safety of her rooms at the fazenda.

A fierce shudder ripped through the small boat, and to Caroline's horror, it began listing to the left, leaning so far in that direction that she nearly fell over the side.

She screamed as the pole she'd been clinging to snapped in half, but the sound died unheard in the roaring tempest. The deck fell away, vanishing from beneath her feet, and she was falling, tumbling through an infinite void just before a blow to her head rendered her senseless and the world went black.

#####

Jason pushed the door to Caroline's sitting room open and gazed around with a deep, ragged sigh. He didn't even have to cross the threshold to know that she'd gone. He could feel it in the stillness of the room. It was worse than the first time because his feelings for her had grown tenfold.

He'd miss her, damn how he'd miss her. He'd even miss the arguments, her constant probing, her infuriating belief that she could mend every problem, right every wrong. He'd miss her every day of his life.

Walking through the doorway, he gazed around him at the wilted orchids on the table across the room, the windows left open, the tidiness of the room. It was almost as if she hadn't been here at all, but his heart knew better.

Sadness tightened his throat and he swallowed against it, running a hand through his hair as he tried to convince himself that it was for the best, that it was what he'd wanted all along. He'd kept his privacy intact, his damned secrets undiscovered. Now they were all he had to keep him company, and his heart ached at the prospect of a lifetime of regret.

He couldn't forget the day at the beneficio, the day she'd finally encountered his true nature. In the weeks that followed, she'd avoided him, staying in her room as much as possible, even taking her meals there in order not to have to look at him or be in the same room with him.

She'd thought she understood him and the life he'd led, but she was terribly innocent in some ways. She'd been shielded from much of the ugliness of life. There were things she couldn't even imagine, things he'd wanted to protect her from. But how could he protect her from anything when she needed protection from him most of all?

Closing his eyes, he shuddered as a torrent of self- loathing swept over him. He flexed his knuckles. They still pained him, and it was only fitting that he should have that reminder of how he had almost lost control.

She'd done the only thing she could do under the circumstances. She'd accepted defeat.. She'd run away. He just prayed God she'd stay in Manaus until the baby was born instead of trying to make it all the way back to New Orleans. Time was running out.

His gut twisted as he realized he might never see his own child, his own flesh and blood. And though he knew it was better this way, the pain persisted. Caroline would take care of him. She'd provide a loving home. He would provide financial support for them through Derek. It was the least he could do and the only thing he had to offer anyway.

The irony of it was this was what he'd thought he wanted—a marriage in name only, a son who would one day be heir to everything he'd built..

The loud, piercing blast of a steam whistle rent the still afternoon air, and a thrill trembled through Jason's body, his first thought that the mail boat had turned around and come back. But as soon as his rational mind asserted itself, he realized that it must be Ignacio returning from his mission to Manaus. The mail boat had stopped only briefly yesterday afternoon. It would be miles downriver by now.

Steeling himself against the pain that pierced his heart, he left the empty sitting room, closing the door behind him.

"This is Senhor Deiras," Ignacio said, and Jason shook hands with the slight, bespectacled man who stepped from the boat.

The smaller man's hand trembled noticeably, and Jason wondered at the cause of his unease. "Welcome," he said with a smile, trying to reassure the nervous little man who clasped his battered hat to his chest as if it were a lifeline.

Ignacio smiled. "I'm afraid he's still a little shaken by the storm we went through yesterday afternoon. Traveling the river in the rainy season can be deadly, as you know."

A shudder of apprehension sliced through Jason as he thought of Caroline on the river. He hadn't allowed himself to dwell on the dangers of traveling at this time of year, but they were very real. Sudden, violent storms could produce ten foot swells and near gale force winds.

"We had to wait the storm out in an Indian hut," Ignacio went on. "I thought the wind would blow the roof off."

"Well," Jason said, forcing a smile, "at least no one was hurt."

"No," Ignacio agreed, "but I'm afraid the mail boat wasn't so fortunate."

The blood pounded loudly in Jason's head as he stood stiff as a statue, listening to Ignacio's news. Panic, raw and bitter, rose in his throat. "What happened?"

"For several miles, we passed the debris. And as we reached a bend in the river, we saw the rescue party drag the captain and his mate out of the river." Ignacio finished by making the sign of the cross over his chest.

"Two bodies?" Jason asked, barely able to speak past his rasping breath.

"Sim, patrao," Ignacio replied, his brow furrowing in concern. "You are very pale, patrao, is anything wrong?"

"Survivors?" he choked out.

Ignacio shook his head negatively. "You know Capitao Polonia seldom took passengers. I suspect there was no.... Patrao, where are you going?"

Jason leaped onto the small steamboat as his men unloaded the last of the cargo and luggage from its hold. "Untie the ropes!" he shouted.

"But patrao...."

"Do as I say, damn you!" Jason bellowed, ignoring Ignacio's confusion. His men obeyed and the boat floated free of the pier. Thank God, they hadn't cut the engines yet or it might have taken an hour to get them hot again.

"Patrao!" Ignacio shouted from the quickly receding shore, "where are you going?"

"Where did they find the bodies?" Jason asked, trying to quell the paroxysm of terror inside him. Caroline's life might well depend on it—on him.

"About thirty miles downriver! But where... !"

"Caroline was on that boat!" The words, spoken aloud, made the terror all too real.

Ignacio ran to the edge of the pier. "Come back! I will go with you!"

"There's no time!" Jason called. "I need you here! If I'm not back by morning, send a party after me!"

"Be careful!" Ignacio shouted, his words carried away by the breeze that ruffled Jason's damp hair.

Caroline, Caroline, he thought desperately. Please be all right. Maybe she hadn't gotten on the mail boat. She'd tricked him before. Maybe she was hiding somewhere in the jungle. Maybe she'd gone back to the slave village. Dear God, she had to be all right.

#####

Caroline tried to move her left arm, and a numbing pain shot through her body. Broken. Useless. Tears sprang to her eyes as she stretched out her right arm and grabbed hold of a sturdy-looking root just above her head. She'd given up wondering how she'd come to be here on the muddy bank, and now all her thoughts were concentrated on getting to safety. She could feel the river lapping steadily at her ankles and knew she had to get to higher ground before another storm crashed down on her.

She tried not to think of the snakes and alligators and flesh-eating fish that populated the Amazon, lest she give in to the consuming fear that lurked close to the edge of her mind, waiting for the chance to devour her.

The soft, cloying bank beneath her clung to her skirt, dragging her down, making it nearly impossible to move in her weakened state. She wanted to cry, to lie there and give up. She had no idea how badly injured she might be; only that her head throbbed and her left arm was broken—and the baby hadn't moved since she'd regained consciousness.

A sob tore from her throat as she pulled desperately at the root, moving slightly up the bank and settling in a new position only inches higher than she'd started out. The effort drained her strength and cost her dearly in terms of pain.

Gasping for air, she lay there for a minute. Just a minute. She had to rest, to re-gather her strength and her will to go on. Closing her eyes, she'd almost succumbed to the weariness that enveloped her like a heavy cloak when a tearing, searing pain exploded deep inside her belly, wrenching a groan from her and leaving her even more breathless in its wake.

"Not now," she murmured. "Please God, not now. It's too early. I... I can't...."

Grasping at the soft earth, Caroline tried again to pull herself up the bank, but there was nothing solid to hold on to, nothing but soft, loose mud. She tried to crawl, but that only caused her more pain when she fell helplessly onto her injured arm.

Exhausted, she lay still, her head reeling, nausea rising in her throat. It was so hot, so humid, she could hardly breathe. Life pulsed through the jungle around her. Bird songs and the chattering of monkeys in the trees filled her ears, as hungry insects whirred around her. She didn't even have the strength to swat at them but endured their frequent bites. At least the stinging sensation affirmed that she was alive and not in hell.

Without volition, she began to pant rapidly, deeply, as another pain swelled inside her, gathering strength before breaking over her brittle body with a vengeance.

How far apart had they been? She strained to concentrate, to calculate, but every minute seemed an eternity here in this isolated, savage place. How could she be sure of anything?

"Not now. Please, not now," she gasped as a silken darkness overwhelmed her and she surrendered to a painless nothingness.

"Caroline!" Jason called, cupping his hands over his mouth.

His frantic gaze swept the banks of the river for any sign of her, but nothing met his eyes, nothing but green and brown jungle. On his journey down the river, he'd passed pieces of floating debris left by the wrecked mail boat, and his urgency had increased to the point of unremitting panic.

She had to be all right. If anything had happened to her, he'd never forgive himself. It was all his fault, his fault. Where could she be?

In his desperate search of the shoreline, he'd refused to allow himself to search the river itself, refused to entertain the idea that what he might find instead of his frightened, bruised but indomitable wife was a lifeless body skimming the surface of the river. He couldn't even allow himself to contemplate it or he would go mad.

"Caroline!" he called again, desperation raising his voice.

The engines chugged softly. He'd cut them as low as he dared so that he could hear any response, but none came. Gazing at the heavens, he realized that he didn't have much daylight left. He had to find her before nightfall. If she had survived last night, she would be frightened and hungry and possibly injured. Could she endure another?

"Caroline!" he called again.

Maybe she was afraid of him. Maybe she heard his voice but feared him more than she did being alone in the jungle.

"Please answer me," he murmured. "I... I'm sorry."

Jason's ears perked at a chilling sound, a shiver trembling down his spine at its stark, piercing quality. At first he thought it must be a monkey. They could sound amazingly human, but the scream came again, inhuman yet somehow human at the same time. A scream of agony.

"Caroline!" he called, steering the boat toward the sound, toward the right bank.

Desperately he searched the shadows for a sign of life. How could he find her when he could hardly make out the shore at all? In the last few minutes, the sun had dipped dramatically, lengthening and deepening the shadows that clung to the bank. The way voices carried on the river, she could be anywhere within a five-mile radius, but she was alive!

His heart raced with jubilation and alarm. She was alive, but if he couldn't find her.... Something had caused that blood-curdling scream. Whether a scream of pain or terror, something had caused that agonized, terrified cry.

"Caroline!" he called frantically. "Answer me!"

Something moved, something white, brilliant in the waning sunlight. Quickly he turned the wheel, intent on returning to that spot, but the current carried him several yards downriver before he could turn the vessel. Hugging the bank, he moved slowly back upriver in the direction of the apparition. Maybe it had been nothing more than a shadow or an animal approaching the river to drink.

There it was again!

Jason rammed the boat into the bank. Cutting the engines, he jumped from the deck and quickly tied a rope to a sturdy-looking tree. His every sense urged him to rush to her, to forget about the boat and find her, but he knew that if the boat floated free of the bank, they'd be trapped here, and from the sound of her scream, she might need immediate medical attention.

The boat secure, he ran toward the place where he'd seen movement. His heart froze in his throat. "Caroline!"

She lay on her side, her body covered with mud—still, silent. He rushed to her, silently praying that she was still alive as he knelt beside her and rolled her gently onto her back.

She screamed and Jason released her, a cold terror crawling up his spine. It was then that he noticed her twisted left arm and tried again, careful to avoid the injured appendage. She was panting, her eyes only half-open.

"Jason!" she breathed. "Jason!"

"I'm here."

He nearly gasped aloud at the sight of blood covering the front of her soiled skirt. His pulse racing in alarm, he pulled her against him, cradling her head and shoulders in his arms. How badly was she hurt? Had she survived the boat wreck and what must have been a harrowing night alone, injured and terrified in the jungle, only to bleed to death in his arms?

"Where else are you hurt?" he asked, forcing the raw emotion from his voice, not wanting to frighten her. She was in shock, he knew, and she might not realize how badly she was bleeding.

"The baby," she murmured. "The baby, Jason."

Her body stiffened and she began to pant, groaning low in her throat. When she was able to speak again, she gasped, "Jason, oh, Jason, my water broke! Oh, Jason, I'm so afraid!"

That explained the blood, he realized with short-lived relief. She wasn't cut anywhere; she wouldn't bleed to death, but the baby was coming—now.

"I'm here," he said soothingly, trying to sound calm when an overwhelming urgency pounded inside him. He had to get her to safety. He had to... to... God, he was going to have to deliver the baby. "How long has it been since your water broke?"

"Oh Jason, I don't know!" Her head rolled from side to side as she tried to do something, anything, to distract herself from the pain that would envelop her again in a few minutes—or was it seconds? She wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of anything right now except that if Jason let go of her, the pain and darkness would devour her.

"Try to think," he said gently. They were a long way from the fazenda. He had no way of knowing if there was shelter close by. The boat would have to do.

"I don't know!" she cried. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Jason. It's my fault. The baby... the baby... it's too soon. I shouldn't have left. I'm sorry."

Careful to hold her injured arm steady, Jason pulled her limp body into his arms and stood. She gasped, clinging to him with her right arm wrapped tightly around his neck.

"What are you sorry for, Caroline?" he asked as he carried her toward the boat. "I'm the one who drove you away. Don't talk foolishness. I'm the one who's sorry."

"I'm sorry," she murmured, resting her head against his shoulder, sending a sharp, painful surge of protectiveness through him.

Blinking his eyes against unexpected tears, he whispered, "I won't let anything happen to you, Caroline. I swear it before God. I won't let anything happen to you or the baby."