He bowed his head over his clasped hands, fighting the sting of tears. He could barely comprehend the physical tortures she had endured, much less the emotional pain of having her son taken from her.
“For a few minutes after Matteo was born, every bit of suffering seemed worth it—just to hold my baby at last. But then he was taken from me without my consent, and suddenly nothing mattered anymore.”
In addition to that devastating loss, Olivia might not be able to have any more children. Darius didn’t know how she even managed to carry on. And now she was denying herself the family she so richly deserved.
Sure, he’d be thrilled to have more children, but if Sofia was the only child he was blessed with, he would be content with that. And if he could have Olivia as his wife, he’d consider himself the luckiest man ever.
“But your will not mine be done, Lord,” he whispered. “If I’m not the man who can make Olivia happy, then let me accept that. The only thing that matters is her peace and happiness, and if I can help in any way, please show me how. Amen.”
He knelt there for several more minutes until a measure of calm settled in his soul. The peace that only prayer could bring. Now that he’d taken his problems to the Lord, he felt certain an answer would be forthcoming.
What that answer would look like, he had no idea. But he trusted God’s plan implicitly.
Outside on the steps of the church, Darius breathed in the crisp air and listened for the faint peal of bells in the distance. He’d always loved hearing St. Michael’s bells, even as a child.
As he made his way to the car, his thoughts turned to Olivia’s brother. Didn’t he say he worked at the cathedral?
Darius stopped dead, his mind whirling. One of the things that continued to haunt Olivia was the loss of her son. Would knowing what had become of him ease her pain in any way? Darius had resigned himself to the fact that there was nothing he could do to fix the situation. But now, as the bells rang out over the city, a new thought dawned. If anyone might be able to help, it was Salvatore Rosetti. A trusted clergyman and family member.
At the very least, it was worth a try.
Before he could change his mind, Darius turned on his heel and headed toward St. Michael’s, hoping he wasn’t about to make a very big mistake.
Ruth looked around the sunroom at the expectant faces watching her. Calling a meeting on a Sunday morning was out of the ordinary, and an atmosphere of uncertainty permeated the room.
The last time they’d been all together here had been for an evening of fun. Everyone had laughed and sang and drank punch, enjoying the festivities and managing to set aside any thoughts regarding the future of Bennington Place.
But now, as much as Ruth hated to be the bearer of bad news, the residents deserved to be warned. After speaking with Jenny last night and getting her permission to tell the others a bit of her story, Ruth was ready.
“Good morning, ladies. I won’t take too much of your time, but a situation has arisen that we feel you should be aware of.”
A murmur went around the room. Cherise and Margaret each held their babies. Jenny sat somewhat removed from the group, as though her mere presence might taint the rest. Olivia, Monica, Patricia, and Nancy filled out the circle of chairs near the windows. Outside, dark clouds still blocked the sun, casting a gloomy pall over the gathering.
“Is it the finances again?” Cherise asked. “Because the girls and I have been talking and we don’t mind contributing something toward our keep.”
“That’s very generous of you, Cherise. We will discuss business in a minute, but this is a more personal issue. One that concerns our safety.”
“Are the protestors back? I didn’t hear any commotion out there.” Margaret patted little Calvin’s back protectively.
“It’s not the protestors.” Ruth glanced over at Jenny, who stared at the floor. “Jenny’s husband has found out where she’s staying. He showed up here last night, and although Olivia managed to get him to leave, he made it clear he’d be back.”
An uneasy silence followed as the women exchanged worried looks.
“Why the concern? Is he dangerous?” Patricia gave Jenny a pointed stare.
Jenny only shrugged, her gaze darting back to the floor.
“He’s been known to be violent.” Ruth didn’t wish to say anything more. She’d promised Jenny to reveal only what was absolutely necessary, but the women needed to be aware that the man wasn’t to be trifled with. Ruth cleared her throat. “So I’m asking all of you to be extra diligent. Make sure the doors and windows on the main floor are locked at all times. If you hear anyone outside, please alert either myself or Olivia, or simply call the police.”
“I’m sorry to put you in this position,” Jenny whispered. “But I had nowhere else to go. I was afraid he’d hurt the baby.” She laid a protective hand over the swell of her stomach, tears rolling silently down her face.
Olivia went to put an arm around Jenny’s shoulders. “It’s not your fault. That’s why we’re here, why Bennington Place exists. To provide a safe place for women who need it.” She looked around at the other residents. “We all need to stick together to protect one another.”
“Olivia’s right. Can we count on all of you?” Ruth raised her brows and looked around the room.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Of course.”
“We’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Excellent.” Ruth gave an approving nod. “Now, to discuss other matters. You mentioned finances, Cherise. Happily, we’ve had a few sizable donations come in, which should be enough to cover our roof repairs. However, the reality
