'Don't you see, the child could have been mine? I didn't have any idea she was pregnant. After I woke up in the Biloxi hospital, I found out about her being pregnant from another agent who'd been sent in to wrap up the case. Connie was two months pregnant. That baby—' he clutched Jeannie's hands, holding them between their bodies '—was probably mine.'
'Say it!' Jeannie cried the tears Sam could not shed. The pain eased from him; she took it upon herself.
'It's my fault that child was never born. I'm responsible for the death of my own child!'
A heavy weight of guilt lifted from Sam. Pain and grief cleared from his heart and soul. He breathed deeply, drawing fresh air into his lungs, cleaning out the dark, dank recesses of his heart, allowing, his soul a brief hint of reprieve.
At sunset, Jeannie sat in Sam's lap on the beach, cocooned in the security of his strong arms. Sam held her, never wanting to let her go.
'The grief and the guilt will always be there,' she said. 'You know that, don't you? But now that you've faced them, you can learn to deal with them.'
'I can't change the past.'
'No, but you must learn to live with it.'
'I wasn't in love with Connie, and she wasn't in love with me. She'd just broken off with another guy, and I knew he was still around.'
'The child could have been his or yours, and you'll never know.' Jeannie took Sam's hand and laid it on her stomach, covering his hand with hers. 'But the guilt is the same, because there's a good chance the child was yours.'
'If I hadn't let my… I knew better. I screwed up and it cost two … three people's lives.'
'The only way to atone for that mistake is to make the most of
'I don't know if there's any love in me,' he said.
'You love Elizabeth and her child.' Jeannie leaned back, letting her head rest on his shoulder. 'I know there's more love inside you, if you'll only release it. But no one else can do that for you, Sam. Not even me.'
No, not even Jeannie, sweet, angelic Jeannie, could save him. Hell, he wasn't sure he wanted to be saved. He had become accustomed to his guilt and remorse. To the pain. And the price of salvation was too high. If a man didn't care too much, he didn't put his emotions on the line. If caring for others to the extent Jeannie cared, and being willing to open himself up to his deepest emotions, was the only recourse, Sam knew he was damned. Jeannie Alverson was expecting too much from him. He could never be the man she wanted or needed.
Turning in his arms quickly, Jeannie kissed him. A tender, loving kiss. 'It's all right. I'm not asking for more than you can give.' She caressed his cheek, knowing in her heart that her words were a lie. She wanted Sam Dundee. All of him. His body. His heart. His mind. His very soul. And she wanted him forever. But he hadn't promised her forever. All they had was today.
* * *
The ringing telephone awoke them before dawn. Within minutes, Manton knocked softly on Jeannie's bedroom door.
'Something's wrong.' Jeannie sat upright, the pastel floral sheet sliding off her naked breasts to rest at her waist. 'We've received a fax from the mainland.'
Sam slipped into his shorts and stepped out into the hallway. Manton handed him the faxed communication. Scanning the message quickly, Sam groaned. His stomach muscles tightened. Hell! He wished he didn't have to tell Jeannie. There would be no way to keep her on the island once she knew what had happened.
'I'll tell her.' Sam looked directly at Manton so that the big man could read his lips.
Manton nodded, then signed to Sam. In the three weeks they'd been on the island, Sam had tried to learn a few basic words in sign. The best he could make out, Manton was saying he'd prepare some coffee and would bring it to them.
Jeannie pulled her pastel yellow gown over her head, lifting her body to ease the silky material down her hips. Swinging her legs off the side of the bed, she looked up at Sam when he returned with the fax message in his hand.
'It's Julian. What's happened? Did Maynard Reeves—? Oh, no, it's Julian's heart.'
Sitting on the edge of the bed beside her, Sam took her hands in his. 'Julian's had a heart attack. He's in intensive care. The fax is from Marta. She's with him.'
'I've got to get to Biloxi.' She squeezed Sam's hands. 'Julian needs me. No one else can help him the way I can.'
'Maynard Reeves still poses as much of a threat to you as he ever did. If you return to Biloxi, you'll be in danger.'
'I know that.' She bowed her head, praying silently.
'The doctors will take care of Julian. If they can't save his life, then there's nothing you can do.'
She snapped her head up, glaring at Sam. 'I'm going back to Biloxi. If Julian dies, I want to be there with him. And if he lives, I can help.'
Sam wondered why he had even tried to reason with Jeannie. Why couldn't he just accept the fact that her compassionate heart would always win any battle against logic? For there was no logic to Jeannie's powers, no reasonable explanation. Somehow she had been blessed, or perhaps she'd been cursed, with the ability to truly bestow loving kindness on others. He, of all people, knew what it meant to be the recipient of her tender mercy.
Sam nodded. Jeannie's glare softened to a gentle stare. 'I'll take care of Julian,' she said. 'And you will take care of me.'
He kissed her on the forehead. 'I'll take good care of you.' Standing, he helped her to her feet and into her silk robe, then handed her a cane. 'Manton's fixing coffee.'
'I'm sorry our days in paradise have to come to an end,' Jeannie said, looking at him lovingly.
'Anywhere I am with you is paradise. Don't you know that?'
Manton knocked on the door, then came in carrying a tray, which he placed on Jeannie's desk, an antique of white-painted wood, with a sailing ship surrounded by a circle of roses stenciled on the back. He poured Jeannie a cup, placing cream and sugar in the coffee, then handed it to her. He poured another cup and handed the black liquid to Sam.
Immediately he signed to Sam, looking to Jeannie to translate whatever wasn't immediately understood.
'He wants you to keep me safe,' Jeannie said. 'He senses danger for both of us. He doesn't want us to leave the island, but he understands that we must.'
Jeannie patted Manton's enormous hand, then lifted it to her lips and kissed it. 'We'll come back to Le Bijou Bleu as soon as Julian is well.' She glanced over at Sam. 'Won't we?'
Sam nodded agreement, but he wasn't sure he'd ever return to this island. Once they were back in Biloxi, he would have to deal with Maynard Reeves. After three weeks of searching for any type of evidence that would warrant Reeves's arrest, the local and federal authorities still had nothing concrete. Reeves was still a free man, waiting for Jeannie Alverson to come out of hiding.
* * *
Marta McCorkle kissed Julian's pale cheek, then thanked the young nurse who stood by his bedside. She walked out of the ICU unit and right past the man who stood with his back to her. Maynard Reeves had been told of Julian's heart attack by a Righteous Light disciple, a hospital janitor who'd been working when the medics rushed Julian into the emergency room.
Maynard had been waiting patiently for Marta McCorkle to leave the ICU. All he needed was a few moments alone with Julian Howell. For twenty days, he had tried by every method possible to discover Jeannie Alverson's whereabouts. Dundee had taken her away, was hiding her, keeping her safe. Maynard knew his only hope of finding Jeannie was to get the information from the one person who would know where she was. Julian Howell. But he hadn't been able to get anywhere near Dr. Howell, and making a psychic link with someone he couldn't touch was beyond his capabilities.
No one, except Jeannie and his old friend Wayland Krenshaw, knew he was psychic. Wayland was his right- hand man, a trusted deacon in the church they had founded together. But Jeannie was his enemy. She had refused
