Beverly Barton - Guarding Jeannie

He had not allowed Elizabeth to tell him any more of what she'd seen in his future. He hadn't wanted to know, and he still didn't want to know. He felt unworthy, undeserving of being loved by Jeannie. Didn't she know the kind of man he was, the type of life he'd lived? Of course she knew. She even knew he'd been responsible for the death of his unborn child. And yet she loved him.

* * *

Jeannie slept the day away, waking with a ravenous appetite for both food and Sam. He made slow, tender love to her, and she blossomed under his loving care, seeming to gain strength from their physical joining. Later he prepared hearty salads, serving them with wine and bread. They ate in the garden again, isolated from the world, nestled in their own tiny piece of paradise. After dinner, she asked him about the morning's events, and he told her everything he knew.

"Don't ever run away by yourself again, the way you did this morning," he said. "I died a thousand deaths when I saw you drive off and knew I couldn't stop you."

"How did you figure out where I'd gone? And how did you know Reeves was at the school?"

"I knew something Marta had said must have triggered your actions." Tilting his head to one side, Sam rested his cheek against the top of her head. "When I phoned the school and spoke to Marta, I could tell something was wrong. She was acting strange. I put two and two together and figured Reeves was involved."

"I know it was foolish of me to go alone to the school." She covered his hands, which lay across her stomach, with her own. Would Sam ever have forgiven her, or himself, if Reeves had killed her and, in doing so, destroyed their unborn child? "I couldn't let Maynard Reeves hurt the students. I did what I had to do. Please understand."

"I understand." He hugged her, encompassing her in his embrace, wishing he could absorb her into himself and keep her safe. "You don't have the capacity to put your needs before those of others. You give and give and give, no matter what the cost is to you."

"You would do the same." Tilting her face, she reached up and kissed him, wanting him to look inside himself and see the truth.

"Not me," he said. "I'm not as strong as you are, angel. I don't have your guts. Besides, the powers that be knew I was the last person on earth who should have the ability to heal the suffering of others. I don't even know how to love."

"That's where you're wrong. You have a great capacity to love. But before you can use that wellspring of goodness inside you, you must come to terms with all the negative feelings keeping that love trapped."

"Oh, Jeannie you don't know me."

"I know you better than you know yourself," she said. "I'm a part of your soul, as you are mine."

He had no response to her statement. Intense emotion gripped him, holding him captive. Jeannie saw the best in him, sensing a goodness he could not see. Dear God, was he worthy of the trust she placed in him? Could he be the man she thought he was, the man she expected him to be? Or would he let her down?

* * *

When Lieutenant Painter arrived at eight-thirty that night, he found Sam and Jeannie watching the weather channel on television. The depression that had begun near the Cape Verde Islands, off the coast of Africa, had moved into the Caribbean and was building up speed and intensity. A tropical storm with high winds and heavy rain was expected to hit the islands southeast of the Gulf by early morning.

"Come on in." Sam opened the door and led the lieutenant into the living room. "Jeannie's concerned about the tropical storm headed our way. She has a close friend living on one of the islands in the gulf."

"Yeah, I hear they think this thing has a good chance of turning into a full-fledged hurricane before she hits the coast." Painter nodded at Jeannie when she glanced up from the television and smiled at him.

"Give me just a moment, Lieutenant," Jeannie said. "I'd like to hear the rest of this report from the National Hurricane Center. I've already contacted my friend to make sure he's aware of the storm headed his way, but I want to stay updated on what's happening."

"Sure. I can wait," Painter said.

When the report ended several minutes later, Jeannie switched off the set and turned to the police officer. "Thank you for being so patient. Sam has told me that you arrested Danette Suddath and the other woman."

"Nora Dill. Yes, we arrested them. But members of the Righteous Light Church posted bond for them, and they're out on bail until their trials."

"Missy hasn't been given to her mother, has she?"

"No." Sam walked over and stood behind Jeannie's chair, placing his hand on her shoulder.

"Social services will place Missy in a foster home until after her mother's trial," Lieutenant Painter said. "And she'll remain in one if—or should I say when—Danette Suddath is found guilty and sent to prison."

"Y'all haven't found Maynard Reeves, have you?" Jeannie reached up, placing her hand atop Sam's on her shoulder.

"I swear, Ms. Alverson, it's as if the man vanished off the face of the earth." Shrugging, Lieutenant Painter shook his head. "The best we can figure it, he must have left Biloxi by boat. Since his church is headquartered in New Orleans, the authorities there have been alerted. The feds have pretty well taken over this case, but we're working with them."

"Too bad someone in his organization isn't willing to turn him in," Sam said. "It amazes me how gullible some people are."

"None of his followers will betray him." Jeannie patted Sam's hand. "People want to believe in something, in a higher power, and that's why they can sometimes be brainwashed by a charismatic leader like Reverend Reeves. He feeds on their fears and prejudices, teaching them hatred and intolerance."

"I want you to know, Ms. Alverson that we've posted a man at the hospital to guard Dr. Howell, and one at the school to make sure the children are safe. And even though you're well taken care of—" Rufus Painter glanced at Sam "—we're sending a patrol around the block here every hour."

Jeannie clasped Lieutenant Painter's hand. "Thank you for all you've done."

Painter grinned; it was a lopsided, boyish grin. "Yes, ma'am. You're entirely welcome. Just wish we could have done more."

"I believe we have some business to take care of, don't we, Lieutenant?" Jeannie asked.

Hushing, Painter cleared his throat. "Yes, ma'am, we do. I've got someone outside ready to take your statement concerning the events at the Howell School this morning."

"Are you sure you're up to this?" Sam moved around to the side of her chair, placing his hand on her arm.

"Yes," she said. "I have to do all that I can to help remove Maynard Reeves from society, to put him away where he can't harm anyone."

After the police left, Jeannie tuned in the weather channel for an update on the tropical storm, then contacted Manton again before she and Sam went to bed.

As they lay together, the room dark and quiet except for the moonlight filtering through the curtains and the hum of traffic a few blocks away on the highway, Sam held Jeannie in his arms.

"Stop worrying," Sam said. "You told me Manton has weathered storms, and even a few hurricanes, on Le Bijou Bleu."

"I know. But I can't help worrying." Jeannie kissed Sam's naked shoulder. "He's assured me the storm shelter is stocked with the basic necessities to last several days."

"Manton will be all right. The man has a sixth sense about things. If the storm hits the island, he'll wait it out in the storm shelter."

"Sam?" She lifted her head off his shoulder and looked down into his blue-gray eyes.

"What is it, angel?" He rubbed his hand up and down her arm, from shoulder to wrist.

"I have an uneasy feeling I can't explain. I'm afraid, Sam. I'm so very, very afraid."