Delia's Gift (Delia 3) - Page 101


“Who’s that with you?”

“My cousin Edward,” I said as he drew closer to us.

He paused and stared. “What’s with the blackened faces?” Before either of us could reply, he continued. “Teresa told me you were told to leave the house and property,” he said, “and leave your baby behind.”

“Look,” Edward began, “we—”

Gerry Sommer put up his hand before Edward could try to explain anything and turned back to me.

“You walked through the canyon to get here?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Sounds like Amigo knows you’re here.” He nodded and looked toward the hacienda. “Well, it’s a nice night for a walk.”

He turned off his flashlight and started back to his trailer.

“You think he’s going to call security?” Edward asked.

“No. Amigo wouldn’t let him,” I said.


I smiled and shook my head. We walked on toward the hacienda. I remembered that the rear door into the pantry was never locked. Locking up the hacienda was never a major concern because of the security at the gate and the walls around three-quarters of the property. I hesitated at the door, half hoping it had been locked and we couldn’t get into the house.

“We can do this,” Edward whispered, seeing my hesitation. “We can.”

I took a deep breath and turned the handle. The door was not locked. We slipped in quietly and closed the door softly. I led him through the pantry, through the kitchen, and down the hallway toward the stairway. As usual, there was some dim lighting throughout. We paused when we faced the stairway and listened. The house was very quiet.

Edward looked at me, because I stopped moving. I was frozen with fear.

“Go on, Delia. We can do this,” he whispered.

I started for the stairway. We climbed so slowly that it gave me the feeling the stairway was growing longer with every step we took. When we reached the top, we stopped to listen again. I had already explained where Mrs. Newell slept and where Adan Jr. was. Señor Bovio was all the way down the other side of the hallway.

We crossed the hallway and stopped. Mrs. Newell’s bedroom door was open, as was Adan Jr.’s. She could be in there with him, I thought. There was only one way to find out. Edward nodded as if he could hear my thoughts and worries, and we started down the hallway with our backs against the wall, sliding, staying as close as we could to any shadows. When we reached Mrs. Newell’s door, we paused, and I slowly peered around the jamb. She slept with a night-light. I could see her in her bed, sleeping on her back. I nodded at Edward. He took his position on the other side of her doorway to watch her as I continued a few feet to Adan Jr.’s bedroom.

Then, taking a breath like someone going underwater, I entered the nursery.

My baby was moving but not crying. When I approached the crib and looked down, I saw he had his eyes open. He looked much larger and longer to me. His little arms moved excitedly. Before he could cry out, I reached in and brought him and his blanket out of the crib, cradling him softly in my arms. I knew he was about to cry, so I opened my blouse and quickly brought the nipple of my breast to his lips. While he suckled, I moved quietly out of the room.

Edward glanced at me, looked back into Mrs. Newell’s bedroom, and nodded. I crossed quickly, and he followed. The three of us seemingly floated down the stairway. I had to move slower so that Adan Jr. could feed and not be upset by our movements. It was as if he knew he had to be silent. We turned at the bottom of the stairway and quickly moved down the hall back to the kitchen and out the pantry. Neither Edward nor I spoke until we were well away from the house. Then he stopped to look at Adan Jr.

“I’d say he’s with the one he wants to be with,” Edward told me.

We walked toward the stable as quickly as we could. It was late, and I was tired, but I was so full of excitement and happiness, I thought I could fly if it became necessary. Never once did I even consider the possible consequences for either of us.

Edward paused when I fell a little behind him. “I can help carry him if you want,” he said.

“Oh, no. I’m fine,” I said, and he laughed.

“I doubt that you’ll ever let go of him again.”

“Me, too,” I said. “He’s perfect.”

“Well, just take it easy. You have a long way back,” he warned.

Tags: V.C. Andrews Delia Horror
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