To feel the warmth and strength of someone’s arms around her. But the tightness in her chest was spreading. Sobs rose up in her throat.
She’d just witnessed something very precious. Hasana’s husband was grieving for his son as much as she was. He’d held his hands out for his son without hesitation and had looked at him with such tenderness it had broken her heart.
Her daughter had never had that. A father’s love. A father to grieve over her. Blane had sent her a simple card when he’d heard the news. He hadn’t been there to see how precious their daughter had been. How perfect. How beautiful.
He hadn’t touched her little cheek or held her close to his chest.
Not the way Hasana’s husband had for their son.
And it hurt. Just when she thought she was moving on, she realized there was something else to regret about her daughter’s birth.
Evan lifted her chin so she faced him. His eyes were looking straight at her, illuminated by the torchlight around them. His blue eyes were dark, with the gold flecks standing out in the dim light. There was intensity about them she’d never seen before.
And even though she could see a hundred questions in his eyes he didn’t hesitate—he pulled her into his arms and just held her. Held her as if he’d never let her go.
It was as if he knew, for those few seconds, exactly what she needed.
They stood in the darkness like that for a few minutes. She could feel his strong heartbeat beneath his chest. It slowed her and steadied her. Gave her room to breathe. The comfort from his arms felt like the warmest blanket she’d ever been wrapped in.
She wasn’t alone in the forest anymore.
His lips brushed the side of her cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me, Violet?” he whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me about your baby?”
The words caught in her throat. How could he know? How could he know how raw she was feeling? How much she had pent up inside her?
Every muscle in her body was tensed, every hair standing on end.
He looked hurt. He looked upset.
“How, Evan? How can you know that? I haven’t told anyone.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t need you to tell me, Violet.” He ran his finger down her cheek. “It was right here for me to see. I just needed to notice the signs.”
The words hung between them and Violet sucked in a breath. She couldn’t stand the tension. “What about Urbi, the midwife? How is she? Did they hurt her?” She couldn’t stand the thought of that. She couldn’t stand the thought they might have hurt the woman who had tried to warn her. Tried to save her.
Evan shook his head. The obvious change of subject must have hurt him. “She’ll need some stitches. But she’ll be fine. Luke is taking care of her.”
The men started to move, to organize themselves to help carry Hasana back to the village. Her husband still stood with his baby in his arms, his head held high.
Evan pulled Violet over to one side. He kept his arm around her. “I don’t understand Violet. I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me. It’s such a huge part of your life—so important. Why couldn’t you share that with me?”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t, Evan. I haven’t even told my family.”
He looked horrified. “What?”
“You don’t understand. My mom and stepdad are just so frail. After what happened with Sawyer...” Her voice tailed off and she shook her head again. “Blane and I had decided to split up. I was doing it on my own. They would have been worried sick. And Sawyer, I didn’t know how to contact him.”
“I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you had to do this alone. You had no one with you?”
“I had a few close girl friends. They were fantastic. I couldn’t have asked for more.”
“Yes. Yes, you could. You could have asked for a whole lot more.” There was an edge of irritation to his voice. Frustration about a situation he’d had no control over.
She sighed. “Nothing like that was meant to happen to me. I hadn’t even considered it. I’d had a fairly easy pregnancy and expected to have my baby then let my mom and stepdad know. They would have been delighted. A grandchild would have been the joy to help heal their wound.” She couldn’t help the wistful tone in her voice.
She’d been hoping for salvation for her family—a new start for them all.
All she’d been left with had been a dark, heart-wrenching hole.
The villagers started to move past them. And they had to follow or be left behind in the forest.
Evan reached down and intertwined his fingers with hers. “There’s so much I want to ask you, Violet, but this just doesn’t seem like the time or the place.” He stretched his other arm in front of them. “We’ve got a long walk ahead. I want you to tell me. I want you to tell me about your baby.”
There was such a calm and determined manner about his words. He made it sound so simple. It was like an open invitation. An open invitation to share her daughter with someone else.
It seemed huge. It seemed enormous. No one had ever asked about her daughter before. How could they, when they hadn’t known?
She’d thought she’d put this behind her.
But she’d left the most crucial part of her healing out.
The ability to share.
To share the joy and pain of her daughter.
And now she finally could.
* * *
They walked for a long time. She held up her head as they walked through the dark night. She had the strangest feeling around her.
Relief.
Relief to finally talk about her daughter. Yes, she’d spoken with the doctors and the coroner. Yes, she’d spoken with her friends. But her circle of friends had been so small that after a time she’d felt as if she’d had to stop.
This was entirely different. This was a chance to share with someone she cared about.
Loved.
The word shot out of the dark like a bullet to the brain.
Love? Was that how she really felt about Evan?
He was the first thing she thought about in the morning and the last thing in her dreams at night.
She spent the whole day waiting to see his smile or to feel his skin against hers.
Even when she was mad at him, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
The man had well and truly got under her skin.
What was the measure of love, anyway? Because, for her, right now, it felt as if there was only one.
Could she share with him about her daughter? The pain, the terror and the hidden parts of joy?
Yes. Yes, she could.
She squeezed the hand that was holding hers. “My daughter’s name was Daisy,” she began.
His step faltered then he gave her a smile. “What a beautiful name.” He nodded knowingly. “A perfect name for a daughter.” They walked for another few steps. “Violet and Daisy. Perfect combination.”
She felt a little swell in her heart. A swell of pride that he appreciated the name that had come to her straight away. As soon as they’d told her that her baby was going to be a girl, she’d known exactly what she would call her.
And it felt good to say her name out loud rather than just look at it on a memorial wall. On a little plaque only she visited.
She took a deep breath. This wasn’t as hard as she’d thought it would be but, then, she’d been so afraid to do this. Maybe it was all about timing. Or maybe it was all about sharing with the right person.
“She was perfect, Evan. There was nothing wrong with her. Full term. No complications. She had fine blond hair and blue eyes. And her skin...it was perfect.” She could see her right then—as if she were right before her eyes. She inhaled deeply, trying to remember her gorgeous baby smell. The silky touch of her unblemished skin.