From This Day Forward (33 page)

A fierce shudder ripped through the small boat, and to Caroline's horror, it began listing to the left, leaning so far in that direction that she nearly fell over the side.

She screamed as the pole she'd been clinging to snapped in half, but the sound died unheard in the roaring tempest. The deck fell away, vanishing from beneath her feet, and she was falling, tumbling through an infinite void just before a blow to her head rendered her senseless and the world went black.

* * *

Jason pushed the door to Caroline's sitting room open and gazed around with a deep, ragged sigh. He didn't even have to cross the threshold to know that she'd gone. He could feel it in the stillness of the room. It was worse than the first time because his feelings for her had grown tenfold.

He'd miss her, damn how he'd miss her. He'd even miss the arguments, her constant probing, her infuriating belief that she could
mend
every problem, right every wrong. He'd miss her every day of his life.

Walking through the doorway, he gazed around him at the wilted orchids on the table across the room, the windows left open, the tidiness of the room. It was almost as if she hadn't been here at all, but his heart knew better.

Sadness tightened his throat and he swallowed against it, running a hand through his hair as he tried to convince himself that it was for the best, that it was what he'd wanted all along. He'd kept his privacy intact, his damned secrets undiscovered. Now they were all he had to keep him company, and his heart ached at the prospect of a lifetime of regret.

He couldn't forget the day at the
beneficio,
the day she'd finally encountered his true nature. In the weeks that followed, she'd avoided him, staying in her room as much as possible, even taking her meals there in order not to have to look at him or be in the same room with him.

She'd thought she understood him and the life he'd led, but she was terribly innocent in some ways. She'd been shielded from much of the ugliness of life. There were things she couldn't even imagine, things he'd wanted to protect her from. But how could he protect her from anything when she needed protection from him most of all?

Closing his eyes, he shuddered as a torrent of self- loathing swept over him. He'd almost hit her. He'd raised his hand to her, and he'd seen the stark fear in her eyes. It still sickened him. In that instant, he'd felt the rush of power his father must have experienced. A savage satisfaction had permeated his being—he could make her shut up. In an instant, he could put an end to her infernal crusade to find a human heart inside him. He'd felt her helplessness, and he'd been unable to take advantage of it. But what about next time?

She'd done the only thing she could do under the circumstances. She'd taken herself and her child out of his presence. She'd run away. He just prayed God she'd stay in Manaus until the baby was born instead of trying to make it all the way back to New Orleans. Time was running out.

His gut twisted as he realized he'd never see his own child, his own flesh and blood. And though he knew it was better this way, the pain persisted. Caroline would take care of him. She'd provide a loving home. He would provide financial support for them through Derek. It was the least he could do and the only thing he had to offer anyway.

The loud, piercing blast of a steam whistle rent the still afternoon air, and a thrill trembled through Jason's body, his first thought that the mail boat had turned around and come back. But as soon as his rational mind asserted itself, he realized that it must be Ignacio returning from his mission to Manaus. The mail boat had stopped only briefly yesterday afternoon. It would be miles downriver by now.

Steeling himself against the pain that pierced his heart, he left the empty sitting room, closing the door behind him.

"This is
Senhor
Deiras," Ignacio said, and Jason shook hands with the slight, bespectacled man who stepped from the boat.

The smaller man's hand trembled noticeably, and Jason wondered at the cause of his unease. "Welcome," he said with a smile, trying to reassure the nervous little man who clasped his battered hat to his chest as if it were a lifeline.

Ignacio smiled. "I'm afraid he's still a little shaken by the storm we went through yesterday afternoon. Traveling the river in the rainy season can be deadly, as you know."

A shudder of apprehension sliced through Jason as he thought of Caroline on the river. He hadn't allowed himself to dwell on the dangers of traveling at this time of year, but they were very real. Sudden, violent storms could produce ten foot swells and near gale force winds.

"We had to wait the storm out in an Indian hut," Ignacio went on. "I thought the wind would blow the roof off."

"Well," Jason said, forcing a smile, "at least no one was hurt."

"No," Ignacio agreed, "but I'm afraid the mail boat wasn't so fortunate."

The blood pounded loudly in Jason's head as he stood stiff as a statue, listening to Ignacio's news. Panic, raw and bitter, rose in his throat. "What happened?"

"For several miles, we passed the debris. And as we reached a bend in the river, we saw the rescue party drag the captain and his mate out of the river." Ignacio finished by making the sign of the cross over his chest.

"Two bodies?" Jason asked, barely able to speak past his rasping breath.

"Sim, patrao,"
Ignacio replied, his brow furrowing in concern. "You are very pale,
patrao,
is anything wrong?"

"Survivors?" he choked out.

Ignacio shook his head negatively. "You know
Capitao
Polonia seldom took passengers. I suspect there was no....
Patrao,
where are you going?"

Jason leaped onto the small steamboat as his men unloaded the last of the cargo and luggage from its hold. "Untie the ropes!" he shouted.

"But
patrao...."

"Do as I say, damn you!" Jason bellowed, ignoring Ignacio's confusion. His men obeyed and the boat floated free of the pier. Thank God, they hadn't cut the engines yet or it might have taken an hour to get them hot again.

"
Patrao!
"
Ignacio shouted from the quickly receding shore, "where are you going?"

"Where did they find the bodies?" Jason asked, trying to quell the paroxysm of terror inside him. Caroline's life might well depend on it—on him.

"About thirty miles downriver! But where... !"

"Caroline was on that boat!" The words, spoken aloud, made the terror all too real.

Ignacio ran to the edge of the pier. "Come back! I will go with you!"

"There's no time!" Jason called. "I need you here! If I'm not back by morning, send a party after me!"

"Be careful!" Ignacio shouted, his words carried away by the breeze that ruffled Jason's damp hair.

Caroline, Caroline, he thought desperately. Please be all right. Maybe she hadn't gotten on the mail boat. She'd tricked him before. Maybe she was hiding somewhere in the jungle. Maybe she'd gone back to the slave village. Dear God, she had to be all right.

* * *

Caroline tried to move her left arm, and a numbing pain shot through her body. Broken. Useless. Tears sprang to her eyes as she stretched out her right arm and grabbed hold of a sturdy-looking root just above her head. She'd given up wondering how she'd come to be here on the muddy bank, and now all her thoughts were concentrated on getting to safety. She could feel the river lapping steadily at her ankles and knew she had to get to higher ground before another storm crashed down on her.

She tried not to think of the snakes and alligators and flesh-eating fish that populated the Amazon, lest she give in to the consuming fear that lurked close to the edge of her mind, waiting for the chance to devour her.

The soft, cloying bank beneath her clung to her skirt, dragging her down, making it nearly impossible to move in her weakened state. She wanted to cry, to lie there and give up. She had no idea how badly injured she might
be;
only that her head throbbed and her left arm was broken—and the baby hadn't moved since she'd regained consciousness.

A sob tore from her throat as she pulled desperately at the root, moving slightly up the bank and settling in a new position only inches higher than she'd started out. The effort drained her strength and cost her dearly in terms of pain.

Gasping for air, she lay there for a minute. Just a minute. She had to rest, to re
-
gather her strength and her will to go on. Closing her eyes, she'd almost succumbed to the weariness that enveloped her like a heavy cloak when a tearing, searing pain exploded deep inside her belly, wrenching a groan from her and leaving her even more breathless in its wake.

"Not now," she murmured. "Please God, not now. It's too early.
I
...
I can't...."

Grasping at the soft earth, Caroline tried again to pull herself up the bank, but there was nothing solid to hold on to, nothing but soft, loose mud. She tried to crawl, but that only caused her more pain when she fell helplessly onto her injured arm.

Exhausted, she lay still, her head reeling, nausea rising in her throat. It was so hot, so humid, she could hardly breathe. Life pulsed through the jungle around her. Bird songs and the chattering of monkeys in the trees filled her ears, as hungry insects whirred around her. She didn't even have the strength to swat at them but endured their frequent bites. At least the stinging sensation affirmed that she was alive and not in hell.

Without volition, she began to pant rapidly, deeply, as another pain swelled inside her, gathering strength before breaking over her brittle body with a vengeance.

How far apart had they been? She strained to concentrate, to calculate, but every minute seemed an eternity here in this isolated, savage place. How could she be sure of anything?

"Not now. Please, not now," she gasped as a silken darkness overwhelmed her and she surrendered to a painless nothingness.

"Caroline!" Jason called, cupping his hands over his mouth.

His frantic gaze swept the banks of the river for any sign of her, but nothing met his eyes, nothing but green and brown jungle. On his journey down the river, he'd passed pieces of floating debris left by the wrecked mail boat, and his urgency had increased to the point of unremitting panic.

She had to be all right. If anything had happened to her, he'd never forgive himself. It was all his fault, his fault. Where could she be?

In his desperate search of the shoreline, he'd refused to allow himself to search the river itself, refused to entertain the idea that what he might find instead of his frightened, bruised but indomitable wife was a lifeless body skimming the surface of the river. He couldn't even allow himself to contemplate it or he would go mad.

"Caroline!" he called again, desperation raising his voice.

The engines chugged softly. He'd cut them as low as he dared so that he could hear any response, but none came. Gazing at the heavens, he realized that he didn't have much daylight left. He had to find her before nightfall. If she had survived last night, she would be frightened and hungry and possibly injured. Could she endure another?

"Caroline!" he called again.

Maybe she was afraid of him. Maybe she heard his voice but feared him more than she did being alone in the jungle.

"Please answer me," he murmured. "I... I'm sorry."

Jason's ears perked at a chilling sound, a shiver trembling down his spine at its stark, piercing quality. At first he thought it must be a monkey. They could sound amazingly human, but the scream came again, inhuman yet somehow human at the same time. A scream of agony.

"Caroline!" he called, steering the boat toward the sound, toward the right bank.

Desperately he searched the shadows for a sign of life. How could he find her when he could hardly make out the shore at all? In the last few minutes, the sun had dipped dramatically, lengthening and deepening the shadows that clung to the bank. The way voices carried on the river, she could be anywhere within a five-mile radius, but she was alive!