Scarlet Butterfly (19 page)

Eyes that must be answered
.

I promise you once, Carrie. I now promise you again
.

Carolina turned the page. It was blank. She raised her gaze to Rogan’s. “There were two children.”

“Yes. Your great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother, Carrie’s daughter. And Jacob’s son.”

“Oh, Rogan. The baby died. Does that mean that you’re not Jacob’s descendant?”

“We may never know, darling. Jacob could have had many wives and many children, or his family might have come from Charleston to claim his land. What happened over a hundred years ago has nothing to do with us.”

Carolina closed the book and laid it on the deck beside them, then turned back to claim her spot in Rogan’s arms. “I think it does,” she said with a sigh of satisfaction. “I don’t know what Carrie expected when she ran away with Jacob, but they’re together
now. And this Carolina didn’t know exactly what she wanted, either, until she found it.”

The boat shifted and a faint whiff of tobacco ribboned the air where the two lovers lay.

“Do you think we’re alone, Carolina?”

“No, I think Jacob and Carrie will always be with us. Do you mind?”

He looked down at her face, now flushed with pleasure. “Not a bit,” he said, and kissed her.

Later, as they sat on deck, Rogan asked a question that surprised even himself. “How would you feel about your husband smoking a pipe?”

“I’d think one pipe smoker in the Rogan family is enough,” she answered with a twinkle in her eye.

The wedding was performed in the spring in the parlor of Ridgeway Inn. Angus Evans gave the bride away. Ryan Rogan was the best man, and Ida and Harry acted as witnesses. Afterward the entire town, including the rest of the Rogan family, came down to the docks to watch the
Scarlet Butterfly
make its maiden voyage south to a Caribbean island. The schooner, it had been decided, would eventually be moored at the wharf where the St. Marys River met the Atlantic Ocean, and would be open year-round for all the world to see.

Sean and Carolina were almost finished restoring their house on the St. Marys River. And Carolina’s portrait of the ship was finished and ready to hang over the mantel.

And if an observer looked real close at the painting and had a bit of imagination, it was sometimes possible to see the shadowy figure of the ship’s
captain pacing the deck. Carolina just laughed when guests asked. She didn’t think it at all odd that the figure seemed to be in different places depending on who was watching.

After all, Jacob had always had a mind of his own, and like Carrie, Carolina wouldn’t have changed him if she could have.

“What do you mean you might lose her? Ryan, you’ve delivered hundreds of babies.”

“Sean, I warned you, and I warned Carolina, that getting pregnant was a risk, that she might not be able to carry a child. I don’t know why you let it happen.”

“Carolina wanted a child so badly, Ryan. I never intended for this to happen. But when it did, I couldn’t refuse her. Neither could you. It’s been three years, Ryan. Surely you doctors have learned something new. Please, Ryan, you have to do something. Having a baby doesn’t kill women, not in today’s world. There are modern miracles. Can’t we call in somebody?”

Ryan sighed. They’d had this conversation almost daily since he’d learned that Carolina was pregnant. “It wouldn’t do any good. I’m scheduling a c-section. The baby is showing signs of distress, and I don’t like Carolina’s blood pressure.”

“I’ll call Angus,” Sean said, his voice low and wavery. “He ought to know.”

“You do that, and when you get back, just wait here in Carrie’s room. Call the nurse if you need her. I’ll get set up.”

Angus said he’d come immediately. Sean thought a moment, then called his mother. They might never be close, but they were finding their way back to each other, thanks to Carrie’s insisting that their baby should have a grandmother.

Back in Carrie’s room, Sean sat on the chair beside her bed and took her hand. She was pale, very pale, as pale as she had been that first day he’d found her in his bed on board the
Butterfly
.

So much had happened since then. He’d learned how to love and how to be loved. His entire life had changed so much that he hardly remembered a time when Carolina hadn’t been the center of it. And she’d been happy too. Until he’d made her pregnant, she’d been as bright and warm as the sunlight that seemed to follow her.

Now she was sedated.

Suddenly she opened her eyes.

“Hi, Captain.”

“Hi, Sleeping Beauty. You know, I called you Goldilocks the first time I saw you because of your haircut, but I really thought you were waiting for your prince to kiss you awake.”

“I still am,” she whispered.

He kissed her gently. “Don’t worry, darling Carolina. I’ll take care of you and our baby. I promise.”

“I know,” she said, “you both will.”

As Ryan and the nurse wheeled Carolina away, Rogan sat in the darkness. He reached for a pipe,
then laughed. A thousand times he’d thought about buying a pipe, but he’d never done it.

In the lobby he found a shop that sold cigarettes, pipes, and tobacco. He picked out a fine-looking carved pipe with a curved handle, along with a pouch of tobacco, and paid the clerk.

“You know, you can’t smoke that in the hospital,” she reminded him. “But there’s a solarium outside the second-floor waiting room that you can use.”

“I don’t need to smoke it,” he said, patting his jacket pocket. “I just needed to have it.”

Back in the room, he waited. After what seemed like hours the door opened and Carrie’s bed was rolled back inside. She was still half-asleep, but she was all right.

“The baby?” Rogan whispered to his brother, who had come in behind her.

“The baby’s going to be fine,” Ryan answered, adding, “No thanks to you.”

“To me?”

“You didn’t have to give her a linebacker. She’s much too small to carry such a child.”

For the rest of the night Rogan slept with his head on her bed. In the morning the nurse brought their child, laid it in its mother’s arms, and left the room.

“Come and look, Rogan. We have a beautiful son.”

Rogan watched as the child stared at his father for a moment, then grasped his mother’s nipple with relish. “He has eyes like his mother, silver-blue eyes,” Rogan said, with a catch of wonder in his throat.

“Yes, but he has his father’s greedy touch.”

“What will we call him?” Rogan asked.

“I thought, if you approve, we’d call him Jacob.”

“Jacob is a fine name.”

They watched the child nurse.

“Rogan, have you taken up smoking that pipe I see in your pocket?”

“No, why?”

“Then he’s here. I smell pipe tobacco.”

“So do I. I’ve smelled it most of the night. I thought it might be because of the dampness, from the rain.”

“It’s raining? I can’t see it, Rogan. Will you open the window?”

It seemed to be stopping. Rogan tugged until he managed to raise the window a few inches. The smell of the sea rushed in, the sea and summer flowers. And then, hovering in the open space, there appeared a flash of red.

“Look, Rogan.”

The red, lacy butterfly fluttered there for a moment, then dipped its wings and flew away.

“A scarlet butterfly,” Carolina whispered. “It’s a miracle. Thank you, Jacob.”

The child opened his eyes and smiled. Outside the rain stopped and the sun came out.

In the harbor beyond, the boats floated like colored leaves on the water. Back in the saltwater lake the silt shifted, releasing its hold on the buried wooden figure. Gracefully it bobbed to the surface and floated by the dock. Aged and weathered, the figurehead moved back and forth, washing the mud from its graceful wings.

Mystically, it righted itself, planting its base in the mud by the shore. And then, as the rays of the sun pierced the foliage overhead, a tiny red butterfly flitted through the air and settled on the tip of the wooden wing.

Like a verbal sigh, the sound of the wind ribboned across the air and disappeared into the woods.

“What do you think, lass
?
”

“A scarlet butterfly. Carolina has her son, and she’s fine. I think it’s time we went back to the ship, Jacob. They don’t need us anymore.”

The butterfly rested in her special chosen spot for a very long time; then, as if weary beyond belief, she fluttered her wings and flew away, leaving behind her the promise of new life to come.

Of promises fulfilled.

Of dreams come true.

Welcome to Loveswept!

Kick off the summer with these sultry Loveswept reads. We’re starting June off with two fantastic e-originals …

… And ending the month with
HER BETROTHED’S DILEMMA
, a special original historical short story from Loveswept author Megan Frampton.

We also have some wonderful classics for you to enjoy:

Temptation runs rampant in Linda Cajio’s
DOUBLE DEALING
, #1
New York Times
bestselling author Iris Johansen tells an engrossing story about a man who promises a forever love in
FOREVER DREAM
, and Sandra Chastain enthralls with her three searing romances,
SINNER AND SAINT
,
SHOWDOWN AT LIZARD ROCK
, and
SCARLET LADY
.

If you love romance … then you’re ready to be
Loveswept
!

Gina Wachtel

Associate Publisher

P.S. Watch for these terrific Loveswept titles coming soon: July brings
Samantha Kane’s sensual new e-original,
TEMPTING A DEVIL
, Toni Aleo’s third entrancing book featuring hockey hunks,
EMPTY NET
, Ruth Owen’s dazzling
AND BABIES MAKE FOUR
, Jean Stone’s beguiling
SINS OF INNOCENCE
, Katie Rose’s utterly irresistible
A HINT OF MISCHIEF
, Iris Johansen’s seductive
TIL THE END OF TIME
, Sandra Chastain’s enticing stories,
DANNY’S GIRL
and
SILVER BRACELETS
, and August heats up with three e-originals: Stacey Kennedy’s intoxicating
CLAIMED
, Elisabeth Barrett’s blazing
SLOW SUMMER BURN
, and Toni Aleo’s red-hot
CROSSING THE LINE
, as well as Sandra Chastain’s stirring
SURRENDER THE SHADOW
, Katie Rose’s unforgettable
COURTING TROUBLE
, Adrienne Staff’s alluring
CRESCENDO
, Iris Johansen’s tantalizing
YORK
,
THE RENEGADE
and Ruth Owen’s ultra-sexy
BODY HEAT
. Don’t miss any of these extraordinary reads. I promise that you’ll fall in love and treasure these stories for years to come.…

Eleanor “Elli” Fisher didn’t understand why she was so forgetful. She was convinced that if her ass wasn’t attached to her, she would forget it at home too. But really? How in the world did she forget all the bulbs for her light stands?!

Elli stood in the entrance of the Luther Arena, waiting for Harper Allen, her assistant, to bring the bulbs back from her studio on the western side of Nashville. This was one of the most important days of her career and she forgot the bulbs.

God, I am an idiot
.

How did she manage this? She ran her hand through her unruly brown curly hair, sighing. As if forgetting the bulbs wasn’t enough, she was also having a really crappy hair day. This was her first year with the Nashville Assassins. She couldn’t blow it. Being chosen to be the photographer for a hockey team was huge, but when it was for the team that just won the Stanley Cup and had the prospect of winning again? Hello, it was HUGE.

When she saw Harper running into the arena with the bulbs in hand, she let out the breath she had been holding. Damn, that was fast.

“For Christ’s sake! It’s a mad house out there!” Harper complained in her thick southern accent. Her hair was in spikes this week. The spikes were also purple, which made it even more interesting. Hadn’t she discussed with Harper how they needed to keep a professional image? Yes, purple was a team color.

But still!

“I know, come on. Let’s go put the bulbs in.” She didn’t have time to have it out with Harper right now; she had to get to the ice. They all but ran towards the entrance to the ice. Once there, she was greeted by the Assassins’ PR rep.