of water on a tray on the bedside table. The soup had gone cold, but he warmed it with the heat of his gaze.
"Sara, I want you to eat this."
"I'm not hungry."
"Please, cara, for me."
"All right..."
Obediently, she swallowed several spoonfuls of the clear broth.
"No more," she murmured.
He put the bowl on the table, then drew her into his arms again. "Sleep now."
"Will you be here when I wake?"
"No, but I will come to you tomorrow night."
"On your honor, you promise?"
"I have no honor, cara, but I promise I will be here tomorrow night."
She summoned a faint smile, then, with a sigh, her eyelids fluttered down once more.
He held her for as long as he dared, his fingertips drifting over her hair, sometimes caressing the gentle curve of her cheek, until he felt the distant heat of the sun making its way over the horizon.
Only then did he let her go.
Only then did he admit that he would do anything, even surrender his own life, to keep her safe.
She woke feeling better than she had in months. Inexplicably, her legs felt stronger, and even though she attributed it to her imagination, it seemed as though she could feel the blood flowing through her useless legs. Sitting up in bed, she wiggled her toes, something she'd never been able to do before.
The sisters proclaimed her recovery nothing short of a miracle.
Her appetite had returned, as well. Sitting at the breakfast table a half hour later, she ate everything Sister Mary Carmen placed before her, and then asked for more.
She didn't miss the surprised looks that passed between Sister Mary Carmen and Sister Mary Louisa.
Later, sitting outside, she watched the younger children at play, and for the first time in her life, she wasn't jealous of their ability to run and jump.
Lifting her face to the sun, she offered a silent prayer to God, thanking Him for the beauty of the day, for the gift of life, for Gabriel...
Unable to help herself, she laughed softly as happiness bubbled up inside her. Gabriel had promised to come to her that night. More important, he had promised never to leave her again.
Later, she read a fairy tale to several of the children. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to spend the rest of her life here, Sara thought as she turned the pages. She could become a nun, if they would have her; if not, they might let her stay on and teach.
She paused in the story, looking over the top of the book into the faces of the children sitting on the grass at her feet. Such sweet faces, innocent and trusting, so eager to love and be loved.
Six-year-oldElizabeth smiled up at her, her eyes alight with anticipation as she waited for Sara to finish the story.
She could be happy here, Sara mused. If she could never have a child of her own, at least she could have children around her, children who needed love. And who could sympathize with them more, understand them more, than she?
She read another story, and then waved good-bye as Sister Mary Josepha called the children away. It was nap time.
Left alone, Sara gazed at the flowers that bloomed in wild profusion along the walkways. Today, with the sun shining and her heart filled with the certainty of seeing Gabriel, life seemed wonderful, perfect, filled with promise.
Today, with thoughts of Gabriel crowding her mind, anything seemed possible.
"Hurry to me, beloved," she whispered. "Hurry to me."
PART One Chapter Five
He was on the brink of awareness when he heard her voice.
Startled, he sat up, wondering if he had dreamed it. And then he heard it again, her voice, as loud and clear as if she stood beside him.
Hurry to me, beloved. Hurry to me.
Beloved...
He closed his eyes, basking in the sound of that single word. Beloved. If only it were true.
He dressed hurriedly, anxious to see her again, to see her smile, hear her voice caress his name.
He raced through the night, his preternatural speed carrying him quickly to where she waited for him.
She was sitting up in bed, an angel in a high-necked, long-sleeved gown. Her hair fell over her slender shoulders in endless waves of honey gold.
His heart quickened when he met her gaze and saw the way her eyes brightened at the sight of him.
Ah, Sara, he thought, if you only knew what manner of man stands before you, you would not be so glad to see me.
Her smile was brighter than the sun at noonday.
"So," he said