Blue Moon #3 (Story of Us Series - Into the Blue) - Sydney Jamesson Page 0,16

was struggling to contain. Each one records the story of us.

Unthinking, I caress his handsome face with my index finger and whisper, “Just you wait until you meet your handsome daddy. Your mummy is so proud of him, and so will you be. We’re going to save him before we lose him forever.”

Startled by the knock on my door, I sniff back tears and wipe my eyes. “Come in,” I call out, closing the lid on my laptop.

Bernie enters. She isn’t smiling. The seconds of waiting are elongated, prolonging my agony. In no more than a whisper she says, “They’ll do it, but want to rewrite the plan.”

I exhale. “Oh! Thank God!”

“They think there are too many variables and want to pare it down before getting involved.”

I jump up from my bed. “I’m open to suggestions.”

Noticing my distressed state, she takes hold of my arm. “You might want to hear what they have in mind first, Beth.”

I’m so overcome with relief, I sway, leaning backwards onto one hand to steady myself. “Why?”

“I think you need to sit down, first.” She takes my weight and edges me backward onto the bed. “It’s been one hell of a week.”

“It certainly has,” I concede with a weak smile.

She pours me a glass of water. “Here, drink this and lie down.” She takes my laptop from the bed and places it on my desk. “We don’t have to talk about this now. I can come back later, when you’ve rested.”

I reach for her arm. “No. Tell me now. I’m okay.”

For some reason, her expression has become grave. The three words this is serious are written on her face like an epitaph. “They said they always work as a team, and want complete control over the venue and the deployment of ground forces.”

I respond with a shaky, “All right.”

“They have suggested getting a stand-in for you.”

I take a long sip of water, hoping it will help to clear my head. “I don’t understand … I’m the one they’re coming after. I’ll have to be there.”

“Not necessarily. They can replace you with someone who isn’t a civilian.” She sits on the edge of the bed. “It’s a good idea.”

I’m stunned. “But why risk someone else’s life?”

“They’ll be better able to handle themselves if things don’t go to plan, and you won’t become collateral damage.”

For the first time since putting this together, I’m considering that terrifying idea. Not for one minute did I think it wouldn’t work—it has to work.

I feel the warmth of her hand in mine. “In view of your condition, I think it’s essential that you keep as far away from this operation as possible.”

My condition?

With eyes still stinging from the salt of my earlier tears, I see the sincerity in her face.

“And by condition, you mean that fact that I’m pregnant, right?”

“Why yes, of course.” She uses unfamiliar words I recognise as a white lie.

I remove my hand from hers. “What are you keeping from me?” In a single movement, I swing my legs to the side of the bed.

“It’s nothing, just a sign that you’ve been overdoing it, that’s all.” She attempts to bolt.

I beat her to the door. “Bernie. I have been doing absolutely nothing for two whole days. I couldn’t be more rested if I lay in bed all day and had you spoon feed me.” Close to losing my cool, I fold my arms, unwilling to let her pass. “Tell me, please.” I’m trying not to shout.

“I’m not a doctor, Beth. I’ve never had a child.” She lifts her head so I can see the sadness in her eyes. “All these dizzy spells…”

“I’m just tired,” I declare, making light of it. “Richard didn’t say anything when he examined me.”

She bites her lip. “That’s because he was instructed not to.”

I stamp my feet. “I hate that. This is my body, these are my babies too.”

“You’re right of course, but—“

“But nothing!” I look around for my deck shoes. “Go and tell Christian to return to his post…”

Bernie moves over to my bed and straightens the covers. “I think you should be lying down, Beth.”

“I have the rest of my life to lie down, Bernie.” On the verge of tears, I reach for the doorknob. “Right now I’m trying to keep my family alive and doing an awful job of it.”

“No one expects you to take on the world, Beth,” she asserts, lingering by the door.

“No one but me, it seems.” Our eyes meet. “I thought you of all people would understand,