I'll Be Your Blue Sky (Love Walked In #3)(63)

“I parked my car in the dark place down the street,” said John. “There’s a woman in it with a newborn baby. She shot her husband, not half an hour ago. The man’s dead, Edith.”

The rest of the miserable story tumbled out. By the time John was saying, “Anyway, I was hoping maybe you could do for her what you’ve done for the others,” Edith was already putting on her coat.

Her name was Sarah. For a woman who had recently given birth, for any woman, Sarah was thin—stark jawline, broomstick arms, her back a frightening relief map of bones—and more horribly hurt than any woman who had ever passed through Blue Sky House. John carried her from the car to Edith’s back door; Edith carried the baby, Steven, who did not cry but merely regarded her with his almond-shaped eyes.

Edith centered the baby on the cot in the corner of the room, as John placed Sarah gently on the bed, leaving the room immediately afterward so that Edith could examine her. Sarah’s face was ashen where it wasn’t bruised or bleeding, one eye purple, swollen shut, her throat, back, breasts, rib cage, arms, legs covered with bruises like ink stains, some of them new. Edith gently dabbed some ointment on her split lip. Edith heard a clattering sound outside and froze, but when John didn’t reappear, she assumed it was just the wind and went back to her examination. When Edith pressed carefully on Sarah’s abdomen, Sarah moaned.

As soon as John came back into the room, Edith pulled him aside and said, “I’ll do what I can, but her distended abdomen, the pain, those dark purple splotches on her stomach could mean she’s bleeding internally. She should be in the hospital,” said Edith.

“If we take her to one, she’s sure to be arrested,” said John. “Her husband was rich, well connected. Word of this will spread like wildfire.”

Sarah’s eyes were shut, her dark hair shining against the pillow. She must have been beautiful, thought Edith. And then, bitterly, Sometimes, beauty is a curse.

“She has no fever, not yet,” she said. “We may have some time to work with, but I just don’t know. I can’t know the extent of the damage.”

“Wherever the car takes the other women,” said John, “there must be hospitals.”

“There must be,” said Edith, “but I don’t know where they go or how long it takes to get there. I don’t know anything; that’s how this works.”

“We should ask her what she wants to do,” said John.

Edith walked to the bed, and said, “Sarah.” The woman opened her good eye. It was a remarkable color, ice blue, almost silvery, and, despite everything, alert, to Edith’s relief. Sarah listened to Edith and then said, “I won’t go to a hospital. If I’m in prison, what will become of Steven?”

She could barely get the words out. A bruised larynx, thought Edith.

“Do you have family who could take him?” Edith asked.

Sarah laughed, a terrible, broken-down wheeze of a laugh. “My husband’s people would never let that happen.”

She reached out and clutched Edith’s hand and said fiercely, “They are fiends, all of them, cruel and heartless. Would you want your child raised by people like that? If I die or get caught before we get to the safe place, promise me you’ll never let Steven go back to them. Promise me you’ll find good people to raise him.”

Edith couldn’t bring herself to tell Sarah that she wouldn’t know where she was going or whether she and her baby ever arrived. Instead, she said, “I’ll find a way. I promise.”

She turned to John. “We shouldn’t wait until morning. If she’s leaving, it will have to be tonight, the sooner the better.”

John nodded.

“I need to make a phone call,” said Edith.



For the first time, Edith called the number George Graham had given her. A woman answered, took Edith’s information, and hung up. When ten minutes passed without George calling her, she began to pace, her hands clasped hard against her sternum, and, for the first time in years, to pray. Ten minutes later, the phone rang.

She spilled Sarah’s story out in one long stream. It was the first time she’d spoken to George since she had ended their relationship, but she didn’t have time to feel awkward. When she was finished, she waited for George to give her instructions, tell her when the car would arrive. Instead, his voice came at her like a knife.

“Don’t be foolish, Edith. Do you think the driver of that car waits down the road for me to call him? He’s hours away; even tomorrow morning would be too soon, and that woman and her baby need to get out of your house tonight.”

“Get out? And go where?” asked Edith, confused.

“I don’t know. Figure something out. Jesus God, Edith, a murderess? A man from a prominent family? A woman people might recognize and with an infant? People will be looking for her. They’re probably already on the hunt. I need your house, Edith. Don’t you understand that?”

“I understand that her husband would have murdered her if she hadn’t killed him first. You haven’t seen the horrible damage he did to her.”

“Then she should be in a hospital. Have that police chief take her there. Immediately.”

“No. I promised her I wouldn’t. If I do that, she’ll be arrested.”

“You promised?” he said, acidly. “It was not your place to promise.”