Harbor Street (Cedar Cove #5)(85)

“He’s certainly got a good set of lungs,” Cathy said, squeezing Cecilia’s hand. Tears streamed down her face and Cecilia’s, too—tears of joy. She strained to see her son.

“What about his heart?” she pleaded. “Is his heart okay?”

The attending physician smiled over at her. “He looks just fine, but we’ll run all the tests and let you know right away.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, exhausted.

“You did so well,” Cathy said, brushing the wet tendrils from Cecilia’s forehead. “You were incredible—no epidural or anything.”

“I’m exhausted.”

“Sleep,” Cathy urged. “I’ll take care of letting everyone at your office know. Plus Carol and Rachel.”

“Thanks. Sleeping certainly won’t be a problem.” Already her eyes were drifting shut. After a few minutes, Cecilia was hardly aware of the activity going on around her. She knew Aaron had been placed in a tiny bed in her room and was sleeping at her side, swaddled in a pale blue blanket with a blue knit cap on his head.

Cecilia wasn’t sure what time it was when she woke. Her first thought was that she’d given birth to her son. She’d so badly wanted Ian with her, but that hadn’t been possible. Slowly she opened her eyes and discovered that her son’s tiny crib was empty. Half-raising herself, braced on one elbow, she saw her husband sitting beside the bed, cradling Aaron in his arms.

Cecilia blinked, afraid her imagination and desire had conjured him up. “Ian?” she tried tentatively.

He glanced at her and Cecilia saw that his eyes were bright with tears.

“It is you. Oh, Ian, Ian, I can’t believe you’re here. How…when?” Her tongue kept tripping over itself in her happiness.

Her husband gave her the brightest smile she’d ever seen. “The George Washington had a transport that was headed home. The chaplain talked to my CO after I learned you’d gone into labor. I don’t know what he said or did, but he got me on that transport.”

One day Cecilia would personally thank him.

“So this is our son,” Ian said, gazing at Aaron. The baby wrapped his tiny hand around Ian’s finger and held on. “He’s perfect,” Ian whispered, nearly overcome with emotion. “I talked to the pediatrician and she put Aaron through a test they do on newborns—the Apgar, it’s called—and he scored a ten.”

Cecilia sighed, relieved and grateful.

“I’m holding our baby,” her husband said in awe. “Our Aaron.”

Ian had never gotten the opportunity to hold Allison. “I’m so sorry I didn’t make it for the labor,” he told her.

“Next time,” she assured him.

Ian’s head came up. “Next time?” he repeated.

“Aaron needs a little sister, but we’ll talk about that later.”

Her husband grinned. “Aye, aye, Captain. At your service.”

Forty-Three

It was Saturday afternoon. Allison Cox walked out of the JCPenney store in the Silverdale Mall with two of her best friends, Kaci and Alicia. The St. Patrick’s Day displays were still up and the entire mall was decorated with an Irish theme. She was joking and laughing with her friends, having a good time, when she heard her name.

“Hey, Allison.”

She stopped abruptly when she saw Anson, shocked that he’d spoken to her. He wore the same long black coat, noticeably shabbier now. His hair was messy and his boots untied. He didn’t look good. And normally he worked on Saturdays. Why was he here?

Without a word to her friends, Allison joined him. She knew something was terribly wrong even before he spoke.

“Ditch your friends,” he said, eyeing Kaci and Alicia, who were a few paces behind her.

She sucked in a breath. “I can’t do that.”

“Fine.” He turned and walked away.

“It’s all right,” Kaci said, hugging Allison briefly. “Go. Meet us at Waldenbooks at three.”

Allison nodded gratefully and hurried after Anson. He was walking through the mall at such speed that she had to run in order to catch up with him.

“Anson, stop!” she called.

He turned around but didn’t smile when he saw her.

“What happened?” she asked. Clearly something had, otherwise he would never have spoken to her. He’d kept his word to her father. “Why are you here?”

“To see you. Eddie told me you’d gone to the mall. I took the bus.” He looked past her, his eyes hard as flint. “I lost my job.”

“The Lighthouse laid you off?” That didn’t make sense. Her father had checked on how he was doing, and Seth Gunderson had said Anson was conscientious and diligent in his work habits. There was even talk of promoting him from dishwasher to working as a prep cook. Her father seemed pleased that his faith in Anson had been well placed.

“Does this have anything to do with Tony?”

Anson frowned. “Who told you about him and me?”

“My dad. Mr. Gunderson mentioned that the two of you weren’t getting along. Is he involved in…in getting you fired?”

“Probably.”

“Did they give you a reason?” she said, her hand on his sleeve. Anson was so cold and angry and with his whole Goth regalia, including the heavy pewter cross he wore around his neck, people obviously found him menacing. Shoppers gave them a wide berth as they stood outside the food court.