by Shea Swain
“You all right, son?” Poppa Morel asked. He eyed Ian suspiciously from the driver’s seat of his truck. The old man had been weary of their description of events when John had brought help to the picnic site a few weeks ago. Ian, Tanner, and the girls were packing up when John returned with Poppa Morel and François. Minutes after the men arrived, emergency vehicles pulled up. Ian and Aria had explained to his three cousins that telling anyone what happened would get Ian in a whole lot of trouble, so they all lied.
Thank god this was the era of superheroes, because that was probably the only thing that convinced the children that he needed to maintain his secret identity. Tanner pegged him for an X-Men type, grasping at the possibility of an evolutionary genetic leap, hoping he would evolve too. Mandy associated him with a secret magical boy like Harry Potter, and Selene just liked the fact that she was keeping a secret.
Ever since that day, Aria, Ian, and his cousins had been very close, and often were caught talking in hushed voices. The others seemed to know they hid something, but no one pressed them.
Ian decided that he needed to keep his abilities from the rest of his family, so instead of telling his grandfather that he was thinking about telekinesis and wondering what else he was capable of, he deflected. “If I could figure her out, I’d be better off,” Ian admitted. The truth was, even with her declaration of love, Aria was still an enigma to him.
After a throaty, jolly laugh his grandfather shrugged. “When you do figure it out, let the guys and me know.”
Maybe he didn’t need to figure Aria out. Just letting her know that he loved her seemed to be enough. The fact that she loved him in return still amazed him. Aria accepted him regardless of their history and his complex issues. She hadn’t once thrown it in his face that she wouldn’t be in any of this mess if it hadn’t been for him.
Aria had asked him for nothing.
He knew she desperately wanted him to accept the baby she carried, but she hadn’t brought it up. In fact, Aria never spoke of the baby with him, and if someone did, she found a way to seamlessly change the subject.
I’m such an ass, Ian thought. Aria was the most amazing woman he knew and he was a complete ass. He sighed, thinking about how happy she made him…and how he kept failing her.
“Pillar Hilt is a very good hospital,” Pop Morel said, filling the silence in the car. “And Dr. Cartwright is a skilled obstetrician. Aria will be fine. She’s in good hands.”
Ian didn’t doubt the capability of the hospital staff or Dr. Cartwright, because since Aria had been admitted two days ago for fatigue, dehydration, and spotting, the staff had been wonderful. He just wondered if his issues were connected to what was going on with her.
It was just that since the levitating incident, Ian had been experiencing odd things. His emotions that he’d held in check his entire life had gone haywire. His body’s core temperature had been slowly rising, and memories long forgotten had been coming back to him in full force.
Those long-gone memories were slowly becoming clearer throughout the week. Ian remembered one of the rare times his brother had talked about their mother. She’d been in the early stages of pregnancy with Ian and had gotten very ill. No one knew what was wrong or how to help her. It was all too much of a coincidence—his mother’s illness and Aria’s. Eventually his uncle was able to figure out what was wrong and was able to help his mother. Vincent wasn’t able to save her from the effects of his birth, though.
Ian now also remembered that someone had come to him the one and only time he’d been hospitalized. The entire memory of that night had all but disappeared. Then last night while Ian sat in the hospital recliner with his eyes closed and his head nestled against Aria’s hand as she lay in the bed, he’d recalled the incident clearly.
“You’ll be fine now, Ian,” Marroe had told him when he’d appeared in Ian’s hospital room after everyone had left. Ian’s recall of that memory opened the floodgates, and Ian now recalled another time he’d had an odd conversation with the man that had usually avoided him. But when Dr. Marroe wasn’t ignoring him, he had always spoken to Ian like he was a child and not like he was an adult like everyone else did. Ian liked that about him.
In fact, that day—the day the doctor decided to talk with him—stood out because it was on Ian’s birthday, February 29, 2000. Every four months for as far back as he could remember, Ian had been taken to his uncle’s lab for an allergy shot, but that day Dr. Marroe was there to administer it. It wasn’t often that someone other than Vincent handled his medical treatments.
What was most odd about the visit was that after Dr. Marroe had checked him out, drew the usual blood work, and given Ian his injection, he had left the room and come back a few minutes later with a small cake that held a single candle.
“Happy Birthday Ian,” Dr. Marroe had said, as he held it up for Ian to blow out the candle.
Ian remembered being shocked that the doctor who had otherwise ignored him on a personal level would do something so out of character. For the first time in his life, Ian had been given a cake, of sorts. Raised to hide his emotions until he practically buried them, Ian remembered feeling a hint of happiness from the kind gesture. He also remembered that as he and the doctor shared the cake they had a friendly ‘almost normal’ conversation for the first time.
They’d discussed Ian’s birthday and how the doctor thought that it falling on a leap year was interesting. Then Dr. Marroe had told Ian of a man named James Milne Wilson, who had been the Premier of Tasmania. Wilson had died on his birthday, which of course had happened to other people, except the Premier’s birthday was also on February 29th just like Ian’s. Now that he remembered this incident, Ian had a strong feeling that conversation had some special meaning, that Dr. Marroe had been trying to tell him something, but he wasn’t sure what.
Poppa Morel pulled the truck into the hospital parking lot, ripping Ian from his thoughts.
“Thanks for everything,” Ian said, as he unbuckled his seatbelt. Thanking his grandfather for just the ride just seemed silly when the man had given them so much more.
“It’s nothing, Ian.” Poppa Morel patted him on the back. “I’ll give you some time alone with her. You can find me in the cafeteria when you’re done.”
Ian gave his grandfather a nod as he stepped out of the truck. There was no way he would ever be able to repay this man for his generosity. All of the Morels had embraced him and Aria, taking them in and making them comfortable, without knowing a thing about them, and knowing that they were in some kind of trouble.
Absently following the signs to the floor Aria was on, Ian pressed the button to enter the secured wing. “Francis Morel for Ria Morel,” he said into the intercom. It was his grandfather who had suggested that they use aliases with the hospital once they smoothed it over with Dr. Cartwright. Ian used his middle name and just dropped the A in Aria’s. The door buzzed and he pulled it open. Ian made his way to the nurse’s station. “Has Dr. Cartwright been in room ten today?”
“The doctors are in with her now.” The nurse smiled sympathetically.
Hearing that, Ian rushed to the room and got there just as the doctors were exiting. Dr. Cartwright said a few words to her colleagues then focused on him when they were left alone in the hallway.
“How is she?” he asked.
“Not doing well.” She sighed. “She’s weakening. I ordered another round of testing when you left, so she’s tired.” The doctor touched his shoulder. “I’m dedicated to helping her to make it through this.”
“And the baby?” Ian asked. The question was a valid one, but one he wasn’t sure that he wanted the answer. Her answer may confirm his suspicions and create a score of new fears.
Dr. Cartwright smoothed her hand down his arm and smiled sweetly. “Strong and thriving under the circumstances,” she answered.
I was right. The baby was like a parasite that was slowly zapping Aria’s strength, her life. Dr. Cartwright said some other things to him, but Ian wasn
’t listening. She touched his arm again and Ian nodded, then the doctor walked away.
Aria was all he wanted right now, so why was it that he couldn’t move. Ian stood outside her room door for several minutes, unable to move. He breathed deeply before pushing open her room door and going to her.
Ian sat in the chair by Aria’s bed and took in her radiance, even with her pale skin. Her hair, still in the long plait Roxanne had tied it in, spilled over her shoulder and arm, resting just under the side of her breast. Her eyes were closed and her lashes clung together. She’d been crying.
His heart ached for her.
Ian touched her cheek and pulled his hand away suddenly; her skin was so cold.
Nothing had ever hurt him more than seeing Aria like this. And the thought that he had to leave her in order to get her some help deeply pained him. Ian sucked in a breath. He knew what he had to do and he would do it. He lowered his head and prayed to a God he rarely acknowledged.
“You need to sleep.”
Her voice was weak and she needed to rest, but Ian was happy that she was awake. “I’m fine,” he told her, trying to look the part by straightening up. Not tired, just sad. Her eyes slowly took him in, then they moved away from his, giving Ian a sense of loss.
“I love the way that feels.” She smiled bright.
The way what feels? Ian followed her gaze to her stomach where his hand was actually moving in circles over her swollen abdomen. Without even realizing he’d done it, he caressed her belly…their baby. Tensing, he was about to move his hand when the most amazing thing happened. He felt…it. Not in the physical sense like it kicked, but in the spiritual. He felt a connection to the life inside Aria. Ian added a little more pressure to his touch and spread his fingers to feel more.
“Are you all right?”
Ian nodded, but didn’t turn his eyes away from her belly, afraid he would break whatever connection he had. He went over Aria’s question in his head. Was he all right? No, he might not ever be all right. Not if I lost them.
Them. The word was foreign in the context he was using it. He mentally linked and then strengthened his connection with his child. The babe thrived, just as the doctor said.
“I didn’t want to be a father, Aria, because I don’t think I’ll be a good one.” His tone was almost a whisper. “My father was cold, and I learned early on that I had to keep anything I felt locked inside or it displeased him.” Ian looked up at her. “And I wanted to please him so badly, but nothing I did ever warmed him to me. I mean, he provided me with a cushy life, but what I wanted he couldn’t afford.”
“You’ll be a wonderful father, Ian. You just have to want to be. I know you can be,” Aria said with conviction.
Ian didn’t have that much faith. He did know that he would move heaven and hell to make things right. “I can try,” he said to her, but swore it to himself.
“Good.” Aria’s smile was so sweet. “So where did you go?”
Switching the topic, Aria had unknowingly forced Ian into a corner. He rubbed her stomach as he searched for the words he needed to say. He finally settled on the bare facts. “Poppa Morel has a friend who owns a private airfield. He knows a pilot. There’s someone I need to see.”
“Are you coming back?”
He could hear the fear and sadness in her voice and his heart ached anew. Ian cupped Aria’s face and leaned into her. “Given a choice, I would never leave your side Aria, but you need help that these doctors can’t provide.” Ian brushed his lips against her usually soft, but now cracked lips.
Her hands touched his chest, then she pushed. The effort was weak, but he backed away so she didn’t waste her energy.
“You aren’t going to him, are you?” She was panicked and her hands were fisting his shirt.
Ian covered her hands with his. How could he tell her that he was going to find the man who everyone, including him, thought was dead? “No, I’m not going to my uncle.” But he wouldn’t see her die, either. If this hunt for Doctor Marroe ended up being a wild goose chase, Ian would do whatever it took to save her and the baby. If getting that help meant he would have to make a deal with the devil, he gladly would.
“I would give anything to have met you under normal circumstances.” He placed his head on hers, cupped her face in his hands, and closed his eyes. “To see you carefree and happy.”
Tears streamed down Aria’s face, running through his fingers. “You wouldn’t have talked to me. I am so not your type,” she sniffed.
Ian laughed, hoping he didn’t sound as sad as he felt. “You don’t know how beautiful you are, Aria Cole. Initially you would have sparked my interest with your beauty. Your strength and independence has earned my respect. Your intelligence and spirit keep me humble. Your sensual curves feed my desires and quench my passion. The light in your eyes captured my heart and your love holds my soul.” He gave her a quick kiss. “I would have followed you around the entire night, waiting for you to grace me with a look and wishing you’d offer a word. You drew me in immediately, and I refuse to let you out of my life.”
Aria sucked in several gulps of air before her tears slowed and she settled down. “I’m sorry I fought you—us—so hard. When you kissed me at my house after meeting my folks, I pretended your kiss meant nothing to me. But it did, Ian. I didn’t want you to know that I craved your touch. I didn’t want you to think I was some kind of slut.” Aria’s tears began again. “If I had accepted what I knew in my heart I wanted, we would have had more time together.”
“Don’t,” he said, giving her head a gentle shake, “we’re still young. We’re going to have a long and happy life together. I plan to marry you, Aria Cole.” Ian placed one of his hands on her belly and left the other cupping her cheek. “We should at least have two or three more kids, and I would love to live in a town like yours, or here.” He looked around then back to her. “I am a very wealthy man, Aria,” he said, winking, “and keeping you and our children loved and happy will be my duty and pleasure.”
Her laughter, one of strength and true happiness, filled the room. “I’m not as eloquent with words as you are.”
He laughed. “I only need to hear three.”
“I Love You,” she said, making sure she enunciated every word.
Ian leaned in and kissed Aria so passionately that he almost forgot that she was weak and he had to go.
“Knock knock,” Roxanne said, as she opened the door. Both Ian and Aria pulled away from each other. Color graced Aria’s cheeks for the first time in two days. “I got your text. I’ll draw her blood and give you everything else you asked for, even though you won’t tell me why you need it.”
Ian kissed Aria once more before stepping away for Roxanne to do what she had to do. “Thanks, Aunt Roxy,” he said, kissing his aunt on the cheek.
“Uh-huh,” Roxanne said, shaking her head. “You’re welcome. Don’t forget to call the kids and tell them you’re leaving for a few days. Mandy, Tanner, and Selene idolize you. Mandy even thinks you’re some kind of superhero.”
“I will,” he said, waiting patiently for the blood samples. He needed to get going.
THE PLANE RIDE TO TEXAS gave Ian enough time to second guess himself and his reasons for leaving Aria alone, but now he had arrived and he was driving to the residence of a man he believed was the supposedly deceased Dr. Marroe. If this didn’t work out, if he was wrong, then he would have to do what he promised Aria he wouldn’t. He would have to contact his uncle and beg him to save his family.
No matter what was going on, Ian wanted to believe his uncle wouldn’t kill his own blood. During the skirmish with Jasper, Ian knew he wasn’t the target. If he had been, he was sure he’d be dead already. That meant Vincent hadn’t given orders to kill him.
Turning off of a busy street, Ian pulled into a fast food drive-thru, ordered a burger meal, then pulled back into traffic. He ate while he drove, not wanting to waste any more time. If his assumptions were right, Aria would continue to get sicker, just lik
e his mother had.
“Please don’t let me be crazy,” he said to himself as he followed the directions he’d mapped out. Wasn’t he crazy, though? To draw a conclusion based on a conversation you had with a man who treated you for severe allergies over ten years ago was crazy. That’s what had brought him to Texas—an innocent conversation that the average person would have written off.
But Ian hadn’t. In fact, he remembered every detail of the rare, odd yet eventful talk he and Dr. Marroe had. He was certain that it was Dr. Marroe that had come to his hospital room in the middle of the night and injected him years ago. And if he was right, if Marroe had left clues in that unlikely conversation so that Ian could find him one day, then maybe he would be able to help Aria.
Ian reached over to the passenger seat and grabbed a handful of fries, cramming them into his mouth before glancing at the map. That little distraction almost caused him to miss his turn. To make it, he had to quickly brake and swerve into a sharp right turn. A motorist behind him beeped his horn and yelled curses, but no one had gotten hurt and Ian had made the turn, so he continued on his way.
Driving slower now that he was in a residential neighborhood, Ian paid close attention to traffic and pedestrians. It was early evening, the time when all the children were outside playing and there were a lot of them here. Two more turns and a half mile later, he parked the loaner car in front of a large lot that resembled an island oasis.
Palm trees, huge potted plants, and a stone path led to an earth toned home with a welcome mat that said, Wipe Your Damn Feet. Ian raised his brow, but stepped up on the mat and did what it instructed. He knocked four times before he heard a male voice.
“This had better be important ‘cause I don’t own a DVR and I’m missing my damn show.” There was a creak from the other side of the door, but it didn’t open. The resident looked through a peephole. “Who the hell is it?”