The man began running down the stairs. Chrissie saw him reach into his coat pocket for his gun. She didn’t have time to think, just to react. She pulled the trigger and shot the man in the chest. He fell the rest of the way down the stairs.
“Nicely done.” Franco smirked. “Maybe I should’ve hired you instead of these idiots I brought with me today.” He walked over to Brant and held a gun to his head. “I suggest that if you would like to see your love’s brains stay inside his head, you put down your gun.”
Chrissie gently dropped the Glock to the floor and stood with her hands up. She would do anything for him. She had lost this battle.
“Valencia, why didn’t you tell me this pretty girl is Brant’s wife resurrected from the dead? My men said he was with a woman.” He turned to Chrissie. “I didn’t think it would be you … alive. I could have sworn you were dead when I left.”
Valencia glared at Chrissie with imaginary death rays shooting from her eyes. “His wife? I didn’t know she’s his wife.”
“Yes, I paid her a visit on their honeymoon. A very interesting visit, my dear. To keep Brant’s secret, she took both vials at once, like it was something she did every day. She just tipped her head back and didn’t even blink an eye about it.”
Brant’s eyes grew wide over the top of the duct tape covering his mouth.
“Room service will never be the same, will it?” Franco said as he walked over to Chrissie. The scar over his face looked angry against his calm demeanor. “She wasn’t even intimidated by my guys trashing the room. She held her chin up in defiance right to the very end.” Franco slid his finger under Chrissie’s chin.
A sharp pain radiated through Chrissie’s stomach. She gasped, holding her midsection tight. Brant stood and tried to yell through the duct tape, struggling against the ropes that bound him.
Arturo, sitting next to Brant, dropped his head in what seemed like silent prayer. The sad sight of the kind old man tied up and gagged made Chrissie angry as she breathed through the contraction.
“The slut is pregnant,” Valencia seethed.
Time to test if the legend is real.
“I will take Valencia to the garden.” Chrissie said firmly. “You’re more than welcome to come with us.” Now more than ever, she wanted the legend of the garden to be true.
Franco stared at her through small slits. “What do you have up your sleeve? I think I will send Valencia alone with you.”
“Nothing,” she lied. “Valencia can even take me at gunpoint. She can get a sample of the water and come back to prove it by taking it herself or giving it to you. That way, she can show you where it is once you get rid of us.”
“Deal.” Franco smiled smugly. “Valencia, dear, get the gun off Lopez. He won’t be needing it anymore. Bring me back some water too, if you’re still alive.”
“My pleasure.” Valencia grumbled, but walked over to the dead man on the floor and took the gun that was halfway out of his pocket. “Come on. Let’s go.” She waved with her gun. “I need a drink of water.”
“Chrissie, will you please leave the door open to the garden?” María asked politely. “It will make it easier for Mr. Santiago to find later.”
“Okay,” Chrissie said curiously as she stepped around Franco and headed to the library with Valencia close at her heels. She tipped the appropriate books, and the cases slid away from the cave entrance.
“No funny business.” Valencia jabbed the nozzle of the gun into Chrissie’s back.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Chrissie said. She took the lantern off the peg and began to descend into the cave.
“You know, I’m going to enjoy shooting you after you show me to the water.” Valencia smiled as she pushed Chrissie forward with the tip of the gun.
“Hmm, you don’t say. Well, today is your lucky day,” Chrissie said coolly.
They came to the end of the tunnel, and Chrissie opened the heavy door.
“Finally,” Valencia breathed. She pushed Chrissie aside and entered the garden first. As soon as her red stiletto touched the green grass, Chrissie could feel the garden magic begin to pulse hard, like a war drum. “Which path do I take?”
“The middle one.” Chrissie pointed.
“Get over here,” Valencia demanded. “You lead the way.”
Chrissie followed her orders and began the trek. The magic pulsed even harder with every step she took. She looked around at the trees to see them quiver with the pulse. Valencia seemed oblivious.
“I can hear running water. We’re close enough. I don’t need you anymore. I can shoot you now,” Valencia said as she took off the safety and aimed at Chrissie.
If the legend is correct, now’s the time for it to start working, Chrissie silently prayed.
A macaw in the trees screamed, startling Valencia as the beat intensified. Valencia’s face started to turn pink, and her hands flew up to her neck. “I can’t breathe,” she gasped.
“Only the pure of heart can enter in the garden,” Chrissie said calmly. “Your intentions weren’t pure, and now you’re learning the hard way.”
Valencia turned to try to escape the garden, but only made it three steps before collapsing to the ground.
She lay still as Chrissie approached cautiously. Chrissie turned Valencia over to see the horror frozen on her dead face.
“The garden has chosen,” she said as she picked up the gun from Valencia’s stiff grip. A contraction seized Chrissie as she crumpled to her knees. “Please give me strength,” she whispered as she breathed through the pain.
She pulled herself up to standing and walked to the cave to go save the people she loved, making certain to leave the garden door wide open.
* * *
Seconds seemed like hours while Chrissie was gone with Valencia. There wasn’t anything Brant could do. His hope started to wane as the minutes dragged on. Everyone he loved was about to be ripped away from him.
María flew to Chrissie’s side as she appeared in the library doorway, holding her abdomen.
Brant’s eyes widened with fear. Something is terribly wrong. Chrissie looks like she’s in pain. His efforts to rip through the cords that bound him began anew.
“Where’s Valencia?” Franco said angrily.
“The garden has chosen her to die. She didn’t make it back.” Chrissie threw the gun at Franco’s feet.
“Prove it.” Franco demanded.
“Feel the gun—it’s not even hot. I didn’t kill her. I dare you to go down and see for yourself.”
Franco picked up the gun and threw it out the window, which shattered into hundreds of sharp shards of glass.
Brant watched Chrissie in awe. She isn’t even afraid of Franco, because she knows the power of the garden. She’s going to try to lure him down there too. His eyes widened in shock from the realization that the legend was true. There was no doubt in his mind that the garden knew the intentions of one’s heart. He never had actually seen it work. The truth was he’d never let anyone get close enough to try the legend out.
“You’re messing with something you know nothing about,” María spat.
“Don’t I?” Franco mocked. “The Fountain of Youth will make me the richest man on the earth. I will have power beyond what anyone could imagine. Now I will have to kill all of you except one to harvest the water for me, since the garden kills.”
“No, the protecting spirits kill. I’ve marked you with a curse. This is your last chance to leave.” María’s hands shook with anger.
“I’m not going anywhere, witch.” He pulled a gun from his jacket. It popped, sending a bullet whizzing by María, narrowly missing her.
Brant’s heartbeat picked up pace as he racked his brain for a way out of this mess with the smallest number of casualties. The only person who needed to die was Franco.
María began chanting an ancient Indian song. The almost-forgotten language was one Brant had not heard very often. The pulse of magic grew louder as it climbed out of the cave and traveled into th
e mansion.
Chrissie stepped back and slid down the wall to the floor, beads of perspiration dotting her brow. María flashed a concerned look over at Chrissie, but continued on with her ancient chant. Step by step, she walked toward Franco, staring him down.
“Shut up!” Franco yelled as he backhanded María across the face.
Brant tried to yell through the tape. He admired the way that the slap didn’t even faze María.
María stood her ground, her hair covering her face. The chant continued on, getting louder and stronger. María was drawing on the power of the garden. She looked up at Franco with anger radiating from her face.
For the first time, Franco’s eyes betrayed him. They showed fear as he backed away from María. He began gasping for breath as María continued chanting and pointed at Franco on the final loud chant. He instantly fell to the floor, dead.
María’s face aged years as Brant watched, and a new silver streak appeared in her black hair. She had to pay a price to use a magic like that—it had taken a toll on her body.
Chapter 23
María stepped over Franco’s dead body and began untying Brant. She left the duct tape for him to rip off. Arturo looked up at María with affection shining in his eyes as she tenderly began freeing him from the cords that bound him.
“María, if you could do that all along, why didn’t you do it earlier?” Brant rubbed his wrists.
“Pero it is far from traditional Christian beliefs, and I lose diez años of my life using the power. The ancients would never use it unless it was the last option.”
Another contraction seized Chrissie. Her face drained of color and her arms wrapped around her stomach as she curled up into a ball on the floor and cried. Brant was still trying to shed his ropes and duct tape as he stumbled to her.
“It’s too early,” Chrissie panted through the contraction.
“We need to get you to a hospital.” Brant helped Chrissie stand. Her water broke and gushed down her leg, leaving a puddle at her feet.
“It’s too late. We won’t make it. I think I’m getting too close,” Chrissie stammered. Her body began to shake. “I think I’ve been in labor for a little while.”
“Tell me what to do,” Brant pleaded to María.
“Take her up to your bed, Brant. I’ll be up in a minute after I help Arturo get these men loaded up in the back of your truck to haul down to the village.” María’s quiet voice calmed Brant momentarily. “Arturo will bring Dr. Wilson back with him.”
“Men?” Brant wondered out loud.
“Chrissie took them out one by one. Four people total—she’s very tricky.” María patted Brant on the back. “Now you get her up to bed. I’ll get started preparing for the baby to arrive.”
Brant scooped Chrissie up in his arms. He had to step over one of the thug’s bodies to get up the stairs. Chrissie clung to him and tried to relax her tightening muscles.
“If something happens to me don’t leave our baby’s side. I want her to at least be held by her daddy when she takes her last breath.”
“Her last breath?” The anguish in Brant’s voice resonated in Chrissie’s heart.
“Yes, she’ll be too little to survive outside the womb. She might’ve had a chance if we were in a modern hospital.” What could she do? She felt hopeless that all the medical knowledge she knew wouldn’t be enough to save her baby. Guilt racked her body. She felt like she had traded her baby’s life for Brant’s, but how could Chrissie have known that she was going to come early?
Brant walked into Chrissie’s small, humble room and laid her down on the bed. He went over to her dresser, pulled out a clean nightgown, and placed it by her side.
“Thanks.” Chrissie tried to smile. She had to be strong for the both of them. She could see Brant inwardly breaking. This baby meant everything to him, and Chrissie knew it. Her heartbreak would have to wait until she saw Brant through the worst of it.
Brant turned around as Chrissie changed into her clean nightgown. “I need to do something!” he yelled as he punched a hole through Chrissie’s closet door.
Chrissie gently turned him around as he raked his fingers through his hair. He always did that when he was stressed. She pulled down his hands and smoothed them out flat. “Yes, you do. Be here for me and our baby.” Another stronger contraction began. Chrissie sucked in her breath and leaned into Brant.
Brant wrapped his arms around Chrissie, and they swayed through the contraction. Chrissie grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and buried her face in his chest.
The contraction ended, and she stepped back toward the bed, rubbing her back. “I wish I was in the pool right now.”
“You can be, can’t you? I mean, it should help with the pain.” Brant guided Chrissie toward the door and down the hall to the indoor pool.
“Water births are all the rage in the States. I never thought I would ever have one. Well, I never thought I would be having a baby in Venezuela, either.” As Chrissie stepped to the pool’s edge, the water lapped up against the edge, inviting her in. She pulled off her nightgown, threw it to the side, and began to wade in.
Brant gasped. He reached down and tenderly caressed her stomach. “I’ve never seen you this way.”
“Nearly naked?” Chrissie asked.
“No. I mean, yes, I have.” Brant shook his head and blushed. “I’ve never really seen your belly like this.”
“I know this isn’t the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen.” Chrissie grimaced.
“No, you’re wrong. You’re absolutely stunning.” Brant smiled wearily and took off his shoes and socks. He waded into the pool with Chrissie. “Sorry I lost it back there, but I feel so helpless.”
“I do too.” Chrissie settled into the warm water, and she instantly relaxed. The water did help with the pain a little bit.
The contractions began to quicken in pace, and Chrissie panted through them. Brant moved in behind her, and she melted into him to work through the pain.
“Rub my lower back, please,” she whimpered as she rested her head in her arms on the pool’s edge.
María walked in. She looked several years older now. She didn’t have her usual happy and at-peace glow about her. She looked tired. “Arturo is heading down the mountain with all the men and Valencia piled up in the back of his truck. He will go straight to the jail and drop them off until officials from Caracas can pick them up. After that, he will fetch Dr. Wilson and return as quickly as possible.” María slipped off her leather sandals and entered the water. She escorted Chrissie to the bottom step in the pool.
María put her warm hands on Chrissie’s stomach. “You are getting close.” María smiled reassuringly at Chrissie. “Brant, sit behind Chrissie and let her rest against you.”
Brant obeyed and pulled Chrissie up against him.
Chrissie leaned back against his chest and relaxed. “I can feel it. I think I need to push,” she moaned.
“That’s good. Do what your body tells you, unless I tell you otherwise.” María commanded the situation better than any doctor Chrissie had seen. In all her two-hundred-plus years, how many babies had she delivered? “Brant, I want you to help her hold back her knees.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Brant was used to following María’s orders.
“Chrissie, I want you to take your mind somewhere else. Concentrate on the movement of the water lapping up against you. Block out all other noises.”
“Okay, here comes another one.” Chrissie knew a little of what to do, since she spent two weeks in nursing school doing an O.B. rotation. She curled around her belly and bore down. Tears slipped out the corners of her eyes, as the pain was more intense than anything else she had ever felt. Her body took over and urged her on to push through the burning sensation.
“That’s very good, mija. You’re a pro already. The baby is so small, she will probably be here in just a few pushes.” María exited the pool, gathered clean white towels from the linen closet, and briefly left the room for other supplies.
/> “She can’t leave me now! I need to push again.” Chrissie cried out. “I can feel it crowning.”
“Go ahead. Push. It will be okay,” Brant soothed her the best he could.
Chrissie pushed and gave up halfway through. “I can’t do it. It hurts too much.” Her body began to shake.
“You’re stronger than you think. You can do it.” Brant rubbed Chrissie’s lower back. “Do like María said and focus on the water.”
María came back, holding the familiar blue wrapped packages that were found in any hospital. She quickly tore open the packages and laid them out on a clean white towel on the edge of the pool. She entered into the pool again and returned to Chrissie just as another contraction began. “The baby’s head will be out with the next push. Then it should be only one more push until she’s completely out.”
Chrissie bore down again. Her face turned red from exertion as beads of perspiration dotted her forehead. The head of the baby slipped out.
“The baby is almost here.” María began to guide the baby into position. With the next contraction, the rest of the baby came out into María’s waiting hands. She pulled the baby up and laid her on Chrissie’s chest.
Brant began to weep. His body shook against Chrissie’s back.
Chrissie sighed with relief. “Oh, my sweet baby,” she cried as she cuddled the baby to her.
María tied off the cord with little white clamps. “Daddy, you ready to cut the cord?” She handed the surgical scissors to Brant.
“She’s here. A little girl, and she is beautiful.” Brant unashamedly cried as he cut the cord in one snip.
María placed a fluffy white towel over the baby lying curled on Chrissie’s chest to keep her warm. “Brant, you need to get out and wrap up the baby for just a minute. We still have the placenta to deliver.”
Brant gave a look of longing, obviously not wanting to leave Chrissie’s side. He eased the baby from Chrissie’s chest into a small tea towel that fit in the palm of his hands. “I won’t be far.” He got up, walked over to the wicker chairs, and sat. He began drying the baby, trying to keep her warm. The room seemed eerily silent. Chrissie waited to hear the baby cry, but she didn’t.
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