A Greater Love

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A Greater Love Page 18

by Rachel Ann Nunes


  “We love you, too,” she added. “We want you both to stay and live with us. To be part of our family.”

  Daniel cast her a grateful look, and the warmth inside of Miguel increased. They wanted him? Maybe they even loved him. He was afraid to move because the unfamiliar feelings might disappear.

  “But there’s something else you need to know.” Daniel paused only a second before dropping the bomb. “I’m responsible for your father’s death.”

  The words slashed at the warmth Miguel felt. Frozen numbness replaced the heat. “What happened?” He knew it had all been too good to be true. Was Daniel a murderer? Was it Daniel’s fault he and Sara were alone in the world? Was Daniel the reason his mother had cried at night until her heart broke and she died?

  Daniel rubbed his fingers through his hair. “I had invented a new net,” he began after an agonizing moment of silence. “It was a long time ago and they have better ones on the market now, but then it was the first of its kind. Manuel told me it wasn’t ready, but I urged the ship’s captain to use it. The first time, we caught three times the fish we normally did and I was a hero. Even your father became less opposed to using it. But the second time we went out, something went wrong. We tried to pull it up, but it was no use. Just then, a storm brewed up. I was furious, so I dove under the ship to see what happened and found that the net had become stuck on an underwater reef. I hadn’t yet made provisions in the design for that likelihood. Like Manuel had said, the net wasn’t ready to be used commercially. I knew that if I didn’t free it, the ship could capsize. So I began to cut the lines.

  “Somehow I became entangled, and I guess when I didn’t come up for air, your father became worried. I remember knowing I was going to die, feeling my lungs screaming. I had to fight the urge to simply let my mouth open and breathe in the water and be done with it.

  “The next thing I knew Manuel was beside me, cutting away the ropes. Only by that time the storm had hit. We made it to the top just as the boat capsized. It was literally torn apart, broken. Manuel had hold of the nets—he still had some idea of freeing them from the rocks—and they pulled him under. I went after him, but I couldn’t find him. Then the others came by in a little boat—they’d all gotten off safely while we were under the water—and they picked me up. I never saw Manuel again.”

  “Didn’t ya try to find him?” Sara watched Daniel with troubled eyes.

  Miguel’s anger replaced the numbness in his heart. He wanted to kill Daniel.

  “Of course he did!” Cristina said. “He went down over and over, trying to find your father. So did the others. Many more almost died in the debris. Finally the captain made them stop. Daniel was in the hospital for a week, suffering from being in the cold water for so long. Then he went to find your mother, but she was gone. He thought she’d gone back to her parents. He didn’t know she was living with Octávia. Or that she was in need.”

  “Because I didn’t look far enough.” Daniel’s shoulders bent in defeat as his gaze locked with Miguel’s. From his seat on the bench, they were near the same height. “I’m the one who caused it all. I should have done more to fix it. I’m responsible for your father’s death, and there’s no excuse for that. I should have listened to him. I’ve asked myself why I didn’t a billion times, but I still have no answer. But one thing I swear to you is that if I could have died in your father’s place, I would have done so willingly. Please believe me, Miguel. Please! I’m asking you to let me help you and love you as I can’t help your father. Give me a second chance!”

  Daniel wept openly and Miguel’s anger ebbed. What had Daniel done? Had he really been responsible? For a reason he couldn’t explain, Miguel thought of the cobbler and how he’d been hurt when the boys had thrown the bottle bombs. He wondered if the man was all right. It was all Miguel’s fault he’d suffered. How awful he would feel if the man had died! And how much more terrible would he have felt if it had been Sara or Octávia, or someone he loved.

  What was it his mother had once said? Sometimes you’ve got to die to save those you love. Had she been talking about his father and Daniel? She must have been! Maybe she hadn’t blamed Daniel for his father’s death, just as she had told him the Savior hadn’t blamed the people who had caused His. What were the words she had used? “Forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

  Miguel thought of the little baby in the nativity display. Jesus had known what He was doing, giving up his life, and probably so had his father. Even Miguel knew that life on the sea meant dangers and risks. He stared at Daniel. Would he trade this man’s life for his father’s? At first it had seemed so clear, but now he was relieved the choice wasn’t his.

  What would he do if Daniel was under the boat right now, drowning? Actually, his face looked as though he were drowning, fighting for air, for life. What does that mean to me?

  Miguel’s heart pounded in his ears, but he knew what he would do. If Daniel were dying, Miguel would save him, even if he died doing it.

  “He musta loved ya a lot,” Miguel said softly.

  Wonder filled Daniel’s eyes. “As much as I loved him. As much as I love you, Miguel.” Daniel stood and opened his arms, and for a moment Miguel glimpsed the man’s soul. Daniel meant every word.

  Miguel took a step forward, then another and another, until Daniel’s arms closed around him in a bear hug. The comfortable warmth was back, and for a moment, Miguel felt as though two other people hugged him as well: Manuel and Ana Paula, his birth parents.

  “I’m going to make you happy!” Daniel promised fiercely. “I’m going to teach you everything you ever dreamed of!”

  Miguel smiled shyly. “I don’t know how to read,” he confessed in a whisper that only Daniel could hear.

  Daniel wiped his face on his sleeve, and when he answered his voice was husky. “I know. We’re going to change all that.” His arms tightened again and Miguel stayed right there, feeling awkward but completely happy. He heard Sara laugh as she jumped from the bench onto Daniel’s back. He grabbed her and swung her around to join in their embrace.

  “I wanna stay, too,” she said. “But can ya tell us stories about our parents?”

  “Oh, yes. And we’ll find others who knew them and get copies of all the pictures they might have. I have some myself tucked away at home.” He tickled Sara until she screamed for release. Lucky jumped up from the floor and barked madly.

  “Do you mind if I give them the boxes now?” Cristina asked as the excitement diminished. When Daniel nodded, she handed Miguel and Sara each a small box wrapped in gold paper.

  “It ain’t Christmas yet,” Sara protested. “Not until tonight.”

  “It isn’t Christmas yet,” Daniel corrected gently. “This is an early present. From your parents.”

  Miguel ripped open the gift. He recognized the link of his mother’s necklace immediately, but it had been cut to a smaller size. Sara had an identical one. “I had your mother’s necklace divided for you,” Cristina told them with a big smile.

  So that’s why Sara wouldn’t give it to him.

  “Look, we both got ships, too.” Sara fingered the boat on her necklace. “They’re exactly the same.”

  “The other charm is your Zodiac sign, the month you were born. We think your mother bought those. Or perhaps they were a gift from someone.”

  Miguel stared at his ship. “How come there’s two?”

  Daniel put a hand on his shoulder. “Remember when I said both your father and I got one with the name of our ship on the back? One was his that he gave to your mother, and the other was mine.”

  One from each of their fathers. Miguel’s face flushed at the thought, but he was too happy to care.

  Sara danced around Miguel in excitement. “I saw before. Daniel showed me. I knowed—” She glanced at Daniel. “I knew there was two.”

  “I think before we set sail,” Cristina said, “that maybe it’s time No Name had a real name. This could be the maiden voyage for our newly-christened ship.�


  “What name were you thinking of?” asked Daniel.

  “How about the Ana Paula?”

  Miguel thought that was exactly right.

  Chapter Nineteen

  They sailed for less than an hour, the children enjoying every minute. Daniel was entirely happy, except he’d caught Cristina staring at him several times over the picnic basket. Once, when the children were involved with the items in his sea chest, she had cleared her throat as if to tell him something important. Then she clamped her lips before anything could escape.

  What was she hiding? She’d never confessed what was bothering her the day he’d found Miguel. Was it so bad? Couldn’t she see that whatever it was, they would face it together? She said she loved him and he loved her—wasn’t that all that really mattered?

  “Are you feeling up to going to the display tonight?” Cristina turned in the front seat of the car, directing the question toward Miguel. Both children looked tired, but happy. The frightened anger had left Miguel’s eyes and Daniel felt hopeful that one day his haunted look would entirely fade.

  When Daniel had held his breath, waiting for the boy’s response to his confession, he’d understood that he loved Miguel and Sara. Until that moment he’d never fathomed Cristina’s need for a child so perfectly. He needed them every bit as much as they needed him. Perhaps more. Nothing could take the place of his love for Cristina, but, also, nothing could replace the love of a child. He’d prayed harder than he’d ever prayed in that moment of truth. He still couldn’t believe Miguel had forgiven him.

  “We could go home and rest a bit first before we go,” Cristina added.

  Sara smiled her angelic grin. “I wanna see the Baby Jesus again.”

  Miguel looked thoughtful. “Yeah,” he agreed hesitantly, glancing at Lucky. “But first I’d . . . well . . .”

  “Come on, speak up.” Daniel said, glancing in the rearview mirror. “We need to be open with what we want. You may not get everything, but we’ll try to compromise on most things. I, for one, don’t really want to go tonight, but if you all want to, then I’ll come along.”

  Miguel chewed on his lip. “It’s not that, it’s just . . . you see, there’s a man who got hurt, and he’s Lucky’s real owner. I think I should go see if he’s okay.”

  The explanation made sense only because Daniel had spent the last six days pumping Sara for information. He was pleased that Miguel was worried about the man. “Does he live over by where you used to live?”

  “Close by.”

  Daniel glanced at Cristina and she nodded. “It’s a bit far, but you two can rest just as well in the car, I suppose.”

  “But Lucky likes us.” While Miguel’s face was emotionless, Sara’s showed her misery. “Miguel, don’t take him back. Please.” She hugged the dog, who licked her cheek twice.

  Daniel hated to interfere but knew he owed it to both children. “Sara, if Lucky isn’t yours, you can’t keep him. It’s not right. But that doesn’t mean we can’t ask the real owner about keeping him.” The furrow in Miguel’s forehead decreased slightly.

  Because of the Christmas Eve traffic, it took them more than an hour to arrive at the cobbler’s shop. “It’s been fixed,” Sara said, eyeing the storefront. “Looks as good as new. Want me to go in with ya?” Her lower lip quivered.

  “Naw. Stay here.” Miguel slipped quickly from the car.

  Sara hugged Lucky so tight he gave a little yelp. “I love ya, boy,” she whispered. “Don’t forget me. I won’t forget you.” She let the puppy go. He bounded out of the car and into Miguel’s arms, wriggling all over with his customary excitement.

  Daniel left the car and went around to stand with Miguel. “I’m really proud of you,” he told the boy. “I’d like to go with you, if you don’t mind.” A flash of gratitude swept over Miguel’s face. He didn’t speak, but nodded sharply.

  The shop had been rebuilt, but wasn’t yet reopened, though Daniel could see a stocky man through the glass. He rapped on it to get the man’s attention.

  “It’s him,” Miguel said. “He ain’t—he isn’t dead.” There was relief in his voice, but his arms tightened around Lucky.

  The cobbler held up a finger indicating that they should wait, then he the put down a notebook and limped toward them. “We’re not open anymore,” the man announced when he opened the door. “You’ll have to take your shoes elsewhere. Unless you left a pair of shoes here before the bombing. You’re welcome to look, if you did. If we can’t find them or if they’re ruined, the insurance will pay for them.”

  “We’re not here for shoes,” Daniel said. He nodded at Miguel, who swallowed hard. Tears made rivulets down his thin cheeks. Daniel wished he could grab both the boy and the dog and retreat to the car, but he knew he couldn’t do that, at least not if he wanted to raise Miguel and Sara knowing the difference between right and wrong, a line they hadn’t much practice drawing.

  “It—it’s Lucky,” Miguel stammered. “I mean this puppy. I was here when those bombs went off. They took you away and he was all alone. I shoulda brought him back sooner. I took good care of him.” He thrust the puppy into the cobbler’s hands and turned away. Lucky sniffed the man and licked him a few times, obviously unafraid, then squirmed to get down.

  The cobbler held on. “Wait!” he called. Miguel paused and looked up, trembling. “Thank you for taking care of him,” the cobbler continued. “I was worried when they couldn’t find him. His mother died in the explosion, but no one could find the puppy. I thought he ran away and got run over or something.”

  “He’s a good dog,” Daniel replied, seeing that Miguel couldn’t speak.

  “He’s grown a lot. I didn’t even recognize him. He must have eaten quite a bit.”

  Daniel forced a chuckle. “Almost as much as Miguel.” He looked at the boy’s desolate face and plunged on. “Fact is, we’re going to miss him, especially Miguel here. You know, if you were willing to part with him, we’d be glad to buy him. For whatever you ask.” Daniel met the cobbler’s eyes, wishing Miguel was in the car so that he could explain how much the boy had already lost and how the puppy had given him comfort in the midst of grief and heartache. “Please,” Daniel added quietly. He could, of course, buy another dog, but Miguel already loved Lucky. Even now, the boy’s sad eyes drank in the last memories of his puppy.

  The cobbler looked back and forth between them. “I can see you love him,” he said, lifting Lucky slightly. “And it’s obvious he loves you. Truth is, I would be glad for you to keep him.”

  Miguel’s mouth fell open in astonishment. “But it’s my fault the boys ruined your shop. It was me they was throwin’ the bottles at. Because—because of somethin’ I did to ’em.”

  The cobbler laughed. “Something they deserved, no doubt. But come now, it’s not your fault they chose such dangerous vengeance, is it?”

  “Well . . .”

  “Of course it’s not,” Daniel agreed.

  “If you don’t take this puppy,” the cobbler said, “I don’t know what I’ll do with him. You see, I’m selling the shop and moving in with my daughter. I’m getting too old to work so hard, and I’ve decided to let her take care of me for a time. At least until my insides are mended. Anyway, she doesn’t like dogs, never did. Now, are you going to take this puppy, or do I have to find another boy?” He held out the dog.

  A huge grin nearly cracked Miguel’s face in two. “Oh, Lucky, I get to keep ya! Thank you! Thank you!” He buried his face in the dog’s fur.

  Daniel drew his wallet from his pocket. “I can never thank you enough. What do I owe you?”

  “Not a thing, young man.” The cobbler’s eyes shone. “Just keep taking care of him—of him and the dog. That’s a fine boy you’re raising.”

  “I know.” Daniel clasped the other man’s hand with a firm grip. “I’ll do my best.”

  The ride back to the Cova da Piedade was considerably happier than the one to Campo Grande. “Is there anything else you want to buy for Christmas
?” Daniel asked Cristina.

  “I’ve done nothing but shop for the past few days. I think I have everything. We need to trim the tree, though. We should do it now.”

  “Yeah!” Sara shouted. Lucky barked and Miguel smiled in satisfaction.

  When they arrived home, they found a thin, gray-haired man pacing outside their apartment building. Daniel felt a twinge of apprehension, but the children ran toward him. “Senhor Fitas!” they cried, but stopped short of hugging the old man.

  “Who’s he?” Cristina’s face also held uneasiness.

  Daniel put on his business mask. “Let’s go ask.”

  It didn’t take long for the children and Senhor Fitas to explain. “I worried when they didn’t come so long for the fruit,” he said, transferring the plastic sack he carried to the other hand. “I did some searching and found out about Octávia, the poor woman, and became even more concerned. I called the authorities and a man named António Bernardino gave me your address. I had to come for myself to see that they were okay.”

  “We shoulda told ya where we was goin’,” Sara said.

  “As long as you two are okay. I—uh, brought you some Christmas presents.” He lifted the plastic sack.

  “Would you like to stay for tea?” Cristina asked over the children’s delighted exclamations. “We were just going to have some.”

  “Well . . .”

  “Come now. It’s a good day for it.”

  “All right, then. I’d like to.”

  The children and Cristina went ahead, but Senhor Fitas matched paces with Daniel. “I swear I didn’t know about Octávia. If I had, I would have tried harder to find them.”

  “At least you tried,” Daniel replied. “I tried to send them to the orphanage.”

  “But now?”

  “We’re going to try to adopt them.”

  “Having met you, I hoped that’s what you would say. I’m an old widower. I didn’t think I had a chance to keep them myself, but I’ve always regretted never having any children. I’ll always wonder what I missed.”

 

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