My darling Scarlett,
Congratulations on the birth of your son. We were so very pleased to hear the news.
Please give him this token of our affection and know that we cannot wait to meet the newest Wright.
Love,
Mother
Jameson shook his head in disgust, then looked into the box. A small silver rattle rested on a bed of velvet. He lifted the ridiculous toy to see the engraving that etched the handle. A large W was flanked by another W and a V.
Jameson dropped the rattle back in its box before he did something reckless and torched the damned thing.
His son’s name was William Vernon Stanton. He wasn’t a Wright. They weren’t allowed to claim any part of him.
He pushed off the table and draped his jacket over one of the chairs, then loosened his tie as he walked up the stairs. Light shone from beneath their bedroom door, but not William’s. Jameson pressed his ear to the door, and when he heard the soft rustling and one disgruntled protest, he went in and leaned over the small crib.
William looked up at him, tightly swaddled in the blanket his grandmother had sent from Colorado, and let loose a jaw-cracking yawn, then furrowed his brow.
“Yeah, I know what that means,” Jameson said softly, picking up his son and cradling him against his chest. How ironic that someone so very small had altered the gravity in his world. He pressed a kiss to the top of his head, breathing in his scent. “Did you have a good day?”
William grunted, then opened his mouth against Jameson’s shirt.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He rubbed small circles on William’s back, knowing that he didn’t have what he was looking for. “You might want to give her just a minute, kid. I hurt her feelings pretty badly.”
He swayed from side to side, trying to not only give Scarlett a few minutes alone but buy himself precious time to think of what he could do or say. Did he want to leave them here, in a country they weren’t legally entitled to, knowing they couldn’t get into the one they were, while he flew halfway around the world to face another enemy?
No.
The thought of leaving them behind was a knife to the gut. William was only six weeks old, and he’d already changed so much. He couldn’t imagine not seeing him grow up, leaving for a year—or more—and not recognizing his own son when he returned. And the thought of not seeing Scarlett? Unbearable.
“I’ll take him,” she said from the doorway.
Jameson turned to see her backlit against the hallway light, her arms already outstretched. “I like holding him,” he said softly.
Some of the ice melted in her eyes. “I would hope so, but unless you can feed him, you’re not going to like holding him for much longer.” She crossed the room, and Jameson reluctantly surrendered their son.
Scarlett settled into the rocking chair in the dimly lit corner, then looked up at him expectantly. “You don’t have to stay.”
He leaned against the wall and crossed his ankles. “I don’t have to leave, either. I’ve seen your breasts before. Not sure I’ve told you lately how magnificent they are.”
She rolled her eyes, but he could have sworn he saw color rise faintly in her cheeks. She settled their son to nurse with what had become practiced ease, and stroked his soft, black hair with her fingertips.
“I’m sorry,” Jameson said quietly.
Her fingers stilled.
“I should have talked it over with you while it was happening. I can make all the excuses in the world about not wanting to worry you, but they don’t matter. I was wrong to leave you in the dark.”
She slowly brought her gaze to meet his.
“If we had gone to the Pacific, I would have moved heaven and earth to send you to Colorado until I could come home. I would never have left you without making sure you were safe, and not just physically. I won’t make the mistake of leaving you out again.”
“Thank you.”
“I would…” He swallowed the prickly knot of anger rising in his throat. “I would really like to throw that rattle in the trash.”
“All right.”
His eyebrows rose. “You don’t care?”
“Not in the least. I would have put it with the rubbish myself, except I wanted you to know what was happening.” There was no jab in the statement, just facts.
“Thank you.” He watched her silently for a moment, choosing his next words carefully. “Your visa appointment is coming up in a few months, right?”
She nodded. “May.” Almost a year after they’d begun the process.
“I want you to promise me something,” he said softly.
“What?”
“Promise me that if anything happens to me, you’ll take him to the States.”
She blinked. “Don’t say things like that.”
He crossed the room, then dropped to her eye level, putting his hands on the arm of the rocking chair. “There is nothing more important to me than your lives—yours and William’s. Nothing. You’re right—it’s not just about us anymore. You’ll be safe in Colorado. Safe from the war, from poverty, from your god-awful parents. So please, promise me that you’ll take him.”
Her brow knit as she considered the request. “If something happens to you,” she clarified.
He nodded.
“Okay. I promise if anything happens to you, I’ll take William to Colorado.”
He leaned in slowly and brushed a chaste kiss over her lips. “Thank you.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m giving you permission to die.” Her gaze turned stern.
“Noted.” He kissed William’s head, then rose. “Since you’re feeding him, I’m going to go work on feeding you. I love you, Scarlett.”
“I love you, too.”
He left his wife and son in the nursery and went straight to the kitchen…and threw the rattle in the trash where it belonged.
Scarlett and William were Stantons.
They were his.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Georgia
Dear Jameson,
You’ve only been gone a few days, and yet I miss you as if it’s been years. This is so much harder than when we were at Middle Wallop. Now, I know what it’s like to be your wife. To lie beside you at night and wake to your smile in the morning. I asked again this morning about the transfer request, but so far there is no news. Hopefully tomorrow. I can’t bear being so far from you, knowing that you fly into danger and I can do nothing but sit here and wait. I can’t even welcome you home. I love you, Jameson. Stay safe. Our fates are intertwined, for I cannot exist in a world where you do not.