“One more push, Maddie and your baby will be here. This is it. Just one more push.” Looking into Flame’s eyes, I took a deep breath and pushed. I gasped as I felt my baby being born. Flame’s lips were parted but he was numb. In truth he had been numb for a while. His mind was protecting him from the pain he felt on seeing me in discomfort.
I focused on Ruth and my baby in her arms. “A girl,” Ruth announced, checking her tiny body, cutting the cord and wiping her skin. “You have a baby girl.” A rush of happiness, so magnificent, washed through me and left me breathless. I cried out in elation, happiness pouring forth from my mouth, into the sacred air around us. And then our baby cried. Her voice pierced the air, the sound anchoring her to my heart. I could not take my eyes off her, as Ruth brought her to my chest.
Mae released my hand as I held our baby to my bare chest. Her warm skin felt perfect against mine, like it was always meant to be. The tears pouring from my eyes blanketed my vision. With my hand still clasped in Flame’s, I wiped at my eyes and truly looked at our daughter. The world paused, time itself stilled, as I glanced down at the living example of our love. My arms shook slightly with the sheer magnitude of the moment.
I was a mother.
I am a mother.
“I love you,” I declared and kissed the top of her head. I choked on a laugh at her short cropping of hair. It was jet black… just like her mama’s and papa’s. “Flame,” I cried and looked at my husband. His gaze was fixed on our daughter. “We have a baby girl.” I cried. “We have a precious baby girl.” Flame did not speak. He simply stared at our daughter. Stared, speechless at the living miracle in my arms.
“You are perfect,” I said to our daughter and ran my finger over her tiny brow.” Her eyes opened and dark blue eyes stared back at me. The sight captured my breath and welded itself on to my soul. “Hello…” I repeated. I squeezed Flame’s hand which helped me to support her back. “Beatrix,” I said, and I smiled at our little girl. “Beatrix Mary Cade.”
Flame hissed through his teeth, the first sound he had made in quite some time. When I met his eyes, he was looking at me. “Mary…” I explained, “In honor of your mama, Flame. Mary, the woman who gave you to me.” I choked back a sob. “The woman with Isaiah in her arms, who is right now looking down on you from Heaven. And she is smiling.”
“Beatrix Mary Cade,” Mae repeated from beside me. I looked to my sisters. All three were standing by the bed. Mae kissed me on my forehead. “She is beautiful. Little Beatrix.”
“It means ‘blessed’. ‘She who brings happiness’.” Flame’s hand lay iron clasped in mine. Beatrix was our biggest blessing. She was our chance at happiness. “Flame…” I said, smiling, so overcome with unspeakable joy. I shifted on the bed, “Baby, would you like to hold her?” I said, moving to let Flame meet his daughter. Flame moved back from the bed as though she were a naked flame and he a statue of stone. “Flame?” Flame released my hand and got to his feet. He backed away from the bed, eyes wide. But his dark stare never moved from Beatrix. I held her closer. My heart sank at seeing my husband so scared. His fingers ran down his arms, yet he never looked away from Beatrix, as if he glanced away, she would disappear.
“It is okay,” I hushed, hating how scared he appeared, how petrified he was of our baby. Our precious, delicate baby. “It is okay, baby. We are both okay.” Flame dropped to the chair beside us, still watching over us. But he made no move to hold her. He did not speak. Yet I could see the love for her in his eyes. Beatrix started crying, and the blood drained from his face. Realization dawned in my tired mind. Isaiah had cried… Flame had held him because he had cried, then his tears had dried and his crying ceased. “She is well,” I assured Flame, heart melting when I stroked his cheek with my finger.
He grasped my hand like a thirsty man would grasp a glass of water. My hand was held in both of his, as though I had caught him in prayer. Beatrix stopped crying as I kissed her cheek. “Our daughter, Flame,” I emphasized, the acknowledgment of our miracle spoken aloud.
As I stared in adoration and awe at our daughter, I knew Flame loved her. I could feel it in his hold on my hand. But I could feel his fear too—my scared, lost, and broken boy. As I kissed Flame’s fingers, then kissed Beatrix’s cheek, I felt blessed beyond words, beyond what I deserved. And with one glance into our daughter’s eyes, I knew Flame would come to us eventually. He would embrace her love. She was our redemption, our salvation, and the union of our souls. I would give Flame the time he needed, steering him away from his fears and toward Beatrix’s warmth and light.
We had a daughter.
Our Beatrix.
Our hearts.
Our beautiful girl.
Chapter Fourteen
Flame
She was crying. I could hear her crying. The cellar’s walls were cold and hurt my skin. My hands hit the side of my head. I couldn’t hold her. I couldn’t fucking hold her. I’d hurt her. But she kept on crying.
Her crying hurt my ears. I didn’t want to look in the corner where she was. I didn’t wanna look. But her crying got louder and louder until I couldn’t take it. I rocked back and forth, the dirt wall of the cellar grinding into my back. “Stop,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut. “Stop crying!”
But she didn’t.
My heart was racing, the flames in my blood were burning my veins. She cried and cried. I couldn’t take it anymore. I moved to the corner where she laid. She only wore a diaper, but her skin was red. She had black hair on her little head… and then she turned to face me. I froze. I couldn’t fucking move as I looked at her face. “Beatrix,” I whispered. She looked at me. Her eyes looked right at me. There was a fucking fist around my heart when she did. “Beatrix,” I whispered. She looked like Maddie. She looked just like my Maddie. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” I pleaded, but her crying got louder. “Please, don’t make me, don’t make me…” Beatrix screamed, and I rushed forward, screaming myself as I took hold of her tiny body. She was so small in my arms. Her head rested in my palms, her little legs along my forearms. I looked down at her and felt my chest go tight. Something started choking my throat, something I couldn’t get out. Maddie… Beatrix looked just like Maddie.
“Maddie… help,” I pleaded, but Maddie wasn’t here. We were alone in the cellar. Maddie had died. Maddie had cut her wrists because I’d touched her. “NO!” I screamed when I remembered Maddie on the bed. She’d died after I’d held her hand. My vision blurred. “I can’t do it without you, Maddie. I can’t live without you.” But Maddie was gone. He’d put Beatrix in the cellar with me.
Her skin was hot. Too hot. The flames… the flames… I felt the flames grow hotter in my blood. Beatrix’s skin got hotter and hotter. Then her breathing shallowed. She stared at me the whole time. “No,” I whispered as she started taking strange breaths. “One,” I whispered, trying to keep her breathing, desperately trying not to burn her with my touch.