Valerie knew firsthand how dreadful it had been. She’d seen it all.
With grim, excruciating misery, she hugged Ethan closer to her heart and wept anew. “Oh, God. Not Angie.”
Jeremy leaned forward and smothered his sobs on the edge of the mattress. Valerie laid her hand on the back of his head and ran her fingers through his hair, doing her best to offer comfort and love, for she understood his pain. She, too, was struggling through the worst kind of suffering.
After a moment, he sat up and wiped away his tears. “He’syourbaby,” he insisted.
“Why do you keep saying that?” she asked. “I’m telling you it’s not true. I would know my own son.”
“But he needs you,” Jeremy explained. “He needs a mother. I could be his dad if you wanted. We could go anywhere. We could keep him safe. You and me.”
Valerie swallowed over a coarse lump in her throat. Her heart wept for her own loss but also for Jeremy’s—for the loss of his beautiful dream with Angie. She reached out and held his hand. “I’m so sorry she’s gone.”
He looked away, his whole body full of grief.
“But I can’t steal someone else’s child,” Valerie said. “I couldn’t live with a lie like that.”
Jeremy’s eyes were downcast. He looked sullen. Ashamed.
Valerie touched Ethan’s pudgy little nose, then placed her pinkie in his palm. He clasped her finger.
For a fleeting moment, she imagined running away with Jeremy and living abroad where no one would ever know that Ethan didn’tbelong to them. Butshewould know. And she would never stop grieving and longing for her own son. No child could ever replace Cameron. And she would always feel guilty—not just because it was wrong but because of what had happened mere hours before, when the town had been flooding and she’d thought she was going to die.
“Joe saved my life,” she said to Jeremy.
His eyes lifted and grew wide with astonishment.
“When I was running after the wave that took Cameron,” she continued, “a crack opened up in the road ahead of me. I fell into it, at least six feet, and broke my leg, and water started pouring in. I thought it was going to be my grave until Joe suddenly appeared. He jumped in and lifted me out. He almost didn’t make it out himself, but others came to help, and we both survived. Another miracle, I suppose.”
Jeremy looked down at his hands, and Valerie sensed that he didn’t want to hear about Joe’s act of heroism. His heart was still full of jealousy.
“He’s in pain tonight,” Valerie said, “just like you, knowing that his wife has died and believing that his son is also dead. He needs to know the truth. And you should be the one to deliver it since you’re the one who saved Ethan.”
Jeremy said nothing for a moment. Then at last he nodded.
A town official darted into the room and spoke quickly. “I don’t want to alarm you, but the oil tanks on the waterfront have caught fire, and there’s a tsunami warning. We need to evacuate the building. Someone will be here to help you in a few minutes.” He ran off to continue spreading the news and organize the evacuation.
Would the misfortune never end? Valerie looked down at Ethan sleeping soundly in her arms. He was blessed to have survived the unthinkable events of the day, but he had lost his mother.
And where was Cameron? Stinging tears flooded Valerie’s eyes, and her head throbbed from the weight of her anguish.
But perhaps there was still hope. If Ethan had been spared when everyone else on the docks had perished, anything was possible, wasn’t it?
She squeezed Jeremy’s hand. “Can you get the nurse? We need to tell her that this isn’t my baby. We need to tell her that he belongs to Joe Brown.”
Jeremy finally stood and left the room to find someone.
CHAPTER 25
Valdez
1964
Hot, riotous flames burned stubbornly on the waterfront, feeding off the spillage of oil at the Union Oil Tank Farm. The nearby Village Morgue Bar was also ablaze, surrendering quickly to the merciless will of the fire. The old, timeworn timbers sizzled and groaned as they fractured and came crashing down.
The sun had set over an hour ago, but the sky was brightly lit over the burning tanks. Joe backed away from the heat, squinting into the blinding glare and pressing his nose into the crook of his arm to shield his face from the smoke. Firefighters did their best, but it was a losing battle.
Joe’s partner, Edwards, laid a hand on his shoulder. “There’s nothing more we can do here.”
