“You can walk faster than you can drive in first gear.”

Olivia put her hand on the gearshift. “I’m ready.”

Sadie laughed. “You ain’t facing down a mountain lion. It’ll be okay.”

Again, the clutch went in, the gear shifted with just a little bit of choppiness, and soon the two were picking up speed. By the time they had reached the main house, they had been through the first three gears.

Mrs. Fritz came out on the porch, smiling and nodding as Olivia drove around the circular driveway and brought the car around to the barn. She shut off the engine and climbed out, her chest puffed out as if she had slain a beast.

Sadie glanced toward Mrs. Fritz, who offered a slight nod of approval before she vanished back into the house. “That was really good, Miss Olivia.”

“Can we do it again?” Olivia asked. “Next time I’d like to drive on the roads.”

“Dr. Carter is sure to find out if you go out on the roads.”

“Maybe, but better to ask for forgiveness than get permission.”

“Did your mother tell you that too?”

“Yes she did.”

Olivia lay curled next to Edward, drawing comfort from his warmth, as she had since the first night they had slept together.

That night had been a scandalous three weeks after he had pulled her from the carnage. She had been home, alone in the dark, listening to the distant rumble of heavy bombers flying over the city. The room had suddenly felt painfully small, and she had risen and dressed in the dark.

Since the war and its bombing had begun, London residents had grown accustomed to living and moving in the dark. She’d made her way to his tiny apartment and knocked on his door. When he opened it and saw her bathed in shadows, he did not say a word or move a muscle. She was the one who stepped toward him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Their kisses were never tentative when they were in London. They had always held pent-up passion that had come from the stress of war.

Olivia thought she knew Edward. She had followed this brave man to America, knowing she was driven by her love and fear. Love for him and their unborn child but also fear of the bombs in the darkness. And when she had lost the child she was carrying on the voyage to America, he had cared for her with such tenderness. “There will be more babies,” he had whispered.

But in the last week since Olivia had seen how he had dismissed the suffering of that woman, she’d wondered.

She quietly slipped out from under the covers and put on her slippers. Moving carefully to avoid the floorboards that creaked, she left the bedroom and made her way down the stairs. She put on her coat and walked down the cobblestone pathway toward the greenhouse. The plants had begun to arrive; she, with Sadie’s help, would soon arrange them in the glistening space, filling the greenhouse with green, white, purple, and red blossoms.

She opened the door, greeted by the fragrant scents and the warmer air. Carefully she closed the door and crossed to the small sofa in the center. She curled up on the soft cushions and, hugging the folds of her coat close, stared up through the glass ceiling toward the clear night sky. When she was younger, she had known the constellations so well, and when the bombings had begun, plunging the city into darkness, she had become reacquainted with the stars.

Tonight, her guides were a waxing moon near the constellation Lynx and, to the east, Cassiopeia. Her hands slid to her belly, and she sat as still as she could, trying to calm her fear so that the baby growing inside her would flutter and move, reminding her he was going to be all right. “Just a small kick, my boy,” she whispered. “And then you can get back to sleep.”

Olivia had realized she was expecting again the day she and Sadie had driven to Lynchburg to see Edward. That had been part of her reason for going. She had wanted to share herself with him in the bright sunshine and share the exciting news with him. She was always calmest and happiest throughout the day.

The news had been on the tip of her tongue until the girl had captured their attention. Her screams had been so loud and agonizing. The sounds had transported Olivia back to London and the nights when similar screams were often heard in the rubble.

Edward’s response to the girl’s plight had taken Olivia aback. She sensed her husband did not see the girl for who she was but instead as a clinical problem to be dealt with.

The door to the solarium opened, and she turned toward it to see the shadow of her husband. “I can hear your thoughts all the way back at the house,” he said drowsily.

She moved over on the sofa, making room for him, and when he stretched out beside her, she nestled close to him. “It’s the night. You know I don’t sleep well any longer.”

“Do the stars help?”

“Yes, they’re peaceful.”

He smelled of clean soap from the bath he always took when he came home from the hospital. His hand slid softly to her slightly rounded belly. “Are you pregnant?”

She looked up at him, remembering his face had been the first she had seen while trapped. “Yes.”

His face broke into a wide grin as he hugged her closely. “When?”

“Christmas, I would say.”

He buried his face in the loose curls of her hair. “God, I’m so happy.”

“Me too,” she said.

As much as she wanted to surrender to the joy of this moment, her mind kept returning to that woman she had seen in Lynchburg.

“I can’t get that woman’s face out of my mind.”

“What woman?” He seemed genuinely confused.

“The day I brought you lunch at the hospital.”

“Ah, yes. What about her?”

“She was so upset.”

“Many of the women we treat are easily upset. Many aren’t right in the mind, and they need our help. It’s unsettling. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I was buried alive for nine hours, but it paled to her terror.”

He was silent for a moment. “I’ve no doubt her life is never going to be easy.”

“What did you do for her?” Olivia asked.

“I did what was right for her. I saw to it that her suffering wouldn’t be passed on to the next generation.”

She felt his steady heartbeat under her fingertips. “What does that mean?”

“The girl’s mother is as troubled as she is. It’s hereditary. The father did not want his daughter to have children that were bound to suffer.”

“What did you do?”

“A very quick and easy procedure that ensures she won’t have children. She’ll live a happy life that will be as normal as she can manage, but there won’t be children.”

“How do you know they would suffer?”

“Her father was certain that she should have no children.”

“Why was he so certain?”

“He knows his child.”

“Are there others like her?”

“Too many sometimes.” Edward pulled Olivia closer to him and tightened his hold around her slim waist. “I don’t want you to worry about her or that place. Focus on the baby and how you can make the plants in here grow. I was down here earlier, and I’m impressed at their beauty.”

Some of her worries drifted away at the sound of his soothing voice.