The Sacred Shore by T. Davis Bunn Page B

died for you had it been necessary. Two. Many do not even have one. Two—do you hear me? Who can boast the same? And yes, I am still your mother. Your brothers are still your brothers, and so they will always be. Don’t you forget that. Don’t you ever forget that.”
    â€œAnd Antoinette?” asked Nicole, tipping her head slightly to one side, but her tone less challenging. “What about her?”
    Louise did not back down. “Why, she is equally blessed. She had Andrew and Catherine—and she has us.”
    â€œYou still love her?”
    Louise was shocked at the question. “I still breathe, do I not?”
    Nicole’s tiny nod was uncertain.
    â€œThere you are,” came a booming voice, and Henri pushed his way through the teeming crowd and drew near. His eyes sought out Louise, asking questions without words. Louise had questions of her own but was unable to voice them.
    â€œThey were able to get passage,” Henri announced. “It’s not a passenger ship, but the cargo seems to leave room for people to find space and to stir about. There are some empty berths, so they agreed to take the family. They sail at first light. Guy is busy even now stowing their things on board. The captain wants all those traveling with him to be settled on board before nightfall.”
    So it was happening. Louise turned her attention to a barking dog that someone had tied to the quay. Nearby a sheep bleated. Dust rolled toward them from the mules that brought in another load of bales. Louise heard and saw it all, yet perceived nothing. She brushed at the irritating flies buzzing about her face, then reached out for Henri’s hand. With his help she slowly came to her feet and stood mindlessly listening to the waves that lapped against the wooden dockside. Henri turned to Nicole. “You are ready, my daughter?”
    Nicole was honest in her reply. “I am, and I am not.”
    â€œYou will need to board within the half hour.” Henri seemed to be forcing out the words. “We will miss you while you are gone. It makes the parting harder, not knowing when or how you will make it back home.”
    Back home , Louise’s heart echoed. Once my beloved daughter makes this trip, where will her home be? But she did not voice her thoughts. Nothing was to be gained from asking the unanswerable.
    Nicole then spoke words that surprised them all. “If opportunity arises, what should I say to Antoinette?”
    Louise felt a lance of sunlight pierce the marrow of her bones. Yet again there was no answer. All the hope and pain of years seemed to bear down, squeezing more tears from her eyes.
    It was Henri who answered for them both. “What a question. Do you not know us at all?” Their daughter’s head bowed under the weight of Henri’s rasping words. “Speak your heart. You will be speaking our heart as well.”
    Louise struggled to find her own response within her heart. What should Nicole say for her? How to reduce the distance, to overcome the past?
    Henri seemed to read her thoughts, for he went on, “We have longed to see her year by year. We would be blessed to see her even now. But we cannot go back and change what was. Our tears are spent. Time and circumstance cannot be altered. She is their child. There is no way to undo the past.”
    Was Henri speaking to Nicole? Louise wondered. Did he think she was attempting to change the circumstances of their lives?
    Nicole spoke hesitantly now. “But if she wishes to know …”
    â€œThen may God give wisdom to you both.”
    â€œGod?” Nicole spoke the one word with a coldness that made the breath catch in Louise’s throat.
    â€œYou still question the existence of God?” Henri spoke as though wounded.
    For a moment Nicole did not answer. When she spoke, her words were direct, chilling. It was as though a dark, cold shroud fell over the three who stood together. “If