Chapter 3

When Elsie returned from nursing the baby, Charles was already creating a makeshift bed for himself out of several layers of blankets that she had stored in the closet. She watched him for a moment, hating the foolish regret that nibbled at her, the quiet desire to have her him beside her again in her own bed rather than all the way across the room... Surely she hadn't really meant this as such an invitation as that. Though it was true that he was still her husband, there were too many boundaries between them now, ones which she herself had created and dared not cross, at least not yet.

"If you would like to sleep in my bed," Elsie offered. "I can sleep there on the floor."

Charles chuckled at her kind innocence.

"A lady never sleeps on the floor."

"Good, because I'm no lady," Elsie spoke with mock indignation.

"You've always been a lady to me," Charles replied softly.

She felt silly as her cheeks flushed pink. He always had a way of saying just the thing to get under her skin - good or bad, though the good almost always outweighed the bad.

Charles leaned down and kissed the baby's forehead as he absentmindedly stroked his soft, thin hair.

"May I put him to bed?" he asked.

Elsie nodded and carefully placed little Charles into his father's arms. The same heartbreaking tenderness gripped her now as it did the first time she witnessed him holding their child. Charles kissed the boy again before laying him down and tucking him into the soft blankets. He down smiled to the sleepy baby, who made quiet, happy gurgling noises at him.

"I wish I hadn't missed so much already," Charles said, his voice hushed and heavy with emotion as he still looked down at the boy.

Elsie swallowed hard as bitter memories flashed back to her. She blinked hard to fight the threatening tears as she strived to keep a straight face as Charles turned to her.

"He's wonderful," he marveled once more, apparently oblivious to Elsie's triggered distress.

"He is," she spoke in a small, strained voice. She added a smile so that he would not be concerned. If he couldn't see her pain, then she certainly didn't want to share it with him. "Goodnight, Charles."

Charles was stirred from his sleep by a soft noise in the dim room. For a moment, he wasn't certain whether there had been a noise at all or if he had simply dreamed it. Silence rang in his ears as he listened carefully for the sound. His weary eyes blinked languidly as they adjusted to the darkness. He sat up as soon as he heard the noise again, this time clearer and with no uncertainty as to what it could be. Charles knew that sound; it was one that hurt him, frightened him, and shook him to the core. In a sleepy, yet suddenly very alert, daze, he rose unsteadily to his feet. Another sharp gasp, a whimper, and a sniff cut him like a freshly sharpened blade.

"Elsie," he whispered, nearing the bed where she lay curled in a tight ball, as if she were trying to take up as little space as possible. "Please don't cry."

She sniffed again, and her body shuddered as she released another sob. He leaned down beside her, battling the urge to scoop her into his arms.

"I'm so sorry," he said, daring to reach out and touch her trembling shoulder.

To his surprise, Elsie grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly. She pulled him into her as he slipped his arms around her shaking body. His heart pounded as he lay down on the bed and allowed her to cradle herself against him. Charles shivered as her soft breaths teased the tender skin of his bare neck, and he knew that all hope for a full night's sleep was suddenly thrown away...

To be continued