He didn't know how long he had lain there, watching her. He didn't think he could get enough of her pleasant scent. Her hair was soft and silky, shining in the sunlight that invaded the room from the windows. He loved the way it brushed against his skin when he turned his head ever so slightly. Her chest moved in a calm rhythm, while the rest of her lay completely still.

He couldn't turn his eyes from her. She looked twenty years younger in the sunlight. And by God, she was beautiful! The curve of her nose, the high cheekbones, the beautiful lips and those warm brown eyes—her face was a model of perfection. She was so calm and quiet now, like a sleeping angel. Jude had a peaceful expression on her face, and Kit couldn't deny the pride he felt for easing her worry from last night.

Her eyes had always reminded Kit of a puppy's, whether she was happy or sad, friendly or angry, mistrustful or loyal. When he'd found her at Briarcliff, Kit couldn't believe how empty those wonderful eyes had become. Little by little he'd watched as the life returned to them, and along with it happiness and trust. And it was so much more than he had bargained for when he'd decided to forgive her, and to save her.

When he'd noticed her sitting all alone in the overcrowded common room, something inside him had broken—some old feud had been sorted out. Kit had seen she was suffering. As much as he'd wished for it when he himself had been at Briarcliff, Kit couldn't find it in himself to feel any contentment at seeing Jude like this. He'd done the only human thing possible. He'd felt a small pride at his little victories when Jude had started to look at him—really see him—, when she'd started to understand him and finally communicate. Kit didn't see himself as the hero. He was a friend.

For all the time he'd known Sister Jude, only as a madwoman had he started to see her as a woman and a fellow human being. He'd seen her ups and downs by now. He'd seen her fall off a chair with laughter. He'd seen her cry her heart out for something she refused to share with him. And he'd seen her fall asleep in his arms like an innocent child.

The day he'd first seen her there in the common room, sickly and lost, Kit had made a promise to himself to care for her. He did want to forgive. He longed for some piece of mind and to leave the past behind. But that wasn't all. When he'd been at Briarcliff, he'd had Grace and Lana. Jude had no one. Kit knew all too well how that felt. And so he promised to himself that he would be there for her. The past was in the past.

From the way her body tensed slightly, Kit realized Jude had woken up. The both of them lay completely still for a while, Kit relishing the feeling of their closeness and wondering what must be going on inside Jude's head. He wouldn't have blamed her if she'd darted from the bed the moment she'd gathered up the energy to do that. After all, he had invaded her personal space quite uninvited and during her moment of weakness. But he wished she wouldn't go.

Ever so slowly and hesitantly, Jude raised her head to look up at the man who was holding her in his arms. Her puppy eyes locked with his. And to his enormous surprise and delight, Kit realized she looked happy, even thankful.

"Good morning," he said quietly. And almost unconsciously his hand moved against her back, holding her against him. He could see Jude was not about to protest, although she had every right to.

"Morning," she breathed in reply. Kit thought he'd never seen a more beautiful smile than the one Jude was wearing this morning—happy, peaceful and trusting. She didn't seem a bit troubled by their familiar position. In fact, she was peace itself.

Both Alma and Grace had always felt the need to woo him when they'd been together. But Jude just lay there, content with their closeness and the intimacy of the scene without pushing further. And Kit felt whole. Caring for Jude and bringing her this peace of mind and safeness of the soul felt a thousand times better than being her lover.

"Did you sleep well?" Kit asked, gently pushing a lock of hair out of Jude's face. And unlike any lover Kit had ever known, she didn't move. She didn't lean into his touch for more or encourage him to explore her further. She didn't want this delicate peace between them to break. And neither did Kit. Theirs was a perfect balance of care and need for caring, hurt and comfort, of fragility and protection.

Jude replied with an affirmative sound, her eyes still locked with his. "Like a child," she said, her voice small and warm. With a slight frown she added, "I must have behaved really badly last night." A flicker of worry and shame had appeared in her nut brown eyes. Kit was quick to soothe her concern.

"No-no, it's alright," he told her kindly, carefully tracing a finger over her cheekbone. "You were just a little confused, that's all." Her skin felt like the softest of silks. At Kit's words the worry left her eyes, and they glimmered with trust and delight as Kit gently caressed her cheek. They could have stayed like this forever.

"Daddy!"

But Kit's other angel was calling for him. His eyes flicked to the door and back to Jude. He didn't want to get out of bed and leave her, not now that they were both so happy. But at the same time there was nothing in the world that was more important to him than his children. Julia just wanted him to tell her good morning and maybe partake in a brief pillow-fight with her brother. It didn't matter what it was that she needed her daddy for, Kit knew he had to be there.

Fortunately, Jude was a woman. Kit knew she herself had been deprived of motherhood, but she understood the connection between Kit and his offspring. She'd once told him that all she'd ever wanted was a family of her own. This was as close as she was ever going to get to that dream. Julia and Thomas called her their Nana, and they loved her. The four of them were a happy family.

Jude understood that Kit needed to go to his daughter. She smiled and calmly moved away from him just a little, finally resting her head on the pillow she hadn't touched since Kit had joined her in the bed. She looked up at the young man with a warm smile and without even the slightest bit of disappointment at him leaving her side.

Kit found this extraordinary. He'd never—not even with his own mother—shared a relationship where neither part was in the least clingy. Both Alma and Grace had always tried to hold him back when he'd tried to get out of bed. They'd tried so hard to keep him to themselves and to keep the love between them alive. Jude was different. There was a complete peace between them, an unspoken love that did not need to be nurtured to stay alive.

"I need to go," Kit said quietly, although he knew Jude had already come to that conclusion. She watched him silently as he smiled down at her, sat up and stood from the bed. He turned back for a moment to adjust the bedclothes, and his eyes were sparkling happily. Jude pulled the covers up to her chin.

Kit returned to Jude's room not ten minutes later. Julia and Thomas were getting dressed, Kit had made tea in the kitchen and promised the children they'd go out for a picnic in the afternoon. The children had each given their daddy a kiss for it and promised to show their Nana where the most beautiful flowers grew in the woods.

For a fleeting moment the young father stood in Jude's doorway, watching her small form shiver under her thick blanket. She had almost disappeared under the covers, leaving out only her slightly reddened face. On second thought, leaving Jude alone might have not been one of Kit's brightest ideas.

Crossing the room with three quick strides, Kit approached the bed, bending down over Jude and placing a hand on her forehead. Jude had opened her eyes moments before and was now looking up at him with a feverish fright in her lovely brown eyes.

"You're burning up, Jude," Kit said, removing his hand from Jude's overly warm face. A hand shot out from under the covers and caught his. Kit looked from the hand that had startled him to its owner's face worriedly. When she spoke, her voice was small and shaky.

"I'm cold."

At that moment Kit wanted nothing more than to hug Jude tight and take away all her discomfort and fear. "I think you have a temperature," he said, placing Jude's hand back under the covers. She was shaking violently and she frowned in discomfort. It had been quite long since Kit had been ill last, but he knew well enough how bad it felt.

For a brief moment an amused glint appeared in Jude's eyes. "You mean a fever," she said quietly. "Everybody's got a temperature. Unless, of course, they're dead." And she and Kit wore matching smiles for a moment.

Thirteen hours and two dozen mugs of tea later Kit settled down in a chair right next to Jude's bedside, placing his book on her night-stand. He'd been reading to Jude and the children, until the latter two had had to go to bed. Julia and Thomas had kissed both Kit and Jude goodnight and—like the good children that they were—gone to bed with no argument whatsoever. They'd been a bit disappointed that their picnic had been cancelled, but they'd kept busy all day by entertaining their Nana. They had brought her flowers like when she'd first been out of Briarcliff. Only this time they'd put them in a vase rather than Jude's hair.

When the children had been outside, Jude had complained about a headache, upon which Kit had brought her every medicine he could think of in the house to ease her pain. There was an arsenal of medicines on the night-stand next to the flowers and the book. Jude had dozed off many times during the day, only to shortly wake up from a nightmare and search for Kit's solace. Kit had been there and held her hand—or occasionally her—at these times, determined to ease her fright and worry.

Because Jude needed to be cared for, and she needed to be cherished and loved. Kit knew that now. Love was something Jude had been deprived of her whole life—first by her family, then by her unholy lifestyle and finally by her holy one. Kit wanted to give her all the love he could give—and more. He wanted to make her feel happy and wanted and loved. For the first time in his life Kit had the possibility to save a life with his love.

Jude was lying quietly under the warm covers, watching Kit with her eyelids half-closed, too tired to form neither a frown or a smile. A wet cloth had been placed over her burning hot forehead. She looked miserable, but as Kit had assumed, she was too scared or simply too uncomfortable to fall asleep. In the silence that had settled upon the room, Kit could hear her shallow breathing.

Calmly he leaned forward and picked up Jude's hand in both of his. It was a lot warmer than Kit would have liked, and yet another shiver ran through her body. He gently caressed the top of her hand, gathering the courage to break the peaceful silence.

"Jude," he said quietly, and although she didn't move a muscle, Kit knew Jude was paying close attention. He caught the glint of her eyes and held her gaze confidently. "I hope you know how much I love you."

After a short pause Kit saw her lips twist into a small smile, while two large tears stole down her pallid cheeks.

The End