A Greater Love (19 page)

He stepped over the wooden fence and knelt on the cold dirt and straw, gathering Sara’s scarf into his hands. He held the wet wool to his face, uncaring of the stares of the few people in the park. Sara’s scent was still in the material. Where were they now? Shivering in some stairwell? Or perhaps dead?

“It wasn’t your problem,” he muttered accusingly. “You just couldn’t stop your self-righteousness in order to help a child.”

Daniel wept. The light shining onto the manger called his attention to the statue of Baby Jesus. “You came into the world, knowing You would die,” he whispered, “so that the others could have a chance. It didn’t matter that the world was wicked, or that they would murder You, it only mattered that You tried—that You loved.”

Realization stuck Daniel as hard as any blow. He hadn’t wanted to try! He hadn’t wanted to risk anything—especially not his love.

“I need to learn to love as You did. But how?” There was no answer.

He tucked Sara’s scarf into his coat near his heart.
Is she all right? Where are they now?
If only he knew!

“It is my problem,” he said aloud. “It is! I am my brother’s keeper, I know that now. Just let them be all right. Please, God. Please! I’ll do anything!”

Daniel walked slowly back to his apartment, eyes staring after every unaccompanied child he saw. After the twenty-minute walk, he ran up the twelve flights of stairs, hoping to find the little girl who’d won his heart and the boy who in some odd way was a mirror of himself. But except for the cold marble, the stairwell was empty.

He called the police station, but they also hadn’t found the children. Daniel slumped on the couch, staring at the blank television set, silently berating himself and the choices he’d made.

“I should have helped them,” he told himself. Exhaustion overwhelmed his body, and for the first time since the children’s disappearance, he slept.

* * * * *

 Wednesday dragged by with no more news. Each time Daniel saw himself in the mirror, he blamed the haggard face.
If they die, it’ll be your fault. Just as it was when Manuel died.
He’d never been able to say the words aloud, but they filled his every waking moment. Again, he searched the cold, wet streets for the children—with no success. Cristina called Daniel from her apartment, but she hadn’t found them, either.

Thursday morning, a loud, insistent buzzing filled the apartment, jolting Daniel from his restless slumber. His feet seemed wooden, and he tripped over them in his hurry to reach the intercom in the entryway. “Who is it?” he asked, his voice gruff.

“Cristina.”

His heart dived. At one time, he would have given anything to hear her voice, but now? His guilt ran too deep.

“I’m coming up,” she said. “I wanted to make sure you were here before I did. I called your office, and they said you didn’t come in again.” There was an odd note in her voice, one Daniel had never heard in all their six years of marriage. He opened the apartment door and watched the elevator light rise. Finally, the single door opened to reveal Cristina carrying a blanket-wrapped Sara in her arms. Sleeping, she looked like a small angel with bright rosy cheeks.

“You found them!” Daniel stepped forward and took Sara’s weight from Cristina’s arms. His wife appeared beaten and tired, not at all as he would expect her to look after finding the children.

Cristina shook her head wearily, and a sheen of tears glimmered in her eyes. “She found me. When I went to open the agency this morning, she was sitting in the doorway, burning with fever. She spoke to me, but was rather incoherent, so I took her to the doctor. He says she’s suffering from exposure, but that she’ll recover. He gave her some medication.”

Daniel stalked into the apartment, heading for the guest bedroom where he laid Sara on the bed, gently securing the blanket around her.

“Lucky was with her. I left him in the car. I was afraid he’d run away while I carried Sara in. He was sure hungry, though. I had a sandwich in the car and he ate every drop.”

“And Miguel?” There was something Cristina was not saying.

“He wasn’t there. I looked up and down the street, but I couldn’t see him. And Sara was so sick, I thought it important to get her to the doctor right away.” Her voice wavered. “I don’t think Miguel would abandon her, if he could help it. Do you suppose he’s all right?”

Daniel pulled her to him and was relieved when she didn’t resist. “We’ll find him,” he whispered in her hair. “We have to. And he didn’t abandon her. He brought her to you. Maybe because she was sick.” He held her tightly for a moment longer, feeling the rightness of their embrace. “Thank you for coming. For bringing her here.”

She drew away and gazed up at him, thick lashes partly veiling her expression. “I came because Sara wanted to see you. She called your name. I—I …” Her voice trailed away.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, voice pleading. “My selfishness nearly cost Sara her life. And who knows where Miguel is now? I’ve looked everywhere; the police are still looking. Cristina, I was wrong. I won’t blame you if you don’t forgive me.”

A sudden hope flamed in her eyes. “It’s not really your fault.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Does that mean … ?” She let the question dangle.

Daniel remembered the stark emptiness he had felt the past four days since the children had run away. “I don’t know, but I want to help them.”

“They need a family.”

He thought long and hard before replying. “I think we would be good parents,” he said, “if you’ll have me back. I can’t say that I’m not scared stiff about taking on two children, but I think it’s worth the risk. At least I’m willing to try. Miguel and Sara have shown me that I can make a difference.” He gazed down at the sleeping child.

He wished he could explain to Cristina the change that had occurred inside when he had discovered Sara’s scarf covering the Baby Jesus, but he couldn’t find the words. She’d been right, though, a child meant hope, and as long as there was hope, the world went on.

Cristina stared at him. “I’ve waited a long time to hear you say that, or something like it.”

“Does that mean you’ll come back to stay?” He ached to hold her, but resisted, not wanting to drive her away.

She hesitated. “I want to, but first there’s something I have to tell you. I don’t know if you’ll still want me.”

“It’ll make no difference in the way I feel about you. Go ahead, tell me.”

“Not now. We have to concentrate on finding Miguel.”

Daniel frowned. What was she hiding? He wanted to press her, but the expression in her eyes told him she wouldn’t say anything further—at least not today. He moved closer, succumbing to his need to touch her.

She returned his embrace. “I love you so much, Daniel,” she whispered. He buried his face in her hair and held her until he had the strength to face the world again.

On the bed, Sara tossed in her sleep, her eyelids fluttering. A thick gold chain around her neck caught the light. Daniel’s eyes fastened on the ship charm and memories flooded through him.

“Did you give her that?” he asked thickly, pulling away from Cristina. He reached for the ship, turning it over in his hands. What he found on the back verified his suspicion.

Cristina settled on the bed beside him. “She was wearing it when I found her. The two small charms are Zodiac signs, perhaps Miguel’s and Sara’s.” She paused. “Daniel, what’s wrong? Your face is white. What is it?”

“I’ve seen this ship before.” He arose and strode from the room. In a minute he returned, clutching something in his hand. He sat on the bed and opened his fist to reveal another gold ship.

“It’s exactly the same!” Cristina said.

“I bought it during my time on the commercial fishing boat. All my friends did too, with the intent to give them to our girlfriends. It was after Manuel had met Ana Paula and we were all in love with the idea of love. I wasn’t in a serious relationship at the time, so I kept my charm. I put it away in a box of odds and ends and after Manuel died, I didn’t feel …” He let his voice trail away. “See, Sara’s charm has the name of the boat engraved on the back:
The Santa Maria.
Just like mine.”

Cristina squinted at the small letters. “I wonder how the children got it?”

“Their father must have been one of my friends. There were only five of us.”

“They could have found it. Or stolen it even.”

“No, I don’t believe that. You see how carefully they’ve guarded it? This charm and the necklace must have meant something special to Miguel and Sara. Or why would they still have it? They could have sold it for food or something. This chain alone is worth a great deal. Look how long it is. They’ve doubled it and it’s still long. I’ll bet this is what Miguel was hiding in the pocket of my T-shirt that first night. Remember how he had something pinned inside? It looked heavy enough to be the necklace.”

“But their father being one of your friends—that’s some coincidence.”

“Or the hand of God.”

Cristina gazed at him, her eyebrows raised in surprise. “If they are related to one of the men on your boat, it would go a long way to finding where they’re from.”

“Maybe she has something else,” Daniel said. “If Miguel was hiding something, maybe Sara was, too.”

“She doesn’t have any pockets in her new dress.”

“Where’s her coat? Wasn’t she wearing it?”

“In the car. Bring Lucky up, too. I forgot all about him, the poor thing.”

Daniel practically flew out the door and down the stairs. Lucky barked enthusiastically as he approached the car. He opened the door and petted the puppy while he reached for Sara’s coat. Inside the pocket, he found an identity card. He groaned. “Why didn’t I see it sooner? Their hair. Sara’s eyes.”

Inside their apartment, Cristina also recognized the woman in the picture, not from her face but from her name. “Ana Paula, Manuel’s wife!”

Daniel groaned again, releasing a hint of the increasing pain he felt in his heart. “I should have known. They look like her. They have Manuel’s intelligence. For the love of heaven, they even have the same last name!”

“Half of my friends are named Silva,” Cristina said. “We couldn’t have known because of that.”

Daniel sat on the bed and smoothed the blonde stripes in Sara’s hair. “Ana Paula would never have left her children. She had many little brothers and sisters and it hurt her to leave them when she married Manuel. She wanted a child, and so did Manuel. You should have seen his face when he told me she was expecting.”

“Then she’s dead, and the children are all alone.”

Daniel felt panic race through his heart. Now that he knew the children were Manuel’s, how could he ever hope to be a father to them? He owed them more than he could ever repay. But what would they think of him when they knew his deepest shame?

“The important thing is to find Miguel,” he spoke rapidly to hide his inner turmoil. “I should go out looking again.”

Sara stirred “Daniel?”

“I’m here,” he said, holding her hand.

“Are ya gonna take me to the orphanage now?”

“No. We’re going to try to find your family. Until then, you can stay here.”

Sara strained to sit up. “Whoa! Take it easy,” Cristina cautioned.

“I don’t wanna leave here—ever.” She scanned the room anxiously. “Where’s Miguel?”

“We haven’t found him yet. Do you know where he is?”

She shook her head. Then her hand flew to the necklace on her chest. “Oh, no! But he said he wasn’t gonna leave me ever!”

Daniel’s eyes met Cristina’s, reading the same alarm he felt. “What do you mean?”

Sara’s eyes dwarfed her thin face and her mouth drooped in a frown. “He gave me this once before, when the boys came to our house. They was causin’ trouble and I was scared I was never gonna see him again. He told me to run away to be safe. When he come to meet me in the woods, his eye was punched and when we was takin’ a bath, I saw he was all black and blue here.” She motioned to her ribs. Now that Sara mentioned it, Daniel remembered how the boy had favored his right side and had occasionally grimaced with ill-concealed pain.

Sara’s lips trembled. “What if this time he can’t come back?”

“Where was Miguel when you last saw him?” Cristina asked.

“I don’t know. I remember the church by the park, though. They was singin’.”

“Tell me exactly what you remember,” Daniel said. “I want you to tell me from the beginning. Everything. Including about your mother.” He handed Sara the identity card.

“Miguel never let me keep that before.”

Daniel nodded gravely. “This is very serious, Sara. We have to find Miguel.”

“He told me not to say nothin’. He said you was gonna take us to the orphanage and we’d never see each other again.” Silent tears fell on her pale cheeks. “Please don’t do that. He’s all I got left.”

Daniel pulled Sara onto his lap. “I’m not going to let you be separated. I know how much you love each other. I was a friend of your father’s, you know.”

Her face twisted to see his. “You was?”

“We sailed together on a fishing boat. See? I have a ship just like yours. He must have given it to your mother. I knew her, too. She could sing as pretty as you do.”

A smile played on Sara’s lip as she fingered the charm. “It’s just like Mamãe’s.”

“She’s dead, isn’t she?”

Sara nodded. “I don’t remember her. Miguel says she died.”

“And then?”

“Then Octávia brought us to Campo Grande.”

Daniel looked at Cristina. “Manuel had an older sister named Octávia.”

Slowly, the whole story came out. Even if his heart hadn’t already been softened, Sara’s description of their life would have caved Daniel’s former resolve to be indifferent. He became infused with the desire to help, to give something of himself, something that would make a difference. Even if in the end Miguel rejected him, as he must when he found out the truth about his father’s death.

“You rest for a little while, dear,” Daniel told Sara. “We’re going to leave you for a minute to make some plans to help your brother, but Cristina will be right back.”

Once they were in the entryway, Daniel met Cristina’s eyes. “Miguel gave her the card too. I don’t think he was planning on coming back.”