Nina’s question—would you ever adopt older kids?—played over and over inside Emmy’s head. She knew what the young girl was really asking and that moment when Nina had hugged her and sobbed her heart out, Emmy had known the answer…even before the question was posed.

She was both eager and nervous for Oliver to come home. They needed to talk, and she was sure they would be on the same page, but what if he had doubts?

He won’t. You know he won’t.

Emmy tried to focus on dinner and not burn it has her mind continued to wander back to the children. She hadn’t had a chance to spend time with the boys, but just seeing them at the dining table when she’d first arrived…her heart broke for them all. She wished for a huge house with many rooms that would accommodate all the children, a place they could call home for as long as they wished to stay. She and Oliver had discussed adopting older children, but something had held them back. Had God deliberately caused them to delay until he could unite them with these children who needed extra-special love and care?

The hurt and anguish in their eyes had been nearly more than she could bear. But in the short time she was there with them, she’d watched them start to come out of their shells as hope began to seep tentatively across their frightened faces. They were scared, but they craved affection, someone to treat them with compassion and love.

Emmy’s vision blurred. She touched her face and found tears sliding down her cheeks. She didn’t want to imagine the horrors that had been inflicted on these sweet babies, rather imagined their future from here on out. A bright future filled with joy and happiness and love. She wanted her and Oliver to be a part of that future, for some of them, at least.

But how would they choose between them? They were all so in need of a loving family. And in each of their faces was something special, unique.

“Hey, beautiful.”

Emmy gasped and spun around, startled by Oliver’s sudden presence; she hadn’t heard him come in. She smacked his arm. “You scared me.”

“I was like a bull in a china shop coming into the house,” he chuckled. “How did you not hear me?”

Her mind had been elsewhere, with the kids.

Oliver frowned and touched her damp cheek. “Em, you were crying. What’s wrong?”

Emmy started to insist she was fine but fell apart instead. Oliver wrapped her in his strong arms and held her close. She managed to tell him about the kids and where they had been rescued from. She looked up at her husband and tears swam in his horrified eyes. “They need love, Olly,” she whispered brokenly. “So much love. They need…a place to call home. A place where they’re wanted and cherished.”

Oliver swallowed hard and brushed his hand tenderly against her cheek. “We have a home,” he whispered. “A home that seems very empty right now.”

Her chin trembling, Emmy hugged her big teddy bear with all her strength, quiet sobs shaking her voice. “I love you, Oliver. I love you so much.”

 

•♦•

 

A short while back, the single full-sized bed in what was now Noah and Noel’s bedroom had been replaced with two twin beds. When they crawled into their respective beds that night, Noel lay silently in the dark while Noah tried to get comfortable. About time he thought he was ready to go to sleep, he began to toss and turn.

He’d thought Noel had dropped right off to sleep since he was being so quiet—until his brother snickered.

“What’s so funny?” Noah mumbled as he punched his pillow a couple times and flopped his head into the softness.

“You.”

“Why me?”

“You’re so jazzed about Chris you can’t even lay still.” He snickered again.

“Shut up,” Noah muttered as a small smile crept across his lips; Noel was right. His mind refused to turn off as the scene from earlier played on a loop in his head.

“You thought he was going to kiss you, didn’t you?” Noel’s huge grin was evident in his voice.

Noah scowled. “No, I didn’t.” He had, but he wasn’t going to admit it out loud—it was embarrassing.

“Did, too,” Noel countered. “I saw that look on your face. You were about to pucker up.” He laughed.

“Uh! Shut it!” Noah yanked one of his pillows from under his head and hurled it at his brother, which made Noel laugh harder.

“It’s okay,” he choked on his laughter. “I thought he was, too.”

Noah abruptly went still. “You did?”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat and twisted onto his side, facing Noah. “Must’ve been disappointed when he didn’t, huh?”

Noah thought about it and smiled. “No. I mean, it would have been awesome if he had, but it’s okay. I kind of want our first real kiss to be in private. It will be more romantic that way.”

“So, you’ve finally accepted that you and Chris might actually have a chance?”

Sighing, Noah turned onto his back and looked at the dark ceiling. “I…I don’t know. Every time I think I’m just fooling myself, he does something that sparks hope again.” He laughed nervously. “I’m kind of scared to believe it, though.”

“Why?”

“Well, what if I let myself fall in love with him all the way and then he finds someone else before I’m eighteen…or even when I turn eighteen, he says he doesn’t have those feelings for me?” He swallowed. “I think I’d die.”

Noel chuckled quietly. “I don’t think you have to worry about death.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Just that I think Chris already has some of those feelings for you, but maybe doesn’t know it yet. He was really scared about what happened at the park.”

“Not just scared for me,” Noah said. “He hugged you, too.”

“Not like he did you,” Noel pointed out. “I mean, I know he was scared for me, too. But you were the one he kept a hold of and kissed a couple times.”

“Just on the forehead and cheek,” Noah murmured as his heart went a little crazy at the remembrance.

“Just on the forehead and cheek,” Noel snickered. “You were on cloud nine. And he didn’t give me any kisses. He was totally showing you special attention. That’s a good sign.”

It was, wasn’t it? Noah smiled.

“You guys are so getting married someday,” Noel predicted.

Noah’s smile grew and encompassed his entire face. “Thanks, Noel.”

“For what?”

“You always make me feel better.”

“I’m glad.” He let out an exaggerated yawn. “Now that your feelings are all tucked in, can we go to sleep?”

Noah rolled his eyes and grinned. “Yes.”

A muffled snicker came from the other bunk.

 

•♦•

 

Following dinner, Adrian talked to Jules about David spending the night in his room along with the other kids. The little boy thought it was “cool” that one of the older boys wanted to sleep in his room, too. David interacted well with the smaller children and promised to tell them some bedtime stories. He had a few stories he used to tell them at night to try and distract them from their physical and psychological trauma. Jacob thought that David might become a writer, now that he was free from abuse and had a brighter future.

A tentative nervousness settled over Jacob and Eric once they were alone in their room. Eric perched on the edge of the bed, his hands wringing anxiously in his lap, while Jacob moved around the room, absently inspecting the furniture. Jacob didn’t know why he was so nervous all of the sudden.

“Are you tired?” Eric asked quietly.

“Not really,” Jacob mumbled, though he was sure if he laid down, he would probably drop off to sleep before very long. This would be the first night for as long as he could remember that he would sleep peacefully. He looked forward to it. But it was also his and Eric’s first night alone together. This was special…even if they didn’t “do” anything.

“We should probably go to bed, though.” Eric glanced at him. “I mean, we’re supposed to be going to bed. Adrian said we needed a lot of restful sleep.”

Jacob nodded. “Yeah.”

Eric hesitated then stood up and walked over to the bags of clothes and dug out a pair of flannel pajama pants and a matching pajama shirt. He took the items back to the bed, hesitated again, then began removing his clothes.

From across the room, Jacob watched with nervous excitement as if this were the first time he’d seen Eric without clothes. In a way, it was the first time; the first time that he saw him this way when he wasn’t being abused.

Eric’s shirt came off and Jacob’s heart knotted in anguish not only at the sight of his malnourished body…but the prominent bruises left behind by his abusers. As Eric slowly removed his pants, Jacob’s eyes followed the pattern of bruises that gathered heavily around his waist, hips, and rear. Jacob knew from his own experiences that the men liked to clutch and claw and get brutally rough. He’d been forced to watch Eric acquire some of the bruises that now marred his body. Eric had seen the same happen to Jacob, too.

His eyes growing damp, Jacob walked over to the younger boy. Eric stood wearing only a pair of the new underwear and started to reach for the pajama pants then paused when Jacob approached. “I look awful, don’t I?” he whispered unsteadily.

Jacob shook his head and cupped Eric’s face. “I think you’re beautiful.” He kissed him softly. “Bruises heal, and you’ll gain weight. But even right now, as is…you’re still the most beautiful boy in the world to me.”

Eric began to shake as his eyes filled. “Is it really over, Jacob? This…this isn’t just a dream?”

“It’s really over,” Jacob whispered and wrapped him in his arms. “Everything before today…” he pressed his lips to his hair. “It’s all just a bad a dream now, nothing more.”

Eric clung to him. “What about the other kids at the orphanage?” He trembled. “It’s still real for them.”

“The cowboy and the others,” Jacob murmured. “They’ll do something. They’ll save them, too.”

“I hope so,” Eric said thickly. “I’m so scared for them now.”

Jacob stepped back. “It’ll be okay.”

Swallowing thickly, Eric tentatively met Jacob’s eyes. “Do you think…” he hesitated. “Do you think they’ll kill them, too? The ones who run the orphanage?”

“I don’t know,” Jacob admitted quietly. “Maybe.” He blinked as nightmare memories surfaced from his time in the orphanage. “I don’t care if they do.”

Eric lowered his eyes. “I wanted to kill Barron,” he whispered with a chilled edge to his words. Tears rolled down his face. “I…I hated him so much.”

Barron. One of the staff. Twenty-five and thick-bodied. He had taken a special liking to Jacob and used him regularly, often beating him before raping him because the adrenaline rush jacked the guy up or something. Barron knew that Eric cared about Jacob and found it amusing to mock and taunt him with all the things he did to Jacob, using the vilest, disgusting descriptions he could think of. He took added pleasure in tormenting Eric by insisting that Jacob actually liked it, but just wouldn’t admit it to Eric. Of course, Eric knew that wasn’t true, but it still hurt him to have such things thrust at him on a daily basis.

“Do you think he’s still there?” Eric asked. “Do you think the cowboy will get him?”

Jacob murmured, “If he’s still there…the cowboy will get him.”

“Tell him.”

“What?” Jacob frowned.

Eric sniffed and wiped his eyes. “Tell the cowboy who he is, what he looks like. Tell him to not let him get away.” He swallowed thickly. “Please, Jacob.”

Nodding slowly, Jacob whispered, “I will. If I get the chance.”

Eric relaxed a little and pulled on his pajamas. Jacob found a pair of his own and changed, then crawled into bed next to Eric.

Sighing contentedly, Eric gazed at the ceiling, a small smile on his face as he drew the warm comforter to his chin. “This feels like heaven.” He turned his head and looked at Jacob. “Angels and all.”

Jacob smiled and kissed him. “Angels, indeed.” He stroked Eric’s clean, soft hair that smelled wonderfully of shampoo. He turned onto his side and propped his head in his hand as he gazed down at Eric. “Will you marry me, Eric?”

Eric blinked. “Huh?”

Laughing softly, Jacob said, “Not right now. But…someday? Do you think you might want to?”

“I already want to,” he whispered. “I can’t imagine life without you.”

Jacob sank lower against the bed and kissed Eric again, letting it deepen this time as the other boy curled his arms around Jacob’s neck. The sudden desire that warmed Jacob’s body and stirred his arousal scared him a little. Their only experience with “sex” had been vicious and brutal. He wanted to be with Eric but was afraid it would feel dirty and wrong and even…mean.

“Jacob…?” Eric shuddered when Jacob withdrew. “Are…are you okay?”

Tears stung Jacob’s eyes and he was suddenly so angry at all the men who had hurt them, who had taught them that sex was terrifying and painful and ugly. Jacob turned away and sat up. He buried his face in his hands, sobs shaking him.

“Jacob?” Eric sat forward. “What’s wrong?” He wrapped his arms around Jacob and hugged him tight, his head pressed against his back. “Please don’t cry,” Eric whispered, now in tears himself. “Everything’s okay.”

Jacob hung his head lower and sobbed harder.

“Please, Jacob…don’t.” Eric kissed his shoulder. “Why’re you crying?”

“Because…because I want to…to be with you.” He choked on his sobs. “And it makes me feel…like them.”

Eric fell silent as he held onto Jacob. He pressed his forehead to the nape his neck. “Why do you want to be with me?”

Jacob trembled. “Because I love you, Eric,” he cried softly. “I love you so much.”

Eric hugged him closer. “Those men…they didn’t do those things to us because they loved us. They did it because they were sick and cruel and perverted. Wanting to be with me because you love me doesn’t mean you’re like them. You’re nothing like them. You’re perfect and wonderful and so gentle.”

Turning slowly, Jacob looked at him through a wall of tears.

Eric touched his face and whispered, “I think it would feel nice to be with someone who loved me.” He slowly laid down and drew Jacob with him. “Someone I loved, too.”

Jacob sank down next to him and wrapped him deep in his arms as he looked into his eyes. “I think it would feel good, too,” he said softly, his throat tight. He buried his face in Eric’s neck and held the other boy close against him. “But for tonight, can you just hold me? I’m not ready for the other just yet.”

“I don’t mind holding you,” Eric whispered. “I love to hold you.”

Jacob closed his eyes, warm tears seeping onto Eric’s skin. “I want to give you everything in this world you could ever want, Eric.”

“We escaped the nightmare…and we still have each other,” Eric murmured. “That’s everything I prayed for. And God answered.” Eric pressed closer to him. “Stay with me always, and I’ll have everything I could ever want.”

Lying in the warmth and security of Eric’s arms, their future stretched out before them, Jacob thought maybe there was a God after all…and maybe he did care.

 

•♦•

 

The door opened, and quiet footsteps crossed the porch behind Cochise. He didn’t turn around. He knew each of the occupants of the house by the sound of their footsteps. It was John who had come out of the house.

“What’re you doing out here?” John came over and sat down on the step next to him. “After all that…exertion…I thought you’d be passed out with Kane.” He smiled.

“Suppose I should be,” Cochise mumbled. He stared across the yard at nothing, trying to crush the disturbing thoughts that battled for dominance inside his head.

“You know,” John said quietly. “It’s okay to be upset about what happened with the boys. It just shows how much you care about them. And everyone knows you do care about them, a lot.”

Cochise leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees. He rubbed his hand slowly back and forth across his mouth and remained silent.

“You don’t always have to be the badass gangster all the time.”

Cochise frowned and looked at the young man.

John smiled. “You didn’t really think I didn’t know, did you? I’m not blind or deaf. It didn’t take me long to figure it out.”

Cochise hadn’t wanted him to know, but he guessed it was inevitable that he found out. The kid was practically immersed in the gangster world—at the very least, surrounded by gangsters much of the time.

Or maybe he picked up on things subconsciously. As Gianni Venetti, he’d been the son of a gangster. Maybe not everything from his forgotten life…was completely forgotten. Way down deep. Cochise looked at him a moment. The porchlight was off and there was only minimal moonlight, casting the boy’s face in shadows. Sometimes it was hard for Cochise to look directly at him in full light. The bullet scar low on his forehead was a “magnetic” beacon that pulled the Egyptian’s stare right to it. A constant reminder of who he really was…deep down inside…and what he was truly capable of.

He looked away, out across the dark yard again. “It’s what I’m most comfortable with,” he murmured in reply to John’s former comment.

“I see you with Kane, and with all of us,” John said. “You might think you’re not adapting well to the whole domestic lifestyle, but you’re wrong. You are a family man, and a damn good one.”

Your father was a damn good family man—and I killed him. Because that’s what I do. That’s what I am.

John leaned forward next to him and shifted his stare to the yard as well. “How come you can’t to me the way you do with Donald?”

Tension stiffened Cochise’s muscles. “How do I talk to Donald?”

“I don’t know,” John murmured. “You just seem more relaxed with him. You’re always so tense around me. Or uncomfortable. Not sure which. Sometimes it feels like…” John's voice caught with sudden emotion and he went silent.

Cochise frowned. “Like what?”

“Like you’d rather not talk to me at all.”

Cochise closed his eyes for a moment then opened them. “That’s isn’t true.”

John asked quietly, “Do you blame me for Donald wanting to leave?”

“No.”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Because everything has been different between us since we danced at the reception,” John said. “I think he’s leaving because he thinks I’m uncomfortable around him now.”

Cochise shifted. “Are you?”

John paused before answering. “I…I don’t know. Maybe. A little. But not enough to want him to leave.”

“Why are you uncomfortable?”

Another pause. “I don’t know,” John whispered. “I know I shouldn’t be. It was just a dance. But…I am, and I don’t know why.”

Cochise knew why.