“Use the pacifier,” Gus called to her, but Amanda didn’t hear. Didn’t respond.

He was about to repeat his instructions in a louder voice when suddenly the voice of a lone, unaccompanied male singer filled the stage. Gus glanced toward the choir loft on the left side of the stage. The singer was standing-a bald man wearing a gray choir robe. The man grabbed the hands of the choir members on either side of him and pulled them along with him as he walked down the steps. The words he sang were familiar ones.

Jesus loves the little children

All the children of the world

As he sang, another voice joined in. A female voice. A heavy woman who had been sitting behind him stood and grabbed the hand of the woman on her left and followed the bald man and his companions, who were now singing along.

Red and yellow, black and white

They are precious in his sight

Jesus loves the little children of the world

When the young man reached Amanda’s side, he turned and gestured expansively to the other choir members, indicating that they, too, were to come forward and raise their voices with him. The choir members glanced at one another as though unsure of what they should do, then slowly began to come forward. Orderly, row by row, they came, drifting to the center of the stage, singing. Once the exodus was in progress, the bald man reached for the crying baby. It all seemed so rehearsed that Gus assumed it was an intended part of the proceedings.

Amanda hesitated then relinquished Buck to the man, who immediately began to jiggle him. Gus sighed with relief when the man put the pacifier in Buck’s mouth.

Dozens of the choir members were now gathered around Amanda, singing the familiar song remembered from their Sunday school days. With smiles they were singing. And the audience joined in. Each round of the song grew stronger and more triumphant.

The heavy woman had stepped behind the others, but from his vantage point, Gus had a clear view of her. With her back to him, he watched as she unzipped her choir robe and let it drop to the floor. She wasn’t heavy at all. Her body was slim and straight and young. She seemed to be unfastening some sort of harness.

It took Gus several heartbeats to understand who she was and what she was doing.

And suddenly there he was. Sonny’s baby. The child for which Gus had been searching. The child his sister wanted more than anything.

Jamie Long bent to kiss the baby and whisper to him. Gus could well imagine what she was saying. She was telling Sonny’s baby that she loved him, that everything was going to be all right. And Gus could tell by the language of her body and the look on her face that this young woman did indeed love her baby. Her love was bountiful.

Over and over audience and choir sang the familiar refrain. With faces radiating love and hope, they sang. Jesus did indeed love little children. And here was one of those children for them to love right along with Jesus-the child of their beloved Amanda, who promised them hope and glory, who told them of a God who loved them and cared about them and knew what was in their hearts. A God who was here with them now.

With her own baby reassured, Jamie Long tucked him close to her body and made her way through the cluster of singers until she was standing beside Amanda. And the singing grew louder. Here was another little child for them to love. An anonymous child.

Gus watched Amanda’s face as she looked first at Jamie and then at the baby in her arms.

Suddenly Amanda was trying to grab the baby away from Jamie, who was backing away and shaking her head.

“That’s my baby!” Amanda screamed, looking around frantically for someone to help her.

One by one, the choir members stopped singing. A wave of silence swept through the audience until every voice was stilled and the vast sanctuary became eerily silent as puzzled worshippers tried to discern the meaning of the drama they were witnessing onstage.

Amanda screamed again. “She has my baby.”

Gus took a step forward.

“Gus,” Amanda shrieked. “It’s her. It’s Jamie Long. She has Sonny’s baby.”

Gus took a tentative step forward as Amanda abruptly turned to Jamie. “Just let me hold him for a minute. Please let me hold him. I promise that I’ll give him back. In front of all these people, I promise. In front of God, I promise. I just want to hold my son’s baby. Please.”

Amanda’s arms were extended. “Just let me touch him and hold him,” she implored, her voice being carried electronically throughout the vast hall to the absolutely silent audience. So silent they were. Six thousand people and not a whisper. Not a cough. No shuffling of feet. Just immense and total silence.

“I won’t try to take him away from you,” Amanda pleaded. “I understand why you left. Really I do. But I need to be part of the child’s life. Please. In God’s name, please.” She looked in Gus’s direction. “Tell her, Gus,” she called to him. “Tell her that we won’t take the baby away from her. But we have a right to know him and to love him.” Then she turned back to Jamie. “Please, in God’s name, just let me hold him.”

The bald young man, still cradling Buck in his arms, was now standing beside Jamie. He shifted Buck to the crook of his left arm so that he could put his right one protectively around Jamie’s shoulders. She was looking questioningly into his face. Into Joe Brammer’s face.

Joe Brammer leaned forward and the two of them touched foreheads. Such an incredibly sweet gesture. One of complete trust. Complete love. Gus felt his heart give a painful lurch. What he wouldn’t have given to have had such love and trust in his own empty life.

Then Jamie looked at Amanda and nodded her head.

Suddenly Gus took off running toward the center of the stage. He reached the cluster of people standing there just as Jamie was placing her baby in Amanda’s arms.

Gus turned toward the front row and screamed, “No.” At the top of his voice, he screamed.

“No,” he screamed again as he threw his arms around the mother of Sonny’s child.

But the shot rang out anyway as per his own instructions to shoot the girl the instant that the baby was no longer in her arms.

Houston

A PLEASANT-LOOKING middle-aged woman answered the door balancing a sturdy baby boy on her hip. The baby, Bentley assumed. He would be about eight months old by now.

Wearing a very serious expression, the child regarded him with large blue eyes.

“You must be the lawyer from Austin,” the woman said.

“Yes, ma’am. Bentley Abernathy.”

“I’m Joe’s mother, Millie. And this is Billy, of course,” she said, kissing the baby on his cheek. “Joe and Jamie are out back. They’re expecting you,” she said over her shoulder as she led the way through the house. A nice comfortable house, he thought, as he walked through the family room with its reclining chairs, oversized leather sofa, and big-screen television set. No such amenities would be found in the restored Victorian mansion that eventually would be his home now that Brenda had almost returned the house to its former glory. He was thinking about adding a retreat for himself over the garage except that, while he wanted to separate himself as much as possible from Victorian furniture and its accompanying bric-a-brac, he did not want to retreat from his wife.

Millie Brammer slid the patio door open for Bentley but didn’t follow him outside. The large deck was covered by a lattice roof that had been completely engulfed by a very aggressive wisteria vine-a vine that Joe Brammer and a man Bentley assumed was Brammer’s father were attempting to tame, with Jamie gathering up the cut branches and piling them on a tarp. The three of them stopped midaction, guarded expressions on their faces-expressions that Bentley understood. He was, after all, here representing Amanda Hartmann, and he had gotten Jamie into a situation that had almost ended her life.