“And I love you.” She looked up at him, her eyes hopeful. “What will we name her?”

“What would you like to name her?”

“I thought perhaps Shalina for my grandmother. But we live in America now, and I assume we will for quite a while. Am I correct in that assumption?”

He nodded, but his heart plummeted. Zachary Maxwell had no clue as to what he would do, what he wanted to do, where or how, and his confusion, the muddle in his brain, frustrated and angered him. He detested his father-in-law for so precipitously, and without their input, changing their lives. How dare the man shove tickets at them and wave good-bye? The fact that he had not protested or even asked a question, that he might have some responsibility in the matter, never crossed Zachary Maxwell’s mind.

The news from India, from Sarina’s eldest sister, the informal family spokesperson, told of continued raids and killings in the province from which they had fled. Several of their father’s fields and crops had been burned. Although the family had had no part in the argument about the site of the mosque, they represented the haves, and it appeared that the have-nots were determined to change the status quo. There were, she reported, no plans to return to their home in the north, and although her sister wrote that they were missed, there was never a mention of Zachary and Sarina returning to the bosom of her family. Crap. He never liked India anyway. Too damned hot.

Sarina’s voice broke into his musing. “I don’t want her burdened with a name over which children in school will tease her. So, something American and simple will be fine.”

“My mother’s name was Arabella. She hated it and changed it to Bella, but I don’t want to name her for my mother. I couldn’t bear calling ‘Bella’ all the time. It would seem as if I were calling my mother.” He fell silent, then said, “How about Sarah? Sarah has the s letter of your grandmother’s name, but it’s pure American.”

“Sarah. Yes. That is fine. I do indeed like that very much. Sarah, an American girl.”

An American girl with the face and soul of India, Zachary thought as he bent again to kiss his wife.

Sarina wound her arms about his neck and held him. Her heart ached that her mother and her sisters were not here to celebrate with her the birth of her child.