What had happened? Clay glanced down the ward. Part of him wanted to rush to Leah’s bedside, and the other part wanted to honor her wishes and leave.

Dr. Hill had taught him to respect patients’ privacy in order to maintain trust, but right now gnawing concern drove his feet down the aisle.

Leah wasn’t reading in the chair as usual. She lay curled up in bed, clutching the blanket under her chin, staring at the empty bed beside her.

Clay made his voice as soft as possible. “Leah?”

She startled, glanced up at him, and closed her eyes. “I—I’m sorry. Would you mind? I don’t feel like talking.” Her face was as pale as on the night she’d almost bled to death.

Clay lowered himself into the chair and set the violin case on the floor. “You don’t have to talk. I could read to you.”

She shook her head and rolled over, away from him.

Clay licked his lips. “I have the violin. I could play for you.”

“No, thank you.”

What was wrong? She hadn’t withdrawn after she’d been attacked, after she’d almost died. However, his curiosity gave way to compassion. “All right. I’ll sit here and pray for you, but I’m not leaving. You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

Leah gasped and glanced back over her shoulder, brushing black curls off her face. “They told you?”

“No one told me anything. The nurse just said you needed cheering up.”

Leah’s head flopped down to the pillow. “It’s useless.”

“Hey, now. Where’s the young lady who can find good in any situation?”

“There is no good in this.”

Clay sighed. “Give it time.”

“This can never be good. Never.” Her voice choked.

Everything in Clay wanted to force her to tell him what was wrong so he could heal it, but something deep inside restrained him, lowering his head and his eyelids. “Father in heaven, I don’t know what happened, but you do and you’re the only one who needs to know. Your child Leah is hurting. Please hold her tight and comfort her. Please—”

Leah hauled in a loud breath, almost a sob. “I’m pregnant.”

Clay’s eyes flew open. “Pardon?”

“I—I’m going to have a baby.” She curled up even tighter.

Clay’s mind whirled between shock at the news, fury at the man who did this to her, and aching concern for Leah.

The last time he’d heard those words, he’d only felt fury and humiliation. Ellen Hill standing on his parents’ doorstep, her belly swollen with Adler’s child, begging to be taken in after her parents moved out of town and left her behind.

But Leah . . . she was an innocent. She was only eighteen and had no family to care for her.

“Oh, Leah. I’m so sorry. What are you . . . do you know what you’re going to do?”