Children of the Storm

broken and badly repaired. His lips were thin, almost cruel, and were not now curled into either a smile or a frown, but held tight and bloodless and straight, as if he were just barely able to hold down his fury. She could not imagine what he could be furious with her for.
        “Miss Carter?”
        His voice was hard, raspy, and-if a voice could be described by more than sound-cold enough to chill her.
        “Yes?”
        Her own voice sounded small, weak and miserable by comparison, and she wondered if he could sense her uncertainty and her fear.
        “My name's Rudolph Saine.”
        “Pleased to meet you,” she said, though she was not particularly pleased at all.
        He said, “I'm the childrens' bodyguard.”
        “I hadn't heard they had one,” she said.
        He nodded. “That's understandable. The other members of the staff don't know me that well yet, and since they've all been together for years, I sort of fade out of their minds. I only came on with Mr. Dougherty when he had to move down here. And most of my time is spent with the kids, away from the others.”
        “Well, Mr. Saine,” she said, “I imagine you and I will be seeing quite a lot of each other.” The prospect didn't please her, but she tried to smile for him.
        “Yes,” he said. He looked at her carefully, as if scrutinizing a possibly dangerous insect, apparently decided she had no sting. “I'd like to talk with you about the chidrens' safety-some Do's and Don'ts, if you want to call them that.” He had moved his lips, but he had still avoided smiling or frowning, almost as if those expressions were completely beyond him. Sonya found him too sober and serious to be at ease with.
        “I'm just unpacking-” she began.
        “I won't take long.”
        “Well-”
        “I want to get some things straight, between us, right from the very start.”
        She hesitated a moment more, then stepped back, holding the door, and said, “Come in.”
        Rudolph Saine sat in the largest of the two easy chairs in the room and nearly filled it to overflowing. He gripped the cedar arms in his hands, as if he were afraid the thing might start to fly at any moment-or as if he thought he might have to get up in a great rush and launch himself at some enemy or other.
        Sonya chose the edge of the mammoth Polynesian bed and said, “Now, Mr. Saine, what should I know?”
        He said, “You must never take the kids anywhere without calling me first. Every time you venture away from the house, you must be certain that I am with you.”
        “Sounds simple enough.”
        “Even if you're only taking them out to the pavilion,” he elaborated, “I want to go along.”
        “I'll remember that.”
        “I feel they're safe within the house itself, during the daylight hours anyway, but I never feel comfortable when they're outside.”
        “I can understand that.”
        “Even when they're in the house,” Saine went on, “I'm right there with them about half the time -or I'm within sight of them, or within earshot if they should call for me.”
        Sonya supposed Saine's diligence was admirable, but she wished that he wouldn't go on about it so, for it only served to remind her what Bill Peterson had told her on the boat, earlier. She was trying to think about the vitality of the Caribbean, the bright future she had, the good times that awaited her. She did not want to face the fact that death might have followed her from the north into this sunny land.
        She said, “Rest assured, I'll not take them anywhere without you.”
        His thin lips seemed to grow even thinner. He said, “I sleep next to their room, and I usually remain awake until four in the morning, for it's between two and four that most people choose to break into a house. I sleep from four until eleven, and I'm up and ready for duty by noon. I'd appreciate it if you could limit your excursions, away from the house, to the afternoons or evenings.”
        “No trouble,” Sonya said.
        “Thank you.”
        “Anything else?” she asked, getting up, trying to imply by her movement that she wasn't anxious to hear anything else, even if he were not finished.
        “One thing.”
        “That is?”
        He hesitated, looked away from her for the first time and, then, gaming resolution from some source she could not guess, looked back again and said, “Occasionally, Miss