Despite having been born elsewhere, Francis knew the language and the culture of the area well. He was also known by many of the town’s people. Once they were ashore, Claire watched Francis’ interaction with the natives. Over the years, he’d obviously earned their respect.

Claire didn’t see any motorized vehicles other than water craft. She whispered to Francis, “Does anyone drive cars here?”

“Oui, Madame el”—he pointed toward a large mountain in the distance—“There’s one road that comes around the mountain, but driving it takes much time. Most traveling and shipments, they come by plane or helicopter. The airport is not far.”

Claire remembered Phil telling her that by air she could be at a state of the art medical facility in less than two hours.

Tony asked, “Are there always planes at the ready and pilots? Or do they need to be reserved in advance?”

“Reserved is better,” Francis answered. “However, most requests can be accommodated quickly.”

Tony decided, since they had time, he wanted to see the airport. Claire wasn’t interested. She decided to spend her time walking around the town until her doctor’s appointment. First, she entered what she considered to be the equivalent of a grocery store. Many of the town’s people spoke enough English to help Claire if she had any questions. There were also stands or booths along the side of the road with items for sale. It appeared many of the natives did more bartering than buying and selling. The road was defined and hard, but not paved—well-tried dirt. On her way to the doctor’s office, Claire passed two taverns and decided alcohol was a universal language.

The waiting area of the doctor’s office was full of people, yet when Claire entered, the nurse immediately led her back to one of the examination rooms. “My husband will be here in a few minutes. I’d like to wait for him.”

“Your husband?” the nurse beamed. “But of course. Will you learn your baby’s gender today?”

Claire smiled. “I sure hope so. Can we please do another ultrasound?”

“Let me check with the doctor. It’s his decision.”

After a few minutes of being alone, the door opened. When Tony entered, Claire knew why she hadn’t heard the customary pre-enter knock. Grinning toward his handsome face, Claire thought how knocking had never been his forte. Tony’s deep voice and sparkling eyes revealed his excitement. “I thought your appointment wasn’t for another half an hour. I didn’t miss anything, did I?”

“No,” she reached out to hold his hand. “They brought me back as soon as I arrived. I have a little habit of being early for appointments.”

Tony snickered. “I like that habit.”

“I know you do.”

As their lips united, there was a knock on the door. Claire’s eyes twinkled as she called, “Come in.”

The nurse entered, “Oh, hello, you must be Mr. Nichols?”

Claire watched as Tony’s lips twitched. Suppressing her giggle, she replied, “This is my husband. Rawlings is our last name. Nichols was my maiden name.”

The nurse apologized and explained that, after Claire’s exam, the doctor would allow another ultrasound. When they were alone again, Tony asked, “Are you sure there isn’t a problem using our real names?”

“Francis assured me and so did Phil, this place as well as others like it, are known for their discretion. Apparently, we aren’t the only people here, or in the world, willing to pay big money to hide. It’s a great source of income for areas where resources are limited. They’re paid very well to keep our information private.”

Tony nodded. “If they’re paid that well, then I’d think we could have an ultrasound whenever we wanted”—he squeezed her hand—“And I want one!”

She grinned. “Me too!”—her smiled faded—“Tony, I hope you aren’t disappointed, I mean I know you keep saying you don’t care if our baby is a boy or a girl, but I think you do.”

“I really don’t. I promise I won’t be disappointed. Healthy is what I want. I also want you healthy and safe. The only things that we’ll accomplish today will be learning whether we need to order blue or pink baby things and narrow our name discussion to one gender.”

Claire smiled. They’d discussed names a little bit—mostly, they seemed to discuss boy’s names. When they Googled the most popular names for the last year, Sophia came up for girls and Aiden for boys. Tony immediately nixed Sophia. When he explained his reasoning, Claire was shocked. She had no idea Catherine had a daughter. The story was especially wild when he explained that Sophia was the artist who painted Claire’s wedding portrait. Apparently, he’d been watching her since Nathaniel died. It wasn’t done for vengeance—Tony’s voyeurism of Sophia was the fulfillment of a promise to Nathaniel—to watch over Catherine’s daughter. Tony didn’t know why Catherine didn’t want to see her, but the night he was taken into FBI custody, Tony was about to tell Sophia the truth about her mother. Obviously, he never got the chance.