Читать книгу: «Wanted: Father for Her Baby: Keeping Baby Secret / Five Brothers and a Baby / Expecting Brand's Baby», страница 3

Haley paused, glanced over her shoulder and said, “See if you can get her to eat something. And if you say or do anything to upset her, you’ll answer to me.”

The minute Haley closed the door, Frank came up behind Leenie. Her breath caught in her throat. A part of her still wanted his arms around her; another part of her wanted to tell him to go away and leave her alone. She simply stood there, those stupid diamond earrings glimmering in the fading late afternoon sunlight coming through the sheer window curtains. Why had she put on these earrings? Had she thought he’d actually remember her wearing them?

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She looked at his reflection in the mirror and plainly saw the sincerity of his words in the expression on his face. And in his eyes. Those stormy-sea gray eyes that spoke volumes.

Emotion tightened her throat. She couldn’t speak, so she nodded.

He touched her then. Those big, hard hands tenderly clutched her shoulders. Don’t fall apart, she told herself. Don’t crumble and fall into his arms. He’s not here for you. He came because of Andrew.

“I know you had your reasons for not telling me you were pregnant,” he said. “You probably figured I wouldn’t relish the news of impending fatherhood.”

She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.

His hands tightened ever so slightly on her shoulders. “After the way we ended things, you had no reason to think I’d want to be a part of Andrew’s life.”

“I should have told you,” she finally managed to say.

“It doesn’t matter now. Finding Andrew and bringing him home is what matters. And I swear to you, Leenie, I’ll move heaven and earth to do that.”

She swallowed the tears choking her. Of its own accord her body swayed backward toward his and the minute it did, he slid his hands downward from her shoulders and wrapped his arms around her. Her back pressed against his chest and for the first time since Andrew had been kidnapped, she felt a sense of hope. Crazy as the notion was, her heart believed that Frank could keep his promise to bring their baby home to her.

“I love him so,” she said. “He’s everything…to…me.” Her shaky voice grew softer with each word as she tried in vain to keep from crying. “At first I couldn’t…cry. Now I—I can’t…seem…to stop…crying.”

Hugging her comfortingly, he lowered his head and pressed his cheek against her temple. “I wish I could cry. God knows I feel like it.”

Startled by his comment, she stiffened in his arms. Frank Latimer crying? She couldn’t imagine it. Was he saying that he cared about Andrew, even loved him? Was it possible that he was actually pleased about having a son? Or was his reaction strictly impersonal, the kind any normal person would have after learning a two-month-old baby had been kidnapped?

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. “You’re wondering what kind of man I am, if I’m pleased to be a father or horrified. You’re thinking how dare he care now, after the fact. Why didn’t he call me after he left Maysville nearly a year ago? He’s a day late and a dollar short.”

As the tension drained from her body, she allowed his strength to support her. Instinct told her that despite their past history, Frank was a man she could lean on, a man she could count on when the chips were down. And God knew she needed somebody strong right now, someone who felt what she felt—the panic and terror, the excruciating pain. Only Andrew’s father could even begin to understand the depth of her feelings.

“How do you feel about having a child?” She avoided looking at his reflection in the mirror. She knew that no matter what he said, his true reaction would show on his face. She’d learned that much about him during their brief interlude. Frank Latimer did not have a poker face.

He turned her in his arms. “Look at me, Leenie.”

She lifted her gaze to meet his and saw confusion in his eyes, as well as concern.

“I’m not sure how I feel,” he admitted. “I never thought about being a father. I knew, after my divorce, that I’d never get married again. And I’m just old-fashioned enough to think a guy should get married before he fathers a child. I don’t have unsafe sex. You know that.”

“Condoms aren’t foolproof,” she told him. “And I wasn’t on the pill. Most doctors recommend another form of birth control for women after they turn thirty-five.”

“You don’t have to explain. We thought we were being careful. Responsible. Accident’s happen.”

“Is that how you think of Andrew, as an accident?” Heat suffused her face as her temper rose.

“Don’t put words in my mouth. All I’m saying is that Andrew’s conception was an accident. I just found out today that I’m a father. Give me some time to figure out what I think about having a child. You had nine months of pregnancy and two months with Andrew to figure out how you feel. Did you know immediately when you found out you were pregnant that you wanted the child, that you loved him?”

Well, he had her there. No, of course she hadn’t known immediately that she loved and wanted her baby. When she’d read the home pregnancy test, she’d panicked. And when the doctor had confirmed her condition, she’d stayed in a state of shock for days. She had even considered an abortion. But only for about two minutes.

“You’re right. I was being unfair putting you on the spot that way.”

He cupped her face with his hands. “I do know this—I care about Andrew. And I’ll do whatever it takes to bring our son home to you. Once he’s back in your arms, we’ll figure out where to go from there.”

“Fair enough.” She swallowed fresh tears.

“I realize we’re little more than strangers to each other. We had a whirlwind love affair and we spent most of our time making love, not getting acquainted.”

She nodded.

“I’d like to learn more about Andrew, if you’re willing to talk to me about him. It might help you. Hell, it might help both of us. But if you’d rather not, it’s okay.”

She pulled away from Frank, walked across the room and picked up the most recent photograph of her baby. “This was taken a few weeks ago. It’s a picture of him I took with my digital camera. I enlarged it and framed it.” She held it out to Frank.

He didn’t move for a couple of minutes, as if he were afraid of the picture. Was he wondering how his first glimpse of his son would affect him?

“He’s asleep in this picture, so you can’t see his eyes.” She moved toward Frank, the framed photograph in her hand. “He has blue eyes, like mine. And blond hair. Not much hair, mostly just baby-fine fluff.” He has your mouth, your chin and your hands and feet, she wanted to say, but didn’t. “He’s big for his age. He weighed nine pounds, five ounces, when he was born.”

Frank glanced down at the picture, then reached out and took it. He stared at the photo for what seemed like forever, then smiled and said, “He looks like you. Lucky kid.”

Leenie clenched her teeth to keep from crying.

“I guess he’ll grow up to be tall, huh, since I’m six-three and you’re—what?—five-nine or ten.” Frank looked at her.

She nodded. “He has big hands and big feet. Long toes and long fingers.” She cast her gaze on Frank’s hand holding the frame.

“Like me.” He looked at Andrew’s picture again, then handed it back to Leenie.

She placed the frame on the bedside table and slumped down on the edge of the bed. When she turned back to Frank, she noticed he was headed toward the door. Don’t leave me, she wanted to cry, please don’t leave me.

He glanced back at her. “I need to get my bag out of the rental car. I’m going to stay here with you until we find Andrew, if that’s all right.”

Her heart soared. “Yes. Yes, it’s all right with me.”

He offered her a forced smile, then opened the door.

“Thank you,” she called.

He paused momentarily, but didn’t turn or speak; then he left.

When Frank brought his bag in, Haley Wilson stopped him in the foyer. “Are you planning on staying?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Look, Ms. Wilson, if you have something to say to me, just say it.”

“All right. Leenie is one of the strongest, most independent women I know. But she’s vulnerable right now. Her whole life is hanging in the balance because Andrew is her life. I don’t know if you can understand that, but as a mother myself, I do. So, no matter what your own feelings are or how you plan to deal with things when y’all get Andrew back, right now, Leenie needs you. She needs your support and your comfort.”

“I agree.”

Haley stared at him, a puzzled expression on her face. “She hasn’t slept since the night before last and she hasn’t eaten since lunch yesterday. I’ve gotten her to drink a little tea, but that’s all. Do you think you could get her to eat?”

“Is there any cheesecake in the house?” Frank asked, remembering how they had devoured cheesecake at dawn, after a marathon lovemaking session.

Haley cocked her head sideways and smiled. “You do know a little something about her, don’t you? As for the cheesecake—I had my husband stop by the bakery and drop one by here a little while ago.”

Frank dumped his bag in the corner of the foyer. “I’ll take her a piece and make sure she eats it.” He looked directly at Leenie’s friend. “I’m going to take care of her. I promise.”

This woman had no way of knowing that Frank Latimer didn’t make promises easily, that when he made one, he kept it.

Five minutes later, Frank entered Leenie’s bedroom. He carried two slices of cheesecake and two cups of hot tea on a tray. Leenie glanced up at him from where she still sat on the edge of the bed. She clutched a damp, wrinkled handkerchief in her hand.

“Snack time.” He walked over, placed the tray on the bed and sat beside her. “Cheesecake and hot tea. Remember?”

“Yes, I remember, but I’m surprised that you do.”

He lifted one plate and fork and handed them to her. “Eat up.”

“Frank, I’m not—”

“Eat.” He picked up the other plate, sliced off a large chunk of cheesecake and slid it into his mouth. After chewing and swallowing, he sighed dramatically. “Nothing better than cheesecake, except—”

“Sex,” she finished his sentence.

Grinning, he took a second bite before placing his plate back on the tray. He eased his hand under her hand to support her plate, then lifted her fork and cut off a piece of the cheesecake and lifted it to her mouth. She parted her lips; he slid the cheesecake into her mouth. As soon as she finished one bite, he gave her another, and then another—slowly, patiently—until three-fourths of her slice was gone.

“I can’t eat anymore,” she told him.

He set her plate on the tray, then handed her the tea. While she sipped the tea, he drank his, watching her all the while. After she drained her cup, he removed the tray from the bed and placed it on the floor.

Leenie was dead on her feet, worn out from lack of sleep and the stress of not knowing where Andrew was or if he was all right. Frank realized she needed more than cheesecake and tea. She needed to rest. He scooted up in her bed until his back hit the headboard, then he reached out, grasped Leenie’s hand and tugged on it urging her to join him. They sat side-byside in her bed, their backs resting against the headboard. Frank put his arm around her shoulders and cuddled her against him.

“Would you believe I had blond hair and blue eyes when I was a baby?” he said.

“What?” Turning her head sideways, she glanced over at him.

“I had blond hair and blue eyes like Andrew. So his eyes could turn gray later on and his hair might not stay blond like yours.”

She laid her head on his shoulder. “I was bald when I was born. Well, actually, I think I had some white fuzz, but it wasn’t much. I have a couple of baby pictures that a distant relative sent me when I contacted her after I grew up and started searching for any family I might have.”

“That’s right. You grew up in foster homes, didn’t you?”

“Uh-huh. After my parents died, I got shuffled from one foster home to another, until I was fifteen and wound up with Debra and Jerry Schmale.”

“Debra? The same Debra who’s Andrew’s nanny?”

“That’s right.” Leenie yawned.

“How’s she doing after her surgery?”

“I spoke to her doctor earlier today and he said she should be able to go into a private room tomorrow. Debra’s a wonderful person, the only real mother-figure I ever had that I can remember. My own mother died when I was four and I can barely remember her.”

“I grew up in a fairly conventional family. Mom, dad and an older sister. Then when I was twelve my parents divorced. Ripped us to shreds. My sister went with Mom and I lived with Dad.”

“It must have been difficult for you.”

“Pure hell. You see, my mother had taken a lover and my father wanted to make her pay for her sins.” Frank glanced at Leenie, her eyes shut, her lips slightly parted, her breathing soft and even.

“Did you hate your mother after that?” Leenie asked, her voice hushed.

“Yeah, I hated her for a long, long time, but that’s all in the past now,” Frank said, looking at the way Leenie’s eyelids closed and realizing what she needed was sleep. He moved on to more mundane topics and Leenie melted against him as she began drifting off to sleep. He kept talking quietly until he knew she was fast asleep, then he eased her down into the bed so that her head rested in his lap. He pulled the folded quilt at the foot of the bed up and over her. While she slept, he watched her. Drank his fill of her.

He admitted to himself that he’d missed Leenie while they’d been apart. He’d missed seeing her, talking to her, having sex with her. She was the first woman since Rita who’d stirred something inside him other than lust.

But you don’t love her, Frank told himself. She’s special. She’s the mother of your child. But you do not love her.

He caressed her hair and the side of her face tenderly. “Get some rest, Slim. I’m here now. You won’t have to go through this alone.”

Chapter Four

Andrew dangled helpless over the deep, dark well, a large hand holding him by the nape of his tiny neck. The hand loosened its grip and released the baby. His frightened cries echoed in the blackness as he fell down, down, down. God, no…no…no! Leenie tried to reach out and grab her son, but her efforts were useless. All she could do was scream in terror.

“Leenie…Leenie…wake up.”

Strong masculine hands grasped her shoulders and shook her gently. She tried to fight him, fear spiraling through her alarmingly.

“Slim, it’s me—Frank. Wake up. You were having a nightmare.”

She opened her eyes suddenly and stared into Frank Latimer’s concerned gray eyes.

“Oh, Frank, it was awful. Someone dropped Andrew into a deep well. He was crying…crying for me.”

Frank pulled her up off the bed and into his arms, his strength enveloping her. She clung to him, her mind and nerves rioting. “It was just a bad dream,” he told her.

“I know.” She burrowed her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. “But he’s out there—lost.” She lifted her head and stared at Frank. “We have to find him. Please, tell me that we can save him. Make me believe that he’s not lost to me forever.”

Frank brushed loose strands of hair out of her face. His hand lingered, his fingertips caressed. And then he withdrew. She felt the emotional withdrawal as keenly as the physical release. He eased out of bed, his back to her, and said nothing for several awkward minutes.

“Frank?”

“I’ll do everything I can, but…” He turned halfway toward her, his jaw tense, his gaze unfocused as he glared off into nothingness. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep. I’ve already sworn to you that I would move heaven and earth to bring Andrew home, and I meant it. I’ll do everything humanly possible. But the honest truth is that even though I’d do anything to rescue Andrew, I can’t promise you that I can bring him back to you safe and sound.”

Her heart lurched, then sank. This wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear. She had thought he would reinforce his earlier vow to rescue Andrew and had longed to hear him say those comforting words. Even knowing Frank wasn’t a miracle worker, she believed in him. He was her last best hope.

“What time is it?” she asked, needing the mundane to keep her sane, to take her mind out of the horrific abyss that sucked her in and kept repeating terrifying mental images of her baby’s death.

Frank glanced at his wristwatch. “Nearly fourthirty.”

“I slept quite a while.” As she stretched, every muscle in her body cried from the tension that had played havoc on her physically, mentally and emotionally.

“You needed the rest. Your friend Haley said you haven’t slept since Andrew’s abduction.” Frank glanced at the stacked empty dishes on the tray. “You should try to eat some supper later on.”

“You’re beginning to sound like a mother hen—telling me to rest and to eat.”

“It’s the training,” he told her. “Part of the regimen for looking after someone is making sure they take care of themselves. A Dundee agent is an allaround bodyguard. He or she tries to not only protect the client, but see to their well-being.”

“And am I a client? Is that how you think of me now?”

“You’re putting words in my mouth again, Slim.”

“I’m only interpreting what I hear you say.”

“You’re misinterpreting,” he said. “And you’re being argumentative. Why? Are you angry with me for some reason?”

Was she angry with him? Yes. No. Maybe.

Leenie got out of bed, rubbed the back of her sore neck and slipped on her shoes. Had Frank taken her shoes off after she’d fallen asleep? More of his allaround bodyguard duties? Was that it—the reason she suddenly felt so hostile toward him? Because he’d acted as if his kindness to her wasn’t anything personal?

“I’m angry with the world right now,” she admitted. “Besides, I believe that should be my question, not yours. After all, you’re the one who has every right to be angry and upset with me for keeping Andrew’s existence a secret from you.”

He shot her a quick glance, then looked away before he replied, “I told you before that now is not the time for us to be at cross purposes, that once Andrew is safely home will be time enough to—”

“To what? For you to tell me what you really think, how you really feel?”

“I don’t know how I feel. I don’t want to dig too deep right now.” He looked at her. “You’re hurting enough for both of us. I need to stay as detached and as unemotional as possible.”

“Can you do that? Can you be unemotional when it comes to Andrew?”

Could he actually remain detached where his own child was concerned? If so, then he certainly wasn’t the man she’d thought he was. But then again, she didn’t really know Frank Latimer. He was a stranger with whom she’d had a passionate fling. She knew without a doubt that he was an incredible lover. Considerate. Attentive. She knew he liked his coffee black, his whiskey straight and his loving frequent. But beyond the obvious, she knew nothing, except what little he’d told her today. And the same held true for him—he didn’t know who the real Lurleen Patton was.

When the silence between them became more than she could bear, she said, “Can’t you answer me?”

“What do you want me to say? Yes, I care about my son. I’m not a heartless bastard. But for God’s sake, Leenie, I haven’t even seen him or touched him or held him. And I’ve known that I’m a father for only a few hours.”

“I’m sorry. I—”

“No, I’m sorry,” he told her. “Sorry I can’t say whatever it is you need for me to say. But the more unemotional and detached I can be, the clearer my thinking, the more logical I’ll act and react. Don’t you see—”

“I see. I see a man who’s afraid to feel. You don’t want to love Andrew. You don’t want to love anybody because sometimes love hurts.”

Clenching her teeth in an effort not to burst into fresh tears, Leenie rushed toward the door, wanting to get away from Frank. But he caught up with her just as she reached for the doorknob. He grasped her arm. She stopped and glared at him.

“There it is again,” he said. “Anger. You’re angry with me. Want to tell me why? I’ve tried to be honest with you, so how about being honest with me?”

She jerked her arm loose and took a step backward, but she kept her gaze boldly glued to his. “You want honesty? All right. I kept Andrew a secret from you because I didn’t know how you’d react. I was half afraid you’d want to take him away from me and half afraid you’d tell me you didn’t give a damn. But your reaction is somewhere in between and I can’t figure you out. I feel like a fool for having gotten myself pregnant by a man I don’t even know. And a part of me is angry because on some completely stupid female level I needed you to care—really care. Not just about Andrew, but about me. I needed you to not be detached and unemotional.”

They stood there staring at each other for several minutes until the silence stretched tautly and the tension mounted.

A solid, repetitive knock on the door snapped the tension and ended the silence.

“Frank?” Kate Malone called.

Frank opened the door. “Yeah, what is it?”

“Moran wants to talk to you and Dr. Patton.”

“Has something happened?” Leenie asked.

“No bad news,” Kate said. “He just wants to go over some things with y’all.”

Frank held the door open while Leenie walked into the hall and joined Kate, then he followed behind them, down the hall and into the living room. Only Dante Moran occupied the room, which made Leenie wonder where the other FBI agents were and if Haley was still here.

“Come on in,” Moran said. “Please. We need to talk.”

“Is Haley—?”

“Mrs. Wilson went home,” Kate replied. “She said if you need her, to call her. The house was getting a little crowded, what with two Dundee agents and several FBI agents.”

“Where are the other agents?” Leenie asked.

“From here on out, they’ll work in shifts. We have your phone tapped and we’re fully prepared to act at a moment’s notice,” Moran said. “The crucial first twenty-four hours has ended.” When Leenie stared at him quizzically, he continued. “If the kidnapper is going to demand a ransom, the family usually hears something within the first twenty-four hours.”

Kate answered Leenie’s next question before she asked it. “Which means that more than likely Andrew was not kidnapped for ransom money, but for another reason.”

“How will we know if the woman who stole him kept him, that she wanted him for herself?” Wasn’t that the best case scenario for a kidnapping? Leenie wondered.

“We can’t know for sure.” Moran cut a sideways glance at Frank. “Did you tell her about the abduction ring?”

“What abduction ring?” Leenie’s heart skipped a beat.

Frank shook his head. “I didn’t get a chance to tell her.”

“What abduction ring?” Leenie repeated her question.

“The bureau is aware that there is an infant abduction ring operating in the South and it is possible that your baby was taken in order to sell him,” Moran told her.

“Sell him? You mean—”

“Sell him to people who desperately want to adopt a child,” Kate explained. “Unfortunately there is a shortage of white infants and some people are willing to pay an exorbitant amount in order to procure a child through any means necessary.”

“They’re willing to buy a child that’s been stolen from a loving home?” Leenie looked from Kate to Moran, but she couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact with Frank.

“In all fairness, these people are told that the children have been willingly given up by parents who don’t want them and these adoptive parents want a child so much that they kid themselves into believing whatever they need to believe.” Kate put her hand on Leenie’s shoulder. “Don’t give up hope. Don’t ever give up hope.”

Having noted a peculiar tone in Kate’s voice, Leenie studied her for several moments. The two women exchanged silent confidences and unspoken pain. Without truly understanding, Leenie knew that at some time in her life Kate Malone had suffered an intolerable loss, perhaps the loss of a child. She reached up and covered Kate’s hand with her own. “I won’t give up.” She squeezed Kate’s hand, then turned to Frank. “From now on, please don’t keep anything from me. I’m not some weak, trembling female who can’t handle the truth. Yes, I’ve been crying a great deal and I’m scared out of my mind and I’ll gladly lean on anybody who’ll let me. But do not treat me as if I’m a child myself. Do I make myself clear?”

Frank glowered at her for a split second. “Yeah. Crystal clear.” Looking as if she’d slapped him, Frank darted a glance from Moran to Kate, then grumbled, “I need a breath of fresh air.”

“And I need a smoke,” Moran said, “but I’ll settle for some of that cold fresh air outside.”

As soon as the two men disappeared into the kitchen, presumably to go out on the porch or into the backyard, Kate turned to Leenie and offered a comforting smile.

“Cut Frank some slack,” Kate advised. “Basically he’s a good guy. It’s just that discovering he’s a father has thrown him for a loop. You may think Andrew’s kidnapping isn’t as hard on him as it is you, but it probably is. Maybe even more so.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Because he’s thinking that if—just if, mind you—Andrew isn’t rescued, then he’ll never see his son or hold him or get the chance to love him.”

“And I have seen him and held him and loved him.”

“Look, this is none of my business. Not really.” Kate clicked her tongue. “Want some advice from a busybody?”

Leenie wanted to ask Kate the question that hung heavily between them—did you lose a child?—but she didn’t ask. “I’m taking my frustration out on Frank, aren’t I? And I shouldn’t. Isn’t that what you were going to say?”

“Something like that.” Kate nodded. “Frank’s not the enemy.”

“Who is the enemy? Someone who might still call and ask for ransom? Some crazy woman who stole my baby for herself? Some maniac who kills babies? Or the money-hungry abduction ring who steals babies and sells them?”

“We don’t know which. Not yet.”

“When will we know?”

Kate closed her eyes for a millisecond as if she’d suddenly experienced a pain too agonizing to bear, then she took a deep, cleansing breath and replied, “I don’t know the answer to that either. We may find out tomorrow. Or next week. Or maybe never.” She reached out and grabbed Leenie’s shoulders. “But no matter how long it takes, do not give up. Don’t ever let anyone convince you to give up.”

Before Leenie could respond, Kate released her and walked away, mumbling something about needing to go to the bathroom as she disappeared down the hall.

Leenie sank down into the nearest chair, leaned over, propped her elbows on her knees and cupped her face with her open palms. Sitting there alone, the house eerily quiet, she said one more prayer.

Please, dear God, keep Andrew safe and bring him home to me. Home to me and Frank.

Kate handed Moran a cup of coffee, then poured one for herself and sat down across the kitchen table from him. “Where did Frank go?” she asked.

“For a walk down the street. He said to tell you he’d be back in a little while.”

Kate studied Dante Moran, a dark, compellingly handsome man, with danger written all over him. She didn’t think she’d ever met such a cool character and she’d known her share of self-confident, powerful men. Her ex-husband had been rich, powerful and arrogant in a way only someone born and bred into wealth and power can be. Most of the time she managed not to think about Trent Winston. Trenton Bayard Winston IV. But this kidnapping case had brought back all the old and painful memories. It was only natural that she’d think about Trent, wasn’t it, and wonder how he was doing? She hadn’t seen him in nearly eleven years. Not since—

“How’s she holding up?” Moran nodded toward the living room.

“Dr. Patton? She’s doing okay, considering her child is missing and that child’s father is trying to help her and probably saying and doing all the wrong things.”

“Men are like that.” Moran’s lips twitched with a hint of humor.

“Yes, you are. All of you.”

“Including your ex?”

“How’d you know—You didn’t, did you? Not until I reacted. And before you ask, I do not want to talk about him or about it.”

“It?” Moran cocked an inquisitive eyebrow.

“It. The divorce. What about you, Moran—got an ex-wife and a less than pleasant divorce you don’t want to talk about?”

“No marriages. No divorces.”

“Hmm-mmm.”

“And before you ask—”

“Why is a guy who’s decidedly over thirty-five never been married?”

“Yeah, that’s the question I don’t want you to ask.” He actually grinned.

“Being a woman, my guess would be either unrequited love and you’re still hoping to eventually woo and win her…or you loved and lost and—” A flicker of something incomprehensible danced in Moran’s black eyes, coming and going so quickly that she could have imagined it. But she hadn’t. Loved and lost. That was it. Moran’s it that he couldn’t bear to talk about, the way her divorce from Trent was her unbearable it.

Moran sipped on his coffee. Kate did the same.

The phone rang and both of them tensed.

He got up and rushed into the living room. Kate quickly followed. Leenie stood by the phone, allowing it to ring, and looked to Moran for direction the minute she saw him. He nodded and motioned for her to answer the phone.

Although Leenie’s hand trembled as she lifted the receiver, her voice was steady when she said, “This is Dr. Lurleen Patton.” Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. She gasped, then responded, “No, thank you, I’m not interested in a free vacation.” She slammed down the receiver.

Kate released the breath she’d unknowingly been holding. “It’s after five. Why don’t I put together some sandwiches for us?”