by Patty Blount
And then she gave herself a good swift mental kick for that thought. She had a perfect baby girl.
Who needed anything more?
Chapter Two
The night was long.
Reid woke while it was still dark, scrubbing his nose with his knuckles. He swore he could smell her—baby powder, no-more-tears shampoo, and apple juice all at the same time.
Erin.
His entire body shook and trembled with the need to see her, to hold her, to have her alive.
He sat up in bed, swung his legs to the floor and forced deep breaths in and out of his lungs. His daughter was gone. Dead.
Dead, dead, dead.
The word echoed inside his skull, every reverberation a hammer strike to his heart.
It happened every time he saw a baby that reminded him of Erin. He’d be fine as soon as his cold heart accepted what the brain knew. He got up, padded on bare feet to his bathroom and opened the lid on the toilet—an old habit Lynn had impressed on him. His marriage had crumbled soon after they’d buried Erin, but Lynn had hated the toilet open. Well, at least she’d taken those stupid wooly covers with her when she’d left him.
He flushed and ran the shower as hot as he could stand it. Slowly, the ache deep inside his core subsided. Oh, it never disappeared completely. But it was bearable once again. He slung a towel around his hips and stumbled to the kitchen to put the coffee on. He hated single-serve cups and let Lynn take the Keurig while he kept the old-fashioned percolator. He’d measured everything out the night before and plugged the pot into the outlet while he returned to the bathroom to finish his morning routine. The slow thrum of the coffee perking helped to steady him and the aroma that quickly filled his small apartment cleared the fog from his brain. Just as he was about to pour a cup, his cell phone vibrated.
“Bennett,” he answered.
“Good morning, Sunshine. It’s Carrie.”
“Yeah, I know. Caller ID. What’s up?” Ordinarily, he liked Carrie, the admin at the fire house. She was a no-nonsense pro who took no crap from anybody. Including him.
“Tour One is short-handed and you’re next up on the rotation.”
Reid groaned. Midnight to eight AM. Just what he needed after barely sleeping last night. “What about my regular tour?”
“You’re off today. Your two days’ down starts at eight AM tomorrow and then you can return to Tour Two, so shouldn’t be a problem.”
Yeah, if he actually were able to sleep. Reid tried to focus. He’d be sleeping all day Friday but would be off Friday night, Saturday, and back to work at eight AM on Sunday.
“Fine. See you tonight.”
“In your dreams.” Carrie laughed and hung up on him.
He put the phone down and stared at it for a minute. He had the whole day to himself. What the hell should he do with it? With a grin, he put his travel mug away and took out his favorite coffee cup, filled it to the top. First things first, he decided. He took his coffee to the shabby sofa, clicked on the TV and caught up with the world with his feet up and his shirt off.
He could get used to this.
“Ma!”
Kara peeled open one eye, glanced at the clock. Five-forty. She glanced at the baby’s video nursery monitor. Nadia was standing in her crib, rubbing sleep out of her eyes, curls standing every which way. With a moan, she dragged herself out of bed and managed to climb safely over the gate that had kept Nadia in her room ever since she’d mastered doorknobs.
“Good morning, Milk Dud.”
Nadia raised both arms and whined to be picked up. Kara took her and put her instantly on the changing table. “Oh, boy. That’s a wet diaper, isn’t it?” Potty training wasn’t too far over the horizon. With a pang, Kara realized how fast Nadia had grown already. She was nearly eighteen months old already.
Kara stripped off the baby’s wet pajamas, tossed them into the laundry bin. The baby was sticky and smelly. “Want to take a bath, Nadia?” she asked with a sigh.
Her daughter’s eyes went wide and she pointed to the bright yellow duck in the corner of her room so Kara detoured and let Nadia pick it up. In the bathroom, she began filling the tub and Nadia dropped the duck into the water with a splash. Fifteen minutes later, she was soaked, the bathroom was half-flooded, but her daughter was squeaky clean again. She dressed Nadia in a fresh diaper and yellow two-piece outfit with a bright pink flower. She scooped up Nadia’s hair into a soft clip at the top of her head.
In the living room, she flipped on the TV and hit Play on Nadia’s favorite video. Nadia settled in front of the screen, dancing to the cheerful tune. Kara cut up a banana and poured some Cheerios onto a plate and put it on the coffee table. Nadia could pick when she was hungry. She poured her a cup of milk, too.
Now, she thought with a sigh, she could take care of coffee. She selected a single-serve cup, popped it into the machine, and waited—not patiently—for her travel mug to fill. Once that was done, she carefully fitted the lid to the mug—Nadia was a grabber—and settled on the sofa with her cell phone.
Today was Thursday. She usually worked every other day in the office. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, she was off, though she did tend to catch up on paperwork while Nadia slept. She was anxious to contact Ronald T. Saxon. She’d left messages yesterday because Mr. Drew had said the client wanted to meet her immediately, but none had been returned. She scrolled through her schedule. Tomorrow was light. If she heard back from Mr. Saxon, she could easily meet him.
Her phone pinged with a reminder. Jade’s bridal shower was fast approaching, not to mention the wedding.
Damn it, damn it, damn it! She’d completely forgotten. Well, that’s why her entire life was tapped into her iPhone. Okay, so she would head out on a shopping trip and then take Nadia to the park, let her run around and play. They’d have pizza for supper and hopefully, an early night so that Kara could brush up on the Saxon financials still in her bag.
Nadia drained her cup and flung it at Kara.
“Nadia, no. We don’t throw.”
Unperturbed, the baby climbed on the sofa beside Kara and made a grab for the iPhone, but Kara was too quick. “Uh uh. This isn’t a toy. This is Mommy’s. Where’s your phone?” She’d given Nadia her old Blackberry to play with. Nadia scanned the room, pointed to the shelf where the TV was.
“Go get it.”
Kara put her phone to her ear. “Ring, ring! Hurry, Nadia. Answer your phone.”
Nadia took the Blackberry, cradled it between her ear and shoulder.
“Hello? Who’s on the phone, Nadia?”
“Ay nuh.”
“Oh, hi, Elena!” Kara pretended. “Tell Aunt Elena about your show.” She watched, amused, as Nadia walked around the room, muttering words only she understood and making hand gestures to go with them. Kara picked up her working phone and recorded her daughter’s pretend game, sent the file to her sister’s phone. Elena would enjoy it. She sipped her coffee and settled back against the sofa, hoping Nadia would go down easy for the morning nap.
The baby coughed and Kara went tense. Her eyes searched for something, anything that might be wrong, but Nadia’s color was fine, her eyes were clear and bright and she’d finished her breakfast. It was likely nothing but Kara couldn’t help worrying. After all, she was still new at this mommy thing.
Her stomach rumbled and she took her coffee back to the kitchen, popped a few slices of bread in the toaster and found a container of yogurt in the refrigerator.
“Me.” Nadia joined her.
As they shared the yogurt and the toast, Kara relaxed. Her baby girl couldn’t be coming down with something and have this much of an appetite. With a sudden yearning that almost stole her breath, she wished her mother were there to offer advice. Mom was often on Kara’s mind but even more so since Nadia’s birth. “Wait until you have kids of your own,” her mother had often said. “Then you’ll understand.”
Kara’s lips curled. Oh, she understood. And oh, how she wished her mother were there to say I to
ld you so. She rubbed her chest, tried to soothe away the ache that thoughts of her mother always caused, only to be superseded by guilt when she remembered it wasn’t just about her. Her whole family and their friends—they’d all suffered the same loss. Her brothers had been so young and needed a lot of attention. Her father had been adrift and chose to move the family from state to state. Her sister was perhaps the one most deeply affected by their mother’s death.
Everyone was better today. Not over it, never that. But better. Anthony and Stefan had adjusted well. Both had finished grad school and were planning to start a business. Her dad finally settled in Florida after he found an old list her mother had written about her favorite places. Elena married Lucas, the man she was convinced was a sign from her mother. Everyone had gotten a sign from Mom.
Except her.
Kara used to tell herself it was because she didn’t need help the way Dad, the boys, and Elena did but that was a lie. She needed help badly. She needed a sign from Mom. It just seemed like Mom wasn’t in the sign-sending business anymore.
The last sign she’d sent was Lucas, though it had taken Kara ages to convince her sister Lucas wasn’t punishment for the fight she and Mom had had the night before her death. Wait, no. That wasn’t quite right. The last sign Mom had sent was her room number at the hospital, the day Nadia was born. Six-eighteen. Her mother’s birthday. When Elena noticed that, that was when she finally believed that Lucas was a sign of forgiveness and not punishment.
With a pang of guilt, Kara lunged for her cell phone and checked the date.
Today was June eighteenth.
“Okay, Milk Dud. We’re going to visit Nana in the park.” They hadn’t been to the September 11th Memorial since December, when Elena and Lucas had gotten married in an intimate evening ceremony.
With a plan in place, Kara put Nadia down for her morning nap and then pulled on jeans and a T-shirt. She packed a full bag, hung it on the stroller handle and just in case, added Nadia’s favorite blanket and bear. She checked her email and phone messages but there was still nothing from Ronald T. Saxon. Kara sighed and glanced at the time. Nadia would likely sleep for at least a half hour more so she started doing some research on the man. Old money, inherited since his grandfather had opened the first Saxony House department store. Kara had never shopped there—it was by appointment only. She added a visit to her mental to-do list.
Ronald T. was a dabbler, she noticed. He’d owned an airline—briefly—and a few casinos. He’d recently modified Saxony House operations to offer sales of last season’s couture to the general public. The events were always well-attended. Kara supposed nobody cared they were wearing last year’s styles. By the time Nadia stirred forty minutes later, Kara had filled pages of a lined pad with notes and questions for her new client.
She quickly changed Nadia’s diaper, strapped her into her stroller and left the apartment, her coffee mug in the stroller’s cup holder. They walked first to the library on Murray Street, where there was Toddler Time. Nadia loved stories and Kara checked out two books to read at bedtime. It was just before noon when they passed a department store. Stifling a yawn, Kara decided to pop in for a quick look for Jade’s bridal shower gift.
“Gah.” Nadia pointed at an adorable top.
“Yes, that is cute, isn’t it?” Kara responded, but kept walking. The top was a beautiful shade of green and suddenly, the rude paramedic in yesterday’s CPR class popped into her head. Yes, the man was handsome, she had to give him that much. He was tall, muscular and had beautiful eyes the color of sea water—
Ah. That’s why he was in her head. The color of that blouse reminded her.
She shook her head, amused by the way her thoughts leaped these days, and turned into Accessories. She had no time for men right now and even if she did, she’d choose one she at least liked.
She examined the purses and wallets and tote bags and suddenly laughed. Where was her brain? Purses and wallets were not bridal shower gifts. Undaunted, she headed down another aisle, but nothing sang Perfect to her. With a sigh, she took out her cell phone and tapped Sabrina’s entry.
“Hi, Kara. What’s up?”
“Help!”
“Uh oh. Shopping?”
“How did you guess?”
“Because I’m doing the same thing and was just about to call you.”
The two women laughed. “I do have one idea,” Bree began. “Jade’s been saying for ages how she wants a real home office. What if we all coordinated and got her—”
“Stuff for her office? That’s brilliant!” Kara grinned just as Nadia squirmed and squealed in her stroller. She unzipped her bag, pulled out the sippy cup and handed it to her happy baby. Nadia settled down. Kara pushed the stroller to the rear of the store. “Okay. Bulletin boards. Memo cubes. Oooo, organizers. Desk sets.”
“Oh, I like that idea,” Bree cut in. “Send me a picture.”
Baby Nadia drained her sippy cup. “Ma.”
“In a minute, baby.” Kara picked up one of the blotter sets. “I found one that’s beautiful. Blotter, pencil cup, note cube, and a tissue box cover in a gorgeous blue print. Hold on, I’ll send you an image.” Kara tapped her phone, snagged the image and sent it off to Bree.
Nadia threw her cup out of the stroller just as Bree exclaimed, “Oh, I love this! But what’s that giant letter on the right of the frame?”
Kara stepped around the baby’s stroller. “Ooo, they’re paperweights. Initial paperweights. Should I get her one for her first name or her last?”
“The new last name, definitely,” Bree decided. Kara crouched down, found an S and hefted it up. “Okay. Got an S. I’m going to grab the blotter set, too. How about you?”
“I know this is a long shot, but I saw a gorgeous vintage desk that will go perfectly in that room, right under the window. What if we all kick in? I’ll call Cass.”
“And I’ll call Elena.”
“Perfect! The blue of the fabric on that blotter is going to look amazing.”
“This is a great idea, Bree—”
Kara couldn’t speak when she stepped back in front of the stroller. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The paperweight slid from her fingers, crashed to the floor.
She crumbled after it.
The stroller was empty.
Chapter Three
Reid strolled down the street, enjoying the warm sun and air. It galled him to spend his unexpected day off shopping, but he’d given Gene his word he’d try to make a nice impression on his girlfriend’s cousin. Even though he wasn’t all that into double dating, he’d show up and give it his best shot. And that meant a shirt that fit well, didn’t have any missing buttons or advertising logos or catsup stains. His sisters were always going on about his hazel green eyes, said he should play them up, so he was on a mission to find a decent green shirt. He shrugged. Eyes were eyes. Didn’t much matter what color they were.
Thinking about eyes suddenly put that pretty blond back in his brain. The way she’d told off the three rude women in his class, eyes blazing. Kara Larsen was her name, according to her registration form. She was a wonder. He loved that she’d taken his class seriously. He loved the way she’d looked, the way she’d dressed, even the way she’d spoken.
Stop. He told himself.
There could be nothing with her. She was a mother.
That baby. Big blue eyes, honey-colored curls—she looked so much like Erin, he had a brief moment of terror that it was Erin and that he’d fallen into some kind of nightmare.
Jaw clenched, he forced himself to regroup and move on. With any luck, Vickie’s cousin from Atlanta would enjoy his company. He pulled open the door to TJ Maxx, determined to find a shirt that might make his sisters happy.
Inside the store, he made his way to the men’s department, picked through the shirts. Button down, polo or T-shirt? He had no damn clue. With a sigh, he stepped back, ran a hand over his head and froze.
There, at the end of the shoe display, stood a baby.<
br />
“Erin.”
He pressed a fist to the hole in his gut.
The baby squealed and took off at a waddling run, waving a plastic cup with a lid on it. He chased her, caught up to her seconds before she reached the escalator. His heart damn near stopped at the thought of escalators and those curls. He scooped her up into arms that felt like two strands of spaghetti and just stared at her.
It was the same baby from the CPR class. Where was her mother? Where the hell was her mother?
“Ma,” the tiny human said, thumping his chest with a fat little hand.
“Good question.” He found his voice and with it, his temper. Mouth tight, he strode through the store, spotted the pretty blond from his class taking snapshots of desk accessories, for God’s sake. Her stroller was parked two feet away. Just as he was about to call out, she noticed the empty carriage. Her face lost all its color and everything in her hands slid to the floor.
“NADIA!”
Her eardrum-shattering scream bounced off all the walls in the store. People stopped and stared. A security guard ran toward her just as she fell to her knees. Reid crossed the aisles, the baby rubbing her hand on the bit of stubble on his cheeks. “Hey! Miss Larsen!”
The woman was hysterical.
“Ma!” The baby in his arms shouted and that got her attention.
“Nadia? Oh, God. Oh, my God!” She scrambled to her feet, ran toward him and snatched the baby from his arms, pressing kisses to her face. “Thank you, thank you. Oh, God! I thought she was taken, kidnapped, murdered—”
“Stop,” he snapped out the order that had mother and child blinking up at him in shock. “She wasn’t taken or kidnapped or murdered. She was toddling along by men’s shoes, completely unsupervised while you’re over here chatting on your friggin’ cell phone! Do you have any idea what could have happened to her?”