I'm Having Your Baby?!

by Linda Turner

  Emotion clutching his heart, the need to touch her almost more than he could bear, he gently swept her hair back from her face with fingers that were still far from steady. Close, he thought, shaken. They’d come so damn close to not reaching her in time. With backup behind him, Sam had broken every speed limit, but then as they neared the Driscoe Ranch, he’d had to cut the sirens and slow to a crawl as they made their way through the cedars to the creek at the back of the property. To do anything else would have tipped Annie’s kidnapper off to their presence and probably have gotten her killed, but the silent, careful drive through the ranch had taken ten years off Joe’s life.

  Then, as they’d approached on foot the site where Freeman’s body had been found, he’d seen Annie running through the trees like a wild woman, falling, and a bastard with a gun take aim. At her, the woman he loved more than life itself. His heart had literally stopped in his chest.

  He could have lost her right there. Just that easily, he could have lost her forever. Sick to his soul at the thought, he couldn’t stop touching her and assuring himself that she was really all right. “It’s over, sweetheart. The son of a bitch is in custody and we all saw him try to kill you. Even if you never remember what he did to you that night in the parking garage, he’s going to jail. He’ll never come near you again.”

  Desperate to believe him, she stared up at him searchingly. Behind her, she heard Sam reading her tormentor his rights, but it was the rock-solid steadiness in Joe’s eyes and the feel of his hands on her that convinced her more than anything that the nightmare was finally over. She was safe.

  Terror drained from her in a rush. Light-headed, her knees threatening to buckle, she started to tremble and couldn’t stop. She felt Joe stiffen in alarm and tried to tell him she was okay, but her throat was hot and tight. “Oh, J-Joe,” she choked, and threw herself into his arms. Bursting into tears, she clung to him as if she would never let him go.

  Later, she never knew how long she cried. It seemed like forever. Her eyes burning, her throat raw, she cried because she was safe, because nothing could hurt her while Joe had his arms around her, because she’d been so afraid that she would die and he would never know what had happened to her. But most of all, she cried because she remembered. And it hurt.

  Sweeping her up off her feet, Joe carried her to Sam’s car, murmuring to her all the time. “Go ahead and cry, sweetheart. That’s it, let it all out. After everything you’ve been through, you’re entitled.”

  “I remember,” she cried, pressing her face against his throat, soaking his shirt. “I finally remembered.”

  Joe’s heart constricted, missed a beat, then stumbled back into rhythm. Instinctively, his arms tightened around her, denial instantly rising to his tongue. He knew she needed to remember—he wanted her to—but not yet, dammit! Not until they’d had more time together. Not until he’d won her love back and she’d at least give him a chance to work things out between them before she walked out on him again.

  “We’ll deal with that later, honey,” he said, shushing her. “Right now it’s more important that you’re okay. Did he hurt you? You’re white as a sheet. Maybe we should have a doctor take a look at you…”

  She sniffed, wiping at her cheeks. “No, I’m all right. Really. I’m just a little shaky. I’ll be fine once I get away from here.”

  The sound of a siren drowned out the last of her words, and they both looked up in time to see an ambulance race through the cedars and brake to a stop in a cloud of dust. A shout from Sam drew the paramedics, who burst from the vehicle to the spot where his men had the suspect handcuffed and surrounded. Sitting on a fallen log, his mouth twisted with bitterness and blood dripping from the makeshift bandage wrapped around his forearm, the wounded man stared stonily ahead, ignoring them all.

  Leaving the suspect to the uniformed officers and the paramedics, Sam strode over to Annie and Joe, his eyes narrowing as they took in Annie’s pale face and tearful eyes. “What did he do to you, Annie? If he so much as laid a finger on you, I need to know.”

  “Nothing…this time,” she assured him. “But on the night Freeman was killed, he tried to rape me.”

  The scowl darkening his brow didn’t ease so much as a fraction, but there was a definite glint of satisfaction in his eyes. “You got your memory back.”

  She nodded. “After Joe left to check out the fire at the restaurant, I got a call that he’d been hurt in the fire—”

  “What?!”

  “That’s how he got me out of the apartment,” she told Joe, wincing at his roar. “I thought his voice sounded familiar, but as soon as he said you were hurt, all I could think about was getting to you. I rushed out of the house, and there he was, waiting for me on the front porch. The second I saw him, it all just came rushing back.”

  Her mouth flattening into a grim line, she turned hard eyes on the man who had put her through hell twice. “He and Freeman were partners and were supposed to skip the country that night that I came across them by accident in the Transit Tower parking garage.”

  Remembering, she felt her blood run cold and buried her hands in her jacket pockets. “When Mr. Larkin didn’t make our appointment at eight, I figured he’d had some trouble coming in from Houston. So I waited another hour just in case, then headed back to the parking garage.”

  Disgust, self-directed, twisted her mouth. “I should have been paying more attention—I know that now—but I was ticked that Larkin hadn’t had the courtesy to at least call me and cancel, and I didn’t even notice how deserted the garage was. Then when I was almost back to my car, I heard Freeman and that scumbag over there arguing about how they were going to split up the money. That’s when I realized they’d robbed the bank. Freeman claimed he’d taken most of the risk, so he should get a larger percentage. That’s when he shot him,” she said, distaste twisting her mouth as she stared at her kidnapper. “He didn’t even try to reason with him. He just pulled out a gun and shot him.”

  Her eyes stark with the horror of it, she blinked up at Joe and Sam. “It all happened so fast, I didn’t have time to try to hide. Not that it would have done any good,” she added. “There were only two cars on that floor—my Volvo and the van—so there was no place to hide. I don’t remember making any noise, but the next thing I knew, he was holding the gun on me.”

  “He made you help him load the body in the van, didn’t he?” Sam guessed. “That’s why you had blood all over your clothes.”

  She nodded, shivering. “He told me if I didn’t do what he said, he was going to kill me right there. I had no reason not to believe him.”

  Joe swore long and hard. “Goddamn his filthy soul, I hope he bums in hell.”

  “After the body was in the van, he forced me in the back with it and drove out here,” she continued. “The whole time I dug the grave, he was holding the gun on me, just daring me to give him a reason to pull the trigger.” Her voice cracked then, and she had to swallow before she could continue. “I kept telling myself that if I just went along with him, he wouldn’t hurt me. But then after I finished burying the body, he…h-he grabbed me a-and—”

  “That’s enough,” Joe growled. “Dammit, Sam, she’s pregnant! She’s been through enough. I’m taking her home!”

  She would have liked nothing better, but the truth had been locked up inside her for too long, and she had to get it out. “No, I have to finish this now,” she insisted. Lifting her chin, her eyes met his unflinchingly. “He didn’t rape me, but it wasn’t from lack of trying. When I fought him, he told me he was going to put a bullet in my head when he was through with me, then bury me on top of Freeman. That’s when I hit him in the head with the shovel.”

  “You should have aimed a hell of a lot lower and cut him off at the…knees,” Sam amended grimly. “Knocking him senseless was a good start, though. So how’d you get home?”

  “I walked,” she said simply. “All night.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?” Joe demanded. “You know I wou
ld have come for you.”

  He didn’t so much as mention their separation, but she heard the hurt in his voice and knew what he was really asking. Even though they’d been separated, surely she must have known that she could call on him for help. Why hadn’t she?

  “I was terrified.” Just thinking about it again made her want to fold in on herself and cry. “There are some houses a couple of miles down the road, but I was so scared, I wouldn’t go anywhere near them. All I could think about was getting away. And getting home.”

  To him.

  At the time, she hadn’t realized that she was instinctively making her way to him. Her brain had been on automatic pilot; her feet had had a will of their own. But deep down inside, her heart had led her to the one person who could make her feel safe.

  “I was so afraid that he was following me that I didn’t even turn on a light once I got in the apartment,” she continued huskily. “I took a shower in the dark, then went to bed. When I woke up in the morning, I didn’t remember anything.”

  “Did he say anything about the money?” Sam asked. “Freeman took half a million from the bank. That’s not exactly the kind of change you carry around in your pocket.”

  “They packaged it up and sent it to an apartment they’d already rented in Acapulco,” she said promptly. “The son of a bitch was real smug about that, especially after he killed Freeman. The whole time he made me dig the grave, he kept bragging about how he’d get to keep all the cash now. All he had to do was fly down there and pick it up, and he could live the rest of his life like a king.”

  Sam snorted. “Now I guess he’s going to have to eat those words, huh? Idiot. If he’d run for the border instead of trying to scare you to death, he might have gotten away with it. Now, all he’s got to look forward to is a nice long stretch in Huntsville with the rest of the pond scum.” Relieved, he shot Annie a broad grin. “You just made my job a whole lot simpler. If he was stupid enough to put that money in the mail, then we can bring the feds in. They can find out where he sent it, and when, and get it back.”

  Turning to Joe, he tossed him his keys. “Take her home, man. I’m going to be tied up at the station for a while, so you might as well take the Jeep. If I need a ride later, I’ll give you a call.”

  Joe didn’t have to be told twice. Bundling her into the Wagoneer, he climbed behind the wheel and headed home. He tried to tell himself they could relax now—it was over—but he only had to look at Annie’s face to know that it was a long way from that. Pale and silent, her eyes not quite meeting his, she sat beside him, well within touching distance but somehow out of his reach.

  Had she remembered the baby wasn’t his? he wondered, only to immediately reject the idea. No! She was his and so was the baby. He loved her, dammit, and somehow he had to find a way to convince her that they belonged together, no matter what. Because he wasn’t going to lose her. Not after they’d just found each other again. Somehow they’d find a way to work it out. But first he had to show her how much she meant to him.

  He hadn’t forgotten how she’d reacted when she’d first started to remember the nightmare she’d been through, and the second they got back to the apartment, he walked her straight back to their bathroom and turned on the shower. Without a word, he turned back to her and reached for the hem of her sweater.

  “Joe!”

  “Shh,” he soothed. “I smell like smoke and I know you want to get the feel of that bastard’s hands off you. Let me take care of you. We’ll both feel better after a nice hot shower.”

  He needed to pamper her, to wrap her close and take the shadows from her eyes. They would have to talk—he knew that as well as she did—but not yet. Not until he had a chance to touch her and hold her. If he lost her after that, at least he would have these minutes—and the last few weeks—to remember.

  Slowly, piece by piece, he gently peeled her clothes from her, then tore off his own and urged her under the warm spray of the shower. In the time it took to draw in a sharp breath, they were both soaked. Without a word, he reached for the soap and worked up a thick, cleansing lather between his hands.

  Steam swirled around them, encasing them in a world of misty heat and tenderness. The pounding of his heart slow and heavy in his chest, he washed her gently, running his hands over her long after the soap had slid from her body and washed down the drain. A sigh rippled through her; her breathing changed ever so slightly—he heard it, felt it. And still he stroked her, warming her, heating her until her eyes grew languorous, the muscles of her neck weak. With a soundless moan, she leaned her head against his chest and groaned.

  A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “That’s it, baby,” he rasped softly. “Just relax.”

  He washed her all over, until she was flushed and boneless and came apart in his hands. Her knees had long since deserted her, and with a murmur for her to hang on, he shut off the water, propped her against the wall, and reached for a towel. His body hard and tight with need, he dried them both, then scooped her up and carried her to bed.

  He ached to make love to her, but he only settled her against him and pulled the covers over them. When he had her where he wanted her, her head against his shoulder, her body snug against his, he sighed. Now, with nothing between them, they could talk.

  “Before you say anything,” he said quietly, “I want you to know that I love you. I fell in love with you the first time I ever laid eyes on you and that hasn’t changed. It never will. The whole time you were gone, I was miserable.”

  “Joe—”

  Taking the hand she pressed to his mouth to stop his confession, he dropped a kiss to her knuckles, then trapped her fingers against his heart and held them there. “No, I need to say this,” he insisted. “Now that you’ve got your memory back, you know who the baby’s father is. If you were so unhappy when you left me that you turned to somebody else like you threatened to, then I’ve got to take the blame for part of that. I should have listened to you.”

  Tears pooled in her eyes. “Oh, Joe, there wasn’t another man,” she was finally able to tell him without a doubt. “I just said that to shake you up. I was pregnant when I left you.”

  The announcement fell between them like a lit firecracker. She saw shock, then hurt flare in his eyes and would have given anything to take the admission back, but she couldn’t. For too long, they had avoided talking to each other about anything important, and on the rare occasions when they hadn’t been able to sidestep a discussion about the pitiful state of their marriage, they’d done nothing but argue and cast blame. But now they had a baby to consider, and it had to stop.

  “You knew you were pregnant when you left?”

  “That’s why I left.”

  He took the news like a slap to the face, and she ached for him. God, they’d made each other so unhappy! “I didn’t know what else to do,” she confessed huskily. Scrambling up, the sheet pressed to her breasts, she sat facing him and tried to make him understand. “You weren’t ready to be a father—you kept finding excuses to put it off—but we were going to have a baby, anyway. All your time was wrapped up in the restaurant, and then when I found out you were going to open a second one without even discussing it with me, it just seemed like we were going in two different directions.”

  His shoulders propped against the headboard, he had to admit she was right. “That was my fault. I should have told you. I was going to, but I knew you’d hate the idea, and I kept putting it off, hoping to find the perfect time. But it just never came up. You were always so touchy about the time I spent working—”

  “Because you were spending seventy hours a week at the restaurant and I never saw you! I was afraid you were turning into my father right before my eyes, and I was turning into my mother. I could see myself raising our child alone while you made more and more money, and it scared me to death.”

  Still afraid of that, she said soberly, “I can count on the fingers of one hand the times my father did things with me and my mother when I was gro
wing up. For most of my childhood, he was a stranger to me. I didn‘t—I don’t—want that for our baby. So I left.” She tried to smile, but could only manage a weak grimace of pain. “Looking back now, I can see it was a stupid thing to do, but I thought I could shake you up and make you realize that I was more important to you than your restaurant. But you worked harder than ever while I was gone. I checked.”

  He didn’t deny it—he couldn’t. It was true. He’d spent every waking moment at the restaurant during the two months she was gone. And there’d been a lot of nights he’d slept on his office couch rather than go home to an empty apartment, an empty bed.

  “I couldn’t face this apartment without you,” he said bluntly. “So I buried myself in work. I had to or I would have come after you even though I promised to give you some space.”

  When she only looked at him, unconvinced, it was all he could do not to snatch her back into his arms. They’d always communicated better in bed than anywhere else, and all he had to do was hold her, kiss her, and they’d both forget that there’d ever been a cross word between them.

  But making love wouldn’t solve this problem. Their whole future lay in the balance, and unless he could find a way to convince her that he was nothing like her father, he was going to lose her. This time for good.

  Taking her hand, he rubbed his thumb in slow circles across her knuckles. “I understand your fears, honey, but put yourself in my shoes for a minute. You know what my childhood was like. While your daddy was devoting all his time to working, mine couldn’t keep a job. Half the time, birthdays and Christmas were just another day of the week. Oh, he always had an excuse, and according to him, it was never his fault. But it was, dammit!” he said resentfully. “He was just flat out irresponsible. I swore when I had a wife and kids, I would never do to them what my old man did to me and my mother. That’s why I worked like a fiend. It was never just about making money. You wanted a baby and so did I, but it was important to me to make sure we were financially secure first. Anything else would have been unacceptable.”