His Badge, Her Baby...Their Family?

by Stella Bagwell

  He moved farther into the room and Geena noticed he was dressed the same way he’d been on the other occasions he’d visited her room. A pale blue dress shirt was tucked into a pair of dark blue jeans. Brown cowboy boots that appeared to be made of lizard or some other exotic skin matched the wide belt fastened around his lean waist. She supposed being a detective allowed him to wear street clothes on the job, but he certainly wouldn’t have any trouble filling out a uniform if one was required, she thought.

  “I’ve spoken with Dr. Merrick. He’s says you’re ready to leave the hospital. I wish I could tell you that we’ve located your family and they’re coming to pick you up. Unfortunately, that hasn’t happened yet.”

  Suddenly the isolation and uncertainty she’d been feeling swamped her, and not wanting him to see the desperation on her face, she quickly turned toward the bed and the small bag of items Marcella had kindly given her.

  “Oh. I was hoping you had good news. But it will come. I’m not giving up. And staying in a shelter won’t be so bad. Until I have the baby and then—well, I hope by then I’ll be able to take him or her home—to my real home.”

  “I’m going to do my best to see that happens,” he said. “Besides, you might get your memory back long before the baby comes.”

  Bending her head, she trailed fingertips over the cloth tote bag. Inside it was everything she possessed, and she only had those things because a nurse was kind enough to give them to her. At the moment the reality of the future facing her was overwhelming.

  “Believe me,” she said quietly, “I’m praying for that.”

  She heard his footsteps approach her from behind her, but she didn’t turn to face him. Tears were burning her eyes and she didn’t want him to think she was breaking apart.

  “If you’re ready to go, you should probably ring for the nurse. I’m sure you’ll have to leave the building in a wheelchair.”

  Blinking her misty eyes, she turned to him. “I can’t go until someone from social services comes to collect me.”

  He shook his head. “Dr. Merrick must have gotten busy. Otherwise, he would’ve told you that your plans have been changed. You’re not going to a shelter. You’re coming home with me.”

  Her mouth fell open. “You! I don’t understand. If this is some sort of crude joke, it’s not funny.”

  His nostrils flared, and Geena found her gaze slipping to the hard line of his lips. No doubt she’d kissed those lips many times, and she imagined they’d transported her to heaven and back. But that was years ago, and for some reason the kissing between them had stopped. Along with everything else. Now she was supposed to move into his home as though he was nothing more than a Good Samaritan? It was ludicrous!

  “This is hardly a time to be joking,” he said flatly. “You need a place to stay, and I have an extra room at my house.”

  “But I don’t know you!”

  “You don’t know the people at the shelter, either. Or anyone else, for that matter. Don’t you think you’d feel safer staying in the home of a law officer rather than a public shelter?”

  Put like that, she could hardly argue. And why would she want to? At least he was a familiar face. The fact that he’d once been her husband had nothing to do with the situation now, she reasoned with herself.

  “Yes, I would feel safer. And it would be nice to have a bit of privacy. Uh—what about your family? Will they mind sharing their home for a few days?”

  Stepping away from her, he picked up the call button lying on the pillow and pressed it.

  “I don’t have a family. It’s just me. And since I don’t have much down time, you’ll have the house mostly to yourself.”

  Totally surprised by this information, her thoughts began to dart in all directions. If he had no family that meant the two of them would be alone! That was definitely going to be awkward. But given her predicament, she could hardly make a fuss about anything.

  “You don’t have a wife?”

  He slanted her a wry smile. “You’re the only wife I’ve ever had.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t know why, but his revelation jolted her. “I—uh—I’ll go finish getting ready,” she told him, then made a desperate rush toward the bathroom.

  After she shut the door on the small, utilitarian room, Geena splashed cold water on her hot face, then reached for a comb she’d left lying on the edge of the sink. As she mindlessly tugged it through the waves of her blond hair, she ordered herself to compose her rattled emotions.

  This fix you’re in isn’t going to be resolved overnight, Geena. Vince Parcell is merely trying to help you. The fact that you were his wife means nothing to him now. So get over this silly notion that he’d like to rekindle your romance. He doesn’t want anything from you. The only thing he wants is to find the man you belong to and hand you over.

  Gripping the comb, she stepped back from the sink and stared at her image. Was there a man out there somewhere who loved her, who was searching for her and praying for her safe return? When the paramedics had found her near the burning car, she’d not been wearing a wedding ring. And from the looks of her finger, it had been bare even before the accident.

  But the lack of a ring wasn’t the reason she had doubts about a man. There was something deep within her that kept saying she was a woman alone. And that she’d been on her own for a long time. So how did the baby happen? A one-night stand? A visit to a fertility clinic?

  The questions were pounding at her temples when she suddenly heard the sound of Vince and a nurse talking outside the bathroom door.

  It was time to go. With Vince.

  Resting a hand on her belly, she whispered, “Don’t worry, my baby. Even though Vince isn’t your daddy, I believe he’ll step up to the plate until we can find your real daddy.”

  *

  Ten minutes later, Vince stowed Geena’s one simple bag in the backseat of the SUV and helped her into the passenger seat. As she strapped herself in, he noticed her attention go to the police radio fastened to the dash and the low, intermittent crackle of a dispatcher’s voice. This was his job, his life. And something she’d never wanted to be a part of.

  Trying to push the dark memories from his thoughts, Vince took his place behind the wheel, and after the nurse bid them farewell, he reached to the backseat for the bouquet of mixed flowers he’d picked up on the way to the hospital.

  “Maybe these flowers will help take the forlorn look off your face,” Vince told her.

  Her eyes wide, she stared at the bouquet.

  “Flowers! For me?”

  “For you. I’m glad you’re well enough to leave the hospital, Geena.”

  A smile started in her eyes, then quickly spread to her lips. The happy expression lit up her face, and Vince was shocked at how good it made him feel to think he’d pleased her. That he’d given her even a tiny spark of pleasure.

  Accepting the flowers, she bent her nose to the colorful blossoms. “How beautiful. Thank you, Vince. I—”

  Her voice abruptly ended on a choked note and Vince realized she was crying. And though he knew her emotionally wrought state was no fault of his, her tears tortured him in a way he didn’t understand.

  “Geena, it’s going to be okay.”

  She sniffed, then gave him a wobbly smile. “I’m sorry about the waterworks. It’s just that I—I have the feeling that it’s been a long time since anyone gave me flowers. Thank you, Vince.”

  The need to assure her, to comfort and protect her hit him all at once, leaving a strange, hollow ache in the middle of his chest. Damn Evan and his idea for the flowers! He should’ve had better sense than to follow his partner’s advice. Now Geena was in tears and he was feeling like a helpless sap.

  But she was clutching the bouquet like it was a precious possession. Which was understandable, he thought bleakly. At this moment, the only things that belonged to her were the baby she was carrying, the items in her tote bag and the flowers.

  Clearing his throat, he put the vehicle in gear
and pulled away from the curb. “I’d better get you on home. I have work waiting on me back at the office.”

  He pulled onto the nearest street and mixed in with the traffic. When they finally reached the main thoroughfare, he noticed Geena was looking around her with interest.

  “Does any of this look familiar?” he asked.

  “No. Everything looks new to me.” She glanced over at him. “You said we used to live in Reno. Did we ever drive down here for any reason?”

  “Not here. We drove over to Virginia City a couple of times, but that’s the closest we got to Carson City.”

  “Hmm. Maybe this town looks new to me because I’ve never seen it before. That’s possible, isn’t it?”

  “Very possible,” he agreed, then suddenly remembered the piece of jewelry he’d found at the accident site. While keeping his eye on the traffic, he fished the dainty necklace from his shirt pocket and handed it over to her. “Here. I found this dangling from a limb of sagebrush.”

  “That’s mine! That’s my cross!”

  Her unexpected reaction had him glancing across the console to see her gripping the piece of silver.

  “You recognize it?”

  “Of course I do! I’ve had it for years!”

  Nearly eleven, Vince could have told her. Ever since he’d given it to her for their first Easter together. But he held that information back. He didn’t want her to think there was some special reason she’d been wearing the necklace or why it was the only single thing she remembered, other than her age. He didn’t want to think it himself.

  “That’s good. That means your concussion is healing. Are you still having headaches?”

  She lifted a hand to her left temple. “There’s still a bump and a cut, but the headaches seem to be gone.”

  From the corner of his eye, he could see her studying the necklace dangling from her fingers. A confused frown marred her forehead, and he realized she was straining to remember the significance of the little cross.

  In a soft, thoughtful voice, she asked, “I wonder why I remember this necklace being mine. What does it mean?”

  He stared straight ahead, and a feeling of tremendous loss washed over him.

  “Probably that you like silver. And that you have a deep faith.”

  “Hmm. Maybe so.” She fastened the chain at the back of her neck, then adjusted the cross in the hollow of her throat. “There. I have a piece of my old life back. And it tells me everything is going to get better.”

  Better for her. Yes, Vince wanted that very much. As for himself, nothing could get better. He was stuck in a past that she’d totally forgotten.

  Chapter Four

  The next day Geena was sitting on the couch, staring at a credit card and set of truck keys lying on the coffee table. Before he’d gone to work this morning, Vince had left the items there with the suggestion she drive downtown and do some shopping for herself. When he’d asked if she remembered how to drive, she’d assured him she’d not forgotten. She’d even promised to be extra safe while driving his truck.

  Yet, two hours later, she’d not made a move to pick up the card or the keys. Instead, she’d turned the television on and off, gone outside and walked around the house three times, then tried to read a magazine she’d found lying on the bar in the kitchen. But the subject of lawmen and the tactical gear they used on the job was hardly her taste of entertainment.

  No doubt when Vince returned home, he’d want to know why she hadn’t accepted his offer to replenish some of her lost things. Especially when she desperately needed a change of clothes and some toiletries. But something about spending his money made her feel like a leech.

  With a mental groan, she started to reach for the television remote when the sound of the doorbell caused her to pause.

  Since Vince worked during the day, she didn’t expect he had people stopping by just to say hello. More than likely someone was going door to door trying to sell or promote something.

  Leaving the couch, she walked out to the foyer and, for the sake of caution, peered into the peephole on the door.

  “Marcella!” She practically yelled the nurse’s name as she quickly jerked open the door. “Oh, I’m so happy to see you! Please, come in. What in the world are you doing here? I’m not supposed to need a nurse’s care!”

  Laughing, the red-haired nurse stepped into the foyer. She was carrying a large denim tote in one hand and a smaller canvas bag in the other. “I’m not here as a nurse. I’m here as a friend.”

  Geena gave the woman a grateful hug. “This is so nice of you. But how did you know where to find me? When I was discharged from the hospital yesterday, you’d already gone home.”

  Marcella smiled coyly. “I called Detective Parcell. He explained that you were here and gave me the address.”

  Geena didn’t know why she was suddenly blushing. The only reason she was at her ex-husband’s house was to avoid going to a public shelter.

  “Well, I hope you can stay for a bit. Please, come into the living room and make yourself comfortable,” she invited.

  Marcella walked ahead of her and once they reached the living area, she placed the bags on the floor next to a green suede couch, then took a seat at one end. Geena eased down on the opposite end and squared around so that she was facing her new found friend.

  “What a nice place. Very homey for a bachelor,” the nurse commented as she glanced around at the comfortable furnishings. “Art on the wall, colorful throw rugs exactly where they should be and no half-eaten food or beer bottles lying about. Detective Parcell must be special.”

  “Well, I’d say so. But not because his house is clean and nice, but because he offered to share it with me. At least, until I can get everything with my identity straightened out.”

  “Hmm. You’re right. Not many men would be so generous with their ex-wives.”

  Shortly after Vince had explained her name was Geena and they’d once been married, she’d shared the information with Marcella. Mainly because she felt like the special nurse deserved to know what was going on.

  “I think he feels obligated,” Geena said glumly. “Because I have no one else.”

  “Could be. But I’d like to think he’s doing it because he wants to help you.”

  Sighing, Geena motioned to the credit card and keys lying on the coffee table. “He left those this morning and told me to go shopping for whatever I needed.”

  Marcella regarded her with a meaningful glance. “That is generous. So what did you buy?”

  “Nothing! And I’m not going to. Just giving me a roof over my head is more than enough. I don’t want to take advantage of his generosity. Especially when it might be a while before I can pay him back.”

  Smiling drily, Marcella shook her head, and Geena couldn’t help but notice how pretty the woman looked with her long red hair hanging against her back and a touch of makeup brightening her face. Her slender figure was perfect, which only made Geena feel even more like a walrus.

  “Why are you smiling like that?” Geena asked.

  “I was just thinking about my ex-husband. We’ve been divorced for several years now, but it still doesn’t bother him to ask me for money. Among other things he shouldn’t be asking for. I’d fall over in a dead faint if he ever offered to give me or the boys anything.”

  “Doesn’t he give you child support?”

  “Only to our son, Harry. I adopted my youngest son, Peter, after we divorced.”

  “Wow. You must be a brave, confident woman to take on another child on your own,” Geena said with renewed admiration for her friend. “My child isn’t even born yet and I’m wondering how I’m going to take care of him or her.”

  A humble smile touched Marcella’s face. “I first saw Peter when he was brought to the ER. At that time he was in a bad situation of neglect. I took one look at him and fell in love. It took some legal doings to adopt him. But I managed. Now it’s a privilege to be his mother. When your little one comes, you’ll feel that way,
too.”

  She rested a hand on the top of her extended stomach. “I already love my baby fiercely. But Marcella, I’m not even sure I have a home. I could’ve been living out of my car!”

  The other woman suddenly chuckled. “Well, it’s a cinch you can’t do that anymore. It’s a pile of ashes now!”

  The absurdity of it all had Geena chuckling along with her friend. “I might as well laugh, hadn’t I? Because crying won’t do a darned bit of good. Except make my face puffier than it already is.”

  “You shouldn’t worry about whether you have a home, your torched car, or even having puffy cheeks. Everything will work out. Especially with Detective Parcell helping you.”

  Restless now, Geena rose to her feet and walked over to a wooden console table situated in front of a picture window. Several framed photos, along with various ribbons and medals pertaining to school and work were on display. Except for one blown-up snapshot of Vince and his partner, Evan Calhoun, Geena didn’t recognize any of the people in the pictures, and she could only wonder if some of them might have been her relatives back when she and Vince had been married.

  “Marcella, from what you’ve told me, you’ve lived here all your life. Do you know much about Vince?”

  “Not really. Just from what I read in crime articles in the newspaper. I do know he and his partner have solved quite a few important cases. One involved a murder connected to a cattle-rustling ring.”

  “Hmm. Sounds like he’s very good at his job.” She picked up a photo of a man dressed in some sort of uniform and closely studied his smiling face. Although she didn’t recognize the dark-haired man, she felt some sort of connection, as though something about him had once been important to her. But what? And why it should matter now didn’t make sense.

  “I’d say very good is probably understating it,” Marcella said. “My best friend, Lilly, is married to Rafe Calhoun. He’s Detective Calhoun’s brother. They’re very rich, the Calhouns. They own one of the largest ranches in Nevada. Plus they own a lot of other holdings in the mining and oil business. As for Vince, I’ve not heard Lilly say much about him. Other than the incident that occurred eighteen months ago on Christmas Eve. That’s when Vince was critically wounded on the job. Everyone in the family was devastated. You see, it was touch and go as to whether Vince was going to live or die. And the two men are like brothers.”