His Badge, Her Baby...Their Family?

by Stella Bagwell

  Geena’s fingers tightened around the photo. Just hearing Vince had been critically wounded on the job was a jolt to her senses. He was so strong and fit and confident. But that was on the outside, she thought. Beneath all that masculine swagger he must be wearing scars. It was very hard for her to imagine.

  “Oh, my, that’s like something you hear about on the news or see in the movies. It’s not something you imagine happening to someone close to you. And on Christmas Eve—how awful for Vince and his loved ones.”

  “Actually, it makes me wonder why he’s still on the force,” Marcella commented. “After nearly being killed, you’d think he’d want to choose a safer job.”

  Geena moved back to the couch. “What little I’ve been around Vince, I can see he wouldn’t be a man to quit on anything. Except our marriage, I suppose.” As soon as the words were out, she sighed and rolled her eyes. “Now why did I say that? I have no idea what happened with us. And it hardly matters now. I have a life somewhere else, with someone else.”

  Marcella gave her a gentle smile. “Sure you do. The coming baby proves that much.” She reached for the totes she’d propped against the end of the couch. “Speaking of your baby, I gathered up a few things I thought you could probably use. Actually, most of it was sent to you by Lilly. She dug out some things she wore when she was carrying her last baby. And we both put in some girly items you might enjoy. Come sit and look.”

  A few minutes ago Geena had been so happy to see Marcella at the door, she’d not taken much notice of what the woman carried into the house with her. Now as she eased down on the couch, she stared in amazement at the bulging totes.

  “All of that is for me?”

  Marcella laughed softly. “If you’re not going to use Detective Parcell’s credit card, then you’re certainly going to need them.”

  Feeling like Christmas had come early, Geena reached for the totes. “Come on. Let’s take them in the kitchen and I’ll look at everything while we have coffee.”

  “Sounds like a nice trade,” Marcella happily agreed.

  *

  Much later that evening, well after dark, Vince let himself into the house and was instantly struck by light and the smells of cooking food coming from the direction of the kitchen. For the six years he’d lived here, he’d always come home to an empty house. The reality of having Geena back in his life filled him with a strange, warm emotion he wanted to ignore. Yet as he strode toward the light and the delicious smell, the silly urge to smile kept tugging at the corners of his lips.

  When he stepped into the kitchen, Geena was sitting at the glass-topped table reading a hardback book. The moment she heard his footsteps on the tile, she looked up and smiled.

  “Well, hello,” she greeted. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Looks like you were distracted.”

  She closed the book and rose to her feet. “I went to the library this afternoon,” she explained. “And checked out several books that looked interesting. Hopefully I can get them read before the baby gets here. Or before I leave to go home.”

  Home. Where was her home? And what was waiting for her there? Vince wondered. A few days ago, he’d felt a desperate urge to find her family and quickly send her on her way. But now he was reluctant to think of her leaving. At least, not until he was certain she was going back to a home where she was loved and wanted. If that made him a sap, then so be it.

  “I’m glad you ventured out of the house. Did you have any trouble finding where to go around town?”

  She walked over and placed the book at the far end of the cabinet countertop. “No. I had company this morning, and she gave me general directions on where to find things.”

  He moved over to where she stood. “Company? Did someone from social services come by?”

  She frowned at him. “Why, no. Did you contact them?”

  He shook his head. “No. Then your visitor must have been Noelle, Evan’s wife,” he surmised.

  “I’d like to meet Noelle. But it wasn’t her. It was Marcella, the nurse.” She gestured downward to the magenta sweater and blue jeans she was wearing. “See, she brought me a whole pile of things to wear. She said they belonged to her friend Lilly Calhoun.”

  “Oh, yes, I forgot about Marcella calling and inquiring as to your whereabouts. I didn’t realize she was coming by to see you today.”

  A wide smile spread across Geena’s face, and Vince was glad to see her spirits were so high. The last year of their marriage, she’d mostly been depressed and constantly crying over things he couldn’t understand. This was definitely a different Geena, and he wondered if the passing years had changed her that much. Or had the concussion and resulting amnesia done something to her personality?

  “I’ll say one thing, the woman must be very generous. And all the clothes are practically like new. She even sent a couple of outfits for me to wear after the baby is born.”

  “So Lilly sent you some things,” Vince replied. “That was nice of her.”

  “She and Marcella have been so kind and thoughtful. And so have you, Vince. I only hope that someday I can repay all of you for everything you’re doing for me.”

  Feeling a bit uncomfortable with her gratitude, he cleared his throat and stepped around her. At the stove, he lifted the lid on a large stainless steel pot and discovered it was full of spaghetti. Next to it, in a smaller pot, a meaty sauce was gently simmering.

  “None of us expect to be repaid, Geena.”

  She followed him over to the stove. “I understand that. But it would make me feel good to give back.”

  He dropped the lid back onto the spaghetti, then looked at her. She’d pinned her hair atop her head and fastened it with a glittery clip. The silver cross he’d given her oh so many years ago was resting in the gentle hollow of her throat. Would she be wearing it, he wondered, if she knew exactly what it signified?

  Why wouldn’t she, Vince? She had the necklace with her when she’d wrecked her car. Apparently the fact that you gave it to her as a gift hasn’t stopped her from wearing it.

  Ignoring the voice in his head, he asked, “So did you use my credit card and get whatever you needed?”

  “No. After Marcella brought all this stuff, there wasn’t any need. Besides, I don’t want to spend your money. It wouldn’t be right.”

  “Why? You used to spend it.”

  Her lips parted, and as Vince looked at them, vivid memories of their taste and texture assaulted him. Kissing her had always sent his senses reeling, and he had the frightening feeling that if, for some crazy reason, his lips were to come in contact with hers, the magic would start all over again.

  “Oh. You say that like—was that a problem with us? I spent too much money?”

  He groaned. “No! On the contrary. You were always a frugal person. Why the hell would you ask that, anyway?”

  The dainty flare of her nostrils told him she was irked by his short response, but at the moment, he didn’t care. Her accidental appearance in Carson City had upset his whole life, and for the past few days he’d been living on little more than raw nerves.

  “Sorry,” she said in a clipped voice. “But my memory is blank. I’m desperate to know anything about myself—my past. That’s probably hard for you to understand, though.”

  A pent-up breath eased out of him. “Some things are best forgotten, Geena. You’re smart enough to understand that.”

  Her gaze made one slow search of his face before she walked to the end of the counter where she’d left her book. Deciding it was time to make a quick exit, Vince started out of the room, only to have her intercept him at the doorway.

  “Here,” she said as she thrust his credit card at him, “you’d better put this away where it belongs. Thanks for the offer. But it wasn’t needed.”

  The stilted tone of her voice cut him, and as he took the piece of plastic, he wondered why she was the one person in the world who could make him feel useless.

  “If you do need it, all you have
to do is ask,” he told her.

  She nodded, and he quickly slipped past her and out the door.

  In his bedroom, he switched on a lamp on the nightstand, then pulled off his jean jacket and tossed it onto the bed. He was about to unbuckle the shoulder holster carrying his weapon when a light tap on the door facing had him turning to see Geena standing just inside the room. The fact that she’d followed him caught him completely off guard, and for a moment he couldn’t get a word out.

  “Was there something else?” he finally asked.

  Linking her hands beneath the swell of her belly, she took several steps toward him. And suddenly the stilted conversation they’d had in the kitchen was forgotten. All he could think about was the plans they’d once made to have children together. After their sessions of lovemaking, he’d often rested his hand on her flat belly and imagined his child growing there. But that had been before she’d grown disenchanted with his job. Before she’d become weary of his long hours away from home.

  “I wanted to apologize,” she said.

  “There’s no reason for you to apologize.”

  She stepped closer, and Vince was certain the walls of the bedroom were narrowing down to the size of a tiny closet.

  “Yes, there is. I’ve been so busy thinking of myself and my situation that I’ve not stopped to consider what all of this is doing to you. My problems are disrupting your life. And I shouldn’t be adding to them with a bunch of questions that have no bearing on the present.”

  Feeling like a heel, though he wasn’t sure why, he removed the holster and weapon. After placing it safely in the top drawer of the nightstand, he pulled off the detective’s badge clipped to his belt and tossed it next to the base of the lamp.

  “Don’t worry about what this is doing to me. I have a tough hide. I’ll survive.”

  A wry smile slanted her lips. “Compared to being shot, I imagine fielding my questions is nothing but an annoyance.”

  A chill crept over him. “Who told you I was wounded?”

  “Marcella. She was telling me about the Calhoun family and somehow it just came up. Why? It’s not something you’ve tried to keep secret, is it?”

  “Not hardly. Details of the shootout were plastered in all the papers. Anyone who could read was aware that I’d been wounded.” Sighing, he turned his back to her and began to unbutton his shirt. “But I wish people would forget it. I’d certainly like to.”

  “Marcella said you very nearly died,” she said softly. “The memory must be terrifying.”

  “Most of that night is just a blur to me. Thinking about it doesn’t scare me. It makes me angry, because I should’ve used more protection when we approached the suspect’s house. I failed to see movement at the window. So I got shot up and my partner had to risk his life to pull me to safety. That’s not something I like to remember,” he said flatly.

  “I don’t know anything about the circumstances of that night, but I am certain of one thing, Vince. If the situation had been reversed, you wouldn’t have hesitated to risk your life to save your partner.”

  Bending his head, he wearily pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t expect her to understand the guilt he’d lived with for the past year and a half or how the tragic incident had shaken his confidence as a lawman. Yet even with a broken memory, she was seeing him as a brave man, and the notion was like a soothing balm to the jagged scars in his soul.

  “You’re right about that,” he murmured, then turned to face her. “Thank you, Geena.”

  For some reason, she moved even closer, and suddenly Vince could smell the sweet scent of her skin and hair, feel the warmth emanating from her body.

  “Thank me for what?” she asked softly.

  “For saying exactly what I needed to hear.”

  Confusion flickered in her eyes, and then with a slight shake of her head, she reached out and rested her palms against his chest. The contact stunned him, along with the searing heat that flowed from her fingers to his skin.

  “Something is happening to me, Vince.”

  The plaintive note in her voice, coupled with the beseeching look in her eyes, very nearly took his breath away. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t remember being your wife or anything about our marriage. Yet I feel a connection to you. I have a sense that I loved you very much. Tell me, Vince, is that right? Did we love each other?”

  “Oh, Geena, don’t—”

  His words halted as her hands moved outward until they were clutching each arm. “Please, Vince, I need to know. This confusion that’s going on inside me is torture.”

  “And you think having you this close to me isn’t tearing me to shreds?” Without waiting for her response or weighing the consequences of his actions, he pulled her into his arms and tucked the top of her head beneath his chin. “Yes! You loved me very much. And I loved you.”

  With a sound that was something between a sob and a groan, she tilted her head in order to look up at him. Vince’s gaze instantly fell to her lips, and that was all it took for his common sense to fly out the door.

  Before he realized what he was about to do, his lips were settling over hers while his arms were drawing her forward until the fullness of her breasts crushed against his chest and the roundness of her belly bumped against his navel.

  Kissing Geena was everything it used to be and a whole lot more. He couldn’t remember her lips being this soft or plush, or the taste of her reminding him of wild honey. Sweet sensations darted through him until his mind was on a wild downhill tumble that was gaining speed with each passing second.

  It wasn’t until he heard the tiny groan in her throat and felt her hands curling over the tops of his shoulders that reality managed to creep into his brain, enabling him to break the contact of their lips and twist his head aside.

  While he sucked in ragged breaths, Geena pressed her cheek against his chest.

  “Oh, my—” she sputtered. “What—just—happened?”

  Vince didn’t have to wonder if the kiss had affected her. She was gulping for air and gripping his arms as though she needed a lifeline.

  His jaw tight with sudden resolve, he gently eased her away from him. Yet even with a respectable distance between them, tremors continued to rattle him. “I think we both momentarily lost our minds.”

  When she failed to respond, he glanced down to see she was pressing fingertips against her lips. For one wild second, Vince wanted to push her hand away and kiss her all over again.

  “You’re right,” she finally said. “My accident has put us in an unusual situation. It’s made both of us a little crazy. That’s understandable. Right?”

  She was looking to him for a reasonable excuse for the passion they’d just exchanged, but Vince realized there wasn’t one. At least, not in his mind. The truth of the matter was simple. He’d kissed Geena like that because he’d wanted to. Because he’d wanted her. As to why she’d kissed him back, he couldn’t let himself wonder about her motives.

  “Sure,” he said gruffly. “You feel lost and I—want to help you. We just got off track for a moment. It won’t happen again.”

  “No. It can’t happen again.” She swiped a hand through her tumbled hair, then turned and started out of the room. “I’ll go put supper on the table. I hope you’re hungry.”

  He was hungry all right, Vince thought sadly. For all the things he’d once let go. And for a woman he could never have again.

  Chapter Five

  A week later Vince was no closer to finding a link to Geena’s life before she’d crashed her car on the edge of Carson City. And she had yet to recall a glimmer of anything about her recent home and family. To make matters worse, in the past few days several crimes had been committed around the county, forcing Vince and Evan to direct their time and energy away from Geena’s case.

  Uncovering a person’s identity wasn’t nearly as important as figuring out who was responsible for an assault or robbery. Yet in any case, time played a major factor and no
one had to tell Vince that the quicker Geena’s problem could be solved, the sooner his life could get back to normal. Maybe then he’d be able to focus on his work instead of constantly fighting to keep Geena out of his thoughts.

  “I’m not so sure I believe Collier’s story of how the horse went missing. It all sounded ridiculous to me. He’s the barn manager. How could someone have gotten that stallion out of his stall and loaded him into a trailer without him knowing it? In broad daylight?”

  “Hmm.”

  “Yeah, I think Santa Claus probably hooked him up with his reindeer and they all flew away into the night.”

  “Sounds plausible,” Vince mumbled absently.

  “Damn, Vince! Would you come back to earth? I could use a little assistance with this case.”

  The SUV came to a jarring halt, and Vince looked around to see Evan had stopped the vehicle at an intersection of dirt roads. For the past hour and a half, they’d been interviewing a number of ranch hands, inspecting horse barns and traipsing through dusty paddocks in an effort to solve the mystery of how someone had made off with a cutting horse worth a whopping six figures.

  To complicate matters, the ranch where the crime had occurred lay adjacent to Storey County. If the horse had been taken across the county line, then Storey law officials would have to get involved with the investigation.

  Normally a case like this would get Vince’s blood pumping. Instead, he was spending all his energy trying to push Geena from his mind, and the distraction was making him crazy.

  Closing his eyes, Vince wearily rubbed the burning lids. “Sorry, Evan. I was thinking about something else.”

  “Duh. About Geena, right?”

  Vince cut his partner an annoyed glance. “What else? The woman is living in my house! I—we need to get this thing with her figured out so that she can go home, where she belongs!”