Protecting Their Baby

None of this seemed lucky, but he went ahead and faked a smile. “Oh, sure. You hit the jackpot.”

She smiled, too. Only hers seemed genuine. “You even carry a gun.”

He nodded, and they both turned serious. A 9mm was clipped to his belt.

“Maybe I should learn to shoot.” She’d gone edgy again. A lioness protecting her cub. “You could teach me.”

Rex didn’t want her jumping the gun, no pun intended. “We’ll see, okay? For now, you just need to relax. Panicking won’t solve anything.”

“I’m not panicking.”

Wasn’t she? He doubted that she’d ever considered a firearm before. But being put in harm’s way changed a person.

“What happened with Daniel and Allie?” she asked suddenly. “Was Allie’s stalker caught?”

“Yes, she was.”

“She?”

“It was a young woman who had schizophrenic delusions about Daniel. She was taken to a psychiatric facility. She wasn’t stable enough to stand trial.”

“How is that related to the Warrior Society?”

“Daniel recovered a medicine bundle for her family. That’s how she knew him, from one of his missions.”

Lisa made a thought-provoking face. “Maybe there’s a girl out there with delusions about you.”

“Maybe, but I doubt it.” He’d already explained earlier how the timing was off, how someone associated with him probably wouldn’t have known about the baby so soon. Not unless that same someone was connected to Lisa, too. “But I’ll check into it.”

She searched his gaze, as if looking for answers in his eyes. “Am I going to meet Daniel and Allie? And the close-quarter combat trainer and his pregnant wife?”

“If you want to.”

“I do, and your family, too.”

“I’m an only child, and my parents live in North Carolina.” Eventually he would have to tell them about the baby, but for now, he preferred to keep it to himself. In spite of their own rotten marriage, they would probably bug him about proposing to Lisa and offering their grandchild a legitimate name.

“Is that where you’re originally from?”

“Yes. The Qualla Boundary. The Eastern Band Cherokee Indian Reservation,” he explained when she gave him a curious look.

“So you’re Cherokee?”

“I’m half, from my dad’s side. My mom is white.” But she was just as traditional as his old man.

“You’ll have to teach me about your heritage. For the baby,” she added.

“Stuff like that is going to take time.” For now, all he could focus on was who had threatened her. “This case takes priority.”

She hiccupped, then tapped her chest, trying to still the jumping motion. “I’m never going to look at dolls in the same way again.”

“Someday you might have to. If we have a girl, she’ll want to play with them.”

“Maybe she’ll be a tomboy.”

“Are you kidding? A daughter of yours?” He tried to lighten her mood. “Little Miss Sugar and Spice. She’s going to be a girlie girl.”

Lisa hiccupped again. “I keep seeing it in my head. Its broken body, its chest.”

Apparently his teasing hadn’t helped. “Try to block the image. Try to clear your mind.”

“That’s easier said than done.” Another hiccup erupted.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Was it true that hiccups went away if you scared someone? He wasn’t about to try it and find out.

Lisa was already on the verge of nightmares.

Chapter 3

Lisa made it through the night. No nightmares. But that was because she’d barely slept. You couldn’t dream if you were awake.

She curled up in bed, dawn seeping through the sheers. As usual, she was nauseous. Mornings were no longer kind to her.

Fighting her baby-on-board queasiness, she reached for the crackers she kept on the nightstand. She ate slowly, munching on one saltine at a time.

But it didn’t help.

She prayed this side effect would go away before too long. Supposedly it would. But she’d heard about women who suffered from morning sickness well beyond their first trimester.

Perish the thought. She would rather die.

No, she thought. Don’t think about dying. Or dolls with knives protruding from their fragile little bodies.

Oh, God. She sat up, clutched the water bottle beside her bed and took a cautious sip.

Bad move. The water hit her stomach like a roiling rock. The saltines she’d just eaten weren’t going to stay down.

Lisa dashed down the hall to the bathroom. She knelt in front of the commode and lost her cookies or crackers or whatever.

Finally, she made her way to the sink, rinsed her mouth and brushed her teeth. She scrubbed her face and combed her hair, too, trying to feel human again.

Upon exiting the bathroom, her breath caught. There stood Rex, wearing a lightweight T-shirt and drawstring shorts. He was also holding his shaving kit.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Great. He’d heard her vomit. She hadn’t considered her morning sickness when they’d agreed on a bathroom schedule. But she hadn’t expected them to wake up at the same exact hour, either. “It’s part of the pregnancy.”

“Does it happen every morning?”