The Baby Gift

She went silent as they drove the short distance to his house, then said suddenly, “My maiden name was Benedetto.” She pressed a hand to her mouth and looked at him. “How do I know that? And I have brothers and sisters. I remember them. I remember!”

He pulled into the garage, then angled toward her in time to see her push her fingers against her forehead, a signal he’d come to recognize.

It occurred to him that she might remember him before she remembered whoever she was running from—or even before she recalled her late husband. He eyed her thoughtfully. Oh, yeah. She was bound to be plenty mad at being kept in the dark. Added to whatever had driven her from home in the first place, there could be bitter consequences all around.

But weren’t some memories best left buried? If he’d had the chance to forget some things forever…

And yet it was his duty to help her remember, even as he hoped she never did.

He opened his car door. “Don’t push it, Gina. It’ll all come back on its own.”

J.T. helped her out of the car, keeping a hand under her elbow as they entered the house. He looked around, trying to see it from her perspective. He’d banished a lot of his frustrations with a saw and hammer while turning this house into a home.

She didn’t seem to look at her surroundings, however. Exhaustion lined her face. He guided her into the living room and settled her in a chair.

“Just relax for a minute while I get your stuff out of my car and make the guest room ready for you, okay?”

He thought she nodded.

“Okay, Gina? I don’t want to be accused of treating you like a child.”

She looked right at him, cool as snowfall, and he smiled. They’d almost been friends once upon a time. He focused on that.

After three trips he’d carted all of her belongings to the guest room. He folded back the blankets, then carried her toiletries into the adjoining bathroom, one she would share with him because he didn’t want her out of earshot, in case she needed anything.

He returned to the living room and stopped short. What a picture she made, asleep sitting up. He couldn’t begin to imagine the toll this day had taken on her. Every protective instinct flared. Whoever had pushed her into such a dire situation better hope he didn’t show up soon. J.T. couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t wring the guy’s neck. Eric had been bad enough—

He stopped that thought cold.

“Gina.” He cupped her shoulder. She leaned toward him, causing his heart to give a little lurch. The scent of a sun-warmed rose teased him. “Everything’s ready for you.”

“Mm.”

He waited, then, “Do you need help getting ready for bed?”

Her eyes popped open. He smiled.

“I’m not—”

“—a child. Yes, I know.” He did offer a hand up, however, as she swayed a little. “I found your nightgown. It’s on the bed.”

It was the longest ten minutes of his life, waiting for her. He hovered outside her door, listening for any indication she needed him, contemplating one of the items he’d found in her trunk—a sympathy card he’d sent after Eric’s death. Inside it, his handwritten words, an offer of help, if she ever needed anything.

He didn’t even remember sending it, but she’d kept it. No coincidence, after all. She’d been on her way to see him. Why, Gina? What kind of trouble would make you come to me, a man you proclaimed to hate?

Finally he heard the bed springs give a little and a murmur of sound from her.

“Everything all right?” he asked through the door.

“You can come in.”

“Deputy seems to want to sleep with me,” she said when he stepped into the room. “Is that okay?”

J.T. eyed the dog who was already curled up by her feet, a smug look in his eyes.

“He’s a free agent,” J.T. said, drawing a smile from her.

“Thank you for everything, Chief.”

Chief. Well, that was one way of staying detached. “You’re welcome. Good night, Gina.”

She must’ve fallen asleep instantly. He padded around the room, hanging up her jacket, then putting her boots in the closet, needing order in the chaos of his mind. Finished, he leaned across her to pat the fickle dog good night, careful not to disturb her. She made a soft, sleepy sound.

“J.T.?”

His jolt of surprise came less from the fact she was awake but that it seemed both odd and familiar to hear her say his name.

“When I close my eyes, why do I picture you wearing a dark-blue uniform?”

Two

Gina felt him move away from the bed. Opening her eyes, she saw him silhouetted in the bathroom doorway, shoulders set and legs planted, poised for action. She took a moment to admire him, this duty-driven man. His leashed strength and unwavering focus were even more appreciated now that she and her precious cargo were snuggled in a warm bed, out of harm’s way. It had been comforting hearing him move around the room, a brush of denim or a soft footfall the only sounds. But as she’d drifted toward sleep amid the peace his presence brought, a stark image of him imprinted itself in her mind.

“I thought you were asleep,” he said, folding his arms across his chest.

She couldn’t decide whether the edge in his voice was apology or accusation. “Do you wear a blue uniform?” she asked.

“No. Tan shirt, brown pants. Standard issue.”

Her temple pulsed. She spun her wedding ring, still hoping to draw reassurance from it, still finding none.

“There’s a photograph of me in a blue uniform with my parents in the hall outside the room,” he said, “taken the day I graduated from the police academy. I spent nine years on the L.A.P.D. before I accepted this job.”

She closed her eyes as fresh pain lanced her skull. Needing a diversion, she tried to focus on the conversation. “When did you move here?”

“What’s wrong, Gina?”

Silent as a stalking panther, he’d returned to the side of her bed and crouched there, although he didn’t touch her. She could’ve used a hug, a solid shoulder to lean on for just a minute.

“Do you need me to call Max? Are you in labor?”

Distract me, she begged him silently, wishing her head didn’t hurt every time something threatened to cut through the barbed wire guarding her memory. “I’m all right. I realized I could use a couple of extra pillows, though, if you have some.”

A cool breeze fanned her face at his instant departure. Deputy wriggled closer, then rested his head on her thigh, his liquid gaze uncensuring. The baby seemed settled, as well. Bracketed by baby and dog, Gina felt a contentment that she knew somehow was rare for her. Why?

And why wasn’t her husband with her? Eric. He should love and protect—

Fear stuck its claws in her, its talons wickedly sharp. What if it was Eric she was running from?