The Baby Gift

“I thought I heard you moving around.”

J.T. came into view, a comforting sight.

“Then you must have incredible hearing,” she said, admiring his long, lean lines for a moment. Pregnancy hadn’t made her immune to him as a man. He’d been good company all day, besides. Not very talkative, but an attentive listener. “I haven’t moved, Chief. I can’t.”

He crouched beside her, concern in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Your sofa is way too cushy. I think I’m embedded for life. Or until I get my abdominal muscles back.”

He helped her to sit up, then sat beside her, his expression serious. The clock ticked. The fire popped. Remnants of the dream knotted her stomach. Still, she was intrigued by him. There had been moments since she’d dropped into his life that he seemed to wish he’d never been saddled with her. Other times he looked so deep into her that heat radiated head to toe at the invasion. She’d felt at ease with him almost from the beginning, but this was the first time he’d chosen to sit so close to her…

Oh. She understood now. His home and office computers were linked. He was about to give her news she wasn’t going to like.

“Some chicken soup?” he asked.

“In a little while.” She linked her fingers, squeezing until they hurt. Her imagination ran wild with possibilities. “What have you found out?”

His hesitation was tangible. “Nothing.”

“Is that the truth?”

“You asked me not to feed your name into the system, but so far no one has reported you as missing.”

“What do you think it means?”

Again a hesitation, this time a little more ominous. “Frankly, I’d feel more comfortable if someone was searching for you through legal channels.”

“Me, too.” Pushing herself up, she walked to the fireplace and held her hands out to the flames. The heat barely penetrated her cold skin—and colder thoughts. “There’s another possibility, though. Maybe no one cares that I’m gone. Which is worse, do you think?”

“Gina—”

“No. Please don’t baby me. I need to know what I’m facing.”

She heard him come up behind her. He didn’t touch her, yet his warmth transferred to her. He would protect her with his life, he’d said. She believed him, and with that belief came trust, 100 percent.

She stared at her wedding ring. Pain hammered her head, vibrated behind her eyes. Instead of ignoring the signal and backing away from it, she tried to focus on what it meant.

“What if there’s a reason that I don’t feel married? Maybe I’m not. I might be wearing a ring so that people won’t think the worst of me.” She shook her head. “No. That wouldn’t explain why Eric’s name is on the health insurance card.”

J.T. stood behind her, waiting for her to reach the next logical conclusion: that her husband wasn’t alive. As soon as she figured that out, memories might come faster than she could cope with, but at least they would know why she was here and where the father of her child was.

And why that phantom man wasn’t taking care of her.

“I can’t think about it anymore. I need positive thoughts right now, for my baby’s sake,” she said with a note of finality. “Chicken soup, you said?”

“Or anything else you feel like eating.” Anticipating her next move, he took a step back as she turned, her belly a whisper away from brushing his.

“Have I said thank you for all you’re doing, Chief?”

“Not in the past two hours.”

The phone rang. He grabbed the portable receiver he’d brought with him. “Chief Ryker.”

“How’s the patient?”

J.T. eyed her. She’d moved to look out the picture window and was staring at the cloudless night sky, her hands gliding in circles over her belly, as if massaging the baby. “You can ask her yourself, Max. She actually speaks English.”

Over her shoulder she smiled at him. He passed her the phone then headed for the kitchen to heat up the soup. He’d already figured out that she was more comfortable eating a small meal every few hours, so he’d adjusted his schedule to her needs. It hadn’t been difficult to cater to her, just a battle to get her to let him.