Vince tried to keep his eyes off her, but there was something about her tonight that made her look even lovelier than usual. Although her face was bare of makeup, there was a glow about her skin and a soft light in her eyes that made her look almost ethereal.
You’re losing it, Vince. Geena isn’t an angel. And she damned sure isn’t yours. So snap out of it and get your mind back to the real world.
“Vince, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you.”
He glanced at her while the pestering voice in his head continued to nag at him. “What’s that?”
She placed her glass on the table. “I understand you don’t like to talk about the past—I mean, our past. But there’s a picture of a man wearing a uniform—it’s sitting on the console table in the living room. Did I ever meet him or know him at one time?”
He quickly glanced down to his plate. “Why? Do you think you should recognize him?”
“Well, yes, I believe I have some sort of connection to the man, but I can’t figure it out. It’s mainly just a feeling I get whenever I look at the photo.”
Whether her amnesia was physical or psychological, it was clear the injury was beginning to heal itself, and Vince didn’t know whether to feel relieved or sad that their days together would soon end.
“You must be getting well, Geena, because you did have a connection to him. Even though you never met him, Parry Parcell was your fatherin-law. My father.”
Confusion puckered her brow. “Oh. Then why did I never meet him? He didn’t approve of me? You two were estranged or something?”
Shaking his head, Vince pushed the plate aside. “You never met my father because he was killed when I was fourteen years old. He was a police officer in Reno. He got shot answering a domestic violence call.”
Her lips parted as she stared at him in disbelief. “I’m so sorry, Vince. Losing your dad like that—I can’t imagine how awful it was for you. Especially at that young age.”
“It wasn’t easy. Understandably, my mother fell apart. She blamed the police force for taking her husband. After that she wasn’t too much help in raising me and my older sister. By the time I entered the police academy, she’d remarried and moved away.”
“Did I get along with her? Do you communicate with her now?”
Vince could understand that Geena was desperate to fill in the gaps of her life, and right now he was the only one who could help her do that. But there were parts of his life that he didn’t like to revisit.
“You didn’t have much chance to get along with her. I think we only saw her two times during the five years we were married. She lives back east now. Somewhere in Virginia. We don’t talk much. You see, she’s never forgiven me for becoming a lawman.”
“That’s awful. I mean, she should be proud of you for choosing such an admirable job.”
If Vince had still been eating he probably would have choked on Geena’s comment. He couldn’t count the times that she’d accused him of loving his job more than her. But there was no point in telling her any of that. The problems the two of them had then held no significance now.
“It killed her husband and she swore it will kill me. She says doesn’t want to be around to see it. And who knows, maybe she’s right. Maybe someday a fatal bullet or something else will take my life. But until then, I’m going to be a detective. Not just because it makes me a living, but because it’s my calling.”
Picking up his plate, he carried it over to the sink and scraped the leftovers into the garbage disposal.
Geena followed and stood watching as he washed the plate and dried it.
“What about your sister? Does she live close by?” she asked.
“No. She lives in California. She’s divorced. No kids. And before you ask, yes, you two liked each other. Her name is Nicki.” He moved past her and opened the cabinets. “Is there still some of that decaffeinated coffee? It’s late, but I’d like a cup before I go to bed. What about you?”
“I don’t want a cup, but I’ll make it for you,” she offered. “You’ve had a long day. Go have a seat in the living room and I’ll bring it to you.”
He hardly needed a pregnant woman to be serving him coffee, but rather than argue with her, he simply thanked her and left for the living room.
Five minutes later, he was sitting in an armchair, his head resting against the back, his eyes closed, when Geena appeared with his coffee.
“I put cream in it. That is the way you like it, isn’t it?” she asked as she leaned over and set the cup and saucer on a table near the arm of his chair.
“Yes, thanks.”
She straightened, then immediately began to rub her lower back. “I forgot to ask if you wanted something for dessert. Cookies? Fruit?”
“I’m fine. But I’m not sure you are. Maybe you should take some over-the-counter pain relief.”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to take anything that might harm the baby. I think I’ll go have a nice warm bath and go to bed.”
For the past few days it had become evident to Vince that the extra weight she was carrying was beginning to put even more of a strain on her body. She was moving more slowly, and when she took off her shoes he could see her ankles were slightly swollen. The idea that she was going through such discomfort to give some other man a child was not something he wanted to think about.
“Sounds like a good idea,” he told her.
After telling him good-night, she started out of the room, and Vince reached for his coffee. But he’d barely taken two sips when, from somewhere behind him, he heard her let out a loud gasp.
“Geena?”
The cup clattered and nearly tipped over as he hurriedly slammed it onto the saucer and leaped from the chair.
In the hallway, leading to the bedrooms, he found Geena doubled over, her arms clutching the weight of her belly. Fear raced through him as he sprinted to her side.
“Geena, what’s wrong? Is it the baby?”
She reached out to him, and Vince wrapped a supporting arm around her shoulders.
Her head bent, she said in a strained voice, “I think so. I think my labor is starting.”
Even though Vince had known this moment was drawing near, he still wasn’t prepared for the reality that Geena was going to give birth.
He leaned his head down in order to look at her face. “Are you sure?” he asked anxiously. “Maybe this is some of those false pains.”
Her lips stretched to a taut, thin line. “There’s nothing false about this! The pain is—awful!”
“Okay. Okay. We need to get you to the hospital. Do you think you can walk to the car, or do I need to carry you?”
“I’ll walk. You need to collect my bag from the bedroom. I packed it today. So it has everything I—”
The remainder of her words ended abruptly as another violent pain struck her. Cradling her belly, she bent forward and groaned loudly.
Vince had never felt so helpless in his life.
“You can’t walk like this,” he told her. “I’ll carry you.”
“No, I—”
Her protest was halted by a sudden gush of amniotic fluid that rushed down both legs and splattered in puddles on the hardwood floor.
“Oh! Vince, I—I’m so sorry! My water—”
“Don’t be crazy! It’s just a floor!” Bending, he carefully picked her up and started to the front of the house. “The hospital is only a few blocks away. I can drive you there quicker than waiting on an ambulance.”
She wrapped her arms tightly around him and buried her face in the side of his neck. “Just promise you won’t leave me, Vince. That’s all I ask. That you stay with me.”
“I promise.”
He’d stay, he thought grimly, until the baby arrived. Until she finally remembered the man she really loved.
Chapter Six
Outside, Vince carried her to his personal truck and carefully laid her on the backseat, then raced back into the house to collect the things she ne
eded.
On the short drive to the hospital, he drove as fast as safety would allow, while Geena grew unexpectedly quiet and still.
Glancing over his shoulder for the umpteenth time, he asked, “Have the pains stopped? Do you think the baby is about to arrive?”
Her head moved back and forth against the seat. “I can’t tell you that, Vince. I’ve never done this before! Right now everything feels—numb with pain.”
Not feeling a bit reassured by her response, Vince steered the truck into an open lane of the thoroughfare and pressed down on the accelerator. “Just hang on,” he told her. “We’re almost there.”
At the hospital, Vince drove straight to the emergency entrance, where a pair of nurses quickly helped Geena out of the truck and into a wheelchair.
As they wheeled her through a set of double glass doors, Vince was left to follow with her bag and a robe he’d found hanging on a hook in the bathroom.
Inside the ER waiting room, one of the nurses, a tall woman with gray hair and a no-nonsense expression, snatched hold of Vince’s sleeve and pointed to the admitting office.
“You go there, Daddy, and take care of the admission papers. We’ll take care of her and the baby. When you finish in admitting, go to the second floor. The nurses at the desk there will give you any further information about your wife,” she instructed. “Give me her things. I’ll put them away until she’s assigned a room.”
While handing her the bag and robe, Vince started to explain to the nurse that he wasn’t the daddy or the husband, but just as quickly he decided there was no point. Geena was in too much pain to deal with a bunch of paperwork. Someone had to do it for her, and he was the only one available.
He thanked the nurse, then turned around to see that Geena had already been wheeled away. So much for giving her a parting word of encouragement, Vince thought.
What could you have said to her anyway, Vince? It isn’t your baby she’s having. Your job isn’t to be a daddy. Your job is to find the real one.
Disgusted with the sarcastic voice in his head, Vince hurried over to the admissions office and sat down in a hard plastic chair to wait his turn.
Several minutes later, as his anxious nerves continued to build to the breaking point, he finally moved to another plastic chair, where he was facing a woman with curly brown hair and a wide, stern face. And naturally, she had to start out with the hardest question of all.
“Patient’s name, please.”
“Her first name is Geena. I can’t tell you her last name.”
“What do you mean, you can’t tell me? Are you saying you brought a stranger to the emergency unit?”
Vince bit back a weary sigh. He’d been going for the past nineteen hours and he was worried sick about Geena. He wasn’t in the mood to go around in silly circles with this woman. “No. She isn’t a stranger. She’s my ex-wife.”
“Then you should certainly know her last name.”
“I should, but I don’t. You see, she has amnesia,” Vince explained.
“Oh, so that’s why she’s entering the hospital? For a head injury?”
“No, she’s having a baby.”
Clearly annoyed now, the woman lifted her hands from the keyboard and leveled a scathing look at him. “Yours, I presume?”
Vince was shocked at how much he wanted to give the woman a loud, resounding yes to her question. “No, I’m not the father.”
She let out a frustrated sigh. “Do you know the biological father’s name?”
“If I did, he’d be sitting here now instead of me.”
She flattened both her hands on the desktop as though she was about to rise to her feet. “Is this some sort of joke? Sir, this is a hospital where people are dealing with serious issues. And a few of them are behind you, waiting for you to finish this farcical exchange!”
Vince pulled his badge from the back pocket of his jeans and laid it on the counter for the woman to see.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but there’s nothing amusing about Geena’s situation. The sheriff’s department is presently trying to resolve the issue of her identification.”
She cast him a sheepish look. “I’m sorry, too, Detective. Perhaps it would be best, under the circumstances, to admit her as a Jane Doe.”
The suggestion caused something in Vince to snap, and before he could stop himself, he burst out, “No! Damn it! She’s isn’t a Jane Doe! She’s Geena!”
“I understand—I think. And I’m sorry,” the woman said gently. “But the hospital requires a patient to have a last name. For insurance and billing purposes. I suppose it would be pointless of me to ask for a Social Security number?”
Feeling utterly drained, he wiped a hand over his face. This woman couldn’t possibly know all the barriers and roadblocks he’d encountered since he’d started the search for Geena’s current identification. A Social Security number would have answered plenty of questions, but he could barely remember his own, much less his ex-wife’s. And since she’d always filed her income tax separately, he didn’t have any old returns stored away with that information. In the past few days, he’d contacted two federal agencies for help, but so far he’d only gotten red tape deferrals and holdups.
“Trust me, once I do get the number I’ll pass it on to you. For now, just list her as Geena Parcell. That was her name for a while.”
“Very well.” She typed in the name. “Now let’s move on to her address.”
By now Vince was past wasting time with explanations, so he simply gave her his home address. Even if it was only temporary, it was actually Geena’s present place of residence.
By the time the office worker had completed the list of endless questions and Vince had signed his name to the necessary documents, he was so frustrated and worried, he practically ran to the nearest set of elevators. On his way up to the second floor, he hurriedly sent a text to Evan to inform his partner that Geena’s baby was on its way. If by some chance Evan was still working late at their office, Vince believed his partner would probably stop by the hospital before he headed home.
Twenty minutes later, after several sessions of sitting and standing and pacing as he waited for some sort of word on Geena’s condition, he was back in one of the cushioned chairs, flipping blindly through a magazine when he spotted a pair of familiar cowboy boots standing in front of him.
Relieved to see his friend, Vince tossed down the magazine and jumped to his feet. “You never returned my text, so I decided you were already home in bed.”
“I got busy after you left the office, so I’ve not gone home yet. And I didn’t want to text you. I wanted to talk with you in person. How’s Geena?” he asked.
“I was told a doctor was examining her. But that was fifteen minutes ago!”
“They won’t let you see her?”
Vince shook his head. “Not yet. The nurse said they had to get her settled first. Settled, hell! The baby is probably being born this very minute!”
Evan patted his shoulder. “Calm down. These things usually take a while. Besides, I’m glad I caught you here in the waiting room.” He pointed to the chair Vince had just vacated. “Maybe you’d better sit down.”
Alarm raced through Vince, jangling his already frayed nerves. “I don’t want to sit. What’s happened? We’ve been called to a homicide scene or something?”
“Nothing like that.”
Evan pushed back the brim of his cowboy hat and passed a hand over her forehead. Vince could see his partner was bleary-eyed with exhaustion, which made him feel doubly guilty. As a favor to him, Evan had been working above and beyond on Geena’s case.
“Then why do I need to sit? Is this something about Noelle or Joanna?”
“No. It’s Geena’s case. Shortly after you left the office, I was closing things down for the night when a call came in. A credible call.”
Stunned, Vince stared at him. “Credible? How can you be sure?”
“Believe me, everything fits. This person is well acquainted wi
th Geena—she’s a friend. She hasn’t called before tonight because she just now spotted Geena’s picture on a missing-persons website.”
Vince’s head was spinning. Geena was about to deliver the baby. Until this very moment, he’d not realized how much he’d been looking forward to having a child in the house. Now he was faced with the news that she and the baby would be leaving the hospital with someone else.
You should be dancing a jig, Vince. Your troubles are over. You’ll have your house back. Your life back. No crying baby. No woman with an endearing smile and soft, tempting lips.
He let out a heavy sigh. “So when will her husband or boyfriend be coming to collect her and the baby?”
Taking him by the shoulder, Evan guided him over to a more private area of the room. “Hold your horses, Vince. You’re going way too fast. First of all, according to what this friend, Megan O’Dell, tells me, there is no man in Geena’s life. There was a husband for about four weeks, but the marriage was annulled and he skedaddled out of the picture. As for the rest, Geena was living in Pendleton, Oregon, and teaching art at a private school there. But in recent months she decided to make a move here to Carson City.”
Because he was living here? Because she was pregnant and alone and seeking his help? No, that was inconceivable, Vince thought. Geena hadn’t known where he lived. Or had she?
The questions were rolling through his mind like a giant windstorm. “So that’s why she was driving into Carson City the night she had the accident? She was moving here?”
Evan nodded. “From what this Megan explained to me, the day before the accident, Geena left Pendleton with her car loaded to the brim with her belongings. So that explains why the car burned so quickly. The packed boxes must have acted as an accelerant.”
Wiping a hand over his face, Vince tried to digest all of Evan’s news, but it was more than his weary brain could absorb. “What am I going to do, Evan, when I see her? She’s having a baby! Am I supposed to throw all this stuff at her?”
Evan sighed. “I’m not a doctor. But from my experience a woman doesn’t need that sort of distraction when she’s trying to deliver a baby.”
His Badge, Her Baby...Their Family? Page 8
