His Baby Bombshell

by Jessica Matthews

  "No."

  "Good. Then let's eat."

  Eat? He wanted to eat? The knots in her stomach made it impossible to digest food. "I'm really not hungry—"

  "I ordered your favorite. Pepperoni and mushroom."

  He'd remembered her weakness. She might have been able to resist the temptation, but she hadn't indulged in the extravagance in a very long time because her budget didn't cover such luxuries, and the scent alone was causing her mouth to water.

  "Come on," he coaxed. "We're starting over, remember? Most dates involve a meal where the two people can talk and get to know each other."

  "We aren't dating."

  "Whatever. Regardless, we're going to spend a lot of time together unless you're willing to let me take Jeremy back to my place."

  She snorted. "As if."

  "I thought not, which means it will be very awkward if we only talk to Jeremy. Eventually, he'll wonder why his parents never say more than two words to each other."

  Years would pass before their son would notice that sort of detail, but as someone had once said, "A journey begins with a single step." So she might as well begin hers now. For Jeremy's sake.

  "OK, I'll share your pizza, but then we'll have to call it a night. My shift starts early in the morning."

  "Fair enough."

  They sat down at her kitchen table where she'd covered most of the scratches, knicks and gouges under the cheery yellow sunflower place mats she'd sewn, and he began firing questions with a boyish eagerness that brought a smile to her face.

  "Tell me about your pregnancy. How was your labor and delivery? Has Jeremy changed a lot since he was born? Do you have photos?"

  "We agreed to catch up tomorrow," she reminded him.

  "I know, but I can't wait. Surely you can share a few things," he coaxed.

  She hesitated. Waiting another day wouldn't change anything and Jeremy was her favorite topic of conversation, so she bowed to the inevitable. After all, cooperating with Adrian would only serve her best interests, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time.

  Choosing to answer his last question first, she said, "Of course I have pictures. I have them in the other room." Carrying her pizza slice with her, she located an album on a shelf in the living room and carried it to the table. "Here. Take a look."

  Immediately, he stopped eating to open the padded book. Reverently, he turned the pages, stopping at several to comment. Surprisingly enough, he paused at the images taken at her baby shower. "You didn't gain much weight," he remarked.

  She hadn't. For starters, she'd been so ill up to her fifth month that her obstetrician had threatened to admit her to hospital. And after that she'd developed high blood pressure, which heralded pre-eclampsia. Although she'd cut back her hours to part-time work, eventually her condition had progressed to the point the doctor had prescribed bed rest. Fortunately, Jeremy had decided to arrive two weeks early, otherwise Dr VanderWaal would have performed a Cesarean section.

  "I got fat and waddled like every other expectant mom," she said lightly, hoping he wouldn't notice she hadn't shone with the expected glow of impending motherhood. She'd been allowed out of bed for her two-hour party and then, like clockwork, Kate had driven her home. While she'd rested, her friends from the hospital had carried in all the presents and stowed everything away.

  He frowned as he studied the snapshots. "You look pale. Were you anemic? Did your doctor prescribe vitamins? Better yet, did you take them?"

  "You can't diagnose me from a photo taken in bad lighting," she protested, although she hadn't looked her best that day. "I did have a few problems, but they all worked out. As for labor, it went fairly quickly. One of the OB nurses, Kate—she golfed with me yesterday—acted as my coach.

  "Anyway." Her voice softened as she reflected on those hours after his birth. "Jeremy was this tiny baby with a few strands of the darkest hair." She flipped another page and pointed. "See?"

  Adrian groaned good-naturedly. "Someone curled it. Who would do such a traumatic thing to a boy?"

  "Kate. She thought it made him look cute—more like a baby and less like a little old man. Everyone remarked on how he seemed to know what people said to him, probably because he always looked directly at the person talking."

  "Intelligence shows." He grinned. "He gets that from his dad."

  "He definitely inherited your disposition," she said wryly. "He's easygoing until he wants something, and then you'd better give it to him right away, or else. As small as he is, he doesn't mind throwing his weight around."

  His skin turned ruddy. "We'll have to work on that together." His watch beeped the hour and he frowned as he checked the time. "I guess that's my cue to go," he said, clearly reluctant to cut short their evening.

  "Take the album with you," she said magnanimously. "If you'd like copies of the photos, I saved them to a CD so you can make prints. I put the camera you gave me for my birthday that year to good use."

  "I'm glad."

  "Oh, and speaking of gifts…" She hurried into her bedroom, rummaged through her sock drawer, and returned with the tiny box containing an expensive diamond pendant in a double-heart design that he'd given her for Christmas. "I almost forgot. This is yours."

  He stared at the jeweler's box as if it were a canister of anthrax, then met her gaze. "You should keep it."

  "What for?"

  He shrugged. "Save it for Jeremy."

  "No, thanks." She reached out, grabbed his hand and placed the case in his palm. "Please take it. I have no use for a necklace like this. If I should ever meet anyone else, I'd feel too awkward to ever wear it."

  "Keep it," he repeated.

  She held up her hands and backed up a step, out of arm's reach. "I should have returned it before I left Denver, and I would have but…Anyway, just take it. Give it to your…to someone else who'll appreciate it."

  In her dreams, she'd always imagined herself handing the gold pendant to him as carelessly as if it were a piece of costume jewelry. In real life, however, transferring ownership hadn't been as satisfying as she'd imagined. Perhaps she should keep it—for Jeremy—but the necklace was simply too painful a reminder to accidentally run across. The interlocking hearts had seemed so appropriate but apparently she'd read far more into the meaning behind the design than Adrian had. To her, the shape had been a sign of their feelings for each other, while to him it had meant nothing. Removing the pendant from her drawer only marked The Official End to a relationship that had precipitously ended a year ago.

  Instead of feeling liberated and relieved, she felt…lost and depressed, which was ridiculous. Disposing of this gift was supposed to be part of the healing process. Wasn't it?

  His fingers closed over the small square box and he slipped it into his pocket. "Do you need anything? Anything at all? Anything like…" He glanced around the room as if searching for ideas, "I don't know, formula or baby stuff, or even a sofa?"

  "Jeremy and I are fine. We don't need a thing," she said firmly.

  "I feel as if I owe you something."

  How typical to think money would solve their problems when it would only ease his conscience. "You don't."

  He looked thoughtful, but didn't argue. Thank goodness, because she wasn't ready for a full-scale argument. He only said, "If you don't mind, I'll check on Jeremy one more time and then I'll get out of your hair."

  "OK."

  He didn't stay long in Jeremy's room and left after delivering a curt "See you tomorrow". After she'd closed the door behind him, Sabrina tidied her tiny home and removed all traces of their impromptu dinner. However, as the pizza scent lingered in the air after she'd stuffed the box in the trash can outside, so did the memories of his strong, steady embrace and the kiss that had curled her toes and reawakened her hormones.

  She couldn't forget the instant when he'd splayed his hand across her back to anchor her tightly against him or how her own body had betrayed her as she'd risen on tiptoe to meet him halfway. Luckily, her good sense had ki
cked in and stopped her from allowing the situation to escalate. They'd only been reacting to the emotional moment, she told herself for the tenth time. As sizzling as the kiss had been, it didn't mean anything.

  How embarrassing to think that even with their history she still responded to his touch and his non-verbal signals so easily. How pathetic was that? Pathetic enough to wish for a carton of either fudge ripple or chocolate chunk ice cream to magically appear in her pitifully empty freezer.

  Over the next couple of days, in spite of berating herself for being so weak, in spite of Adrian subsequently acting like the perfect gentleman, or perhaps because he acted like the perfect gentleman, those living color memories resurfaced at the oddest times. Like now, when she should be concentrating on Mrs Gardner in room four.

  The woman had come in with sudden indigestion when she hadn't eaten for hours, a squeezing sensation in her chest that continued into her throat and both jaws. Although the symptoms weren't typical for a heart attack, Adrian seemed in favor of the diagnosis after reviewing her EKG. Now Sabrina was checking the computer for the lab's cardiac enzyme results and waiting for a cardiologist to arrive.

  "Yo, there, Sabrina." Hilary bustled up to the other side of the counter. "If you're relatively caught up, I want you to handle the walk-in we're getting. A woman was found wandering the streets, confused and possibly assaulted. The cops are bringing her in."

  "No ambulance?"

  "The paramedics are tied up at a warehouse fire, so the police decided not to wait for them."

  The automatic ambulance bay doors opened and two uniformed officers escorted a petite woman inside. "They're here," Hilary announced. "I'll find Dr McReynolds and send him in ASAP."

  Sabrina strode toward the trio, noting the woman's bloodied face, torn clothing, and the way she clutched the blanket around her as if it were armor. "I'm Sabrina," she said gently as she touched the woman's shoulder to guide her into a nearby exam room. "I'm going to be taking care of you. Meanwhile, would you like me to call your family, or a friend?"

  The woman simply stared at her with panic in her eyes. "I don't—I can't…"

  "We don't know who she is," the middle-aged Officer Malone, according to his nametag, volunteered. "The victim says she can't remember her name. You don't by any chance recognize her, do you?"

  Sabrina studied the thirty-ish brunette's battered features. When the swelling subsided and the bruises faded, she'd be quite attractive. "Sorry."

  "We're hoping you folks find a distinguishing mark or two to help ID her if anyone files a missing persons report."

  "I'll see what I can do." She closed the door behind them and coaxed her to release the blanket.

  The woman's clothes, although torn and bloody, were of a much higher quality than most. Her neck sported a number of red marks, suggesting someone had ripped off her necklace. Her hands were devoid of all jewelry, although her left hand's ring finger showed a distinctive band of white.

  Helping her into a hospital gown was like helping a two-year-old. The woman had definitely been traumatized.

  "Why can't I remember? I want to," the woman said on a near sob. "I remember being in a car and then walking, so I should be able to think of my own name, but when I try, my head hurts."

  "You have a nasty bump," Sabrina told her kindly. "Sometimes those injuries can cause temporary amnesia."

  "How long is 'temporary'?"

  "It depends," Sabrina prevaricated. "A neurologist can give a better answer than I can. Meanwhile, you simply have to give yourself time to heal, both physically and emotionally. You never know when a conversation, a sound or a smell might trigger your memories."

  "I suppose." She didn't sound convinced.

  "First things first," Sabrina declared. "Have you eaten?"

  The woman shrugged. "I don't know. I think so. Whether I did or not, I'm not hungry."

  "A snack always helps," Sabrina told her. "After the doctor is finished, I'll scrounge something from the cafeteria. Maybe soup or a sandwich, along with tea or coffee. Or does a soda sound better?"

  "Cherry cola would be nice. It's my favorite." Her face lit up as soon as she spoke, then her smile became a frown. "How can I remember what I like to drink when I can't remember who I am?"

  "The mind does unusual things during times of intense stress," Sabrina said. "The good thing is that you are remembering little details. Chances are good the rest of your memory will return soon. As I said, the specialist will be able to answer all of your questions." She took her clothes and placed them in a proper bag to be used as legal evidence.

  Adrian walked in at that moment, along with a striking blonde in her forties who wore a police badge. "I'm Dr McReynolds," he said in a low, soothing voice, "and this is Detective Harper. If you're ready, I'm going to examine you and then you can shower and change clothes. Sabrina will find something for you to wear."

  He raised an eyebrow at Sabrina and she nodded. They stored a few scrub suits for occasions like this.

  The brunette's mouth quivered. "Thank you."

  He gently examined her as Sabrina stood by and noted her injuries. In addition to the obvious scrapes and contusions, she had distinct marks on her arms, indicating that at least one person had grabbed her. Two of her ribs were separated—fortunately, neither had punctured a lung—and an angry-looking cigarette burn marred her left thigh.

  As Adrian performed a pelvic exam, his sober glance at Sabrina said it all. The woman had been sexually assaulted.

  In his quiet baritone, he explained everything he was doing while Sabrina carefully labeled the samples he'd collected. Detective Harper's sharp-eyed gaze followed the proceedings as she murmured encouraging words to the victim.

  In a remarkably short amount of time they'd finished treating her injuries, obtained blood and urine samples to check for medical conditions, and administered the appropriate prophylatics to guard against HIV and hepatitis. The only real surprise was that Jane Doe's pregnancy test result had come back positive.

  "The real kicker is that she probably wouldn't have known even if she hadn't lost her memory," he remarked after they'd sent her to X-Ray for chest films. "Her beta-HCG level is very low, which suggests she's only days into her pregnancy."

  "Will she miscarry?"

  He shrugged. "We wait and see."

  "What will happen in the meantime? We can't discharge her when she can't fend for herself."

  "We won't," he promised. "I'll admit her for observation because a concussion could have caused her memory loss. With luck, the police will locate someone who knows her before being homeless becomes an issue."

  "I saw the white line on her finger. Whoever hurt her probably stole her wedding ring."

  "That's my theory, too. According to the police, she was wandering around in a residential area, probably trying to get home."

  Sabrina nodded. "I should have asked Officer Malone what they'll do to find her family."

  "If no one files a missing persons report, they'll look for abandoned cars."

  "What if the bad guy stole that, too? Or if she walked?"

  "Then they may issue a press release asking the public for information."

  "And if no one comes forward and we can't find a reason to keep her?"

  "I imagine she'll go to the local women's crisis shelter. We won't turn her out to fend for herself."

  "I should hope not! I feel so sorry for her husband. Wondering where his wife is." The idea of being separated from one's family sent a cold shiver down Sabrina's spine.

  "No one lives in a vacuum, Bree," he said kindly. "Think positively. Someone's sure to notice our Jane Doe didn't come home when she was supposed to and he'll report it."

  "I hope you're right," she said fervently, disturbingly aware that if this situation had happened to her, it would take a while for anyone to notice and sound an alarm. More importantly, what would happen to Jeremy? She hadn't recorded a name in the "next-of-kin" box on her employment form. Neither would Jeremy's birth c
ertificate give any clues because she'd left the space for the father's name blank, too.

  "This case really bothers you, doesn't it?" he asked, uncannily accurate.

  Sabrina shrugged. "I can normally be objective, but this time…I feel so sorry for her and her family. She's a lost soul and I can't imagine what her husband must be going through."

  "You always cared about your patients more than most," he said. "Are you sure that's all it is?"

  She refused to admit that this scenario had awakened fears that she hadn't considered—fears that should be addressed relatively soon to ensure Jeremy wouldn't be left in legal limbo. While she didn't look for tragedy at every turn, it was an equal opportunity event—no one, no matter how careful he or she was, was safe from misfortune.

  Explaining that, however, would only make her appear paranoid. As thoughtful and considerate as Adrian had been these past few days, she wouldn't show any weakness that he could exploit. She'd experienced firsthand how quickly he could turn on her, so trusting him was too risky.

  She drew a bracing breath. "It is. You know me," she said lightly. "I always get too wrapped up in my patients' problems, but you're right. We have to be positive and I need to stop imagining the worst-case scenario."

  "I can help you with that," he said. "Let's take Jeremy to the park tonight. He wants to have a picnic."

  She grinned at his matter-of-fact revelation. "Oh, he does, does he? I suppose you have a special skill and insight that allows you to understand baby-speak?"

  "I do," Adrian said self-importantly. "I asked him if he wanted a trip to the park and he jabbered at me for a full five minutes. The translation definitely involved a trip to the park."

  His good humor was infectious. "Really."

  "Yeah. He also said that his mommy wouldn't want to go, but I should persuade her because she needs the fresh air. So, how about it? We both clock out at six. I can pick you up at half past and we'll be on our way."

  Relaxing in the shady confines of the park after being cooped inside all day sounded heavenly, but spending evening after evening with Adrian wasn't wise. He'd wiggle his way into her life and then leave a gaping hole when he left.