Chapter Two
T
he next afternoon, Greg pulled into Emily’s drive in his unmarked squad car and parked. He sat motionless for a moment or two, listening to the background noise of voices on the police radio. Apparently, there was a 10-33—a triggered security alarm—from a locked store. Across town another officer was taking a Code 8—a restroom break. Like most things, that just sounded better in a numerical code than to state the obvious. Greg’s thoughts weren’t on the voices, however. He found himself feeling somewhat nervous, something he didn’t feel very often. He took a deep breath and opened the car door.
Emily’s home sprawled just south of the small community of Haggerston. A bungalow-style rancher, it had a large yard hemmed in by a log fence. The effect was quite rustic, and he liked it. The well-maintained yard sported flower beds arranged naturally, as if little patches of flowers and leafy plants had just decided to push up around a rock or a tree, although in Montana, that sort of natural sprouting rarely happened without a good deal of loving care. Her front door had a woven twig wreath hanging on it, and he imagined that come the holiday season, it would be festooned with berries and holly. Her windows were covered with shuttered blinds that were open at the moment, letting the summer light in and keeping prying eyes out. As a police officer, he approved of her use of privacy.
In the trunk, Greg had several bags and boxes of baby things he’d picked up from the station, and he carried them to her front door before ringing the bell. He didn’t hear anything for a few moments, and he was about to ring again when he heard the sound of footfalls. Her peephole darkened for a moment. Then the lock scraped, and she pulled the door open.
Emily stood in the doorway, her hair still damp from a shower, wearing a pair of jeans and a loose, pink blouse that brought out the color in her cheeks. Her hair had left wet patches on her shoulders, and her face was makeup free. She looked fresh, albeit a little tired, the warm June breeze tugging at some wisps of hair around her face that were drying faster than the rest.
“Hi.” She angled her head to gesture him inside. “Wow, that’s a lot of boxes.”
He looked at the pile next to the door and nodded his agreement.
“I’ve been assured that all of it is absolutely necessary,” he said. “I took their word for it.”
She smiled, her eyes meeting his with a sparkle of amusement. “I hope this isn’t too far out of your way.”
“We’ve all taken a personal interest in Cora.” He gave Emily a shrug. “And you’re her new mom.”
“Well...” A glimmer of something crossed her face, and she made a concerted effort to mask it. “I’m hoping, at least. I’ve heard that these things can be a bit complicated.”
Greg nodded. It was true, and he wasn’t one to give false reassurances. Custody cases could be incredibly complicated, and no one could say what would happen with this one. Instead of answering her, he put his attention into bringing the rest of the boxes inside, piling them neatly inside the door.
“How is everything going with Cora?” he asked instead.
“Surprisingly well, considering how little I slept last night.” She gave him a wry smile. He had to admit, she looked pretty good for not having slept, but then, he probably wasn’t noticing the same things she was. Emily Shaw seemed like the kind of woman who could look pretty good wearing a paper bag.
“Well, this is it.” He nodded toward the boxes. “This should help get you started.”
“Are you on the clock?” she asked.
“Not officially, ma’am.”
“Did you want to come in for a cup of iced tea or something?”
Greg cleared his throat. He hadn’t come over to shoot the breeze, but he had to admit that the prospect of an iced tea on a hot day with some beautiful company appealed.
“Unless you’re busy—” She blushed.
“Well, I suppose a few minutes wouldn’t hurt.”
Emily rewarded him with a brilliant smile and angled her head into the house.
“Come to the kitchen. We’ll be more comfortable there.”
Greg followed Emily through a cool, spacious living room into the kitchen. It was lined with bright windows opening up onto a large veranda out back. The kitchen was a cook’s dream, with polished black appliances, a gorgeous amount of counter space and an island in the middle with a selection of stainless-steel pots hanging above.
Next to a small kitchen table by a window sat a little bassinet, baby Cora nestled under a light knitted blanket, snoring softly. Emily peeked in on her, pausing for a moment on her way to the refrigerator.
“So you were friends with Steve, were you?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder.
“
Friends
might be a strong word. I knew him.” Greg perched on the edge of a stool by the counter, grateful for a topic of conversation that didn’t involve anything too personal. “What’s he up to now?”
“He got married about ten years ago,” Emily said. “His wife, Sara, and he have three little girls. They’re very sweet. Always dressed alike.”
“The girls or Steve and his wife?” Greg allowed a smile to twitch at the corners of his lips.
“The girls.” She laughed.
“What’s he up to? We lost touch when he left for college.”
“He’s an accountant,” she replied. “He’s doing pretty well for himself. They live in Billings.”
That sounded like Steve. He’d always been the number-crunching sort, acing math classes and taking on the role of class treasurer. Greg would have guessed that he’d end up with a comfortable lifestyle, and Billings was a logical place to land. There had always been something about Steve that Greg hadn’t liked, though—a cockiness that rubbed him the wrong way.
Emily poured them each a glass of iced tea, and he took a sip of the sweet brew.
“Did you know Jessica?” she asked.
Greg shook his head. “I think I knew that Steve had a younger sister, but—” He paused. “No, I didn’t know her.”
“I’m not sure why she chose me.” A blush rose in Emily’s cheeks.
“You said you didn’t know she was pregnant. Did her brother know?” Greg’s gut told him that there was a lot more to this story, but just because a family’s story was deep and complicated didn’t mean that there was anything criminal going on. Heck, his family had pretty deep and complicated things going on, too.
Emily was silent for a moment, then shrugged. “Not that he said. This is all pretty strange.”
He nodded slowly. “So you’d lost touch, and all of a sudden there’s a baby in the picture?”
“Pretty much.” She let out a sigh. “It feels like a dream right now.”
“It’ll be an adjustment.” He heard the cop-sound in his own voice. It came out naturally, especially when he felt uncomfortable, and this beautiful kindergarten teacher definitely made him uncomfortable.
“So how long have you been in law enforcement?”
“I joined right out of high school. My dad was a cop, too.”
“I didn’t realize that. I don’t think I knew your dad.”
“He was before your time.” Greg shrugged. The story of his police-chief father wasn’t one he intended to tell.
“You’ve done well for yourself. You’re police chief here, you’re well respected—”
“Thanks. You’ve done well, too.” He looked around at the rancher.
“Oh, this wasn’t on a teacher’s salary.” She laughed softly. “My grandparents left me an inheritance, and my parents kicked in a graduation gift, which meant I could just afford the mortgage payments.”
“You’ve got family behind you, and that’s a good thing.”
“Everything is easier with family,” she agreed, taking a long sip of iced tea from her glass. “So what about you? Do you have a lot of family around here?”
“Not a lot. We moved out here for my dad’s job when I was young, so most of the family is back east.”
She nodded thoughtfully, but remained silent.
“Are you doing this alone?” he asked.
A little hiccup-y cry came from the bassinet, and she slid off the stool and went to pick up the baby. Cora wriggled in Emily’s arms for a few moments before settling against her neck. Glancing at her watch, Emily walked over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle, his question apparently forgotten.
“I think she’s hungry....” Her voice was soft and soothing, her tone different now that the baby was in her arms. After running the bottle under hot water, shaking it up and testing it, she popped the nipple into the baby’s mouth, who slurped at it hungrily.
“Yes, I’m doing this alone.” Her tone grew quiet as she fed the baby. “I’m single, so this is my chance. I’m not getting any younger, either. I always wanted children of my own, but—” She stopped and laughed self-consciously.
“You must like kids a lot, teaching kindergarten,” he said.
“I love kids.” She gave him a grin. “Do you?”
“Oh, definitely.” He chuckled. “I have a couple of nephews who come to visit me every spring break. We have a great time.”
Emily looked down into the infant’s face tenderly. She loved the baby already, he could tell. That was a good thing. A very good thing. The image of the crumpled car, the blood and the baby wailing from the backseat was still very fresh in his mind, and seeing her cuddled and loved was helping to dispel it.
“If you ever need anything, just let me know,” he said. “And I’m serious about that.”
“Thanks.” She looked up at him, her dark eyes meeting his warmly.
“The other officers, well...let’s just say that Cora stole quite a few hearts, and we all care about her.”
Tears misted Emily’s eyes at that, and she nodded. “That means a lot. It’ll mean a lot to Cora, too.”
Cora, who had been busily draining the bottle, slurped the last sip of the milk, and a little white trail dribbled down her chin. Emily lifted the baby onto her shoulder, patting her back gently.
“What about you?” she asked suddenly.
“What about me?” he asked.
“Did you get married? Have a family?”
“No.” He shook his head slowly. “Never did.”
“Why not?” Emily fixed him with a curious stare, her hand still rhythmically patting Cora’s back. She blushed and shook her head. “Sorry, that was blunt.” The baby lifted her head and wriggled her legs, then dropped her face back into Emily’s neck.
“Why didn’t you?” he countered, and she shot him a grin.
“Touché, but I have good reason.”
“Oh?” He looked over at her, his interest piqued. “What’s your reason?”
She blushed and waved it away with her hand. “It doesn’t matter. The fact remains, I’m on my own, but I do have a family behind me, so I’ll be all right.”
Just then, there was a burp, and Emily looked over at her shoulder, making a face.
“I should have seen that coming,” she said with a grimace. There was a nice little patch of baby spit-up on her shoulder, starting to drip. It didn’t look comfortable. And he was getting too comfortable. She had a way of making him want to talk, and he knew well enough that he shouldn’t be going down this path.
“I should go and let you get cleaned up,” he said, pushing himself to his feet.
“I guess so....” She gently laid the baby back into the bassinet and turned her attention back toward him. Despite the soiled shirt, her eyes met his with a cheerful sparkle. “But this was nice.”
“It was,” he admitted, lulled by that stunning smile of hers.
As Greg made his way back to the front door, he realized something a little disturbing. He’d been looking forward to seeing her and getting this case out of his system, and now he found himself wondering how he might be able to see her again. Instead of closing it, he’d just stuck his foot in the door.
Chapter Three
A
s Emily pulled up to the little cemetery just outside of town, she could see her extended family already milling about, talking in small groups. She parked her SUV behind her parents’ sedan and sat there for a moment. Cora was asleep in her car seat in the back, and Emily looked at the tiny form, her pink tongue sticking out of her mouth. She was adorable, and she’d never remember today—the day her mother was buried. Part of Emily felt guilt for all of this—for not being Jessica, for being the stand-in mother and not the real thing.
Emily smiled wanly as she saw her grandmother tottering past with a cane. Her sixty-year-old son walked along next to her, a hand under her arm. This was what family did. They came together when they needed each other most.
As Emily got out of her vehicle and went around to unfasten Cora’s car seat, she noticed her mother walking in her direction. She was a plump woman with red dyed hair, wearing a black-and-white print dress.
“There you are,” her mother said as she bustled up. “And there is the little one....”
Her mother’s eyes misted, and her chin quivered a little as she looked down at sleeping Cora.
“I’m nervous,” Emily admitted quietly.
“Don’t be.”
“Is it crazy to feel guilty?”
“Yes.” Her mother nudged her teasingly, blinking back her tears. “You didn’t choose this, sweetheart. Jessica chose you. Feel honored.”
Emily nodded and lifted the car seat off the base. It was a lot heavier than just the baby, but she’d always seen mothers packing around car seats with babies inside, so she thought there must be some logic to it. As they walked together over the lush, green grass, Emily looked up at the gray, overcast sky. It was somber and threatening rain, a combination that seemed appropriate today.
“How is Uncle Hank?” Emily scanned the people already there, looking for Jessica’s father. His wife had passed away a couple of years ago from breast cancer, and now he’d lost his only daughter.
“He’s over there, with Aunt Eunice.”
Emily’s gaze traveled past one of her cousins with triplet toddlers she was trying to control, to her uncle, who stood a little ways off next to an older woman who was patting his arm. He looked weak and exhausted.
“Poor Uncle Hank....” Emily sighed. She saw him look up and notice her. “He probably wants to see Cora.”
They angled their steps in Hank’s direction, the soft sod sinking under their heels. The lines of graves were straight and solemn, drawing her gaze along them. All eyes seemed to be on Emily as she passed, but aside from a few waves of greeting, they seemed to sense where she was going and let her continue on her way.
“Isn’t that Steve?” Her mother looked across the cemetery. A man was bending down to talk to a little girl. It was her cousin Steve, all right, with his too-serious air that she used to tease him about when they were younger. His wife was slender and petite, and true to form, her navy blue dress matched the three little girls. They seemed to be just arriving, as the toddler was being strapped into a stroller by her father.
Emily was silent for a long moment, watching her cousin. He was a few years older than Emily, a very conservative, straightlaced man with a picture-perfect family. Sara still looked svelte and young, despite three pregnancies, and she had that gentle mother quality about her—the kind of woman you expect could kiss a boo-boo better and halt an escaping toddler in her tracks at the same time. She stood up straight and looked in Emily’s direction, but didn’t lift a hand in any kind of hello. Emily could feel the tension zipping toward her from all the way across the cemetery.
“Go on and see Uncle Hank,” her mother said. “I’ll give my condolences to your cousin.”
Emily nodded, and her mother gave her arm a quick squeeze before heading off in the other direction on her mission to intercept. A cool breeze picked up, carrying with it the electrical scent of threatening rain, and Emily shivered. She adjusted the knit blanket a little closer around Cora and took a deep breath.
Lord, I can feel the tension already,
she prayed silently
. I hate this.
As she made her way across the sod, an image rose up in her mind of the handsome chief of police. Somehow, the thought of him was comforting, and on a day like this, comfort seemed to be what they all needed. Uncle Hank looked up at Emily morosely as she came up to where he stood. He gave her a small smile of hello and looked down into the car seat. He stretched out a finger to stroke one little hand, then stood up straight again.
“She looks like her mother.”
“I thought so, too....” Emily blinked back the tears that misted her eyes. “I thought you might want to see her, Uncle Hank.”
“Thanks.”
“Why don’t you come by later?” Emily asked. “You come hold her anytime you feel like it.”
He nodded slowly, then swallowed hard. “I didn’t even know...”
“Did anyone?” Emily asked.
“I don’t think so. Why didn’t she tell us?”
Emily just shook her head. That was the million-dollar question.
“Well, the little one is here, and she’ll be much loved.” The lines in the older man’s face deepened as he looked down into Cora’s tiny face. “I wish June could have seen her.”
Emily felt her eyes brim with tears at the catch in his voice. “Are you going to be all right, Uncle Hank?”
“Oh—” he took a deep breath “—I’ll keep on keeping on, I suppose.”
“Cora needs you, too, you know.”
He nodded silently. “I still can’t believe she didn’t tell me. Not even when the baby was born.”
The pain he felt was more than loss; it was betrayal. Jessica had been a loved daughter, the girl who looked nothing like either parent, and more like a fairy left by the door. She was slender and beautiful, hair bright red and eyes deepest green. Her mother had often joked that if she hadn’t given birth to her herself, she wouldn’t have believed that they’d produced her. But the past few years had been hard on the family, and relationships had got strained.
“You were a good dad, Uncle Hank,” Emily said softly.
“But was I?” He turned his grief-stricken eyes onto Emily, and she had no answer for him. Emily hadn’t seen her cousin in several years, either, a small detail that meant little to a cousin but was heartbreaking for a parent.
“Hi, Dad.”
Emily turned to see Steve approaching quickly. He passed Emily without a glance and wrapped his arms around his father’s neck. They held each other for a long moment and Emily looked away, sensing their need for some privacy. She stepped back, not wanting to intrude, but as she did so, Steve released his father and looked toward Emily.
“Hi, Em,” he said. “Good to see you.”
“You, too. I’m sorry about Jessica.”
Steve nodded and gave a sad shrug. “This is the baby?”
He bent down over the car seat in Emily’s hand and looked at the tiny infant for a long, silent moment.
“Hi,” he whispered softly. Cora stirred in her sleep.
“She looks like Jessica, doesn’t she?” Emily asked.
Steve looked up at Emily, his expression unreadable. He pushed himself back to his feet and looked up as his wife and daughters approached. Sara came straight toward Emily and bent down to look into the car seat.
“Hi, Cora,” she whispered. Sara had perfectly straight, dark hair cut in a short bob. She gave Emily a sad smile. “This must be harder on you, Emily,” she said.
Emily wasn’t entirely sure what to say.
“A newborn is a big responsibility,” Sara went on, her voice low and sympathetic. “No sleep, the expense, the change in lifestyle...”
“It’s all right.”
“Well, it is when you have a husband to support you through it all. I can’t imagine doing it alone.”
“I’m handling it.”
“It’s been, what, a week?” Sara smiled wanly. “Trust me. I’ve done this three times. This is the easy part.”
With a smooth smile, Sara turned her attention to her father-in-law, putting her arms around him and crooning out her condolences. Emily took a deep breath. What were her responsibilities here?
“I’m just going to say hello to...” Emily started to edge away from the group, not even bothering to finish her sentence.
“Wait, Em.” It was Steve. He walked toward her, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Can we talk?”
“Sure.” Emily waited till he was at her side, then started walking back toward the rest of the family. Steve matched her pace.
“This can’t be easy for you.”
“That’s what Sara said.”
“Oh, come on, Em. You’re single. Do you ever want to get married? Finding a guy with a baby isn’t going to be easy.”
“Don’t worry yourself over my romantic life,” she retorted. “Look, Steve, I know this is really hard. None of us knew about this baby. Jessica is gone. It’s a hard time on the whole family.”
“No, it’s worse for me.”
“Of course. Jessica was your sister. I didn’t mean to imply—”
“And Cora is my niece. She’s only your—what—second cousin?”
The scent of the approaching rain was getting stronger now, and the wind started to pick up. She shivered and began to walk faster.
“What do you want, Steve?”
“She belongs with me and Sara.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re her closest relatives. You aren’t.”
“Jessica chose me. This wasn’t my idea. She named me Cora’s guardian in her will.”
Steve stopped, and Emily turned to face him. She could hear the low rumble of thunder far off in the distance and tears welled up in her eyes. What did he want from her? Did he expect her to just hand the baby over and walk away?
“You don’t want this.” Steve shook his head slowly, as if disappointed with a small child. “It might seem all romantic and sweet now, but babies are a huge amount of work. What about your career?”
“Let me worry about that, Steve. I’m a grown woman.”
“Fine. But when you change your mind, call me. I’ll come and get her.”
The dripping condescension in his voice was almost more than Emily could bear, and she turned around and walked away, moving toward the grave site. The service would begin soon, and they would all pay their last respects to Jessica Shaw.
When Emily looked back, she saw Sara staring after her with a strange intensity, the wind ruffling her short hair and her little girls standing at her knees. Uncle Hank didn’t seem to be noticing very much in his grief, and he was talking to Emily’s father, both men nodding sadly.
They expected to bring Cora home with them today,
she realized with a chill. Did Steve and Sara really think it would be that easy, to simply point out the hard work a baby would be and have her pass Cora off like a piece of luggage? That image of Chief Greg Taylor rose in her mind again, and she knew exactly who she needed to talk to—the one person without a personal interest in this.
“The service is going to start soon.” Emily looked up in relief to see the compassionate face of her mother. “Come on, sweetie.”
Together, they made their way with the rest of the family toward the grave site where the minister was waiting, the pages of his Bible fluttering in the rising wind. It was time to say their goodbyes.
* * *
Rain pelted the sidewalk outside Greg’s office window. The afternoon light turned almost dusky in the rainstorm, and he leaned his elbows on his desk and looked out at the downpour. The plains offered little shelter from a summer storm, and as the clouds gathered, the wind whistled through the buildings. The air smelled of electricity and wet earth, and he inhaled deeply, enjoying the finger of air that wriggled through the crack of the open window. It was an old building, the kind with windows that opened at the top, leaning back on a brass hinge, and today he was thankful for the connection to the outdoors.
It had been a long morning. Before coming into work, he’d dropped by the nursing home to see his mother. The dementia was worse lately. A few months ago she remembered him perfectly and would look up at him with a smile, but this morning she frowned at him in confusion.
“Why are the police here?” she asked. “Is everyone all right?”
He hated scaring her like that.
“Yes, ma’am,” he’d said softly. “Everything is fine. I’m sorry to disturb you.”
He knew better than to try to remind her of who he was. It would only upset her further—she would seem to remember for a moment, and then suddenly look fearful, wondering why an officer was in her room and what the bad news must be. She always associated police with bad news when she was confused.
One of the nurses had given him a sympathetic pat on the arm, promising to call him when she was more aware.
What he hated worse than scaring his own mother was the helplessness. As a cop, he was used to solving problems. He had the authority to stop bad things from happening, and he made sure he did that. He was a big man, muscular and tall, and he was accustomed to the automatic respect his physique demanded, but when it came to his mother, none of these things mattered. She didn’t see him as her protector; she saw him as a threat. He wanted to do something—fix it, if he could. He wanted to put his big, brawny body between his mother and the disease that snipped away at her memories, but he couldn’t.
Sitting at his desk, he’d been going through the mounds of paperwork that came with his position, but his mind kept slipping back to his mother. After his dad was gone, his mother had a lot more to worry about, raising two kids on her own. She went back to work as a secretary. It was a job she was good at, but it kept her away from home more often than she liked.
Greg and his sister, Lynn, generally looked out for each other after school. But during school hours, Richard Pike, one of the bigger guys in his class, decided it was his life’s mission to make Greg as miserable as possible. From his head being plunged into the toilet to being beaten up during recess, Greg’s school life had been misery. Then he’d come home to the empty house and he’d sit there watching whatever show was on, trying to forget about the ache in his heart from losing his dad, and trying not to think about the next day, when he’d have to go back to school and face Richard all over again. Times like those, all he wanted was a hug from his mom, but she wouldn’t be home from work for hours yet.