me, it’s ancient history. Are you going to feed me or what?”
She shifted Ally to one hip and linked her arm through Gary’s. “Right this way, handsome.”
As they crossed to the spread of appetizers and desserts, Gary fought to center his attention on the two women who loved him—the one at his side and the mini-woman she cradled in her arms.
If he took the Los Angeles job, these two would be what he’d miss most. Any time he seriously considered the position, it was the thought of leaving his family that made him hesitate.
Sophie Markham, on the other hand, would be someone he’d gladly leave behind. Her image flickered across his mind’s eye, and his tightening gut belied his tough thoughts.
Sophie Markham—the one woman who had made it quite clear years before that she did not love him, nor would she ever.
He worked to shove her image away, but his efforts were futile.
Seeing Sophie tonight had done nothing but sharpen the image that had never been far from Gary’s mind since he’d seen her last.
Ancient history?
Not so far as his heart—and pride—were concerned.
But there was no need for anyone but him to ever know the truth.
SOPHIE RUFFLED THE LAYERS of her short hair and braced herself, flipping open the cover of the folder she’d filed away five years ago.
Immediately after Becca and Robin’s deaths, she’d pored over every news article that mentioned the fire. She’d hounded the local police and fire departments. She’d been a woman obsessed, dumbstruck by grief and emotional loss.
She drew in a deep breath and held it, unsure whether she was ready to open the door to that pain again.
Careless Smoking Claims Life of Mother and Infant Daughter.
The words cut through her cleaner than any knife ever could. Sophie squeezed her eyes shut, then forced them open, willing herself to revisit that horrible night. Willing herself to reread every single word. Every note she’d made from her interviews of those at the scene.
Every word.
Somewhere here there might be a clue, might be something she’d missed. She couldn’t afford not to open herself to the old pain.
For five years, she’d accepted her sister and niece were gone. She’d accepted she was now alone, the last living Markham of her family tree. She’d given Becca and Robin a joint funeral befitting royalty, even though Robin’s casket had been empty.
The investigators had explained a fire as intense and long-burning as the one that had destroyed Becca’s home could have easily destroyed a baby’s body and bones. But what if someone had saved Robin from the flames?
What if?
The image of Ally Alexander’s unique birthmark flashed through Sophie’s mind, and she scrambled for the album she kept safely tucked in her nightstand drawer. Robin’s baby album.
She lifted the small object from the drawer, tracing a finger across the yellow duck that graced the cover. Sophie cracked open the treasured collection of snapshots and smiled down at the luminous face that met her gaze. The navy-blue eyes. The dark brown hair. The pert little nose.
Her throat tightened as she flipped through the images of her niece until she found what she’d been searching for. The close-up of Robin’s birthmark.
A perfect butterfly.
Sophie inhaled sharply, squinting at the photo.
Could two children possibly have such an identical mark? Of course, it might be possible. But Ally Alexander not only had the identical mark, she also had the same coloring and was similar in age to what Robin would be were she alive.
And she’d been adopted.
Was it possible?
Sophie swallowed hard, thinking of the series of articles Gary Barksdale had written for the Philadelphia Inquirer on the kidnapping and recovery of a local girl. The child had been six months old when she’d been kidnapped and four years old when she’d been reunited with her family.
He’d be the perfect person to help her sort through her suspicions and questions about identification, aside from the fact she’d be talking about his cherished niece.
Anxiety battled for its place among the tangle of emotions in her gut.
Gary Barksdale.
Seeing him tonight had been a reality check.
Since they’d split up, she’d worked with a vengeance, first at graduating college with top honors, then at landing a job with WNJZ.
She’d allowed herself to feel the pain, the joys and the triumphs of the stories she covered, yet she’d never let herself become close to anyone after her sister’s death.
Not a coworker. Not a friend. Not a lover.
Thoughts of the brief romance she’d shared with Gary rushed into her brain and she warmed instinctively. Her involvement with him had been heady, wonderful and foolish.
Breaking it off had been the smartest move she’d ever made. Watching her sister’s abusive relationship a short while later had convinced her she’d made the right move.
Once Robin had been born, Becca had wisely kicked out the man she’d been involved with— Robin’s father. He’d threatened violence on more than one occasion and after Becca had filed a restraining order—at Sophie’s urging—he’d thankfully disappeared from their lives.
Becca had moved back to the Philadelphia region, ready to make a fresh start with her gorgeous daughter. Sophie had been ready to do whatever her sister and niece needed. Anything.
Tears swam in her vision and she blinked them away.
Anything.
Then everything had changed, and the sister and niece who were her world were gone. Forever.
Or so she’d thought.
She might be grasping at the longest shot of her life, but she had to see it through. She owed that much to her sister’s memory.
Her reporter’s instinct wouldn’t rest until she fully explored the possibilities, and as much as she didn’t want to face the man again, she knew exactly where to start.
Chapter Two
Gary pulled open the door to the diner, pausing for a beat to gather himself. He’d been pushing an afternoon deadline when Sophie called. He’d asked her to give him an hour to finish up. He should have asked for two. Maybe then he could have cleaned up a bit.
He ran a hand up through his close-cropped hair then down over the stubble on his jaw, catching himself in the move.
So what if he looked as if he hadn’t slept at all last night? He hadn’t. The news came first. Sophie knew that. Hell, she lived the life as much as he did, only she had to do it live in front of millions of viewers.
She waved from a booth along the far wall of the quaint room and Gary couldn’t help but notice how slender she’d become—not that she’d ever been heavy—but back in the day, the woman had had curves. Serious curves.
He grinned to himself as he crossed the worn linoleum floor, picturing her long brown ponytail shoved up into a baseball cap, her U of D jersey tucked into a pair of tattered jeans, white high-top sneakers on her feet.
What a sight she’d been back then.
Sophie stood and extended her hand.
What a sight she was now.
Gary bypassed the handshake and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. She blinked and a flush of color spread up her face.
She glanced down at the table, apparently