Susan Crosby

The Baby Gift


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Banning? Whose child do you carry?

      And why the hell are you here in Lost and Found?

      Feeling the chief’s eyes on her like the bright beam of a spotlight, she stared at her driver’s license. Gina Banning. She repeated the name in her head a few times, testing it. Twenty-two years old. Five foot four, 120 pounds. Without baby, obviously.

      Eric. Her husband’s name, according to a health plan card with both their names on it. She spun her wedding ring around her finger.

      “I can’t picture a man’s face,” she said to J.T. and the doctor, who both waited silently as she examined the contents of her purse. “Isn’t that odd? Shouldn’t I have some recollection of my husband? And why is my checking account in my name only? Marriage means sharing everything.”

      “More important,” the chief said, “why would you leave home when you’re less than a month away from giving birth? I’ll head over to my office and run a missing person’s report—”

      “No! Please. What if I’m running from something?” Her voice echoed, loud and desperate, intensifying the pounding in her head. “Isn’t that reason enough not to alert someone where I am?”

      “I have a duty, Gina.”

      “I’m of age. And isn’t it your first duty to make sure I’m kept safe?”

      “Someone is probably worried about you. Your family—”

      “I don’t feel married.” The statement caught her off guard, even the mournful tone of it. She was married to Eric. He must be the father of the baby moving comfortingly inside her. What could have driven her from home? From him? “What if I end up on the news?”

      “Don’t borrow trouble,” the doctor said, placing his hands on hers. “You’re getting all worked up, which is the last thing you need. Your only job at the moment is to get some rest. This has been a traumatic night for you, but your memory is going to come back, and we’ll figure everything out as soon as it does.”

      “But where can I go?”

      “You go with me,” J.T. said.

      She shook her head again and again. “I can’t impose on you. Surely there’s a hotel.”

      “No hotel. No bed and breakfast.”

      “I don’t feel right…”

      “We have no idea what you’re up against, Gina. It’s safer this way.” No other option was reasonable, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. Certainly he didn’t hold her responsible for Eric’s failings, but she was linked with him, this widow of a man he despised—the man responsible for the nightmares that forced J.T. to quit the department, the nightmares that had haunted him long after.

      The only consideration now was her need for protection. He would protect her, no matter what the consequences. But would there be a price to pay when she remembered him? One more reason for her to hate him, when she found out he’d kept her identity from her?

      His brother must be laughing from heaven. Chiding. In his lucid moments Mark had accused him of living his first life in the days of chivalry, then never stepping fully into the modern world. “Face it,” Mark had said often. “Chivalry’s dead.”

      Well, J.T. believed in living by his own code. If that meant giving up the precarious tranquility he’d finally found, in order to offer peace of mind to an innocent woman about to give birth, so be it.

      There were worse fates. And the decision got easier just looking at her pale face, at the strain he saw in her eyes. He owed her for the pain he’d caused, no matter how righteous his reasons had been.

      Deputy nudged him with his muzzle. J.T. realized that Max had helped Gina into her coat, and they were waiting for him.

      After she was buckled into his car, he headed around to the driver’s side. Max stopped him at the rear of the vehicle.

      “Are you sure you can handle this?”

      The quiet concern in his voice gave J.T. pause. “I have to, Max.”

      “There are plenty of people who would take her in.”

      “I would worry.” He pulled up his sheepskin collar to warm his ears. “This is the best solution.”

      “She’s more than just the widow of an old partner. I can see that.”

      “Leave it alone.” Okay, so he’d been drawn to her all those years ago. To her laughter and sweetness. To the adoring glances toward Eric. She was everything he’d wanted but didn’t dare to wish for.

      Eric Banning hadn’t deserved her.

      “I’ll stop by tomorrow,” Max said, resting his hand on J.T.’s shoulder. “Call me if she shows any signs at all of going into labor, or if her headache gets worse. Or if the moon turns purple.”

      J.T. smiled. “Wondering if I was paying attention?”

      Max made a noncommittal sound, then took a couple of steps back. “She’ll try to maintain her independence. It seems extremely important to her.”

      “I’ll let her think she’s in charge.”

      “I’m not some helpless female,” Gina called out the car window.

      Both men turned in surprise. J.T. hadn’t heard the window go down.

      “This ought to be entertaining,” Max murmured.

      Hot air blasted J.T. as he climbed into the car. He started to adjust the heater to a more comfortable level, then hesitated. “You warm enough?” he asked.

      “I don’t need to be coddled.”

      The kitten had transformed into a tigress. He sent her a curious look. She stared straight out the window.

      “I appreciate your giving me a place to stay, and I’ll reimburse you for any expenses you incur. But I’m not an invalid. I’m not incompetent. And I’m certainly not witless. I am confused. Please don’t make it worse by treating me like a child.” She drew a sharp breath. “I’ve said that to someone before. I was mad then, too.”

      He remembered the moment as if it were yesterday.

      She went silent as they drove the short distance to his house, then said suddenly, “My maiden name was Benedetto.” She pressed a hand to her mouth and looked at him. “How do I know that? And I have brothers and sisters. I remember them. I remember!”

      He pulled into the garage, then angled toward her in time to see her push her fingers against her forehead, a signal he’d come to recognize.

      It occurred to him that she might remember him before she remembered whoever she was running from—or even before she recalled her late husband. He eyed her thoughtfully. Oh, yeah. She was bound to be plenty mad at being kept in the dark. Added to whatever had driven her from home in the first place, there could be bitter consequences all around.

      But weren’t some memories best left buried? If he’d had the chance to forget some things forever…

      And yet it was his duty to help her remember, even as he hoped she never did.

      He opened his car door. “Don’t push it, Gina. It’ll all come back on its own.”

      J.T. helped her out of the car, keeping a hand under her elbow as they entered the house. He looked around, trying to see it from her perspective. He’d banished a lot of his frustrations with a saw and hammer while turning this house into a home.

      She didn’t seem to look at her surroundings, however. Exhaustion lined her face. He guided her into the living room and settled her in a chair.

      “Just relax for a minute while I get your stuff out of my car and make the guest room ready for you, okay?”

      He thought she nodded.

      “Okay,