“This is Marissa,” Ben said, not knowing that Carolyn had devoured the pictures of him and his new bride in the newspaper six years ago. Nor had she been able to keep from looking at the photos of Marissa in magazines over the years. Marissa in swimsuits, evening gowns, lingerie—it had hurt. For some reason, every photo of his glamorous wife had stung, maybe because Carolyn knew that beside Marissa’s bright light, she was a nondescript shadow.
“Hello, Marissa,” Carolyn said. “I’m Carolyn St. Clair.”
“I know who you are,” Marissa returned, her tone not warm, but not cool, either. Matter-of-fact. They assessed each other wordlessly, then the little girl Marissa held by the hand leaped into Ben’s lap and they broke eye contact.
Carolyn was dead certain she’d be taking a hiatus from doughnuts with her hot tea from now on. And maybe she’d make an appointment for some highlights, start running on the track at the high school in the evenings…
“Carolyn,” Ben said, his voice gentle, “this is my daughter, Lucy.”
And his daughter’s bright smile sent all the misgivings she’d been nursing right out of her head. “Hello, Lucy. You sure are pretty.”
“I know.” She grinned at Carolyn. “Everyone says I look like Mommy.”
Carolyn smiled. “You do.”
“But I’m going to look like my daddy when I grow up.” She turned in her father’s lap to brush the hair from his eyes. Then she kissed him on the nose and patted his cheek with a soft, pudgy hand. “I’m going to marry my daddy when I grow up.”
Ben’s laugh was quiet and proud. Marissa looked at her designer fingernails. Well, that makes three of us in the same room who have considered marrying Ben Mulholland at one time, Carolyn thought wryly. Lucy’s childish wish was the most impractical, but it was obvious she had every centimeter of Ben’s heart, and was guaranteed to keep it that way.
“I need a half hour or so,” Ben said over Lucy’s shoulder as he looked up at Marissa.
“Oh, Daddy!” Lucy protested, clearly unwilling to detach herself from her big, strong father.
Marissa nodded. Her gaze flicked to Carolyn as she reached to take Lucy’s hand and guide her off her father’s lap. “It was nice meeting you, Carolyn.”
“You, too.”
“Ben has a lot of faith in you,” Marissa murmured. “I hope you can help us.”
Help us. The plural caught Carolyn off guard. This was, then, a family situation that had brought Ben to her. Nothing she needed to fear. The past was not going to jump out at her with painful memories. “I’ll do my best,” she told Marissa sincerely. “Although I have yet to hear the situation, I certainly hope Finders Keepers can resolve it.”
Marissa nodded, her eyes dark with something Carolyn couldn’t define before she turned back to her husband. “Ben, my plane leaves in a few hours.”
“I’ll have you at the airport on time. Bye, honey.” He kissed Lucy on the side of the cheek. She patted his face and then walked to the door with her elegant mother.
Carolyn glanced down as the door closing behind them. The pain she’d so determinedly avoided suddenly flayed her. “She’s beautiful, Ben,” she said automatically, meaning Lucy but knowing the word encompassed his wife, as well.
“Lucy is my soul’s joy.” He leaned forward and Carolyn’s gaze involuntarily rose to his face. “She means the world to me. I can’t even tell you how much I love my daughter.” It seemed that the earnestness left his eyes for a moment as he focused inward. Then he said slowly, “She has leukemia, Carolyn.”
Denial sprang into Carolyn’s mind. “Oh, Ben!”
She didn’t know what else to say. I’m sorry wouldn’t cut it. How terrifying! was all wrong. Why Lucy? Why Ben? Why his mother and his child?
He put his head down, a slow surrender to pain, and sheltered his face with splayed fingers.
But she’d seen the tear. She heard his heart breaking. She’d seen the panic in his eyes, in Marissa’s eyes.
Once again, Ben wanted a yes from her. This time, there was no way she could deny him. She took a deep, steadying breath and reached out her hand to cover the clenched fist he’d braced on his knee.
“I’m going to get you a soda from the kitchen,” she said softly, knowing he needed a moment to pull himself back together. “And then you and I will get to work on whatever it is that brought you to Finders Keepers.”
“I need to find a miracle,” Ben said, his voice rasping with raw emotion.
She squeezed his hand briefly and rose from her seat, not at all certain she was the one he should have come to for a miracle.
* * *
“WHEN MOM WAS in the hospital, she was doing a lot of walking down memory lane.” Ben had enjoyed hearing about his mother’s childhood. He’d already known a lot about her past life, but it had brought them closer together to share the walk she needed to take. “In the final days, she focused on Lucy, and I probably don’t have to tell you that Mom was intense. Lucy was…special.” He smiled, somehow self-deprecatingly. “She’s special to me, too, of course, but Lucy and Mom were really connected.”
“Grandparents occupy a magical place in children’s lives,” Carolyn murmured.
He frowned, realizing he’d heard her say that a long time ago. It had been six years since they’d broken up, yet there was so much he could still remember about Carolyn. She’d been important to him in a way no one else had ever been. Maybe the innocence of youth had deepened the level of understanding between them. Tightened their connection.
It had been difficult to come here today, to face the woman he’d loved so deeply. No man willingly sought out a woman who’d rejected him. Avoiding pain was what a man did best. He would never have married Marissa if he hadn’t been running from his shattered emotions. But his mother seemed to think Carolyn could help Lucy. Heaven only knew, what he was going to ask of her was impossible. Unthinkable.
Carolyn was a woman, not a savior.
“In the hospital, Mom revealed to me that I’d had a twin. She gave birth to two children, both boys.” He swallowed. It still felt strange to repeat his mother’s incredible words. “The other child—“ he couldn’t say my brother “-was stillborn, according to the nurse who attended her.”
Carolyn’s hand flew to make a notation, then her gaze met his again. He saw calm in her eyes, none of the raging fear and panic he felt. Her acceptance of his pronouncement allowed him to continue.
“At the time Mom delivered, apparently a black market baby ring was in operation in Texas, ghastly as that sounds. Newborns have always fetched top dollar. Mom had two, and she believes that one of them may have been…stolen.”
“But if one was stillborn, then why would the baby have been stolen?”
“Mom believes she heard the cry of another infant in the room. Two babies crying, but only for a few seconds. She was groggy from medication—even then women were often put to sleep to have children.”
“I know. My mother said it was wonderful to wake up and be handed a baby.”
He nodded. “Mom says she was already coming out of the anaesthesia when she heard the crying. But when she was told that one of her children had been stillborn, she didn’t suspect that anyone would lie to her about it. She was young, seventeen, and my father was away at a farmer’s market in Fort Worth, and…”
“She was overwhelmed and frightened. And too young to question what she’d heard.”
“Right.” A sigh escaped him. “I won’t tell you that I embraced this story of hers when she told me. I know