>
“Do you remember our baby?”
“Our baby?” Emma stared at the man who’d identified himself as her husband. The man with the deep, soothing voice who had whispered to her in the darkness.
“Yes…her name is Carly. Here, I’ll show you.” Almost frantically he took his wallet from his back pocket, pulled out a picture and handed it to her.
Emma’s hands shook as she studied the photo. Grant looked totally masculine, his arm draped around her. She cradled a beautiful infant in her arms.
But it was the tender smile of pride on her face that squeezed at her heart. She really had a child. And she was married.
But she had amnesia.
Forgotten Lullaby
Rita Herron
MILLS & BOON
Before you start reading, why not sign up?
Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!
Or simply visit
Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Rita Herron is a teacher, workshop leader and storyteller who loves reading, writing and sharing stories with people of all ages. She has published two nonfiction books for adults on working and playing with children, and has won the Golden Heart Award for a young adult story. Rita believes that books taught her to dream, and she loves nothing better than sharing that magic with others. She lives with her “dream” husband and three children, two cats and a dog in Norcross, Georgia.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Emma Wadsworth—A strange accident robbed her of her past; now she must find her future.
Grant Wadsworth—He’ll fight for his wife with the strongest weapon he has: love.
Kate Dillard—Did Emma’s loving sister like Grant far more than she’d ever admitted?
Martha Greer—The Wadsworths’ housekeeper has a dark secret.
Pete Landers—How far would he go to take Grant’s place?
Doug McGuire—Emma’s former employer and old friend is a charming man—but is he a criminal at heart?
Priscilla Weston—Do her career ambitions extend to after hours?
To my three great kids for all the precious memories:
Adam—I’ll never forget the camouflage suit you wore every day to kindergarten, the first time you hit a home run, all the emergency room visits, the teacher who thought you’d be president one day, the day you left home for college and the day you turned my pep talk into a challenge to try something new myself. I did, son—I started writing. Thanks to you.
Elizabeth—I’ll never forget racing from the bus stop to the house to get your blanket in kindergarten because you couldn’t leave home without it, the day we put the house up for sale and you colored the walls with red crayon, the day you set your first Junior National swimming time and won the State Championship meet, your first Homecoming dance, but most of all, your positive attitude and your never-ending beautiful smile.
Emily—I’ll never forget the mustard handprints on the refrigerator, the day the rabbit had babies (when you’d conveniently forgotten to tell us you had bred her), the posters you made when you wanted a big dog, the numerous awards you won in eighth grade, your first soccer goal and most of all, your wonderful independence and drive.
Love always,
Mom
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter One
Bright headlights appeared in Emma’s rearview mirror, almost blinding her. She sped up slightly, yet the car behind bore down on her tail. Suddenly uneasy, she adjusted the mirror to deflect the light. She hit a pothole and had to brake. Tires squealed behind her, and she clutched the steering wheel, afraid the other vehicle was going to hit her.
She grimaced, wishing he’d back off. The road was deserted, and too curvy for high speeds. Thank goodness she only had a few more miles to go and she’d be home with her baby and husband. Her sister Kate’s comments about Grant traveling all the time struck a chord of worry, and she fought the troubling feelings. She and her husband were happy—they were simply going through an adjustment phase with the new baby. All couples went through it. Didn’t they?
An image of Grant’s chic co-worker, Priscilla, hovered in her mind. So cool and sophisticated, hair perfect, body trim, lips painted a deep kiss-me red, Priscilla wouldn’t be caught dead looking as rumpled as Emma had since the baby had arrived. Emma and Grant needed to spend some time alone, quality time without their daughter in tow. Maybe they should hire a sitter, have a romantic evening alone, rekindle their romance—
She swerved to avoid another pothole. The vehicle behind her roared straight over it without even slowing. The woods flanking the road suddenly seemed eerily dark and lonely. A sprinkling of snow dusted the North Carolina highway and dotted the windshield, and tree branches swayed and dipped in the evening wind. She dragged her gaze from the shadowy woods, deciding she’d been watching too many late-night movies while feeding Carly.
Poor baby. Carly had cried with an earache all morning. Emma finally understood how much a mother could hurt for her child. Automatically her hand swept the front passenger seat for Carly’s prescription. Instead, she contacted a tube—of lipstick. She gripped the wheel tight with one hand and brought the tube up for inspection. Odd, it wasn’t a color she wore. It was red. Priscilla’s red. Kate’s warnings about men having affairs strummed through her conscience. No, Grant wouldn’t—
A horn blasted and the vehicle swerved around her, clipping her rear bumper. Panic streaked through her. She braked again. The guy had been following too close, but this…this was crazy. Was he drunk?
An oncoming set of headlights flashed in the bend of the road. Emma slowed so that the other vehicle—it looked like some sort of SUV—could pass. Instead, he grazed her again, and she skidded sideways toward the side of the road. She clenched the steering wheel as she fought to control the car, her heart pounding. The oncoming vehicle blasted its horn. Oh, God! Her car was going to collide with an