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“Shh,” Polly crooned softly. She cradled little Laurel, maneuvering the blanket over the flimsy hospital gown—but not before Reeve got another glimpse of an exposed curve of breast. The sight sent a wave of heat immediately to his groin.
What was wrong with him? Even if he hadn’t been here as her doctor, he was a professional.
Polly cuddled the tiny, swaddled body close. “Hush, Laurel,” she pleaded. “You’re all right, little one.” As the baby’s wails grew more frantic, Polly looked helplessly at Reeve. This was probably her first baby, and the new mother was still a neophyte. She didn’t look very old, after all—maybe midtwenties. Her complexion was nearly as smooth as her daughter’s, and despite the bump on her forehead she didn’t need any makeup to appear beautiful. Her nose was narrow and perfect, her eyes large with a thick fringe of lashes, her mouth just a little too wide.
“Here,” Reeve said. He repositioned the infant on Polly’s shoulder, then patted the baby’s back gently. The receiving blanket was a soft spun acrylic, warm from being against Polly and her daughter. In a moment, Laurel gave a small burp.
Polly laughed. It was a relieved, merry sound that made Reeve’s heart fill. “I should have figured that out.”
“You will the next time.” Reeve hesitated. “I imagine one of the staff has already gone over this with you, but I understand they weren’t able to locate your family. Can we call someone for you?” Your husband, he wanted to ask. Where is he, and why did he let you travel alone when you were so close to term?
She blanched as white as the sheet behind her, and her gray eyes grew as round and frightened as a captive doe’s. “You can’t.” She sounded almost frantic. Then her lips curled in an unsuccessful attempt at a smile. Her voice was much calmer. Even. Too even, as though she were reciting a memorized line. “Actually, I don’t have any family to notify. I was orphaned as a child, and my husband and I were divorced months ago because of my pregnancy.”
It didn’t take a psychiatrist’s credentials to know she was lying.
Reeve couldn’t breathe suddenly, as though someone had put a tourniquet around his windpipe. He felt his own color deepen. “I see. Well, good luck to you, Ms. Black.” He turned and strode toward the door. He had to get out of there.
It wasn’t his problem. Not this time. But he still felt as though he had been gut punched.
He heard a soft noise behind him, like someone crying.
None of his business, he told himself. But he found himself turning back as he reached the door.
Polly held her squirming baby against her. Tears ran down her cheeks beneath tightly shut eyes, and she was shuddering.
Reeve had to stop himself from taking a step toward her. He wouldn’t comfort her. He didn’t want to.
If she were keeping this baby away from her husband, Reeve could only despise her.
Unless she had a damned good reason.
Chapter Two
She was free. That was all that mattered.
Then why had Dr. Snyder’s snapping at her for no apparent reason caused her to break down? He meant nothing to her.
Except that he was her hero. He had saved her life—hers and Laurel’s. His had been the first kind voice she had heard in ages. And now he had turned against her. The knot in her stomach tightened more at the thought.
She shouldn’t feel particularly bad about him. That had happened a lot lately—people turning out to be quite different from what they had seemed. Her husband. Her own family.
Tears brimmed again in her eyes, but she refused to cry anymore.
She was all alone. Unless she could get to Lorelei, and even that possibility was fraught with danger, for anyone hunting her might recall Lorelei as her college roommate and realize she was heading there.
Polly sighed raggedly and hugged Laurel closer, inhaling her sweet-sour baby aroma. The movement reminded her of her injuries, since she still ached all over. Laurel made a soft protesting noise, and Polly rearranged her more comfortably, stroking the perfect, pudgy smoothness of the skin of her arm.
Polly. Polly Black. Thank heavens she had remembered to call herself that even when she had been most confused.
“Hi. How are we doing here?” The nurse with short platinum hair and a happy demeanor stood in the doorway. Nurse Meltzer.
Polly forced herself to smile. “Just fine.”
“Great!” The nurse bustled into the room and arranged the bedclothes around mother and baby. “She’s a tiny one, but she’s doing wonderfully. I know she was delivered early because of the accident. When was she really due?”
Polly hesitated. In case the news was out, she didn’t want anyone to associate her with the woman she had been. “Oh, right around now. My mother told me she gave birth to small babies, too. My sister and me.” She didn’t have a sister, of course. Just two stepbrothers, and both of them had—Well, never mind that.
“I see,” said Nurse Meltzer. “Lunch will be wheeled around in about an hour, and the TV’s remote control is on that little table beside you. Need anything for pain?”
Polly considered the idea. Her aches were bearable, and she needed to stay as alert as possible. “No, thanks.”
“Then can I get you anything else?”
A new life, Polly thought. No, she was taking care of that herself. But she knew what she really wanted. “Does anyone have copies of newspapers for the last few days?” She sought a plausible explanation. “I’m a comics addict, and I want to catch up on my favorites for the time I’ve been traveling.” Flimsy. She knew it. Her mind groped for names of famous comic strips in case the nurse asked which she liked.
Fortunately, she didn’t ask, didn’t even look suspicious. “Housekeeping’s usually good at tossing stuff like that,” she said. “But I’ll check.”
“Thanks, Nurse Meltzer,” said Polly.
“Frannie,” said the nurse. “I don’t like formalities. As long as you don’t mind me calling you Polly.”
“I don’t mind at all.” As long as you don’t call me— No, she wasn’t even going to let herself think that other name. It belonged in the past.
“We’ll take little Laurel into the nursery soon, too, so you can get some rest.”
Polly hugged the baby closer. “I want her to stay.”
“But after a C-section and your accident…well, we’ll see how you do. We usually get new C-section mothers up to walk by now, but because of your other injuries, we’ve left you alone. That’s why you got a private room, too, by the way. A little place like this doesn’t have many singles. But we’ll have you up and about soon. I’ll check with Dr. Fletcher.”
“Okay.” But Polly half wished Reeve Snyder was her doctor, not just Laurel’s. They’d been having such a friendly conversation, and then…
“But Dr. Snyder is concerned about you, too,” Frannie continued, as though reading her mind. “Not only did he help you on the road, but since he last checked on you, he’s been asking a lot of questions.”
Polly’s heart leaped into her throat and sat there pounding. She didn’t want anyone to ask questions about her, not even the kind and handsome doctor. Especially not Reeve Snyder, who had noticed her. She wanted to be an ant on the counter, a crumb on the floor. Totally inconspicuous. “Oh,” she said as calmly as she could, even mustering a smile she hoped looked nonchalant. “What kind of questions?”
“About your family, whether anyone had been able to tell them about your accident.”
Then he didn’t believe her. Polly’s muscles tensed, hurting her, and she started to shake. What was she going to do?
“One of the ladies in the office tried to find a phone number to go along with the address on your driver’s license,” Frannie continued, “but she didn’t come up with anything.” Her tone was quizzical.
Polly made herself take a deep, calming breath. She tried to sound nonchalant. “It’s an old address. I lived temporarily in an apartment after the divorce.” Funny how easily the lies poured out. Not long ago, she had been the kind of person who almost always told the truth. “I was on my way west to stay with a friend while I had the baby.” That, at least, was accurate.
“I see. Do you want us to call your friend?”
Polly shook her head. “No. She wasn’t expecting me at any particular time, and I wouldn’t want her to worry.” She wasn’t expecting me at all, Polly thought.
“Okay. Here, let’s make you more comfortable.” The nurse took Laurel from Polly and laid her gently in a bassinet beside the bed. “I’ll go check on those newspapers. If you need anything else, just ring.” She gestured toward the call button on the stand beside the bed.
“Thanks.”
As the nurse left the room, Polly sighed heavily, letting her head sink as she finally relaxed. Then she glanced at the baby. Laurel was napping peacefully, sucking a little in her sleep. Polly smiled tenderly at the tiny form. Her baby. A small, but gigantic miracle.
She would do anything to keep Laurel from harm.
She had already done much more than she’d ever imagined herself capable of.
Maybe it was time to go.
She looked around. A door and window were the only means of escape. She didn’t know what floor this room was on. And she was still hooked up to an IV. There was no easy flight from here. And she still felt rotten.
She supposed this was a typical hospital room, small and starkly white, with the bed in the center. At least the antiseptic smell wasn’t overpowering. Polly heard voices and footsteps as people walked down the hall—other mothers with new babies?
Someone looking for her?
She shuddered. No, no one would know she was here.
But Reeve had been asking questions, even though she’d told him she had no family. He might give her away.
Not intentionally. He had saved her. He had, for the most part, acted sympathetic. Surely he was just curious. Trying to help. He wouldn’t put her in jeopardy now, if he knew better.
Unless…She shook her head so sharply that pain shot behind her injured forehead, and she groaned softly. Reeve Snyder couldn’t know her family. Not way out here.
She couldn’t let paranoia get the better of her.
She didn’t dare forget she was always in danger.
For the moment, she was trapped. But as soon as she was well enough, she would leave this place.
Awkwardly, despite her soreness and the IV in her arm, she reached out to pick up the TV remote. It was midafternoon, between most news broadcasts. Fortunately, the hospital had cable. Keeping the volume low, she channel surfed till she found a cable news channel, where two commentators discussed the latest Middle East peace talks. Polly pressed the mute button and settled back in the bed.
She awoke a short while later when the nurse returned, arms filled with newspapers. “Couldn’t find them all,” she said. “But I think most of the comic sections are here.”
Comic…oh, yes. That had been her excuse. “Thanks.”
“In case you want to know more about the area, I brought the community paper, too—the Selborn Peak Standard. It’s got mostly store ads and classifieds, but it’s trying to get a reputation for local news stories.”
For the next half hour, Polly poured through the papers, focusing on the Denver Post. One issue was dated the day after the event that had made her flee her home. None of them carried anything about it.
Maybe that wasn’t surprising. Colorado was a long way from Connecticut. Still, what had happened, and to whom, could easily have made national news—if her family had so chosen. The way they decided to play things would be a message to her—provided that she could figure out the right interpretation.
If nothing got into the news, that would mean they had determined to keep it as much of a nonevent as they could. They would want her to return home as though nothing had happened. As long as she stayed quiet and became a good little girl once more, everything would be fine.
If the story were publicized, though, she would have to see how it was handled to determine the message. And if—
A knock sounded on the door, and she jumped a little, startled. She looked up to find Dr. Reeve Snyder standing there.
His tall form filled the doorway. He was again dressed in a lab coat that did nothing to hide the width of his shoulders. Its bright whiteness set off the gingery color of his thick, neatly combed hair.
For a physician who wasn’t her doctor, he certainly showed up a lot.
And for a woman who didn’t want any connection with anyone, who wanted no questions asked about her, she certainly was glad to see him. Polly found herself smiling warmly despite the way he had left earlier.
“Mind if we come in?” he asked. “I want to introduce you to someone.”
“Sure, Dr.—uh, Reeve.”
She tried to interpret the look on his face as he stood at the door. The steep angles of his dark ginger eyebrows seemed to signify anger, yet there was a longing in his eyes.
Strange, Polly thought. And wrong.
She of all people shouldn’t try to read others’ minds from their faces. She had been so mistaken before.
Their eyes met then, his a deep, golden brown. The shadows disappeared for a moment. There was something in his expression that seemed to toss a silken line between Polly and him, connecting them.
No. That couldn’t be. She made herself blink, and the connection was gone. She looked down at the newspapers beside her. How ridiculous she was being! He was the doctor who had saved Laurel and her. He probably saved a life every morning before breakfast, two more on Sundays. If he looked or sounded familiar, it didn’t mean anything. She was nothing special to him.
When she dared to glance up again, he had turned to say something to the person behind him. Her heart skipped a beat. What if whomever he brought was…
Silly. She was way off in the wilds of Colorado, for heaven’s sake. And Reeve’s presence would be a buffer, no matter who he was talking to.
Keeping her voice low so as not to wake the baby, Polly tried to put her nervousness aside. “Sorry things are such a mess, but I’ve just been reading.” She pushed aside some newspapers and smoothed the sheet over her awkwardly short hospital gown, wishing she had a long robe on instead.
Not that it mattered, of course. Nothing had passed between them before. Yet, for that one moment, his gaze had seemed to wrap around and hug her.
How absurd she was being!
“Glad you’re feeling up to a little reading.” Reeve finally strode into the room, an appealing sureness to his walk.
The man accompanying him was much shorter than him, and his T-shirt and tight, stained blue jeans revealed a wiry build. “This is Ernie Pride,” Reeve said. “He’s the one who saw you go off the road and called me.”
Polly offered her hand to Ernie, ignoring the soreness the motion caused. His grip was strong, and she thought she smelled a whiff of paint. “Thanks,” she said sincerely. “From both of us.” She gestured toward the bassinet where Laurel slept.
“You’re welcome.” Ernie bent to look at the baby. “She’s a little beauty, isn’t she?”
Polly beamed.
“Bet her daddy’s going to be right proud of her,” Ernie continued.
Polly felt her smile freeze, and she darted a glance at Reeve. His expression remained blank, but she could sense disapproval radiating from him like heat from a sun-baked sidewalk. Why should that bother her so much? She didn’t care what he thought.
She forced herself to shrug. “Oh, her daddy divorced me when I became pregnant. She’s just my baby.” And that would be the way it would stay, Reeve Snyder and his unexplained displeasure with her notwithstanding.
No matter how badly—and incongruously—that displeasure hurt her.
“I’d be surprised at any father who wouldn’t want to know about the birth of his child,” Reeve said. His tone was mild, but his eyes had narrowed, and a shadow again darkened them. “Don’t you think someone ought to inform him?”
Like you? Polly thought, beginning to panic. This angry, curious man might be trying to find the baby’s father—and in the process he could learn something about her. And that could only end in disaster.
