Wanted: Father for Her Baby: Keeping Baby Secret / Five Brothers and a Baby / Expecting Brand's Baby. BEVERLY BARTON
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a deep, cleansing breath and replied, “I don’t know the answer to that either. We may find out tomorrow. Or next week. Or maybe never.” She reached out and grabbed Leenie’s shoulders. “But no matter how long it takes, do not give up. Don’t ever let anyone convince you to give up.”
Before Leenie could respond, Kate released her and walked away, mumbling something about needing to go to the bathroom as she disappeared down the hall.
Leenie sank down into the nearest chair, leaned over, propped her elbows on her knees and cupped her face with her open palms. Sitting there alone, the house eerily quiet, she said one more prayer.
Please, dear God, keep Andrew safe and bring him home to me. Home to me and Frank.
Kate handed Moran a cup of coffee, then poured one for herself and sat down across the kitchen table from him. “Where did Frank go?” she asked.
“For a walk down the street. He said to tell you he’d be back in a little while.”
Kate studied Dante Moran, a dark, compellingly handsome man, with danger written all over him. She didn’t think she’d ever met such a cool character and she’d known her share of self-confident, powerful men. Her ex-husband had been rich, powerful and arrogant in a way only someone born and bred into wealth and power can be. Most of the time she managed not to think about Trent Winston. Trenton Bayard Winston IV. But this kidnapping case had brought back all the old and painful memories. It was only natural that she’d think about Trent, wasn’t it, and wonder how he was doing? She hadn’t seen him in nearly eleven years. Not since—
“How’s she holding up?” Moran nodded toward the living room.
“Dr. Patton? She’s doing okay, considering her child is missing and that child’s father is trying to help her and probably saying and doing all the wrong things.”
“Men are like that.” Moran’s lips twitched with a hint of humor.
“Yes, you are. All of you.”
“Including your ex?”
“How’d you know—You didn’t, did you? Not until I reacted. And before you ask, I do not want to talk about him or about it.”
“It?” Moran cocked an inquisitive eyebrow.
“It. The divorce. What about you, Moran—got an ex-wife and a less than pleasant divorce you don’t want to talk about?”
“No marriages. No divorces.”
“Hmm-mmm.”
“And before you ask—”
“Why is a guy who’s decidedly over thirty-five never been married?”
“Yeah, that’s the question I don’t want you to ask.” He actually grinned.
“Being a woman, my guess would be either unrequited love and you’re still hoping to eventually woo and win her…or you loved and lost and—” A flicker of something incomprehensible danced in Moran’s black eyes, coming and going so quickly that she could have imagined it. But she hadn’t. Loved and lost. That was it. Moran’s it that he couldn’t bear to talk about, the way her divorce from Trent was her unbearable it.
Moran sipped on his coffee. Kate did the same.
The phone rang and both of them tensed.
He got up and rushed into the living room. Kate quickly followed. Leenie stood by the phone, allowing it to ring, and looked to Moran for direction the minute she saw him. He nodded and motioned for her to answer the phone.
Although Leenie’s hand trembled as she lifted the receiver, her voice was steady when she said, “This is Dr. Lurleen Patton.” Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. She gasped, then responded, “No, thank you, I’m not interested in a free vacation.” She slammed down the receiver.
Kate released the breath she’d unknowingly been holding. “It’s after five. Why don’t I put together some sandwiches for us?”
“I—I’ll help you,” Leenie offered. “God knows I need something to do. I’m on the verge of losing my mind.”
“Do you need anything from the store?” Kate asked. “If you do, I’ll give Frank a call on his cell phone and tell him to—”
“Is Frank not back yet?” Leenie asked.
“Not yet,” Kate told her.
“Then please call him. I’d like to speak to him.” Leenie motioned for Kate to come with her into the kitchen.
“You two go ahead,” Moran said. “I should check in with headquarters.”
Once they were in the kitchen, Kate dialed Frank’s cell number. He answered on the first ring.
“Latimer.”
“Frank, it’s Kate.”
“What’s up? Anything wrong?”
“Nothing new. But Leenie wants to talk to you.”
“She does?”
“Yes, she does.” Kate held out the phone to Leenie.
She grasped the phone, inhaled and exhaled then said, “Kate and I are going to make sandwiches for supper. They should be ready in about fifteen minutes. Would you please come home and eat with us. Afterward, I want to show you Andrew’s photo album and if you’d like to know more about him, I want to tell you about your son.”
Kate turned her head and willed herself not to cry. It had been ages since she’d shed a tear. At one time she had thought she’d cried herself dry, that there were no more tears left in her. But every once in a while something happened—usually a case involving a kidnapped child—that stirred long dead emotions within her. Years ago when she’d been a rookie cop on the Atlanta P.D., she’d worked with Ellen Denby and marveled at how the woman could keep a cool head and deal with the toughest cases involving children. But as the years went by and she and Ellen had exchanged confidences, she had learned that they shared a similarly tragic experience which enabled them to understand each other in a way no one else could. Just as Kate understood Leenie as only a mother who’d also had a child stolen from her could understand.
Kate offered to clear up the dishes and surprisingly Moran stayed in the kitchen to help her. Leenie felt as if she’d made a new friend in Kate and understood on an unspoken level that perhaps Kate had suffered once just as she suffered now. She realized she could be wrong about Kate, but her feminine intuition—her gut instincts—told her she was right. Sometime in her past, Kate Malone had lost a child.
Frank had been awfully quiet while they ate sandwiches, chips and cheesecake. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten cheesecake twice in one day. Oh yes she did remember—it had been the last time she’d made love with Frank. They’d had cheesecake for breakfast and again for lunch.
Alone together in the living room, Frank and she sat side by side on the sofa while she opened Andrew’s baby book, filled with photographs and memorabilia from her pregnancy and Andrew’s first two months of life. When Frank made no effort to close the gap between their bodies—the two feet that separated them—she took the initiative and scooted up next to him, hip-to-hip. He flinched, then stiffened. What was wrong with him? She wasn’t going to attack him, for pity’s sake. She laid the book in her lap and flipped it open so the other side dropped down on his thigh.
“Here’s a picture of me at my baby shower,” Leenie said. “Elsa came back to Maysville to help Haley host the event.”
Frank glanced at the picture, but said nothing.
“I was big as a barrel there. I gained thirty pounds.”
“Elsa and Rafe knew you were pregnant?”
“Yes, they knew. And before you get all huffy at Rafe, Elsa threatened him with divorce if he called and told you. She tried