Her Honor-bound Lawman. Karen Rose Smith
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scrambled away from the quilt. When she caught him, he let out a squeal and wriggled away, heading toward Emma where Steffie was already sitting contentedly in her lap.
“I have a feeling about Emma and those twins,” Gertie said.
Tucker glanced at her. “What kind of feeling?”
She nodded toward them. “Hannah might have temporary custody, and she might be good with the babies, but you watch Sammy and Steffie with Emma. They act as if they’ve known her all their lives. I know she can’t be their mother, but there’s got to be some kind of connection.”
“I don’t know, Aunt Gertie. If this lead pans out, I don’t see how there can be a connection. Maybe we’ll have some answers by the end of the day.”
Tucker strode across the large room past giant balls and colorful toys, then past the low table where one of Hannah’s assistants sat with a group of children. He tried not to hear their chatter or laughter. Children reminded him of Chad, and memories of Chad reminded him he’d made mistakes in his life that were unforgivable.
Emma rose to her feet when she saw Tucker, holding Steffie in her arms. She was wearing a long red corduroy jumper with a white pullover underneath. Part of her curly hair was tied up in a ponytail while the rest hung silky, loose and free. He remembered the scent of her shampoo when he’d kissed her. He remembered the softness of her lips, the faint freckles on the bridge of her nose, her erotic sweetness….
Cutting off thoughts that had taken over his dreams and distracted him too many times to count today, he stopped with his boots at the edge of the quilt and nodded to Hannah. “I need to borrow Emma this afternoon. Aunt Gertie says you have enough help to manage.”
“Sure do. Full staff today.”
Steffie was looking up at Tucker curiously as if fascinated by his face or maybe his hat. She reached out her little arms to him and he took a step back.
“Tucker?” Emma asked him, studying him closely.
The little girl’s big blue eyes beseeched him to hold her. He couldn’t resist…and held his arms out, lifting her into them. She fingered the star on his shirt and then touched his cheek and smiled up at him like a little angel who’d dropped down from heaven. His heart ached and his chest tightened. The feel of her in his arms brought back so many memories—Chad laughing and squealing as Tucker tossed him up into the air, as he pushed him on the swing, as he read him a story at night. The pain of letting the memory surface was more than Tucker could take.
He handed Steffie back to Emma. “I got a call from a detective in Omaha. There’s a man there who’s looking for his daughter. Her name is Emma. The photo I faxed them didn’t come through clearly and he’d like to see you…meet you and determine if you’re his daughter.”
Emma’s face paled. “You want to leave now?”
“Yes. I’ll call him and tell him we’re on our way. Roy said the man was free anytime. I’ll meet you outside.”
Steffie’s arms tangled around Emma’s neck and the year-old laid her head on Emma’s shoulder. Emma smoothed the baby’s hair and lightly kissed her forehead. When she looked up, Tucker was already through the foyer and opening the outside door.
The sheriff was such an enigma to her. His reaction to Steffie just now…There’d been such pain in his eyes and then such longing before he’d guarded himself, before he’d put Steffie back in Emma’s arms.
Hannah had set Sammy in the playpen and a string of red, yellow and blue beads kept his attention for the moment. Hannah held her arms out to Steffie, and Steffie went reluctantly to the woman who’d been her primary caretaker for the past two months. “Good luck,” Hannah said to Emma.
“Thanks. I’m almost afraid to hope. I can come in tomorrow and help until my doctor’s appointment at three-thirty.”
“Are you feeling all right?”
“Fine. It’s just a checkup. The neurologist wants to keep tabs on the headaches.”
“Have you had any lately?” Hannah asked, concerned.
“Not since that last flashback…if you could call it that.” She’d been here playing with Steffie and Sammy. All of a sudden, she’d had the vague memory of hanging baby clothes on a washline. Then she’d gotten a pounding headache. None of it made sense. If she was a virgin, she certainly didn’t have any children of her own. Maybe she’d worked for someone who’d had children.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” she said to Hannah as she brushed her hand tenderly once more over Steffie’s hair, then Sammy’s.
After Emma said goodbye to Aunt Gertie, she took her coat from the hall closet and went outside on the porch. Tucker was standing there waiting for her.
A few minutes later, he’d driven down Main Street past businesses and houses and finally fields when Emma asked, “What happened in there, Tucker?”
There was a pause. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“With Steffie. I noticed before when you came into the day-care center, you stayed away from the children.”
“You’re imagining things,” he said gruffly.
“I may have lost my memory, Tucker, but my eyesight is good. Don’t you like children?”
“Children are fine. I’m just not a…family man, that’s all.”
“Where is your family?” she probed, wanting to know more about him, wanting to know why he was so quiet sometimes, wanting to know why he was so strong.
“I don’t have any family.”
“Your parents are…gone?” she asked hesitantly.
He glanced at her and was silent for a few moments, but eventually answered, “My mother left my father and me when I was a kid. She didn’t like being married to a cop, and she wanted a different life than the one we had. She sent a few postcards and then we stopped hearing from her altogether.”
“And your dad?”
After a moment, he responded, “My dad died in the line of duty when I was at the police academy. I searched for my mother after that, found out she’d been in an automobile accident about three years before and didn’t make it.”
“I’m sorry, Tucker.”
He shrugged. “Life goes on.”
That sounded a little too glib to her and didn’t explain how he’d reacted to the children. But she could see he didn’t want to talk about it. He’d been so kind to her, so protective since that night when he’d taken her to the hospital, that she didn’t want to pry where she shouldn’t. “Aunt Gertie told me you’ve lived in Storkville about three years. Where did you live before that?”
With a frown, he cast a quick glance at her. “Why all the questions, Emma?”
She fiddled with her seat belt. “I need something to concentrate on. I can’t just sit here wondering what’s going to happen when we get to Omaha.”
He blew out a breath. “I see. I should have figured that out. I thought you might be asking because—Never mind, it doesn’t matter. Before I moved to Storkville, I lived in Chicago.”
“You were a member of the police force there?”
“Oh yeah.”
“So why’d you come to Storkville?”
His jaw tensed for a moment, then he replied, “I needed a change, and Storkville certainly was that. You’ve heard how it got its name, haven’t you?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“I don’t know how Gertie missed telling you that. Thirty-two years ago, a storm knocked out all the electricity in the town and there was a blackout that lasted