Forgotten Lullaby. Rita Herron
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caved in around her, and all the emotions she’d been trying so hard to suppress welled up, collecting in her chest. Salty tears filled her eyes as she listened to Carly’s gurgles. “Was…was I a good mother?” She almost choked on the last word, and she buried her face in her hands, unable to look at Grant.
He knelt in front of her, pulling her fingers away from her face, taking her cheeks in his hands, stroking her tenderly. “Emma, you were…are a wonderful mother. The best. You may not remember everything, but don’t ever doubt that.”
Emma leaned against Grant, absorbing the strength in his powerful body as he curved his arm around her trembling shoulders. “This is so hard,” she whispered. “What kind of mother can I be now, when I don’t remember my own baby? I’ve forgotten if she even has a favorite lullaby.”
“I know this is tough,” he said in a rough voice. “But you are a wonderful mother, and when you hold Carly, all those feelings will come back.” He gently kissed her temple.
Kate brought the baby in, wrapped in a fluffy yellow blanket. Emma saw two tiny fists waving in the air. She felt a painful tug on her heart. “She’s so tiny.”
“You cried the first time you saw her, too,” Grant said quietly, brushing her damp cheeks with his fingers.
Emma swallowed, desperately trying to control her raging emotions.
Grant took Carly from Kate, cradling her in his arms. “How’s our little doll?” Carly waved her hand and smacked Grant’s lower lip with her chubby fist.
Emma’s clammy hands tightened around the bear. This was her baby. Her little girl. She couldn’t let Carly suffer because of her memory loss.
“You want to see Mommy?” Grant asked. Carly cooed. “Yes, I know you’ve missed her. But she’s home now.”
“I’ll heat dinner,” Kate said, rushing from the room.
Grant turned to Emma and scooted back against the couch, awkwardly situating Carly in his arms. Finally he angled the baby so Emma could see her face.
Carly’s little feet pedaled in the air. Emma’s heart swelled. Carly had a small round face with big brown eyes, incredibly long lashes and dimples that appeared as she smiled. Her fair coloring and golden hair resembled Emma’s own, but the rest of Carly’s face reminded her of Grant. She was adorable.
“Hi there, Carly,” Emma said, instinctively reaching for her.
“Are you sure you’re up to holding her?” Grant asked. “The doctor said you shouldn’t lift anything for a few more days.”
“I’m still sore, but maybe if you helped me…” She met Grant’s gaze. “She’s so precious. I really want to hold her.”
For a brief second she thought moisture glistened in Grant’s eyes, but he swallowed, then nodded and lowered Carly into her arms, keeping his hand underneath Carly’s body to support her weight.
“She looks like you.” Emma pulled the blanket away and studied Carly’s fingers. “Did you dress her?”
“I did this morning. But Kate must have changed her into this sleeper. She goes through a million clothes a day.”
Emma chuckled and ran her finger over the soft pink terry-cloth fabric, smiling at the little white bunnies on the front.
“She has your button nose.” Grant pressed his finger on the top of Carly’s nose. “And your long fingers. Maybe she’ll play the piano like you.”
Emma stroked Carly’s hand and smiled, feeling the painful tug on her heart again when Carly wrapped her fingers around her own. “Does she like it when I play?”
“She loves it. Especially ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.’ I swear she gurgles the minute you start playing.” He stroked her hand tenderly. “And her favorite lullaby is ‘Hush Little Baby.’”
Emma smiled, her vision blurring as she hummed the song. Grant tucked his hand over hers and she stared at their fingers, splayed over Carly’s small ones. Grant gently brushed his other hand along Emma’s cheek, his eyes filled with emotion. Emma tensed, unsure about the intimacy of their connected hands and the hunger in his dark gaze.
“Do you want dinner in here?” Kate asked, interrupting the moment.
“Sure.” Suddenly nervous about being alone with Grant, Emma hoped Kate would stay in the room. “Thanks, sis.”
Grant threaded his fingers through his hair again and shot Kate an agitated look. “I’m not very hungry. I’ll wait till later.”
“Okay, Emma and I can eat together and talk,” Kate said. “Just like old times.”
Her college days flashed into Emma’s head. She smiled at Kate again, thinking of the fun they’d had. “Are you going to tell me about all your old dates?”
Kate laughed. “You wish.”
The doorbell rang and Grant got up to answer it. Seconds later, he returned, a tall blond man by his side. “You remember Detective Warner from the hospital, Emma?”
“Yes.” Emma’s fingers tightened around Carly as she stared at his uniform.
“Sorry to interrupt your homecoming, ma’am.” Emma shrugged, and the young detective shifted on one booted foot, refusing a seat when Grant motioned to the chair. Carly whimpered, prompting Kate to ease her from Emma and thrust a bottle into her mouth.
“Did you find the car that hit Emma?” Grant asked.
“Not yet,” the detective replied in a thick New York accent. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Grant angled his head toward the kitchen. “Maybe we’d better talk alone.”
Emma’s heart pounded as the officer glanced back and forth between her and Grant. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Grant stared at the policeman, then cleared his throat and looked at Emma. “It’s nothing you need to worry about, sweetheart.”
Emma’s fingers curled into fists in her lap. “Look, Grant, Detective, I’m the one who had the wreck. If you’ve learned something about it, I want to know.”
“Emma, don’t get upset.” Kate patted her shoulder. “The doctor said it’s not good for you.”
“Stop it.” Emma frowned at Kate. “I was injured, but I have a right to know what’s happening. This is my life we’re talking about here.”
The silence in the room seemed deafening. “Grant, please be honest with me. What’s going on?”
Grant exhaled, his eyes troubled. “There was a witness to the wreck. A young boy.” He paused, tunneling his hair with his fingers before he met her gaze. “He said somebody ran you off the road.”
Emma’s heartbeat picked up.
“He said it looked intentional, Mrs. Wadsworth,” the detective added.
“But…why would someone intentionally hurt me?” Emma asked, the strain pounding at her temples.
Warner rolled onto the balls of his feet. “I was hoping you folks might be able to tell me that.”
“I don’t understand,” Kate said. “I thought some nut hit her, then freaked and ran.”
Warner made a noncommittal sound. “The witness said he thought the person might have been drunk and lost control the first time, but then he backed off, sped up and rammed her car again and again until she went off the road.”
Emma realized by the look on Grant’s pale face that he’d known about the witness all along. Only, he hadn’t shared the information with her. “Why didn’t you tell me, Grant?”
“Because you’ve had enough to deal with lately,