Czytaj książkę: «Her Honor-bound Lawman»

Chapter One

When the extension in Tucker’s office rang midafternoon on November first, he picked up his phone. “Malone here.”

“Tucker? It’s Roy Compton over in Omaha.”

Roy was a detective in the Omaha police department. He was the man Tucker had notified in August to discuss Emma’s situation. Tucker’s heart pounded faster. “Do you have something for me?”

“Possibly. There’s a man here in Omaha who filed a report that his daughter’s missing. Her name was Emma and your Emma fits the description. The file’s been non-active because the report came in about six months ago after the father and daughter had a terrific argument. The girl moved out all of her possessions while he was at work. He doesn’t have a current picture of his daughter and the one you faxed me isn’t exactly clear. He says the hair looks the same. He’s real anxious to make this identification, Tucker. Do you think you could drive her down here this afternoon?”

Tucker knew all about missing someone, about having hope and losing it. He was sure Emma would be as anxious as this father to find out if she was his daughter or not.

Looking quickly over the papers and forms on his desk, he decided everything there could wait. “I’ll go talk to Emma, then give you a call to let you know when we’ll arrive.” One way or another they were going to settle this today. Emma needed answers to the questions in her life. And after that kiss last night that had disconcerted him more thoroughly than a kiss ever had…

Tucker finally admitted to himself that he had his own reasons for wanting Emma to figure out her identity. Last night’s kiss had been a monumental mistake. He’d given into an urge that he’d denied since long before his divorce. Actually the urge hadn’t been that strong until he’d met Emma, and last night…he’d felt the full effects of not having a woman in his bed for the past few years.

And Emma?

The stars in her eyes right after the kiss had told him he’d better get her out of his house as soon as possible.

Grabbing his hat and jacket, he headed for the parking lot.

As she had most days for the past two months, Emma was volunteering at the new day-care center that had opened next door to Gertie. Shortly after Gertie had taken Emma in, Emma had gotten restless and needed something productive to do. She’d volunteered to help at BabyCare. Everyone she came in contact with at the center commented on how good she was with the children, but she’d especially taken to the abandoned twins Sammy and Steffie, who’d been left at BabyCare a few days before Emma had been mugged.

Five minutes later, Tucker parked along the curb in front of BabyCare, climbed out, and ducked his head against the cold wind as he approached the wraparound porch. Hannah Caldwell owned BabyCare, a sprawling three-story Victorian house that had answered a very necessary need in Storkville for working parents who wanted a safe haven where their children could be cared for.

After he opened the heavy wood door, he peered into the room on his right. There were playpens and playmats and women caring for children as young as six months and as old as five years. Emma was sitting on the floor on a quilt with Hannah. They were stacking blocks with Sammy and Steffie who were about a year old. Tucker usually kept his distance from children, and Sammy and Steffie with their reddish-brown hair and big blue eyes were no exception.

Standing at a changing table folding towels, Gertie Anderson saw Tucker and came toward him with a grin. She was in her late sixties with silver hair and brown eyes. Petite enough to flitter here and there, she had more energy than most people younger than she was. Since she lived next door to BabyCare, she helped out often when she wasn’t riding around town in her motorized shopping cart. She’d been the first person to officially welcome Tucker to Storkville and had bought him a cup of coffee while she’d filled him in on the town and lots of its inhabitants. It hadn’t taken Tucker long at all to see she had a heart of gold.

Coming over and stopping in front of him, her white-and-black oxford shoes almost touched his boots. “Is this an official visit or a friendly one?”

“Official and friendly,” he replied. “I didn’t think I’d find you here with all that company of yours in town. Are they still staying until Christmas?”

Gertie eyed him and he knew he should have tried to make his question more subtle. “Is Emma getting in your way?”

In his way. That was an understatement. “I’m just afraid the gossips might start a few rumors.”

“That didn’t seem to be a consideration when you asked her to stay with you. Besides, everyone in this town knows you’re as upright as the Statue of Liberty. They also know Emma has no place to go and no one to turn to.” Gertie patted his arm. “You let me take care of the gossips. It’s been so long since my family and I were all under the same roof together, they might stay forever! My sisters and nieces and nephews talk long into the night. I’m having a good time, Tucker. Maybe you should stop worrying about Emma being under your roof and just enjoy having her there.”

“She might not be there much longer. I’ve gotten a lead.”

“What kind of lead?”

“I can’t say anything more till I talk with Emma. We have to drive to Omaha. Do you have enough help here that she can get away?”

“Sure we do. Penny Sue will be here shortly after school. Gwen’s here, too. She’s with the kids who are napping.” Penny Sue Lipton was a fifteen-year-old who helped out at the day-care center after school. Gwenyth Parker Crowe, who was Hannah’s cousin, was a relative newcomer to Storkville. She had married Ben Crowe a few weeks ago.

Emma’s laughter floated across the large room, and Tucker’s gaze went to her again. She was such a lovely woman, but so young, so vulnerable. Hannah, with her light brown hair, blocked Tucker’s line of vision for a moment as she stooped to pick up Sammy who had 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 quite a few days. Nine months later, a lot of babies were born. When the media in the surrounding areas heard about it, they dubbed the town Storkville. On the second year anniversary of the blackout, the town council officially renamed the town Storkville. Apparently there’s always been a lot of multiple births here. And Aunt Gertie gave the town its motto—When The Stork Visits Storkville, He Bestows Many Bouncing Bundles On Those Whose Love Is Boundless.”

“You sound as if you don’t believe that.”

“Some days I’m not sure what I believe.”

What had he seen, what had happened to persuade him to give up a life in Chicago and move here? But she knew he might not answer that question. So she asked another. “What made you become a police officer? Your dad?”

“I suppose. I said some days I don’t know what I believe, but that’s not quite true. My father taught me a code—a code of values, a code of behavior. He taught me right from wrong, and I saw him put it into practice. I never wanted to be anything else.”

“You’re a lucky man, Tucker.”

He gave her more than a glance this time. “Why?”

Their gazes held for a moment, then he looked back at the road. But she could tell he was intensely interested in her answer. “You had a good man for a father who taught you the basis of being an adult. It sounds as if you’ve always known who you are. You’re really blessed.”

The nerve in his jaw worked, and she had a feeling there was so much he hadn’t told her, so much he wouldn’t tell her. She went on, “Every minute of every day, I wonder who I am. I wonder what kind of parents I had. I wonder what they taught me and where I grew up and why I can’t remember any of it. The neurologist said traumatic amnesia is selective in a way. I’m not sure I understand what he means, but have I selected not to remember my parents, not to remember my upbringing?”