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Her Honor-bound Lawman
Karen Rose Smith
Rugged, hardworking Sheriff Tucker Malone is as upright as the weather vane on Gertie Anderson's roof! So who better to shelter sweet, virginal Emma–the amnesiac who surfaced in Storkville without a nickel or last name–while he investigates her past? Still, the broad-shouldered lawman seems mighty distracted since Emma started spending nights.And he gets downright testy when other males come near Emma and the angelic abandoned twins she's taken under her wing. For a man who's sworn off women and family, Tucker sure is protective of his little brood. And we townsfolk suspect the sheriff hasn't a clue…that Emma and her charges have stolen his heart!
Emma didn’t know what her experience with men in the past had been.
Not much, apparently, because the doctor had told her she was still a virgin. Still, she suspected that Sheriff Tucker Malone was the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on. His brown hair was silver at the temples, but the strength and intensity in his dark eyes always awed her so much, her mouth went dry.
Ever since he’d taken her to the hospital, this…electricity crackled between them. Whenever she was close to him, she wanted to get closer. The golden sparks in his brown eyes now told her he might want that, too.
“Emma,” he said, his voice husky.
She was afraid to move, afraid to answer him, afraid he’d back away. So she just looked up at him, wanting something she couldn’t name, wanting to get to know him, wanting the man-woman connection she’d felt with him from the night they’d met….
Silhouette Romance’s
STORKVILLE, USA series—
THOSE MATCHMAKING BABIES by Marie Ferrarella (8/00, SR #1462)
HIS EXPECTANT NEIGHBOR by Susan Meier (9/00, SR #1468)
THE ACQUIRED BRIDE by Teresa Southwick (10/00, SR #1474)
HER HONOR-BOUND LAWMAN by Karen Rose Smith (11/00, SR #1480)
Dear Reader,
There’s something for everyone in a Silhouette Romance, be it moms (or daughters!) or women who’ve found—or who still seek!—that special man in their lives. Just revel in this month’s diverse offerings as we continue to celebrate Silhouette’s 20th Anniversary.
It’s last stop: STORKVILLE, USA, as Karen Rose Smith winds this adorable series to its dramatic conclusion. A virgin with amnesia finds shelter in the town sheriff’s home, but will she find lasting love with Her Honor-Bound Lawman? New York Times bestselling author Kasey Michaels brings her delightful trilogy THE CHANDLERS REQUEST…to an end with the sparkling bachelor-auction story Raffling Ryan. The Millionaire’s Waitress Wife becomes the latest of THE BRUBAKER BRIDES as Carolyn Zane’s much-loved miniseries continues.
In the second installment of Donna Clayton’s SINGLE DOCTOR DADS, The Doctor’s Medicine Woman holds the key to his adoption of twin Native American boys—and to his guarded heart. The Third Kiss is a charmer from Leanna Wilson—a must-read pretend engagement story! And a one-night marriage that began with “The Wedding March” leads to The Wedding Lullaby in Melissa McClone’s latest offering….
Next month, return to Romance for more of THE BRUBAKER BRIDES and SINGLE DOCTOR DADS, as well as the newest title in Sandra Steffen’s BACHELOR GULCH series!
Happy Reading!
Mary-Theresa Hussey
Senior Editor
Her Honor-Bound Lawman
Karen Rose Smith
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To Jeanne Smith with thanks.
Author’s note:
Guardianship/custody proceedings have been adapted for purposes of the storyline.
Books by Karen Rose Smith
Silhouette Romance
* (#litres_trial_promo)Adam’s Vow #1075
* (#litres_trial_promo)Always Daddy #1102
* (#litres_trial_promo)Shane’s Bride #1128
†(#litres_trial_promo)Cowboy at the Wedding #1171
†(#litres_trial_promo)Most Eligible Dad #1174
†(#litres_trial_promo)A Groom and a Promise #1181
The Dad Who Saved Christmas #1267
‡ (#litres_trial_promo)Wealth, Power and a Proper Wife #1320
‡ (#litres_trial_promo)Love, Honor and a Pregnant Bride #1326
‡ (#litres_trial_promo)Promises, Pumpkins and Prince Charming #1332
The Night Before Baby #1348
‡ (#litres_trial_promo)Wishes, Waltzes and a Storybook Wedding #1407
Just the Man She Needed #1434
Just the Husband She Chose #1455
Her Honor-Bound Lawman #1480
Silhouette Special Edition
Abigail and Mistletoe #930
The Sheriff’s Proposal #1074
Silhouette Books
Fortunes of Texas
Marry in Haste…
Previously published under the pseudonym Kari Sutherland
Silhouette Romance
Heartfire, Homefire #973
Silhouette Special Edition
Wish on the Moon #741
KAREN ROSE SMITH
lives in Pennsylvania with her husband of twenty-nine years. She believes in happily-ever-afters and enjoys writing about them. A former teacher, she now writes romances full-time. She likes to hear from readers, and they can write to her at: P.O. Box 1545, Hanover, PA 17331.
Storkville folks hardly remember the day the town bore another name—because the residents keep bearing bundles of joy! No longer known for its safe neighborhoods and idyllic landscape, Storkville is baby-bootie capital of the world! We even have a legend for the explosion of “uplets”—“When the stork visits, he bestows many bouncing bundles on those whose love is boundless!” Of course, some—Gertie Anderson—still insist a certain lemonade recipe, which is “guaranteed” to help along prospective mothers, is the real stork! But whether the little darlings come from the cabbage patch or the delivery room, Storkville folks never underestimate the beauty of holding a child—or the enchantment of first love and the wonder of second chances….
Contents
Prologue (#ueb69dbcb-6dee-5544-916d-b553c289f062)
Chapter One (#ub324a90a-8d32-565f-8b94-a27c0897224d)
Chapter Two (#u0f48b7b2-228f-5109-9bb8-6b69ad4eba93)
Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue
Sheriff Tucker Malone set down the sheaf of papers in his hand and pushed away from the desk in his office. Rising to his feet, he rolled his shoulders and went to stand at the window. He was too distracted to work, and the distraction was a woman named Emma.
Halloween night in Storkville, Nebraska, was usually quiet with only a few reports of pranks. He’d stayed late tonight in case he was needed. He’d stayed late tonight because he was unsettled by his reactions to a woman who couldn’t remember her own name. Fortunately she’d been wearing a necklace with “Emma” engraved on it. But that’s the only clue he’d had to begin his investigation.
Turning away from the window, he picked up the snapshot of her that lay on his desk. He’d taken it so he could fax it to surrounding towns. Certainly she belonged somewhere…to someone. A mugger had stolen her purse, as well as her overnight satchel, and with them anything that had identified her. No one in Storkville knew her. But she couldn’t have come too far. There had been no abandoned vehicles around the town. It was a mystery.
Her sparkling green eyes stared up at him from the photograph, and her curly, dark coppery-red hair surrounded her face like a soft cloud. Her skin was so delicate, her smile so sweet, and whenever he looked at her a protective urge surged through him….
Get a grip, he scolded himself. Find out who she is so you can send her back where she belongs.
She’d spent the last three days under his roof, and it was driving him crazy. For the past two months Emma had been staying with Gertie Anderson who had witnessed her mugging and fall. But when Gertie’s family had swept in from Sweden as an unexpected surprise, there hadn’t been room for Emma. Before Tucker’s better sense had caught his words, he’d offered her a room in his house.
Hoping Emma had turned in by now—it was almost eleven—he grabbed his leather bomber jacket from the old-fashioned clothes tree and snatched his Stetson from the rack on the wall. After he left his office, he stopped at an open doorway and bid Earl Grimes and Barry Sanchek a peaceful night.
The dispatcher, Cora Beth Harper, smiled at him as he passed her desk. “You’ve been putting in some long hours. Take care driving.” Cora Beth had coal black hair that Tucker suspected was helped by a bottle of dye. She was plump with a voice that could stay calm in any situation, and she liked to mother everyone.
“Page me if you need me,” he said as he usually did, and she nodded as he went out the door.
The Cedar County Sheriff’s Department’s black SUV sat at the curb. He pulled out the keys and pressed the remote to unlock it. As he climbed inside, he thought about the three years he’d lived in Storkville and the relative peace he’d found here. Taking a job as interim sheriff had probably saved his sanity as well as his career…although being sheriff in Storkville, Nebraska was a world away from being an undercover cop in Chicago. But the citizens of Storkville had liked the way he’d worked and elected him to a four-year term. This place, as well as his job, had given his life rhythm again and maybe even some meaning.
Streetlights illuminated residential areas as Tucker briefly cruised through them, making sure everything was quiet, everything was the way it should be, even though he realized that behind closed doors, sometimes nothing was the way it should be.
A short time later, he turned into the driveway to the garage attached to a two-story Colonial and pressed the remote for the double door. Now and then he still wondered why he’d bought a house this big. But it had been at a discount price because it needed fixing up. It had three bedrooms and a bath upstairs, a living room, large kitchen, and small den downstairs. And an unfinished basement.
It wasn’t as if he had dreams of a family in the future. He’d given up those fantasies when he’d signed his divorce papers. Actually, he’d given up those fantasies the night—
Cutting off the memories he wouldn’t tolerate, he pulled in beside his truck, lowered the garage door and climbed out of the SUV. When he opened the door leading down a short hall, he headed for the kitchen. The light was still burning over the sink. Emma must have left it on for him.
After he shrugged out of his jacket, he hung it on the peg on the wall, his hat on the rack atop it. As he strode into the kitchen, he heard a low noise—the murmur of the TV.
Apparently Emma hadn’t turned in yet.
The sound of Tucker’s SUV pulling into the driveway had alerted Emma to his return. He’d said he would be late. She’d decided to wait up for him, to spend a few minutes with one of the few people she felt familiar with. The bump on her head from her fall had wiped out her past, and she was struggling to deal with that. What if she never remembered? What if she had to just go on from here?
Aunt Gertie, Tucker, and the workers at the day-care center where she volunteered were the only people she knew in the world. When Tucker had offered her a room under his roof, she’d been reluctant to accept, but Aunt Gertie—as most of the town called her—had soothed Emma’s doubts with something she’d already known deep in her soul. Aunt Gertie had said, “Tucker Malone is the most honorable man I know. He’ll keep you safe, and he’ll do everything in his power to find out who you are.”
Hearing the garage door close, Emma took a deep breath. She didn’t know what her experience with men in the past had been. Not much, apparently, because after the doctor at the hospital had examined her, he’d told her she was still a virgin. Whatever it had been, she suspected Tucker Malone was the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on.
She heard his boots on the linoleum in the kitchen. She heard him walk through the dining room. When he appeared in the doorway to the living room, her heart skipped a beat.
He was at least six-two, with dark brown hair, enhanced by a bit of silver at the temples, that skimmed the collar of his tan sheriff’s shirt. His shoulders were broad, and the dark brown stripe that went down the sides of his trousers emphasized his long legs. Her gaze met his. As always, the strength and intensity she found in his dark brown eyes awed her, so much so that her mouth went dry. She’d learned he was a man of few words most of the time. He’d checked on her often when she’d been at Aunt Gertie’s. Although she’d been under his roof for three days, she still didn’t know much about him.
His brows arched up now, and she knew it was an inquiry asking why she was still up.
She motioned to the two glasses she’d set on a tray on the dark pine coffee table and managed to find her voice. “I thought you might like some cider.”
Leaning against the doorway, not making a move to come sit beside her on the tan-and-green plaid sofa, he asked, “Did many kids come to the door for tricks or treats?”
“I gave out all of the candy and popcorn balls. But I have a few cookies left.” She gestured to the dish sitting between the glasses.
Tucker crossed to her slowly, and she saw his gaze linger on her hair, then pass down the emerald green sweater and slacks that she wore. Everything inside of her seemed to race, and she felt heat stain her cheeks. She fingered the necklace around her neck, the only proof of who she was.
“Did you make these?” he asked gruffly.
She nodded.
When he’d invited her to stay with him, she’d accepted under the terms that she would cook and clean house in exchange for board.
Tucker picked up one of the cookies and ate it. “I haven’t tasted a peanut butter cookie in years. They’re good, Emma.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, studying his expression, wondering if the faint lines around his eyes had come from happy or sad times. His face was rugged rather than handsome, his jaw strong, his beard shadow evident now, adding to his masculine appeal.
Tucker broke eye contact and took the remote control from her hand. His fingers brushed her palm, and the heat from their contact infused her whole body. When his arm brushed hers as he lowered the volume on the TV, Emma’s heart pounded. As she glanced at Tucker, she saw he was gazing at her. Ever since the night she’d been mugged and he’d taken her to the hospital, this…electricity had crackled between them. Whenever she was close to him, she wanted to get closer. The golden sparks in his brown eyes now told her he might want that, too.
“Emma,” he said, his voice husky.
She was afraid to move, afraid to answer him, afraid he’d back away. So she just looked up at him, wanting something she couldn’t name, wanting to get to know him, wanting the man-woman connection she’d felt with him from the night they’d met.
When he bent his head slowly, she guessed he was waiting for her to lean away. But she wasn’t going anywhere. His arm came around her as his lips brushed hers. The brushing became a meeting, the meeting became a hunger, the hunger became a kiss that made bells ring and the earth move. Emma didn’t know if she’d ever been kissed before, or what to do next, but her lips parted and Tucker’s tongue became masterful and possessive and demanding. She gave herself up to all of it, reveling in his need as well as hers, in something she imagined was desire but seemed like so much more.
Lost in Tucker Malone, Emma was excited by every new sensation until abruptly he pulled away.
In a terse voice, he said, “That was a mistake, Emma. It won’t happen again.”
It took her a few moments to realize the magic was gone and Tucker regretted what had happened. Still trembling, she didn’t want him to notice. She didn’t want him to see how he’d affected her. Because he was right. The kiss had been a mistake.
She couldn’t get involved with anyone until she remembered who she was.
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?”
“Your amnesia could very well have a physical cause, too, and in about another half hour, you might know a whole lot more. How about some music? Will that distract you?”
She’d rather keep talking to him. She’d rather keep learning about what he thought and what he felt and why he considered their kiss a great big mistake. But she suspected he wouldn’t tell her that. She suspected he wouldn’t tell her a lot of things.
If Emma had ever been to Omaha, she couldn’t tell. None of it seemed familiar. Tucker knew exactly where he was going. When he parked near the police station, Emma took a deep breath.
He came around to her side of the truck and opened the door for her. His dark brown eyes stared down at her steadily. “Are you ready?”
She nodded and took the large hand he gave her to help her step down from the truck. His palm had calluses, and the heat from his fingers seemed to warm her down deep inside. She was glad he was here with her. She was glad she didn’t have to do this alone.
Tucker ushered her inside the six-story building where they were directed to Roy Compton’s office. A tall, broad-shouldered man opened the door, shook Tucker’s hand then hers, and introduced himself as Roy Compton. As soon as Emma stepped into his office, she was aware of another man also wearing a suit who had auburn hair, green eyes and looked to be in his fifties. She felt no flicker of recognition and her stomach somersaulted.
“Sheriff Malone, Emma, this is Robert Franz.”
It didn’t take long for a terribly disappointed look to come over the man’s face, then he shook his head. “She’s not my daughter. She’s not my Emma.”
Emma’s breath caught, her heart pounded. He didn’t know her. She might never find out who she was. But as soon as those thoughts clicked through her mind, she realized how distressed the man was, how agonizing this was for him. Without thinking twice, she crossed to him. “I’m sorry I’m not your daughter, Mr. Franz. I hope you find her. I hope you find her very soon.”
Robert Franz’s eyes grew moist. “I might never find her if she has anything to say about it. She thinks I want to run her life and she’s probably right.”
“But you’re her father and as the days go by, she’ll want that connection back. I know she will.”
Franz studied Emma and then nodded as if her words had given him some hope.
Although Tucker had been unsettled by Emma’s questions on the drive to Omaha, he realized her silence was just as disconcerting now. She wasn’t a silent woman and her quietness worried him. Even in the midst of her own situation, her own confusion, she’d reached out to a man she didn’t know to help him feel better. She was a special woman, a very young woman, probably in her early twenties. At thirty-seven, he felt a lifetime older than she was.
Emma’s silence lasted until they returned to Tucker’s house. He pulled into the garage next to his blue pickup truck. He should take it out for a run soon. He hadn’t started it in two days. But he wasn’t as concerned about his truck as he was about Emma. She’d stared into space on the drive home or out the window and he wished he could read the thoughts clicking through her head.
She climbed out of the SUV before he’d put the garage door down and started into the house. After he followed her, he found she’d thrown her coat over a stool at the counter and was washing her hands at the sink. “I’m going to make a meat loaf for supper and rice and green beans. I can whip up a batch of brownies for dessert if you’d like. It won’t take too long.”
Quickly she dried her hands, then moved to the refrigerator, taking out the ground beef. Her movements were almost frenetic, much too fast. She was hurrying and there was no reason to hurry.
“If you don’t feel like cooking,” he said, “I can go get some take-out. Do you like Chinese?”
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll have supper ready in an hour. Oh…maybe the meat loaf won’t be done by then. Would you like barbecued beef instead?”
As she talked and moved, Tucker knew he had to put a stop to it. Crossing the room, he blocked her path as she tried to make a return trip to the refrigerator. “Talk to me, Emma.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“You’re upset.”
“Of course I’m upset, and that’s why I need to do something.”
She tried to go around him, but he caught her by the shoulders. “Stop.”
“Tucker, don’t,” she protested, her voice quivering. “I don’t want to think about what happened.”
“It could happen again. I might get another lead we have to chase down.”
Shaking her head, she tried to break free of his grasp. But he held her steady and, as he did, he saw tears come to her eyes.
“It’s okay, Emma. It’s okay to be disappointed and upset. I haven’t seen you cry since this whole thing happened. If anyone deserves to cry, you do.”
More tears welled in her eyes and spilled over, and he couldn’t help but fold his arms around her and hold her close.
She held on to him.
He let his cheek rest against her hair. Everything about her was so feminine…so tempting…so vulnerable. What had been a comforting embrace became more for Tucker. Her hair against his jaw was as arousing as her soft breasts pressed against his chest. The desire that rolled through him whenever he saw her, let alone whenever he touched her, became a rush of heat throughout his body, inflaming his hunger for her. But she needed him right now and no woman had needed him in just this way for a very long time.
“We’ll find out who you are. I’ve sent more inquiries to South Dakota and Wyoming, and I’ll do it across the country if I have to.” He rubbed his hand up and down her back. “And maybe you’ll have more flashbacks. You’re seeing the doctor tomorrow, aren’t you?”
She leaned away from him slightly and nodded. “It was just looking into Mr. Franz’s eyes that upset me. I wondered if anybody missed me that badly. But certainly they would have come looking for me if they had.”
“I’m sure someone misses you, Emma. A great deal.” Her upturned chin, her sparkling green eyes, the innocence he saw every time he looked at her, convinced him someone had to miss her tremendously.
“Thank you for being with me today, Tucker. Sometimes I feel as if I can handle anything—who I am, what I did, where I lived. I believe I’ll find out any hour, any day. But then others—It was good to have you there.”
“I don’t need your thanks. I was doing my job.” But as he said it, he knew that wasn’t entirely true. Emma had become more than his job, and that was the problem.
“Do you become this personally involved with all the people you help?” she asked.
His answer would be a catch-22. He’d be in trouble either way. “I do what I have to do.”
“But what do you want to do, Tucker?”
It was as if she knew everything in him was screaming at him to kiss her, to hold her in his arms more intimately, to give them both pleasure. But just because he’d given in to that impulse once, didn’t mean he was going to give in again. His father had taught him discipline, and he’d honed it on his own over the years. It was a necessary trait in law enforcement. It was a necessary trait when a man held a vulnerable woman in his arms.
“I want to find out who you are, and I want to return you to wherever you belong,” he answered her.
The startled look in her eyes became a hurt one. Pulling free of his arms, she straightened her shoulders. “I’m fine now. As you said, I have to get used to this type of thing happening…and I will. I’m not going to give up on finding out who I am anymore than you are. Maybe that’s the problem. I haven’t tried hard enough. I’ll talk to the doctor about it tomorrow. Maybe I should even go door to door throughout Storkville, asking anyone and everyone if they’ve ever seen me. I had to be here for some reason. Someone should know me.”
That’s exactly what Tucker thought. But Emma’s story had been in the Storkville paper and no one had come forward. Apparently no one was missing this beautiful young woman.
And Tucker wondered why.
The next morning Tucker was gone when Emma went down to the kitchen. She was relieved in a way, yet disappointed, too. Last night when he’d held her, she’d felt so secure, so safe. Being in his arms felt so right. But obviously he didn’t feel the same way. She’d thought he was going to kiss her again. Apparently he was just giving her comfort, just doing part of his job. Yet she couldn’t believe that the golden sparks in his dark brown eyes had been simply duty.
In the few days she’d been with him here in his house, she’d learned he was a complicated man. He’d worked in his den last night until supper. Then after supper, during which she hadn’t said much at all, he’d gone back to his office at the sheriff’s department. She’d gone to bed around ten and heard him come in shortly after. His room was next door to hers, and she could hear the clang of his belt as he undressed, his boots falling onto the floor. She could even hear the creak of his bed as he got in.
She didn’t know who she was, yet she was having these thoughts about a man she barely knew. She shook her head. Maybe the two went together. Maybe her thoughts were swirling around Tucker because he was the only stable person in her world right now.
After she nibbled on a piece of toast and drank a cup of tea, she walked the four blocks to the day-care center. When she’d first moved in, Tucker had wanted to drive her there in the mornings. But she liked walking in the crisp, cool air. She liked the quiet. She liked passing the people in the houses on the street. Every time she took the walk, she hoped something would trigger her memory.
As always, when Emma arrived at the day-care center, it bustled with activity as parents dropped off their children for the day. Emma helped them with their coats and then took them to play stations or the breakfast corner. Every chance she got, she played with Sammy and Steffie. Sometimes when she held them…she felt on the verge of remembering. But then afterwards she told herself she was being silly. She must just love babies.
The morning sped by and soon it was time to serve lunch. Emma worked beside Hannah and two other volunteers. “Gwen called this morning to let me know that she wouldn’t be in,” Hannah told her as she poured juice.
“How’s she feeling?” Gwen had come to Storkville, trying to escape the effects of a difficult divorce. She’d been pregnant and just wanted some peace and quiet. Instead she’d fallen in love with Ben Crowe and married him.
“Her doctor told her she could deliver anytime, so she’s sticking close to Ben and he’s sticking close to her. He probably won’t let her out of his sight for very long.”
Emma laughed. “Is he the protective type?”
“Very. Even more so than Jackson, and Jackson and I have go-rounds about it now and then.”
Hannah herself had just married in September to Jackson Caldwell. He was a pediatrician and the son of Jackson Caldwell Sr., who had been one of the wealthiest men in Storkville. Jackson had returned to the town when his father died six months ago. He and Hannah had the type of marriage that Emma admired. Anyone a mile away could see how much in love they were.
As soon as Hannah finished pouring juice, she and Emma served the children lunch. As usual there were spills and giggles, faces to be wiped, and energy to direct. It was almost three when Emma glanced at her watch and checked in with Hannah again.
“I’m going to spend a few minutes with Sammy and Steffie and then I’ll have to leave.”
“That’s fine. Penny Sue will be coming in. You know, it’s okay if you take a day off now and then. You don’t have to come in every day.”
“Nothing else seems quite as worthwhile as coming here and helping you.”
Fifteen minutes later, Emma was sitting on the floor, holding Steffie and watching Sammy awkwardly push a walking toy in the shape of a train engine. He wasn’t taking steps on his own yet, but it wouldn’t be long. He’d just fallen and was deciding whether to cry or laugh when Tucker suddenly towered above them.
“I came to take you to your doctor’s appointment.”
“I can walk, Tucker. It’s only a few blocks. You didn’t have to interrupt your work.”
“You’re part of my work,” he said briskly.
She wished that weren’t so. She wished he’d come to drive her simply because he wanted to. “We have a few minutes before my appointment. There’s coffee in the kitchen if you want some. I’ll get the twins busy with something in the playpen and then we can go.”
Tucker looked down at the floor at Sammy and then at Steffie in Emma’s arms. “Right. A cup of coffee would be good. Come get me when you’re ready to leave.”
As Emma watched him walk away, she again wondered what made him so uncomfortable being in the midst of children. She vowed to herself she’d find out what it was.
Soon.
Chapter Two
On the way to the doctor’s office, Emma noticed Tucker was driving his truck rather than the sheriff’s vehicle. “Do you have any leads on the twins?”
He shook his head. “They seem to have dropped out of midair the same way you did. I thought finding the monogram on that rattle left with them was a real clue.”
Everyone but Tucker had missed the faint monogram on the sterling silver rattle that had been tucked in with the babies. It had led him to the McCormack estate and Quentin McCormack. But a DNA test had proved Quentin wasn’t the father.
“What happens now?” Emma asked.
“I have one more lead. Someone I haven’t interviewed yet. He’s the butler on the McCormack estate who hires additional help for parties and the like. He’s been away the past month or so on a family emergency, but he’s expected back soon. I’m hoping he might have seen or heard something, or has some clue as to why that rattle was with the babies.”
“Hannah’s talking about adopting them,” Emma said wistfully. “I’d love to consider it myself, but I can’t. Not until I know who I am.”
“I’m working on it, Emma,” Tucker said, his mouth forming a straight, terse line.
She reached over and touched his arm. “I know you are. I know you’re doing all you can.”
Some of the tension went out of his shoulders. “You should be hopping mad I haven’t found a clue about you.”
“I know you work hard at your job, Tucker. I just have to trust that something will turn up when it’s supposed to. Maybe I’ll get my memory back on my own. I’m going to talk to the doctor today about working harder on that.”
“He told you before not to push.”
“Yes, he did. But he didn’t say why. I need to feel I’m doing something positive to get my life back.”
When Tucker pulled up in front of the office complex where several doctors were housed, he didn’t let Emma off at the curb but climbed out and came around.
“Don’t you have to get back to the office?” she asked.
“I’ve been putting in a lot of late hours. My time is my own this afternoon. Unless they page me.”
“I don’t want you to waste your time waiting. I can find my way home…I mean to your house.” Tucker’s house was starting to feel like a home and she knew that was dangerous.
“You let me worry about my time. I’ll catch up on the latest issue of People magazine.” A small smile played across his lips.
She laughed. Once in a while she saw a lighter side of Tucker, a side that might have been prevalent at one time. Something else to explore, she thought as they walked up the sidewalk, side by side, her elbow gently brushing his. Even that faint contact was enough to make her totally aware of him, totally aware of herself as a woman.
Inside the doctor’s reception area, Tucker helped Emma with her royal blue coat, hanging it on a rack. It had been a present from Dana McCormack, Quentin’s wife, when the weather turned colder. Only the clothes she’d worn the night of the mugging were hers. Hannah and Dana, almost the same size as she was, had given her spare garments that were seeing her through. But she wished she could get a job and start earning money again. She loved volunteering at the day-care center, but she didn’t like depending on anyone else for the roof over her head and the food on her plate.
Tucker placed his hat on the rack above the coats and ran his hand through his hair. It was such thick, vibrant hair and she’d love to run her fingers through it. She’d love to…
Cutting off the thought, she headed for the receptionist’s window and checked in. Tucker had taken a seat, picked up a magazine and unzipped his jacket but hadn’t shed it.
She’d no sooner taken the chair beside him when the door opened from the inner offices and the nurse called her name. She followed the white-uniformed woman to an examining room where the brunette took her blood pressure and pulse and told her the doctor would be in in a few minutes.
When Dr. Weisensale came in, he gave her a broad smile. “How are you today?”
A fatherly gentleman with white hair and a gray-white beard, he had always been kind to her. “I’m frustrated. I need to get my memory back so I can get on with my life. Can we try hypnosis?”
Dr. Weisensale studied her pensively. “Have you had anymore flashbacks?”
She’d called him about the shadowy remembrance of hanging baby clothes on a washline, how it had seemed like a memory, but yet unreal, too. Maybe something out of her imagination instead. “No, not since I phoned you.”
“Do you ever feel as if you might remember? As if your last name and where you’re from are teetering right on the edge of your consciousness?”
“Sometimes. Especially when I’m with the twins at the day-care center. That’s what’s so confusing. I know I can’t be a mother, but maybe I was a nanny. Maybe I watched over children in my job. Everything about taking care of them comes so naturally.”
Again he studied her. “Emma, I want you to think about something. Sometimes amnesia has a physical cause and sometimes it doesn’t.”
“You’ve mentioned that before.”
“Your tests all came back clean and I want you to consider something. Sometimes amnesia around a trauma is self-induced. It’s a possibility that you had a life you don’t want to remember.”
Emma’s dismay must have shown on her face.
“I’m not saying that’s the actuality,” he went on, “but it’s something to think about.”
“I do want to remember, doctor.”
His expression was kind. “You think you do, but your subconscious might think otherwise. Still, the fact that you’re having any flashbacks is positive. I’d rather you waited to try hypnosis at least another month or two. I know how frustrating this must be, but you must be patient. It truly is better if you remember on your own.”
“But what if I never remember? I need to have a life, and I can’t have a life without a Social Security number!” When she said it, she realized how preposterous that sounded. But in a way it was true. She couldn’t work without one. She didn’t even know if she could take a driving test without one.
“I’m sure you fall under some kind of special circumstances and that can be remedied if the amnesia lasts.”
“I don’t want to owe other people, doctor. First Aunt Gertie took me in, now Tucker. It’s embarrassing sometimes.”
“Something tells me, Emma, that you were a very independent woman, whoever you were before this bump on the head. I’ll tell you what. Give it one more month. If you don’t have any significant flashbacks, if nothing has changed, I’ll contact a psychologist I know who’s trained in hypnotherapy. Fair enough?”
Another month under Tucker’s roof…unless she remembered on her own, unless he found another lead to her identity. But there was really nothing else she could do right now. “All right, another month. But then I see a hypnotherapist.”
When Emma appeared in the waiting room, Tucker saw she was frowning, and after she went to the receptionist’s window and spoke with her, she looked upset. But there was a couple sitting in the waiting room now and he wanted to talk to her in private. She took her coat from the rack with a determined yank and didn’t wait for Tucker to help her with it. Then she was out the door and down the walk toward the truck before he zipped his jacket.
He caught up with her before she opened her door. “Emma, what’s wrong?”
“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s just hunky-dory. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know where I should live. I don’t even know my birth date. And on top of all that, Dr. Weisensale suggested again that maybe I don’t want to remember any of that. If I don’t want to remember my past, doesn’t that make you wonder what kind of past I have?”
“I’m sure your past is very respectable.” Tucker tried to be soothing.
“Respectable? I don’t feel as if my present is respectable. Aunt Gertie took me in. Now you’ve taken me in. And Dr. Weisensale told his receptionist there was no charge for today. He thinks I’m a charity case. I’m not, Tucker. I want to get a job. I want to work. I want to—” She bit her lower lip, and he could see her chin quiver.
Clasping her by the shoulders, he gazed into her beautiful green eyes that were shiny with tears. “I know this is frustrating for you. I wish I could do more to help.”
“I don’t want you to do more to help. I want to help myself. I asked about hypnotism, but Dr. Weisensale wants me to give it another month. A month, Tucker.”
“Is staying with me so bad?” he teased, thinking about her spending another month under his roof…in the bedroom beside his.
She let out a breath with a sigh and then gave him a weak smile. “No, of course not.”
He wanted to pull her into his arms and protect her. He wanted to set his lips on hers and taste her again. But instead, he lifted her chin with his thumb. “I think you need some perspective, time out of the house to enjoy yourself. Why don’t we go to the diner for a quick supper, then catch a movie?”
“A movie?”
“Yeah. I can’t remember the last time I went to a movie theater. And I know you can’t, either,” he said with a grin.
She looked startled for a moment, and then she laughed. “You’re right about that. All right, Sheriff Malone, you’re on. The blue-plate special and a movie. That should give me exactly the perspective I need.”
Her eyes were sparkling now, and her lips turned up in the sweetest smile he’d ever seen. Quickly he released her, then opened the door for her. When she climbed inside, he shut it, wondering what in the hell he’d just gotten himself into.
As usual, Vern’s Diner was bustling with a full capacity crowd. Tucker and Emma stood inside for a moment, searching for an empty table or booth. From a few feet away, Tucker felt glances on them.
A woman leaned over to the man who was with her and asked him, “Isn’t that the woman who doesn’t know who she is?”
Tucker could tell that Emma had overheard the comment, too. A shadow passed over her face, and he moved closer to her. “Maybe we should go to Chez Stork up the street. It would be quieter.”
Chez Stork wasn’t only quieter, but a lot more expensive and very elite. There was an aura of intimacy there that Tucker would rather avoid. But he didn’t want Emma to feel uncomfortable.
Emma gazed up at him, her green eyes serious. “Would you rather leave? Just because I’m the talk of the town doesn’t mean you should be.”
“Talk doesn’t bother me.”
Emma nodded to a booth that had just been vacated. “Then let’s get that table before somebody else does.”
Tucker had never met a woman quite like Emma. She was feminine in every sense of the word and yet there was a strength in her that he had to admire. She was so different from Denise. But he put that thought out of his head as they walked toward the booth.
Almost there, Tucker spotted Ben Crowe, his wife Gwen and the nine-year-old boy they were going to adopt, Nathan.
Emma stopped and smiled at Gwen. “Hi, there. How are you feeling?”
“Very big. But I guess that’s to be expected at this stage,” the pretty blonde said with a laugh.
Ben addressed Emma and Tucker. “Coming out to eat was the only way I could get her to stop unpacking boxes.”
Ben and Gwen had lived in her cottage since their wedding two weeks ago and now were moving into Ben’s ranch house. Ever since Nathan had gotten into some trouble with older boys last month, Tucker and Ben had become more friendly.
“Do you need any help moving?” Tucker asked.
Ben shook his head. “Thanks for asking, but we finished up today. Now if I can just convince my wife that she has to take it easy until she has this baby…”
“I’m going to have a brother or sister,” Nathan proudly informed them. “Ben’s going to adopt both of us.”
Ben ruffled Nathan’s hair. “I sure am. And we’d better get going if you want to put the finishing touches on that science project.”
Tucker tipped his hat to them. “Take care. And Gwen, if you need a proper escort to the hospital, just give a yell.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said with a grin.
After Tucker and Emma settled into the booth, Emma leaned toward him and whispered, “We’re giving a shower for Gwen at the day-care center on Monday evening.”
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that.”
Leaning back again, she said, “It was nice of you to offer to help them move.”
Tucker shrugged and picked up the menu, but he could feel Emma’s eyes on him. “What?” he asked when he looked up and she didn’t avert her gaze.
“What do you do for fun?” she asked.
“In my spare time I work on the house—outside work in the summer, inside in the winter. I’m going to drywall the basement, maybe get some exercise equipment.”
“I didn’t ask how you fill your spare time. What do you do for fun?”
“Isn’t fun enjoyment? I enjoy working on the house.”
She shook her head in exasperation. “Fun doesn’t have a goal. It’s just something that makes you laugh and relaxes you and has no purpose except to make you feel good.”
He thought about it for a few moments. “I play poker once a month with some of the guys from the department.”
She waited, but when he didn’t add anything else, she asked, “That’s it?”
“Entertainment’s a little limited in Storkville.”
“But Omaha’s less than an hour away. Do you date?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“That’s none of your business, Emma.” He didn’t want to get into that…not with her. A man dated for two reasons—to get his needs met or in the hopes that the dating would progress into something more. He wouldn’t use a woman simply to meet a physical need, and he didn’t want anything more.
Emma looked hurt by his blunt reply and leaned back against the booth, opening her menu.
An awkward silence fell over them and it lasted throughout supper. Emma commented on the good taste of the fried chicken. Tucker mentioned that the diner had great coconut cream pie. But neither of them ordered dessert. At the cash register Tucker paid their bill and after he received his change, Emma said, “We don’t have to go to the movies, if you have something else you’d rather do.”
He didn’t have something else he’d rather do. That was the hell of it. He liked being with her. “A movie will be good for us both. What do you want to see? The theater here only has two screens, so we don’t have much of a choice.” Tucker mentioned the names of the two movies. One was full of gunfire and bombs, the other was purported to be a romantic comedy. They chose the romantic comedy.
But once inside the theater, Tucker felt as if he’d miscalculated on a lot of fronts. Only about ten people sat in the whole place, and there was an intimacy in the theater that might not have existed in a packed house. Tucker guided Emma to two seats in the middle of the center row. If they were going to have the place practically to themselves, they might as well pick the best vantage point.
Emma folded her coat on the seat next to her, and Tucker did the same with his jacket and hat. When they sank onto the cushioned seats, their arms brushed and they both moved away. Tucker sincerely hoped he could get engrossed in the movie so he’d forget about the woman beside him.
But forgetting didn’t come easy, not when her perfume wafted toward him on a cold draft, not when she looked so delicate and exciting outlined in the shadows. He tried to concentrate on the characters on the screen and their dialogue, but he glanced at Emma often and felt a strange longing to hold her hand. What a ridiculous notion for a thirty-seven-year-old man who’d sown wild oats, gotten married, divorced and sworn off relationships!
His long legs didn’t quite have enough room and after a while, he shifted. But his trouser leg brushed Emma’s skirt, and the charge that jolted through him could have lit up all of Storkville. The few people in the audience laughed from time to time but Tucker was too distracted to let clever quips sink in. And when the couple on the screen had their first prolonged kiss, his shifting had nothing to do with his long legs.
The movie seemed never-ending. Finally the music swelled and the couple on the screen jet-setted into the sunset. Tucker breathed a sigh of relief. But when he looked over at Emma, he saw she was brushing a tear away.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I love happy endings.”
“It’s a shame they’re not true to life,” he murmured.
“You don’t believe love conquers all?” Her eyes were wide with innocent curiosity.
“No. I believe we survive the best we can.”
“Tucker!” she scolded. “Life is about more than surviving.” A certainty in her soft voice enfolded his heart.
The lights went on in the theater and Tucker saw Emma’s belief shining in her eyes. What would it be like not to have a past, to have a slate as clean as a field of fresh snow? Would Emma change when she remembered who she’d been? Or would she still have an ideal notion of the way the world should be?
Rather than responding, he stood, set his hat on his head and shrugged on his jacket. Before she could protest, he lifted her coat and held it for her. With a murmured thanks, she slipped into it. His fingers lingered on her collar under her hair. Such soft, silky hair. He could imagine it spread across his pillow—
With a mental oath, he pushed up his seat and crossed the aisle.
They walked to Tucker’s truck in silence. At the passenger door, Emma looked up at the sky. It was a velvet black, sprinkled with hundreds of stars. A crisp wind blew her hair across her cheek. Tucker resisted the urge to gently finger it, to brush it away, and he opened her door.
Once he was seated beside her in the truck, he didn’t start the engine. Unlike the sheriff’s SUV with the bucket seats, his truck had bench seats and Emma was less than six inches away. “Emma, in the restaurant, I didn’t mean to be so…”
“Blunt?” she filled in. “That’s okay, Tucker. You’re right. Your life isn’t any of my business. It’s just hard for me to remember that when we’re living under the same roof and when you know every…detail about me.”
The way she said it, he knew she had something specific in mind and he could guess what it was. “Does it bother you that I know you’re a virgin?”
“No…yes…I don’t know,” she murmured as if she was embarrassed by discussing it. “I think it makes you look at me in a certain way, and that makes you think I need your protection.”
“Someone protected you before me, Emma. The doctor says he thinks you’re in your early twenties. It’s rare nowadays for girls to be virgins past high school graduation.” He shifted to face her more squarely. “I know you belong to someone.”
She shook her head. “You don’t know anything of the sort, and neither do I. Sometimes in the middle of the night, I think about where I came from, and you know what I’ve decided?”
“What?”
“That maybe I was a princess kept hostage in a high tower and somehow I escaped and ran to Storkville, and now here I am.”
In the glow of the parking lot lights, he could see her smile. Nothing in the world could keep him from brushing her hair away from her cheek, from leaning closer. “I wish I could believe in your version,” he said, his voice husky.
“Believe it, Tucker.” She raised her chin slightly and although he knew he shouldn’t, he couldn’t keep his lips from meeting hers.
Even though she’d told herself she wasn’t expecting another kiss, and she shouldn’t even want another kiss, she waited for Tucker and let the heat of his lips engulf her. There was so much heat in him, so much passion that swept through her as his tongue stroked hers.
Yet as easily as he’d bent to her, he abruptly pulled away. She wondered why…if he still thought another kiss was a mistake, until she became aware of voices and saw a couple approaching the truck on the driver’s side. Tucker’s lawman instincts must have alerted him.
As the couple passed Tucker’s window, Emma recognized them. They had been sitting a few rows in front of her and Tucker inside the movie theater. The girl’s hair was thick, auburn and straight, drifting down her back. It blew in the wind. Suddenly Emma’s head started to pound. A pain lanced through her right temple, and she brought her hand up to it reflexively.
“Emma? What’s wrong?”
She heard the murmur of Tucker’s voice, yet not his words. She was lost somewhere, somewhere black that turned to gray and then a picture. She was brushing auburn hair and braiding it. The pain in her temple became worse and she saw herself tying a small blue bow on the end of the braid. Just as quickly as the vision had come, it vanished, and Emma felt breathless and shaken.
Tucker was clasping her arm now. “Emma, tell me what’s happening.”
“I saw…I saw something.”
“That couple who passed by?”
“The woman…she…her hair—” She knew she wasn’t making any sense and she tried to think past the throbbing in her head. “I got a headache and then, and then I was brushing someone’s hair and braiding it. It was auburn, just like that girl’s.”
Tucker reached up to Emma’s temples and massaged gently. “Did you see anything else?”
“A blue ribbon. I was tying a blue ribbon on the braid.”
Tucker’s voice remained steady and calm. “Can you see yourself? How old you are?”
“It’s gone, Tucker. I can’t see anything now.”
His fingers were comforting and sensual and although her head still pounded, the pain was diminishing.
“See if you can get it back again.”
She tried. She tried to see it once more. But she couldn’t, and she shook her head.
Yet he kept probing. “How old were you?” he asked again.
“I…I don’t know.”
“Could you tell how old the girl was? Was she a child, a teenager?”
“Tucker, I don’t know,” she responded, frustrated now. “I could only see her hair…my fingers on her braid…and the ribbon.”
“Okay,” he murmured, pulling her close to him, letting her head rest on his shoulder. “Try to relax. If you let your thoughts scatter, maybe it will come back.”
She knew what he was thinking, that she was trying too hard to remember, that the harder she tried, the less she’d see. He was probably right. But her heart was still pounding, and her head hurt, and he felt so good and safe and strong as she leaned into him.
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