When Baby Was Born. Jodi O'Donnell
until now how much she had doubted of what she knew.
Handing the note to him, she said triumphantly, “Your name, address and phone number are listed, along with some directions from the interstate, but as I said, there’s no signature—”
He made a strangled sound.
“Cade?” Sara asked.
All of her apprehension came back as she watched him study the note as if he were memorizing every pen stroke. It was the same way he’d looked at her—except she could see in that note he was finding recognition.
“What is it, Cade?” Still he didn’t answer her, his whole stance seeming carved in stone, and Sara instinctively clutched her baby to her breast.
When he finally moved, he did so with a speed that seemed fantastic, and at once had rounded the bed to the opposite bed stand. He picked up an envelope lying there. He tore into it, read its contents like one possessed.
Before her eyes, he turned pale as a ghost, and rather than shocked, as earlier, he looked utterly horrified.
“Cade, tell me, please!” Sara cried.
In two strides he was at her side. He practically shoved the envelope into her hand. His own closed around the sheets of writing it had contained, crushing them.
The envelope looked as if it had been handled tens of times, even though the postmark was only half a week old.
Then she saw what Cade obviously had: the envelope was addressed to him in the exact same handwriting as her note. The return address said “McGivern, Albuquerque, New Mexico.”
Meeting his gaze, Sara shook her head. “This is from…your brother?”
“Yes. My brother—Loren.” He watched her closely, obviously looking for some sign from her, but the name meant nothing to her.
“So I must know your brother, well enough that he’d give me your name in case of an emergency. He never mentioned that to you?”
“Funny, but it never seemed to’ve come up. Of course, this letter is the first contact I’ve had from him in seven years,” Cade answered.
He seemed to have distanced himself from her, was more like the cynical man she’d first encountered. Except now she knew what lay behind that hard exterior of his, and she couldn’t go back.
“Is that what’s wrong, Cade? You and your brother are estranged?” she pressed. “Was there some sort of falling out?”
He gave a mirthless laugh that she didn’t care for, not at all. “Oh, definitely. But now Loren writes to tell me he remarried some months ago, that his new wife is pregnant with his first child. And once that child is born, he doesn’t want him not to know his only uncle.”
Foreboding crept over Sara. Strange she should have any kind of presentiment when she remembered nothing of the past. Wouldn’t it have to be rooted in some event she remembered as already happening in her life?
But something had happened. As short as it was, she did have a past she remembered: she and Cade had shared the experience of her son’s birth. And she couldn’t go back to before.
She wanted to remind him of their pact to focus on this moment and not let either the past or the future stop them from living this moment to the fullest. She wanted to remind him of how he himself had allayed her fears with his own vow that still rang in her ears: Wherever both of you came from, you and your baby, you’re here now—in my house, in my bed, right where you need to be. For now, you belong here, with me. And I won’t let you down.
It had meant so much to her, kept her hanging on through the worst of the pain and fear. Oh, was she about to lose that, too?
She couldn’t!
Sara put a hand to her head, it was spinning so. She felt as if she were trapped and struggling in a quagmire of all the unknowns in her life, both past and to come. Maybe that was why she clung so desperately to the certainty of the here and now. Clung so desperately to Cade.
She didn’t want to ask her next question, but she knew she had to. Knew—because Cade knew the answer, and it would kill him not to say so. She owed him more than that.
“Your brother, Loren.” The name felt heavy on her tongue. But definitely not unfamiliar. “His wife…?”
Sara made herself lift her eyes to meet his, and wished she hadn’t. Memory or no, she had never seen a man look so bleak.
“My brother’s wife’s name,” he said, “is Sara.”
Chapter Three
Cade plunged out into the storm, head and hands bare and exposed to the freezing cold. At least he’d stopped to pull his wool-lined jacket from its peg and thrust it on, or he’d be completely at the mercy of the elements.
The icy bitterness felt good, though. It was like a great big hit of reality smack in the face, right where he obviously needed it.
Because the woman in his bed—the one in a moment of insanity he’d vowed was his and no other man’s—was his brother’s wife.
The very brother Cade had spent the past seven years wondering whether he would ever be forgiven by and, since receiving Loren’s letter, had begun to hope he had.
And it got worse from there. Stumbling through a snowdrift, Cade brutally forced himself to admit that yes, even after seeing Sara’s wedding band, he’d hoped her wearing it on a chain around her neck and not her finger had meant she might be free.
Free—to do what? He barely knew her!
So why didn’t it feel that way?
Yet there had to be a reason for her keeping the ring on a chain. Was it something Loren had done? When? From the way his brother wrote in his letter, it seemed as though the pregnancy was recent. Obviously, that wasn’t the case.
So what had happened? What could have happened, in just a few days? Of course, there was Sara’s amnesia, her claim she had no purse. Had they been held up on the highway, and his brother had tried to hold off their attackers so Sara could speed to safety?
Cade endured a moment of mortal fear for his brother’s safety, until he recalled the note in Loren’s handwriting. His brother had obviously anticipated sending his new wife to Cade, for whatever reason.
So what had happened with Marlene? Or maybe the question was, what happened to her, since Loren had loved her to such distraction Cade couldn’t imagine they’d split up voluntarily.
It was damned hard to get his head around all the changed perceptions that up until ten minutes ago had been well settled in his mind.
Then another possibility occurred to him? Was this a…a test of some sort? Cade couldn’t get behind that, not by a long shot! Loren would never do that to him, no matter how hurt and angry he’d been.
Cade had gone seven years, though, without one single, solitary word from the older brother he’d worshiped since he was old enough to walk.
Which brought him around to the real questions he wanted to ask Loren, the ones buffeting him like the pounding wind: Why aren’t you with Sara? How could you bear not to be with her so close to her hour of need?
Damn it, Loren had even been careless about her name! He’d written it as “Sarah,” over and over again, throughout the letter. But on the note to Cade, it was “Sara.” How could a man not know how to spell his wife’s name?
Somehow, Cade felt glad. Sarah—she was the one Loren had gone on about for pages, his words steeped in love and devotion.
But Sara—she’d been sent to him out of the storm, knowing nothing but the one certainty: once she found him, all would be well.
And she’d said it herself: he’d delivered her baby, and she would never