.
He would work things out for His good.
“Yes. He is. And, you’re right—the NYPD is doing everything in its power to bring Martin in. I just... I don’t want you to worry. Not now. Now, with the baby’s birth so close.”
“I’m trying not to,” she said, pasting on another phony smile. She wanted to relax and enjoy the last days and weeks before the baby arrived, but how could she not worry? Martin Fisher was out there somewhere. So far, he had stayed away, but she knew that might not last forever. He might be biding his time, waiting for the right opportunity to come after her. She was the object of his obsession, the reason he had killed Jordan and, maybe, the purpose behind his escape. If he did come after her, there were three possible outcomes.
He could kidnap her and hide her somewhere she’d never be found. In his twisted mind, the baby would be his.
He could kill her—in the classic “if I can’t have you, no one can” scenario.
He could try either of the above, and the NYPD would get to him first.
She was counting on the third option. Jordan had been the chief of the NYC K-9 Command Unit. His three brothers were all cops. They were committed to apprehending Martin before he could cause more harm.
She would be safe. Her baby would be safe. Katie had to be believe that.
“Here we are,” the nurse said, pushing open a door at the end of the hall. Young, with a bright smile and eyes the color of dark chocolate, she knew why Katie was being seen in the doctor’s office rather than an exam room. Everyone who worked at the clinic was aware of the circumstances surrounding the pregnancy—that the baby’s father had been murdered, that he had been one of New York’s finest.
What they didn’t know—what they couldn’t—was how loved Jordan had been. How kind. How good of a father he had planned to be.
“Thank you,” Katie murmured, blinking back tears.
She hated crying in public.
Just like she hated the pity she could see in the nurse’s eyes.
“Is there anything I can get you while you’re waiting?” the nurse asked.
“I’m good.” Katie stepped into the doctor’s office, took a seat on one of the leather chairs that faced his desk and dropped her purse on the floor near her feet. She had been in this room before. Just a week after Jordan had died, she had attended her first prenatal appointment. Dr. Ritter had met with her here before taking her to the exam room.
“Okay. You let me know if you change your mind. Dr. Ritter will be with you shortly. He’s just delivered a baby, but he’ll arrive at the clinic soon. Your next prenatal exam is scheduled for next week, right?”
“Yes.”
“Who knows?” The nurse smiled. “Maybe the baby will be here before then.”
“Wouldn’t that be lovely!” Ivy exclaimed, her cheerfulness a little too bright and a little too brittle. The previous day, she had been talking excitedly about the Thanksgiving meal she was planning. Ivy was the consummate hostess. She loved to cook and entertain, and she had invited a dozen people to join the family for Thanksgiving.
The house would be full.
But, one Jordan-sized space would remain empty.
Ivy was as aware of that as Katie.
The nurse smiled again and departed.
For a moment, the room was silent except for the soft hum of the heat blowing through the floor vents.
Ivy cleared her throat and settled into the chair next to Katie. “It’s going to be okay,” she said.
“I know,” Katie lied.
She didn’t know.
No matter how much she wanted to trust God’s plan, she couldn’t stop worrying that she wouldn’t be enough for the child she was carrying. Good enough. Smart enough. Strong enough. Loving enough. Parent enough to make up for the fact that the baby didn’t have a father.
This wasn’t the plan, God.
This wasn’t what was supposed to happen.
How am I going to do this alone?
How many times had she prayed those words since Jordan had died?
Too many.
And, there was never any answer. Never any clear direction as to how she could be all of the things the baby would need.
“You don’t look like you know it,” Ivy replied. She had aged since Jordan’s death; lines that had not been there before bracketed her mouth and fanned out from her eyes. She was a beautiful woman. Strong. Determined. But, losing her son had cost her.
“Like I said, I’m tired. It’s hard to sleep with this one kicking me in the ribs all night.” She patted her belly. No fake smile this time. She was too tired to try.
“I remember those days,” Ivy said with a soft smile. “Jordan was especially prone to keeping me up. It’s not surprising that his child is the same.” She reached out and laid her hand on the swell of Katie’s abdomen.
When she pulled away, there were tears in her eyes. “He would have loved this.”
“Yes, he would have.”
“And, he would have been a great father. He was always so good with children.”
“The kids at school loved him,” Katie agreed.
Jordan had been born and raised in Queens, and he had had a passion for mentoring the youth there. He had often visited schools with his K-9 partner, Snapper. He had also taught self-defense classes at the local YMCA. He had been Katie’s instructor when she had moved to New York and taken a self-defense class. Just in case.
A year later, he had visited the school where she was teaching. They’d bumped into each other in the hall. The rest had happened fast. Long conversations. Walks in the park. Jokes. Laughter.
Love.
Marriage.
They should have had their happily-ever-after.
Instead, Katie was alone. Getting ready to give birth to their baby.
“I wish I’d asked the nurse to bring me something to drink,” she murmured, her throat tight with emotion.
“They have water in the waiting room. And, coffee. Would you like me to bring you something?” Ivy offered.
“Would you mind? I’d love a cup of water.”
“Of course, I don’t mind. Should you stay here alone, though? The boys would have my head if they thought I’d left you unattended even for a minute.”
“I’ll be fine, Ivy,” Katie assured her. “Don’t worry. You’ll be back in five seconds.”
Ivy looked unsure, but then stood and hurried from the room.
Just as Katie had hoped she would. She didn’t want to talk about Jordan. Not now. Not when she felt exhausted and emotional. She wanted to keep focused on the birthing plan, on staying safe, on making sure she did what her brothers-in-law and the police asked her to. Since Martin’s escape, the Jameson brothers had been escorting her almost everywhere. Today, though, they were attending a training seminar in Manhattan. They’d asked fellow K-9 officer Tony Knight to run patrols past the medical clinic. They’d told her to be careful and aware. To stay close to their mother. To listen to her gut.
Right now, her gut was saying she was exhausted. That she needed to sleep. That she didn’t want to think about the danger or the tragedy.
Someone knocked on the door.
“Come in,” she called, bracing herself for the meeting with Dr. Ritter.
The