LITMIR.BIZ

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hyperventilating was not good. Which was what the woman was currently doing.

      “Hey, look at me.” He moved a hand to her cheek and angled her face toward him. Her wide, fearful eyes latched on to his. Their piercing blue hue and vulnerability socked Hunter in the solar plexus, grabbed him and held on tight. “I’m not going to leave you. We’re going to get you through this. I know you’re scared, but you need to calm down. Take slower, deeper breaths or you’re going to pass out.”

      She closed her eyes once, then refocused on him. Some of the panic in her gaze eased, and she slowed her breathing. She inhaled deeply, if shakily, and blew it out with a whimper.

      “That’s my girl.” He gave her a warm smile and squeezed her fingers. “Now...what’s your name?”

      She stared at him blankly for a moment, then frowned. “I...don’t know.”

      Hunter drew his eyebrows together, an uneasy stir in his gut. “You don’t know your name?”

      She blinked, clearly confused, and panic edged back into her eyes. “I don’t know! How could I not know?”

      He shifted his gaze to the gash on her forehead. “That cut on your temple says you hit your head in the crash. Do you remember anything about who you are or where you live? Are you married?”

      The pregnancy suggested she might have a husband somewhere who’d be worried about her, but her left hand had no rings. Although...his sister-in-law had stopped wearing her wedding ring during her last pregnancy because her hands had swelled.

      Tears filled her eyes, and a visible tremor shook her. “No. It’s all a blank. I just...have this feeling...something bad happened. That someone wants to hurt me...”

      He dabbed at the bleeding gash, where a goose egg was now swelling, with the hem of his shirt. “Okay, memory loss happens sometimes after you hit your head. Clearly that’s what’s happened, so...let’s see what clues we have in the car. Do you have a purse? A wallet with your driver’s license?”

      “I don’t knooooow....” The word evolved into another wail of agony, and with a grimace of misery, she gripped her stomach. “It hurts so much. Oh, God, don’t let anything happen to my baby!”

      “Breathe through the pain, honey.” Hunter stroked her hair with one hand and squeezed her fingers with his other. “Did you take a Lamaze class or anything?”

      Her blank gaze flicked to him. “I don’t—”

      “You don’t remember. Right.” He exhaled through pursed lips. Memory loss meant she wouldn’t remember who from her family or friends to call to be with her. He needed to find her wallet or her cell phone or something that would give them some helpful information. But at that moment, his first priority was keeping her calm. Delivering the baby, if it came to that. Damn! Where was that ambulance?

      A cold sweat popped out on his lip, but he swallowed the nausea that rose in him at the thought of delivering her baby. He had to keep it together for her sake. “All right. We can do this. You’re gonna be fine.”

      When she squeezed his hand back, he met her teary gaze.

      “Thank you, Hunter.” She raised her free hand to wipe her face and flicked him an attempt at smiling. “For staying. I’m scared, and I don’t want to be alone.”

      Hunter’s heart cracked, and he wiped the moisture from her cheeks with a crooked finger. “I won’t leave you alone. I promise.”

      His assurance seemed to relieve her mind, and she drew a slow, deep breath. When her next contraction hit, he coached her through the pain, reminding her to breathe deeply and slowly. She squeezed his hand with amazing strength, and when her pain eased, he dropped a light kiss on her forehead. “That’s it. You’re doing great.”

      Come on, ambulance! Anytime now!

      Between her contractions, Hunter searched the tumbled sedan, an older Honda Civic that reminded him of the jalopies Grant used to tinker with in their driveway when they were younger. The car was made pre–air bags...a safety feature that would have served the woman well today, judging from the growing bump on her head and her memory loss. There was nothing in the glove box that told him who she was or where she lived. No registration papers or car title. Odd. She didn’t seem to have a purse or wallet with her, either. Also strange based on the habits of the women he knew. And no cell phone? What was up with that? What woman in this day and age went anywhere without her cell phone?

      Hunter kept his frustration with her curious lack of identification to himself, not wanting to upset her further. Another contraction gripped her, and he shifted his attention to her again. She was bearing down, her teeth gritted, her forehead creased with effort.

      “Oh, hey, no!” Hearing his panic in his tone, he paused a moment and forced a smile. “Try not to push...yet. The ambulance is bound to be here soon. Just...hold on a little longer.” He dabbed again at the bleeding cut on her head and the perspiration rolling into her eyes. “Why don’t we focus on something else?”

      “Like wh-what?”

      He glanced around for an object that might hold some interest or personal meaning to her. Darby had called it a “focal point” when she’d had her daughter four years ago. Hunter had been charged with making sure the picture of his brother Connor, the baby’s father, whom they’d believed at the time was dead, made it to the hospital.

      He saw nothing but broken glass and crumpled metal—neither were images she needed to fix in her head. Then he spotted her keys, still dangling from the steering column. He slid the keys out of the ignition and found them hooked to a ring with two decorative additions—one was a metal crab that read I ♥ Cape Cod, and the other was a small wooden piece carved to spell out Brianna.

      “Brianna?” He jerked his gaze to her and held up the key chain. “Does that ring a bell? Is your name Brianna?”

      She stared at the key chain, a knit in her brow and a desperate look in her eyes that wrenched his heart. “I don’t know. Maybe? Why else would I have that on my keys?”

      “If they’re your keys,” he said, and the despondent look that crossed her face made him immediately regret voicing his doubt. “Forget I said that. I’m sure they are.” He forced a grin to his mouth. “So...Brianna. That’s a pretty name. For a pretty lady.”

      Her cheek twitched in a weak smile of acknowledgment. Clearly she wasn’t in the mood for compliments, no matter how well intended.

      Another contraction seized her, and he held the keys in front of her. “Focus on the keys. Think about tranquil walks on Cape Cod. The soothing sound of the ocean.”

      She gave him a dubious, uncertain look as she struggled to breathe deeply.

      “Well, the key ring says you love Cape Cod. I figured it was worth a shot.” He rubbed her arm and crooned, “That’s it, Brianna. You’re doing great. Deep breath in, and blow it out through your mouth.”

      She followed his coaching like a champion, and pride tugged in Hunter’s chest.

      The distant wail of a siren filtered through the autumn air, and relief loosened anxiety’s grip on his gut. “Hey, hear that? The cavalry is coming.”

      Rather than happiness, concern darkened her eyes, and she gripped his hand tighter. “Don’t go. You said you’d stay with me. Please?”

      Her plea tangled in the deepest part of him, and warmth filled his veins. “I won’t leave. I just have to make way for the EMTs to help you. They’ll take you to the hospital, where the doctors and nurses can give you and your baby the care you need.”

      A tear dripped onto her cheek, and her sweaty grip tightened on his hand again. “I don’t want to be alone. I’m scared, Hunter. I know it sounds crazy, but I have this feeling...someone wants to hurt me. Hurt my baby.”

      “That’s probably just part of the disorientation because of your amnesia.”

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