LITMIR.BIZ

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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.”

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