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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

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