LITMIR.BIZ

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before her husband died.

      Pamela hummed a lullaby and touched the rosy cheek of the beautiful baby in her arms. A perfect daughter. Unlike Christopher, the child from hell. A child with no conscience who, even when he grew up, never felt the need for one.

      Thank God his father had finally found an alternative. After yet another stupid stunt, he’d told Christopher to choose the army or jail. Christopher had picked the army, so now he was trained to kill, with no conscience to stop him. Pamela shivered, even though the temperature hadn’t turned cold. Every day she prayed she’d get a telegram, or a knock at the door, along with a military chaplain saying her son was dead, and the world was a safer place for it.

      What a blessing that would be.

      A key sounded in the lock. She tensed. Her husband was dead. Her son was gone.

      No one should have a key.

      “I’m home.”

      Oh, my God. Christopher.

      Pamela vaulted out of her chair, clutching the infant in her arms. What was he doing here? Her son wasn’t due for leave from deployment for another six months.

      She couldn’t deal with his horrible temper, his manic and depressive rages. Not now. What was she going to do? He’d kill her if he found out the truth about what she’d done. She settled the baby in the nearby cradle and rose from the rocker.

      He could never find out.

      Heavy steps clunked across the hardwood floor. She bit her lip.

      The tall, strapping man, as handsome and dangerous as his father, strode across the room, the once long, shaggy hair now cut military short. He dropped his duffel in the marble-covered foyer.

      “No hug for your baby boy?”

      He gave her a smile. A smile she hadn’t seen since he’d become a teenager.

      She allowed herself a smidgen of hope. Was the good Christopher back? She embraced him carefully like one would a cobra. He could be that lethal.

      Her son stared at her. “Is the baby sleeping?”

      She nodded, her throat closed off in fear. Would he be able to tell?

      With a grin, he crossed to the cradle and stared at the infant. “She’s even more beautiful than her pictures. Chubby, rosy cheeks. You’ve been plumping her up. I’m glad. She was so pale in the last set of photos.” He kissed the top of the baby’s head. “I’m home now, kiddo. Anyone messes with you, and they’re dead.”

      Pamela turned so he wouldn’t see the tears trailing down her cheeks, tears that were an all-too-common occurrence these days. Her arms felt empty again. She picked up the baby and then faced her son. Forcing a false smile into place, she reached a trembling hand to Christopher. “I’m glad you’re home,” she lied. “Safe with us. Safe and sound.”

      “I opted out early. I’m back for good.”

      She tried to swallow down the terror that clutched at her heart. This wouldn’t work. She couldn’t keep the truth from him forever. Someone would tell him, or he would guess.

      Why was this happening?

      Pamela hadn’t thought he could leave the service before his five-year enlistment was up. Nothing had worked out like she’d planned.

      Everything was so hard now. So wrong.

      The baby squirmed in Pamela’s arms and opened her striking green eyes.

      “Hello, beautiful,” he said, scooping up the baby from his mother’s arms.

      He walked across the room, past the darkened hearth, then sat in his father’s chair, an obvious act of defiance to the man he’d hated.

      Christopher examined the infant in his arms. “She reminds me of someone. Who do you think?”

      Pamela swallowed, unwilling to answer. She had to get him out of here, away from the baby. She would have to come up with some way to hide the truth.

      The television volume rose as a news banner flashed across the screen.

      Breaking news. Trouble, Texas.

      The picture of a battered and bloody woman took up the entire screen.

      Pamela almost cried out in shock at the sight. With a trembling hand, she grabbed the remote and pressed the volume control so she could hear.

      “The sheriff’s office revealed the woman was found in an abandoned mine west of Trouble. Referred to as Jane Doe, she cannot identify herself due to a head injury. They’re asking anyone who knows or has seen this woman to contact them immediately.”

      Pamela dropped the remote. She glanced at her son, then swayed. “This can’t be happening. That woman is supposed to be dead. She tried to steal my baby.”

      Chapter Three

      “Open your eyes, darlin’. Please.”

      Daniel’s soft, deep voice soothed Raven’s senses. She wanted to do what he asked, but she couldn’t seem to function. She hurt too much. The rhythmic pulses slammed in her temples like a bass drum reverberating through her mind. She wanted to let sleep overtake her again, except for some urgent feeling that drove her to wake up and move. She needed help for some reason. His help. For something very important...

      Dazed, she struggled to lift her lids. Through her lashes, unfamiliar images coalesced. The room was dark, save a low light glowing from above the headboard. An IV and monitor were hooked up by her bed. Panic started, then she heard someone speak again.

      “That’s it. Wake up now. Just a little more.”

      It was Daniel. What a relief. She knew his voice. Trusted his voice.

      A callused finger traced her forehead, and she peered blearily over at the fuzzy double image of the man sitting beside her.

      “There you go. Keep those beautiful eyes open.”

      “Daniel.” His face, handsome and troubled, held her enthralled. He was familiar. The only thing that was. She reached up and touched his cheek, the one with the scar.

      He clasped her hand in his and drew it away. “Don’t exert yourself. Are you really awake this time?” he asked. “Awake enough to answer some questions?”

      “I think so,” she croaked.

      Daniel gave her a small smile, and she could see the relief in his eyes.

      “But I don’t know where I am.”

      “We’re in Trouble, Texas, at their medical clinic. You had me worried, passing out like you did.”

      She licked her lips. Her mouth was so dry. “My head hurts. I can’t think straight.”

      “I’ll tell the nurse. Want some water?” he asked.

      “Please.”

      He cupped her head and held a straw next to her lips. With one sip, the cold fluid coated her throat. She smiled at him. He knew just what she needed.

      Even that small movement made the throbbing restart. She lifted her hand to her temple and encountered a bandage. “What’s this? What happened?”

      “Before or after the cave-in?” he asked.

      “Cave-in?” Hazy images of darkness and falling rocks assailed her. The scent of panic and fear, from a...a dog and Daniel. Dust. Blood. There were some memories there, but none were very clear. She touched the bandage once more. “How did I do this? Did the rocks hit me? What was I doing in a stupid cave anyway?”

      “I don’t know the answers to all your questions, but falling rocks only did some of the damage.” He leaned forward, glancing at the curtain. “Look, I don’t have much time before someone comes in, but I do want to help you. Can you try to think about being

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