LITMIR.BIZ

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wind stung her cheeks, and she shivered as the world shifted and moved beneath her. A door opened, warmth replaced cold, and she knew she should open her eyes, look around, see where she was. Instead, she let her head rest against solid warmth, let herself drift away again.

      “Chance! You scared twenty years off my life!” A female voice pulled her from darkness, and she opened her eyes, saw nothing but thick black leather. A coat. Chance’s coat. Images flashed through her mind. Blue-gray eyes and a hard, handsome face. New memories, not the missing ones, but at least she had them.

      She just needed to turn her head, and she’d see the woman who’d spoken, but Rayne wasn’t sure moving was a good idea. Her stomach churned, bile rising up as Chance shifted his grip.

      “Sorry, Mom. Rayne insisted on leaving the hospital and coming back to take care of Emma.”

      “She’s a good mother. I wouldn’t have expected anything less. How is she doing?”

      “Probably about as good as she looks.”

      About as good as she looked?

      She must look horrible.

      “Just so you know, I’m awake, and I can hear every word you’re saying. If you plan on going into excruciating details about how terrible I look, I’d rather you not.” She managed to lift her head, and met the eyes of a sixty-something woman with salt-and-pepper curls and a barely lined face.

      “You’re beautiful, bruises and all, my dear. Put her on the couch, Chance. It’s warmer than the back bedroom.”

      “You mean the room I spent eighteen years of my life in?”

      “Your father and I offered to let you sleep upstairs when you were five, but you were afraid the bogeyman would get you.”

      “Yeah, and by the time I was a teenager, I liked the idea of ground-floor windows.”

      “If we’d known that, we’d probably have insisted that you take one of the rooms in the upstairs apartment.”

      “That’s exactly why you didn’t know.” Chance carried Rayne into a dark living room and set her on a couch that faced an oversize stone fireplace.

      “Thanks. Next time, I’ll carry you,” she said, and he smiled, his face softening, his eyes warm in the darkness.

      “I’m not sure we’d both survive that. You’re kind of puny.”

      “Puny? I’m strong as an ox.”

      “But much prettier,” he said, and then frowned, backing away, letting his mother move in to cover Rayne with a blanket.

      “How are you feeling, dear?”

      “I’m okay.”

      “Thank the Lord. I was worried sick when you didn’t come home after work. You’ve never been late before.”

      “I’m sorry I worried you.”

      “Please, don’t apologize. I’m just glad I knew enough to be worried. Another couple of hours in that ditch, and you could have frozen to … Well, it doesn’t bear thinking about. You’re going to be okay, and that’s all that matters.” She patted Rayne’s hand, the motherly gesture reminding Rayne of all the things she’d left behind in Arizona.

      “In case you’re wondering, Rayne, this is my mother, Lila Richardson.”

      “You’re introducing me as if I haven’t been her landlord for a couple of months.” Lila laughed, apparently not realizing how serious the situation was.

      Nearly two months in Washington.

      Not even one memory.

      “She has partial amnesia, Mom. She doesn’t remember anything after she left Arizona.”

      Lila’s amusement slipped away, and she patted Rayne’s hand again. “I’m so sorry, Rayne. I didn’t mean to make light of things. Tell you what, I’ll bring you some tea. That should help you relax and sleep.”

      “I’d like to see Emma first.” She sat up, ignoring the pain and dizziness that followed. She couldn’t sleep, wouldn’t sleep until she saw Emma, made sure she was okay. No matter how well she might have known Lila before the accident, Rayne knew nothing about her now. The nurse’s words had been comforting, but something niggled at Rayne’s mind every time she thought of her daughter. Fear. She knew the feeling, had felt it the day she’d had a gun pointed at her head, but she shouldn’t be feeling it now, sitting in a cozy living room.

      She needed to see Emma.

      Needed to hold her.

      Need to make sure that her fears were unfounded, that her daughter really was safe.

      “She’s in the guest room. Chance, why don’t you bring her out here? That way Rayne won’t have to get up.”

      “I’m not sure waking a baby up at two in the morning is a good idea,” Chance said, not moving.

      He was right, of course.

      It didn’t make sense to pull Emma out of bed, but Rayne was going to see her. She stood, all the blood draining from her head.

      “Careful.” Chance eased her back down onto the sofa, and she knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

      “It won’t hurt Emma to see her mommy, and I know you’ll sleep better once you’ve seen her,” Lila said. “Don’t put anymore mother guilt on her, Chance. She’s been through enough without adding that into the mix. You go get the baby while I make the tea. Rayne, you just stay right where you are and let us take care of you.”

      Let them take care of her?

      Wasn’t that breaking rule number one?

      Rayne was certain it was, but she did exactly what Lila said.

      Sat.

      Right there on the couch. Waiting for other people to take care of her and her daughter.

      Mother guilt?

      Yeah. She knew all about that. Had felt it almost every day since Chandra died and she’d become Emma’s legal guardian.

      Guilt because she had to work.

      Guilt because she didn’t spend every minute of every day caring for her daughter.

      Guilt because she hadn’t been there to see Emma roll over for the first time, crawl for the first time.

      You’re not ready to be a mother, Rayne.

      In some ways, Michael had been right, but Rayne wasn’t sure any woman was ever truly prepared for motherhood. She just had to work hard to be the best mother she could be. That would be enough.

      She hoped.

      “Do you want me to get her, Rayne?” Chance asked.

      Such an easy question to answer, but Rayne’s brain seemed to be misfiring, her thoughts scattered. “I don’t know.”

      “Then I’ll get her.” He walked across the room and down a narrow hallway, and she waited, afraid to move for fear the room would move with her.

      Seconds later, Chance reappeared, Emma resting against his shoulder. Bright red hair. Big blue eyes, slowly blinking open. Chubby cheeks. She had little of Chandra’s dark exotic beauty, though the almond shape of her eyes and the fullness of her lips reminded Rayne of her childhood friend.

      “There she is, kid. Mommy is home.” Chance shifted Emma so she could see Rayne, and the baby reached out, babbling excitedly.

      “Mamamamamama.”

      Chance set her on Rayne’s lap, and the scent of baby lotion and formula filled Rayne’s nose. It was the best kind of perfume. The most wonderful aroma.

      She smiled, kissing Emma’s

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