B.J. Daniels - A Father For Her Baby

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Extract Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

Copyright Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t found her,” the angry voice bellowed on the other end of the phone line.

That was the last thing Sanders Killhorn wanted to tell his brother, Derrick.

“A woman that pregnant can’t have just disappeared into thin air,” Derrick snapped.

But Derrick’s wife had done exactly that. Disappeared. Seven months of searching, and Sanders had found no trace of Kit. He crossed the room to the motel window, dragging the phone with him, and peered out. The sun hung on the Dallas skyline, fiery red. As red as Kit’s hair.

“What about the guy who said he’d seen her in Texas City?” Derrick demanded.

“I talked to him.” Behind Sanders, only the flickering television screen lit the nondescript motel room as another day dissolved into darkness and defeat. “He was only interested in the reward. He didn’t know anything.”

Derrick swore loudly. “I won’t rest until I find my son.”

His son? Sanders felt a chill. Derrick had no way of knowing if Kit had given birth to a boy. His brother’s obsession with having a son scared him—just as it had Kit. Was that why she’d taken off?

“Someone has to have seen her,” Derrick said. “Maybe she’s cut her hair or dyed it.”

Sanders couldn’t imagine Kit doing either. But then, he couldn’t imagine her taking off like she’d done, at nine months’ pregnant. Hadn’t she known Derrick would never stop looking for her? Especially with her carrying his baby?

Sanders had tracked her from the Bozeman, Montana bus station, where she’d abandoned Derrick’s truck, as far as the Dallas, Texas bus station. After that, she had vanished.

He’d checked every bus, train and airplane. And all the hospitals within a two-hundred-mile radius. No Kit Bannack Killhorn had given birth. At least not under her real name. Nor had anyone matching her description.

He’d also checked birth certificates for a two-month period. No Bannack. No Killhorn. Even the private investigator his brother had hired had come up empty-handed.

Sanders had grown weary of looking for his sister-in-law and wanted more than anything to return home to Montana. Especially with Christmas just days away.

“Something has to have happened to her,” Derrick was saying. “Maybe she was in an accident and can’t remember—”

The rest of his brother’s words were lost as Sanders caught a familiar image out of the corner of his eye. He turned to stare at the television screen.

Kit’s face stared back.

* * *

IN A MOTEL ROOM across from Sanders’s room, Luke stared at the same newscast, the same face on the TV screen, the same woman he’d also been chasing for seven months.

Just moments before, Luke had been electronically eavesdropping on Sanders’s conversation with Derrick Killhorn and calling himself a fool. All this time, he’d been shadowing Sanders, hoping the man and his resources would lead him to Kit. But he was beginning to doubt even the great Killhorns could find the woman. And even if they did, Luke couldn’t be sure she had the answers he so desperately needed.

He was ready to give up, admit he’d been wrong. He was sick of motel rooms, rental cars and eating out of foam containers. He was sick of tailing Sanders, and he damned sure hadn’t done any good finding Kit on his own.

When her face flashed on the television screen, Luke gaped in disbelief, adrenaline singing through his veins. I was right. Dammit, I was right. He felt a jolt of satisfaction, followed quickly by fear and regret so strong that he could taste it. Dear God, I was right.

He kicked up the volume on the TV.

“…after an arsonist started a fire that destroyed the small private Galveston hospital last June.”

Kit sat wrapped in a hospital blanket, the blazing building behind her. Her eyes caught the camera; her hand went up to shield her face from view. The image lasted only a few seconds, then was gone.

Luke cursed as he realized the newscast wasn’t about Kit, but about a woman whose kidnapped baby had been returned to her.

What did any of that have to do with Kit?

A doctor came on the screen. Dr. Bernard explained that three women had given birth on June third at the Galveston hospital just before the fire broke out. The mothers and their babies had been evacuated separately. It wasn’t until later that authorities realized one of the babies had been kidnapped. The arson was still under investigation.