“I suppose she does.” His mother tilted her head as she turned her gaze back to the nursery. “You had such dark hair when you were born. You came out wide awake, alert, and curious, ready to take on the world. I knew you would challenge me every step of the way, and you did.” She drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out, then turned toward him. “I want to set you free. I should have never made my burden yours to carry. I was wrong, and I’ve regretted it for a long time. I never thought it would change your life the way it has. Whatever you need to do to be happy, you should do.”
Shane couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He’d waited years for her to say those words. Why had she said them now? Was she really setting him free, or trying to make him carry a bigger part of the burden?
When he remained silent, she said, “I thought you’d be happier.”
“I don’t trust you.”
She sucked in a painful breath. “I guess I deserve that. But I’m being sincere, Shane. You paid a big price for my past. It was easy for me to pretend you were having a wonderful time, traveling the world, living out your dreams, but I was just trying to make myself feel better. You’re my son—I love you. I know it doesn’t mean anything to you to hear that, but it’s the truth. This little baby reminded me that you were once that innocent, too. I’m sorry, Shane.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “I hope someday
you’ll forgive me.”
He didn’t know if he ever could.
Kara stared at the ceiling of her hospital room. It was nine o’clock at night and she was exhausted, but she couldn’t sleep. She was a mother now. She had a child. And she was alone.
Well, not completely alone. She could hear her family chattering outside. They’d already been in to visit, offering a never-ending stream of well-intentioned smiles. No one mentioned Colin. They just went on and on about the baby.
She wanted them to go home. She didn’t want to talk anymore, or cry or think. She just wanted to sleep. But when she closed her eyes, all she could see was Colin’s still body. She’d been so sure he would wake up when the baby came. Now her hope was gone.
It was over. Colin was lost to her.
The nurse came into the room with a warm smile. “Your daughter is awake. Shall I bring her to you? Would you like to give breast-feeding a try?”
“I’m too tired,” Kara said listlessly. “I can’t do it right now.”
The nurse looked a little surprised. And why not—didn’t all new mothers want to see their babies? Kara felt horribly guilty and even more depressed, but
she just couldn’t give any more of herself right now.
“All right,” the nurse said. “We can give her a bottle in the nursery. Is there anything else you need? Are you having any pain?”
Did the pain in her heart count? “I’m fine. Could you tell my family that I’m going to sleep and they can go home?”
“Of course.” The nurse left, hitting the light switch and shutting the door behind her.
A stream of moonlight peeked through the part in the curtains. The storm had passed, but not for her. Her bottom lip trembled and she wanted to cry again, but there weren’t any tears left. She and Colin were separated by only a few miles, but the distance between them had never been so great. This was not the way it was supposed to be.
The door opened again and she stiffened, ready to order whoever it was out of the room, but Charlotte’s determined expression gave her pause. She swallowed a knot of emotion as she saw the baby in Charlotte’s arms—her baby. No one else had dared to bring her daughter to her. They’d all tiptoed around her feelings, too afraid of how she’d react.
Charlotte turned on the bedside lamp and sat down next to Kara. Kara knew that look of steel in her eyes; she wasn’t going away without a fight.
“I was sleeping,” she said.
“No, you weren’t. You were lying here thinking about how screwed up your life is. And it is, but you have a beautiful child. She needs you, Kara. And
you need her.”
Kara didn’t know why it was so difficult to look at her child. She’d wanted this baby more than anything in the world. They’d struggled for years to get pregnant. She had danced with joy when she found out they were expecting, but now . . .
“Look,” Charlotte ordered. “She has your beautiful red hair and your pretty eyes and your big mouth—she’s been wailing up a storm in the nursery. But I think she might have Colin’s nose. Hopefully she’ll grow into it.”
“She does not have his nose,” Kara protested, her gaze drawn to her baby. But she was wrong; that narrow nose was all Colin. Her breath stalled in her chest. Reality hit her in the face.
Her baby was real. She was
here.
She lived and breathed. And Kara knew why it was so hard to see her: because as happy as she was to finally meet her baby, her daughter’s birth meant the death of her other dream—of Colin waking up in time to see his child come into the world. And if he hadn’t woken up now, maybe he never would.
But that wasn’t her daughter’s fault.
And now that she was looking, Kara couldn’t tear her gaze away. Her heart filled with love. She held out her arms, and Charlotte placed the baby within her embrace.
The hole in her heart didn’t feel quite so big anymore.
“Hello, baby,” she whispered. Her daughter
squirmed a little, her mouth bunching up as if she were about to cry. “It’s okay. Mommy’s here.” She looked at Charlotte. “Thank you.”
Charlotte smiled back at her. “You’re very welcome. I’ll be back in a little while. If you get tired just buzz the nurse, and she’ll take the baby back to the nursery.”
As Charlotte left the room, Kara settled back against the pillows. It felt so strange to have her baby in her arms instead of inside of her. She played with her child’s tiny fingers, amazed that she and Colin could have created this little person.
A few minutes later she felt an odd warmth in the air, as if someone had just turned the heater up. A small breeze blew against her face. She looked toward the door, wondering if it was open, but it was still closed. The room was dim, lit only by the table lamp by her bed, and in the shadows she saw a ghostly shape take form.
It was Colin. Her heart stopped. His green eyes were open, looking right at her. He was smiling. He was happy. He was upright and talking . . .
“Our daughter looks just like you,”
he said.
“She’s beautiful, Kara, and so are you. My girls.”
“She has your nose,” Kara said. “And her toes curl in just like yours. We made a beautiful little girl.”
“Yes, we did.”
“We need you, Colin.”
“I’ll always be with you—in your heart.”
“I want
more
than memories. I want to hear your
big, booming laugh and listen to your tall tales, and feel your touch on my skin and your kiss on my lips. I want my husband back. It’s so lonely without you.”
“I miss you, too.”
“How can I go on without you? Every time she smiles or cries, I’m going to be looking for you. When she crawls and takes her first step, I’ll want her to be able to run to you. I’ll want you to be able to catch her when she falls. But most of all, I want to share her life with you. We’re partners.”
“I want all that, too. But whatever happens, you’ll be all right. You’ll tell her about me.”
He smiled at her.
“You may not have me, but you have my heart, always. Be happy. I couldn’t bear it if you weren’t. Don’t wait around for me; go on with your life. Raise our little girl. I love you, Kara.”
“Don’t go,” she cried, but he was already fading. “We love you, too.”
Her words hung in the air and the room had gone from warm to cool. She was overwhelmed by fear. Had Colin found a way to say good-bye?
She reached for the phone by her bed and punched in the number she knew so well, then asked the nurse to check on Colin, to make sure he was all right. She held her breath until the nurse came back on the phone and told her Colin was just the same, no change.
Hanging up the phone, Kara cradled her daughter tighter in her arms. “It’s going to be all right,” she told her. “I didn’t want to do this alone, but I’m not really alone, am I? I have you.” She drew in a breath as a tear slid down her cheek. “And your daddy wants us to be happy. So we’re going to have to try—for him. For better or worse, we’re in this together. You and me, kid. You and me.”
The sun always comes up.
Colin used to say that whenever she was depressed or worried. And as the nurse entered her room after breakfast and handed her daughter to her, Kara realized it was true. Not only was it a new day, but she was blessed. Her child was healthy. That’s what mattered most. She tried not to think about the long future ahead as a single mother; there was too much darkness in that thought to be beaten down by a few rays of sunlight.
A knock came at her door, and Jason stepped into the room. She smiled, happy to see him out of uniform. He’d been working double shifts so he wouldn’t think about Colin, and it had been taking a toll on him. But today he looked relaxed in his jeans and sweater, younger and more carefree. In the future, she couldn’t let him continue to be a stand-in for Colin. He needed to have his own life, and she needed to make sure he had it.
“I see you decided to have this kid without me,” Jason said as he approached. “And after you made
me watch that disgusting movie, too. You owe me big time.”
“She was determined to come out. Believe me, I tried to stop her. And you should thank me for not calling you—the real thing was a lot worse than that movie.”
“I would have come if you’d called.”
“I was well taken care of. I had Shane, Lauren, and eventually Charlotte. I didn’t want to leave Colin’s side; I was convinced that my labor would make him wake up. I pretty much drove everyone nuts.”
“There’s a big surprise,” he said with a grin.
“I know I can be stubborn. And I’m not giving up on Colin, but there’s no time table anymore.”
Jason tilted his head thoughtfully. “Something’s changed. You sound more . . . accepting.”
“I’m a mother now. I have to put her first, before myself and before Colin. He’d want it that way.”
“He would,” Jason agreed. “And he’d be very proud of you. I know I am.”
“I’m kind of proud of me, too,” she said with a sheepish smile. “I managed to breast-feed her last night, and I’ve even changed a diaper. I think I might be good at this.”
He grinned. “Just don’t get too confident. I hear babies undergo a personality change when they leave the hospital. They don’t actually sleep all the time.”
“Really? Because this has been pretty easy so far.”
Gazing down at the child in her arms, he teased, “It’s hard to believe any baby this pretty has Colin as a father.”
It was the kind of thing Jason would have said if Colin were here, and for a moment it made her feel like he was. “Do you want to hold her?”
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
“You won’t break her, Jason.” She put the baby in his reluctant arms and he held her awkwardly, but with all the care in the world.
“You’re a lucky girl,” he said, gazing down at the baby. “You have two great parents, the best in the world.” Then he looked at Kara. “I can’t believe she’s so small.”
“She didn’t feel small coming out of me.”
“You can skip the details.” The baby scrunched up her face. “Uh-oh, she’s not happy. She wants you.” He quickly handed her back to Kara.
“And here I thought you had a way with the ladies,” she said, rocking her daughter back to sleep.
“I like them a little older,” he said with a familiar twinkle in his eyes.
She was glad to see his lighter side returning. “So tell me what’s going on outside this room. I feel like I’ve been in isolation the last couple of days. I heard about Mark Devlin’s accident. Any leads?”
“As a matter of fact, yes,” Jason said. “The chief is interviewing her right now.”
“Her?” Kara asked in surprise. “Who on earth are you talking about?”
“Erica Sorensen.”
“The coach’s wife?
She
ran down Mr. Devlin? Oh, my God!”
“She must have thought that Devlin had something on her husband,” Jason said.
“Which would mean . . . that Coach Sorensen was somehow involved in Abby’s death?”
“It’s possible.”
Kara couldn’t believe it. “He was old and married!”
“He was only in his mid-twenties when Abby was in high school, and all the girls thought he was good-looking.”
Kara shook her head. “Are you sure Erica didn’t run Mr. Devlin down by accident?”
“We’ll find out. I must admit, I’m a little relieved to have Tim Sorensen as a suspect in Abby’s death,” Jason continued. “I didn’t like the scenario featuring me as the killer.”
“That was a ridiculous theory—although you haven’t been very open with me. I get the feeling you knew Abby better than you’ve said.”
He dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans and sighed. “I hooked up with her one night after a party. I didn’t think it was a big deal, but maybe she did. I don’t know. I hooked up with a lot of girls. I was a teenage boy.”
“So you were with Abby and Lisa a couple of nights before she died?”
“Yes, but that was a couple of months after Abby and I hooked up. I thought we were cool. And it was
the three of us; Lisa was there, too. We just drove around. If we were spying on the coach’s house, I didn’t know about it.”
“I believe you. And with Erica’s arrest, maybe the police can finally solve Abby’s murder.”
“That’s the hope. Unfortunately, even if we can tie the hit-and-run to Erica, we’re a long way from arresting anyone for Abby’s death.”
“I did it to protect my husband,” Erica Sorensen told Joe. “Mark Devlin was making up lies, tarnishing Tim’s reputation. We have three children, and we can’t afford to lose Tim’s salary. I wanted to scare Mr. Devlin off, that’s all. I didn’t mean to really hurt him.”
Joe stared at the woman sitting in the chair across from him in the interrogation room. Erica looked like she was on something. Her eyes were dilated, and there was a nervous edge to her movements. She kept crossing and uncrossing her legs, twisting her fingers together, biting down on her bottom lip. She was terrified, and she had good reason to be. She hadn’t done a very good job covering up her crime. The left front bumper on her car was damaged with what appeared to be traces of clothing and blood evidence that he believed would link her car to Mark Devlin. Erica had taken her vehicle to a mechanic fifty miles away, but it hadn’t been far enough. The mechanic had alerted them immediately.