THE SINGLE MUM DIARIES First comes baby, then comes happily-ever-after

The Darling sisters, both single mums, have always supported each other through the ups and downs of life and love. But they’ll need each other’s advice more than ever when the possibility of true love comes knocking!

Playboy Connor McNair thinks life behind a picket fence isn’t his speed—until Jill Darling, the girl he secretly loves, traps him with kisses and Bundt cake. How can he turn away from the woman he’s always wanted and her twin baby boys?

A DADDY FOR HER SONS

Sara Darling’s joy at adopting her deceased half-sister’s baby turns into a bad dream when she realizes that the rough, handsome man she’s just met has come to claim that same child. Could a marriage of convenience with Sara be exactly the medicine that tortured Jake Martin needs?

Find out in

MARRIAGE FOR HER BABY

About the Author

RAYE MORGAN has been a nursery school teacher, a travel agent, a clerk and a business editor, but her best job ever has been writing romances—and fostering romance in her own family at the same time. Current score: two boys married, two more to go. Raye has published more than seventy romance novels and claims to have many more waiting in the wings. She lives in Southern California with her husband and whichever son happens to be staying at home at the moment.

Marriage for Her Baby
Raye Morgan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To Patience Bloom, aptly named and endowed with talents for perception, encouragement and support that go above and beyond every day!

CHAPTER ONE

SARA DARLING WAS collecting donations for the Children’s Sunshine Fund throughout her bayside neighborhood, and it wasn’t easy over the last weeks of summer when everyone was gone on vacation. The beach was unusually warm today and the stairs to each cottage seemed higher and higher as she moved down the beachfront area. To make that climb and then come up with no answer to her knock was demoralizing. The only people who opened the doors were vacation renters, and they weren’t interested in donating to a local fund.

“Collecting,” she muttered sarcastically as fat beads of sweat began a race down her spine. “Begging would be a better name for it.”

Somehow she let her sister Jill talk her into doing this every year, and every year, she swore it would be the last time. She walked past her own little house and smiled. She hadn’t been living in it for the last few weeks. Renovations were underway. She could hardly wait to go in and see it all changed. Just a few more days and work should be over. She could pack up her baby and move back home.

The last house on her schedule was the one next to hers. The neighbors were in Europe on their annual trek, but they did rent out to short-term vacationers. She looked at the red door and sighed, wishing she could head back to her baby right now. One last climb.

She made it and gave a short knock on the door. No response. Oh, well. She started to turn away, but a sound from inside turned her back again. What was that? A siren? An alarm? Or was the tenant playing some sort of weird music?

What the heck, it was none of her business. She started to turn away again, but the door suddenly swung open as though someone had yanked it from behind. Sara found herself staring into a pair of icy-blue eyes beneath dark, intimidating brows.

“Yes?” the man asked shortly, as though she was already late answering him.

Unaccountably she was flustered and for a moment, she couldn’t remember why she’d come. “I … uh …”

Maybe it was because he was so darn handsome. Or maybe it was because he was looking so fierce. Possibly also in the brew was the fact that his naked torso was muscular and manly and altogether breathtaking, and the way his jeans hung on his hips was enough to give a girl ideas. That might have been a contributing factor. But whatever the cause, her mind was completely blank.

“Hey, you’re a woman,” he announced gruffly, as though it was something of a revelation to him.

She tried to smile. “So I’ve been told,” she said, attempting light humor that crumbled and died before the words even left her lips.

His frown grew fiercer. “I need a woman. Maybe you can help me. Come on.” Reaching out, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the house, letting the door slam behind her.

“Wait a minute!”

“No time. All hell is breaking loose. Come on. Quickly.”

Truth be told, she was pretty sure she would have resisted with a bit more spunk if it hadn’t been for the oddly disturbing noises coming from the very room they were dashing toward. Curiosity was strong here, and it was rewarded. He threw open the double doors and ushered her into a little piece of madness.

The noise was overwhelming. Something was rotating and banging against the wall. Some form of food sizzled and spit on the stove, and thick waves of suds poured out of the dishwasher. A cat had climbed halfway up the inside of the screen door and was howling for escape. The refrigerator door stood open, creating an annoying electronic warning buzz. Meanwhile cans of soda were slowly rolling out and hitting the floor. Now and then, one burst open and shot carbonated beverage across the walls. A cloud of black smoke was emanating from the toaster and the smell of burning bread was in the air.

“You see what I mean?” the man shouted above the din. “Where do I start?”

Whatever was sizzling on the stove suddenly burst into tall orange flames, which shot toward the ceiling. She gaped. The gates of hell might have looked something like this.

Sara took it all in and suppressed the scream of horror that wanted to push its way up her throat. This was no time to panic. She had to be cool, calm, collected.

But she wasn’t perfect. “Oh, my goodness … what?” she cried, knowing there was going to be no answer until disaster had been headed off at the pass. “Are you crazy?”

He spread out his hands and shook his head. “Help,” he said.

She looked at him. He was actually waiting for her to tell him what to do. She gulped. He wasn’t the type. She knew that instinctively. But here he was, asking for assistance—from her. Help indeed!

She pushed back the panic and tried to think clearly. Wait. She knew all these items intimately. The situations, taken one at a time, were all things she’d dealt with before. Darn it all, she could handle this. Suddenly she realized it was true. She could take command. Why not? He was obviously clueless.

She grabbed his arm. “Okay,” she shouted in order to be heard above the din. “Turn off the dishwasher. I’ll take care of the fire.”

He turned to look at it. The flames appeared fiery, leaping higher every minute. “You will?” he said doubtfully.

She didn’t waste any more time. The lid to the frying pan was lying on the floor. She reached down to grab it, took a deep breath and plunged forward, firmly slamming it down on the pan, smothering the flames almost instantly. Quickly turning the knob for the gas, she doused its fuel. And then she took a deep breath of relief.

“Hey,” he said, looking impressed.

“The dishwasher,” she reminded him, jerking her head in that direction. They were going to be swimming in suds in no time if he didn’t stop the flow. She could just picture the two of them waltzing across the slippery floor and landing on their backsides.

“Right,” he said. He actually looked like he knew what he was doing so she headed for the washing machine at the far end of the kitchen. It was doing a spin cycle, but it was unbalanced and creating a terrible noise as it bounced around. Reaching out with a strange new confidence, she snapped off the juice. Like a crazed windup toy coming back to sanity, it began to wind down its banging cascade.

“How do I turn this thing off?” he was calling to her as he peered at the knobs and buttons on the dishwasher.

So she’d been wrong. He had no idea what he was doing. But wasn’t that obvious by now? She strode over and slapped the off switch as she passed, never missing a beat, on her way to the refrigerator. There, she caught the last two cans before they hit the floor, unended them, placed them on a shelf and closed the door.

The awful noise from the washing machine had stopped. The sizzle was dying down in the frying pan. The refrigerator alarm had faded away and the suds were slowing down.

She looked at the toaster. A black cloud still hovered over it, but nothing new was burning. At least he seemed to have unplugged it on his own, so that was taking care of itself by now.

However, the smoke alarm it had probably triggered was shouting a warning over and over. “Evacuate! Evacuate! There is smoke in the basement. Evacuate!”

She looked at him for an explanation and he shook his head. “There is no basement,” he told her. “The thing’s gone crazy.”

“How do you turn it off?” she asked him, knowing there had to be a way and knowing at the same time that he wasn’t going to know what that was.

“You got me.”

She hesitated. It was up so high, she couldn’t fan it with a towel like she usually did with hers. But something had to be done. It was getting louder and louder, as if it were angry they weren’t paying enough attention. She looked around the room and saw a broom. Grabbing it, she placed it in his hand.

“Kill it,” she said.

He almost laughed. “You’re kidding.”

She shook her head. She was feeling a little wild. “You’re taller. Swing at it with the brush end of the broom. That might do it. If not, do you have a gun?”

He did laugh this time, but he swung at it, forcing air into its core and finally, like a gift, it stopped yelling.

“Oh, my gosh,” she said, sagging against the counter. “What a relief.”

“Almost done,” he said, turning to look at the cat that was still clinging to the screen door and howling at the top of its lungs.

“Is he your cat?” she asked, looking at the poor terrified thing with its claws stuck.

He shook his head. “Never saw him before in my life. He must have been hiding in here when it all began.”

She nodded. She’d thought as much. She’d seen him around the neighborhood for ages.

“Okay. You’re going to have to help me. This is going to be a two-part play.”

He nodded, watching her. “Just tell me what to do.”

She glanced into his eyes, expecting a touch of ridicule. He was the sort of man she would have thought would be ready to put her back in her place by now. But, no. His eyes were clear and ready. He really was waiting for her to tell him what to do.

For some reason, that made her heart beat faster. She scanned the room. “We’ll need a towel,” she said.

He turned and grabbed one from a pile of dirty clothes in front of the washer. It looked as though he’d just emptied a duffel bag right there. He handed her the towel and she regarded the cat. The only way she’d ever managed to take her cat—when she had one—to the veterinarian was by wrapping him firmly so that no claws were exposed. But that was a cat who knew and loved her. This one was a stranger. She only hoped she didn’t end up a bloody mess when this was over and done.

“Okay. I’ll grab him. You whip open the door.”

“It opens to a back porch,” he warned her. “You want me to go all the way through that and open a door to the backyard?”

“Absolutely,” she said, nodding. “Okay, here goes.”

She drew in a deep, deep breath, muttered a little prayer and lunged for the cat. He saw her coming and yelled a threat, a deep, vibrant howl. If he’d been free to fly, he would have done it, but luckily his claws were stuck just enough so that he couldn’t move.

The next part was tricky. She had to get him wrapped really well and do it fast, but at the same time, she didn’t want to hurt him and his claws being stuck shifted from being an advantage to being a problem. She threw the towel around and hugged him, lifting slightly to loosen his claws. Somehow it worked out fine. Only a few claws continued to stick, and then only for a few seconds. As he came loose, she wrapped his paws quickly and clamped down tight. He howled and struggled but she gritted her teeth and held on, carrying him quickly out as the man opened the doors for her.

The cat was strong and he’d almost worked his way out of the towel by the time she hit the backyard and she didn’t get to put him down as gently as she would have liked. But she hardly saw him at all. In a flash, he was gone. She looked around and tried to catch her breath. Then she turned and saw the man staring at her in wonder.

“Wow,” he said. “You’re incredible.”

She stared back at him, surprised. He meant it. But she thought about it for a second. She sort of was, wasn’t she? She’d handled all this pretty well, if she did say so herself. Now that things had calmed down, she couldn’t believe that she’d been able to maintain that sort of control. She’d moved smoothly, with purpose and determination.

That really wasn’t much like her. Hey. She was pretty proud of herself.

As for him … well, what on earth was that all about, anyway? She shook her head.

“How could you get so many things wrong at one time?” she asked, still amazed at what they’d just experienced.

He gave her a crooked grin that didn’t seem to reach his eyes. “Pretty amazing, isn’t it? I don’t know. I just seem to have a talent for failure lately.”

“I doubt that.” She rejected his explanation out of hand. No, he had the look and feel of a man who did just about everything right. Only—today things had spun out of control for a bit. Interesting.

They were standing in the backyard and neither of them seemed to have any interest in going back into the kitchen. She shuddered when she thought of it.

“Seriously,” he said. “I’ve spent most of my time living in hotel rooms or tents over the last few years. I’ve lost the knack of civilization.”

She wanted to laugh but he wasn’t even smiling. “Surely you didn’t grow up in a cave,” she said.

“No.” He raised his bright blue eyes to meet hers. “It was more of a hut. And after my mother died, we didn’t live much like modern people do. My father caught game and fished and we lived off that. People called us the Wild Ones in my town. I resented it at the time, but looking back, I guess we deserved it.”

She couldn’t look away from his brilliant blue gaze. He had her mesmerized. She could see him living rough, like a twentieth century native. All he needed was a horse and a blanket and off he would go.

But the twentieth century was over and the modern world wasn’t very open to living like a wild one. Very deliberately, she took a step backward, as if she could somehow make a move out of his sphere of suggestive influence by putting more space between them. It didn’t work, and she found herself smoothing back her sleek blond hair like a woman primping for an encounter.

Ouch!

She wasn’t going to do that. She was so far from being in the market for a flirtation, she hardly remembered what that would be like. She finally pulled her gaze away and shook her head.

“You’ve got a lot of cleaning up to do in there,” she noted.

“Not me,” he said decisively.

She frowned at him. “You can’t just leave it. You’re going to have to clean it sometime.”

“Are you kidding?” His sudden grin was a revelation. “I’m not going back in there.”

She gasped. “But …”

“I’ll just go and rent a new place and start over, armed with all I’ve learned from you.”

It took a moment to realize he was kidding. She shook her head, not sure what to make of him.

He was tall and hard and strong with a body that could have been chiseled from Carrara marble. That’s what he reminded her of—the gang at the Parthenon. A Greek god for heaven’s sake—with a face to match. His features were crisp and even—handsome in a hard, rough way. His eyes with their long, dark lashes had a sleepy, languorous expression. Very appealing.

But was there any warmth there? If there was, she couldn’t find it. Was he as cold as marble, too? All in all, he was gorgeous, but he was also a little bit scary.

He watched her with one dark eyebrow raised.

“Tell you what, let’s go down to the corner café. I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”

That startled her. She’d sworn off men a long time ago. The aggravation wasn’t worth the reward. She had other things in her life, things she valued. Besides, he might be a short-term renter in the house next to hers, but that didn’t mean they were destined to be bosom buddies. Not at all. She took his offer as a cue to begin to back away.

“Oh, I don’t know, I’ve got to …”

“Come on.” He touched her. It was just a gesture, just a quick, passing touch. He probably didn’t even notice when his fingertips softly slipped along her arm. But she did. It gave her a start and her breath was suddenly catching in her throat.

“Come on. I owe you one. You just did me a very big favor.”

“Well …” She was weakening. A part of her stood aside and watched this with exasperation. What on earth was she doing? But she snuck a look at her watch and realized she actually had plenty of time. She knew her baby would still be napping at her sister’s house for another half hour, at least. So … why not?

She glanced at him sideways. “Just for a few minutes,” she conceded.

“Good,” he said, sticking his hand out. “I’m Jake Martin. And I would guess that your name is Jill.”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head, wondering how he’d come up with her sister’s name, then she realized she was wearing Jill’s uniform shirt for doing the Sunshine Fund collecting. “Jill” was embroidered in big red letters right over the pocket. She laughed. “No, actually …”

“Come on, Jill,” he said, taking her hand. “Let’s go.”

Her heart seemed to roll over inside her. She glanced at his muscular chest and knew she was turning bright red.

“You’re going to need a shirt, aren’t you?” she noted breathlessly.

“Oh.” He stopped short and looked down at his lack of attire. “Hey, sorry. I hadn’t realized I was being so informal. I’ll grab something out of my car.”

He turned to do just that and she gasped softly as she noticed the purple scarring on his back, a picture of past pain and agony she hadn’t noticed before in all the commotion. She turned away and pretended not to watch as he pulled a dark blue T-shirt over that beautiful body.

“Listen, I left my papers and my purse in your house. I’m going to have to go in to get them.”

He groaned. “Okay. But I don’t want to see it. I’ll meet you out front.”

She made her way quickly through the mess, glad it wasn’t going to be her job to clean it up, grabbed her things and came out the front door to meet him. He smiled and took hold of her hand again and they were marching toward the coffee shop.

“I really like it here,” he told her, looking out at the gray-blue ocean that surrounded the Washington State island just across from Seattle where they lived—for the moment at least.

She liked it, too. In fact she planned to spend a long, long time here. That was why she was renovating her house to make room for raising Savannah, her nine-month-old baby.

A group of seagulls flew overhead, screaming in their usual argument. She looked down toward the other end of town. The ferry was coming in, bringing commuters home from their jobs in Seattle. Yes, this was where she wanted to be.

“Too bad I can’t stay,” Jake said, looking like he really did regret it.

“Where are you going instead?” she asked, just to make conversation.

He hesitated. “I’m not sure,” he told her, staring right down into her eyes. “I haven’t had time to think it through. But it will be somewhere different.” His smile was crooked. “It always is.”

She could see that he was telling her the truth. But he was outside his comfort zone at the moment. She wondered why.

They went into the little café and took a booth, sitting across from each other. Coffee, he’d said, and she wasn’t hungry, but she picked up the menu and began to peruse it, just to give herself something to do besides stare at him.

“You said you’d been living in a tent lately,” she reminded him, peeking around the menu. “What was that all about?”

“I’ve been in the military,” he said shortly, looking away as though it was something he didn’t want to talk about.

“As if that wasn’t obvious,” she muttered, glancing back at the menu.

“Why?” he said.

She shrugged. “There’s a military look about you,” she said.

He frowned and she looked away again. So he didn’t like the fact that she could see his military influence. Too bad. It was only obvious and she could have said more.

She could have mentioned that he had a noticeable restlessness in him, a sort of masculine urge to gaze at the horizon and wonder what might be out there. It was the sort of thing that made most women sigh with regret. He wasn’t the sort to be tied down by anyone. It was written all over him. You fell for a man like this and you were playing with fire.

“Iced tea, please,” she asked as the waitress stood poised, pad of paper in hand.

“Coffee for me,” he said. “Black. And two pieces of cherry pie. Á la mode.”

She looked at him and held back her smile. “You must be really hungry,” she said.

“No. But I can see that you are,” he shot back. Then he grinned and that took all the sting out of it. “You’ll love the pie here,” he said. “Trust me.”

Trust him. That was just what she was having a bit of problem doing. And where did he get off telling her what the pie was like in her own little café? That did it. She’d known she should have rejected his offer from the first. The man was obviously insufferable.

But he was also right. The pie was great. She looked around the restaurant, surprised she didn’t see anyone she knew. Only the girl behind the counter seemed familiar at all. But she usually stopped by for a large cup of coffee in the morning, and the crew in the afternoon were mostly different. It was odd to be in a place that was so familiar, and yet feel like a stranger.

Odd, but not unusual for her. She hadn’t made many friends since she’d moved to the island, and the ones she did know didn’t really know much about her. She kept things to herself.

And there was a secret about her that not even most of the people closest to her knew. She’d never been in love.

She’d been in pretty heavy-duty “like” a time or two. She’d known some very nice men and she’d had relationships. She’d even been engaged once. But somehow she’d always felt a little bit apart, as though she were an observer of her own talent at romance—and marking herself down critically every time.

Her engagement had been a high point. She’d really liked Freddy. He was fun and good-natured and liked to do many of the things she liked. His family was so nice. She could just see the trajectory of the life they would have together and it followed exactly what she would have expected for herself. It all fit. Why not? Why not go ahead and marry him and hope that it would all work out?

She became obsessed with pretending that she was in love. She tried so hard. But when he hugged her, she found herself craning to see what time it was. When he told her of his life plans, she found herself daydreaming instead of throwing herself into his ambitions the way she should have. And when he kissed her, there was no sparkle.

She told herself not to be so childish. Who the heck needed sparkle? And then she realized—she did. Just a little. Was that asking too much?

When they split up, she felt nothing but relief, and since then, she’d hardly given their relationship another thought. Looking back, she knew now that there had been very little love involved on either of their parts. There had been a longing for a regular, ordinary life, but it had very little to do with any strong emotional tie between them.

She just didn’t seem to have what it took to create a loving relationship, and she’d resigned herself to concentrating on her career. Now there was something she was good at.

She had finished half her piece of pie and was trying to decide if she was going to eat the rest. It was awfully good, but the calories! She’d always been on the slender side, but that fit figure wasn’t easy to keep that way. Pushing the plate away, she looked up at Jake instead.

“So you were telling me about living in a tent,” she reminded him.

“Was I?”

“Yes. And then you got annoyed when I said I could tell you were military.” She smiled. She was nothing if not helpful.

He gave her a disbelieving glance, but he willingly picked up the thread and went on. “I’ve been deployed mostly to Southeast Asia for the last couple of years,” he filled in. “We did a lot of living off the land. Subsisting on roadkill and taro root.”

She made a face. She didn’t know whether to take him seriously or not, but the humorous glint in his eyes was a pretty big hint. “Don’t they give you guys C rations anymore?” she asked tartly.

He leaned back and looked at her through heavy lidded eyes. “Now that would be giving away the military connection from the get-go, don’t you think?” he drawled.

She narrowed her eyes, refusing to let him intimidate her. “So you were working undercover, were you?” she said, pleased with herself for making the connection.

But his eyes turned a stormy-gray. “Not lately,” he said shortly. “I was doing some time in a terrorist prison camp—as a detainee. And believe me, we were happy to get taro root. It was the fat, squishy insects that made you gag.”

She gazed at him, not sure if he was still pulling the wool over her eyes or not. He seemed awfully serious. She decided to play along, regardless. “So that was why you said you had forgotten how to live like a civilized person?”

He nodded. “I felt I needed to get back in the groove. So I decided to try out all the modern conveniences I hadn’t ever used before, all at once.” His quick grin was self-deprecating and it left as suddenly as it had appeared. “Like I thought I could get the learning curve over with faster that way. As you can see, it didn’t work very well.”

“Okay,” she told him sensibly. “So start over, only this time do one thing a day until you’ve mastered it.”

He was shaking his head. “No time,” he said. “I’ve got to learn fast. I’m going to need it all very soon.”

She smiled. “Because you rented a nice little house with appliances?”

He didn’t smile back. “No. Something more important than that.”

She waited for a moment, but he didn’t elaborate. She couldn’t imagine what it might be, but she was curious. In fact, she was becoming more and more interested in this gorgeous, compelling man. There was no use trying to pretend. For the first time in years, she’d met a man who not only made her pulse dance, but made her think warm thoughts of all kinds.

Ordinarily that would make her back away and find an excuse to be somewhere else. But she couldn’t do that with Jake Martin. She was starting to wish she could think of a reason to ask him over for dinner.

Wait. She had the perfect reason.

His house had practically exploded that afternoon. He couldn’t go back there until something was done about the mess. So she wouldn’t feel hesitant about asking him over—even if it was to her sister’s house. She smiled again and waited for a chance to get an invitation in.

But meanwhile, there was the question of that important thing that made him want to learn how to run a house.

“Am I supposed to guess what it is?” she asked.

She was almost flirting now. Maybe she ought to hold that back for the time being. She’d forgotten how much fun it could be—that little surge of electricity as your eyes met his—that little bobble of excitement in your chest. Flirting. She was going to have to work on it a bit, but it could be an asset. She bit her lower lip and waited for an answer.

“No, of course not,” he said, his blue eyes sparkling. “Sorry to be so secretive, but there are reasons.”

“Go ahead,” she said recklessly. “You can tell me anything.”

He hesitated, looking at her as though trying to decide if he could trust her.

She smiled, trying to look trustworthy.

He shrugged. “Okay, I’ll tell you why.” He leaned forward so that he could speak more confidentially. “I’m about to become a father. And I’ve got to learn how to take care of my little girl as quickly as I can.”

CHAPTER TWO

SARA GAZED AT Jake, amazed. A little girl—just like Savannah. Funny how similar their stories seemed to be. Maybe he was adopting his little girl, the same way she was adopting hers. Or maybe—she glanced at his hand, looking for a ring and he noted her interest with a crooked grin.

“No, I’m not married,” he said. “But I do have a little girl and in a few days, she’ll be with me. I’ve got to be ready to take care of her. I’ve got to learn all this stuff.”

“Of course you do.”

She smiled at him. Finally there was a flicker of warmth in his eyes and it had to be because he was talking about his baby. She knew the feeling. She’d considered herself a career woman for years until Savannah had come into her life. And now her entire reality was totally focused on that child.

She leaned forward, wanting to know all about it but not wanting to seem too nosy. She thought of her own nine-month-old baby, and her smile widened. He was in for such joy if his experience was even half as rewarding as hers had been.

Savannah had been the child of her younger half sister. After Kelly died in a car accident, Sara had volunteered to take her. She’d been reluctant at first. She and her sister Jill hadn’t had any contact with Kelly for a long time and knew nothing about her baby. Besides, Sara was about to make a major step forward in her career, a job that would take all her time.

But in the end, the baby came first.

Now she couldn’t even remember that struggle to decide very clearly. Her very existence revolved around this baby she’d only had for less than six months. She couldn’t imagine life without her. In just a few minutes she would get a chance to tell Jake all about her. The anticipation made her smile.

“I’ve always been a quick study in my line of work,” Jake said. “And since I didn’t know anything, I decided the best thing to do would be to just start teaching myself how to cook and to clean and all the rest. Just go ahead and jump in with both feet. So today was the day.” He threw his head back and groaned. “Disaster.”

She had to admit that was pretty accurate. “Think of it as a learning experience,” she told him. “I think you need more planning ahead of time. And maybe lessons would help.”

“Lessons.” He nodded, thinking that over. “Maybe you could teach me a few more tricks?” He looked at her, his face endearingly pathetic.

“Why not?”

That was her first, exuberant reaction, but it only took seconds to make her wonder what the heck she thought she was getting into. Her interior watchdog was yelling, “No, no, no, no!” That was exactly what she’d programmed it to do if she was ever in danger of falling for a man again. But she was very tempted to ignore it. Maybe her luck had changed. How would she ever know if she didn’t try?

“So tell me about your little girl,” she said, wondering if it would be a good time to ask him what his dinner plans were. Maybe not. Better wait another ten minutes or so. “How old is she? When did you see her last?”

He frowned. “I think she’s about nine months old,” he said. “I think that’s what they told me.”

Nine months. That was the same as Savannah. “You’re adopting her?” Sara asked.

But he shook his head. “No. She’s mine. I just didn’t know about her until I got released from the camp and sent home to the States.”

Somewhere deep inside, very near her heart, a new warning was beginning to send a small, nervous signal to her brain. She touched her breastbone with her fingers, gently pushing as though she could push the feeling back. But it just got stronger. Something wasn’t quite right here.

But that was silly. She had no real reason to think that at all. He was telling her the facts as he knew them—why would that be threatening? She was being ridiculous. Probably because she wasn’t used to talking to men like this.

“What’s your baby’s name?”

He shook his head. “Funny thing is, they never told me that. I guess I’ll be able to name her whatever I want.”

“So you’ve never seen her?”

“No.” His smile was brilliant. “But I’ve seen pictures, and she’s a beauty—a little blonde with dark eyes and the biggest smile I’ve ever seen.”

Sara was feeling sick. She wasn’t sure why. But something was beginning to feel very wrong. Why did everything he said seem to have such a close resemblance to her Savannah?

Stop it, she told herself. That’s crazy. What he is describing is the picture of almost any little nine-month-old girl. Don’t let your imagination carry you away. Just stop it!

“What happened to her mother?” she asked, surprised to hear how raspy her voice sounded.

He shook his head. “She’s out of the picture,” was all he said.

What did that mean? That she didn’t want the child? That she didn’t want a relationship with Jake? That she was an unfit mother and he had to take over? It could mean a thousand things. It could also mean—no, she didn’t want to go there.

“So they’ve told you that your baby is all yours?” she asked, feeling breathless. “Are you taking possession of her here? Or …?”

He grimaced. “Actually I’m not supposed to be here yet. I found out where she’s staying and I came to get as close to her as I could. I want to be ready to go, as soon as the paperwork is all taken care of. We’ve just got to tie up a few loose ends, and I’ll be taking custody of her.”

As close to her as he could. Yeah, next door was pretty close. Pure, cold, electric panic was beginning to shiver through her system. It couldn’t be. Could it?

“You said the mother is out of the picture,” she repeated. Her voice sounded so strange and her mouth was so dry. “Permanently?”

He looked at her curiously, as though wondering why she cared. “Yes. She died in a car accident.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.” Her words came automatically, but her hand rose and covered her mouth. Inside, she was screaming.

“Me, too.” He shrugged. “But I really didn’t know her very well. And now I’ve found she left me this wonderful gift.” He shook his head. “Life is crazy, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

She had to go. She had to get out of here. Maybe she was taking this completely wrong, but there were too many things that seemed to lead right to her situation—to her baby. It couldn’t be. Oh, please, don’t let it be …

She began to gather her clipboard and purse, preparing to make her escape.

“You know the neighborhood pretty well, don’t you?” he was asking.

What? She blinked at him. It was almost as though he was speaking a foreign language. But she took a deep breath and forced herself to settle down and translate to her frightened mind.

“I … I’ve lived here for three years, but I traveled a lot on business. So, no, I guess I can’t claim to know the neighborhood really well. Why?”

“I was just wondering if you knew a woman named Sara Darling.”

There it was—as though a huge gong of doom had been rung in her head. It was still ringing, echoing back and forth, deafening her. This was it. Everything she’d been dreading was coming down on her and she had to go. She began to tremble uncontrollably. She looked around, ready to run.

But at the same time, she couldn’t give it all away. She couldn’t let him know. She needed time to get away. So she tried to smile.

“Sara Darling?” Sara could hardly get the name out of her dry mouth. “I, uh, well, no, I …”

Ordinarily she would be laughing and explaining how he’d had her name wrong from the beginning, and that she was Sara Darling herself. But that didn’t happen. She couldn’t let him know who she really was. The shock of his question had pierced her heart and it was going to take some time to right herself again.

“She’s supposed to be living next door to the house I rented,” he went on, “but I’ve been there for two days and I haven’t seen a sign of her.”

“Oh.” Calm down, Sara, she was telling herself. You’ve got to make it through this. Calm down.

She had to go. She had to get out of here. Her heart was pounding so hard, she was sure he had to hear it.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” she said quickly as she slid out of the booth. “I just remembered something I have to do. Thanks so much for the pie. I’ll … I’ll see you around.”

She didn’t stop to see how he took her sudden departure. She just went, walking quickly through the tiny café, then breaking into a run as she hit the street.

By the time Sara reached her sister’s house at the top of the hill overlooking the ferry landing, she thought her lungs would burst.

“Sara, what is it?” Jill called, seeing her entrance from the kitchen where she was baking. “What on earth is the matter?”

She rushed out to greet her and Sara clung to her, trying to catch her breath.

“Where’s Savannah?” she choked out as soon as she could speak.

“In her bed. She’s still taking her nap.” Jill frowned. “Honey, she’s okay. What’s wrong?” “Nothing. I just … nothing.”

Jill shrugged, searching her face. “Well, go ahead and check on her, but I just was up there getting the twins ready to go outside and play and she was snoozing away.”

Sara nodded and started for the stairs.

“Oh, you had a couple of phone calls,” Jill called after her. “One was from the Children’s Home Agency. They wanted you to call back right away.”

Sara turned to look at her. “Did you write down the number?”

“Of course. It’s right by the phone.” Jill frowned. “Sara, you don’t look good. What’s the matter?”

Sara held up her hand. “I’ll tell you later. Right now, I’ve got to call the agency.”

“Sure.” Jill nodded, though she still looked concerned. “I’ll be in the kitchen. I’ve got an order of Bundt cakes that need to go out by six.”

Sara waved her off, turned to the phone and found the paper with the number on it. She dialed it quickly and got through to a real live agent almost immediately.

“We’ve been trying to get hold of you for the last few days,” an agent named Linda told her. “You really must keep in better contact. If you’re going to be away, you must let us know.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll take care of it next time.” Sara tried to stop her heart from racing so wildly. “Is there … is there something wrong?”

There was a pause and it nearly killed her. She put her hand over her heart and waited, trying to keep her breathing even.

“Well, I’m afraid something has happened,” the woman said at last. “You’ve been doing so well with your quest to adopt little Savannah.”

“My … my sister’s child,” Sara said, as though that was going to help her win.

“Yes, of course. But you see, there is a problem. Her, uh, her biological father seems to have turned up.”

Sara closed her eyes and fought back the urge to vomit. The very thing she’d been afraid of from the beginning now filled her with a terrible dread.

“Are you sure?” she said, her voice raspy, her throat tight. “How can we know he’s telling the truth?”

“DNA tests are being performed. We’ll know the facts soon enough.”

Soon enough. Soon enough. What was the woman talking about?

“But … I’ve done everything. I’ve met all the standards. I’m in the process of adopting her right now… .”

“You do know that a DNA match will be determinative, don’t you? If he can prove that he is her father, well, there’s not much we can do.”

Sara couldn’t speak. She rocked back and forth, holding tightly. Tears were streaming down her face.

“Now don’t you give up hope, my dear,” the woman was saying. “The DNA might not match. And even if it does, he might decide he is unprepared to take on such a huge responsibility as raising a child on his own. But we do have to come to a conclusion, one way or another, before we can move forward.”

“What’s his name?” she asked, barely holding herself together.

“His name? Oh. Well, I guess I can tell you that. Jake Martin. He’s been away in the military and didn’t know that Savannah had been born. Or so he says.”

She nodded. She wanted to say more, but she would begin to cry in earnest if she tried.

“I do have to warn you,” the voice said, sounding tentative now. “Something happened the last time he was in here. You see, it seems he may have taken a file folder that included your address. It would be completely against regulations to give him your address, of course. But as the file has been missing since his visit … well … I thought you ought to be warned. He might try to contact you.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “He might.” The woman was still talking, but Sara hung up the phone.

She had things to do. She was going to take her baby and run for shelter.

“Be calm,” she repeated to herself over and over, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. “Remember how you were this afternoon in the crazy kitchen. You can do this. You can make it happen. But you have to stay calm.”

They could do it. They would go to a new place and they would hide until the coast was clear, and then … She didn’t know what would happen then. But there was no way she was giving up her baby to that … man.

She dashed upstairs and pulled out two travel bags. Working fast, she began to throw clothes into one, baby supplies into the other. They were going to run.

She looked into the crib where Savannah was sleeping. Her beautiful, beautiful baby. For just a moment she filled her heart with the look of her, her round baby cheeks, her perfect eyebrows, her adorable wisp of blond hair. Everything in her ached for this child. To hand her over? To never see her sweet face again? No! She could not, would not—give her up.

And then Jill was in the doorway.

“Sara! What are you doing?”

Sara shook her head and refused to meet her sister’s gaze. “Sorry, Jill. We’ve got to get out of here.” She threw some little romper suits into the bag.

Jill grabbed her by the shoulders. “Why? Tell me what’s going on.”

Sara blinked back tears. “No time.”

“Sara!”

“Okay, okay.” She took a deep breath. “There’s this man who is renting the Lancaster place next to me. His name is Jake Martin. He claims he’s Savannah’s father.”

Jill gasped. “Oh, Sara! No.”

“Yes. And he wants her.” She set her jaw. “But I won’t let him take her. I’m going to go.”

“But, Sara, where?”

“Away. As far as we can go. Jill, you do see that I have to do this?”

But Jill was shaking her head. “No,” she said softly. “Oh, Sara, no. You can’t run. What good will it do? They’ll find you. You won’t get away. It’s too dangerous. Stay here. We’ll see what we can do. Maybe Connor will know someone …”

“Jill, he’s here. He’s looking for her right now. I have to go.”

“No!”

“Jill, listen to me. You’re the one who talked me into taking this baby. I didn’t want to do it. But I saw the light and I did my duty to our sister Kelly. I took her baby. I put all my heart and soul into loving her, caring for her, making her feel cherished and safe. And now you want me to just give her up to some crazy man who doesn’t have the slightest idea on how to take care of a child? No. I won’t do it. I’m going.”

“Wait until Connor gets home,” Jill insisted. Pulling out her cell phone, she punched in her husband’s number. “Wait. He’ll have an idea. I know he will. We can all work on this together.”

Sara didn’t waste any more time talking. She pulled Savannah into her arms and headed for the changing table. Quickly she changed the diaper as her baby began to wake up and look around, cooing happily as she always did when she saw her mother’s face. Sara pulled on a little playsuit and wrapped her in a blanket, then grabbed the suitcases and headed to the door.

She could hear her sister talking to Connor, giving him the facts and urging him to get home fast. But she couldn’t wait for that. As she rushed out the door, her main fear was that Jake would already be coming up the hill to Jill’s house. She looked quickly, but there was no sign of him, and relief surged in her heart. If she could get to the ferry before he found her, they just might make it. She strapped her baby into the car seat and off they went.

A good twenty minutes of high anxiety passed before sanity began to creep back into Sara’s thinking. She was on the ferry by then, parked behind six cars and in front of two others and gliding across the water. The wait to board had seemed to go on forever. She’d sat behind the wheel, scanning the landscape, staring into her rearview mirror, jumping every time a new man appeared anywhere near.

But he didn’t show up. They opened the gates and let her onto the ferry, and still she didn’t see him anywhere. They started off across the bay and as time passed, she began to breathe again. Seattle lay off in the distance. Her thoughts had centered around losing themselves in the big city. As she calmed down, she began to realize how senseless that was.

Savannah was fussing a bit and she turned to reach out for her little hand. She hadn’t thought to bring some snacks for her but she did have some fresh bottles. Once they got to the other side, she would pull over in a park she knew of and take care of that.

Looking at her adorable child, it came to her in a flash. This was crazy. It was a fantasy—a huge leap out into the great unknown without a safety net. In the modern world there were very few places where you could hide—especially if you were taking a baby with you. You had to have a way to make a living. You had to have someone to watch the baby while you did that. You had to have a place to live in. And all those things required identification. They would be found in no time.

It wouldn’t work. She was endangering the welfare of her baby in order to keep control—and losing all control by doing it. This was nuts. Jill had been right. She was going to have to go back.

Her heart sank. She knew it was a sort of defeat. But at the same time, it was only recognizing reality. A thousand things could go wrong, and most of them might hurt Savannah. What had she been thinking? She couldn’t risk it.

A sense of doom swept over her, catching in her throat, but she fought it back. There were other ways to fight this. It might take a bit of finesse, a talent for persuasion and a touch for manipulation. But she’d been there before.

Jake Martin wasn’t domesticated. He was a wild man. He lived unconventionally. There was nothing in his background or experience that had prepared him to take care of a baby. Surely the powers in the agency would see that. Surely that would go into their decision-making. Or was biology all that mattered?

There was one counselor who had been very helpful to her before, a Mrs. Truesdale. She’d taken a special interest in getting Savannah settled with Sara and had said to call her if there were any problems. That was the one she should have talked to. Maybe she could help.

Her baby’s fussing got more insistent.

“Okay, honey,” she told her, clicking open her seat belt and opening the car door. “I’m afraid we’re going to be turning around and going right back home again. But for now, let’s go look at the water. You need some good old ocean wind in your face.”

She bundled her baby in the blanket and carried her out onto the deck. A few other passengers were scattered along the railing, watching the icy blue-green water wash by. Lifting her face to the sun, she took a deep breath of fresh air. She was glad they were turning back. She needed to be with her sister. Together, they would think of something. She was sure of it.

She felt the large, hard hand take hold of her upper arm and she didn’t have to look to see who it was. But she did anyway, whipping her head around and gasping. Jake seemed taller, his shoulders seemed even wider, his face harder. His hand had clamped down on her flesh like a vise and she knew there was no way she could get away from him.

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