“Okay.” She sat tensely as he backed out of the slot, then drove across town. The sheriff’s department headquarters was on the outskirts of Stimson, the county seat that still had a population of only thirty-five thousand or so. The Lawsons had never moved from the house they’d lived in when their daughter was snatched. He’d read and knew from experience that was usual. People believed they had to be there when their missing family member magically made his or her way home. There was probably a subconscious fear that, if they weren’t there, everything as much the same as possible, the lost one wouldn’t be able to find them.
He stole glances at Bailey Smith, sitting marble still and almost as pale, staring straight ahead through the windshield. Scared to death and refusing to show it, he diagnosed. She didn’t like giving away what she felt.
And him, he kept watching for every tiny giveaway. His heart had taken up an unnaturally fast rhythm from the minute she turned around and their eyes met. He’d felt as if he’d taken a blow to the chest. Attraction multiplied times a thousand, an unfamiliar hunger to know everything about her, to soothe her fears and heal her wounds, a breathtaking need to protect her—and pounding at him the whole time was terror that she’d walk away before... What?
I can find out whether she might feel the same. Even close to the same.
“Here we are,” he said quietly, pulling to a stop in front of a nice two-story white Colonial-style house with dark green shutters. He was willing to bet the Lawsons had never even considered changing so much as the shade of green on the trim when they repainted. Kirk Lawson’s pickup was in the driveway. Lawson’s Auto Body, it said on the door. So Karen had called him to come home, as Seth had suggested.
Bailey’s head had turned and she stared now at the house where she’d grown up. Her breathing had quickened. She might swear she didn’t remember the house at all, but he wondered.
Seth turned off the engine but sat there, ready to give her all the time she needed. A minute passed. Two. Mercifully, the front door didn’t open and he didn’t see anyone at the front window. Probably they hadn’t heard the car out in front.
“You okay?” he asked at last.
“I...yes.” She drew in a deep breath she probably meant to be steadying. “Yes,” she said again, sounding a little more sure.
“Ready?”
Bailey nodded and reached for the door handle.
He met her on the sidewalk and stayed close on the way to the front door. After ringing the bell, he laid a hand on her back. He’d have sworn she leaned into it, just the slightest bit.
After the deep gong, he heard nothing until the door swung open. It was Kirk who looked through the screen door at him before switching his gaze to Bailey. Utter shock transformed his rugged face. “Dear God in heaven,” he choked out.
“May we come in?” Seth asked.
He pushed open the screen, his gaze devouring Bailey. “Hope?” Then he gave his head a shake. “Come in. Karen!” he bellowed.
They stepped into the living room. His wife appeared from the direction of the kitchen. She was braced for bad news, Seth saw, in the instant before she set eyes on her daughter, resurrected, and came to a stop.
And yes, everything he’d hoped to see blazed forth on her face, making him realize that most lines on it had been formed by grief.
“Hope?” she said tremulously. She took a few steps forward then stopped as if disbelieving. Tears brimmed in her eyes and overflowed. “It is you. It is. Oh, Kirk! Hope is home.”
Seth laid a seemingly casual hand on Bailey’s shoulder. Despite his focus on the two Lawsons, he was attuned to her, not them. Aware of her shock as she saw her mother’s face, so much like her own. Felt when the waves of emotion hit her, as she absorbed the yearning in these strangers’ eyes.
Seth cleared his throat. “I do believe this is Hope. That’s why I brought her to meet you. We will need DNA confirmation. You know that.”
Predictably, Karen shook her head, not looking away from her daughter. “Of course this is Hope.” A smile burst forth despite the tears, and she hurried forward, holding out her hands. “Oh, my dear. Thank God. You don’t know what this means to us.”
Bailey shrank toward Seth. “I...it’s a pleasure to meet you.” She turned her head. “Both of you.”
Karen stopped short of flinging her arms around the alarmed young woman. “Meet us? You don’t remember us?”
“I’m afraid not. I...it’s astonishing how much I look like you.” She sounded stunned. “I... I’ve blocked so much out. I suppose I couldn’t let myself remember.”
“That’s why you never came home. Because you didn’t know where we were.”
Seth squeezed Bailey’s shoulder in reassurance. “Why don’t we sit down?”
“Yes. Oh, yes!” Karen gestured them toward the sofa. “Oh, my dear. This has to be the best day of my life, except possibly when you were born.”
Seth understood the sentiment, but was damn glad Eve wasn’t here to hear it expressed.
Bailey cast him a single, desperate glance as they sat, side by side. He smiled at her, hoping to convey without words that she was doing great.
Hoping. He’d never be able to use any variant of that word again without seeing her in his mind’s eye.
Karen tore her gaze from Bailey long enough to beam at him. “You brought her home. You accomplished a miracle.”
He had. He still felt shell-shocked. He’d found Hope. Or, at least, cast the right lure to draw her home.
Uneasiness stirred, because he knew she didn’t think of this house or this town as home. He hadn’t asked yet where she lived, what her life was like, thinking they had more than enough to deal with. She didn’t wear a ring, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t involved with a man. She could have kids. Who knew?
If she had a guy in her life, where the hell was he? Seth thought savagely. No man who loved her would have let her do this alone.
“Will you...will you tell us about yourself?” Karen said timidly, seemingly still not realizing her face was wet with tears even as it glowed with joy.
Kirk sat heavily in an armchair. Seth had the impression he hadn’t once taken his eyes off Bailey. Both waited expectantly for her answer.
“Well... I live in Southern California. My name...” She floundered at their expressions, but squared her shoulders. “It’s Bailey Smith.” She hurried on, as if to be sure they didn’t have a chance to comment. “I’ve held all kinds of jobs since I graduated from high school, but I’m currently waitressing because I can do it nights and weekends. I’m about to start my senior year of college. A little late, but I finally got there.” Her lips had a wry twist. “Majoring in psychology. I don’t know what I want to do with it, but getting a degree feels...important.” She lifted her chin a little higher. “I wanted to make something of myself.”
“That’s wonderful.” Karen beamed some more. “What school are you in?”
Seth’s hand had been on his thigh, but he moved it to the sofa cushion where his knuckles just touched Bailey’s thigh. He waited for her to inch away, but she didn’t.
“USC,” she said. “Um, the University of Southern California.” She smiled weakly. “Go Trojans. Although I’m not really into sports.”
“Your father watches football and baseball—”
They all heard the front door open.
“Mom? Dad, why are you home?” Eve entered the living room, worry on her face. “There’s a police car here.” She stopped dead, her gaze moving from her father