Faith, Hope and Love
Beverly Barton

TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY • HAMBURG STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN • MADRID PRAGUE • WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Prologue

“I think that rain is going to change over to snow,” Jody Crenson said as she gazed out the double windows in the living room of Faith Sheridan’s duplex apartment. “You’d better not only take an umbrella, but wear a hat and gloves, too.”

“I’m way ahead of you. I have my hat and gloves ready.” Faith emerged from her bedroom carrying a brown knit hat and matching brown gloves. She laid both on top of her ankle-length camel tan wool coat hanging over the back of the sofa beside the closed umbrella. “I’ll have to leave soon.” She checked her watch again—for the tenth time in ten minutes. “We’re supposed to meet at eight o’clock and it’s nearly seven-thirty.”

“The town square is only a ten-minute walk from here. You wouldn’t be just a little overeager would you?” As she turned from the windows, Jody grinned. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you? I’ll disappear the minute he shows up.”

“I’ll bring Worth back here and call you to come over and meet him. I promise. But once you meet him, I want you to make yourself scarce and go back to your apartment next door. Worth and I will have a lot of plans to make for our future.”

Jody forced a smile as she sauntered over to Faith and grasped her hands. “Sweetie, nobody wants this to work out for you more than I do. But don’t get your hopes up. I know what I’m talking about. I’ve had guys sweet-talk me into the sack, then forget my telephone number.”

“Worth didn’t sweet-talk me. He’s not like that.” A sudden blush burned Faith’s cheeks. “I actually asked him to…well, you know.”

Jody shook her head. “Ah, Faithie, I really hope the guy shows, but if he doesn’t—”

“He’ll be there,” Faith said, with utter conviction. “I know he loves me. And I’m sure by now he’s figured out for himself just how much he loves me. We were meant to be together.”

“You’re terribly in love with him, aren’t you?” Jody sighed. “When you first told me about him—about the way you two met when he rescued you from those terrorist kidnappers over there in Subria—I thought you just had a major hero-worship crush on him. But it’s more than that for you.”

“For him, too.” Faith swung Jody’s hands back and forth, then released her and twirled around several times. “How do I look?”

“Lovely. I’ve never seen you looking prettier. You’re absolutely glowing.”

“That’s because I’m in love and I’m happy and I’m—” Faith smiled broadly as she hugged herself. “Just think, less than two months ago I was a kidnap victim who could have been killed and now I’m home and safe and have a wonderful life ahead of me.”

“If you and Worth decide not to come back here, you call me. Otherwise, I’ll worry about you.”

Faith picked up her hat and pulled it down over her long brown hair, the two almost identical in color, then she eased on her gloves and put on her coat. “If for any reason we don’t come back here to my apartment, I’ll let you know. But don’t worry about me if I don’t call until late. Worth may have made his own plans for us.”

“If you aren’t back by midnight and haven’t called me, I’ll send out the Highway Patrol.”

Faith grabbed the umbrella and headed for the door. She glanced over her shoulder. “You’re going to be my maid of honor, so you’d better start thinking about a fancy dress. Maybe something in velvet.”

“Velvet will be kind of warm for a June wedding.”

“We won’t be waiting until June.” Faith opened the door. “I’m sure when I tell Worth my news, he’ll want us to get married right away.”

“Your news?” Jody’s eyes widened in a speculative stare. “What haven’t you told me? And why haven’t you told me?”

“Because I just took the test today.”

“The test?”

“I’ve got to go. I want to be early, just in case Worth is.”

Jody followed Faith out the door and onto the front porch that ran the length of the old house, which had been built in the thirties and later divided into two apartments.

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” Jody grabbed Faith’s shoulder just as Faith opened the big tan umbrella.

Faith jerked away, went down the steps and out onto the sidewalk, then began skipping and humming “Singing In the Rain.”

“Don’t you dare leave here without telling me,” Jody called after her.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Faith sang out loud and clear. “I’m going to have Worth’s baby and we’re going to get married and live happily ever after.”

Faith skipped away, the cold evening rain drizzling down all around her as she made her way up Somerset Avenue. She’d never been this happy in her entire life. Very soon she would have what she wanted most—a family of her own. She and Worth and their baby would be that family.

If anyone understood the way she felt, Jody did. They’d met when they were kids, both residents of the Whitewood Girls’ Ranch for orphans outside of town. Faith had very little memory of her mother, who’d died in a car crash when Faith was three, but she had lots of wonderful memories of her father. Alfred Sheridan had been a college professor. A shy, quiet man who’d been a gentle, loving parent. But her dad had been nearly fifty when she was born and suffered with heart problems that took his life when Faith was twelve. Without any close relatives, Faith had become an unwanted orphan. She wasn’t particularly pretty and she’d always been shy. And not many people wanted to adopt a twelve-year-old.

Decked in holiday finery, with festive lights twined around roof lines, shrubbery and fences, the homes near downtown Whitewood proclaimed the season. When she passed the Dawsons’ house, Horace barked at her from his dry perch on a footstool in front of the white wooden rockers on the front porch. Horace was a spoiled rotten, fourteen-year-old beagle. Lindsey Dawson opened the front door, lifted Horace off the stool, then threw up her hand to wave at Faith.

“Horace won’t go out in the yard to do his business when it’s raining like this.” Lindsey shrugged. “What on earth are you doing out on a night like this? Don’t you know it’s suppose to start snowing any time now?”

Faith was in the church choir with Lindsey and they had become very friendly acquaintances since Faith’s return to Whitewood a month ago. The Dawsons, Lindsey and George, were in their midfifties with three adult children who were spread out across the country; and none of them had given the couple grandchildren, much to Lindsey’s consternation.

“I’m meeting Worth in the town square tonight,” Faith said.

“Oh, dear me, I’d forgotten that your young man was coming to Whitewood on Christmas Eve. Such a romantic rendevous for the two of you.”

Faith beamed with her happiness, feeling it through and through, as if this joyous feeling had taken over her body from the inside out. She wanted to shout from the rooftops that she was in love.

Within five minutes, she had made her way to Main Street. Last minute shoppers were scurrying about, rushing in and out of stores as they purchased Christmas presents. Whitewood, South Carolina—population 6,587—had seen its downtown area almost die out when a lot of businesses moved out near the four-lane highway back in the seventies. But in the late eighties, the townspeople had banded together to revitalize the buildings and the square between Main and Cherry Streets.

“Hey there, Faith.” Margaret Tompkins stood in the doorway of her coffee and gift shop. “Off to meet Worth in the square?”

Faith stopped under the green awning over the doorway of Margaret’s Goodies. “I thought you were closing up at seven tonight so you and Mr. Tippins could make it over to the Godfreys for their party.”

“I had so many last-minute customers that I had to call Mr. Tippins to tell him I’d meet him there.” Margaret frowned. “That Moselle Hutton had better not try to make time with my Mr. Tippins. The woman is nothing but a hussy.”

“Well, if that’s the case, you’d better hurry and lock up and get over to the Godfreys.”

“You’re absolutely right about that.” Margaret’s remarkably smooth face wrinkled slightly when she smiled. “Do bring Worth by to see me just as soon as you can.”

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll do just that.”

Faith adored Margaret Tompkins, who’d given Faith her first after-school job when she’d been sixteen. And thanks to Margaret’s kindness of keeping her employed at Margaret’s Goodies, not only after school but in the summers, she’d been able to save enough money to buy an older model car when she was eighteen.

Margaret was what people had once referred to as an old maid; and sometimes Faith thought the sweet old woman—who was now seventy-four—saw a kindred spirit in Faith. But unlike Margaret, who had lost her fiancé during the Korean War, Faith was going to marry and have a family. And nobody was happier for her than Margaret.

The town square had been a part of Whitewood since the town’s conception in the early 1800s. At Christmas the merchants decorated downtown Whitewood so perfectly that it looked like a winter wonderland, and the square was the pièce de résistance, the town’s true showcase. The two gazebos were strung with white lights, green garland and huge frosty white bows. Inside one gazebo was a life-size Santa with a pack of presents on his back and Rudolph at his side. A group of five life-size carolers, song books in their hands, stood inside the second gazebo, and a taped selection of Christmas carols played twenty-four hours a day during the twelve days of Christmas. But the twenty-foot Christmas tree, decorated with thousands of sparkling white lights held the place of honor in the center of the square.

Faith scanned the square for any sign of Worth, thinking perhaps he’d been as eager as she for this night and had shown up early. But maybe Worth wasn’t the type to be early or even on time for that matter. She knew so little about him, had so many things to learn. She didn’t even know if he liked his coffee black or with cream and sugar. But they had the rest of their lives to become acquainted, to get to know each others’ preferences.

Some people—like Jody—might think falling in love at first sight was a ridiculous notion, but Faith knew better. Well, maybe it hadn’t been exactly at first sight, but within the first twenty-four hours. And once they had made love, she’d had no doubts that they were meant to be together forever.

Faith wandered around through the square, following the concrete sidewalk onto the brick walkway that led from one gazebo to the other. The recorded music blasted a cheery rendition of “Let It Snow.” Peeking out beneath the umbrella, Faith saw no sign of snow. She held out her hand and several icy cold raindrops hit her knit glove. Suddenly a teenage couple came racing through the square, called out “Merry Christmas” to Faith, then ran across the street to the boy’s parked Jeep. The kids jumped in, revved the motor and zoomed away.

Only two months ago she had been living on a Mediterranean island working as the nanny to billionaire tycoon Theo Constantine’s seven-year-old daughter, Phila. She had loved her job and adored the Constantines and little Phila. Life had been pleasant and fulfilling. Faith truly believed that no job was as important as the care and nurturing of children. That’s why she’d chosen a career as an au pair. But her idyllic life had ended abruptly when Phila and she had been kidnapped by a rebel terrorist group called the Al’alim, taken to the mountains in Subria and held for ransom.

In the end everything had turned out well, but Phila and she had endured a terrifying ordeal. Theo Constantine had hired his own small army to free them from their abductors and Worth Cordell had been Faith’s personal rescuer. She would never forget his kindness the moment they first met. He had taken off his jacket and wrapped it around her because she’d been wearing nothing but a thin cotton gown. And when she’d cut her foot during their attempt to flee, Worth had swept her into his arms and carried her, keeping her safe.

Faith checked her watch. Five till eight. He’d be here soon. Then she’d take him back to her apartment, fix them cups of steaming hot cocoa and they’d cuddle on the sofa. The north wind picked up, whooshing fine pellets of sleet right into her face. Oh, dear, the rain had changed over to sleet.

But when Worth arrived, he’d take her into his arms and warm her immediately. Her mind recalled the night they’d spent together in the cave in Subria, the two of them, wet and cold. They’d stripped off naked, laid their clothes out to dry and cuddled together under a thin blanket in order to absorb each other’s body heat. She’d been afraid that night might be her last night on earth, that by morning the Subrian rebels would find them and kill them. And one thing she’d known for sure was that she didn’t want to die a virgin.

Suddenly the Methodist church bells rang out the hour. Eight o’clock. Faith listened, then smiled as memories washed over her. She’d never know where the courage had come from that night or how she’d been able to ask Worth to make love to her. Maybe it had been a courage born of fear. And Worth had been so sweet, so reluctant at first to take her. But in the end he had made sweet, passionate love to her and her life had changed forever.

Faith decided that she would stay warmer if she kept moving, so she walked around the square twice, then came back through it again. She checked her watch. Eight-twenty. Worth was late. Perhaps he’d run into bad weather on his trip from Atlanta. Or he could have gotten a late start, or taken a wrong turn.

Faith glanced across the street to see if Margaret had closed up shop. She had. All the stores on Main and on Cherry were closed. And there was no one on the streets. Occasionally a car passed, but there was no other sign of life. People were either home with their families, at holiday parties, or congregated in local churches for Christmas Eve services.

Her feet were cold, despite the thick socks she wore. And her hands were like ice under the knit gloves. Where are you, Worth…Where are you?

They had said goodbye in Subria six weeks ago, but they had agreed to meet here in the Whitewood town square at eight o’clock on Christmas Eve. If Worth loved her, he would be here. He’d promised. And she believed with all her heart and soul that Worth loved her as she did him. He’s just running a little late, that’s all. He’ll be here soon.

For over a week she had suspected she might be pregnant. They hadn’t used any protection when they’d made love. And Faith’s monthly period was usually as regular as clockwork. This morning she had driven over to Greenville to a drugstore and bought a home pregnancy kit. She thought it best not to let the entire town of Whitewood find out about her condition—not until after she and Worth were married. She’d been excited at the thought of carrying Worth’s child, but then she’d wondered how he’d feel about having a baby so soon. After all, even she had planned for them to actually date a few months before they got married. Originally she’d thought a June wedding was ideal, but now they’d have to push up the date. Maybe a New Year’s wedding. Something simple at the church with only Jody and Margaret and perhaps the Dawsons.

The Methodist church bells chimed the hour. Nine o’clock. How was it possible that she’d been here for a whole hour? Of course, she was so cold that her hands and feet felt numb. What had happened to Worth? Why was he an hour late? She knew that if he’d been detained, he would have contacted her. After all, it wouldn’t be that much trouble to get her home phone number. She was the only Faith Sheridan living in Whitewood. Oh, God, what if he’d had a wreck? No, she refused to consider the possibility. Worth was on his way here and would show up any minute now.

Suddenly Faith looked through her moist eyes and noticed it was snowing. She sighed deeply and hugged herself, settling down on a bench to wait. When Worth arrived, their reunion would take place with snowflakes falling all around them. It would be like a scene from an old movie. Lovers reuniting in the town square on a snowy Christmas Eve.

Time passed, but Faith wasn’t sure how much time. And when she heard Jody’s voice calling her, she tried to open her eyes, but couldn’t. Was she asleep? No, she couldn’t be asleep. She was in the square waiting for Worth. He would be here any minute now.

Jody began shaking Faith as she repeated her name and said, “Wake up, Faithie, wake up. My God, how long have you been lying here on this bench, out in the snow? Come on, honey, let’s get you up on your feet. I’m taking you to the hospital right now.”

“The hospital?” Faith managed to speak, but even to her own ears her voice sounded weak. “Why do I need to go to the hospital?”

“Oh, honey, you’ve been sitting out here in the snow, waiting for that damn man for over four hours.”

She felt Jody lifting her to her feet, then putting an arm around her and urging her to walk.

“What—what time is it?” Faith asked.

Before Jody could reply, the church bells rang out twelve times. Midnight. And Worth hadn’t shown up yet.

“I can’t leave,” Faith said. “Worth might—”

“Damn it, Faithie, he’s not coming. The guy’s a no-show.”

As Jody led Faith to her car, she heard her friend grumbling, “Men! They love you until they’ve had you, then it’s on to the next woman. But don’t you worry, honey, we’ll be all right. You don’t need him. You’ll get by just fine without him.”

“Worth,” Faith whispered. “Worth, where are you?”

Worth Cordell woke from a drug-induced sleep in the ICU of an Atlanta hospital…or he assumed he was in Atlanta. He glanced around the meticulously sterile room. Pale-green walls. No windows. An array of tubes and wires hooking him to various machines. The quiet hum of nurses as they went about their duties within the intensive care facility.

What the hell am I doing here? he asked himself.

His brain was fuzzy. His body ached, but it was a medicated ache that told him his true pain was being masked by some high-powered medicine. Worth felt as if his right leg had been run over by an army tank.

His right leg! Now he remembered. He’d been shot. He tried to raise himself up enough to look at his leg, to make sure it was still there. During his time in the Rangers he’d seen guys get their legs blown off and later in the hospital say they could feel their missing limb.

A strong, feminine hand came down over Worth’s chest and gently eased his head down on the pillow. “Lie still, Mr. Cordell. Don’t try to move around. Not yet.”

“Tell me something.” Worth looked squarely at the brown-eyed, middle-aged nurse.

She glanced down at him and smiled. “What would you like to know?”

“Is my leg still there?” he asked.

“Your leg?” Her smiled widened. “Your leg is very much there and it’s healing nicely. We should be able to transfer you to a private room by this time tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“I’m not sure. I’m a bit crazy-headed right now.”

“Your mind will clear up once we reduce your medication. Now take it easy and—” she pointed to a series of buttons attached to the railing on his hospital bed “—if you need anything, just punch right here and one of us will check on you.”

Worth nodded.

The nurse paused at the doorway, glanced over her shoulder and said, “Merry Christmas, Mr. Cordell.”

Merry Christmas?

“Is today Christmas Day?” he asked.

“Yes, it is.”

“How long have I been in here?”

“You were brought into the E.R. three days ago, on the twenty-second, and Dr. Winthrop did emergency surgery. He saved your life and your leg.”

“I am in Atlanta, aren’t I?”

“You’re in Piedmont Hospital and you’ve had visitors every day, but you probably don’t remember.”

“Visitors?”

“Your co-workers from the Dundee agency. A Mr. Sawyer, a Mr. Shea and a Ms. Evans.”

“Oh, yeah, my co-workers.”

Worth tried to remember exactly what had happened to him, but his memory was messed up. He’d been on an assignment, here in Atlanta, providing private security for some rock star in town for a Christmas concert. He could recall that much, but nothing about the particulars. When one of the guys from Dundee’s came back to the hospital, he’d find out the details.

Lying there, his leg aching and his stomach rumbling—when had he eaten last?—he suddenly remembered that he’d had a very important date on Christmas Eve. Faith! He was supposed to have met her in Whitewood, South Carolina, at eight o’clock in the town square.

Well, by now, she realized he wasn’t going to show up. She must have been really disappointed. Hell, he’d had every intention of meeting her. He’d owed her that much. After he had rescued her from kidnappers and gotten them back to safety, she’d developed a major crush on him. And he had developed a major case of the hots for her.

Maybe it was better for her—for both of them—that he hadn’t been able to meet her. Being laid up in the hospital this way, he had saved them both from an unpleasant scene. He had planned to tell Faith that he wasn’t the right man for her, that he wasn’t the settling-down, one-woman-man she needed. He was a man with too many emotional battle scars for a sweet woman like Faith. Plain and simple—he was no damn good for her.

She might be crying today, but by this time next year, she’d probably barely remember what he looked like. Yeah, maybe fate had done them both a big favor. He could continue his life as it was and she could move on to that fairy tale happily-ever-after she wanted with some other guy.

Chapter 1

Faith Sheridan locked the door to Toddle Town Day Care, the business she had opened in February, only a few short weeks after her recovery from hypothermia and pneumonia nearly ten months ago. With a bank loan, cosigned by Margaret Tompkins, and seventy-five percent of her savings, Faith had purchased a downtown building that had once housed a dry goods store that had gone out of business a couple of years ago. Located on Hickory Avenue, a back street in Whitewood, the two-story building was ideal. Her office and nursery were upstairs, where the infants were kept away from the toddlers on the ground level. Out back Faith had cleared off the empty half lot and put in playground equipment.

Opening a day-care center had seemed the perfect choice for Faith since her background was in child care; plus she had the added bonus of being able to keep Hope with her all the time. But today, her baby daughter was running a fever and she couldn’t risk exposing the other children to what the doctor had said was a twenty-four-hour virus. Luckily Lindsey Dawson had become like a grandmother to Hope, as had Margaret, and today Lindsey was looking after Hope.

Life wasn’t perfect, but Faith was content. She had a new business that was thriving, good friends all around her in Whitewood and best of all, four-month-old Hope. Her baby was the absolute joy of her life. But despite everything being well with her, she hadn’t forgotten Worth Cordell. How could she, when Hope was a living, breathing reminder of the man Faith still loved? She never talked about Worth anymore, not to Lindsey or Margaret—and certainly not to Jody, who was convinced Worth Cordell was a low-life scum.

As Faith headed toward her car, the November wind whipping chillingly all about her, she paused on the sidewalk and glanced around at both sides of the back street already decked out in holiday gear; not quite as elaborately decorated as Main Street, but shimmering with white lights. And each shop door on Hickory Avenue held a festive wreath. Every year, the decorations went up earlier and earlier. Here it was a few days before Thanksgiving and already the town was in Christmas mode.

The turn-of-the-century reproduction streetlights cast a mellow golden glow over the entire scene. Since she kept the day-care center open until six-thirty and all the other shops on Hickory closed at five-thirty, she was quite alone. But she never felt afraid, not here in Whitewood. Their crime rate was one of the lowest in the state.

Hitching her shoulder bag higher, she reached inside her coat pocket for her car keys, then headed straight for the used SUV she’d bought from one of Lindsey’s sons who lived in Columbia. The back seat held Hope’s infant seat and an array of toys scattered about, even in the floorboard. She couldn’t wait to pick up Hope and head straight home. She was unaccustomed to being away from her child all day and she longed to hold her baby in her arms.

Faith unlocked the driver’s door of the Chevy Blazer. Just as she stepped up to get inside, someone grabbed her from behind. She gasped, startled by the unexpected hand on her shoulder. When she tried to turn to face the person, she felt something hit her on the head. For a couple of seconds her vision blurred. What was happening? Was she being attacked? She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Oh, God, help me! Whoever had hit her was dragging her away from the car. She tried to struggle, tried to put up a fight, but she felt so weak. When she managed to squeak out a protest, something struck her head again.

Suddenly everything went black!

Worth Cordell finished the paperwork on his most recent assignment for Dundee’s, pushed the print button on the computer and leaned back in his plush office chair as he waited for the information to print out. This job had lasted nearly a month and ended with the apprehension of a stalker who’d been obsessed with her college professor. The twenty-year-old coed had finally moved beyond threatening behavior to actually trying to kill the professor’s wife. Worth had come damn close to taking the bullet meant for Marcia Hallmark.

After snatching the pages from the printer, he slipped them into a manilla file folder and laid it on his desk, then started to get up; but a sharp pain splintered through his bad leg. Hell! Leaning slightly to the left, he rubbed his thigh. The bullets he’d taken in that leg nearly a year ago had left him with a slight limp. For months after he’d been released from the hospital, he’d used a cane just to get around, but now, after endless therapy, he was about eight-five percent back to normal. He relied on the cane only when he’d been on his feet for too many hours and his limp grew decidedly worse. His life had pretty much returned to normal, but he’d have both the scars and the limp to always remind him of what had happened. He’d taken three bullets—two in the leg and one in the side—when a crazed fan had decided to become famous attempting to kill a rock star who had been in Atlanta for a concert.

“Worth Cordell,” Dundee office manager, Daisy Holbrook, called as she knocked on the door, then stuck her head into Worth’s office. “Mr. McNamara wants to see you right this minute. It’s urgent.”

Worth rose to his full six-four height, nodded to Daisy and said, “Tell him I’ll be right there.”

“Will do.” Daisy beamed that thousand-watt smile of hers and scurried away.

The young woman ran the Dundee office in downtown Atlanta with unequaled efficiency and had for the past year, since she’d been hired to replace the retiring former office manager. Daisy had been the first employee that new Dundee CEO, Sawyer McNamara, had hired when Sam Dundee had asked Sawyer to take over the top job when Ellen Denby married and left the business. Sawyer was the right kind of guy to run Dundee’s. He was smart, shrewd, and hard-nosed, as well as fair-minded. He was a no-nonsense type of man who instilled confidence and loyalty in his employees. Well, everyone except Lucie Evans. Worth had thought one of two things would happen when Sawyer took over the reins: either Lucie would resign or Sawyer would request her resignation. The two had been former FBI agents and the animosity between them apparently had deep roots. No one in the business knew the particulars; they only knew Lucie and Sawyer didn’t like each other. But to everyone’s surprise Lucie remained a Dundee agent and despite an occasional flare-up between the two, Sawyer and she somehow managed to coexist whenever they were both at the downtown office.

When Worth walked through Sawyer’s open office door, he heard the voice of a newscaster coming from the television housed in a compact entertainment center in Sawyer’s office suite.

“Come in. I thought you’d want to see this.” Sawyer motioned for Worth to come over to his desk. “Wasn’t Faith Sheridan the name of the Constantines’ nanny?”

A shiver of apprehension raced up Worth’s spine. He hadn’t heard that name spoken in nearly a year, but he had thought about Faith more often than he liked to admit, even to himself.

“Yeah, that was her name. Why?” Worth made his way over to the side of Sawyer’s desk.

“When the noon news first came on, they said something about a report coming up on a missing person named Faith Sheridan. I thought since you rescued Ms. Sheridan and took care of her after she and the Constantine child were kidnapped, you might be interested in finding out what’s happened to her.”

“It might not be the same Faith Sheridan,” Worth said.

“Might not be. The report is coming from someplace in South Carolina.”

Worth’s heart skipped a beat. “Whitewood, South Carolina?”

“Yes, I think that’s—”

“Faith told me she was going home to Whitewood when she handed in her resignation to the Constantines last year.”

“Well, this news story must be about her. Take a seat.” Sawyer indicated a leather wing chair to the left of his desk. “We’ll check out the report together.”

Just as Worth eased down in the chair, the local noon anchorman said, “Now to Connie Beck in Whitewood, South Carolina, where a young mother has been missing for the past thirty-six hours and feared to be the latest victim of the Greenville Slayer, who has murdered two women and left two others close to death in the Greenville, South Carolina area.”

Every muscle in Worth’s body tensed. Faith dead? No, it wasn’t possible. Not sweet little Faith. An overwhelming sense of grief sucker punched Worth, then he recalled something that the newsman had said. He’d said Faith was a young mother. Did Faith have a child? Was it possible that when he hadn’t shown up on Christmas Eve last year, she’d turned to another man? But if her name was still Sheridan, she wasn’t married. Faith was the old-fashioned sort of woman who would take her husband’s name when she married.

The face of the attractive brunette reporter, Connie Beck, appeared on screen. Beside the reporter stood a somber young blonde holding a baby in her arms.

“This is Connie Beck, coming to you from Whitewood, North Carolina, where Faith Sheridan, the owner of a local day-care center and mother of a four-month-old child, has been missing for the past thirty-six hours and is feared dead.”

Four-month-old child? Mentally Worth counted back. God in heaven! That meant Faith had given birth in late July or early August, which would mean she had conceived sometime in November.

Was it possible the child was his? No! He wouldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe it. Faith knew how to contact him through the Dundee Agency; if she’d been pregnant, she could have gotten in touch with him.

Worth tried to focus on what the reporter was saying. “Police aren’t revealing much about Ms. Sheridan’s disappearance, but our sources tell us the police fear she was abducted when she left the day-care center night before last, and with a serial killer—the Greenville Slayer—having recently hit in the town of Sparkman, only twenty miles south of Whitewood, there’s a good chance Ms. Sheridan is his latest victim.

“With me today is Ms. Sheridan’s best friend since the two were childhood playmates—Ms. Jody Crenson.” Connie Beck held the microphone toward Jody. “Jody, you have something you’d like to show us and something you’d like to say.”

Jody held up a photograph in one hand as she kept the baby, bundled in a pink blanket, poised on her hip. “This is Faith Sheridan. If anyone has seen her or has information about her, please contact the Whitewood police department. Faith’s friends are collecting reward money for anyone with information.” Jody removed the blanket from the baby’s head and the camera zoomed in on the child.

Worth’s heart stopped beating for a split second. Fat, pink cheeks, button nose, rosebud lips. A thick fluff of dark-red hair curled atop the child’s head and a set of dark-brown eyes stared into the camera.

She was his! He knew it the moment he looked at her. Faith’s baby was his daughter.

“This is Faith’s little girl. Hope needs her mother, so please, if you know anything, anything at all, about Faith’s disappearance, we need your help.” Tears spilled from Jody’s eyes.

“Thank you, Ms. Crenson.” The reporter caressed the baby’s rosy cheek, then turned back to the camera, which focused on her. “It is feared that Faith Sheridan is the fifth victim of the Greenville Slayer. This man murdered one woman and left two for dead in the Greenville area, all within the past two months. Only three weeks ago, his fourth victim was found dead in an abandoned warehouse in Sparkman, twenty miles south of here.”

Worth shot up from his chair and bounded out of Sawyer McNamara’s office. He had to get to Whitewood as quickly as possible. Every instinct he possessed urged him to find out what had happened to Faith and to see the child he knew had to be his.

Sawyer came out in the hallway and called to Worth, “What’s wrong with you? Where are you going in such a hurry?”

Worth slowed for a moment, glanced over his shoulder and replied, “I’m going to Whitewood to find out what happened to Faith.”

“I knew she had a major crush on you after you rescued her last year, but I didn’t think you reciprocated her feelings.”

Worth didn’t explain himself to anyone, didn’t justify his actions to anyone, not even his boss—not unless those actions directly related to a current case. But he did owe Sawyer some sort of explanation. “I’ll need some time off. I don’t know how long.”

Sawyer eyed Worth suspiciously. “Sure. Take however long you need. And call me if there’s anything I or the agency can do to help you.”

“Thanks.”

Worth hurried into his office, tossed his overcoat across his arm, then went by Daisy’s desk on his way out.

“Call the airlines and get me the first available flight to Whitewood, South Carolina. And arrange for a rental car.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Call me on my cell phone to let me know about my reservations.”

“I’ll take care of the arrangements for you, Mr. Cordell.”

Ten minutes later, Worth found himself stuck in downtown traffic. Twenty minutes later just as he entered his one-bedroom apartment, his cell phone rang. Daisy rattled off details of his flight and he registered the information mentally, then set about packing. His plane left Atlanta in less than three hours.

Margaret Tompkins and Lindsey and George Dawson sat around the table in Jody Crenson’s kitchen. Half-eaten sandwiches and empty coffee cups littered the table, along with piles of money.

Margaret punched the final numbers into her adding machine, then announced, “We have collected two thousand, six hundred and forty-two dollars and twenty cents.”

“George and I want to add a thousand dollars to that,” Lindsey said as she bounced a wide-eyed Hope on her knee.

“With my thousand, that will bring our total to nearly five thousand.” Margaret wiped away a tear. “I feel as if we should be doing something more. I want to go out and search this town, house by house.”

“The police have pretty much already done that,” Jody said. “Everyone in Whitewood knows Faith and if anyone has seen anything, this reward money—” Jody eyed the stack of bills and rolled coins in the middle of her kitchen table “—should entice even the most reluctant to come forward.”

“I simply can’t believe that anyone would harm a sweet child like Faith.” A portly, fifty-something George Dawson had been little Hope’s substitute grandfather since the day she was born and both Lindsey and Margaret shared the grandmother role, while Jody was simply Aunt Jody.

“If—and I’m only saying if—the Greenville Slayer—” Jody’s voice cracked with emotion.

She could not—would not—allow herself to believe Faith was dead. Her dearest friend had been through so much in the past year. Surely God wouldn’t be so cruel as to take her away from little Hope when the child didn’t have a father. Well, she did have a father, but the heartless bastard had taken advantage of Faith and hadn’t even bothered to call to say he was sorry. Jody would never forgive the man for standing up Faith a year ago on Christmas Eve. The poor kid had sat on a bench in the town square and waited for four hours—in the snow. When Jody had found Faith at midnight, she’d been suffering from hypothermia and had been practically delirious. A week’s stay in the hospital battling pneumonia and nearly a month’s recuperation at home had come at the same time evil bouts of morning sickness had hit Faith.

Jody had wanted to call Worth Cordell and demand he take responsibility for his child, but Faith had told her she wouldn’t ask Worth for anything.

“Obviously he doesn’t love me,” Faith had said. “If he did, he would have shown up at the square on Christmas Eve as we’d planned. I don’t want him to feel obligated to me just because I’m pregnant. If he doesn’t love me, my baby and I are better off without him in our lives.”

“Don’t you worry, Faithie, you’ve got people who care about you. We’ll help you,” Jody had told Faith, and the people gathered here tonight in her kitchen had made Jody’s prediction come true. Jody, Margaret and the Dawsons had stood by Faith through her pregnancy and rallied around her and little Hope like the family they had become.

Margaret stood and placed her arm around Jody’s shoulders. “It’s all right, dear, we know exactly how you feel. Faith is like a daughter to me. I refuse to believe that she’s dead.”

“So do I,” Lindsey added. “We can’t give in to our fears. We have to believe in a miracle. For Hope’s sake, if for no other reason.”

“I’ll take the money to the bank in the morning,” George said. “And open an account for the Faith Sheridan Reward Fund. And Lindsey will contact the newspapers and the local radio and television stations first thing tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” Jody offered George a fragile smile. “I don’t know what else we can do. We’ve circulated flyers in Whitewood and all the neighboring towns and the local police have been more than cooperative.”

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