“My sister has a daughter, a little girl named Katie.”

“A little girl. How do you feel about that?” Mason asked, thinking he could predict Lisa’s response all too well. No wonder she was chewing her lip. The dream of finding her birth family had not included a niece.

“I’m an aunt, and it’s…I guess it’s different. I never expected to be an aunt.”

Given that she’d babysat only once in her entire life—an upsetting experience, as he recalled—he doubted she’d be willing to have much to do with the child. “I assume you plan to meet Katie,” he said.

Lisa looked him straight in the eye, making it impossible for him to miss the hope in her expression. “No, it’s a lot more than that. Katie needs me. I’m bringing her home.”

Dear Reader,

There are few experiences in life as special as reading letters from those of you who have benefited from my books. So many of you wrote to say you identified with Emily Martin and her very personal loss in Baby in Her Arms. Your praise and appreciation made me realize that being able to write a story is a gift that reaches out to so many people in a very personal way.

This next book, A Child Changes Everything, was inspired by the idea that at some point in our lives as parents we experience a moment when we’re unsure whether or not we’re good parents.

Lisa Clarke’s journey from being a fearful, hesitant parent to her discovery of what joy there is in being a mother forms the basis of A Child Changes Everything. Equally important to Lisa’s story is Mason Stephens, the man she once loved, a man who comes to understand what it took for Lisa to bring Katie into her life. Their shared love for children rekindles their love for each other.

It is my hope that A Child Changes Everything will enrich your reading experience.

I welcome any feedback you might like to offer on this book, or any of my books. Please contact me on my Web site, www.stellamaclean.com, or e-mail me at stella@stellamaclean.com.

Sincerely,

Stella MacLean

A Child Changes Everything
Stella MacLean

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Stella MacLean has spent her life collecting story ideas, waiting for the day someone would want to read about the characters who have lurked in her heart and mind for many years. Stella’s love of reading and writing began in grade school and has continued to play a major role in her life. A longtime member of Romance Writers of America and a Golden Heart Award finalist, Stella enjoys the hours she spends tucked away in her office with her Maine coon cat, Emma Jean, and her imaginary friends while writing stories about love, life and happiness.

Books by Stella MacLean

HARLEQUIN SUPERROMANCE

1487—HEART OF MY HEART

1553—BABY IN HER ARMS

This book is dedicated to single parents everywhere, for the love and courage they show their children as they go about their daily lives.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To Paula Eykelhof and Adrienne Macintosh, my editors, whose generous editorial support enriched this book in so many ways.

To Megan Long, editorial assistant, for all her thoughtfulness.

To my husband, Garry, whose unstinting encouragement made writing this book a wonderful process.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER ONE

LISA CLARKE’S LIFE as she’d known it had ended.

She missed her mother; she especially missed the quiet evenings they’d shared these past few months, when they talked about her dad and her mother’s early years in the family home in Durham, North Carolina. Her mother had kept that house because she loved it, the house Lisa still lived in today. It was during those evenings that her mom had confided her dream of playing professional tennis, a dream she’d left behind when she married Lisa’s father. It was so like her mother to put her marriage first.

They’d been closer in those last months than at any time before, and Lisa was so thankful for all of it.

Today’s meeting with Sherman Tweedsdale, the family lawyer, about her mother’s will should be short and to the point. Other than a couple of bequests, she was the sole beneficiary.

Having given her name to his secretary, Lisa sat alone in the reception area. She didn’t mind waiting for Tank, as her parents had always called him. She had only an empty house to go back to, and pressure from a real-estate agent to sell the property.

She’d spent an hour this morning making a list of things she needed to have done should she decide to put the property up for sale. She’d learned the list-making habit from her mom. She sighed. It all felt too soon. There were so many good memories of her life in that house, memories she wasn’t prepared to abandon so quickly. True, her mom and dad had often been overprotective, but Lisa had realized long ago that their protection came from their love for her.

Relieved to have a few quiet moments to herself, she glanced around the paneled walls, her gaze coming to rest on a group of photos showing Tank’s achievements. Staring at a photo of her father and Tank at a Chamber of Commerce awards dinner, Lisa became aware of someone approaching the reception area.

Shifting her gaze, she saw Mason Stephens standing there. The room dipped and swayed before it settled back, and still he stood there, his long black hair almost touching the neck of his dark leather jacket. Pain circled her heart, draining the air from her lungs.

Attempting to hide her dismay, she stared at the man who’d walked out of her life five years ago. His eyes still held the same piercing quality, adding to the air of authority he carried so well. Lisa made an effort to block the rush of emotions his presence exposed. She toyed with her purse strap and tried desperately to slow her racing pulse.

She could not let him see how much it hurt to be reminded of her own role in the failure of their relationship—her refusal to agree to children, a refusal Mason could never accept.

“Hello, Lisa,” Mason said, his rueful smile lighting his gray-green eyes. Mason was a handsome man, and his good looks, combined with his self-assurance, made him every woman’s dream. Or nearly every woman’s…

“What are you doing here?” she asked, fighting to keep the tremor out of her voice as memories tumbled around her mind. Very often his evening shifts as a policeman and hers as a nurse had allowed them to meet at his apartment where they’d relax over a late supper. It was their special time together. She couldn’t forget the excitement of being with him.

Despite the fluttering sensation in her stomach, she squared her shoulders and waited for his answer.

“I’m here to meet Tank,” he said as he continued to look her over from his vantage point near the door.

Part of her wanted to bask in his appraising glance, but she couldn’t afford to succumb to his well-honed charms; she knew the emotional toll reliving the past would take. Five years ago she’d loved Mason and believed that he loved her, until the night he’d proposed at their favorite restaurant and talked about the children he wanted. She’d tried to explain that she wasn’t ready to have a family. But he hadn’t understood and instead had said hurtful things before walking out of the restaurant and out of her life.

She’d seen Mason briefly at her father’s funeral two years ago, as well as once at the grocery store with his then-wife, Sara, and their little boy. After that, she hadn’t seen him again until last month at her mother’s funeral.

So much for staying friends—his idea, not hers.

Still, although she missed Mason after they broke up, not seeing him was easier in so many ways.

Their final argument had ended in a painful exchange that convinced Lisa she was better off without him.

But her mother would want her to be polite, to take the high road. “Thank you for coming to Mom’s funeral. I really appreciated it.”

“You’re welcome.”

The minutes stretched while Lisa struggled to think of something to say to the man she’d once loved.

“So, you’ve become a P.I. I saw the ad in the paper for your firm. A year ago you left the police force, wasn’t it?” she said to ease the awkwardness between them.

Leaning against the door frame, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his sizzling-tight jeans. “Yeah, it’s been a pretty hectic year all-around.”

“How’s Sara?”

His expression clouded over. “You really want to know?”

Why had she asked that? Thanks to Sara’s sister Melanie, who was also a nurse and worked at the hospital with her, Lisa had heard that Mason’s marriage had ended after a year. She wasn’t interested in Mason’s ex-wife, and she definitely did not want him to think she was.

But she had always thought Sara and Mason made sense as a couple and deep down she believed they’d get back together. After all, they shared common interests like a love of rock music, motorcycles—and they shared a son, while she and Mason hadn’t been able to agree on something as fundamental as having children.

“Melanie hasn’t mentioned Sara or her singing career for a while,” she said, trying to explain the question to herself as well as him.

Mason shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes dark. “Sara’s doing fine—”

“Hello, there,” Tank Tweedsdale said, giving Mason a friendly smile as he cruised into the room. “We’ll just be a couple of minutes, Mason…if you want to wait here. Lisa, if you’ll come with me.” He beckoned her into his office and closed the door behind her.

She sat in one of the chairs facing Tank’s desk, relieved that all this would soon be over.

Placing his briefcase beside his desk, he bent over and kissed Lisa on the cheek, his goatee brushing her skin. “How are you doing, dear?” he asked, his kindly gaze searching her face as he took his own seat.

“I’m okay.” She settled farther into her chair as Tank opened the file in front of him.

“Lisa,” he began slowly, “you’re aware that other than a couple of bequests to Duke University you’re the sole beneficiary in your mother’s will. I’ve filed all the documents necessary to finalize the estate. Your mother’s stockbroker will be calling you in the next couple of days to go over your financial situation. You won’t have any money worries.”

She’d always known that her mom and dad had been careful investors, but money was the last thing on her mind. She nodded, waiting for him to continue.

Tank cleared his throat as he took a sheet of paper out of the file. “And of course you’re aware that you’re adopted.”

Adopted? Why would Tank bring that up? He was the lawyer who’d arranged her adoption thirty years ago. She nodded again. “My birth parents died in a car accident.”

Tank stared at the green banker’s lamp on the corner of his desk before meeting her questioning gaze. “That’s not completely true,” he said, passing her the paper. She glanced at the page and recognized her mother’s precise handwriting.

My Darling Lisa,

I’ve loved you since the moment you were placed in my arms. I have something to confess, and I pray you can understand that we did it because we loved you. We thought it best not to tell you that Carolyn Lewis didn’t die in the car accident with your birth father, that she is still alive. A lawyer we know in Florida contacted us about a baby girl that needed a home. He said that because of the accident, your mother could no longer take care of you and had elected to put you up for adoption. After your dad passed away, I began to worry that you’d be left without any close family, and so I wanted to tell you about Carolyn Lewis.

But my biggest fear has always been that if I told you about your mother it would make you so upset that you’d never speak to me again. By the time you read this, it won’t matter.

I hope you can forgive what your father and I have done. We should’ve told you, let you have a life with your birth mother, but we couldn’t bring ourselves to share you with anyone. We loved you with all our hearts, and you were everything we ever wanted in a child.

I won’t dwell on our reasons, or why we did what we did, as it’s too late for regrets. Tank is prepared to help you find your birth mother. Trust him, darling—he’s a good man and a dear friend.

Love,

Mom

Shock and bewilderment made Lisa’s heart pound against her ribs. Her throat tightened, warding off the sting of tears. “I don’t understand. If my birth mother is still alive, why did they keep her from me? I had a right to know my mother, for heaven’s sake!”

“Lisa, I’m sorry you had to learn about it this way, but your parents wouldn’t take my advice to tell you themselves. They were very private people who lived for each other—and you.”

Feeling betrayed by the two people she’d loved most in the world, Lisa turned on Tank. “What am I supposed to do now? How am I supposed to find my birth mother? And what if I have brothers and sisters and never had the chance to meet them? I don’t get it. Why did Mom wait until now to tell me? I deserved better than that. I’ve been a good daughter. Everything they ever wanted me to do, I did—”

“Your mother agonized over this for months after she was diagnosed with cancer. Alice tried to tell you, but in the end, she couldn’t do it. Finally, she asked that funds be set aside to see that Carolyn Lewis was found. If that’s what you want…”

His words reminded her of all the times she’d imagined her birth parents and what they would’ve wanted for her, all the times she’d wished she could have met them.

And all the while, her mother had been alive.

“What I want? I want my family…my mother, anyone who can tell me who I am. My whole life I believed there was some terrible secret buried in my past.”

Was there a dark secret involving her birth parents? Had they been criminals? Were they fugitives when her father died in the car accident? Why had no one come looking for her?

If there wasn’t something to be ashamed of, why hadn’t her adoptive parents told her Carolyn Lewis was alive? Why had they let her grow up without knowing the truth?

She’d often attempted to ask her mom and dad about her past, but each time they gave the same answer. There was no reason for her to concern herself with that sort of thing. This was always followed by their usual argument—they’d waited so long for her, they’d loved her before they’d even set eyes on her.

The desire to please her parents and to avert her mother’s onslaught of tears at the mention of her birth parents had stopped Lisa from seeking answers. Their attitude had increasingly made her feel set apart, isolated in the midst of her parents’ love.

“I can’t explain their decision, Lisa, but I had to respect their wishes.”

“All my questions could have been answered so easily.”

“Yes, they probably could have, but the past can’t be changed,” Tank said gently.

Her voice thick with loss and longing for what might have been, she whispered, “So, my dad—my birth father—died in a car accident, right?”

Tank nodded. “Grant Lewis died in a collision, and your mother, Carolyn Lewis, is somewhere in Florida…we believe.”

“Does Carolyn—I mean, my mother—know where I live?”

Tank sat up straighter. “Your parents didn’t say. I arranged your adoption, but I don’t have much information beyond the fact that your mother was in Florida at that time. I’ve taken the liberty of hiring Mason to find your mother.”

“Mason?”

“Mason does my investigative work, and he’s completely reliable,” Tank said, a sheepish look in his clear blue eyes.

“Is Mason the right person to do this? He was a great cop, and I’m sure he’s a good P.I….” But she couldn’t care less about his credentials at the moment. She and Mason just didn’t fit together, as lovers or as friends.

“Lisa, Mason’s had a rough time with his old partner in the P.I. firm. He’s had to start at the bottom and rebuild the business. He’s worked hard.”

“Yes, I heard about Stewart taking off with company money.”

“Mason still has great contacts in the law-enforcement business. If you want to locate your mother as quickly as possible, he can do it for you. Trust me. I’ll see to it that your interests are protected.”

“You spoke to him before talking to me about this?” she asked, annoyed that she hadn’t been consulted first but remaining polite. Being polite and courteous was her mother’s legacy.

He nodded.

“I don’t want Mason involved in my personal business.” There were a dozen reasons she didn’t want Mason around, beginning with the fact that he already knew too much about her.

“Lisa, I realize that you and Mason had your difficulties, but he will be discreet.”

She sat there, the knowledge that her mother was still alive filtering through her mind, and suddenly felt hopeful, ready to take on her new circumstances.

If working with Mason meant finding her birth mother as quickly as possible, she was willing to ignore the past. Besides, Mason was a very capable investigator. Better the devil you know, she mused. “Are you sure Mason wants to do this?”

“Mason has agreed to start immediately, and the sooner the search is under way, the sooner you can meet your birth mother…. If you want to go ahead with it, that is.”

Regardless of past differences, Mason would respect her privacy. “What matters most is finding my mother.”

“Thatta girl,” Tank said, relief evident on his face as he went to the door.

“Come in, Mason.”

Mason walked to the chair next to Lisa and sat down, putting him within touching distance. But touching him was out of the question. She edged away.

She listened while Tank ran through the provisions of the will, including funds set aside for locating Carolyn Lewis. Yet it was as if they were talking about someone she had no real connection with—and she didn’t. Not yet.

But that was a situation she planned to resolve, with or without Mason’s help. Still, as she listened to Tank, she caught herself hoping that she and Mason would be able to work together. Mason had always been a man of his word, someone she could rely on. It was one of his best qualities, as far as her parents were concerned. And he’d made her feel safe, which had seemed so contradictory, given his pull-out-all the-stops attitude toward life.

Seeing the concentration on his face, the way he was so comfortable in his own skin, his powerful hands resting on the arms of the chair, she was aware of how easy it would be to rely on him once again.

“This would be a professional relationship, nothing more,” she told him after Tank had finished his explanation.

“What other kind of relationship is there?” he asked with the barest hint of a smile on his face.

Those words reminded her of other words, earlier words, spoken in another time and place, laced with anger and pain. “None that fits this particular situation,” she said, tucking her arms against her body.

And yet, what they’d shared had been so special, so much a part of her dreams. When she’d been with Mason, everything had seemed possible. She didn’t want to admit that she still felt tiny pinpricks of regret. Had they made a huge mistake in letting their relationship go?

No, Mason dared to dream big, take risks…and in the end, she couldn’t see herself in a world like that.

He leaned toward her, his gaze direct, uncompromising. “Lisa, you don’t have to worry. I will not let our past interfere with doing my job. You need my professional help, and you can depend on me to deliver.”

Trapped by his gaze, she fought to hide her sadness that somehow their relationship had gone so wrong, so quickly. “I appreciate that,” she said. “And I am counting on it.”

MASON’S GUT ACHED seeing Lisa sitting there, so close yet out of reach. It hurt to hear her voice, so soft and sure, a voice that had once been a beacon of stability for him.

The blue of her eyes drew him into her space with the promise of how much she cared for those she loved—and a few years ago he’d been one of those lucky people.

Meeting her eyes, he reminded himself how different they were in their approach to life. How those differences had meant the end of their relationship.

She wanted certainty and being able to rely on a future bright with contented sameness. She didn’t seem to have the capacity to cope with change. And nothing he’d said had altered her position.

He could finally admit that as he sat next to her.

Lisa’s determination to maintain the status quo had been one thing, but it had been her refusal to consider having a family that had sounded the death knell for any future together.

He hadn’t understood her back then and he still didn’t. Lisa had every advantage in life, while he’d worked for everything he had. Yet she was afraid to take a chance on life, on him or anything outside her predictable world.

Meanwhile, he’d found a comfortable level of enjoyment, if not outright happiness, in his life after Lisa, even after his failed marriage. Despite the changes in his life, he’d often thought of her, if she’d found her own happiness without him.

But watching Lisa now forced him to admit how lonely she was, how much of an emotional blow learning about her birth mother had been. He’d been well aware of how deeply she’d yearned to know her birth parents, to be part of a family she could call her own, not those stiff-necked relatives on her mother’s side.

When Tank had initially filled him in on the case, Mason had believed that Alice and Jim Clarke’s actions were cruel, especially considering that they’d known better than anyone how lonely Lisa had been all these years.

Given the complication of his and Lisa’s past and its potential influence on the case, he had wanted to turn down the job, but the sad truth was that he needed the money to get his business on a sound financial footing. He would hardly be seen as anybody’s hero by including his financial welfare as part of his reason for taking Lisa’s case. But he had to get his finances straightened out if he was going to be able to provide for his son, Peter.

And the retainer from Lisa’s case would cover his agency’s expenses for at least a month—enough time to expand his client list.

In addition to the advantages a cash retainer gave his struggling agency, there was another issue, a much more fundamental one. If Lisa had to learn bad news about her birth mother, he owed it to her to be the one to tell her. She probably wouldn’t agree that he was the best person to do it, but seeing her brought forward feelings he’d never admitted to anyone. Not even to himself. When they were together, he’d wanted to be the one she turned to, the one she could trust. He’d blown it then, but now he had the chance to make it up to her.

Before he’d walked in here today he’d convinced himself he could handle this job. Sitting there now, seeing her obvious distress, made him a little less sure.

“Lisa, I won’t take the case if it makes you uncomfortable.”

She started to say something, then caught herself. “I want you to find my mother,” she said, determination flowing through every word.

“I’ll do whatever I can,” he responded, seeing how tightly she gripped the arms of the chair. At least she wasn’t doing her best to ignore him the way she had the few times they’d met over the past five years.

Lisa had been a dutiful, loving daughter to her parents, the same parents who’d let her down. Lisa’s dedication to them was one of the reasons he’d been attracted to her in the beginning. Lisa had never failed to organize birthday parties for her mom and dad. She’d once told him that one of her reasons for becoming a nurse was to be there for them when they needed nursing care.

Although Lisa seemed to be accepting the loss of her mother quite well, Mason knew that deep down she had to be hurting. Easing her pain was another justification for doing what he could to help her.

“Thank you,” she said.

Seeing the apprehension on her face, he ached to take her into his arms. But what would be the point? He didn’t need the grief of revisiting an old relationship and all the mistakes lurking there. With Lisa, he’d made the kind of mistakes that couldn’t be undone.

“Great. Now that Mason’s on board, we’re all set,” Tank said. “Lisa, I’ll keep you informed of Mason’s progress on the case.”

“So that’s it? There’s nothing left to do?” Lisa asked in a calm voice.

“Only to wait for Mason’s report,” Tank said, turning his attention to Mason.

Taking that as his cue to get on with the job, Mason stood. “I’ll be in touch.”

He’d almost made it to the door when he heard her.

“Mason, I need to speak to you.”

Tank gave a nervous chuckle. “Then I’ll leave you two young people alone.” Tank was up and out the door before either of them could respond.

Lisa came toward Mason, her back straight. She was, as usual, immaculately groomed. Not a strand of her highlighted blond hair had escaped from her ponytail. Her pearl earrings matched her pearl-drop necklace. Her short black skirt showed off her legs as she moved.

“What can I do for you?” he asked, trying to ignore the memory of how right she felt in his arms, how the perfume she always wore made his blood run hot.

“When you locate my mother, I expect you to call me immediately. I want to see her as soon as I can.”

Hope shone from her eyes, but Mason had worked in missing persons and knew the devastation hope could cause when the search turned sour.

“I understand how you feel, but have you considered that this might not be a positive experience? Maybe your parents didn’t tell you about your birth mother for a good reason.”

Shock darkened her eyes. She lifted her chin. “I don’t care what the reasons are. If she’s alive, I’m going to meet her.”

He saw the purposeful set to her jaw, but pressed on, anyway. “Lisa, sometimes there are things we’re better off not uncovering.”

“Not in this case. If I’d been told about my mother, I would’ve found her years ago.” She worked her fingers through the strap of her black leather bag, her eyes holding his. “My mother deserves to know who I am, what I’ve become. That I turned out just fine…without her.”

Her voice dropped to an emphatic whisper. “I need to meet her.”

He recognized something in her eyes he’d only seen when they’d talked about his chaotic life growing up in a family of six kids.

Naked longing.

“You’re hoping you have a sister or a brother.”

A whimper of protest slipped past her lips, and her eyes widened. “Please find my mother as soon as possible.”

It wasn’t as if he was flush with cases. And with that look in her eyes, it wouldn’t have mattered, anyway. “I’ll make this my priority.”

He saw her reach for him, then pull back. He understood that her reaching out was an act of relief rather than any caring for him. But he’d taken away her reason to care with his impulsive behavior. He’d do what he could to support her through this. He owed her that much.

The breakup had been his fault because in his shock and anger at her insistence that she didn’t want children he’d said some pretty nasty things about her selfishness, her stubbornness and the cold heart she had to have not to want to share her life with a child. He’d regretted his words afterward, but it was too late to take them back. He could never heal the hurt he’d seen in her eyes, and he’d never been able to erase that look from his mind. “Here’s my business card and cell number. Call me anytime.”

“Thank you,” she said, and for the first time since he’d entered the room a smile raised the corners of her mouth.

As she turned to leave, Mason wished they could somehow connect, despite everything that had gone wrong between them. He needed her appreciation, her respect, as much now as he had back then.

Back when they’d loved each other, he had believed she could change—that loving Lisa the way he had would give her the courage to take a chance on their love, their future together.

He’d learned the hard way that Lisa Clarke wouldn’t risk her emotionally safe way of life, regardless of what was at stake.

CHAPTER TWO

SEEING MASON HAD BEEN unsettling to say the least. Trying to overcome the crazy and confusing emotions his return to her life had created, Lisa spent the next two weeks, in between shifts at the hospital, working on all the estate paperwork and financial issues that still had to be dealt with.

Tank was right—money would not be a problem for her, which meant she was free to do whatever it took to locate her birth mother.

Despite her earlier misgivings, the idea that her mother might be out there somewhere filled her with excitement and hope for the future.

She missed her adoptive mother a great deal, but Alice’s overprotective and fearful attitude had been a source of anxiety in Lisa’s life.

Although Alice Clarke had never said it in so many words, Lisa had understood that as much as her mother loved her, she hadn’t been at ease with raising her. Children were cause for concern. Children were accidents waiting to happen.

But what her adoptive mother had done or not done was in the past. The important thing now was to hear from Mason about Carolyn Lewis. How would it feel to see the woman who’d given birth to her? What would her mother look like and how would she sound?

There were moments she couldn’t believe Carolyn was still alive. That the morning in Tank’s office had been a dream.

When Alice became ill, Lisa had given up her apartment and moved home to manage her mother’s care with the help of a home nurse. This morning, finding it difficult to sleep in her parents’ empty house, Lisa went to work early for her day shift at Duke Medical.

Two years ago, she’d left her job as a nurse in the emergency department to go to the pediatric unit to better understand why children made her so anxious. Despite her initial fear she had been surprised at how much she enjoyed working in pediatrics. When a position had opened up for head nurse of the unit, she’d cranked up her courage and applied. A month ago she’d gone in for the interview and she was hopeful. If she got the job it would be proof that she could be responsible for a child—at least of their physical needs. Whether or not she could tend to their emotional needs by coming to grips with her own feelings was still unlikely. But it was a step in the right direction and she was proud of how far she’d gotten in the process.

Although she defended her decision not to have her own children that night in the restaurant to Mason, his words had had an impact.

And her time in the pediatric ward had forced her to face the root of her anxieties. Sure, her mother had influenced how she behaved around kids, but the real reason was Linda Jean Bemrose and the night the little girl had nearly died when Lisa was babysitting. All because she’d been talking on the phone instead of watching Linda Jean.

“I didn’t expect you to be here this early,” Melanie Campbell said as Lisa entered the unit. “How are you doing?”

Lisa hadn’t seen Sara’s sister for a couple of weeks, due to different nursing rotations. “I’m doing quite well, really.”

“You’re sure? I was worried the pressure of caring for your mother and then going through the funeral might be too upsetting for you. If it were me, I’d be so tired.” Melanie slumped down in her chair.

Lisa wished she could tell Melanie about her birth mother, but it would mean a whole lot of explaining she couldn’t handle right now.

It embarrassed her that she felt she couldn’t share something important in her life with a friend, but that was how private issues had been dealt with in her family. The only person she’d ever talked to about being adopted was Mason. He’d been so understanding when she’d told him how much she wished she’d known her birth parents. That confession had brought them closer—until that night at the restaurant. She wondered afterward if maybe he’d been looking for an excuse to break up with her; he’d never made an issue of children before that night. When she’d heard he’d married Sara a short time later, her suspicions were confirmed.

“It’s been a difficult time,” she said, “but each day gets a little easier.”

“I have the perfect tonic for you. Sara’s rock band is playing a Fourth of July concert right here in Durham, and I have two free tickets.”

Sara’s band wasn’t her type of music. Lisa preferred light classical, but it was sweet of Melanie to offer her a ticket. “Thank you for thinking of me, but maybe another time.”

Enthusiasm radiated from Melanie’s brown eyes. “You’re going to miss a great night. Sara said an L.A. talent agent is going to be at the July 4th show. She’s already met him a couple of times and she’s sure that he’s going to offer her a contract.” Her smile faded. “Then the band would have to move to L.A.”

Mason and Sara were divorced, but what would happen if Sara took Peter away with her? How would Mason feel about that? But it was no longer her concern; besides, she needed to concentrate on her own life.

“Your sister’s braver than I am. I wouldn’t want to move away from here. Especially to a place like Los Angeles.”

“Me, neither, but Sara’s music career is important to her.”

Lisa merely nodded but underneath her calm exterior, she felt a strange sense of loss. Regardless of how he’d behaved with her, she’d always known what family meant to Mason. He would want Peter to be around people who loved him, especially Mason’s large family.

HOURS LATER, WEARY BUT feeling good about her workday, Lisa parked by her house. As she entered, she was acutely aware of the silence. Without the sounds of the TV and the caregiver chatting and playing cribbage with her mother, the house had no life.

On nights like this the idea of listing the house made sense to her. She put her keys and purse on the granite counter and slipped her arms out of her jacket.

As she’d done for the past two weeks, she checked for messages, and this time there was one—from Mason. He was in Florida and wanted her to call him on his cell.

Barely able to contain her excitement, she dialed the number. Mason answered on the first ring. “Thanks for getting back to me,” he said.

She clutched the phone. “You found my mother.”

“I did. Carolyn Lewis is in a nursing home outside Melbourne.”

Carolyn Lewis. Her mother. Despite all the times she’d imagined meeting her, she was suddenly over come with dread at the prospect.

“Is she okay? What did she say when you told her I was looking for her?”

There was a long pause.

“What’s wrong? Mason, please, if there’s a problem, I need to know. Is she okay?” Then a thought struck her. “Is my mother ill?”

“No, she seems all right, Lisa. But I didn’t talk to her. That’s up to you. How soon can you get down here?”

If she could trade a couple of shifts… “I’ll be there the day after tomorrow. Where exactly are you?”

“Have you got a pen handy?”

She searched the kitchen drawer, unearthing a pen and pad of paper from under the material the real estate agent had left her. “Go ahead.”

He gave her the address of Carolyn’s nursing home and the hotel where he was staying.

“I’ll call you as soon as I’ve made arrangements with the hospital,” she said. It might mean asking for more time off, but whatever it took, she’d be on the road the day after tomorrow. “Mason, one last thing—”

“You’d like to know if you have any other family. I can’t answer that, but if it’ll help, I’ll go with you when you visit her.”

Had he discovered something in Melbourne that he didn’t want to tell her over the phone? He’d warned her that she might not like what she found out, hadn’t he? She held the phone even tighter.

Could she face this on her own? When her father had died she’d had her mother, and when her mother had become ill and then passed away, she’d had her mother’s caregiver and her friends. But now she felt very much alone and unequipped to deal with everything.

Mason was the only person she knew in Florida. Having him with her would make it easier.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d go with me,” she said, taking a deep breath.

“You got it. I’ll be waiting for you,” he said, his reassuring voice comforting her.

TWO DAYS LATER, Lisa stood beside Mason outside the Palmetto Bayside Nursing Home, her hands clammy as she tried to quell her anxiety. She’d driven most of the night to get from North Carolina to Florida. During the long hours, she’d been consumed by one idea—what if her mother hadn’t contacted her in all these years because she didn’t want to see her?

But how could she not want to see her daughter? Lisa didn’t say the words out loud. Mason already felt sorry for her; it had been in his eyes, which was more than enough reason not to confide in him. “How do I tell her who I am?”

“Lisa, you just got into town thirty minutes ago. Why don’t we come back a little later after you’ve had a chance to relax and think about how you want to handle this?” Mason’s gentle tone was in stark contrast to his assessing gaze.

She’d thought of nothing else in the final hours before she turned off I-95. “No, it has to be now.” Before I lose my nerve.

A frown formed on Mason’s face. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. I’ll wait outside the room while you go in. If you need me, come to the door.”

“Thank you.” She was aware of the tremor in her voice as she spoke.

“You’ll be okay,” he said encouragingly, placing his hand on the small of her back as they walked to the main entrance together.

After they checked in at the reception desk, the aide assigned to her mother led them down the corridor to Carolyn Lewis’s room. The hallway was narrow and cluttered with wheelchairs and walkers. The paint on the walls was chipped and marked, and a faint scent of baby powder and stale urine hung in the air.

At the door, the aide entered and Mason stepped back, allowing Lisa to follow. “I’ll be right here,” he whispered.

Apprehension rushed through her. She turned her face up to his. “Wish me luck.”

He winked at her. “Good luck.”

Clasping her purse with both hands, she walked in. At first, she wasn’t sure which of the two people was her mother. One woman sat in a wheelchair by the window, while the other lay on her bed, muttering to herself as she read the paper. Lisa hesitated.

“Mrs. Lewis, you’ve got a visitor,” the aide said, moving toward the woman in the wheelchair.

Lisa inched forward, her heart thudding. The woman shifted in her chair, pain skidding across her face at the movement. Her gaze was direct as she looked up at Lisa. “Who are you?”

“I’m Lisa.”

“No… It can’t be. Lisa, is that really you?” Carolyn extended her hands, her long, bony fingers quivering. “Tell me I’m not dreaming.”

Lisa’s mouth was suddenly dry. “You’re not. I’m Lisa, your daughter.”

Joy lit her mother’s expression, her face trans formed by a smile as Carolyn Lewis’s eyes roved slowly over Lisa. “You look so much like your father,” she murmured.

Relieved that her mother recognized her, Lisa slid into the chair beside her. “I look like my dad,” she whispered. Happiness brought a smile to her face as she took her mother’s hand. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Moving closer, she kissed her mother’s cheek.

“Yes, there’s so much of your father in you. He had high cheekbones, too—very aristocratic. You have his blue eyes and blond hair.”

Gently she touched Lisa’s hair. “Oh, my darling daughter, I’ve wanted to meet you for so long. You have no idea what it’s like to live in hope that one day you’ll see your little girl again,” she said, a smile trembling on her lips.

Words abandoned Lisa as she met her mother’s eager gaze.

Carolyn appeared much older than Lisa had envisioned. With her gray-streaked hair pulled up in a bun and her face devoid of any makeup, she looked aged, worn-out. As much as she hated herself for doing it, Lisa couldn’t help comparing Carolyn with her immaculately groomed adoptive mother, who had never missed a hair or manicure appointment.

Yet as she sat there, studying this woman who held her past, the words slipped out. “Why didn’t you come for me? Why did you leave me alone all these years? I needed you—”

Carolyn softly stroked Lisa’s cheek, her eyes alight with love and caring. “I couldn’t. I promised your parents I wouldn’t try to contact you if they’d provide a good life for you.”

“But why did you give me up? Surely you had family to turn to after my dad died.”

“I had no brothers or sisters, and my parents were gone. My sister-in-law, your aunt Helen—God rest her soul—did what she could to help me.”

Her mother pulled Lisa’s hands into her lap. “Let me explain. I was four months pregnant when we had the accident. Your father died after a week in the hospital, and I nearly lost you from the trauma. Then I spent months trying to regain the use of my legs.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lisa said, squeezing her mother’s fingers.

“They were expensive months, and not only that, I suffered permanent physical damage. I couldn’t pay the hospital bills or put bread on the table. Even with insurance there were still extra medical bills to pay, plus funeral expenses, and we had very little in savings. I would’ve found a way to keep you if I’d been able to work, but it wasn’t possible.”

Overcome with a sense of regret, Lisa glanced away, her eyes coming to rest on several photographs that stood on the windowsill behind her mother. “Do I have…family?”

“You have an older sister, Anne Marie.” Her mother reached for a framed photo on the window ledge and passed it to Lisa. Smiling at the camera was a tall woman with short brown hair and glasses, wearing a yellow tank top and shorts.

A sister. I have a sister. Delight tugged at her as she picked up the photo, searching for clues about her sister. “What’s she like? Where does she live? What kind of music does she listen to? Does she play sports? I’m hopeless at anything but tennis,” she admitted, eager to learn everything she could about her sister.

“Anne Marie played basketball in high school.”

Lisa held the picture in unsteady hands, fighting back hurt that her mother had somehow managed to keep in touch with Anne Marie and not her. “What happened to Anne Marie? Where did she live after the accident?”

“Anne Marie was five when your father died. I was afraid that if I approached an agency, they’d take her from me because I couldn’t care for her, and I’d never see her again. I couldn’t lose both my children—” She choked on the words.

“If your aunt Helen hadn’t taken Anne Marie, I don’t know what I would’ve done. As it turned out, I got word that a lawyer in Tampa who knew Mrs. Clarke had found a home for you. The lawyer told me that your parents couldn’t have children and they wanted to adopt a baby girl. With no money coming in except social security—which didn’t even cover the cost of my medical bills—I had to believe you’d be better off with a couple with the money to give you what you needed. I wouldn’t have let you go with them if I’d had any choice.”

“Why couldn’t Aunt Helen raise me?” Lisa asked, unwilling to think that giving her up had been that simple.

“She was divorced with very little income, and she had two toddlers of her own. Besides, if you had the chance to have every advantage in life, at least I could give you that opportunity,” her mother said, voice shaking. “I wanted you to have what I’d never be able to provide for you. The doctors told me my legs would never be right again, which meant I couldn’t earn a living. Anne Marie was about to start kindergarten when Grant died. I was afraid she would be traumatized by being taken away from her mother, her home. You were just a baby, you wouldn’t remember any other life but the one you had with the Clarkes. If I could have kept you both, I would have. But look around you, what kind of life would you have had here with me?”

“Did you ever try to contact me, to see if I was doing okay? You didn’t just let me go, did you? How could you do that?” Lisa asked, holding her loneliness at bay. “I wanted you. I needed to know who you were, who I was.”

Tears pooled in Carolyn’s eyes as her voice sputtered. “I… It—it was a long time ago, and I made a promise to your parents. For the most part, I kept that promise so I wouldn’t cause trouble for you.”

Lisa bit back a sharp retort. What good would it do to take out her anger on this woman who was convinced she’d done the right thing? “I wish—”

“Look here,” Carolyn said, her face suddenly suffused with excitement. “I have something to show you.” She turned her wheelchair to the window and picked up a black-and-while photo in a silver frame. “Do you remember this?”

Lisa took the photo, staring at it in disbelief. It was a picture of her standing with a girl she had met that unforgettable day in front of Smiley’s hot-dog stand. “We were vacationing in Myrtle Beach. I was eight. My mother didn’t want me near the water. She was afraid I’d drown. But Dad let me go, and I met this girl on the beach. We played together most of the afternoon.”

She smiled at the memory. “I was so pleased that someone older was willing to play with me and treated me like a big kid. We had a great time in the water. I’ll always remember that day. Her name was Mary. How did you get this?”

Her mother touched the picture lovingly. “Despite my promise not to see you after you were adopted, I got a friend of mine to check the telephone listings for every Clarke in Florida, Georgia and the Carolinas. Just before your eighth birthday, I located your parents and called them. Your mother was very upset. She reminded me that I’d agreed not to see you or be involved in your life, and if I called again, she’d have her husband, a district attorney, take action to protect you from me.”

“My mother said that?” Lisa asked, shocked to learn Alice Clarke could do something so cruel.

“In the conversation she let it slip that they were taking you to Myrtle Beach for your birthday. My situation hadn’t changed, I still couldn’t care for you. But I had to know that you were being well treated, that you were happy. I was frantic to see you. I didn’t dare make the trip because I wasn’t well, but mostly because I couldn’t trust myself not to talk to you and break my agreement with your parents.”

“So, what did you do?”

She sat back in her wheelchair, her gaze locked on Lisa’s face, her eyes bright. “Helen agreed to go and make sure you were okay. A reporter friend of hers had found a photo of your father in the Durham newspaper. I still have the clipping. Helen and I saved every spare penny so she could make the trip with Anne Marie and her kids. She intended to watch for your father and get a quick snapshot of you. You can imagine her pleasure when you and Anne Marie struck up a friendship. She took this picture for me so I could see what a beautiful child you were.”

“And all that time my sister and my cousins were there and I had no idea,” Lisa said, her heart opening to the love in her mother’s eyes. Her mother had never given up on her; she’d been there in secret, loving her and needing to make sure she was all right.

“This photo of you playing with Anne Marie—we called her Mary when she was little—has been a constant source of comfort to me.”

“For weeks after that trip to Myrtle Beach, I begged my parents to let me invite Mary to come for a visit. But somehow it never happened… Could my parents have known who Anne Marie was?”

“Helen didn’t think so, which was a huge relief to both of us. If they’d recognized her somehow, I’m sure I would have heard from their lawyer about breaking my promise. Anyway, none of it matters now. You’re here and my prayers have been answered.”

“My sister and I spent a day at the beach together, and neither of us knew who the other one was?”

Carolyn nodded, a sweet smile on her face. “Helen didn’t tell Anne Marie who she was playing with…yet it was so like your sister to be kind to younger children.”

“My aunt Helen was aware of who I was and said nothing?”

“I’ve always wondered how Helen managed to keep my secret from Anne Marie.”

“Anne Marie doesn’t know about me?”

“No, I never told her. When I was pregnant, we had talked with Anne Marie about her new sibling, but she didn’t really understand. So when I decided to give you up, I thought it best for the Clarkes to take you straight from the nursery and I would explain if she asked or when she was older. But with her life in such upheaval, she didn’t ask, and as time went on it just got more difficult to bring up the subject.”

“What about after the trip to Florida? Why not say something then?”

A look of regret crossed Carolyn’s face as she whispered, “I thought about it, but if she’d realized who you were, she might have gone to your parents later on and…caused problems for you.”

She and Anne Marie had both been robbed of so many experiences. How she wished she could have known her sister all these years. Not having the opportunity to share her childhood with her made Lisa even more determined to make up for lost time. She had a sister whom she’d loved with all her young heart that sun-filled day on the beach. “I really liked her. She was so accepting, so much fun. To think I played for hours with my sister… Where is she? I want to meet her.”

Pulling her hands from Lisa’s, Carolyn drew back, pain and heartache in the lines of her face. She swallowed, her hands working nervously in her lap. “Anne Marie was arrested two days ago. She’s in jail.”

CHAPTER THREE

TAPPING THE WALL impatiently, Mason waited for Lisa to come out of her mother’s room. The old need to protect her welled up in him, making him restless. He was very conscious of the fact that they were no longer involved, yet seeing Lisa’s anxiety over meeting her mother had bothered him more than he’d expected.

As he stood there, he wondered how they’d ever ended up together. Before he’d met her, he’d boasted to his buddies that there wasn’t a woman alive who could hold him, which was the truth—until the day he stood across the gurney from Lisa, the emergency room nurse caring for his mother, who’d broken her arm.

For the first time, he’d found himself speechless with a woman. And he hadn’t the faintest clue why, except that her eyes seemed to look directly into his soul.

But all of that was ancient history now.

Still, as he continued to wait, he had mixed feelings about how easily he’d been drawn back into her life.

He and Lisa had had little contact in the years since their breakup. He’d met Sara on a blind date and started a relationship in which he’d confused caring with love. When Sara had told him that she was pregnant, he’d married her, but they’d both realized quickly it was a mistake. The marriage had ended a short time later by mutual agreement. A year ago he’d made another impetuous decision, leaving the police force and joining what had turned out to be a financially beleaguered private investigation firm. The company was solely under his name now, and he was starting to get it back on its feet—but only just.

While Lisa was living her life to a precise formula, he’d been making rash and ultimately misguided decisions. Not that his son was a mistake in any sense of the word. His love for Peter was the reason he’d been rethinking his own life, even before tackling this case. His love for Peter had opened his eyes to the dangers of being a police officer, and his hours didn’t provide the kind of flexibility he needed to be the kind of father he wanted to be. Although he was passionate about his job, being there for Peter was more important.

The day Sara had told him about the talent agent coming to her concert he had been shocked and unprepared for the rush of emotion, especially the fear that he might lose his son. How would he ever manage without Peter? How would Peter adjust to leaving his family—grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins?

He couldn’t see himself in L.A., and he didn’t feel it was a place to raise Peter. But if he didn’t move near Sara, his time with Peter would be made up of short visits and lots of travel. Sara and he had joint custody, which worked well for both of them and provided Peter with as much stability as possible. He couldn’t imagine being without Peter, the everyday contact, the love that overwhelmed him whenever his son smiled.

He wanted to be an involved father, and that meant living close to his son.

Should he consider going to L.A.? It wasn’t his idea of paradise, but did he have a choice?

His parents would be devastated. Peter spent many happy hours visiting his grandparents and playing with his cousins.

Thinking about his son reminded him of Lisa and what she was going through. Considering how important today was for Lisa, he’d told her his being here was for old times’ sake, and that was part of it.

Only seeing her in Tank’s office and again today, he felt the old attraction drawing him into her life, reminding him how good their love had been. No other woman had made him want to be near her every moment the way Lisa had. Lisa’s welcoming arms made everything seem right.

Yet in a fit of anger and wounded pride, he’d hurt her that night in the restaurant. He’d walked out and never tried to make amends. What an idiot he’d been!

He realized how hard it must have been for her that day in Tank’s office. She’d just learned about her birth mother, and then was forced to accept the help of a man who had been responsible for so much pain in her life. And still, despite all of their history and their differences, she’d graciously accepted his assistance.

A rustling sound made him turn. Lisa came toward him, her face tense, her shoulders hunched against some unseen force.

“Would a friendly shoulder be in order?” he asked, searching her face for the source of her agony.

“A shoulder would be nice,” she said, a catch in her voice.

He held out his arms, and she stepped into them as if she’d never stopped doing it.

“I met her. I met my mother,” she said, her body trembling.

He cradled her gently. “What’s she like?”

“She’s been in a wheelchair for years. She’s so frail and alone, so in need of care and attention,” she whispered.

He glanced down at her. “Is that your nursing assessment?” he asked.

“Yeah, partly.” She gave him the faintest of smiles. “But, Mason, she’s had such a hard life, so many things have gone wrong for her, things she couldn’t control. I can’t imagine how it would feel to give up a child…to fear the future. All these years my mother loved me enough to offer me a better life, to put me first.”

“But you’ve found her now. You can make a difference.”

Her arms tightened around him. “Yes, and I’ve got plans for Mom—I want her to come live with me. There’s so much I can do for her if I bring her to Durham. She needs an aggressive physiotherapy program, and I can organize and oversee that better if she lives there. And on top of that, I have a sister…finally, and she needs me. I have a sister. It doesn’t seem possible.”

Surprised and pleased for her, Mason was glad he’d been here when she’d found her family. “Lisa, that’s wonderful. You’ve waited so long to find your mother, and now a sister. How different your life will be from here on.”

“Yeah, it is wonderful, and strange at the same time.”

They stood there in the hallway holding each other the way they used to, and Mason was acutely aware of how right it felt to him.

She must have felt it, too, because the old Lisa reasserted herself. Suddenly she pulled out of his arms. Tucking long strands of her blond hair behind her ears, she fixed him with an anxious look.

“My sister’s name is Anne Marie Lewis. She’s five years older than me. It’s so strange…to be needed, to be the one who can truly change someone’s future. All my life my parents pampered me and loved me while my own family was left to struggle with so much less. If only I’d known… I’ve got to find Anne Marie. She’s in trouble.”

Mason recognized that look of exhaustion in Lisa’s eyes. He’d seen it many times when he’d arrive at her apartment after her evening shift in Emergency. Lisa was feeling stressed, and who wouldn’t be after what she’d been through?

“Why don’t we get you checked in and something to eat first, and then you can tell me about your mother and your sister.”

AN HOUR LATER, Lisa followed Mason down the hotel corridor without paying much attention to her surroundings. On the drive here from the nursing home, all she could think about were her mother’s parting words.

How could Anne Marie have ended up in jail? Her mother hadn’t said any more, and Lisa had been too shocked to ask. Afraid she couldn’t cope with the situation, she’d practically run from the room.

Yet those few minutes with her mother had changed her life forever.

She had finally met the woman who gave birth to her. The one person who could tell her who she was, where she came from. Although she’d been nervous about meeting her mother, her fears had all been washed away in those first moments with Carolyn Lewis.

Instead of a woman with a dark secret as she’d feared, her mother was a woman who’d had the strength to survive in the face of difficulties that would have discouraged and demoralized a lesser person.

And now after years of wondering, Lisa would have a chance to learn all about her family. In the meantime, her mother and her sister needed her, and she’d be there for them.

She’d never had to take charge of a family situation before. But her family was desperate for help, and she was the only one who could provide it.

These feelings were as foreign as the world she found herself in—her mother unable to care for herself, her sister in jail.

As they arrived at the room Mason had booked for her, he opened the door, then put her suitcase down inside. He gave her a quick, assessing glance.

She couldn’t meet his eyes because she couldn’t let him in on what she was planning. If she did, he’d be determined to give her advice, make his opinions known. But tonight she could only deal with her own feelings. Now that she’d found her family, one thing was clear. She would help them, whatever it took.

“What’s running through your head?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” she responded, feeling guilty for ignoring Mason since they’d left the nursing home. She’d spent her time in the car staring out the window, her heart in turmoil.

She hadn’t told Mason very much about her visit with Carolyn. He hadn’t pushed her for more, al though she knew the cop in him wanted to ask.

“Look at me.”

Lisa was vaguely aware of the old attraction stirring between them as their eyes met. The rise and fall of his chest as he held her gaze told her he felt it, too.

“I’m going to order dinner for us. Fried chicken, Caesar salad and baked potato for you.”

She was grateful, not only that he remembered her favorite meal, but that he was willing to assume responsibility for her comfort.

Yet she dared not say that to him. Doing so would bring back old memories of better times.

She couldn’t let herself think of what might have been. Finding her mother had already filled her with regret. All the moments they’d missed, moments of being together, sharing their lives. “That’s so kind of you.”

“What are friends for?” He grinned the familiar grin she remembered so well.

“You should have a hot bath, something to eat and go to bed before you fall asleep standing up.”

“Sounds heavenly, but I have to make a call first.”

“Why?”

“There’s something I haven’t told you about my sister… She’s in jail,” Lisa said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, her energy suddenly spent and her mind weary with everything she’d seen and heard in the past hours.

“What has she been charged with?”

“I have no idea. Sorry for springing this on you, but so much has changed.”

He knelt down in front of Lisa, taking her hands in his warm grip, his smile uneasy. His touch brought forward long-buried memories of other times he’d knelt like this, his eyes filled with desire.

Resisting the urge to follow the memories, her body tensed.

“Which jail?” he asked, his voice calm and reassuring.

Oh, how she needed his calm approach! “I have no idea.”

“But you’d like to see her while you’re here.”

“Yes, as soon as possible.”

“You’ll have to wait until tomorrow at the earliest.”

She nodded. “I’ll feel much better once I’ve talked to her,” she murmured.

“Maybe. Maybe not. But I’ll make some inquiries first thing in the morning…try to determine where she is and if you can visit her,” he said, his doubtful tone raising her determination.

He clearly didn’t understand her feeling of urgency, but if he was going to help her, she had to make him understand.

“Mason, you’ve known all along how my parents behaved when I asked about my biological family. Every time I’d ask questions, I’d end up wishing I hadn’t.”

“Maybe they had good reasons. Think about it. Your parents were kind people who loved you.”

“And I didn’t have the courage to insist that I be allowed to look into my past. I let my parents keep me from my family all those years when I could’ve gotten to know them. And even as an adult, I didn’t go looking for any of my birth family. It was a mistake, and I have to take full responsibility for not searching. I want…no, I need to do everything I can for them.”

“Lisa, I can see how this has affected you, but don’t make any decisions right now. You’ve had a long drive and an emotionally exhausting experience. You should get a handle on the situation before you do anything.”

“My sister’s in jail. What other information do I need?”

“You’re not listening,” he said, his voice edgy. “You don’t have any knowledge of Anne Marie Lewis or her past. What if she’s a hardened criminal? What if she doesn’t want to meet you? What if seeing her puts you at risk—”

“After all the times you accused me of not being a risk-taker, now you’re telling me that visiting my sister could be dangerous. What right—”

“Lisa, let’s not bring our past into this.”

“How can I not? Our past is always between us,” she responded, wishing she could ease the anxiety roaring through her.

But his question had made her wonder. Was she actually ready to visit her sister in jail? One minute she was and the next she wasn’t.

“Well, we can’t do anything about it at this hour,” he said, glancing at his watch as he stood. He started for the door, stopped and turned back. “Do you want me to order food now, or what?”

She wanted him to hold her the way he’d done at the nursing home. She wanted to feel safe and secure. Sure in the belief that all of this would work out for the best.

Was she hoping for the impossible? Maybe. “Would you do me a favor? Could you try to find out tonight where she is and when I can see her?”

“Even if she’s in the local jail, it’s unlikely you could get in on such short notice. That is, if she’s willing to see you,” he muttered.

Lisa took a deep breath to ease the tension snapping through her and felt the flush of exhaustion as it laid claim to her limbs.

As much as she hated to admit it, Mason had a point—at least about the timing—but she refused to consider that Anne Marie might not want to see her. “I’d call myself if I thought they’d listen to me.” She gave him a weary smile. “They’ll listen to you, though.”

His expression relaxed as he tapped his fingers on the door. “I’ll order our food, make a couple of inquiries. I’ll be back here as soon as I can,” he said, opening the door.

“Mason, thank you for everything.”

“Including the argument?”

“Yes,” she sighed, relieved to see a real smile on his face.

“I’ll be back,” he said, closing the door behind him as he left.

Even with Mason gone from the room, his scent lingered, sparking memories of their first trip to New York and the carriage ride through Central Park, his arm protectively around her shoulders as the carriage moved beneath the canopy provided by the trees, the kiss they shared as the driver snapped their picture. She had kept that photo to remind her of that unforgettable evening.

He was her first love, and she’d been totally infatuated. After their breakup, she’d dated the new pediatric oncologist at the hospital, which was a disaster.

Since then, she’d concentrated on her career and developing her skills as a pediatric nurse.

Anything but face the very real possibility that she might never get another chance to put things right with Mason—whether that meant getting back together or becoming friends. Either way, she was at least partly responsible for how their relationship had ended.

A COUPLE OF HOURS later after several phone calls—including one to Peter to say goodnight—Mason sat across from Lisa at the tiny table in her room. The sky outside blazed with the golden pink of the setting sun.

Mason noted Lisa’s excited behavior, her animated conversation, her plans for moving her mother to Durham, and all the while he was relieved that she hadn’t asked about his phone call to the Indian River jail.

Worried about what he had to tell her, he’d decided not to say a word unless she brought it up.

Lisa could be very stubborn, and for his money, she was on a wild-goose chase, but he didn’t want her to get hurt. He hadn’t had much opportunity to show how sorry he was for walking out on her—thanks to the way his life and hers had split apart—but he wished he could redo parts of his past.

Sitting so close—the scent of her reaching out to him—triggered an expectation… Of what, he wasn’t certain.

Lisa’s movements, the way she smothered her baked potato in sour cream, the way she chewed every bite attentively and placed her napkin so neatly beside her plate when she finished were all familiar.

Funny how they were so compatible in their everyday lives, but when it came to the big decisions they had little in common.

Carefully placing her fork and knife on the plate, she rose and set it back on the room-service trolley. “So, what about my sister?” she finally asked, returning to her seat.

He sighed. “Anne Marie is in the Indian River jail. It’s not far from here.”

“Has she been charged?”

He attempted to keep his tone neutral. “I’ve arranged an appointment for ten-thirty tomorrow. You can ask Anne Marie then.”

He’d had to pull a few strings to get Lisa in to see her sister. The prisoner usually decided who visited, but the officer had put Lisa’s name on the list at his insistence. It seemed that Anne Marie Lewis had been uncooperative so far, which didn’t bode well for tomorrow.

“What am I going to do when I go in there?” Lisa asked, her voice uneasy, her eyes dark.

What was she asking? Did she expect to be able to walk into the jail and take Anne Marie home? “You’re going to meet her, maybe arrange to visit her again the following day.”

“I don’t mean that.” She began to pace the narrow room. “I mean, what am I going to say to her? How do I explain who I am? We’re complete strangers. How do I begin the conversation? Hello, my name is Lisa and I’m your long-lost sister?” She suddenly spun around, a triumphant smile on her face. “I’ll start with the photo of her and me.”

“What photo?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. Carolyn—I mean, my mother—had a photo of Anne Marie and me taken in Myrtle Beach when I was eight. Oh, Mason, you’re not going to believe this…”

As she told him the story, her expression held such joy and hope that Mason felt his heart grow heavy. In all the time he’d known Lisa, he’d never seen her so animated, so happy. Her eagerness to take action pleased him; yet a part of him wished he could have made her this happy.

Beyond any doubt, Lisa Clarke had been waiting for this moment of connection with her birth family. If only he’d realized how important it was to her, back when their love had been an unbreakable tie between them.

“Lisa, let’s not rush this. You don’t know any of the circumstances of your sister’s case, but I’ve seen—”

“So many cases like this, right? People in jail.”

“Yeah, I have.”

“Mason, you still haven’t told me why Anne Marie’s there.”

Damn! He didn’t want to tell her, because the implications were too painful. But her tone of voice told him she wouldn’t be put off. “Drug trafficking.”

She stopped pacing. “Oh. No.” Color drained from her face. “Not that. She couldn’t be mixed up in drugs.”

Mason saw the fear in her eyes and knew what had put it there. “This isn’t like your father’s case.” He hoped that was the truth, but there was no way of being certain of anything at this point.

“I’m sure it’s not,” she said firmly.

Her father had nearly died when a drug trafficker decided to settle the score when Jim Clarke won the case against him. Jim Clarke had been shot getting into his car outside the Durham courthouse. When the hospital called Mrs. Clarke, she’d come to the school to pick up Lisa. On the way to the hospital, her mother had been driving so erratically that the police had stopped her and had to drive her the rest of the way. The next few weeks had been incredibly stressful and emotional for Lisa. Her father held on by a thread and her mother had been a hysterical wreck. Eventually her father had recovered, but he had retired from the D.A.’s office and become a stockbroker—a less dangerous occupation.