Adam found himself at a loss for words

Even if she did have amnesia, and even if she did look like Christie, it didn’t mean she was Megan’s mother. Mentally, he noted the differences in the two women. The voice. The clothing. The jewelry. The figure.

“Because you can’t remember who you are does not make you Christie Anderson,” he stated firmly, as much for her sake as for his.

“But I could be,” she said with a spark of hope in her eyes.

“No, you’re not Christie. She died, Faith.” He kept his voice deliberate. “Six months ago, while sailing her small boat. The St. Louis County coroner signed her death certificate.”

“You said they never found her body,” she reminded him.

He didn’t want to believe any of what she suggested could be true, nor did he want to remember that only a few hours ago he’d wondered about the very same possibility.

Dear Reader,

Intrigued by a news story about an amnesia victim, I found myself thinking about the consequences of memory loss. I know how frustrating it can be to forget the smallest of details. I could only imagine what it would be like to wake up and discover that I’d forgotten my entire past. As I thought about how different my life would be if I couldn’t remember the people I love, a story began to take shape in my mind and a heroine was born—Faith Miller.

As you begin this story, you know as much about Faith as I did when I first met her. She is a woman with amnesia, remembering nothing prior to the night she was found on the side of a road with a head injury. The only clue she has to her identity is a bracelet with the letters F-A-I-T-H imprinted on it.

In order to write this book I had to uncover the mystery of her past. Did she have a family? Where was her home? What was her occupation? Did she have a happy childhood? How did she end up on the side of a road?

I’m happy to say I found the answers to all of those questions and many others. And with the help of a bachelor father and his six-year-old daughter, Faith finds them, too. She also discovers the answer to another question that’s very important to her. It’s one even those of us who don’t have amnesia ask. “Where do I belong?”

Because that’s what every romance story is really about—finding that special someone who makes you feel as if you’ve come home.

If you would like to write to me, I love hearing from readers. Send your letters to Pamela Bauer, c/o MFW, P.O. Box 24107, Minneapolis, MN 55424, or you can visit me via the Internet at www.pamelabauer.com.

All the best,

Pamela Bauer

Bachelor Father
Pamela Bauer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For someone who shares my love of books,

my aunt, Opal Ronning, and her real life hero, my uncle Jim.

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 ONE

“ISN’T IT ABOUT TIME for a changing of the guard?”

Faith glanced up to see Dr. Avery Carson walking toward her, his dark wool parka peppered with melting snowflakes. Wearing a plaid woolen cap with earflaps and a pair of clunky rubber boots, he looked more like the guy who plowed the snow from the driveway than a retired doctor.

Faith smiled. “This is a surprise. I didn’t expect to see you here today.”

“I was in the neighborhood and thought I might as well stop in and offer you a ride home. It’s not much fun waiting for a bus in this weather and I find having a pretty girl next to me makes the traffic tolerable,” he said with an endearing grin.

“Is the driving difficult?”

“Only if you’re not used to a Minnesota winter. I’ve been here sixty-eight years. I can navigate through a bit of snow.” He glanced at the baby in her arms. “Who’s that little bundle of joy?”

“Her name is Emma,” Faith said, loving the scent of baby powder that emanated from the infant. “Isn’t she precious? She fell asleep the minute I started rocking her.”

“She certainly looks content in your arms. Will she wake if you put her down?” he asked with a nod toward the row of cribs along one wall.

“I don’t think so, but I’d rather hold her until her parents return.”

“That might not be for a while,” he warned.

“I know. I don’t mind staying. Actually, I was thinking I should stay since one of the other volunteers called in sick.”

“No one will ever accuse you of not putting in a full day,” he remarked.

“Hard work is healthy for the body and soul. Besides, rocking babies isn’t exactly what I would call work.” She glanced again at the angelic face peeking out of the pink blanket.

“I think the hospital is fortunate to have someone so devoted to other people’s children. Anyone who comes through that door can see you’re good with kids.”

His compliment warmed her insides. For two weeks she’d been volunteering in the hospital’s child-care center where there had been a steady stream of infants and toddlers who had sat on her lap in the wooden rocking chair. Most of the hospital staff knew that Faith had a talent for quieting even the unhappiest of visitors. What they didn’t know was that she found comfort in tending to them. It made her feel useful and wanted, but more importantly it gave her an identity—something she needed desperately. As long as she was at the hospital she knew who she was. She was the baby rocker.

“I like kids,” she stated simply.

“And it’s obvious they like you, but you’re still entitled to have some time for yourself at the end of the day,” Dr. Carson said.

Faith could have told him that the one thing she didn’t need was free time. Just the opposite was true. The busier she was, the better she liked it. When her hands were occupied, her mind didn’t have time to dwell on what was missing in her life. It was much easier to rock a fussy baby to sleep or calm a toddler having a temper tantrum than it was to be alone with her thoughts.

“I want to stay,” she insisted. “And Mrs. Carmichael will appreciate having the help. She’s always saying we don’t have enough hands even when we are fully staffed.”

To Faith’s surprise, however, when her supervisor heard her offer she said, “That’s very sweet of you to want to stay, Faith, but I think Dr. Carson’s right. You’ve put in enough hours already today.”

“But you’re short one worker,” she reminded her. “What if it gets busy?”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen—not with the way it’s snowing. You go home and relax,” Mrs. Carmichael ordered her.

Most people would have been happy to hear such words, but not Faith. She didn’t have a place to call home, just a room at the Carsons’. And work was relaxing for her. No matter how welcome the Carsons made her feel, at the end of the day she was still alone in a strange house with only her troubled mind and its unanswered questions.

Carefully Faith got up from the rocker, holding Emma steady so as not to wake her. As she placed the baby in one of the cribs, she felt a shiver of loneliness. She brought her fingertips to her lips, then blew a kiss in the infant’s direction.

Watching her, Dr. Carson said gently, “There will be more babies for you to rock tomorrow.”

Faith nodded, knowing that what he said was true. The child-care center would be open to parents who wanted a place to leave their children while they visited patients in the hospital. Chances are she would be the one taking care of them—if tomorrow began the same way every day of the past three weeks had begun, with her waking up and not knowing who she was.

Although doctors had been successful in treating her physical injuries from her accident, she still hadn’t recovered from the amnesia that was as puzzling to doctors as it was to her. Memory loss due to trauma was not uncommon, but rarely did it include a loss of identity. She’d been told it was a temporary condition and that her memory would either return suddenly or gradually, like pieces of a puzzle falling into place. So far, neither had happened. Her past was a blank canvas and the only life she knew was the one that had started the day Avery and Marie Carson had stopped to help her as she lay unconscious at a roadside rest stop.

From the moment she’d met the doctor and his wife, they had showed her nothing but kindness, taking her into their home, providing her with clothes from a local charity and treating her like the daughter they’d never had. They were good, honest people who hadn’t hesitated to come to her aid when she was desperately in need of help. Faith hoped that if she did have a family somewhere, they would be as generous and as compassionate as the Carsons.

She had to belong somewhere, yet where that someplace was and with whom she shared it remained trapped in a past she couldn’t remember. Even though she hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring when she’d been rescued, she knew she couldn’t rule out the possibility that she had a husband. Or children. That thought always brought an ache to her heart. She didn’t want to think that she could ever forget her own child. Yet until her memory returned, just how much family she did have would remain a mystery.

As she tugged on her winter coat, Mrs. Carmichael mentioned that she had a cart full of children’s books to be taken to the second floor. Faith looked at Dr. Carson and asked, “Would you mind if we dropped them off on our way out?”

“Not at all,” he said with a smile, and held the door for her as she pushed the book cart into the hallway.

Although pediatrics was her favorite unit in the hospital, every time she visited the young patients her throat filled with emotion. This time was no different. As Faith and Dr. Carson made their way through the unit, she noticed a little girl who was being pushed down the long corridor in a hospital bed. When the orderly stopped for a moment to confer with a nurse, Faith found herself staring into an ashen face framed by blond hair. At first she thought she was asleep, but then she saw her eyelids flutter.

Faith automatically smiled, wondering if the girl was even aware of her presence. Slowly the girl’s sleepy eyes opened and stared directly at Faith. They were the color of the blue jays that fed outside the Carsons’ kitchen window every morning, and were trying to focus on Faith’s face. As they did, a hint of a smile parted the parched lips.

“Hello,” Faith said softly.

Small fingers slipped out from beneath the white blanket and reached for Faith who didn’t hesitate to take the delicate hand in hers and gently squeeze it.

“Am I in heaven?” The girl’s voice was barely above a whisper.

Faith exchanged glances with Dr. Carson before looking back at her. “No, you’re in the hospital.”

“And you’re here, too?” The voice remained weak.

“Yes, I work here.”

“Does that mean you can stay with me?” she asked, a ray of hope flickering in her eyes.

“No, I’m sorry I can’t. I’m not a nurse. I work downstairs in the child-care center,” Faith explained. “I rock babies.”

Confusion clouded the blue eyes. “But I want you to stay with me.”

The plea in the tiny voice tugged on Faith’s emotions.

Before she could say another word, the orderly had returned. “Sorry, but we need to get this young lady into her room.” He gave Faith an apologetic look as he returned to the foot of the bed.

“The people here are nice. They’ll take good care of you,” Faith said, but the girl’s lower lip quivered in dismay as Faith released her small hand.

“But I want you to take care of me,” she said in such a pathetic little voice that Faith felt a lump in her throat.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t. You’ll be fine,” she said with a smile of encouragement. Then she put her fingers to her lips and blew her a kiss and was touched when the girl returned the gesture.

As the bed rolled away Dr. Carson said, “You were tempted to go with her, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” Faith admitted. “She looked so frightened.”

“You were able to chase away that fear—at least for a moment or two. You truly have a gift to make children feel better,” Dr. Carson said with a pat on her arm.

His words were of little comfort. She felt as if she’d let this one particular child down. “She wanted me to stay with her.”

This time Dr. Carson put an arm around her and gave her a gentle hug. “Of course she did. She took one look into your eyes and saw compassion and kindness. It’s true what they say, Faith, that the eyes are the window to a person’s soul. The day I met you yours told me there’s not a mean bone in your body. And watching you interact with children, I’m convinced that I read yours correctly.”

She wanted to believe that what he said was true, that when she did finally remember who she was and what was in her past that she would discover that his trust was not misplaced. Yet there were so many unanswered questions running through her mind.

“I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t met you and Marie.” She told him the one thing of which she was certain. “Thank you for believing in me.”

“You make it easy, Faith.”

She forced a weak smile. “I think you’re the kind of person who looks for the good in people. I just hope that someday you don’t discover that…” She trailed off, not wanting to express her fears.

“What? That you’re someone I shouldn’t have trusted?”

“It’s a possibility,” she admitted.

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think it is.”

“But what if…”

Dr. Carson stopped her with a lift of his hand. “We’re not going to talk about the what-ifs. Now let’s get these books to where they’re supposed to be so we can get home. Marie’s got dinner in the oven and we don’t want to be late.”

“I’M LOOKING FOR Megan Novak. She was admitted early this morning,” Adam told the woman at the hospital reception desk. “I’m her father.”

He wondered why it should still feel awkward to identify himself as a parent. Maybe because his relationship with Megan still felt uncomfortable. He hadn’t expected her to rush into his arms and call him Daddy the first time they’d met. After all, she’d been told she didn’t have a father, a fact that still caused the hair on his neck to rise. He’d missed out on six years of Megan’s life because of Christie’s decision not to tell him she’d had his child.

And he knew that if it hadn’t been for a tragedy, chances were he still wouldn’t know he had a daughter. Adam didn’t understand why, after going through so much trouble to keep Megan’s existence a secret, Christie had named him as her legal guardian in the will. He probably would never know, but the reason was of no consequence at this point. What mattered was that Christie had ensured that, in the event of her death, Megan would have someone who was able to take care of her. He was that someone.

While the lawyers had worked out the legal details of guardianship, Megan had stayed in the small town of Silver Bay in the house she’d shared with her mother and her uncle. She’d said very little to Adam when they finally met for the first time, regarding him suspiciously as she clung to Tom Anderson’s side. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him that she would want to live with the uncle she’d known all of her life rather than with a father who was a stranger to her.

There was a lot to like about Tom Anderson. He had that same “live for today” attitude that Adam remembered of Christie, enjoying every minute of life and believing that tomorrow would take care of itself. It was obvious to Adam that he adored Megan and provided a much-needed male authority in her life. What he lacked in reliability he made up for in generosity. He wasn’t, however, her father. No matter how much she wanted to stay in Silver Bay, Megan belonged with him in St. Paul.

“She’s in room 217, Mr. Novak,” the receptionist told him, bringing his thoughts back to the present. “If you go down the hall and take a left, you’ll see the elevators.”

Adam didn’t wait for an elevator but took the stairs. When he reached the second floor he followed the arrows that directed him to the pediatric unit. Standing outside room 217, leaning against the wall was his sister-in-law, Lori. As soon as she noticed him, she straightened and started toward him, her arms outstretched.

“You made it!” she said, hugging him as close as her pregnant belly would allow. “I was worried the snow would close the airport before your plane could land.”

“I got lucky.”

She glanced past his shoulder. “Naomi’s not with you?”

“No. She stayed in Miami.” Which was how he’d wanted it. Not that Naomi Windell would have cut short her vacation for someone else’s sick child. He glanced at the closed door. “Why are you out here?”

“There’s a nurse and a lab technician in with Megan. It should only be a few minutes and we can go back in.”

“How is she?”

“She’s been sleeping ever since she came back from recovery. Have you talked to Dr. Lindgren?”

“Yes. He said the surgery went well.”

She nodded. “That’s what he told me, too. They’re giving her antibiotics, which should take care of the infection, but she’s going to have to stay in the hospital longer than if it had been a simple appendectomy…probably another five to seven days.”

“I don’t suppose she’s going to like that,” he surmised with a lift of one eyebrow.

Lori rolled her eyes. “Not if the way she behaved before surgery is any indication. She cried and begged me to take her home. Not that I blame her. Having an operation is scary enough when you’re an adult—but when you’re only six…” She shrugged helplessly.

“The worst should be over.”

“Yes, and now her daddy’s here.” Lori sighed in relief. “She’s going to be happy to see you.”

Adam hoped she was right. As hard as his sister-in-law had tried to smooth over the rough edges in their relationship, he knew that Megan regarded him as the man she’d been forced to go live with when her mother had died. In the short time she’d been with him, they hadn’t managed to get beyond that. Any affection she had for a father figure still went to her uncle. She treated Adam with a suspicion that at times bordered on indifference.

“Have you called Tom Anderson?” he asked, suddenly remembering the other man.

Lori nodded. “I told him I would keep him posted on what’s happening. He asked if he could talk to her this evening once she was back in her room, but until now she’s been too sedated to do much of anything but sleep.”

“I’m sure she’s going to want to call him as soon as she’s able to use the phone,” Adam noted.

“That probably won’t be before morning. I don’t expect she’ll be awake much tonight.” Lori glanced at her watch and said, “I can’t believe it’s only seven-thirty. It feels much later than that to me.”

“How are you holding up?”

“I’m okay,” she answered, although the circles under her eyes contradicted her. “It’s just the usual complaints of a pregnant lady.” She stretched, rubbing the area near the base of her spine.

“Backache?”

“Everything aches,” she quipped.

He saw the lines on her face and realized how stressful the day had been for her. “When I asked if Megan could stay with you while I was gone I never expected something like this would happen. I’m sorry, Lori. I probably should have just taken her out of school and brought her with me.”

“We both know why that wouldn’t have worked.”

“I wouldn’t have brought Naomi if Megan had come with me.” He didn’t want to sound defensive, but ever since Megan had come to live with him he’d felt as if his personal life were suddenly under a magnifying glass.

Lori raised both hands as if to ward off an argument. “I was happy to have Megan stay with me.”

He knew that was true, but it didn’t make him feel any less guilty about the situation. “I know, but you shouldn’t have had to be the one going through all of this, especially not in your condition.”

She brushed away his concern with a wave of her hand. “Now you’re sounding like Greg. Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I have to sit at home with my feet up. I managed just fine today.”

“I knew you would. Just knowing you were with her was a great comfort to me, although I have to admit, that probably was the longest flight I’ve ever taken.”

“I hope I didn’t sound too frantic when I called you, but honestly, Adam, until that doctor came out of surgery and told me she was going to be all right, I was scared. Really scared.” Her voice broke with emotion and she bit down on her lip.

“Waiting in a situation like this is never easy, is it?” he asked rhetorically. “I’m just glad you brought her to the emergency room when you did. You saved her life, Lori.”

She leaned back against the wall, her shoulders sagging. “I know, but I can’t help but wonder if the infection couldn’t have been prevented if I had only taken her to the doctor last week.”

“She wasn’t having an appendicitis attack last week.”

“No, but last night wasn’t the first time she’s complained of stomachaches, Adam,” she said soberly.

“No, it wasn’t,” he agreed. “She’s had a lot of them—like when she didn’t want to eat her dinner or she didn’t want to go to school. You remember the story about the boy who cried wolf?”

“Yes, but…”

“Lori, she had a physical exam before she started school here and the doctor said she was in good health,” he reminded her, not wanting to admit that the same thought had crossed his mind when he’d learned that Megan’s appendix had ruptured. Images of her rubbing her tummy and telling him it hurt had flashed relentlessly in his head.

“She had none of the other symptoms of appendicitis until this morning,” Lori added, as if trying to convince herself she wasn’t to blame. “It’s not easy to diagnose, even with all of the symptoms.”

“No, it isn’t, as Dr. Lindgren told us. Nor does it do any good to second-guess the situation at this point. Yes, Megan did complain of stomachaches, but she’s complained about a lot of things since she’s been here.” He rubbed a hand around the back of his neck. “Sometimes I feel as if that’s all she does.”

“She’s had a lot to deal with these past few months,” Lori said sympathetically.

“I realize that. I’m also aware of what a huge change it was for her to come live with me. Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn’t have simply accepted the financial responsibility of her care and allowed her to stay with Tom.”

Lori placed her hand on his arm. “No, you are her father. She belongs here with you. I know that it’s been a little difficult for the two of you—”

“A little difficult?” He interrupted with an incredulous chuckle. “She’s been with me for eight weeks and she still calls me Adam.” A clear sign to him that she didn’t want to be with him.

“She’s not used to having a father and you’re not used to having a daughter. It’s going to take time for the two of you to adjust to your relationship.” It was the same argument Lori had used repeatedly for the past few weeks.

Time was the one thing he hadn’t been given. Most men had nine months to prepare for a fatherhood that began with an infant. He’d had to take a crash course that had ended with him being delivered a kindergartner. He’d expected there to be a period of adjustment while the two of them got to know one another. What he hadn’t expected was that after so many weeks he would feel as if he’d failed the first test of fatherhood.

“I’m not sure what else I can do,” he said, feeling frustrated by his efforts. “I’ve given her everything I can think of to make her feel at home with me.”

“Things will get better,” she predicted. “You just have to patient.” She arched her back, again placing a hand at the base of her spine. “I wonder how much longer it’ll be before we can go in? I could use a chair about now.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

She smiled weakly and nodded. “I’m just tired.” She put a hand on her stomach. “And it doesn’t help that your nephew has decided today is the day to practice his soccer kicks.”

“Why don’t you go home?”

She shook her head. “Can’t. I promised Megan I’d be here when she woke up.”

“She’s probably not going to know who is and who isn’t here tonight,” he noted.

Lori glanced apprehensively at the closed door. “I am tired,” she admitted.

“Then do me a favor and leave. On top of all of this I don’t need the wrath of my brother on me. He’s not happy that I made him go to the boat show in the first place, and if he comes home and finds you’ve run yourself ragged while he’s been gone, he’s going to be all over me.”

“It’s a good thing he is there,” she remarked. “Your grandfather can’t really handle a show on his own anymore.”

“I called Bill Grainger and he’s going to fly out first thing in the morning to help in any way he can,” Adam told her.

“That’ll be good.” She placed a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry you had to leave in the middle of the show. I know how excited you were about the Seababy.”

He shrugged. “Things happen.”

Although Adam often oversaw construction at Novak Boats, his first love was design. It was why he was the company’s best spokesperson. He knew every inch on each custom-designed yacht that came out of the factory. Boat shows were the perfect place for him to showcase the cutting-edge technology that had earned him numerous industry awards. This year it was the Seababy, a midsize motor yacht, that was his pride and joy and already the buzz in the boating world.

But then Novak Boats often was at the center of attention in the industry. What his grandfather had founded as a small family business to build pontoons for local lakes had evolved into an internationally known yacht manufacturer creating pleasure cruise boats easily handled at sea. From a single employee to nearly one hundred and fifty, the company had earned its place in the boating world with a reputation envied by many.

Building boats was a passion Adam had discovered at an early age. While some kids went to nursery school, Adam had tagged along with his father to the factory where his grandfather had put him to work fetching tools. He’d learned the art of boat building at the knee of a master, and by the time he went off to college to earn his engineering degree, he knew every aspect of the business, including how to represent Novak Boats at the various shows across the country.

When the door to Megan’s room opened and a lab technician came out carrying a tray of medical supplies, Adam asked, “Is everything okay?”

The woman nodded. “You’ll be able to go in in a few minutes. Her nurse is just finishing up in there.”

“Is she asking for me?” Lori wanted to know.

“Oh, yes. I think she must have said ‘I want my mommy’ at least five times.”

Lori’s startled glance caught Adam’s before she said to the tech, “I’m her aunt. Her mother died last fall.”

The tech grimaced. “Oooh. I’m sorry. I thought…”

Lori shook her head. “It’s okay.”

“It’s probably the medication confusing her,” the tech said with an apologetic shrug, then disappeared down the hall.

The door opened again and this time a nurse stepped out. “You can come in now.”

Adam introduced himself and asked, “How is she?”

“She’s resting comfortably. She was having quite a bit of pain so I gave her something to help her sleep,” the nurse explained. “Mr. Novak, if you’d like to spend the night, we can put a cot for you in her room.”

Lori looked at Adam. “One of us should probably stay in case she wakes up.”

He nodded. “I’ll stay. You go home and get a good night’s sleep.”

“What if she asks for Christie again?”

“I doubt she will.” He dismissed her concern with a shake of his head. “But if she does, I’ll clear things up.” As he watched his sister-in-law walk away, he realized it was a heck of a time for him to hope to improve communications with his daughter. But he would. Somehow. Someway.

CHAPTER TWO

WHAT THE NURSE CALLED a bed was actually a padded vinyl chair that collapsed in the middle so that it resembled a cot. There were times when being six foot three had its advantages. This was not one of them. As Adam tried to stretch out on the makeshift bed, his feet dangled over one end. After a period of tossing and turning in search of a comfortable position, he put the chair back into its original position. It wouldn’t be the first time he would have to sleep sitting upright.

Not that he expected to sleep. He needed darkness and silence. Megan’s hospital room had neither. If there wasn’t some piece of equipment blinking, there was an electronic machine beeping. Then there were the frequent visits by various medical staff.

And, of course, there was Megan herself. She was not a quiet sleeper. Although she wasn’t tossing and turning, she made little sounds that were a cross between a groan and a hiccup. The first time he heard one he thought that she was in distress. He’d jumped up from the chair and called for the nurse who had assured him Megan was not in any danger.

To his surprise he finally was able to get a couple of hours of sleep. When he awoke he discovered someone had pulled the drape around Megan’s bed, separating him from his daughter. Although he couldn’t see the two people on the other side, he could hear them.

“It hurts,” Megan cried.

“I know it does, dear. I’m going to give you some medicine to help make you feel better.”

When the only sound to be heard was Megan’s whimpering, Adam called out, “Is everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine, Mr. Novak,” a woman’s voice answered from the other side of the curtain. “We’re just taking care of some business.”

Then he heard Megan say in a voice that was slightly hoarse, “Is Adam here?”

Adam. Being in the hospital hadn’t suddenly made his daughter want to call him Dad. He wondered if she would ever regard him as her father.

“If you’re referring to your dad, yes, he is here,” Adam heard the nurse say. “He’s been here all night actually, and as soon as I’m finished we’ll open the curtain and you can see him.”

“I’d rather see my mommy. Can you get her for me?”

Adam frowned. It had been almost six months since Christie had drowned. Megan knew her mother had died and gone to heaven, so why was she asking for her now?

The nurse didn’t answer her question about her mother but went on to advise Megan to be very careful and lie still because it was important that she not disturb the bandages on her tummy.

Adam could see nothing but darkness through the sliver of an opening in the window blind. He glanced at his watch. It was five-fifteen. He had a crick in his neck, his clothes were wrinkled and he was in desperate need of a cup of coffee. Thinking he might take a break and find a coffee machine, he was about to ask the nurse how long she’d be with Megan when the drape swung open.

“How is she?” he asked in a low voice.

“She’s still pretty sleepy, but she’s doing much better, aren’t you, Megan?” the nurse said, walking over to write some numbers on a white board hanging on the wall.

Adam moved closer to the bed. Although Megan still looked tiny and frail, her face wasn’t as pasty as it had been when he’d first seen her. The medical equipment surrounding her reminded him, however, that she was one very sick little girl.

“How do you feel?” he asked her, wishing he could do something to make her more comfortable. She reminded him of how she’d looked the first time he’d seen her. It had been in the attorney’s office and she’d stood perfectly still next to the lawyer, as if she were afraid to move a muscle for fear of something horrible happening to her.

“It still hurts,” she replied in a voice that begged for his sympathy. “Lori told me the operation would make me feel better.”

The nurse came back to her bedside. “It doesn’t hurt as badly today as it did yesterday, does it?”

“No.” The response was barely audible.

“Each day it will hurt a little less,” the nurse told her. “Once your tummy heals you’re going to feel as good as new. Now I’m going to leave you so you can get some more sleep.” She checked the IV unit next to the bed, then said, “If you need anything, you know what to do, right?”

“I push the button,” Megan said weakly.

“That’s right.” On her way out, the nurse said to Adam, “I’ll just be down the hall if you need me.”

He nodded. “Is there someplace where I can get a cup of coffee?”

“There’s a lounge near the elevators with vending machines, but at this time of night, the coffee’s pretty strong. You might want to go across the street. There’s a small diner that’s open twenty-four hours.”

Adam thanked her then took the place she’d vacated next to the bed.

Megan glanced at him through half-closed eyes. “Where’s Lori?”

“She’s at home.”

“She said she was going to stay,” Megan said in a voice that was on the verge of tears.

“She wanted to, but she was tired so she went home to get some sleep. She’ll be back in the morning. I’m here if you need anything.” He noticed a cup with a straw in it on the tray table next to her bed. “Would you like a sip of water?”

She shook her head. “Did you come home on an airplane?”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t you like the boat show?”

“Yes, I did, but I wanted to be here with you.” It was the truth. The moment Lori had called with the news that she’d taken Megan to the hospital his first thought was to get home as quickly as possible so he could be with her.

She scrunched up her face. “I feel funny.”

“Funny how?” he wanted to know.

“Like my head’s fuzzy,” she murmured.

“That’s from the medicine. The more you sleep, the less fuzzy you’ll feel.”

“But I don’t want to go to sleep,” she whined. “I want to find her.”

He leaned closer to her. “Who do you want to find?”

“Mommy. She’s here in the hospital, you know. I saw her. When the man was pushing me in my bed.” Megan yawned, her eyelids fluttering as she fought to stay awake.

So that was the reason for her confusion. While she’d been sedated she had seen someone who resembled Christie and mistaken her for her mother. Adam knew he needed to correct her. He couldn’t let her go on believing that she’d really seen her mother, yet he wondered if she would even remember such a conversation tomorrow morning? What she needed was sleep. There would be plenty of time to talk about what she did or didn’t see tomorrow.

“Shhh. Don’t talk now,” he told her. “You need to rest.”

Megan’s voice trembled as she said, “I wish she’d take me home with her.”

Adam felt as if two hands reached right into his chest and squeezed his heart. “You’ll get to go home when you’re feeling better,” he said gently. He took her small hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing the knuckles ever so gently.

“Will Mommy be there?” The question came out on a pathetic little whimper, then before Adam could answer, she had closed her eyes and succumbed to sleep.

It was obvious Megan was still not over the death of her mother. He supposed it shouldn’t have surprised him. She was so young and innocent—too young to have to cope with the loss of a parent. Now the trauma of surgery had been added to her already-confused emotional state. He could only hope that once she recovered from the effects of the anesthetics, she wouldn’t be asking about her mother.

As he watched her sleep, he stared at her face, trying to see why his relatives thought she looked like him. All he saw was a younger version of Christie. With her blond hair, blue eyes and small rounded nose, Megan definitely looked more like an Anderson than a Novak. Lori insisted that she had his smile, but he was reserving an opinion on that one until the space where her tooth was missing had been filled.

His brother, Greg, had pointed out that Megan had several of Adam’s mannerisms, like biting down on her lower lip when she concentrated and wiggling her feet while she slept. He glanced to the end of the bed, knowing that if he watched it long enough, he’d see the blanket twitch. After only a few seconds it did wiggle and he smiled.

Adam thought it was strange that she should have any of his traits considering they’d spent so many years apart. Again he looked at her face, so peaceful in slumber. She had so much potential, so many possibilities ahead of her. From the day he’d first seen her he’d promised himself that he would make up for the years he’d missed in her young life.

And he would. He was going to do his best to protect her from getting hurt again. And he would spend more time with her. Ever since she’d come to live with him he’d been working like a fiend getting ready for the debut of the newest Novak yacht. He’d had little free time to do the fun things that fathers and daughters were supposed to do. But that was going to change. As the sun’s first morning rays slowly appeared through the slits in the window blinds, he pulled out his Palm Pilot to see where he could schedule her in.

AFTER SPENDING THE NIGHT in a chair, Adam needed a shower and a change of clothes. While his sister-in-law kept his daughter company, he took his laptop and went home where he was tempted to grab a few hours of sleep, but chose instead to call his brother in Miami to get a report on the boat show and to take care of several other business matters.

It was after noon when he returned to the hospital. Before going up to see Megan, he stopped at the gift shop in the lobby and bought a bouquet of balloons and a small white bear that had Get Well Soon embroidered inside a pink heart on its chest.

When he walked into Megan’s room, he saw Lori was sitting next to the bed reading her a story. The blinds were open, allowing a stream of sunshine in and Megan’s bed had been raised so that she was no longer lying flat on her back.

“Oooh, what pretty balloons,” Lori cooed when she saw what was in Adam’s hands. “What do you think, Megan?”

“Are they for me?” she asked, a gleam of interest in her eyes.

“They certainly are.” Adam set the bear down next to her on the bed. “Along with this guy, they’re supposed to help you feel better,” he told her, giving her a smile.

As he glanced around for a place to put the balloons, Lori said, “You can probably tie them to the foot rail. That way Megan can see them even if the curtain is drawn around her bed.” She reached for the bear and moved it closer to her niece, tucking it under the covers so that it was beside her. “Isn’t he soft?”

Megan nodded, her small hand closing around the bear and bringing it to her face. “He’s very soft. Thank you,” she said politely.

“You’re welcome. How are you feeling?” he asked, taking the chair on the opposite side of the bed from Lori.

“Okay,” she answered without much enthusiasm.

“Dr. Lindgren was here earlier and said that she should start feeling much better once she’s able to eat,” Lori told him. “She’s going to try some Jell-O for lunch.”

“Yes, I heard. That’s good news,” Adam said.

“And the other good news is that while you were gone, she got up and went to the bathroom,” Lori told him.

“That has to be a good sign,” Adam acknowledged.

“I didn’t like doing my business in that pan,” Megan said with the frankness of a child. She told him several other things she didn’t like about being in the hospital before asking him the one question he didn’t want to hear. “Have you seen Mommy today?”

Lori’s eyes met his and she shrugged helplessly. He sat down in the chair next to the bed and said, “Megan, you know we can’t see her. She’s in heaven.”

“Not anymore she isn’t. She came back,” Megan said in a small voice. “Will you find her for me?”

He leaned closer to her. “I can’t do that because she’s not here.”

She licked her lips with her tongue before saying, “But I saw her yesterday when I was getting a ride in my bed.”

“You mean you saw someone who looked like her,” he corrected her.

“Uh-uh. I saw her,” she told him.

Adam reached for her hand and clasped it within his. “We’ve talked about this before, Megan. From time to time you’re going to see women with blond hair and blue eyes who remind you of your mother. That’s only natural. You loved her very much and you miss her.”

“But this lady was my mommy,” she insisted.

“No, she wasn’t,” he said gently, but firmly.

She pulled her hand away. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.” It was an accusation accompanied by a look that reminded Adam of all that was wrong in their relationship.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you. I think you’re confused because you saw someone who looks like your mother,” he said.

“It was her,” she stated as emphatically as she could considering she had very little strength. “She smiled at me and she blew me a kiss. Mommy always did this when she said goodbye.” She raised two fingers to her lips, then held them up in the air as if sending a kiss his way.

“Lots of people blow kisses, Megan.”

“It was my mommy,” she stated. Her gaze shot to Lori. “You believe me, right?”

Lori sighed. “Oh, sweetie, it’s not a question of believing you. I’m sure the woman you saw looked a lot like your mom….”

Realizing neither of them thought she’d seen her mother, Megan couldn’t stop her lip from quivering and the tears from falling. Pain tightened Adam’s chest.

“It’s only natural that you’d be thinking about her while you’re here in the hospital,” he said. “She used to comfort you when you were sick, remember?”

Megan nodded. “Sometimes she’d climb into bed with me to keep me warm.” She hiccupped as she struggled not to sob. “She could make my tummyaches go away without having to have an operation.”

“I know.” He brushed a stray blond hair away from her cheek. “Unfortunately your mommy’s not here. She’s in heaven.”

“Maybe she came back.”

The hope in her eyes had the same effect on him as a punch in the stomach. “People don’t come back from heaven, Megan. Once you go there, you stay there forever.”

“But you came back,” she told him.

Adam exchanged glances with Lori before saying, “No, I didn’t. I was never in heaven.”

“Mommy said you were.”

Again he caught Lori’s glance and it was filled with empathy.

“Well, your mommy made a mistake. She only thought I’d gone to heaven,” he explained, trying not to feel frustrated with something over which he’d had no control.

“Maybe you made a mistake and Mommy didn’t really go to heaven, either,” she argued.

His anger with Christie for keeping Megan’s existence from him surfaced. He could only imagine how different things would be this very moment if instead of disappearing from his life, Christie had told him she was pregnant with his child.

“Other people believe your mommy’s in heaven, too,” Lori said. “Even your uncle Tom knows she’s there.”

“Maybe he made a mistake, too,” Megan countered innocently.

Adam could see that he was accomplishing nothing by trying to convince her she hadn’t seen her mother. If there was one thing he’d learned in the short time he’d known his daughter it was that once she had her mind made up about something, she wasn’t about to change it. He could see this was one of those times.

“Tell me why you think she’s here in the hospital, Megan,” he said patiently.

“When I saw her she told me she works here. She rocks the babies,” she answered.

“She told you that?” he asked, wondering if there actually was an employee who rocked babies.

“Yes. In the child-care center.”

He looked at Lori who said, “It’s on the first floor.”

He thought for a long moment before getting to his feet. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll go downstairs and look for this woman so we can find out what her name is.”

“I know what her name is. She’s my mommy.” Megan’s voice sounded weary, reminding Adam that she had a long recovery ahead of her.

Lori raised a finger to her lips. “Shh. Don’t talk, just rest. Let your dad go and see if he can find her.”

Adam glanced down at his daughter. “I’ll be back as soon as I’ve talked to her, okay?”

Megan’s response was a satisfied grin. On any other occasion it would have made him happy. Today it only made him anxious.

Lori looked at Adam. “I’ll walk with you to the elevators.” As soon as they were in the hallway she said, “I’m worried about her, Adam. She really does believe that she saw Christie.”

“I know. Last night I thought it was simply the medication, but she’s lucid today and she’s still asking for her,” he said as they walked toward the bank of elevators at the end of the corridor.

“She thinks people can come back from heaven,” Lori said on a sigh.

“Yes, and we know why.” He found it difficult to hold back his frustration with Megan’s mother. “All of this could have been avoided if Christie had simply allowed me to be Megan’s father from day one.” Impatiently he raked a hand through his hair. “I still don’t know why she never told me she was pregnant.”

“You said it was a one-night stand, Adam,” she reminded him, as if that explained Christie’s behavior.

“That didn’t give her the right to keep Megan’s existence from me,” he argued. “I may not have been the most mature guy seven years ago, but I wouldn’t have turned my back on my own daughter.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” his sister-in-law said in a tone definitely meant to appease him.

Lori had been married to his brother long enough to know that he had strong family values. She’d also seen enough women come and go in his life to know that making a commitment to one wasn’t a priority in his life. Although she rarely commented on his personal relationships, he knew that she hoped that marriage and a family would be in his future. One of the reasons they got along as well as they did was because they had an unspoken agreement between them. He didn’t interfere in his brother’s marriage and she respected his privacy when it came to his love life. Now that he had Megan, he could see she was finding it difficult to honor her end of the agreement.

They’d reached the elevators and stood facing each other. “It does no good to wonder what might have been,” Lori told him. “We need to get this resolved and soon. Megan can’t go on thinking her mother’s come back from the dead.”

Adam pressed the call button. “It will be resolved. If this woman she’s mistaken for Christie works in the child-care center, I’ll find her. Will you stay with Megan until I get back?”

“Of course. I do have a doctor appointment later this afternoon, though.”

He nodded. “This shouldn’t take long.”

An elevator car arrived and he stepped inside. As the doors slid shut, he tried not to think about how fragile and vulnerable Megan had looked as she’d asked about her mother. He’d wanted to take her in his arms and tell her that nothing would ever harm her as long as he was around.

He hadn’t. And not just because of the hospital equipment connected to her. She had given him no reason to believe that she wanted him to be her father. If anything, she’d shown him in a hundred different ways that she didn’t regard him as her parent.

She wanted a mother, not a father. It’s why she preferred to be with Lori rather than with him. He wondered if it also wasn’t the reason why she wanted so badly to believe that she’d seen Christie in the hospital.

He tried not to feel as if he’d flunked another fatherhood test, but after six weeks of being a parent, he’d made very little progress in earning her trust and love. That had to change. How it would happen, he wasn’t sure, but he knew it had to start with finding the baby rocker.

“THERE WAS A MAN looking for you while you were at lunch,” Mrs. Carmichael told Faith when she came back to work after her break.

She frowned. “What did he want?”

“He said he wanted to thank you for being kind to his daughter.”

“Did you tell him I was just doing my job?” she asked, pulling on the blue and green smock all hospital volunteers wore.

“Oh, he didn’t leave his daughter here at the center. She’s a patient on the second floor.” Her supervisor pulled a slip of paper from her pocket. “A little girl named Megan Novak.”

The name didn’t ring a bell. “Are you sure he wanted me? I don’t remember meeting anyone by that name.”

“He asked specifically for the woman who rocks the babies, and even described you as having blond hair and blue eyes,” Mrs. Carmichael answered. “I told him I’d pass on his thanks but if he wanted to do it himself in person he could come back this afternoon.”

Puzzled, Faith shook her head. “He must have me confused with someone else.”

“I know you like to visit the kids in pediatrics. Maybe it’s someone you met while you were there?”

“It could be, but I don’t remember anyone named Megan.”

The older woman shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry about it. If he comes in, it will all get straightened out.”

Faith didn’t give it another thought but went back to work. She had just finished buttoning her smock when a little boy arrived at the center. He was a two-year-old named Isaac who didn’t want to be separated from his mother. Unfortunately, his father was a patient on the fourth floor and his mother wanted to visit him.

It wasn’t the first time Faith had to calm a kicking and screaming child who thought a temper tantrum would bring his mother back to the nursery. With a patience that had earned her the nickname “the peacemaker” from another of her co-workers, Faith waited until he had vented his frustration before attempting to take him on her lap. Eventually he saw that no amount of ranting was going to bring his mother back. Faith spoke to him in a gentle tone, urging him to sit with her in the rocker. Within minutes she had rocked him to sleep.

“Do I dare talk or will he wake up?” The voice was almost a whisper.

She glanced up and saw a tall man with dark hair and even darker eyes looking at her. He wore a pair of corduroy slacks and a tweed sweater. Although he was at least a foot away from her, she felt as if he had invaded her space. So intimidating was his presence. Her heart-beat increased. For the first time since her accident, someone was looking at her with a familiar glint in his eye.

The fact that it was such an attractive man caused her stomach to do a flip-flop, as well. She glanced at the boy on her lap. “I think this one can sleep through just about anything. Can I help you with something?”

He glanced at her name tag. “You’re Faith, the baby rocker, right?”

“Yes, I am.” When he continued to stare at her without saying a word she asked, “Do I know you?” Her mouth went dry at the possibility and every nerve in her body tensed as she waited for his answer. He hesitated, staring at her the way the toddlers in her care often examined the wooden puzzles on the table—with both fascination and uncertainty.

When he said, “You don’t recognize me?” her heartbeat quickened.

She shook her head. “Should I?” It was obvious from the way he was staring at her that he thought she should. Hope mushroomed inside her that she might finally learn her identity. Ever since her accident she’d been anticipating the day when someone would recognize her. She wondered if this man was that someone.

Then he said, “No, we haven’t met. I’m Adam Novak. Megan’s father.”

The man who’d come looking for her to thank her for being kind to his daughter. Just as quickly as it had surfaced, the hope disappeared. Faith did her best to hide her disappointment, but her voice was subdued when she said, “I’m sorry, but I don’t know who Megan is.”

“She’s six years old. Blond hair. Blue eyes. A couple of days ago she had surgery,” he explained. “While they were moving her to her room on the second floor, she must have seen you. She said you talked to her and told her you rock babies here in the nursery.”

The memory of the frightened little girl came to her and made Faith’s voice soften with concern. “That was your daughter?”

He nodded. “I don’t know what you said to her, but she’s been talking about you ever since.”

Something in his tone gave her the impression he wasn’t exactly pleased about that, despite his cordial smile. “Sometimes with children all that’s necessary is a smile,” she told him, wishing he’d leave, but he lingered, his hands in his pockets as he stood next to the rocking chair, his gaze intense. “How is she feeling? Is she going to be all right?” Faith asked.

“She’s slowly improving,” he answered. Even though he’d told her he didn’t know her, he continued to stare at her as if she were of particular interest to him.

Faith could feel her face warming under his scrutiny and was grateful when out of the corner of her eye she noticed Isaac’s mother had come back to the day-care center. “I’m glad to hear she’s getting better. You’ll have to excuse me. It looks as if this little guy’s mother has come to pick him up.” She looked past his shoulder and smiled at the woman walking toward them, hoping he would take the hint and leave.

“I understand,” he said with a glance over his shoulder at the approaching woman. “I just wanted to say thank you for what you did for Megan.”

“No thanks are necessary,” she told him.

He smiled then, an incredibly sexy grin that made Faith feel funny in places she didn’t know existed inside her. “Goodbye, Faith, the baby rocker.”

“Bye,” she mumbled, then turned her attention to Isaac’s mother, hoping he would leave without saying another word to her. He did and she felt a pent-up stream of tension ease from her muscles. She hoped it was the last she’d see of him. Being in his presence was like something she’d never experienced before. For a brief moment she’d felt a longing inside her that made her wonder what it would be like if Adam Novak were to take her in his arms and kiss her. She didn’t want to have such feelings. They didn’t seem right. Not now, when she didn’t even know her own name.

Goodbye, Faith, the baby rocker. Long after he was gone she heard his deep voice echoing those words in her head, and each time they sent a tiny shiver of pleasure through her.

CHAPTER THREE

ADAM KNEW WHY Megan wanted to believe Faith was her mother. If he didn’t know better he might have mistaken the child-care worker for Christie, too.

But he did know better. Unlike his daughter, Adam was certain that when people died and went to heaven, they didn’t come back.

Christie had drowned in Lake Superior last September. An eyewitness had seen her small sailboat capsize in a storm, sending its lone occupant into the lake. The Coast Guard had been summoned to the scene but rescue attempts had failed.

Anyone who lived near Lake Superior knew that because of the temperature of the water, there was little hope of surviving such an accident. That hadn’t stopped Christie’s brother, a professional diver, from looking for her. It hadn’t taken him long to realize that he wasn’t going to find her. Tom Anderson, like the other residents of the small town of Silver Bay, knew that very few bodies were ever recovered from the huge body of water. It was too deep and too cold and the great lake had a history of not giving up its dead. Megan’s mother was one of them. Although her body had never surfaced from the icy waters of the lake, the authorities had declared her legally dead.

As Adam stood outside the child-care center looking in at Faith, the baby rocker, he had to remind himself of that fact. Although she wore a hospital smock and plain black slacks, with the right clothes and makeup he thought she could easily pass for Christie. He doubted, however, that a woman who rocked babies during the day in a hospital nursery would strip off her clothes at a nightclub after dark.

He watched as she said goodbye to one child and welcomed another. She led her newest responsibility to a child-size table where she set him on a chair, then knelt beside him, encouraging him to build a tower of wood blocks. For every one square she added to the pile, he tossed another onto the floor and every time she’d bend over to pick up a block, her blond hair would fall like a curtain of silk across her cheek.

Adam felt something stir inside him. Like Christie, she had a look about her few men wouldn’t notice. It was uncanny just how much of a resemblance she had to Megan’s mother. So much of one that when he’d first seen her, his breath had caught in his throat. He knew he’d made her uncomfortable staring at her the way he had, but he hadn’t been able to help himself. He debated whether he should go back inside and explain the reason for his interest in her.

He decided against it. He needed to talk to his daughter, and there was no point in putting off the inevitable. He needed to go back upstairs and tell Megan that the woman she’d seen yesterday was not her mother.

For once in his life he found himself wishing that miracles could happen and the impossible would come true. He could think of nothing more satisfying than being able to tell her that he’d been wrong—that her mother hadn’t drowned. She was alive and well and right here in this hospital. The past six months had been just one big, nasty nightmare. It was the one thing he could tell his daughter that would for certain put a smile on her face.

He knew he was being fanciful to even allow such thoughts. Megan needed him to be a parent even if it meant he had to tell her what she didn’t want to hear.

Adam sighed. It seemed as if every day brought a new challenge to him as a father. Just when he thought he’d crossed the last of the major hurdles, another one always managed to pop up in the middle of the road. Never would he have expected he would be having a conversation with his daughter about her mother’s reincarnation. But then he’d been unprepared for so many of the things that had happened between the two of them, it really shouldn’t have come as that big of a surprise.

Reluctantly he turned away from the window and headed back to Megan’s room.

“HAS IT BEEN BUSY?” Zoe, a college student who worked the evening shift, asked Faith when she arrived at the child-care center.

“It hasn’t been too bad,” Faith told her replacement as she wiped down the wood slats of a crib.

“Who’s the guy in with Mrs. Carmichael?” the young girl wanted to know.

Faith turned around to glance at the office and saw Adam Novak leaning over Mrs. Carmichael’s desk. She wondered why he had come back.

“I think his daughter’s a patient here.” Faith returned her attention to scrubbing the crib, not wanting the other woman to suspect she had any interest in the conversation taking place in the office.

“He’s hot, isn’t he?” Zoe asked.

Faith mumbled, “I wouldn’t know,” which wasn’t exactly the truth. She knew very well that he was attractive. It’s why she’d had a funny feeling in her stomach when he’d stared at her earlier that afternoon.

“He’s probably married,” the other girl surmised. “Most good-looking guys are.”

Faith didn’t comment, not wanting to admit that she had wondered about his marital status, too. Since he’d left the child-care center earlier that day, she’d wondered about quite a few things about him, none of them she wanted to share with her co-worker.

To her relief, Zoe changed the subject. “How come you’re doing Gina’s job? I thought it was her week to wash the cribs.”

“It is, but I had some extra time so I thought I’d do it.”

When a mother arrived with a little girl, Zoe was forced to give them her attention. Faith emptied her bucket and was about to take off her smock and go home for the day when she heard Mrs. Carmichael call her into her office.

“Mr. Novak would like to speak to you for a few minutes,” she said when Faith paused in the doorway. Mrs. Carmichael gestured for her to enter the small room. “You can talk here,” she said before pulling the door shut on her way out.

Adam Novak stood next to the desk, looking every bit as attractive as he had earlier that day. Faith knew that Zoe was dead-on with her description of him when she’d called him hot. Just the way he looked at her could make her skin warm. Her heart began to beat faster and she clasped her hands together so they wouldn’t reveal her nervousness.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m here,” he began, his gaze not as intense as it had been the first time they’d spoken, yet it had the power to send a shiver through her.

“Why are you here?” Once again, the way he looked at her created all sorts of funny sensations inside her. She nervously moistened her lips with her tongue.

“You like children, don’t you.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Of course. I wouldn’t be much help around here if I didn’t,” she answered with a weak smile.

He returned her smile with a grin that sent a tingling through her. “That’s why I came back. Because you like children and I have a pretty good idea that if you knew there was something you could do to help one, you’d do it. Am I right?”

“Yes.” She eyed him warily. “Mr. Novak, if you want me to visit Megan, all you have to do is ask.”

“There are circumstances that might make it a little awkward,” he said, his eyes still holding hers.

“I often visit the pediatrics unit to read to the patients. This is a hospital, Mr. Novak. I see children with all kinds of illnesses. It won’t be uncomfortable for me. If I can cheer Megan by visiting her, I’d be happy to do so.”

“Her physical condition is not the reason I think it could be awkward for you,” he told her.

“Then what is the reason?”

He took a deep breath, ran a hand over his dark head, then propped a hip on the corner of the desk. “I need to tell you a little about Megan. Maybe you want to sit down.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m fine, thank you.”

He shrugged. “Megan lost her mother last fall. She drowned in a boating accident.”

Faith’s chest tightened. “I’m so sorry. It must have been horrible for both of you.”

“Yes, it was. Losing a parent at such a young age is traumatic. It’s very difficult for a six-year-old to comprehend the concept of death. She had so many questions. I thought I’d answered all of them, but…” He trailed off with a shake of his head.

“I’m sure you did the best you could,” Faith said.

Grimacing, he admitted, “I’m afraid my best wasn’t good enough.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because no matter how many times I explain that once a person dies and goes to heaven that person cannot come home again, Megan doesn’t believe me.”

“She thinks her mother’s going to come back?” Faith asked in dismay.

“It’s worse. She believes she’s seen her.”

Emotion rose in her throat. “That is very sad.”

“Sad, but true. After surgery when they were moving her from recovery to her room, she saw a woman she believes is her mother.” He looked her straight in the eye and said, “You.”

“Me?” Faith was so startled that she was surprised she could say anything at all.

“Yes, and I can understand her mistake. You do look like Christie.”

Faith gasped. “That’s why you were staring at me? Because I reminded you of your dead wife?” She hated the frantic tone that had come into her voice, but at the moment she was feeling far from calm.

“Yes, you look very much like Megan’s mother,” he said quietly.

“You said she drowned.”

He nodded soberly. “In Lake Superior.” A shadow passed over his face. “That’s what makes this difficult for Megan to understand. They never recovered her mother’s body and for months after her death she believed it was all a mistake.” He continued to talk about the period of adjustment Megan was going through, but Faith had a hard time concentrating on what he was saying. There was only one thought going through her head. They never found her body.

Faith swallowed with difficulty. It couldn’t be. It was too bizarre to even contemplate. She couldn’t be this Christie person whom everyone thought was dead. Lake Superior was over three hours away. What would she have been doing on the side of the road in southern Minnesota if she lived on the North Shore?

“So that’s why I need you to visit Megan,” he said, unaware of the turmoil going on inside her.

With her skin becoming clammy and her heart pounding in her chest she said, “You want me to tell her I’m not her mother?”

“Yes. It’s the only way she’s going to accept that her mother is gone. She won’t listen to me.”

“But you’re her father.” Her legs grew weak beneath her and she reached for the desk to steady herself. “Surely she trusts you to tell her the truth?”

“It’s been a while since I saw her mother.”

She frowned. “But you do remember what she looked like?”

“Yes. She looked very much like you.”

The room began to spin and Adam’s voice grew fainter in her ears.

“That’s why I stared at you the way I did earlier this morning. For a moment, I thought you were Christie. I…”

Faith didn’t hear the rest of what he said because she was falling into darkness.

As she gradually regained consciousness, she heard a man’s voice calling her name. When she opened her eyes, Adam Novak and Mrs. Carmichael were at her side looking very anxious.

“Do you think we should take her to the E.R.?” the older woman asked Adam.

“No, I think she’s coming around,” he answered.

Faith’s first attempt at speaking resulted in silence. She wanted to tell them she was okay, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get the words out.

“I’ll get a glass of water,” Mrs. Carmichael said before disappearing from the room.

As Faith tried to raise herself up, Adam lent her his arm. He felt solid and steady as she used it as a lever.

“Take it slow,” he warned, sliding his other arm around her.

She was tempted to sink back against him. He smelled good—like the forest after a rain—and he was looking at her as if she were a delicate piece of china that might break. A pleasant sensation rippled through her as she caught the look in his eyes.

“I’m okay,” she said, scrambling to her feet and away from his touch.

“You’d better sit for a few minutes,” he said, pushing a chair toward her.

Her legs still wobbly, she did as he suggested. When he hovered over her she said, “You don’t need to worry. I’m not going to do that again.”

“Maybe you should go to the E.R. and have a doctor look at you,” he suggested.

“I live with a doctor. I’ll tell him about it when I get home,” she told him, straightening her smock.

“How are you getting home? I don’t think you should travel alone.”

“I’ll be fine.” She wished he’d quit looking at her with those dark eyes of his.

Mrs. Carmichael returned with a glass of water, which Faith downed in one gulp.

“I don’t think you should go home unescorted.” Mrs. Carmichael echoed what Adam had said. “I’m going to call Dr. Carson to come pick you up.”

Faith didn’t protest, thinking it might be a good idea to talk to the doctor about what she’d just learned. While Mrs. Carmichael was on the phone, she turned to Adam.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I should visit Megan just yet,” she told him.

“No, of course not. You need to go home and take care of yourself. I would like to get this all taken care of before much longer, however. We need to put a stop to this fantasy she has that you’re her mother.”

She shook her head. “That might not be possible.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

Faith took a deep breath and said, “Because there’s a possibility I am her mother.”

ADAM STARED AT FAITH in disbelief. Either she hadn’t heard a word he had said or she truly was ill. He looked at her pale cheeks and her troubled eyes. “I think maybe you should get checked out in the E.R.”

“I told you I’m okay,” she insisted.

“Do you realize what you just said?”

She nodded. “I think I might be this Christie person.”

“No, you most definitely are not,” he stated emphatically. She didn’t look confused and he found his patience dwindling. “Are you playing some kind of game with me?”

“No. I’m just trying to tell you the truth.” There was a vulnerability about her that made it difficult for him to be suspicious of her, yet he didn’t understand what she was hoping to accomplish by saying that she might be Megan’s mother.

He reached for the other chair in the office and sat down in front of her. “Tell me why you would make such a statement.”

“A little over three weeks ago a doctor and his wife were traveling along Highway 52 just south of the cities when they saw me lying on the side of the road. I was unconscious and looked as if I’d been beaten,” she began. “Thanks to the kindness of Dr. Carson and his wife and the excellent medical attention I received, I regained consciousness and most of my injuries are healed. My hair covers the scar on my scalp.” She removed her smock and pushed back the sleeves of her shirt to show him her arms. “These are almost gone now, but you can still see where I was bruised.”

A shudder echoed through him at the sight of the areas of discoloration. It angered him to think that someone had assaulted her and left her to die on a roadside.

“I’m sorry. I hope they caught who did this to you.”

She shook her head and he felt a rush of emotion at the injustice. As she lowered her sleeves, he realized that there was another significant difference between her and Christie. Faith had larger breasts.

When she noticed where his eyes were focused she blushed. That was something Christie wouldn’t have done. As an exotic dancer she’d enjoyed the looks men cast her way.

Not wanting to make Faith uncomfortable, he asked, “Do you have any permanent damage?”

“One part of me didn’t recover,” she said. “For some reason—they think either a blow to my head or some other trauma—I’ve forgotten everything that happened prior to that night.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you saying you have amnesia?”

“The doctors say it’s retrograde, meaning I can’t remember anything of my past that took place before the accident, but I do remember everything that has happened since then,” she explained. “So what I was doing or where I was living…” She shrugged. “I just don’t know what that was…or where I was…or with whom.”

Adam found himself at a loss for words. He stared at her, thinking that she was putting two and two together and coming up with five. Even if she did have amnesia and even if she did look like Christie, it didn’t mean she was Megan’s mother. Mentally he noted the differences in the two women. The voice. The clothing. The jewelry. The figure.

“Because you can’t remember who you are does not make you Christie Anderson,” he stated firmly, as much for her sake as for his.

“But I could be,” she said with a spark of hope in her eyes.

“No, you’re not Christie. She died, Faith.” He kept his voice firm and deliberate. “Six months ago while sailing her small boat. The St. Louis County coroner signed her death certificate.”

“You said they never found her body,” she reminded him.

“Because they don’t find any bodies in Lake Superior.” His voice rose as his frustration increased. He didn’t want to believe any of what she suggested could be true, nor did he want to remember that only a few hours ago he’d wondered about the very same possibility.

“But you have to admit that theoretically speaking, she could be alive,” Faith persisted.

“I don’t want to speak theoretically.” He was a man who worked with facts and figures. His world was concrete. “It isn’t good enough for my daughter. Theories could break her heart so badly that I’m not sure the damage could ever be repaired. Until we sort this out, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t see Megan.”

“I don’t want to hurt Megan, but you can’t expect me not to be curious about my identity. Until today, not a single person has recognized me. You’re the first one who has said I remind him of somebody else.”

“You do look like someone I once knew, but there’s a difference between resembling someone and actually being that person,” he argued.

She cocked her head to one side. “You said you hadn’t seen Christie in a while. Can you honestly look at me and be one-hundred-percent positive I’m not her?”

He wanted to say yes, but the truth was, he did have a nagging sliver of doubt. He didn’t want it to be there, but it was. It was why he said, “I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’ll contact the attorneys who handled Christie’s estate and get their advice on this matter. Does that sound fair to you?”

She nodded. “It won’t take long?”

“No. I’ll do it today.”

“All right,” she said, getting to her feet. “I’d better get my coat. Dr. Carson should be here any minute.”

He nodded. “Before you go, can I ask you a couple of quick questions?”

She shrugged. “Sure.”

“How do you know your name is Faith if you can’t remember who you are?”

“The night I was found I had no identification on me, only a braided leather bracelet with the name Faith on it.” She pulled back the cuff of her sleeve and showed him her wrist. Hand painted in pink were the letters F-A-I-T-H. “Everyone assumed it’s my name.”

“It could have religious significance,” he suggested.

She ran a finger over the narrow band of leather. “It could, but it’s a lovely name, don’t you think?”

She looked up shyly at him with those blue eyes and he was charmed by her innocence. “Yes, it’s lovely,” he answered, thinking more of her face than her name.

“You have another question?”

“How is it that you ended up working here at the hospital?”

“The doctor who found me on the side of the road used to be on staff here. He suggested I do volunteer work until my memory returns. I earn my room and board by helping his wife out around the house.”

“I see. Then you don’t know what your occupation is?”

She shook her head. “What did Christie do for a living?”

“She was a dancer.” He didn’t think she needed to know about the exotic part. At least not yet.

She thought for a moment, her eyes narrowing and her lips pursing. Then she said, “I don’t think I know how to dance.”

He looked her up and down one more time and thought he’d like to see her try.

AS HE HAD the previous night, Adam decided to sleep at the hospital in Megan’s room. Not that he expected to get much rest. They’d wheeled in the same uncomfortable convertible chair he’d used the night before and Megan still had a monitor next to her bed beeping intermittently.

However, it wasn’t his physical discomfort or the hospital distractions that kept him awake. It was the relentless stream of thoughts racing through his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about Faith and the startling information she’d told him.

As soon as he’d arrived at home he’d pulled out Megan’s photo albums to see how closely Faith resembled Christie. As much as he wanted to say they weren’t the same person, the snapshots of Megan’s mother could have been pictures of Faith.

It was too preposterous to even contemplate that the two women were one and the same, yet it was exactly what he did think about as he tried to get to sleep. All the logic in the world couldn’t keep him from concocting the most absurd reasons for Christie to have faked her own death and disappeared from the lives of those she loved.

It didn’t matter that as soon as he’d left the day-care center he had phoned the attorney who had handled Christie’s estate and had been told the chances of her surviving the drowning were slim to none. Everything the lawyer said should have convinced Adam that Faith wasn’t Megan’s mother. It should have, but it didn’t because Adam had seen and spoken to Faith. The attorney hadn’t.

“If this woman has only had amnesia for the past few weeks, how could she be Christie?” the lawyer had asked. “The accident happened last September. Where would she have been for over five months and why wouldn’t she have contacted Megan?”

Adam could have given him one of the farfetched scenarios he had come up with, but he knew he would only sound like someone who’d watched one too many B movies. Besides, they were rhetorical questions that the lawyer didn’t expect Adam to answer.

“Everyone in town knew Christie loved Megan,” the attorney had reasoned. “It would take a lot for you to convince me she would ever abandon her own daughter. She wasn’t that kind of person.”

Adam wished he could state with the same confidence as the attorney that he knew what Christie would or wouldn’t have done, but the truth was he hadn’t spent enough time with her to get to know her at all. They’d spent one night together. Less than twelve hours. It had been enough time to make a baby, but not enough time to discover who she was. Most of what he knew he’d learned after her death from a lawyer and a six-year-old.

His thoughts returned to the night they’d met. He’d followed her out of the bachelor party calling after her, “Hey, it’s a great night for a cruise down the St. Croix. I’ve got a yacht if you want to go.”

That had raised an eyebrow on her pretty face. “A yacht?”

She hadn’t believed him, but then why would she? Not many college students had a boat moored at Marine on St. Croix. “I designed it myself,” he’d boasted, then had proceeded to use the same words he’d heard his grandfather use to lure customers at boat shows.

It had worked. She’d said she would go with him to see his boat on one condition—that they take her car. He hadn’t argued and within minutes they’d been on their way to the marina.

Once there, he discovered she knew more about boats than any other woman he’d dated. That was because she’d grown up in the small town of Silver Bay on Lake Superior where her father had been the captain of an iron-ore freighter and her brother had been in the merchant marine. She’d told him that she planned to return to the North Shore once she got her life back on track. Adam had wanted to know why it had gone off track, but she’d said it wasn’t important how it happened. All that mattered was that she was now going in the right direction.

When he’d questioned whether stripping was the right direction, she’d told him that it was the best way to make a lot of money in a short amount of time. “Not all of us are born with a silver spoon in our mouths,” she’d said in a derisive tone.

Then he’d been the one on the defensive, making sure that she knew he wasn’t some rich kid who’d taken her to his father’s yacht. He’d given her a brief history of Novak Boats, emphasizing that it was only because of hard work and long hours that it was a success.

He’d never had a problem charming women and this time was no different. She’d spent the night with him and the following morning he’d awakened with a hangover and the realization that he was alone on the yacht. She’d gone, leaving nothing behind except a small scrap of paper with her phone number on it.

He hadn’t called her. After his friend’s wedding, he’d left for a summer internship in California and gotten busy with life. He hadn’t thought of Christie again, until the lawyer had called with the news that she’d named him as Megan’s guardian in her will.

They were memories Adam thought he had buried in the back of his mind. He’d brought them out briefly when he’d learned of Christie’s death, but he’d had no trouble returning them to their rightful place. Now that he’d met Faith, they’d resurfaced again and were refusing to be put away.

And he doubted he would be able to put them back in their place until he had proof that Christie and Faith were not the same person. For his peace of mind as well as his daughter’s, he needed to know the truth. The attorney said there were two alternatives he could pursue. One was to contact Christie’s brother, Tom, and have him come to St. Paul and meet Faith. Unfortunately Megan’s uncle had been called out of town and would be gone for at least six weeks, so Adam knew he would have to use the second method. A DNA test.

Adam was familiar with DNA testing. When he’d been notified that he was Megan’s father, his own attorney had recommended he be tested to make sure what Christie had stated in her will was true, that he was Megan’s father. His DNA had been a match.

Now a lab test could be used to see if Faith was Christie—and Megan’s mother. With a simple swab of the inside of a cheek the relationship between a child and her parents could either be established or denied. All Adam had to do was convince Faith to take the test and wait three to five days to get the results.

To a man who hated waiting for anything, three to five days seemed like an eternity. He wanted the matter resolved. He wanted his daughter to stop fantasizing about having a mother again. Most of all, he wanted peace of mind. Proving Faith the baby rocker was not Christie was going to bring that to him.

CHAPTER FOUR

FAITH LAY AWAKE in her bed, wishing she could stop replaying the conversation she’d had with Adam Novak. She fluffed her pillow and turned over for what had to be the hundredth time, refusing to look at the clock. She didn’t want to know how late it was. Sleep would eventually come. It always did, no matter how troubled her thoughts were. The past few weeks had proven that.

Only, tonight was different from any of the other nights she’d spent at the Carsons’. Her insomnia wasn’t due to the fact that she couldn’t remember her past, but rather the possibility that she could be about to find it. She’d been given a ray of hope that a force existed strong enough to crack the darkness that held her memory in its grasp. And all because of a little girl who’d needed surgery at the hospital.

Megan Novak. The thought of the six-year-old crying for her mommy made her heart ache. She remembered how the girl had begged Faith not to leave her after surgery. At the time Faith had thought she was simply frightened, but now she realized it was more than fear that had Megan reaching out to her.

If Megan were her daughter—and Faith knew that possibility was a slim one—she would find one giant piece of her memory puzzle. Unfortunately she would need a lot more pieces to understand what had happened to cause her to be found far away from the North Shore where Christie had disappeared.

Although Faith hadn’t admitted it to Adam, she knew it was unlikely that she was Megan’s mother. Adam believed that the authorities were right, that there was no way Christie would have survived the boating accident last autumn. It was that very aspect of the situation—the fact that they hadn’t found a body—that gave Faith a spark of hope that she could be the missing woman. Her heart, however, refused to believe that she could ever abandon her own child. As much as she wanted to solve the mystery of her identity, she didn’t want to be the reason why an innocent child like Megan had been forced to suffer such grief.

After much tossing and turning, Faith’s weary body finally succumbed to sleep. She awoke several times, her slumber interrupted by disturbing dreams. At Dr. Carson’s suggestion, she’d placed a pencil and paper next to the bed in the event that she might find clues to her past from the images passing through her mind while she slept, but so far her notepad was empty with the exception of one word. Outcast.

She’d written it down not because of anything she remembered dreaming, but because of the feeling she always had when she awoke—as if she were being excluded from something. Faith questioned whether that feeling was associated with the content of her dreams or if it was simply the result of having no memory of her past. Because her amnesia made her a stranger to her own life, denying her access to people and places, she often felt like an outsider to her own thoughts.

That morning, she was wakened by a dream. This time she could recall the content and quickly reached for her notepad and pencil. She jotted down the words and images flashing through her head. Megan. Baby. Doll. She wrote as fast as she could, but the pictures faded quickly and before she knew it the dream was nothing but a blur.

Eager to talk with Dr. Carson to see if he thought there was any significance to what she had remembered, she scrambled out of bed and hurried downstairs only to find Marie was alone in the kitchen. “Is Avery still asleep?”

“No, he’s gone. He had an appointment early this morning,” Marie answered. “Aren’t you feeling well?”

The question made Faith aware that in her haste to talk to the doctor she hadn’t pulled on her robe and slippers. She stood barefoot in her nightgown, her hair tousled from sleep.

“I had a dream,” Faith said with a sense of urgency. “One that I could remember.” She held up the piece of paper on which she’d jotted her notes. “I thought I should tell him about it…you know, to see if it has any significance.”

“You mean any clues to your past.” Faith nodded and Marie said, “I’m afraid I don’t know as much on the subject of dreams as Avery does, but I’m willing to listen if you want to talk about it.”

Faith did want to talk about it, and since Marie had become her friend, she didn’t hesitate to say, “I’d like that.” Feeling the cold floor beneath her feet, she shifted from one foot to the other.

Marie noticed and said, “Why don’t we go into the living room and I’ll turn on the fireplace? We’ll be much more comfortable there.”

Faith agreed, then followed her into the adjoining room where with the flick of a switch, Marie made gas flames dance in the brick fireplace. Then she reached for a lap robe that had been draped over the back of the love seat and gave it to Faith, motioning for her to take a chair near the hearth. “This should keep you warm.”

Faith tucked her feet beneath her as she sat down, thanking her hostess as she covered herself with the soft woolen robe. “I can’t believe I actually remembered something from a dream.”

Marie took the wingback chair next to her. “It sounds as if you think it may be important.”

“I’m not sure. It really wasn’t much, but I did write down what I could remember when I woke up—just like Avery told me to do. Unfortunately the images faded quickly.”

“Dreams have a way of doing that,” Marie commented, leaning closer to her. “Now tell me about yours.”

She glanced down at the notes on her paper. “I was holding a baby. Actually, I was rocking it.”

“Were you at the child-care center?” Marie asked.

“I’m not sure, but I think I may have been because it’s the only time I rock babies, and Megan Novak was there, too.” She paused, rubbing her fingers across her brow as she struggled to remember more details.

“Go on, dear,” Marie encouraged.

“Megan asked me if she could see the baby, but when I pulled back the blanket, it wasn’t a baby in my arms at all. It was a doll. A faceless doll. And when Megan saw it she began to cry.” She shrugged. “That’s it. That’s all I can remember.”

The look Marie gave her was intent. “No other details? Clothing, furniture, time of day?”

Faith shook her head. “I think Megan wore a hospital gown, but I’m not sure.”

When Marie didn’t say anything for several moments, Faith asked, “Do you think the doll could be a real baby? My baby?”

“And she didn’t have a face because you can’t remember her?” Marie accurately followed the direction of her thoughts.

“It would explain why Megan cries when she sees the doll.”

Marie’s brow wrinkled. “Why do you say that?”

“If Megan is my daughter and the doll represents her as an infant, then it’s only natural that she’d be upset that I don’t remember her,” Faith reasoned.

Marie was quiet for a moment, her eyes thoughtful while she contemplated the possibility. “You might be right,” she finally admitted. “Or it could be that your subconscious is simply trying to sort through everything Adam Novak told you yesterday. After all, you only had this dream after he told you about Megan’s mother.”

Faith nodded pensively, aware that Marie made a valid point. “You’re saying if Adam hadn’t told me about Megan mistaking me for her mother, I might not have had the dream at all.”

Marie’s voice softened as she said, “That’s not what you wanted to hear, is it?”

She shook her head again. “I keep looking for signs….” Faith struggled to keep her disappointment from showing.

Marie reached across to place her hand on Faith’s arm. “I know how difficult it’s been for you these past few weeks. You want answers, but I’m not sure you’re going to find them in your dreams.”

“Then where do I find them?”

“Avery said a simple DNA test would prove whether or not you’re Megan’s mother.”

Faith remembered Avery mentioning a medical test that could be done to determine whether a biological relationship existed between two people. Because she was exhausted both physically and emotionally, she’d had difficulty following his explanation of genetic coding and he’d told her not to worry because they would talk about it again if it was necessary.

“By finding out who you’re not, you’ll at least have one answer,” Marie continued.

Faith nodded, biting on her lower lip as she mulled over what Marie said. “It’ll take a while to get the results.”

“And you’re in a hurry,” Marie stated with an understanding smile. “You want the answer now, don’t you?” When Faith nodded she added, “Maybe you don’t need a DNA test.”

Faith frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You could go straight to Megan Novak. You said last night that her father hadn’t seen her mother recently. Megan, on the other hand, saw her daily. Even if she is only six, she should be able to identify her own mother,” Marie reasoned. She tapped a finger against her forehead. “Amnesia has affected what’s inside here, not your physical appearance. I doubt Megan’s forgotten the sound of her mother’s voice or the feel of her hands.”

“You think she’ll be able to tell right away?”

“Don’t you?”

It was something Faith had contemplated last night as she’d tossed and turned before falling asleep. Right or wrong, Megan believed Faith was her mother based on an encounter they’d had while she’d been sedated. She no longer suffered the effects of anesthesia. The next meeting between them could very well force Megan to accept that she’d been mistaken, that Faith wasn’t her mother.

As Faith showered, thoughts of the six-year-old continued to occupy her mind. Be responsible. A man’s voice echoed in her memory, startling her. She had no idea from what part of her past the voice had come, but there was no denying its presence. She shut off the water, hoping to hear other voices, but there were none. Briefly she closed her eyes, willing her mind to remember the time when she’d heard that voice, but all she saw was darkness.

Answers. She wanted answers, which was why when she arrived at the hospital she didn’t go to the day-care center but took the elevator to the second floor and went straight to the nursing station. When she asked which room Megan Novak occupied and if she was allowed to have visitors, she learned that Adam Novak had spent the night in his daughter’s room. Butterflies began to flutter in her stomach.

Just the thought of seeing him again sent a delicious shiver of anticipation through her. She remembered how those dark eyes had pierced her with an intensity that had made her go weak at the knees.

When she reached room 217, the door was open but a curtain had been pulled around the bed. Faith could hear voices—a child’s and an adult’s. The adult’s voice belonged to a woman. Faith paused outside the room, not wanting to intrude.

Within a few minutes, a nurse came out. When she saw Faith she said, “Are you here to see Megan?”

“If you think it’s all right if I visit her. I work downstairs in the child-care center,” she answered. “I don’t want to intrude if she’s with her family.”

“There’s no one in there but Megan.”

“I thought her father was here?”

“He was but he must have stepped out. Go on in,” she urged Faith. Before scurrying off down the hallway, the nurse poked her head back into the room and called out, “You have a visitor, Megan.”

Faith stepped tentatively into the room, wondering if she shouldn’t have waited for Adam Novak to be with his daughter when she approached her. Then she heard a tiny voice call out, “Is anybody there?” and she pushed her doubts aside.

The nurse had raised the back of Megan’s bed so that she was almost in a sitting position. Her eyes widened when she saw Faith and a smile spread across her face.

“It’s you!” she said on a delightful note.

“Yes, it’s me.” Faith wasn’t quite sure what else to say. “How are you feeling?”

Megan didn’t answer the question but said, “I knew Adam was wrong. He said people can’t come back from heaven, but I told him I saw you and now you’re here.”

“I’ve never been to heaven, Megan,” she said gently, noting that she’d referred to her father by his given name instead of calling him Dad or Daddy.

“Then where have you been?” Blue eyes looked at her with an innocence that tugged at Faith’s heartstrings. They grew cloudy as Faith moved closer to her. “You are my mommy, aren’t you? You look like her.” Uncertainty crept into her voice, replacing the joy that had greeted her arrival.

Faith gazed into blue eyes that begged her to answer the question with a yes. Faith wished she could. The last thing she wanted to do was destroy the hope this beautiful child harbored, yet until the answers to her own questions were found, she had no choice but to be candid.

She pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down. “I don’t know if I’m your mommy.”

Megan frowned, her eyes losing some of their sparkle as she looked in bewilderment at Faith.

“You’re probably wondering how a mommy can not know that she’s a mommy, but if you’ll listen, I’ll try to explain it to you, all right?” Faith said calmly.

“All right,” the small voice answered.

“Megan, you came to the hospital to have an operation, didn’t you?”

She nodded. “My appendix was broken.”

“Yes, and it was making you feel badly, wasn’t it?” Again she nodded and Faith continued. “I have something inside me that’s broken, too.”

“Are you going to have an operation like I did?”

“No. What’s broken inside me can’t be fixed by being in the hospital.”

“Then how can it get fixed?”

“That’s the problem. The doctors aren’t sure how to make it work again.” She tapped her forehead with her finger. “My broken part is up here in my memory. Because it’s not working, I forget things I should know. Like my name.”

Megan’s blue eyes widened. “You don’t know your name?”

Faith shook her head. “Or where I live or who my family is.” She lifted her wrist with the leather bracelet on it. “Everyone calls me Faith because of this, but I can’t remember if it really is my name. I could be someone named Faith or I could be another person with a different name.”

Megan fingered the leather band and Faith asked, “Do you remember seeing your mother wear a bracelet like this?”

She shook her head. “Uh-uh. Who gave it to you?”

“I don’t have the answer to that question,” she answered honestly.

“Can’t you remember?”

“No, I can’t. It’s another one of those things—like my name—that’s been put in a place inside of my head where I can’t find it.” She leaned forward. “I want to find all those things I can’t remember. That’s why I came to see you. I think you might be able to help me.”

“How?”

“I want you to tell me why you think I could be your mother. Would that be okay with you?”

Megan nodded vigorously, her innocent eyes showing her eagerness to please.

“Great.” She gave her a big smile, then shoved her hands out in front of her, palms down. “You said my face looks like your mother’s. What about my hands?”

Megan reached for them, her tiny fingers turning them over. Her touch was soft and warm as she studied them as if they were of utmost importance. “They kinda look like my mommy’s hands, but you’re not wearing the mommy ring and your nails are a mess.”

Faith passed on the criticism of her short, stubby fingernails, focusing on the missing jewelry. “What’s a mommy ring?”

“It’s a ring that mommies wear. Uncle Tom helped me pick it out for my mommy’s birthday. It has a heart on it and a blue diamond cuz that’s my birthstone.”

“And your mother wore it all the time?”

“Uh-huh. She said she was never going to take it off because every time she looked at it she would know I love her.”

Faith had to swallow back the emotion that wanted to lodge itself in her throat. She glanced at her bare fingers, wishing she’d been found wearing such a ring. Of course the fact that she wasn’t wearing one didn’t rule out the possibility that she was Megan’s mother. She could have lost the ring or it could have been stolen.

“You said my fingernails are a mess,” Faith reminded her.

Again Megan nodded her blond head. “Doreen would have a hissy fit if she saw them.”

“Doreen? Who’s that?”

“Mommy’s best friend. She works at the Cut and Curl except she always comes to our house to do our nails because it cost too much to go to the beauty parlor. She made little flowers on mine one time. Lori doesn’t know how to do flowers. See?” She held up her hands and Faith saw each tiny nail had a coating of dark purple.

“They’re very pretty,” she commented, wondering who Lori was. “Does Lori live here in the Twin Cities?”

“Uh-huh. Her house is just around the corner from Adam’s, which is good because that means I can go to her house after school. She’s going to have a baby. She’s this fat.” She extended her hand out in front of her stomach as far as it could reach.

“Is she your day-care provider?”

“I don’t go to day care. I go to Lori’s.”

“And Lori is?”

“Her aunt,” a male voice answered, startling Faith.

She turned to see Adam Novak looming behind her, looking even more attractive than he had the last time she’d seen him. He was not happy to see her with his daughter. That much was evident by the narrowness of his dark eyes.

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