Chance should probably go.

Probably.

But he didn’t.

Being a chaplain had hardwired him to be concerned for the sick and the struggling. Rayne was both.

He scowled, pacing back to the window as the doctor continued his examination of Rayne. Outside, sheets of ice fell from the charcoal sky, pinging off the ground and cars, shimmering on trees and bushes. A shadow shifted at the edge of the lot, merged with another shadow. Two figures standing in the icy downpour at midnight with the windchill dipping to twenty below?

Not something any sane person would do, but that didn’t mean anything sinister was going on.

Someone was in my room.

Rayne’s words drifted through his mind, and he couldn’t ignore them or the quicksilver shot of adrenaline that flooded his veins.

Maybe nothing was going on.

Probably nothing was.

But it wouldn’t hurt to check things out.

Dear Reader,

Rayne Sampson has three simple rules for heart-healthy living, and she has absolutely no intention of breaking them. A single mother, raising her best friend’s child, she knows how easy it is to fall in love with the wrong person, and she never intends to do it again. When a car accident steals her memories, and her life spins out of control, private detective Chance Richardson steps in to help. He’s strong, caring and dependable, his faith shining out and drawing Rayne in.

But she has her rules, and she can’t break them.

Or can she?

I hope you enjoy Rayne and Chance’s story. Like many of us, they are flawed and fickle, their hearts bruised from poor decisions and heartache. In the end, it is their faith in God and their love for each other that leads them through.

You are my hiding place; you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance.

—Psalms 32:7

Private Eye Protector

Shirlee McCoy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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To my parents Edward and Shirley Porter who taught me what a lifetime of love looks like.

And to my husband Rodney, who shows me every day.

ONE

Someone stood in the open door of the room, his silence more compelling than the steady beep of machinery, more alarming than the agonizing pain that had tugged Rayne Sampson from the velvety darkness she’d floated in for …

How long?

She didn’t know.

Had no sense of time passing.

She shifted, the mechanized beep jumping with her pulse.

Pain.

In her head.

Her joints.

Someone watching. Time stalling. Nothing moving. Not Rayne. Not the figure standing near the door.

Get up.

Find Emma.

The command shot through her pain-racked head, and she swung her legs over the bed, trying desperately to figure out where she was, how she’d gotten there.

Where her daughter was.

Emma!

She had to find her, couldn’t fail her.

You don’t have what it takes to be a mother, Rayne. You’re too young. You need to grow up a little, be a wife first. Be my wife. Just like we planned.

Michael’s words drifted through her mind, filling her head so that it pounded even harder, throbbed more insistently.

When had he said those things?

A week ago?

A month ago?

She had no sense of time passing, and her heart thundered with the knowledge.

“Where’s my daughter?” she asked the man who watched, but the doorway was empty, the hall beyond brightly lit. The sound of footsteps and voices drifted into the room. People chatting and laughing, the sounds echoing through Rayne’s pounding skull.

Get up!

She pushed to her feet, nearly tripping over an IV pole.

A hospital.

She was in a hospital.

But she had no idea how she’d gotten there. No memory of an accident or an injury.

“Where’s Emma?” she spoke out loud, trying desperately to cling to the thought as darkness edged in and the floor slid away.

Cold sweat beaded her brow, her limbs trembling as she tried to hold on to consciousness.

You don’t have what it takes to be a mother.

“You’re wrong,” she muttered—not sure if she was in the moment or in the past—her voice raspy, her thoughts fuzzy.

Find her.

She took a step and fell into darkness.

Emma!

The name speared through the darkness, and she jerked back to the room, the endless mechanized beeping.

The pain.

Overwhelming, mind-searing pain. Cold tiles seeped through cotton and chilled her to the bone. On the floor, but she didn’t know how she’d gotten there.

Footsteps sounded on tile. Close. Coming closer.

The man returning?

She struggled to her hands and knees.

Get up.

Find Emma.

Hurry.

But, her movements were sluggish and uncoordinated, her efforts futile.

“Rayne? What are you doing?” A voice drifted into the darkness, light splashing across the floor, splashing into her eyes and blinding her, making her turn her head to the side, away from the glare.

She blinked, focused.

Boot-clad feet just inches away.

Hands wrapped around her waist, eased her to her feet.

Warm breath against her cheek, and she was being lifted off the ground, the machine beeping, her ear pressed against something warm and solid.

She let her eyes slide shut, relaxing against the touch that felt so safe.

Someone brushed strands of hair from her cheek.

Her brother or father?

Michael?

Couldn’t be Michael. She’d given back the ring, broken things off.

“Dad? Jonas?” She wanted to open her eyes, tried to open them, but they felt so heavy.

“Chance.”

She forced her eyes open, looked into a stranger’s face.

Dark hair, high cheekbones, pale eyes.

She knew those eyes.

Didn’t she?

“Who are you?”

“Chance Richardson.” He frowned, pressed a button on the bed rail. “We work for the same company. You rent an apartment from my mother. Don’t you remember?”

Did she remember?

She tried to pull the information from her mind, found nothing but emptiness and a cold, hard kernel of fear. “I live in Arizona. I work for a women’s shelter in Phoenix.”

“Do you know what day it is, Rayne?” He looked into her eyes, searching for something, but she had nothing to give. His eyes shimmered blue or green or gray, and she was sure she’d looked in them before.

When?

Where?

“I … No.”

“Do you know what city you’re in?”

A memory surfaced. Packing the U-Haul, strapping Emma into her car seat, leaving everything she knew to take a new job in a new place. “I remember packing to leave. That’s it.”

“Do you know where you are?” He pressed the button on the bed rail again, and she knew he was summoning a nurse. A nurse couldn’t help, though. All that could help was remembering, and that seemed to be impossible.

“The hospital.”

“Do you remember how you got here?”

“No.”

“You were in an accident,” he said, as if he hoped it would spark a memory.

All it sparked was terror.

Emma!

“Where’s my daughter?” Rayne tried to sit up, but Chance pressed her back.

“She’s fine. She wasn’t in the car with you.”

“Thank God.” She closed her eyes, the prayer swirling through her mind again and again and again.

“He was definitely looking out for both of you. Do you remember what happened?”

No, and that terrified her.

She tried to respond, but her thoughts were clumsy, her eyelids leaden.

“Do you remember the accident, Rayne?” he persisted, pulling her from the edge of sleep.

She scowled, wondering if she knew him well enough to tell him to go away and leave her alone. Not to ask any more questions, because every question she couldn’t answer only added to her fear.

“Do you know how it happened? Where it happened?”

“In my car?” There. Finally something she could answer.

“Funny, Goldilocks, but that’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

“I wasn’t trying to be funny, and my hair isn’t gold, it’s platinum.”

“Looks gold to me. Do you know what town you’re in?”

That she could answer, too.

She’d left Phoenix to work in Spokane, Washington. If Chance was her coworker, she must be there.

“Spokane, but I’m tired of playing twenty questions, so let’s stop for a while, okay?” She opened her eyes, looked into his gray-blue gaze.

Eyes she knew but didn’t know.

The world spun, and she spun with it, falling back into darkness so quickly she thought she might never escape it.

She reached out, grabbed something warm and solid.

His hand.

Calloused and rough and oddly familiar.

She knew his eyes, and she knew him, but she had no memory of meeting him, no knowledge of their shared history. How far back did that history go? How much time had passed since her last memory?

Was Emma still a baby?

Had she grown into a toddler?

Something more?

Terrified, she sat up, stars shooting in front of her eyes.

“I need to see my daughter.” The frantic edge to her voice matched her racing pulse and the frenzied beep of the machine.

“Calm down, Rayne. Emma is fine. My mom was babysitting her while you worked, and she’s still taking care of her.” Chance pressed a palm to her cheek, forced her to look into his eyes.

Calm.

Confident.

Not panicked at all.

Then again, he wasn’t the one with amnesia.

“Is everything okay in here?” A nurse walked into the room, her dark eyes widening as she saw Rayne. “You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“Aside from having a splitting headache and amnesia? Okay.”

“Amnesia? The nurse looked at chance, and he nodded.

“She seems to be missing her recent memories. No idea what day it is, no memory of the accident. She doesn’t seem to remember me or the area.”

“She’s sitting right here, and she can speak for herself,” Rayne grumbled, but throbbing pain stole the heat from her words, and she really didn’t have the strength to add to what he’d said.

Besides, what would she add?

He’d said it all.

All her recent memories were gone. Trying to find them was like searching through a sea of nothingness.

“I’ll page the attending physician. He’ll want to ask you a few questions, Rayne. In the meantime, on a scale of one to ten, what’s your pain level?”

“Seven.” But, compared to her fear and confusion, that was negligible.

She wanted to remember everything. Wanted it with a desperation that made her physically ill.

“When the doctor comes in, we’ll see if you can take something for that.”

“I don’t need anything for the pain. All I want is to go home and see my daughter.” Only she didn’t know where home was. Didn’t know where her daughter was.

Being a parent is a big responsibility. Let someone else take it on. Someone who really wants a baby.

Michael spoke from the past, and Rayne realized she’d closed her eyes, was drifting on waves of distant memories.

Or maybe not so distant.

“What day is it? What’s the date?” she asked.

“Friday, November 28th, 2011.” Chance answered, smoothing a lock of hair from her forehead.

She’d left Phoenix at the beginning of October. That meant she’d lost nearly two months of her life. Two months of Emma’s life.

Better than the alternative.

Better than years or decades.

“I need to see Emma.” She sat up, ignoring the nurse’s protest, ignoring Chance’s hand pressed to her shoulder.

Michael had been wrong.

Everything he’d said, everything he’d believed about her ability to parent Chandra’s baby had been wrong.

Rayne had spent the past eight months proving that.

She wouldn’t fail now. Wouldn’t leave her baby with a complete stranger.

“Do you really think you’re going to do her any good in the condition you’re in?”

“I’ll do her a lot more good if I’m with her than if I’m away from her.”

“My mother has been her babysitter since you moved into the apartment. She and Emma will do just fine together. All you need to worry about is getting better,” Chance said, and Rayne reached for a name, a face, something to go with his words.

Nothing.

Blank.

“I don’t know your mother. I don’t know you.” Her breath came in short gasps, and she felt helpless to control it. Panic edged out everything. The nurse. Chance. The pain that slammed through Rayne’s skull.

“You’re not going to fall apart, Rayne. You have a kid to get home to and a life to live. This is just a blip on the radar, so take a deep breath and pull yourself together,” Chance growled, his eyes blazing into hers, forcing her back from the brink.

She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to thank him or punch him, but his harsh words had worked. She could breathe. She could think.

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one with holes in your memories.”

“That’s better, Goldilocks.” He patted her hand, moved aside as the nurse leaned in to take Rayne’s vitals.

“Partial amnesia is very common with head injuries. Give yourself a little time. Things will come back to you.” The nurse jotted something on Rayne’s chart, offering an easy smile.

“When?”

“Unfortunately, it isn’t an exact science. Sometimes, memories come back quickly. Sometimes, it takes months. Even years.”

“I want them back now. I can’t stomach the thought of my daughter with someone I don’t know,” she said, the words blurting out before she thought about how they’d sound.

“Of course you feel that way. What mother wouldn’t? But I can assure you that Lila Richardson is one of the most wonderful women around. She’ll take good care of your daughter.”

“You know her?”

“She taught my Sunday school class when I was a kid, and now, she teaches my son. She’s great, and I’m not just saying that because Chance is in the room.”

“That make me feel better.” But not much. Emma was her responsibility. She’d made a promise to Chandra, and she didn’t take that lightly.

Sure, I’ll raise her if something happens to you.

But she hadn’t expected anything to happen to her best friend. Hadn’t thought very hard about what it would mean to take on the responsibility of raising another human being.

“Good. Now, you just rest for a while, okay? The doctor should be in shortly. Hopefully, by midnight, you’ll have some pain medicine and be fast asleep. Everything will look better in the morning.” The nurse pulled the blanket up to Rayne’s chin, tucked it around her shoulders.

Everything is going to be okay.” Chance said, his words soothing and smooth, commanding her attention.

“Okay? I’m missing nearly two months of my life.”

But maybe the nurse was right.

Maybe things would look better in the morning.

Still, something nagged at the back of her mind, something that shivered along her spine, lodged at the base of her skull, pounded into her consciousness.

Someone standing in the open doorway, watching.

Chance?

A doctor?

Did it matter?

People came and went in hospitals. There was nothing alarming about that, but she couldn’t shake her fear, couldn’t put the image out of her mind.

A man.

Watching.

“Were you in my room earlier, Chance?” she asked, because she had to know. Couldn’t rest until she was sure.

“I’ve been waiting down in the emergency room while they got you settled. My mom was here with Emma, but Emma got fussy and they had to leave. I walked them out to the parking lot and came up. Why?”

“Someone was here, standing in the doorway, watching me.”

“The cleaning crew just made its rounds. You probably saw one of the team,” the nurse interjected.

A custodian?

Rayne didn’t think so.

But her head had been fuzzy, her thinking muddled, her vision blurred.

The nurse glanced at her watch. “I need to go do rounds. The doctor will be here soon. If you need anything before then, just buzz.”

She hurried out of the room.

“Are you okay?” Chance asked, and she shrugged, her shoulders aching, muscles she hadn’t even realized she had throbbing in protest.

A car accident.

Amnesia.

Of course she was seeing danger in the shadows … and the doorways.

“I will be.”

“Then why do you look so scared?” He studied her face, searched her eyes, saw more than she wanted anyone to.

Mothers were tough, right?

Strong.

Immovable.

They didn’t rely on other people, because they didn’t need anyone to take care of them. They took care of themselves.

So no more relying on other people for Rayne.

That was rule number one for heart-healthy living, and Rayne planned to remember it. No matter what else she forgot.

“I’m not scared. I just don’t think the guy I saw was a custodian.”

“Then who do you think he was?”

“I don’t know.”

“He could have been a nurse or a doctor.”

“Maybe.”

“Look, if you’re nervous about staying here alone tonight …”

“I’m not.” At least, not very.

“I can stay with you.”

“Really. I’ll be fine.”

But something nagged below the surface of her mind.

Bright lights. Terror.

There and gone so quickly she couldn’t hold on to them.

“I planned to hang out for a while anyway, so I’ll wait until the doctor comes in. Then I’ll talk to the maintenance staff. See if any of them were in your room. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like you’re placating me.”

“I don’t have the time or patience to placate anyone, Rayne.” Chance stretched his long, muscular frame, his gray-blue gaze never leaving her face.

Handsome.

Really handsome.

How could she not remember a face like his?

“You said we work for the same company.”

“That’s right. I’m a private detective with Information Unlimited. You’ve worked with several of my clients.”

A new job.

A new life.

A fresh start.

Working as a victim’s advocate for the P.I. firm that employed her sister-in-law had seemed like a perfect opportunity to put her mistakes behind her.

That she remembered.

She also remembered her mistakes.

Mistake.

One mistake.

But a big one. Thankfully, she’d called her engagement off before it could turn in to a catastrophe.

Something buzzed, the sound jerking her out of the half sleep she’d fallen into. She sat up straight, her heart pounding. Dizzy, disoriented.

“It’s just my phone,” Chance said quietly.

Still there.

Still handsome.

Still a stranger.

She watched as he answered his phone, studying his face, trying to remember the day they’d met, the place.

“Yes. She’s awake. Seems fairly lucid, but she has partial amnesia.” His words penetrated the thick fog in her brain, and she frowned.

“I’m completely lucid.”

“Did you hear that?” he asked, then nodded. “I think so. Let me check. Are you up to talking to your brother?”

“Jonas?”

Of course Jonas.

She only had one brother.

Maybe she wasn’t as lucid as she’d thought.

“Yes.”

“Sure.” She took the phone, pressed it to her ear, her hand shaking. “Jonas?”

“Hey, sis. Rough night, huh?” His familiar voice brought unwanted tears to her eyes, and she sniffed them away.

“I’ve had better.”

“You okay?”

“Aside from a headache, I’m fine.”

“Glad to hear it. We’ve been worried, but there aren’t any flights leaving until tomorrow afternoon. We should be there sometime tomorrow night.”

“We?”

“Skylar and me. Mom and Dad.”

“You can’t drop everything you’re doing to fly out here.”

“Sure we can.”

“Maybe I should rephrase that. I’m doing great. By tomorrow, I’ll be home and back to my routine. I’d rather you all come up for Emma’s first birthday. Just as we planned.”

“There’s no reason why we can’t come now and in April.”

“It’s too expensive, and I’ll spend the whole time you’re here feeling guilty.”

“Rayne—”

“I promise—if I need you guys here, I’ll let you know. But for right now, I’m fine.”

“Chance said you have partial amnesia. I don’t consider that fine.”

“There are just a few holes in my memory. The nurse said that’s common with head injuries. I’ll probably remember everything before I leave the hospital.”

Chance snorted at her optimism, but Rayne ignored him.

She loved her family, but they worried too much, jumped in to rescue her before she ever had an opportunity to rescue herself. When she’d taken custody of Emma, Rayne’s mother had offered free babysitting and had insisted on cooking meals, doing the laundry and cleaning. After Rayne broke up with Michael, Jonas and Skylar had traveled from New Mexico to Arizona and stayed with her for a week. The day she’d been held at gunpoint …

She frowned.

No need to go back there.

She’d made her decision before that, knew that she had to break away, prove herself as a mother on her own. No parents and siblings stepping in to rescue her, no fiancé telling her she wasn’t capable. Just Rayne and Emma making a wonderful life in a beautiful new town.

Anything else would mean weakness, anything else could lead to heartache.

And she didn’t want either of those things in her life.

“All right. It’s your choice, but I’m not going to say I’m happy about it. You’ll call if you need anything, right?” Jonas asked, and she forced herself to focus on the question, on the conversation.

“You know I will.”

“I’ll call Mom and Dad and let them know you’re okay, but as soon as you get a chance, give them a ring. Mom has been beside herself since she got the call saying you were in the hospital.”

“I’m really sorry I worried all of you.”

“That’s what families are for.”

“Worry?”

“Something like that. Keep safe, sis. Love you.” Jonas disconnected and Rayne handed the phone back to Chance.

“So you really think you’re going back to your normal routine tomorrow?” he asked as he shoved the phone in his pocket.

“I don’t see why not.”

“Let’s start with the fact that you’re lying in a hospital, hooked up to an IV, with a lump the size of a grapefruit on the side of your forehead.”

“Is it really that big?” She fingered the bump on her forehead, wincing as she probed the tender flesh.

“I might be exaggerating, but my point is the same. You’re not going to be doing anything but resting tomorrow.”

“Hopefully, with my memories intact.” Her words were slurred, her mind fuzzy and, for a moment, she wasn’t sure what they were talking about. Why they were discussing it.

Didn’t even know if she cared.

“You’re drifting off again, Goldilocks.”

“Just resting my eyes,” she mumbled.

“Good. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Fabric rustled, and she knew he was going to leave. Felt sure that if he did, something bad would happen. Nothing about this place was familiar, except for him. His eyes. The warmth of his hand. And she didn’t want to be left alone in the dark again without either one.

“Don’t go.” She grabbed his hand, looked into his face. Familiar and strange all at the same time.

“Okay.” He settled back into the chair. No question about why she wanted him there. No hesitation. No list of things he needed to do.

Just his presence, given without reservation.

Not something she was used to.

Not something Michael would have done.

Michael.

Funny that a stranger was willing to give more of himself than her fiancé ever had.

Or maybe not so funny.

Michael had promised her everything, but he’d given her nothing of consequence. Dinner dates were nice, phone calls on Tuesday afternoons were fine, but when push came to shove, he’d proven he couldn’t be counted on.

If you insist on playing mother to a drug addict’s baby, then we’re through. Are you willing to let that happen, Rayne? Willing to give up what we’ve spent almost three years building?

She’d been willing.

She wasn’t sure she’d been ready to be a mother, though.

Still, she didn’t regret the promise she’d made the day Chandra had given birth to the red-faced, red-haired infant.

Even then, Rayne had loved Emma. She just hadn’t realized she would be her mother.

She was, though, and she’d do whatever it took to raise her, protect her and give her the life Chandra would have wanted for her.

It was the last thought she had before darkness carried her away.

TWO

Holding hands with Rayne Sampson was not how Chance had planned to spend his evening. As a matter of fact, the only thing he’d planned on holding was the remote for the television. He’d figured he deserved a couple of hours of downtime. It had been a long day.

A long week.

A long month.

A long year.

And now he was sitting in a hospital room, holding hands with a woman he’d been trying hard to avoid for the better part of two months.

He frowned, slipping his hand from hers.

Frowned again when she didn’t move.

He touched the side of her neck the way he had when he’d found her unconscious in her crumbled car, let his fingers linger on smooth skin and steady pulse.

“Don’t worry. I haven’t died, yet,” she grumbled, and he let his hand drop away.

“Yet?”

“The way my head is pounding, I’m thinking my brain might explode.” Her eyes opened slowly. Eyes the color of Loon Lake in early spring. Misty green-blue. He’d noticed them the day they’d met. Had told himself not to, but he’d been noticing them ever since, anyway.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t. Kane won’t be happy if you die on my watch.”

“I hope he won’t be happy if I die, period.” She flashed a smile that brought out the deep dimple in her cheek. Pretty. Wholesome. Not at all the way Jessica had been. No sultry allure or boldly painted lips. Rayne was all about subtle color and natural beauty.

“You remember Kane?”

“Sure. We spoke several times when I interviewed for my job with his company. I was really excited when he said he wanted to hire me. A new job. A new life,” she mumbled, and he thought she might drift off again.

“Was that the plan?” In the seven weeks he’d known her, he hadn’t asked why she’d moved from Arizona to Washington. Hadn’t asked a hundred questions that he’d wanted to ask, because asking would have meant interest, and he couldn’t allow himself to be interested again. To fall again.

Heart.

Soul.

Mind.

He’d done it once.

Had proven just how little he knew about what it meant to make it work. Failure hadn’t been in his vocabulary, but he’d failed anyway. Hadn’t given enough of himself, spent enough time, done enough to maintain what he’d been so eager to start.

“The plan? I don’t know if I had one. I just wanted to get away from …”

“What?”

“Sometimes a person just needs a fresh start.”

“I can understand that.” He’d made his own fresh start two years ago. Come back to the place he’d grown up, tried to put the past and all its mistakes behind him.

“Yeah, well, it looks like I’m getting another fresh start. Maybe you can fill me in on a few things.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose, her face pale, the bump on her head deep blue and green.

“Like what?”

“When did we meet? How did I end up renting an apartment from your mother? Are we just coworkers or are we more?” she asked.

Straightforward.

Unapologetic.

Handling the situation in the same forthright manner she handled clients. He’d admired that, admired a lot of things about Rayne.

“We’re coworkers. We attend the same church. Your apartment is in my mother’s attic. Kane knew my mother was looking for a tenant, and he knew you were looking for a place to stay. He mentioned it to me.” Chance had seen it as a win-win situation. His mother occupied with a renter who had a baby. Rayne provided with a comfortable home.

“So, we see each other outside of work sometimes?”

“Yes.”

“That explains it, then.”

“Explains what?”

“I can’t remember anything after I left Phoenix, but your eyes are familiar.” She blushed, pink coloring her pale cheeks.

“Like I said, we’re not strangers, but we’re not anything more than coworkers, either.”

“Good.”

“Good? I think I’m insulted,” he said, and she smiled, flashing her dimple.

“It’s nothing personal. I mean, if I were going to date again, I wouldn’t discount you out of hand.”

“That very … magnanimous of you.”

“That’s a big word, Chance, and my head is pounding too hard for a witty response. So how about I just say I’m out of the dating game and happy to be, and we leave it at that?”

“We can do that.”

“Thanks.” She closed her eyes, fell silent, and he let the conversation die.

She looked pale and fragile, her golden hair matted and stained with blood, but she was in better shape than her totaled car. It had flipped at least once when she ran off the road, and if she hadn’t been wearing a seat belt, she’d probably be dead.

He frowned, pacing across the room and staring out the window. Streetlights illuminated the parking lot, gleaming off the icy pavement. Not a good night for anyone to be out. Especially not someone who wasn’t used to driving in slick conditions.

But Rayne had left a client and driven to the airport. Why? It was a question he wanted to ask. One he knew she couldn’t answer. Below the window, someone moved through the parking lot, sticking to the shadows, avoiding the golden glow of the streetlights. Something about the figure’s furtive movements made the hair on the back of Chance’s neck stand on end.

As a chaplain in the army, he’d been in his share of danger zones. He knew the hair-raising, blood-pulsing feeling of impending trouble.

Someone was in my room.

That’s what Rayne had said, and he’d chalked her fear up to head injury and confusion.

Maybe there was something more to it, though.

Something more than the cleaning crew or her imagination.

Footsteps sounded in the hall, and Chance tensed, turning as the door swung open.

A balding man in his mid-fifties stepped into the room. Lab coat buttoned, stethoscope hanging from his pocket, he pulled Rayne’s chart from the end of the bed, glancing at it as he greeted Chance. “I’m Dr. Donahue. I’ll be the attending physician while Ms. Sampson is here.”

“That shouldn’t be too long, Doctor. I’m planning on leaving as soon as you unhook me from this IV,” Rayne said without opening her eyes.

“How about we see how you’re doing before we talk about getting the IV out or going home?” The doctor flashed a light in Rayne’s eyes, asked a few questions that she could answer, a few that she couldn’t.

Chance should probably go.

Probably.

But he didn’t.

Being a chaplain had hardwired him to be concerned for the sick and the struggling. Rayne was both.

That was a good enough reason to stay, but there were other reasons as well.

He might have spent the better part of two months avoiding her, but he hadn’t been able to ignore Rayne. She’d made a good reputation for herself at work, a good reputation in the community. Chance’s mother adored her. Everyone at Grace Christian Fellowship admired and respected her.

Chance would be lying if he said he hadn’t been pulled in by her sweet smile and contagious energy. He might be out of the dating game, but he wasn’t blind. So he was staying because he cared.

There was nothing wrong with that.

He could care without becoming too involved.

Sure you can.

He scowled, pacing back to the window as the doctor continued his examination. Outside, sheets of ice fell from the charcoal sky, pinging off the ground and cars, shimmering on trees and bushes. A shadow shifted at the edge of the lot, merged with another shadow. Two figures standing in the icy downpour at midnight with the wind chill dipping to twenty below?

Not something any sane person would do, but that didn’t mean anything sinister was going on.

Someone was in my room.

Rayne’s words drifted through his mind again, and he couldn’t ignore them or the quicksilver shot of adrenaline that flooded his veins.

Maybe nothing was going on.

Probably nothing was.

But it wouldn’t hurt to check things out.

He buttoned his coat, pulled on his gloves. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Where are you going?” Rayne asked, her eyes tracking his movements, her face pale as paper as the doctor probed the bump on her head.

“Just out to the parking lot.”

“Why?”

Good question.

I’m going to chase shadows didn’t seem like a good answer, so he kept it simple. “I need to check out a few things.”

She frowned. “What things?”

“You ask an awful lot of questions for someone with a concussion. You know that?”

“You avoid a lot of questions for someone who has nothing to hide.”

“Don’t go anywhere while I’m gone, okay?” He walked into the corridor before she could respond, jogging down two flights of stairs and out into the frigid November night. Cold wind bit through his coat and whipped ice into his eyes, nearly blinding him.

Definitely not a night to stand in a parking lot chatting.

He pulled up his hood, used it to shield his eyes as he crossed the nearly empty lot. No sign of the men who’d been there. He stood where they’d been, looked at the building, his gaze drawn to the only lit room on the second floor.

Lights flashed at the far end of the lot, a car engine roaring to life. He watched as the truck crawled toward him. Tinted windows made it impossible to see the driver, but Chance’s skin crawled, his body humming with adrenaline.

Danger.

He jumped back, nearly slipping on the ice.

The truck rolled by, turned onto the road, drove away.

Nothing unusual about someone leaving the hospital.

So why did Chance feel so uneasy?

He walked back into the hospital, jogged up the stairs, knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Rayne called, and he stepped into the room, scowling when he caught sight of her. Somehow, in the few minutes he’d been gone, she’d managed to get rid of the doctor and pull on black slacks.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to figure out how to get a shirtsleeve over this IV.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask why.”

“Then don’t.”

“You’re ornery when you’re hurt, Goldilocks.”

“I’m ornery, period.”

“So, why are you trying to get that sleeve over the IV?”

“I can’t walk outside dressed in a hospital gown.”

“You’re planning to walk outside with an IV?”

“No. I’m planning to go down the hall and ask a nurse to remove the IV. Then I’m going to walk outside.”

“And?”

“Hopefully, hitch a ride back to my apartment with you.”

“What does the doctor think of that plan?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“But I’m sure he mentioned how long he thought you should stay.”

“At least until tomorrow morning, but that’s not working for me. I keep saying I need to be with my daughter, and I mean it.” She shoved her feet into black pumps, clutching a sweater as if she really thought she was going to leave.

“You leaving isn’t working for me.”

“Then I guess we’re at an impasse.” She looked exhausted, the bruise on her head appearing deeper and more vivid. Another bruise stained her cheek, blue and black the only color on her pale face.

“You need to lie down. You’re pale as paper.”

“I need to see my daughter. I’ve tucked her into bed every night for eight months. She must have wondered where I was tonight. Wondered if I were coming back.”

“My mother is taking good care of her.”

“Your mother isn’t her mother. I am. What if she wakes up tonight crying for me? And what about tomorrow morning when she wakes up and I’m not there?”

“She’ll be—” He was going to say fine, but a tear slipped down Rayne’s cheek.

She brushed it away impatiently, sniffed back more, and all his reasons for convincing her to stay at the hospital suddenly didn’t seem nearly as important as getting her home to Emma.

“I’ll get a nurse to take out the IV. You stay here.”

“Thanks.” She offered a watery smile, and something in his chest shifted, warmed. He ignored it.

It took a half hour to track down the doctor and find a nurse who wasn’t too busy to unhook the IV.

Not a long time, but it seemed like an eternity, the clock ticking while Rayne sat alone in her hospital room.

Alone, and she’d seen someone standing in her room before Chance had found her crumbled on the ground.

Alone, and two men had been lingering in the hospital parking lot.

Alone.

Unprotected.

He jogged the last few yards to the room and walked in.

Rayne sat on the edge of the bed, a telephone pressed to her ear, a scowl etching lines in her pale face.

She met his eyes and frowned. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to knock?”

“The door was open. Why bother?”

“Because …” She paused, cocking her head to the side and speaking to whomever was on the other end of the phone line. “Yes, someone is here with me, and since you put me on hold … Look, Michael, you called me. I’m sorry the prayer chain gave you the impression that I was on death’s door. I’m not. As a matter of fact, I feel fine.”

“Liar,” Chance mouthed, and Rayne wrinkled her nose and turned away.

“Thank you for your concern. Good night.” She gently set the phone back in the receiver, and Chance had the distinct impression that she would rather have slammed it.

“I take it that wasn’t a friend.”

“My ex-fiancé. My mother called the prayer chain coordinator at my old church and told her I was awake and lucid. Michael just got home from work and got the message. He called to see how I was feeling.”

“At one in the morning?”

“He said he didn’t realize how late it was until he’d already dialed.”

“Who doesn’t know what time it is?”

“Michael. Were you able to find a nurse?” She changed the subject, and he went with it.

“Yes, I had to find the doctor and get him to write the order first. Sorry it took so long.”

“Actually, I dozed off for a while and woke up when the phone rang, so it didn’t seem like that long at all.” She smoothed hair away from her bruised cheek, her hand trembling slightly.

From pain?

Fear?

Fatigue?

The phone call?

“Are you sure you’re up to leaving?”

“I know I’m not up to staying.” She stood and swayed, her eyes closing as she sagged toward him.

He grabbed her waist, his palms pressed against cool cotton and taut muscles.

“Sorry. I think I got up too quickly.” She eased away, and he had the urge to tighten his grip, hold on a little longer.

Not a good direction for his thoughts to be going.

“You’d better sit back down.” His tone was gruffer than he’d intended, but Rayne didn’t seem to notice.

She also didn’t seem to have noticed that he’d told her to sit down.

She crossed the room, and dug through the bag of things his mother had packed and brought to the hospital earlier. He hadn’t looked inside but, knowing his mother, it contained everything Rayne would need for a month-long stay.

“Did you pack all this?” Rayne asked, pulling out a blue shirt, her hands still shaking.

She definitely needed to sit down.

“My mother did. Now how about you do what I suggested and sit before you fall?”

“I’m not going to fall.” But she sat anyway, dropping into a chair so quickly he wondered if her legs had gone out from under her.

He grabbed a pitcher of water from the table near the bed and poured some into a paper cup. “Here, drink this.”

“I’d rather not.”

“And I’d rather not watch you pass out.”

“Would you rather watch me lose my lunch?”

“That bad, huh?” He grabbed a paper towel from the bathroom, wetted it and pressed it against the back of her neck. Silky curls fell across his knuckles, and he caught the muted scent of flowers and rain drifting from her hair. A breath of spring amid the antiseptic smells that lingered in the hospital.

“I’ll be okay. I just need some fresh air.”

If her pallor was any indication, she needed more than fresh air, but before Chance could say as much, a nurse bustled into the room, eyeing Rayne with the same concern Chance felt.

“I hear you’ve decided to leave us,” the nurse said, and Rayne nodded.

“I have to get home to my daughter.”

“How will you care for your daughter if you can’t care for yourself?”

“I’ll—”

“My mother will help out,” Chance cut in. Arguing wasn’t going to do any of them any good. Rayne had made up her mind. The best thing they could do was move things along so he could get her home where she could rest—and where he could keep her safe.

The nurse took out the IV, and Chance walked out into the hall, waiting there while Rayne changed.

Definitely a long day working its way into a long night, and he wasn’t even sure why he was at the hospital waiting for Rayne. She’d made plenty of friends since she’d moved to Spokane. He could have called any one of them.

He hadn’t.

“All right. We’re ready.” The nurse wheeled Rayne into the hall, and Chance followed them down to the lobby and out into the early-morning darkness. Beyond the portico, the pavement glistened with ice, the winter storm still howling.

Why had Rayne left a meeting with a client and driven to the airport on such a terrible night?

He drove his SUV to the portico, helped Rayne into the passenger seat.

“We have a twenty-minute ride ahead of us. Why don’t you rest for a while?”

She didn’t respond, just leaned her head back and closed her eyes, the bruises on her face dark and angry-looking.

He pulled out onto the highway, ice turning to snow as he crawled along the slick road and into the hills of Green Bluff. Within minutes, white powder covered the road and the thick evergreens that lined it. The world lay silent and still, everyone and everything taking cover from the weather.

The dirt road that led to the farm and orchards where he’d grown up curved around barren fields. He passed the cottage he’d been living in since he’d left the army. Passed the matching cottage that his mother’s only farmhand used.

The farmhouse stood a quarter mile away, the porch light burning brightly the same way it had every night of Chance’s childhood.

Home.

That’s what it felt like. As a kid, he’d dreamed of big cities and exciting people. He’d wanted the thrill that came with new places and new faces. Working as an army chaplain had given him an opportunity to experience those things. For ten years, he’d served God, served his country, served his own desire to explore the world.

Now …

What?

He was backtracking, finding the easy pace of small-town life more fulfilling than he’d imagined it could be. Finding that serving God could be done just as easily at home as it could far away and finding it way too easy to forget the mistakes of the past and embrace something new.

He frowned, glancing at Rayne as he pulled into his mother’s driveway.

He wasn’t embracing anything. He was helping out a coworker, bringing a young mother home safe to her daughter, doing the kind of thing he’d done dozens of times over the years.

He was helping. Then he was going home and getting a few hours of sleep before the sun came up and another day began. He had a client to meet with in the morning. A fence to fix at the edge of the orchards. A to-do list half a mile long.

Rayne was just one more thing on that list.

Get her home safe.

That’s all he’d needed to do.

He’d done it.

Mission accomplished.

Somehow, though, as he opened the door and rounded the SUV, he had a feeling there was going to be a whole lot more to keeping Rayne safe than simply getting her home.

THREE

“Rayne?” Someone nudged her shoulder, and Rayne pushed the hand away, wanting to sink back into dreams and away from the throbbing pain in her head.

“Go away.” She didn’t open her eyes. No sense doing that, seeing as how she had no intention of moving. Every breath, every heartbeat brought more pain, and she had no desire to see what would happen if she actually did more.

“Come on, Goldilocks, are you really going to make me carry you?” The words were muttered against her ear as she was scooped up, pressed close to a hard chest.

Goldilocks?

Not Michael, then. He only ever called her Rayne. No sweetie or darling or honey. Just Rayne.

“I can walk,” she mumbled, but she didn’t want to walk, didn’t want to even open her eyes.

“Sure you can.” Not a stranger’s voice, and she tried to grasp a memory, hold on to it long enough to remember where she’d heard it.

Cold wind stung her cheeks, and she shivered as the world shifted and moved beneath her. A door opened, warmth replaced cold, and she knew she should open her eyes, look around, see where she was. Instead, she let her head rest against solid warmth, let herself drift away again.

“Chance! You scared twenty years off my life!” A female voice pulled her from darkness, and she opened her eyes, saw nothing but thick black leather. A coat. Chance’s coat. Images flashed through her mind. Blue-gray eyes and a hard, handsome face. New memories, not the missing ones, but at least she had them.

She just needed to turn her head, and she’d see the woman who’d spoken, but Rayne wasn’t sure moving was a good idea. Her stomach churned, bile rising up as Chance shifted his grip.

“Sorry, Mom. Rayne insisted on leaving the hospital and coming back to take care of Emma.”

“She’s a good mother. I wouldn’t have expected anything less. How is she doing?”

“Probably about as good as she looks.”

About as good as she looked?

She must look horrible.

“Just so you know, I’m awake, and I can hear every word you’re saying. If you plan on going into excruciating details about how terrible I look, I’d rather you not.” She managed to lift her head, and met the eyes of a sixty-something woman with salt-and-pepper curls and a barely lined face.

“You’re beautiful, bruises and all, my dear. Put her on the couch, Chance. It’s warmer than the back bedroom.”

“You mean the room I spent eighteen years of my life in?”

“Your father and I offered to let you sleep upstairs when you were five, but you were afraid the bogeyman would get you.”

“Yeah, and by the time I was a teenager, I liked the idea of ground-floor windows.”

“If we’d known that, we’d probably have insisted that you take one of the rooms in the upstairs apartment.”

“That’s exactly why you didn’t know.” Chance carried Rayne into a dark living room and set her on a couch that faced an oversize stone fireplace.

“Thanks. Next time, I’ll carry you,” she said, and he smiled, his face softening, his eyes warm in the darkness.

“I’m not sure we’d both survive that. You’re kind of puny.”

“Puny? I’m strong as an ox.”

“But much prettier,” he said, and then frowned, backing away, letting his mother move in to cover Rayne with a blanket.

“How are you feeling, dear?”

“I’m okay.”

“Thank the Lord. I was worried sick when you didn’t come home after work. You’ve never been late before.”

“I’m sorry I worried you.”

“Please, don’t apologize. I’m just glad I knew enough to be worried. Another couple of hours in that ditch, and you could have frozen to … Well, it doesn’t bear thinking about. You’re going to be okay, and that’s all that matters.” She patted Rayne’s hand, the motherly gesture reminding Rayne of all the things she’d left behind in Arizona.

“In case you’re wondering, Rayne, this is my mother, Lila Richardson.”

“You’re introducing me as if I haven’t been her landlord for a couple of months.” Lila laughed, apparently not realizing how serious the situation was.

Nearly two months in Washington.

Not even one memory.

“She has partial amnesia, Mom. She doesn’t remember anything after she left Arizona.”

Lila’s amusement slipped away, and she patted Rayne’s hand again. “I’m so sorry, Rayne. I didn’t mean to make light of things. Tell you what, I’ll bring you some tea. That should help you relax and sleep.”

“I’d like to see Emma first.” She sat up, ignoring the pain and dizziness that followed. She couldn’t sleep, wouldn’t sleep until she saw Emma, made sure she was okay. No matter how well she might have known Lila before the accident, Rayne knew nothing about her now. The nurse’s words had been comforting, but something niggled at Rayne’s mind every time she thought of her daughter. Fear. She knew the feeling, had felt it the day she’d had a gun pointed at her head, but she shouldn’t be feeling it now, sitting in a cozy living room.

She needed to see Emma.

Needed to hold her.

Need to make sure that her fears were unfounded, that her daughter really was safe.

“She’s in the guest room. Chance, why don’t you bring her out here? That way Rayne won’t have to get up.”

“I’m not sure waking a baby up at two in the morning is a good idea,” Chance said, not moving.

He was right, of course.

It didn’t make sense to pull Emma out of bed, but Rayne was going to see her. She stood, all the blood draining from her head.

“Careful.” Chance eased her back down onto the sofa, and she knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

“It won’t hurt Emma to see her mommy, and I know you’ll sleep better once you’ve seen her,” Lila said. “Don’t put anymore mother guilt on her, Chance. She’s been through enough without adding that into the mix. You go get the baby while I make the tea. Rayne, you just stay right where you are and let us take care of you.”

Let them take care of her?

Wasn’t that breaking rule number one?

Rayne was certain it was, but she did exactly what Lila said.

Sat.

Right there on the couch. Waiting for other people to take care of her and her daughter.

Mother guilt?

Yeah. She knew all about that. Had felt it almost every day since Chandra died and she’d become Emma’s legal guardian.

Guilt because she had to work.

Guilt because she didn’t spend every minute of every day caring for her daughter.

Guilt because she hadn’t been there to see Emma roll over for the first time, crawl for the first time.

You’re not ready to be a mother, Rayne.

In some ways, Michael had been right, but Rayne wasn’t sure any woman was ever truly prepared for motherhood. She just had to work hard to be the best mother she could be. That would be enough.

She hoped.

“Do you want me to get her, Rayne?” Chance asked.

Such an easy question to answer, but Rayne’s brain seemed to be misfiring, her thoughts scattered. “I don’t know.”

“Then I’ll get her.” He walked across the room and down a narrow hallway, and she waited, afraid to move for fear the room would move with her.

Seconds later, Chance reappeared, Emma resting against his shoulder. Bright red hair. Big blue eyes, slowly blinking open. Chubby cheeks. She had little of Chandra’s dark exotic beauty, though the almond shape of her eyes and the fullness of her lips reminded Rayne of her childhood friend.

“There she is, kid. Mommy is home.” Chance shifted Emma so she could see Rayne, and the baby reached out, babbling excitedly.

“Mamamamamama.”

Chance set her on Rayne’s lap, and the scent of baby lotion and formula filled Rayne’s nose. It was the best kind of perfume. The most wonderful aroma.

She smiled, kissing Emma’s soft curls, and hugging her close. “I missed you, baby.”

Missed an entire two months of her life.

“I see the princess is awake and raring to go.” Lila walked back into the room, carrying a tray that contained a mug and a plate of cookies and setting it on the coffee table.

“Hopefully, she won’t stay awake when Rayne is ready to sleep.”

Ready?

She’d passed ready. Her eyes drooped, her arms felt heavy, and it was all she could do to hold Emma. Pain throbbed behind her eyes, speared through her skull, but she didn’t want to give in to it. Didn’t want to put Emma down or hand her to someone else.

Eight months ago, she’d agreed to be guardian to Chandra’s baby if anything were to happen to Chandra. She hadn’t thought it through when she’d agreed, hadn’t taken more than five minutes to consider how becoming a mother would change her life, hadn’t prayed about it, hadn’t done any of the things she usually did when faced with major decisions.

Probably because there really hadn’t been any decision to make. She and Chandra had been best friends since kindergarten, and there was nothing Rayne would have refused her. And even though the decision had been hasty, Rayne couldn’t regret it. Emma was the best thing in her life.

“Mamamamam.” Emma grabbed a fistful of Rayne’s hair, holding it tight in her chubby hand as she bounced with excitement.

“Careful, kid. Your mom already has a headache. She doesn’t need you adding to it.” Chance unraveled hair from Emma’s fist, smiling as the baby grabbed his nose.

“Why don’t I take her back into the room, get her settled back down before she’s too wide-awake?” Lila reached for Emma, and Rayne didn’t have the strength to protest. She loved her daughter, wanted to care for her, but her leaden body refused to do anything but sag into the couch.

“Thank you, Mrs. Richardson.”

“No need to thank me. I love having a baby around the house. And you’ve always called me Lila. There’s no need to change that now.” Lila smiled as she carried Emma back down the hall.

“Your mother seems like a wonderful lady.”

“She thinks you are, too.” Chance grabbed a cookie and bit into it, holding the plate out to Rayne.

Her stomach lurched and she shook her head. Regretted it immediately when the lurching sensation grew worse. She felt dizzy and sick, her thoughts sliding away.

“Take a deep breath, Rayne. You’ve gone ten shades of pale.” Chance pressed his hand to her forehead, the warm, dry feel of his palm anchoring her to the moment.

“I’ll be okay.”

“You’ve said that several times tonight, but you haven’t convinced me yet.” He handed her the mug, and she took a small sip of the flowery brew, her hand shaking, tea sloshing over her wrist.

“Careful.” Chance wiped the liquid up with a napkin, and Rayne set the mug down on a coaster, not sure she trusted herself to keep holding it.

Done in.

That’s how she felt.

All she wanted to do was lie back, close her eyes and try to forget the pounding pain.

“I think it’s time to say goodnight,” Chance said, and Rayne realized she’d closed her eyes, was slumping forward.

If she slumped any farther, she’d be facedown on the floor.

She straightened, nodded. “You’re right. Sleep is about all I seem capable of.”

“I’ll head out then. If you’re up to it, I’ll stop by tomorrow. I have a few questions I’d like to ask when you’re feeling better.”

“Questions about what?”

“The accident.”

“I don’t remember it, so any questions will be impossible to answer.”

“I know, but you were working with one of my clients last night. You’d told my mother you’d be back by five. When you didn’t show, she called me, and I called the client who said you’d asked for directions to the airport before you’d left.”

“I did?” She couldn’t remember, and trying to push through the fog, grab the memories and hold on to them made her feel sick and disoriented.

“That’s how I was able to find you. I retraced the route to the airport and spotted your car in the ravine. Do you have any idea if you were expecting a friend or family member to fly in?”

“I … really don’t know.” It was possible, though. She couldn’t remember anything after leaving Arizona, but she remembered everything prior to that. Remembered all her friends who’d promised to come for a visit.

Maybe one of them had.

Thoughts swirled and whirled, images flying through her brain too quickly to grasp.

Darkness.

Bright light.

Fear.

The accident?

“It’s possible, but if I’d picked someone up at the airport, wouldn’t he or she have been with me in the car?”

“Maybe you didn’t make it to the airport. The police think you lost control going around a curve in the road. The pavement was covered with a sheet of ice, so it’s impossible to know which direction you were heading.”

“Then whoever was waiting would have called to find out why I wasn’t there, right?”

“For someone with a concussion, you’re thinking fast. Want to check your cell phone?” He smiled, handing her a familiar black purse.

Finally, something she remembered.

Of course, she’d had it for a couple of years, so that wasn’t such good news after all.

She pulled out her cell phone, scrolled through her call history. “The last call came in at five last evening. It’s not a number I know.”

“That would have been a few minutes before your meeting. How about we call and see who it is?”

“Okay.” But concentrating on the numbers made her head spin, and she handed him the phone and leaned back against the couch cushions.

“You’re done in. Tomorrow will be soon enough. I’m going to write down the number, though. I have a friend in the police department who might be able to trace it for us. I’ll give him a call and see what he can come up with.”

“It would be a lot easier if I could just remember.”

“Memories or not, we’ll figure out what happened.”

“We?” She looked into his eyes, felt a quicksilver moment of awareness, knew that she’d looked into his eyes before, been drawn into his gaze.

“Why not?”

Because she had a feeling spending time with Chance could be dangerous. Because she could get lost looking into his eyes and forget all the reasons why relationships weren’t for her. Because she had three rules—three perfectly good rules—for heart-healthy living, and there was no way she planned to break any of them.

“I … don’t know.”

“Then how about we just go with it for now?” He patted her knee, the warmth of his palm seeping through her slacks and into her chilled flesh.

The rules, Rayne. Don’t forget about the rules.

But they were hard to remember with her head pounding and her stomach churning. Hard to remember when she was looking into Chance’s eyes, feeling the warmth of his touch. She wanted to lean on him. She really did. And that terrified her.

“Since I’m too tired to argue, I guess we will.” She tried to smile, knew it fell flat. She needed him to leave before she threw herself into his arms and begged for him to stay.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Chance asked, and she nodded, because she had no choice. Emma depended on her.

A welcome responsibility, even if it was a heavy one.

A responsibility Michael hadn’t wanted.

His response to Emma had taught Rayne just how careful she needed to be with her heart. Not just because she didn’t want it broken again, but because she couldn’t risk Emma attaching to a man who would turn his back and walk away when things got tough.

Rayne closed her eyes, wishing she could block out pain and worry as easily as she could block out the sight of Chance.

“Good night.” Fingers brushed her cheek, there and gone so quickly she wondered if she’d imagined them. A door opened, cold air whipping into the room before it clicked shut again.

And then she was alone.

Just Rayne and her thoughts.

Fun.

She shifted so she was lying down, her head on a throw pillow, the blanket clutched around her shoulders.

She’d wanted her new life to be fun, exciting and filled with adventure, but a car accident, a concussion and amnesia were more of an adventure than she’d bargained for.

“You could cut me a break, Lord,” she whispered, then became aware of the muted sound of a woman singing drifting into the room.

Lila singing Emma to sleep?

It had to be.

The knowledge warmed her.

Perhaps her prayer had been answered before she’d even uttered it.

Rayne had fallen far before she’d moved to Spokane, her once-charmed life crumbling around her. But as she listened to Lila’s quiet singing, felt the comforting warmth of the old farmhouse settling around her, she couldn’t help thinking that in the midst of all the falling, God had found her a very soft place to land.