A Dad At Last. Marie Ferrarella

affection. How touching,” she mocked. “Maybe we should have asked for more than five million, Petey. Looks like the daddy of the year would have been willing to fork it over.”

      Connor knew he had to get Chase away from Janelle. The plan couldn’t go forward as long as the baby was in danger.

      Tired, anxious, Petey looked at his wife. What was she trying to do? They had what they came for within their reach. Why was she playing games? “Damn it, Janelle, just give him the kid.”

      The exasperated look on her face cut him dead. It told him what a fool she thought he was. “Take the case first, you idiot.”

      Connor handed the suitcase to Petey.

      Eagerness replaced anger. Petey dropped to the ground, placing the suitcase before him. Hands shaking, he opened it. Cross words were forgotten as he looked over his shoulder at Janelle. “It’s here. You were right. It’s all here.”

      Janelle stepped forward to see for herself. The suitcase was filled with neat stacks of carefully bound bills, all facing in the same direction. “We won’t know if it’s all there until we count it.”

      “It’s all there,” Connor told her through tight lips. “I wouldn’t endanger the life of my son.”

      Her expression was smug. “No, you wouldn’t. All right, close the case and get on your feet, Petey.” He did as she ordered. “Aim the gun at his belly. Anything goes wrong, shoot him and then the baby.”

      With a mocking smile on her lips, she handed Connor his son.

      Taking Chase into his arms, he had no time to wonder at this newfound fatherhood or unwrap and examine any of the emotions that were sweeping over him as he felt the weight of his son in his arms for the very first time.

      It was now or never.

      Moving swiftly, Connor pushed Janelle out of his way and ducked into the protective shelter of the sugar factory.

      In the background, the sound of shouting was followed by a single exchange of gunfire.

      CHAPTER ONE

      “IF YOU KNOT those fingers together any tighter, we’re going to have to call in one of the doctors from the hospital to surgically untangle them.”

      Startled, lost in her thoughts, Lacy Clark looked up to see Megan Maitland standing beside her in the living room, smiling compassionately at her. She hadn’t heard the older woman approach.

      Self-consciously, Lacy realized that she’d been knotting and unknotting her hands, an outward sign of the inner turmoil that had been going on for what seemed like half an eternity. Ever since Connor and the others had left to meet the kidnappers.

      She’d pleaded to go with them so she could see what was happening firsthand instead of having her imagination run riot. But Connor had insisted that having her there would put them all at risk, so she’d agreed to stay behind, dying a little more with each tick of the grandfather clock in the hall.

      “Sorry,” she murmured.

      Lacy dropped her hands to her sides. Her fingers might no longer be tangled, but that didn’t relieve the knot in her stomach. She couldn’t stand being in the dark like this anymore. She’d been in the dark for so long now, about so many things, this added uncertainty was almost intolerable.

      Where were they? Where was her son?

      Pressing her lips together, she looked toward the door. Her whole world was out there somewhere, beyond her reach. Beyond her ability to do anything about it. Somewhere, lost in the night, was the baby who had been missing from her life these past eleven months while she’d wandered through a haze of amnesia, thanks to Janelle. The baby who could very well continue to be missing forever if Connor and the others didn’t succeed with their plan.

      What would she do if she never saw Chase again? Her heart felt as if it was twisting around in her chest.

      “You’ve nothing to be sorry about.” Megan gave Lacy’s hand a warm squeeze, knowing what the young mother must be going through. “They’ll bring him back to you, I promise.”

      They’d set up vigil here in the Maitland house, Megan, her daughter Abby, her daughter-in-law Camille, Shelby Lord and Lacy, to wait for the men who had gone to retrieve that one small, lost child and bring him safely back.

      To bring back the grandson Megan hadn’t found a way to acknowledge yet. Not without upsetting life as everyone here knew it. A life that had already suffered so many storms, so many onslaughts these last few months. It seemed almost more than one family could endure.

      But they would. That was what made them strong and made them Maitlands.

      “And if that scum manages to escape somehow,” Abby said to Lacy as she came up on her other side, “there isn’t a rock in this state big enough for Janelle and Petey to crawl under. We’ll find them, Lacy. I promise.” She added her vow to her mother’s.

      Shelby joined the tight group, her indignation at the kidnapping riding another fresh wave. Both her brothers, Michael and Garrett, were with Connor tonight. She laid one hand on Lacy’s shoulder and one on Abby’s. “Hell, with our combined resources and efforts, we could find a red ant in a mile-wide strawberry patch. One bitch, her henchman and a baby shouldn’t be any problem.”

      “We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Camille softly warned them. She looked at Lacy. “There isn’t any reason to believe that Jake, Connor and the others haven’t been successful.”

      Lacy knew what they were trying to do and she was grateful to all of them. But it still didn’t quell the uneasiness she felt. The uneasiness that continued to grow.

      “If they’ve been successful, why haven’t they called?” She heard herself demanding.

      Strong, terse, the voice hardly seemed to belong to her. But she’d been through a great deal these past few months.

      This last year and then some, she amended mentally. She’d had Connor’s baby in secret, only to be forced to leave him on the doorstep of Maitland Maternity Clinic for his own good. And she’d lost eleven months out of her life when Janelle had assaulted her in that alley behind the hospital, leaving her for dead. Leaving her to wander through the misty, cottony world of amnesia when she came to, with no knowledge of herself or the child she’d left unguarded.

      Lacy looked accusingly at the silent telephone on the coffee table. “Why isn’t the phone ringing right now?” It didn’t seem like an unreasonable request. “There’re five of them. One of them’s got to have a cell phone—or change for a public phone.” She knew the answer to her own question. “They’re not calling because something went wrong.”

      Watching Lacy, sharing her agony, Megan felt her heart contract.

      She’d been like that once, Megan thought. Forty-six years ago, pregnant, unmarried and deserted by her baby’s father, she’d been just like Lacy. Scared, frightened and not knowing where to turn. So she had turned inward and somehow found the will to go on. Like Lacy, she would have kept her baby once he was born. But unlike Lacy, someone she’d trusted with all her heart had taken her baby from her at the moment of birth and lied to her. A lie that would come back to haunt her.

      Her father had told her that the son she’d had as a result of a young, impetuous romantic interlude with Clyde Mitchum had been stillborn. After she’d cried an ocean of tears, she’d pulled herself together and found the strength to continue. Not just continue but eventually win the heart of William Maitland and, with him, forge a dynasty of her own.

      Now that wonderful family she and her late husband had created were there to offer their support to her whenever she needed them.

      Megan couldn’t help wondering how far that support could be stretched. Once they knew Connor was not her long-estranged nephew but rather her long-lost son, would that support break down? Or would it rally and grow stronger still for the adversity the situation represented?