She shuddered. No, no one would know she was here.
But Reeve had been asking questions, even though she’d told him she had no family. He might give her away.
Not intentionally. He had saved her. He had, for the most part, acted sympathetic. Surely he was just curious. Trying to help. He wouldn’t put her in jeopardy now, if he knew better.
Unless…She shook her head so sharply that pain shot behind her injured forehead, and she groaned softly. Reeve Snyder couldn’t know her family. Not way out here.
She couldn’t let paranoia get the better of her.
She didn’t dare forget she was always in danger.
For the moment, she was trapped. But as soon as she was well enough, she would leave this place.
Awkwardly, despite her soreness and the IV in her arm, she reached out to pick up the TV remote. It was midafternoon, between most news broadcasts. Fortunately, the hospital had cable. Keeping the volume low, she channel surfed till she found a cable news channel, where two commentators discussed the latest Middle East peace talks. Polly pressed the mute button and settled back in the bed.
She awoke a short while later when the nurse returned, arms filled with newspapers. “Couldn’t find them all,” she said. “But I think most of the comic sections are here.”
Comic…oh, yes. That had been her excuse. “Thanks.”
“In case you want to know more about the area, I brought the community paper, too—the Selborn Peak Standard. It’s got mostly store ads and classifieds, but it’s trying to get a reputation for local news stories.”
For the next half hour, Polly poured through the papers, focusing on the Denver Post. One issue was dated the day after the event that had made her flee her home. None of them carried anything about it.
Maybe that wasn’t surprising. Colorado was a long way from Connecticut. Still, what had happened, and to whom, could easily have made national news—if her family had so chosen. The way they decided to play things would be a message to her—provided that she could figure out the right interpretation.
If nothing got into the news, that would mean they had determined to keep it as much of a nonevent as they could. They would want her to return home as though nothing had happened. As long as she stayed quiet and became a good little girl once more, everything would be fine.
If the story were publicized, though, she would have to see how it was handled to determine the message. And if—
A knock sounded on the door, and she jumped a little, startled. She looked up to find Dr. Reeve Snyder standing there.
His tall form filled the doorway. He was again dressed in a lab coat that did nothing to hide the width of his shoulders. Its bright whiteness set off the gingery color of his thick, neatly combed hair.
For a physician who wasn’t her doctor, he certainly showed up a lot.
And for a woman who didn’t want any connection with anyone, who wanted no questions asked about her, she certainly was glad to see him. Polly found herself smiling warmly despite the way he had left earlier.
“Mind if we come in?” he asked. “I want to introduce you to someone.”
“Sure, Dr.—uh, Reeve.”
She tried to interpret the look on his face as he stood at the door. The steep angles of his dark ginger eyebrows seemed to signify anger, yet there was a longing in his eyes.
Strange, Polly thought. And wrong.
She of all people shouldn’t try to read others’ minds from their faces. She had been so mistaken before.
Their eyes met then, his a deep, golden brown. The shadows disappeared for a moment. There was something in his expression that seemed to toss a silken line between Polly and him, connecting them.
No. That couldn’t be. She made herself blink, and the connection was gone. She looked down at the newspapers beside her. How ridiculous she was being! He was the doctor who had saved Laurel and her. He probably saved a life every morning before breakfast, two more on Sundays. If he looked or sounded familiar, it didn’t mean anything. She was nothing special to him.
When she dared to glance up again, he had turned to say something to the person behind him. Her heart skipped a beat. What if whomever he brought was…
Silly. She was way off in the wilds of Colorado, for heaven’s sake. And Reeve’s presence would be a buffer, no matter who he was talking to.
Keeping her voice low so as not to wake the baby, Polly tried to put her nervousness aside. “Sorry things are such a mess, but I’ve just been reading.” She pushed aside some newspapers and smoothed the sheet over her awkwardly short hospital gown, wishing she had a long robe on instead.
Not that it mattered, of course. Nothing had passed between them before. Yet, for that one moment, his gaze had seemed to wrap around and hug her.
How absurd she was being!
“Glad you’re feeling up to a little reading.” Reeve finally strode into the room, an appealing sureness to his walk.
The man accompanying him was much shorter than him, and his T-shirt and tight, stained blue jeans revealed a wiry build. “This is Ernie Pride,” Reeve said. “He’s the one who saw you go off the road and called me.”
Polly offered her hand to Ernie, ignoring the soreness the motion caused. His grip was strong, and she thought she smelled a whiff of paint. “Thanks,” she said sincerely. “From both of us.” She gestured toward the bassinet where Laurel slept.
“You’re welcome.” Ernie bent to look at the baby. “She’s a little beauty, isn’t she?”
Polly beamed.
“Bet her daddy’s going to be right proud of her,” Ernie continued.
Polly felt her smile freeze, and she darted a glance at Reeve. His expression remained blank, but she could sense disapproval radiating from him like heat from a sun-baked sidewalk. Why should that bother her so much? She didn’t care what he thought.
She forced herself to shrug. “Oh, her daddy divorced me when I became pregnant. She’s just my baby.” And that would be the way it would stay, Reeve Snyder and his unexplained displeasure with her notwithstanding.
No matter how badly—and incongruously—that displeasure hurt her.
“I’d be surprised at any father who wouldn’t want to know about the birth of his child,” Reeve said. His tone was mild, but his eyes had narrowed, and a shadow again darkened them. “Don’t you think someone ought to inform him?”
Like you? Polly thought, beginning to panic. This angry, curious man might be trying to find the baby’s father—and in the process he could learn something about her. And that could only end in disaster.
She made herself shrug again, praying she looked nonchalant. “Well, Dr. Snyder,” she improvised, “not that it’s any of your business, but just guess why a man would
