He would also find out who her father was, if for no other reason than to satisfy his own curiosity.
He was about to make an excuse and leave when a nurse came in, followed by an aide pushing a wheelchair. “Are you ready to get out of here, Katy-bug?” she asked cheerfully, pretending not to notice that the girl didn’t answer. “Fiona, do you have some clothes for her?”
“No. I—I didn’t think…”
“That’s okay. She can go home in her gown and take a blanket. We’ll trust you to return them,” the nurse said with a wink. “You’ve signed all the paperwork, haven’t you?”
Fiona nodded.
“So all you need is your ride. Do you have your car here?”
“No. I…” She looked at Justin, silently asking if the offer still stood.
He didn’t renege. “I’m taking them home.”
“You’re Golda’s nephew, aren’t you? I’m sorry about her death.” The nurse gave him an appraising look that turned into an appreciative smile. “We all thought she exaggerated about her nephew the ATF agent. Now I see she didn’t tell the half of it.”
Justin made a weak gesture that he hoped resembled a smile, then turned to Fiona. “I’ll get the car and meet you at the front entrance.”
He left the room and, too impatient to wait for the elevator, took the stairs to the lobby. It was cold outside, the air fresher, sweeter, than it ever smelled in D.C. He filled his lungs, replacing the hospital smells, as he crossed the lot to his rental.
By the time Fiona approached the entrance with Katy in her arms, he was parked out front and leaning against the car. The nurse had ditched the aide and the wheelchair and instead pushed a cart filled with flowers, balloons and gifts. “I offered them both a ride in the wheelchair,” she said as Justin opened the car door, “but they turned me down. Maybe I could interest you instead.”
Justin caught the mocking look that stole across Fiona’s face as she bent to slide Katy into the middle of the back seat, and tried to ignore the heat that crept into his own face. “Not right now, I’m afraid. Sorry.”
With a good-natured laugh, the woman picked up an armful of the cart’s contents. “Want these in back with you, Katy-bug?”
Fiona tried to straighten, but with a wail, Katy grabbed hold tightly. “I’m going to sit beside you, babe,” she assured her, “but I can’t get in if you don’t let go.”
Hiding a vague disappointment, Justin circled to the driver’s side. Over the roof of the car, the nurse grinned and gave him a sly wink. “Guess all the cuddly creatures get to ride up front with you. That would certainly be my first choice.”
Smiling weakly, he slid inside and helped her arrange flowers, plants and stuffed animals in the seat and floor-board. In back, Fiona fastened her seat belt, then wrapped her arms around Katy. Immediately the wails quieted, and the girl settled contentedly against her.
And no wonder. He knew from past experience that in Fiona’s arms was a damned sweet place to be.
Not that he was likely to ever be there again.
“Do you need to stop anywhere? Grocery store? Pharmacy?” he asked as he pulled away.
“No. We just want to go home.” In a voice not intended for his ears, he suspected, she added, “We should have gone to Denver.”
“You had plans to be in Denver this weekend?”
“No. But I thought about it at the church Friday—about picking up Katy from the baby-sitter and going off to the city until—”
Until he was gone, he silently finished for her. Then Katy wouldn’t have been digging in the yard and he never would have known that Watkins had been in the area. It would have been too bad if he’d never known, but it certainly wasn’t worth Katy getting hurt.
She didn’t say anything else, and neither did he. Within minutes he was pulling into Golda’s driveway. Fiona got out with Katy and started for her door. He filled his arms with flowers and animals and followed. By the time she’d juggled daughter and purse to find her keys, he’d joined them on the porch. He waited until she’d opened the door, then set everything on the hall table before returning to the car for more.
When he brought the last load in, they were standing in the living-room doorway, watching. Katy reached out as he passed, snatching the polar bear and making her mother’s jaw tighten. Did she hate him so much that she couldn’t bear to see her daughter with the toy he’d bought?
Not that she didn’t have good reason to hate him.
He set down the last of the vases, then shoved his hands into his pockets. “About…what happened before…” Bitterness flared in her eyes, and he felt a corresponding surge of guilt. “I—I’m sorry. I never meant…”
“A word you said.” Her smile was cold, a world apart from the sweet, sexy smiles she’d once given him, and it was edged with hurt. “I figured that out.”
That wasn’t true. When he’d talked about marrying her, he’d really wanted to. When he’d told her he loved her, he’d meant it with all his heart. Unfortunately, back at work, in the real world and too far from her, it hadn’t seemed such a sure thing. Reality had set in. Doubt. Fear.
“I handled things badly—”
“No kidding.”
“—and I’m sorry. You deserved better than that.”
“And I still do.” She moved past him to open the door, then pointedly waited for him to leave.
He had no choice but to go. But he felt empty as he walked out the door. As if he might have lost more all those years ago than he could afford to lose.
Fiona awakened Monday morning with the weight of the world on her chest. Breathing was difficult, and there was a distinct pain in her ribs. But when she opened her eyes, her first response was a smile. It wasn’t the weight of the world. It was merely Katy, stretched out on top of her, head tucked under her chin, knee pressing against her ribs. She freed one arm from the covers, then stroked her daughter’s silky hair. She had crawled up in the tree-house bed with her last night, had told her stories, sung her songs and held her until she was sound asleep. She’d hoped Katy would stay there, sleeping through the night, but obviously not.
As she eased out from under her daughter, the doorbell rang. A glance at the clock showed that it was barely daytime—only seven thirty-five—and far too early for visitors, which meant it was probably her mother. Delores had a key and would ring only once before letting herself in. If it was anyone else, they could wait until a decent hour, and if it was Justin… When hell froze over sounded reasonable.
The front door creaked, then footsteps sounded on the stairs. A moment later, Delores came through the door. “Hey, sleepyhead. How’s my baby?”
“She’s okay.” Fiona scooted up to lean against the head-board, then dragged her fingers through her hair. “What are you doing out and about so early?”
“Roger
