know her name. They were no longer her little ones. They were adults, and unaware of her existence.
Or maybe not. Had Megan Maitland given them her gifts? Given them her message? She’d sent the three little sweaters she’d made herself all those years ago, each embroidered with a triplet’s name, and she’d tucked in Garrett’s teddy, the one she’d used as her only comfort over the years.
It didn’t matter, she told herself bleakly. She’d sent them. That was enough. They were tokens to tell them that they were loved—nothing more. These lovely young adults, smiling at her from the newsprint, were no longer part of her life. She’d forfeited her right to know them when she’d abandoned them as babies all those years ago.
But she couldn’t stop gazing at the pictures, question after question forming in her heart. Did they know she’d had no choice? Did they realize that once Gary had died, there’d been so many debts, so little money—no support at all—that to keep them would have been cruel? Did they judge her harshly?
Or could they sense that the cruelest cut had been to her—to walk away from their lives and leave the loving to strangers?
She loved them still. How could she not? But she was their mother by birth only. They had no need of her.
But… Dear Lord, she needed them.
And Michael. What was wrong with Michael?
CHAPTER ONE
GRAY SUITS were Gray Suits, no matter which side of the world they were on. Jenny saw them coming from a mile off and panicked in style.
As secretary to Michael Lord, head of security at Austin’s Maitland Maternity Clinic, she was used to people arriving at her desk. Staff, patients, cops and media—she knew them all and welcomed them with cheerful efficiency.
But not Gray Suits. Not when they were coming for her.
They hadn’t seen her yet. They’d stopped at reception and were asking directions. Peggy was smiling and pointing toward her door, and they were turning to look. The security offices had one-way windows, however, so staff could see the reception area without patients and visitors knowing they were being observed.
Which gave Jenny time. She had a whole ten seconds to consider her choices. Fainting? Falling to the floor in hysterics? On second thought—six seconds of second thought—maybe those choices weren’t all that useful.
There was only one option left, she figured. Escape through her boss’s office.
Michael would hate it! Bolting through his office was hardly something a professional secretary was supposed to do.
But she had no choice. She stood up, staggering a little with the weight of advanced pregnancy, and took a leap like a scared and very pregnant rabbit right through Michael’s door.
“GARRETT, this is a waste of time.” Michael Lord swiveled in his leather chair and sighed into the phone. What Garrett was arguing was water under the bridge—twenty-five years of water, in fact, since they’d been abandoned on the hospital steps as babies.
Those years hadn’t been bad, Michael decided. He, his triplet siblings and their big brother, Garrett, had been granted great adoptive parents. They had good lives in their chosen professions, with friends and family all around. The woman who’d deserted her babies so long ago obviously hadn’t wanted anything more to do with them, so why wouldn’t Garrett leave it alone?
She didn’t want them, and they didn’t want her. Simple as that.
“It wouldn’t hurt to search,” Garrett said.
“We’ve had great parents,” Michael said stubbornly. “We don’t need any more family.”
“Sometimes I don’t think you need the family you have,” Garrett snapped. “You sit there in your cold-as-ice apartment without even a dog to—”
“Are we talking about finding our birth mother or are we talking of my private life?” Michael’s voice was as harsh as his brother’s, and it was Garrett’s turn to sigh.
“So you won’t help?”
“I’ve already told you I’m not interested. And anyway, I don’t see how I can.”
“With your resources… Mike, you’ve been a cop. You have Maitland Maternity’s network behind you, and you know Megan will support us. You have contacts everywhere, and money’s hardly a problem. Look, come to dinner on Saturday night and we’ll talk about it.”
“There’s already Camille and Jake’s wedding celebration on Sunday. I don’t need any more family events this weekend.”
“Yeah, and I’ll bet you intend to stick around for the party after the wedding. Just like you did after Lana’s. Look, Mike, this is just us. Shelby’s cooking, and Lana and Dylan will bring the baby.”
Domesticity was closing in. Michael’s resolve firmed. “No way!”
“If you’re not there, you’ll be the only one of the Lord kids who’s not.”
“Tell Dylan to take my place, then. The family’s changing. Now Lana’s married—well, things aren’t the same. We don’t need each other as much.”
Funny how his gut kicked at the thought of it, Michael reflected wryly. There’d always been the four of them— Michael and Lana and Shelby, the triplets, with Garrett watching over them like a hawk. Michael hadn’t thought he minded that Lana was married. Who could, when she was so happy? But…
His gut definitely kicked.
“We’re still family,” Garrett said stubbornly. “We need to talk through our plans to find our birth mother.”
“Your plans. I told you. I’m not doing any—”
Michael stopped in astonishment.
His secretary—calm, unflappable and cheerful Jenny—crashed through the door as if the hounds of hell were after her. She shoved the door closed behind her and leaned against it, as wide-eyed and pale as Michael had ever seen her. She looked terrified.
He wasn’t head of security for nothing. Their birth mother could wait.
“Emergency,” he snapped, and dropped the phone into its cradle before Garrett had time to say another word.
ONLY IT WASN’T an emergency, or not one he could see.
Michael crossed swiftly to the window and stared out. As in Jenny’s office, his interior windows were only transparent one way. He could see Jenny’s reception area, which was empty, and the main foyer beyond.
There were a few visitors milling around reception. Nothing noteworthy there. The receptionists looked calm and unconcerned. Two innocuous men in gray suits were walking toward Jenny’s door.
The way she was acting, you’d think the men were carrying machine guns. Which was crazy.
But Michael was trained to act first and ask questions later. What he saw on Jenny’s face was terror.
