A Father For Her Baby Read online

  Table of Contents

  Cover Page

  Excerpt

  Dearreader

  Title Page

  Dedication

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Copyright

  She put her son in the man’s arms

  Their lives were now in his hands, whether Kit liked it or not. Luke St. John had seen to that.

  She studied his face as she watched him with her son, amazed at the change in Luke. Had this been what he was like before his brother’s death? The lines of his ruggedly attractive face softer somehow, less darkness in the gray of his eyes. Yes, she thought. Watching him now cradling her baby, she could almost convince herself that the other Luke St. John, the man whose handsome features had been so rigid, gray eyes so cold, had never existed. But she glimpsed a sadness in Luke that seemed to pierce his very soul. And she knew the man in him out for justice would be back, and probably before long.

  Dear Reader,

  Three of your favorite Intrigue writers have joined together to bring you this special, brand-new LOST & FOUND trilogy.

  Three women go into labor in the same Texas hospital, and shortly after the babies are born, fire erupts. Though each mother and baby make it to safety, there’s more than the mystery of birth to solve now…

  Last month Amanda Stevens led off with Somebody’s Baby; this month it’s B. J. Daniels with A Father for Her Baby. B.J. loved going back to Texas, even if it was only for the book. She says, “I loved the smell of the Gulf sea air, eating some gumbo and sitting under an oak in the shade. I’ve never forgotten my Texas roots or lost all my Southern accent. I have relatives in Texas who make the greatest gumbo and brag that Texas is bigger than Montana. But, like my characters, my home is Montana, not far from Big Sky, where I can snowboard in the winters and boat in the summers. I do miss the gumbo, though.”

  Don’t miss the exciting conclusion to LOST & FOUND next month in Carla Cassidy’s A Father’s Love.

  Happy reading!

  Debra Matteucci

  Senior Editor & Editorial Coordinator

  Harlequin Books

  300 East 42nd Street

  New York, NY 10017

  A Father for Her Baby

  B. J. Daniels

  This is for my brother, Charles Allen Johnson.

  Here’s wishing all your dreams come true. A woman you

  can love. A life that makes you happy. And above all the

  freedom to enjoy what you love most. Good luck, little

  brother. I’m rooting for you.

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Kit Bannack Killhorn—She’s running for her life with only one thought in mind—protecting her baby.

  Luke St. John—He has sworn to avenge his brother’s death, and Kit Bannack Killhorn is going to help him one way or another.

  Derrick Killhorn—He will stop at nothing to find Kit and the baby and bring them back to Montana.

  Jason St. John—What kind of trouble did he stumble into that he just couldn’t walk away from?

  Lucille Johnson—She’s the best cook in Texas and is cooking up something for Kit and her baby.

  Belinda Killhorn—Is Derrick’s ex-wife telling the truth or does she have her own ax to grind?

  Sanders Killhorn—He’s always been his brother’s keeper. But could even he save his brother this time?

  Chapter One

  “Don’t tell me you haven’t found her,” the angry voice bellowed on the other end of the phone line.

  That was the last thing Sanders Killhorn wanted to tell his brother, Derrick.

  “A woman that pregnant can’t have just disappeared into thin air,” Derrick snapped.

  But Derrick’s wife had done exactly that. Disappeared. Seven months of searching, and Sanders had found no trace of Kit. He crossed the room to the motel window, dragging the phone with him, and peered out. The sun hung on the Dallas skyline, fiery red. As red as Kit’s hair.

  “What about the guy who said he’d seen her in Texas City?” Derrick demanded.

  “I talked to him.” Behind Sanders, only the flickering television screen lit the nondescript motel room as another day dissolved into darkness and defeat. “He was only interested in the reward. He didn’t know anything.”

  Derrick swore loudly. “I won’t rest until I find my son.”

  His son? Sanders felt a chill. Derrick had no way of knowing if Kit had given birth to a boy. His brother’s obsession with having a son scared him—just as it had Kit. Was that why she’d taken off?

  “Someone has to have seen her,” Derrick said. “Maybe she’s cut her hair or dyed it.”

  Sanders couldn’t imagine Kit doing either. But then, he couldn’t imagine her taking off like she’d done, at nine months’ pregnant. Hadn’t she known Derrick would never stop looking for her? Especially with her carrying his baby?

  Sanders had tracked her from the Bozeman, Montana bus station, where she’d abandoned Derrick’s truck, as far as the Dallas, Texas bus station. After that, she had vanished.

  He’d checked every bus, train and airplane. And all the hospitals within a two-hundred-mile radius. No Kit Bannack Killhorn had given birth. At least not under her real name. Nor had anyone matching her description.

  He’d also checked birth certificates for a two-month period. No Bannack. No Killhorn. Even the private investigator his brother had hired had come up empty-handed.

  Sanders had grown weary of looking for his sister-in-law and wanted more than anything to return home to Montana. Especially with Christmas just days away.

  “Something has to have happened to her,” Derrick was saying. “Maybe she was in an accident and can’t remember—”

  The rest of his brother’s words were lost as Sanders caught a familiar image out of the corner of his eye. He turned to stare at the television screen.

  Kit’s face stared back.

  IN A MOTEL ROOM across from Sanders’s room, Luke stared at the same newscast, the same face on the TV screen, the same woman he’d also been chasing for seven months.

  Just moments before, Luke had been electronically eavesdropping on Sanders’s conversation with Derrick Killhorn and calling himself a fool. All this time, he’d been shadowing Sanders, hoping the man and his resources would lead him to Kit. But he was beginning to doubt even the great Killhorns could find the woman. And even if they did, Luke couldn’t be sure she had the answers he so desperately needed.

  He was ready to give up, admit he’d been wrong. He was sick of motel rooms, rental cars and eating out of foam containers. He was sick of tailing Sanders, and he damned sure hadn’t done any good finding Kit on his own.

  When her face flashed on the television screen, Luke gaped in disbelief, adrenaline singing through his veins. I was right. Dammit, I was right. He felt a jolt of satisfaction, followed quickly by fear and regret so strong that he could taste it. Dear God, I was right.

  He kicked up the volume on the TV.

  “…after an arsonist started a fire that destroyed the small private Galveston hospital last June.”

  Kit sat wrapped in a hospital blanket, th
e blazing building behind her. Her eyes caught the camera; her hand went up to shield her face from view. The image lasted only a few seconds, then was gone.

  Luke cursed as he realized the newscast wasn’t about Kit, but about a woman whose kidnapped baby had been returned to her.

  What did any of that have to do with Kit?

  A doctor came on the screen. Dr. Bernard explained that three women had given birth on June third at the Galveston hospital just before the fire broke out. The mothers and their babies had been evacuated separately. It wasn’t until later that authorities realized one of the babies had been kidnapped. The arson was still under investigation.

  Luke felt his breath rush out of him. Kit. She had to be one of the mothers who’d given birth that night. That’s why her face had been on the old file tape about the hospital fire back in June.

  Luke shook his head in amazement. No wonder he and Sanders hadn’t been able to find her. A hospital fire. That explained why no one at the area hospitals remembered Kit Killhorn.

  Luke turned off the TV and stared at the empty screen, his heart pounding. He couldn’t get the image of Kit out of his head. The stark terror in her eyes. The way she’d tried to hide from the camera. This lady was running scared. But what was she fleeing from? What had sent her hightailing it out of Montana? He couldn’t wait to ask her.

  ACROSS TOWN, Kit leaned over her son’s crib and lovingly pulled the soft blanket up to Andy’s dimpled chin. With warm fingers, she brushed his blond hair back from his angelic face and smiled down at him. She loved looking at him, and spent hours doing just that.

  He’d had a big day today and she knew he must be exhausted. She was, after following him in all his explorations. It amazed her how quickly he learned, how quickly he changed. Over the last six and a half months she’d watched him grow, marveling at it all from his first smile and laugh to the first time he’d rolled over and crawled.

  She’d named him Andrew, after her father. Unfortunately, she’d been unable to give him her father’s last name, Bannack. Nor had she used Killhorn. Either name would only have led Derrick to them. So she’d lied, providing fake names for the birth certificate to keep her baby safe.

  Kit turned on the television in the room she shared with her son, hoping to catch the news and see if the predicted storm off the gulf had materialized.

  But when the news came on, she found herself staring in confusion at the screen. Her face. What was she doing on TV? Old footage from the night of the fire! She remembered her terror that night when she’d seen the television news crew. Surely they hadn’t ever shown this particular news clip before, or Derrick would have found her.

  Her heart thudded. Why in God’s name were they showing it now? Had the arsonist been found? Or was this about that poor woman whose baby had been kidnapped?

  “After almost seven long months, Nina Fairchild and her son Dustin have been reunited,” the newscaster said.

  Kit felt a wave of relief. She’d silently feared that the kidnapper had taken the wrong baby the night of the fire—that Derrick had tracked her and Andy, and mistakenly stolen Nina’s son.

  Now the Fairchild baby was safe. Kit felt such gratitude that she hadn’t caused the poor woman’s pain. But at the same time, the newscast shattered any illusion that Kit could evade her past.

  All these months, she’d hidden, terrified that Derrick would find her and Andy. As she’d watched her son grow and flourish, she’d convinced herself she’d done the right thing. Including lying to Dr. Bernard to get her job as a nanny. And lying to Tim Anderson so he’d pay her cash and there’d be no record of her employment.

  But the moment she saw her face on TV, she knew she hadn’t hidden well enough. She couldn’t take the chance that Derrick hadn’t seen the newscast somehow. Or at least hadn’t heard about it.

  She looked down at her son sleeping peacefully in his crib. Her heart thrummed with the sound of his rhythmic breathing. Tears welled in her eyes—tears of fear, anger and regret. She wiped at them, filled with another emotion, this one stronger than all the others put together: the need to protect her son. It felt almost primitive. She would give her life for Andy’s.

  She covered her son with a blanket and wondered if she would ever be able to find a place where they would be safe. As she began to pack, the answer chilled in her heart, filling her with terror.

  As long as Derrick Killhorn was after her, no safe place existed.

  Chapter Two

  Luke wasn’t surprised the next morning when he tailed Sanders to the office of Dr. Bernard, the obstetrician who’d probably delivered Kit’s baby.

  Only minutes later, Sanders came out smiling. And Luke had to give him credit. He’d gotten the information—and fast. Luke figured Sanders had greased a few palms: that would be the Killhorn way.

  Luke waited, knowing the moment Sanders got into his rental car that he’d call his brother.

  “I’ve got her,” Sanders said excitedly into the cell phone. “She’s working as a nanny in Galveston. I’m headed there now.”

  Luke would have loved to hear what Derrick was saying, because he was obviously giving Sanders instructions—long, detailed ones.

  “Well, you know her better than I do,” Sanders said, sounding dubious. “Okay. Sure, I can do that. Huntsville? No, don’t worry, I can convince her. All right, I’ll meet you up at the airport, one way or the other.”

  Convince her to what? Luke wondered. Whatever it was, he didn’t like the sound of it.

  He followed Sanders at a safe distance into an old Galveston neighborhood with its neat rows of oncelavish houses. The sun hung high, the day was hot and humid, a sure sign of an approaching storm. But that was the least of Luke’s worries. He had to get to Kit—before Derrick did.

  Luke parked where he could watch Sanders approach the house and ring the doorbell. The house was large and sat on at least an acre of wooded land. Secluded, Luke thought. Ideal for his purposes.

  And Sanders’s?

  He watched Sanders ring the bell again and wait. No one appeared at the door.

  Luke swore under his breath. What if Kit had also seen the news program on television last night—and had taken off again? And just when he was so close.

  Luke saw Sanders turn as if he’d heard something in the backyard. As Sanders started around the side of the building, Luke climbed out of the car with his equipment and headed into the trees beside the house.

  The oaks had grown large and thick, making a perfect place to hide. Luke put on the headset and picked up the sound of a baby whimpering.

  Through the branches, he could make out a woman with two infants in a double baby stroller on a patio in the shade of a large old oak. She was bent over, cooing softly to the fussing infant, when Sanders walked up behind her.

  “Hi, Kit,” Sanders said.

  The woman jumped as if he’d touched her with a cattle prod. She spun around, fright evident in every line of her body. Even from this distance, Luke could see that she was ready to run. What in God’s name had happened in Montana to make her this afraid?

  Luke feared he already knew the answer.

  “WHERE’S DERRICK?” Kit cried, fighting back a scream as her gaze leaped to look behind Sanders. “Where is he?” She reached for the stroller, her only thought to get the babies inside to safety.

  “Kit, I’m here alone.” Sanders had moved toward her, but stopped and held his hands out, palms up. She tightened her grip on the stroller, ready to run if she had to. “I’m here to help you.”

  “Help me? Derrick sent you to find me.” She knew that Sanders acted as mediator, keeping peace and settling little problems for his older brother, and had since they were boys. Why else would he be here now?

  “Kit, I’ve been worried sick about you,” Sanders said. “I’m so glad I finally found you.”

  “How did you find me?” she said, glancing past him, afraid Derrick would appear at any moment.

  “I saw you on TV last night.”
>
  Just as she’d feared. “I’d hoped Derrick had stopped looking for me.”

  Sanders smiled sadly, as if her innocence amazed him. “Kit, why did you run away in the first place?”

  Didn’t he know? She edged a little closer to the house.

  “I’m not here to hurt you. You can tell me what’s going on. I’m your friend.”

  She looked into his eyes and saw the same kindness she’d always seen there. Sanders had been her only friend in Big Sky. The only one Derrick allowed her.

  “Are we friends?” she asked. “You’re Derrick’s brother. You work for him. I’m sure that’s why you’re here.”

  “That’s not the only reason.” He glanced into the stroller at the baby in blue. “I heard I have a nephew. He’s adorable, Kit.”

  She nodded, her pride in her son hard to contain. At one time, she’d been excited at the prospect of Sanders being an uncle to her baby. She’d wanted Andy to have the family she’d never had.

  “What’s his name?” Sanders asked.

  “Andrew. After my father.” She saw disapproval in Sanders’s eyes. Derrick had been determined the baby would be a boy—and would be named Derrick Killhorn Junior.

  “Derrick’s out of his mind with worry.”

  “I’m sure he is,” she said. “But not for the reasons you might think.”

  “Kit, what’s going on? The last time I saw you was at the clinic. You were thrilled because the doctor had said you’d be having the baby within the week. The next thing I know, you’ve taken off without a word.”

  Kit’s young charge began to whimper again, and she knelt down in front of the stroller to check her, at the same time watching Sanders out of the corner of her eye. What did she think he’d do? Grab Andy and take off with him? That was more Derrick’s style than Sanders’s.