Eliza covered the hand that was holding Bonnie’s pink ribbon and gave it a gentle squeeze.
Struggling with his thoughts, Walker raised his eyes to hers again. He could feel her empathy, feel her excitement. It was as if she were telegraphing it to him somehow.
His breath caught in his throat.
Was it the emotion-packed moment that had him hallucinating this way, or was there something about this woman that spoke to him? Something that delved into his innermost being and somehow connected with what he kept hidden there?
He made no movement to withdraw his hand, enjoying, instead, the warmth. “Thank you.”
His thanks embarrassed her. She hadn’t accomplished what she’d set out to do yet. “Save that for when we find her.”
MARIE FERRARELLA
A Hero in Her Eyes
Books by Marie Ferrarella
Silhouette Intimate Moments
*Holding Out for a Hero #496
*Heroes Great and Small #501
*Christmas Every Day #538
Callaghan’s Way #601
Caitlin’s Guardian Angel #661
‡Happy New Year—Baby! #686
The Amnesiac Bride #787
Serena McKee’s Back in Town #808
A Husband Waiting To Happen #842
Angus’s Lost Lady #853
This Heart for Hire #919
††A Hero for All Seasons #932
††A Forever Kind of Hero #943
††Hero in the Nick of Time #956
‡The Once and Future Father #1017
††Hero for Hire #1042
††A Hero in Her Eyes #1059
Silhouette Yours Truly
‡The 7lb., 2oz. Valentine
Let’s Get Mommy Married
Traci on the Spot
Mommy and the Policeman Next Door
**Desperately Seeking Twin…
The Offer She Couldn’t Refuse
ΔFiona and the Sexy Stranger
ΔCowboys Are for Loving
ΔWill and the Headstrong Female
ΔThe Law and Ginny Marlow
ΔA Match for Morgan
Silhouette Special Edition
It Happened One Night #597
A Girl’s Best Friend #652
Blessing in Disguise #675
Someone To Talk To #703
World’s Greatest Dad #767
Family Matters #832
She Got Her Man #843
Baby in the Middle #892
Husband: Some Assembly Required #931
Brooding Angel #963
‡Baby’s First Christmas #997
Christmas Bride #1069
Wanted: Husband, Will Train #1132
Wife in the Mail #1217
Stand-in Mom #1294
Found: His Perfect Wife #1310
Father Most Wanted #1346
Silhouette Desire
‡Husband: Optional #988
Silhouette Romance
The Gift #588
Five-Alarm Affair #613
Heart to Heart #632
Mother for Hire #686
Borrowed Baby #730
Her Special Angel #744
The Undoing of Justin Starbuck #766
Man Trouble #815
The Taming of the Teen #839
Father Goose #869
Babies on His Mind #920
The Right Man #932
In Her Own Backyard #947
Her Man Friday #959
Aunt Connie’s Wedding #984
†Caution: Baby Ahead #1007
†Mother on the Wing #1026
†Baby Times Two #1037
Father in the Making #1078
The Women in Joe Sullivan’s Life #1096
‡Do You Take This Child? #1145
The Man Who Would Be Daddy #1175
Your Baby or Mine? #1216
**The Baby Came C.O.D. #1264
Suddenly…Marriage! #1312
‡‡One Plus One Makes Marriage #1328
‡‡Never Too Late for Love #1351
The Baby Beneath the Mistletoe #1408
Tall, Strong & Cool Under Fire #1447
Those Matchmaking Babies #1462
Silhouette Books
Silhouette Christmas Stories 1992 “The Night Santa Claus Returned”
Fortune’s Children
Forgotten Honeymoon
‡In the Family Way
World’s Most Eligible Bachelors
‡Detective Dad
‡The Baby of the Month Club: Baby Talk
The Fortunes of Texas
Expecting…In Texas
3,2,1…Married! “The Single Daddy Club”
Books by Marie Ferrarella writing as Marie Nicole
Silhouette Desire
Tried and True #112
Buyer Beware #142
Through Laughter and Tears #161
Grand Theft: Heart #182
A Woman of Integrity #197
Country Blue #224
Last Year’s Hunk #274
Foxy Lady #315
Chocolate Dreams #346
No Laughing Matter #382
Silhouette Romance
Man Undercover #373
Please Stand By #394
Mine by Write #411
Getting Physical #440
To Jessi,
The heart is an incredible muscle. It bounces back,
and to remain healthy it needs to be exercised.
If at first…
Love,
Mom
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Prologue
She was running, running because someone was after her.
She ran blindly through grass that came up to her hips, threatening to trip her as she made her way to where the oak tree stood. Her heart was pounding so hard, it blotted out the sounds of the meadow.
Reaching the oak, she stopped, panting and pressing her cheek against the coarse bark as if it were an old friend. Her only friend.
She had no friends.
She wasn’t allowed to have any. He wouldn’t let her. She wasn’t allowed to talk with anyone, couldn’t play with anyone.
She was afraid of him.
The lady tried to be nice, but she was afraid of her, too. Afraid of the wild look in the lady’s eyes. Afraid of those big hands that stroked her too hard, hugged her too close. Afraid of the lady who called her a name that wasn’t hers.
He was coming. She could feel it. Deep down in her chest, she could feel it.
Daddy, where are you? Come find me. Please!
And then she heard him.
Heard him calling her. Calling that name he told her to answer to.
“Miranda, where the hell are you?”
Hiding by the tree, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut and wished she could disappear.
But she didn’t disappear.
And he found her.
She whimpered as hands reached out and roughly snatched her from the ground.
Dragging her away.
Back to the ugly house.
Eliza bolted upright, drenched in perspiration despite the chill in the air.
Slowly, the things around her came into focus. She was in bed, in her own room.
Safe.
Gasping for air to steady her erratic pulse, she lea
ned forward and dragged her hand through her hair. That was the fifth time she’d had that dream in as many nights. Wasn’t it ever going to stop?
She sighed and leaned her forehead against her knees, hugging her legs to her. She knew the answer to that question. It wasn’t going to stop.
Not until she figured out who the little girl was.
“No offense, Eliza, but you look like hell.”
As the words penetrated her brain, Eliza glanced up from the computer screen. Her eyes felt dry from staring at Internet photographs for the last two-and-a-half hours. Ever since six this morning.
Unable to sleep, she’d come in early and planted herself in front of her computer, determined to put a name to the face in her dreams. She’d looked up the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children Web site, the first resource everyone at the agency turned to.
Right now, the faces she was looking at were all beginning to run together in her mind.
Holding back the sigh that had taken possession of her, Eliza massaged her temples where a serious headache was starting to take hold.
Nevertheless, the smile she offered Cade Townsend, the founder of ChildFinders, Inc., was genuine. “No offense taken.”
“When did you last get a good night’s sleep?” Cade crossed his arms before him as he regarded her face more closely. “And if you don’t mind my asking, just what are you doing here so early? Don’t clairvoyants sleep?”
“On occasion.” Eliza deflected his question neatly. “And I could ask the same of you,” she added, flipping to the next file.
“You could,” he allowed affably. “And my answer would be that sometimes I like coming in while the office is still quiet, before the day and chaos catch up to it. It gives me the illusion that I’m actually on top of things.” And then he smiled. “And I’m here because my wife said I was driving her crazy.”
Amusement highlighted Eliza’s fine-boned face as she welcomed a respite from the darker things that occupied her thoughts. “Oh?”
“McKayla says I was hovering around her and her swollen belly like a starving man watching the timer on a stove, waiting for the roast to be ready.” Cade paused, then asked, “You don’t, by any chance, have any clue as to when Mike might give—”
She’d wondered what had taken Cade so long to ask. There were those who regarded her and her gift to be in the same realm as carnival performers, as turbaned pretenders who could tell a fortune or suddenly “see” the future at the turn of a coin. She’d grown up with people like that coming in and out of her life.
But Cade Townsend, as well as the others here at ChildFinders, had given her nothing but the utmost respect, treating her not like an oddity, an anomaly of nature, but a woman with something very real, very tangible to offer the organization. Cade was the first to cite her hard work and dedicated professionalism. That she was one of the few true clairvoyants, he’d once said, was only a plus, but not her greatest asset.
She liked Cade. He made her feel as if she actually belonged.
Eliza laughed. “I’m not sure that McKayla would welcome my touching her belly, trying to divine an answer for you.”
She knew he’d seen her do it before, touch things that belonged to a kidnapped victim, trying to commune with an essence the rest of them could not fathom. Though McKayla liked Eliza, Eliza could just hear his wife’s very vocal reaction to that.
Cade waved away his unfinished request. “You’re absolutely right. I’ve never seen a woman get so testy before. Not that she was the most easygoing woman to begin with, but she was at least reasonable,” he confided in an uncustomary moment of intimacy.
She understood exactly what he was saying. Eliza stretched, leaning back in the chair. Her back ached. “They’re called hormones, Cade. We’re all blessed—or cursed—with them to some extent. Hers are just a little out of sync right now.”
He seemed to appreciate the charitable explanation, and laughed softly. “Now there’s an understatement.”
About to leave, Cade paused, curious. He looked over Eliza’s shoulder at the monitor. They were all acutely familiar at the agency with the Web site she was looking at. Ever changing, ever growing, the Web site was filled with a preponderance of photographs of smiling children of all ages. Children who had vanished out of lives that had been carefully or carelessly laid out, breaking the hearts of those who cared about them.
From the looks of it, Eliza had gone through at least two-thirds of the listings. He vaguely recognized the face she was looking at. The girl had been on the site ever since he’d founded ChildFinders, when his own son had been kidnapped. Darin had eventually been found. This girl had not.
He rested his hand on the monitor. “You didn’t tell me you’re working on a new case.” His only rules were that he be kept apprised of every new case that came in and that the first client interview be taped to prevent any misunderstandings down the line.
Eliza half turned in her chair to look at him. “That’s because I’m not. At least, not exactly.”
“Can you get a little more specific than that?”
Though Cade was an incredibly understanding man Eliza had a great deal of respect for, a lifetime of having to defend herself, of being thought of as “the different one” had her unconsciously bracing herself for unpleasantness.
“There’s this child in my dreams—” She stopped, wondering how to phrase what she needed to say.
Cade’s eyes were nothing if not kind. “Go on,” he coaxed quietly, interested.
Feeling suddenly self-conscious, she gave a seemingly careless shrug. “You don’t have time to listen.”
“Sure I do. It’s early, remember?” Cade leaned a hip against the side of her desk. “And my last case wrapped up five days ago.”
Okay, he asked for it, Eliza thought, taking a breath. “There’s this child. She’s running through a field. There’s tall, tall grass that makes it hard for her to run, but she pushes on anyway. She’s about four, maybe five, blond, green-eyed and very frightened. She keeps calling out to her father to come find her. Except he doesn’t.”
Listening intently, Cade nodded. “Anything else?”
She closed her eyes for a moment to focus. “I see a farmhouse in the background.” Eliza opened her eyes again and looked at Cade. “It has that old, run-down look, like one of those places you see in those old documentaries about the Depression.”
“Abandoned?”
She’d gotten that feeling, but she couldn’t be sure. It was the little girl who had held all of her attention. “Maybe.”
“What makes you think the little girl is real?” Cade asked. His tone was tactful, kind. “I mean, she might be a fabrication of your mind, a holdover from a movie you saw or television program you caught, or even a composite from your past cases.”
It was a question she’d already asked herself. “No, she’s real. I know it.” Eliza was as certain of that as she was of who and what she was. “Someone’s taken her, I’m sure of it. I’ve had this dream over and over again, Cade. In the last week, I’ve had it for five nights straight.” She looked back at the monitor. The little girl had to be in there somewhere. “She’s real, Cade, and she’s out there. Lost. Looking to come home.”
“Anything I can do?” Cade asked.
Until she found a match somehow, there was nothing any of them could do. Eliza sighed. “You can ask Carrie to buy more coffee when she gets a chance. We’re almost out.” She nodded at the mug on her desk. “I made a double batch this morning.”
Cade moved away from the desk, inadvertently brushing against Eliza’s arm. “Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll be sure to steer clear of it.” And then he grinned. “Although Megan will probably tell you it’s too weak. If you need any help, let me know.”
The slight contact had created a burst of light within her. Eliza looked at Cade confidently. “Sure thing, but you’ll be too busy.”
“No, I—” The significance of her words hit him.
He realized that he’d accidentally brushed against her. From what she’d told him, he knew that Eliza’s insights came at will. Cade looked at her now, his eyes widening. “Really?”
She smiled broadly at him. You’d think this was his first time expecting, instead of a second go-round. “Really.”
He crossed back to her, more eager than she’d ever seen him. “When?”
“This afternoon,” she answered with no hesitation. In her mind, she’d seen the baby, seen one of the assisting nurses recording the time. “3:32.”
“3:32,” he echoed like a man in a trance. He wasn’t skeptical, he really wasn’t, but he would have been less than human if he didn’t ask, “But two minutes ago, you said you didn’t know.”
She knew he wasn’t challenging her. At times, this whole thing left her in awe herself.
“Two minutes ago, I didn’t. Like I’ve told you, I have no control over this. Things come to me. Or they don’t. All I can do is pass on the information when I get it.” Eliza had made her peace with this, though there were times when it still proved frustrating to her. “I’m not much more than a conduit.”
“You’re a lot more than that.” Cade squeezed her hand, grateful for her information and for the fact that worrying about McKayla would be behind him soon. As of yesterday, his wife was officially three weeks overdue. “Thanks. And if you need any help with that—” he nodded at the computer monitor “—I can ask Chad if he has any extra—”
“Thanks, but I don’t think anyone else is going to be able to help, Cade—not yet, at any rate. I’ve only got a vague picture of the little girl in my mind, and right now, I’m the only one who would even recognize her.”
“What we need is a good sketch artist as part of the firm,” Cade commented, leaving. “Well, don’t tire yourself out,” he warned. “I don’t like my operatives dead on their feet, and you’re not going to help that little girl’s case any by turning into a zombie.”
“Zombie, freak. You’re a freak, that’s what you are. Why the hell can’t you be normal, like other little girls?”
The voice echoed in her brain as loudly now as it had any one of the number of times her father had shouted those words at her. They’d come from his own frustration over not being able to understand what was going on with his only child.