By Linda Goodnight
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Though loath to admit it, her social life had been limited to a few shallow, quickly fading relationships, a couple of them regrettable. The Lord had forgiven her, but she was taking no chances on making the same mistakes again. Handsome, charming, shallow men were off-limits. Alex grew frustrated and thrashed in howling protest. Cassidy jiggled the bottle, trying to calm him. She’d had no idea feeding a hungry baby could be this difficult. “Come on, sugar. ” She tried again, sliding the nipple onto his tongue.
She wanted the man to get out, to leave her in peace. But she hadn’t the strength to say so. “I’ll handle things from here. ” Her voice sounded strangely detached, as though her vocal cords belonged to someone else far away in a big, empty auditorium. ” Cassidy managed a nod. At least she thought she did as she pushed the door open and stepped inside. The eerie quiet that invades a hospital deepened inside the room. Pale morning light from the curtained windows fell across a bulky form. Still dressed in the dark-yellow pants and black boots of a firefighter, stinking of soot and smoke, a man had pulled a chair against the side of Alex’s crib.
Her emotions jumbled, but mostly numb. ” he asked gently, standing close as though he thought she’d faint. The scent of smoke seeped from him in insidious waves. Her stomach churned, fighting down a memory. She’d hated the smell of smoke before. Now she hated it even more. “Alex’s father. ” He didn’t have to say the words. She could hear his thoughts. Brad Brown was dead along with her sister. “His parents live in Missouri, just over the state line. ” She looked at him then, lost. Notified? Of what?