Protecting Her Child (5 page)

A
fter Meredith's hasty retreat on the beach, Pete grabbed his bag, left the motel room, climbed into his Jeep and headed north, following her car's taillights. No telling where she was going this time of night.

She'd claimed she needed space. In his mind that meant time alone to process the information he'd piled on her slender shoulders.

If that's what she wanted, so be it. He'd hang back, letting her think she was on her own, all the while keeping her car in view.

Except he'd lost sight of her a couple miles back.

Just so long as she didn't turn off the main road.

Surely, once he rounded the curve ahead, he'd catch sight of her again. At least, he hoped he would.

Pete clutched the wheel and made the turn.

His heart slammed into his throat. Meredith's car sat nose down in a deep ravine. A man stood by the driver's door, hand raised, ready to strike.

Pete swerved to the side of road and sprang from the Jeep.

“No!” he screamed. Adrenaline pumping, hands flailing, he raced headlong down the steep incline.

The guy jumped back and scurried up the hill away from Pete.

As much as he wanted to slam his fist into the guy's jaw, Pete's first concern was Meredith.

The punk climbed into his pickup and drove out of sight.

Pete neared Meredith's car. His gut tightened as he spotted the deflated air bag spilling out of the open door, droplets of blood splattered across the fabric.

“Meredith?”

He saw movement, and relief swept over him.

She was alive.

“Pete?”

He leaned into the car and touched her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

She grimaced and tried to smile.

“What hurts?”

“Maybe everything.”

He worked his hands down her arms then checked her knees and ankles. “Anything broken?”

“No. Really, I'm okay.”

He dug in his pocket for his BlackBerry. “I'll call 911 for an ambulance and the police.”

She grabbed his hand, her eyes wide. “Don't call anyone.”

“But the baby?”

“I felt movement after the crash.”

He pointed to the splatter pattern. “There's blood, Meredith. You're injured.”

She shook her head. “It's not my blood. Now get me out of here.”

Evidently, she'd fought back. Good for her.

He spied the knife on the ground, stooped to retrieve it and placed it in her outstretched hand.

“Any idea who that guy was?”

She bit her lip.

“Come on, Meredith. No more secrets. What's going on?”

“I…I'm not sure.”

“You need the police.”

She shook her head. “Please, Pete, believe me. Involving the police will just cause more problems.”

“What aren't you telling me?”

“Trust me. Okay?”

“On the beach tonight, you said I didn't know a thing about you. Now you're asking me to trust you?”

“I don't have anyone else.”

The truth in her words gripped his heart. Alone, pregnant, on the run. He couldn't turn his back on her now. Besides, she was Eve's daughter. Despite everything that had happened, Eve had been there when he'd needed someone growing up.

Reaching across the wheel, Pete turned off the engine and pulled the key from the ignition.

“Easy does it,” he cautioned, supporting her as she pivoted in the seat and dropped her legs to the ground.

Her knees gave out when she tried to stand. He wrapped his arm more tightly around her shoulders. “There's no hurry. Let's take it one step at a time.”

Her head dropped against him, her hair spilling over his chest. Her closeness stirred him.

He rubbed her shoulder, continuing to hold her. “You should see a doctor.”

“Who'd have to notify the police. I told you, I don't want them involved.”

Pete grumbled under his breath. “At least let me check the baby's heartbeat. I worked as a medic for a while in the army and keep a first aid kit in my Jeep.”

“Thank you.” She squeezed his hand then pointed back to her car. “Would you mind grabbing my purse, and there's a tote bag in the trunk.”

Pete retrieved both, then helped her up the hill and eased her into the passenger seat of his Jeep. Once she was settled, he pulled the first aid kit from the rear and held the stethoscope to her belly, hearing the rapid beat of a healthy fetus. “Baby's heart sounds fine.”

She dropped her head against the seat rest and sighed. “Thank God.”

Noting her pallor, Pete grabbed a bottle of water from behind the seat, twisted off the cap and offered it to her.

Meredith took two long swigs before glancing up, her brow raised. “So why'd you follow me?”

He smiled. “I don't give up when something's important.”

“You probably thought I was running away.”

“Weren't you?”

“Maybe, but not from you.”

“Eve can help, Meredith. Don't let your pride get in the way.”

As soon as the words escaped his mouth, he was struck by a sense of déjà vu. Veronica had said the same thing yesterday in regard to his funding.

“Pride has nothing to do with it, Pete.”

“Talking might help.” Not that he practiced what he preached.

Meredith stared at him for a long moment, then placed the water bottle in the console.

“When I was eleven, I told my adoptive father I wanted to be with my real mother.”

“And his reaction?”

“He took off his belt and beat me, which was his usual response to opposition.”

She swallowed hard. “As much as the belt hurt, his words stung more. He said she lived in a beautiful house with servants and pretty clothes and she could do anything she wanted because she didn't have me.”

Meredith studied her hands. “That night, I decided if my mother didn't want me, then I didn't want her either.”

“What he said was a lie, Meredith. Your mother wanted to keep you, and she wants to reconnect with you now.”

Meredith looked up at him, and her troubled eyes cut through to his heart. “Then why'd she wait so long to try to find me?”

“Because she thought you were in a good place.”

Before he could say anything else, Meredith gasped. He followed her gaze. Headlights stabbed the night, coming toward them.

“He's back,” she whispered.

Pete glanced at her auto, angled into the ditch. Anyone passing by would probably notify the police.

Not what Meredith wanted.

“We need to get out of here.” Pete slammed the passenger-side door and rounded the Jeep. Sliding behind the wheel, he started the engine and made a U-turn heading back to Refuge Bay.

“I saw a turnoff about a quarter of a mile down the road.” He hoped his voice belied the growing concern that rumbled through his gut.

A deserted road at this time of night. Did the headlights belong to the guy in the pickup?

Better not to take any chances, especially when it came to Meredith.

Pete needed to find a place to hole up where she would feel safe. Maybe then he could convince her to come with him to Atlanta. As far as he knew, nothing tied her to Refuge Bay except an abandoned bungalow and a part-time job at a quilt shop.

Eve could offer her a new life, security, even love.

If only Meredith would be more forthcoming about the man who'd run her off the road.

 

Meredith tried to focus on everything that had happened, but she couldn't get past the gut-wrenching dread that settled over her. The thug had come after her once again and tried to do her harm.

This time, too close for comfort.

All she wanted was peace and quiet and a chance to catch her breath.

She glanced at Pete. His hands clenched the steering wheel, and his eyes flicked back and forth from the road ahead to the reflection of the approaching vehicle in the rearview mirror.

Meredith looked over her shoulder. The headlights continued to draw closer, but with Pete at the wheel, she felt more secure.

His attentiveness to her needs and his concern for her child eased some of the questions she'd had about him earlier.

Pete seemed like a genuinely compassionate guy. Decisive. Strong-willed, but in a good way. With a take-charge attitude that she liked. As if he could handle any problem.

Something she hadn't felt with her husband.

Ben had been her saving grace after she'd run away from her adoptive father. Compared to the life she'd been living, being with Ben seemed like paradise. Free of the oppression and abuse, she'd been renewed with hope that her life would continue to improve.

But seven months ago, Ben had made a foolish mistake that changed everything. Shortly thereafter, he'd been murdered, and she'd been on the run.

At the next intersection, Pete turned inland. A
row of cottages edged the road. The last house sat dark, a F
OR
S
ALE
sign in the front yard.

He pulled onto a gravel drive that led to the backyard, where he cut the lights, turned off the engine and lowered the window.

The sound of a car engine, gaining speed along the main road, filtered in with the night air. Wheels screeched, signaling that the car had taken the curve at an accelerated rate, followed by another gear shift and more acceleration until the sound faded into the distance.

Only then did Pete let out the breath he'd evidently been holding and turn to face her.

Cool air swept past him, carrying the faint scent of his aftershave. “Whoever it was stayed on the main road headed south. Might be a good reason to drive north. We can pick up I-95 in about ten miles and get something to eat, fill the car up with gas, maybe later get a couple of rooms in a motel to hole up in for the night. Unless you've got a better idea.”

“That sounds fine.”

Pete turned the key in the ignition and retraced their route. When they passed her car, still angled into the ditch, he said, “You'll have to call a repair shop in the morning.”

She sighed. “I should have thought of that earlier. My neighbor in Refuge Bay moonlights out of his
garage as a mechanic. He might be working tonight.”

Pulling her cell from her pocket, she tapped in the digits and waited until the call went to voice mail. “Larry, it's Meredith. My car ran off the road.” She gave the location. “I'm okay, but I need a tow. If you've got room, park it in your garage. I don't want the police asking questions.”

“Everyone in your neighborhood against the cops?” Pete asked once she disconnected.

“Just Larry. I'll try him again in the morning.”

She settled back in the seat. “Thanks for helping me.”

“Happy to be of service, ma'am.”

She couldn't resist the urge to smile. “So we get to I-95 and then find food?”

“I'll bet you skipped dinner.”

And lunch, she failed to add, pulling the water bottle to her lips again. “If it were just me, I'd pass. But I need to think of the baby.”

His eyes settled ever so briefly on her protruding abdomen. “When are you due?”

“In eight weeks.”

His eyes widened ever so slightly. “That soon, huh? You got it all worked out? The doctor, hospital, that sort of thing?”

She shook her head. “I travel light. In fact, I don't
have baby clothes or diapers or a car seat to take the baby home from the hospital.” She laughed ruefully. “At this point, I don't even have a car.”

“You've still got time,” he said, seemingly with conviction, which she appreciated. But they both knew he was just trying to reassure her.

Babies were needy creatures. Clothing, diapers, car seats. A stable home life. None of which she could offer her child.

Eight weeks. Saying it out loud made the time loom even closer.

And what about Pete? Would he be long gone by then? Or helping some other woman who needed a knight in shining armor?

Meredith couldn't rely on him. She'd handled situations in the past on her own. She would handle them in the future as well.

Besides, she'd asked God to help her.

She rubbed her hand over her belly. Hopefully, He wouldn't let her down.

T
hey picked up I-95 exactly where Pete had said and headed north for twenty miles before he felt a bit more confident that they could let down their guard.

Meredith said little, but every time he glanced her way, a feeling welled up within him. A mix of protectiveness and need that filled his heart with an overwhelming desire to safeguard the innocence he saw in her eyes and knew she carried in her womb.

In the distance, an all-night roadside café sat on the top of a knoll next to a gas station where he could fill up. He pulled into a parking spot at the side of the restaurant and held the door for Meredith as they entered the outer alcove and stepped toward the dining area.

“Be with you in a minute, folks,” the waitress behind the counter said in greeting.

They passed up the window seats and headed for a booth in the rear. Meredith sank into the bench seat, weariness evident in her eyes when she looked at Pete from across the table.

“Breakfast sound okay?” he asked.

“Hot tea and toast will be fine.”

Pete ordered a three-egg omelet, hash browns, biscuits and gravy and a slice of Virginia ham.

He nodded toward Meredith. “Bring the lady a bowl of fresh fruit, orange juice, scrambled eggs and biscuits and ham.”

His lips eased into a smile when the waitress left. “You need something substantial. Doctor's orders.”

“Doctor?” The corner of her mouth twitched. “I thought you worked in a lab?”

He winked. “Even lab techs know the importance of good prenatal nutrition.”

She didn't argue and ate ravenously once the food was served.

“I'll pull the car up to the gas pump,” Pete said after he downed his third cup of coffee. “Finish up, and we'll meet outside.”

“Sure you want to leave me alone?” she said, a hint of a tease in her voice. “Aren't you afraid I'll run away?”

He was glad to see the spark of levity, a good
sign, and he played along. “I trust you, okay? Besides, you can call me on my cell if you run into a problem. You know my number.”

She stabbed another bite of ham and shoved it into her mouth. Then she flashed a see-I'm-doing-what-you-said smile that had him chuckling as he paid the bill and drove to the gas pumps.

After he filled the tank up, his BlackBerry rang.

Not a voice mail, but a photo. Pete punched the prompts and the picture downloaded across his screen.

He laughed. Meredith must like to play games.

She'd taken a photo of her empty plate.

Still chuckling under his breath, he checked the oil and washed the windows, taking his time.

Evidently, Meredith was doing the same.

Perhaps she was walking around a bit to get her circulation going. Not a bad idea at seven months.

Pete paid the attendant and eyed the restaurant. A pickup sat out front. The same make and model as the truck that had run her off the road.

His mind told him not to be concerned, but his heart didn't get the message.

Suppose something had happened? Her pregnancy, possible VHL, add adrenal tumors and a close brush with death to the list.

His muscles tensed.

Pete ran toward the restaurant, pulled open the door and stepped inside, his eyes darting back and forth. Where was she?

The ladies' restroom was located at the end of the entrance hall. He glanced into the dining area. Two men sat at the counter, their backs to the door.

An elderly couple followed Pete inside. The man headed for the dining area while the woman stepped toward the restroom.

“Ma'am? I'm traveling with a woman who's seven months pregnant, and she may not feel well.” Pete pointed to the ladies' room. “If she's in the restroom, would you tell her I'm waiting for her?”

The woman raised her brow, but didn't comment as she stepped into the ladies' room.

Within seconds, the door reopened and she peered out. “No one's in here.”

Anxiety tugged at Pete. Meredith had joked about running away. Surely, she hadn't taken off on her own?

His eyes scanned the nearby wooded area, hoping to spot some sign of her as he hustled back to the gas station. He'd drive around the property and see if he could find her, maybe in the picnic area nestled in front of the clump of trees at the end of the access road.

As he neared his Jeep, he caught sight of her bottom half poking out of the open door of a
minivan. Untangling herself from the car, Meredith spied him and smiled.

“I made a new friend in the restaurant.” She pointed to a woman who waved from the rear seat of the van. “She was getting milk for her kids and needed some help. We took the long way around the gas station back to her car.”

Pete peered inside and counted three kids, none of whom looked school age.

“Can I help?” he asked.

“You must be the lucky father-to-be. Congratulations.” The woman hefted a toddler into his arms. “Hold Taylor while I buckle Madison into her car seat.”

The child eyed Pete warily.

“Hey there, little guy.”

Taylor blinked twice, then wrapped his chubby arms around Pete's neck. “Da-Da?”

The woman laughed. “No, honey. You'll see Daddy once his plane lands.”

“Janet's husband is flying into Hunter Army Airfield after a thirteen-month deployment.” Meredith reached for the tired and cranky big sister who clutched a baby doll almost as tall as she was.

Taylor nuzzled Pete's neck, bringing a smile to his lips. He liked the feel of holding a child in his arms. The little tyke was a solid lump of love.

What had Janet said? Lucky father-to-be?

She'd jumped to the wrong conclusion.

Not that Pete objected.

He looked at Meredith, who was busy distracting the little girl with questions about her doll.

A strange feeling spread through Pete that had nothing to do with the toddler and everything to do with Meredith.

Spunky and determined, she made him laugh in spite of her problems. Plus, she was beautiful and, from what he'd seen so far, would make a good mom.

Too bad she'd have to raise her little one without help. Every child needed a dad. But the thought of another guy moving into Meredith's life pricked at Pete's good mood.

Truth be told, he wouldn't mind taking on the job of surrogate dad himself. Although he wasn't sure Meredith would approve.

She tickled the little girl's tummy, and the sound of their laughter flowed over Pete, along with the memory of his empty apartment and the nights he came home to nothing except a frozen pizza or fast-food burgers and fries.

Once the three kids were buckled into their car seats, the woman waved goodbye and aimed the minivan toward the interstate.

Pete was silent as he and Meredith climbed back into his Jeep.

Something had changed. A closed door deep within his core had cracked open. A door he'd kept sealed off from the world.

Being with Meredith and the nice family on their way to reconnect with their military dad had made him even more aware of the void in his own life.

His career and his research were usually all that mattered to him.

But, right now, more than anything else, Pete longed for a family of his own.

 

Tired as she was, and despite the hypnotic hum of the tires over the road as Pete drove through the night, Meredith couldn't sleep.

Her emotions were getting ahead of her. Probably the nesting instinct triggered by that sweet family at the gas station. At least those children had a father. But what about her baby?

She glanced at Pete. His right hand gripped the wheel, his left lay against the armrest. He sat straight, his eyes focused on the road.

As concerned as he'd been about her health and the safety of her baby, she had little doubt that he'd make a great dad. Watching him hold the toddler in his arms had confirmed that fact.

Plus he'd gone out of his way to help her—a woman he'd only just met. Initially, she thought his actions were based on his relationship with Eve, but what he'd done had gone beyond helping a friend.

For an instant, she wished she could be the woman who someday would capture his heart.

Although as little as she knew about him, Pete could already have a special someone. If there
was
another woman in his life, she certainly was one lucky lady.

“Savannah's not far. We'll stop there.”

Pete turned to catch her gaze. Their eyes met, jolting her equilibrium.

“I'm okay,” she quickly answered, trying to cover up the mixed signals her body was sending her.

“You keep saying that, Meredith, but you need to rest. Think of the baby.”

As if she thought of anything else.

“There's a woman I know,” he said. “She'll take us in.”

“An old girlfriend?”

The question slipped out without forethought. Meredith and Pete had only just met, yet helping the woman at the rest stop had united them in a common goal and filled her with a sense of connection. Something else stirred within her. A height
ened attraction to the man sitting in the driver's seat.

“Actually, she's a friend of Eve's,” Pete answered.

Meredith shook her head. “I told you, I don't want to see my mother.”

“Understood.” He glanced her way, his eyes filled with compassion.

“Sheila started the VHL Institute years ago to help her son who had the disease. Eve worked with her.” Pete shrugged. “They were old friends from grammar school days.”

“How's her son?”

Pete let out a lungful of air. “Brice died eight months ago.”

Back to reality. Forget what had happened at the rest stop.

Meredith's buoyed spirit deflated with the realization of the seriousness of the disease she could have and could then pass on to her baby.

Sheila had tried to save her son and failed.

What about Eve? Was she trying to save Meredith or merely assuaging her own guilt?

Pete insisted that Eve had thought she was doing what was best for her baby girl when she'd given Meredith up for adoption.

If only she could believe him.

“It's the middle of the night, Pete. We can't just knock on someone's door and say we need a place to stay.”

“Yeah, we can. Sheila's a great lady. You'll like her.”

And you'll like your mother, she waited for him to add. But Pete turned his attention back to the road.

Meredith rested her head against the seat. She had to admit that she was tired. Exhausted was a more accurate description.

She'd gratefully accept the woman's hospitality for one night. But in the morning, she'd take off on her own.

What would she tell Pete? Thanks for all your help, but I'll go it alone from now on?

Maybe she'd leave when he wasn't watching. Meredith hated being secretive after he'd done so much for her, but she had to protect her baby, and going to Atlanta wasn't on her agenda right now. Sometime in the future, when she had her feet on the ground, and she and the baby were doing okay, then she could consider reconnecting with her mother.

But Pete had said Eve was dying. If she waited too long, she'd miss the opportunity to see the woman who had given her life.

Pete left the north–south expressway and turned onto another thoroughfare that led into the city.

Signs of urban decline confirmed that, just like other metropolitan areas, people in Savannah worked hard to eke out a living. Rooms to rent and boarded-up storefronts were signs of the times. Not what Meredith had expected, but even Southern jewels like Savannah weren't immune to poverty and despair.

“We're almost in the historic district.”

“You come here often?” she asked.

“When I was stationed at Fort Stewart with the army, I'd head for the city whenever I had a three-day pass.” He smiled. “I've always loved history. You'll see some of the sights as we get close to Sheila's home. She owns an historic house just off Lafayette Square.”

Pete's voice was filled with delight as he pointed out landmarks. “The riverfront…the oldest AME church in America…the Green-Meldrim House where General Sherman had his headquarters after his March to the Sea.”

Despite her fatigue, Meredith could feel his excitement and for a few minutes she forgot about everything that had happened in the last few days.

He turned onto a street where gaslights flickered.

Even in the wee hours of the morning, the charm of the beautiful old homes in the historic district made her breath catch.

Pete pulled to the curb in front of a three-story Federal-style house. A wrought-iron double stairway led to the front door where a pair of bronze lions stood guard. A small front garden was awash with azaleas and cherry trees, their tiny buds bursting into bloom.