Chapter Two #3
Sandra’s gray hair was neatly styled, and her sharp brown eyes softened the moment they landed on Brody. “I was visiting a friend who had surgery, and Jolene called me,” she said, her voice etched with concern. “She said there was a baby found at the cemetery.”
The woman looked at her son. At the baby. And then at her. “Remi,” Sandra said, and there seemed to be genuine warmth in her greeting. “It’s been a long time.”
Remi nodded, unsure how to respond. She could see the questions forming in Sandra’s mind and the unspoken emotions simmering beneath the surface.
“Brody, what’s going on?” Sandra asked.
Remi watched as Brody stood straighter, his jaw going tight again. “We don’t know everything yet. But…he might be mine.”
Sandra blinked, her gaze flickering to the bassinet. “Yours?” she asked, her attention shifting to Remi. “Yours?” she repeated.
“Not mine,” Remi was quick to say. She braced herself for the same cold hostility Brody had been giving her. But Sandra surprised her. There was no judgment. No blame.
“What makes you think this child is yours?” Sandra pressed, moving closer to the baby and smiling down at him.
Brody drew in a long, weary breath. “We found him at Miranda’s grave. Remi says someone might have used one of our embryos, the ones we stored during Miranda’s fertility treatments. The embryos are missing.”
Sandra gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh, Brody.”
Remi saw the pain flash across Sandra’s face, a reflection of the grief she carried for Miranda. But the pain was on Brody’s face, too. Along with some anger. No doubt because the mention of fertility treatments brought it all back.
It brought it back to Remi, too, and sometimes, like now, it felt as if the sorrow and regret would dissolve her to ash. She deserved every bit of Brody’s anger and more. Because she hadn’t stopped Miranda from dying.
No one spoke of the past, but Remi knew they were all thinking about it. Miranda had desperately wanted a baby and had been going through those fertility treatments when she’d discovered she had cancer. A diagnosis she had gotten when Remi had been with her at one of her appointments.
A diagnosis that Miranda had insisted Remi keep secret.
And Remi had. For two months, anyway, before she’d gone to Miranda to let her know that she was going to tell Brody. By then, though, the aggressive form of cancer had taken its toll, and it’d been too late for Miranda to even start treatment.
So yes, Remi totally understood why Brody blamed her, and the world, for losing the woman he loved.
“Right now, we need to focus on that baby,” Sandra continued, her voice calm and steady. “If he’s yours, Brody, you’ll have to decide what comes next. But glaring at Remi isn’t going to help anyone.”
Remi swallowed hard, Sandra’s unexpected support settling over her. She hadn’t realized how much she needed it until now.
Brody didn’t respond, and his shoulders stayed tight as he stared at his mother. The baby stirred in the bassinet, letting out a soft cry that broke the silence.
Sandra moved even closer to him, leaning over to gently stroke his tiny hand. “We’ll figure this out,” she murmured.
Brody made a sound of agreement, and Remi saw some of the anger and indecision vanish. She knew this Brody. The tough, in-charge sheriff and not the widower who’d been stunned to the core to learn he might be a father.
“I’m contacting the lab to do a rapid DNA test on the baby,” he said while he fired off a text. “I want answers, and I want them now.”
Well, it wouldn’t be now exactly, but they could have the test results in an hour or two once the baby’s sample was collected. Since Brody’s DNA would already be on file, it should be a fast comparison. If the baby wasn’t his, then they obviously needed to find the parents. But if he was Brody’s…
His phone sounded with an incoming text, interrupting that thought, and she saw Brody’s forehead bunch up when he looked at his phone screen. “The number’s not in my contacts,” he muttered.
Which normally could mean it was spam, but considering everything that had just happened, it didn’t surprise her when Brody tapped on the text to read it.
Remi watched his face, looking for a reaction. And she soon saw one. Brody made a sound as if all the air had been punched from his lungs. She hurried to him, moving closer so she could read the message for herself.
But it wasn’t a message.
It was a photo of what appeared to be twin newborns swaddled in matching blue blankets. A blanket identical to the one wrapped around the baby they’d found. Next to the baby on the right was a newspaper showing today’s date.
“Twins,” he muttered. “Miranda and I had two stored embryos.”
Remi’s stomach clenched as if she’d been punched. She pressed a hand to her chest, but it did nothing to steady her out-of-control heartbeat.
Twins.
That single word crashed down on her. If there were two of them, then where was the second baby?
Before she could even try to mentally process that question, Brody’s phone dinged again, the sound shooting through the silence. And Remi saw the words she didn’t want to see.
Sheriff Walker, we have your other son. If you want him safe and sound and with his brother, Remi and you will do exactly as you’re told.