“When you left. Where did you go?”
“For a drive.” He must have read the horror in her expression, because he quickly added, “I was nowhere near Wholesome or The Landing. I got into the truck, put the windows down and just drove. To clear my head.”
“I can’t believe you let him treat you that way. Like you’re a criminal.”
“I’ve lived with this bullshit most of my life. Maybe now you get why I wanted my lawyer present when they questioned me yesterday. It’s not because I’m guilty, it’s because they want me to be.”
She had a choice, Bailey acknowledged. Believe him or not. Follow her head, or her heart. He’d kept things from her. Deliberately. Important, incriminating things. He’d rushed her into marriage. Into trusting him and coming here. Giving up everything she had to be with him.
Now, she understood why. What he was up against. If there had been real evidence against him, he would have been charged.
So she went to him, circled her arms around his middle and laid her head on his chest. Beneath her cheek, she felt the steady beat of his heart.
Her heart knew him. She loved him. And he loved her.
He was her happily ever after.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, voice thick.
“We’ll figure this out, Logan. You and me. Together.”
Just then, Tony came tearing up the walk. Wet and muddy, something red in his mouth. He dropped the object at their feet, obviously very pleased with himself.
Bailey moved her gaze from him to the thing at her feet. Not just anything. A red shoe.
The red shoe.
Her stomach turned over, and its contents rushed to her throat. Hand to her mouth, she turned and ran for the powder room.
She reached it just in time, bent over the commode and heaved.
Logan hadn’t gone out to get the shoe, to keep her quiet or to keep it from the hands of police.
“Baby, are you all right?”
He stood in the doorway, looking anxious.
“Yes,” she managed, straightening. She turned to the sink, rinsed her mouth and splashed water on her face. “It’s the pregnancy.”
He came up behind her and eased her against his chest. He met her gaze in the mirror. “See, just like I told you before. That silly dog came back for it. Buried it like a bone.”
“You were right.” Her eyes welled with tears. “I’m so sorry, Logan. For doubting you. For—”
“Shh.” He turned her in his arms. “It’s in the past. From now on we believe in each other, no matter what. Right?”
“Right. No matter what.”
“I’ll call Billy Ray,” he said.
“Wait.” She turned in his arms. “I overreacted that day. You’re right, somebody was out there necking, couldn’t find their shoe and left it behind. Just toss it.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Tuesday, April 22
12:45 P.M.
Bailey stood at the sink humming as she rinsed her and Logan’s lunch plates. The Carrie Underwood song, she realized. The one she had recalled that day in the hospital. Why had it popped back into her head now?
She hummed along, the words tumbling through her head.
Shatter every window ’til it’s all blown away …
As she did, she recalled the moment she’d realized she had skipped a period and wondered if she was pregnant. The memory burst full bloom in her head, then unfurled like petals of a flower. She had double-checked the calendar on her phone; she always noted “Day One” when she started.
She’d scrolled through. December. January. February.
No March.
Late. Nearly five weeks.
“Bailey?”
The sandwich plate slipped from her fingers, hit the tile floor and shattered.
“Don’t move!” Logan ordered. “Your feet are bare, let me get it.”
He grabbed the broom and dustpan and, in no time at all, dumped the pieces into the trash.
“All clear.”
But she didn’t move, thoughts tumbling back to that day. Conflicted, she remembered. As if her every dream had come true—in the midst of a nightmare. She’d found an OB/GYN—Dr. Saunders—and made an appointment for the next day.
“Bailey? You’ve remembered something, haven’t you?”
She blinked, looked at him. “Yes. Realizing that I’d missed a period and might be pregnant. Making an appointment with Dr. Saunders. I wanted to know for sure before I said anything to you. To surprise you.”
“Mission accomplished, babe.”
She laughed. “No joke. You ready to go?” she asked. He’d had to cancel his meeting this morning because of the sheriff’s deputies, and had rescheduled it for this afternoon.
“Having second thoughts. Thinking I’ll let them meet without me.” He lowered his voice. “I’m worried about you.”
“I told you, I’m fine.”
“An hour ago you were puking your guts up.”
“And fifteen minutes ago I was wolfing down a chicken sandwich.” She crossed to him. “I’m pregnant, not sick.”
“It’s not just that. Your memory—”
“Has started to return. Besides, you said it yourself, it’s all been pretty anticlimactic.”
“They won’t all be, Bailey. You know that.”
Blood. Everywhere. On her hands and jeans.
“I know. But we can’t just sit around waiting for them to drop, like a death sentence. Take your meeting and come back. How long could it be?”
“A couple hours, tops.”
“Go. Meet with the developers and I’ll bake something.”
“Bake something?” He looked confused.
“I have a craving for brownies.”
“There’s a bakery up by Bridles and Britches, I could—”
“No. Home-baked. My mother’s recipe.”
A smile touched his mouth. “I do like brownies.” He started for the door, then stopped again. “A couple hours. Meet with the developer, gather together some things—”
“Just go!” She pointed at the door.
“Do you have everything you need for the brownies?”
“If I don’t, I’ll run up to the market.”
“You probably shouldn’t be driving.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll ask Paul for a ride.”
He hesitated a moment, then agreed. “I’ll stop at the barn on the way out, let him know. Just in case.”
She shook her head. “You worry more than an old woman.”