His Secret Christmas Baby Read online

  “I’m Ryan’s father. I should have been there.”

  Hating the look of guilt haunting her eyes, Derrick reached out and pressed his hand over hers. “Bri, this is not your fault.” He scraped a hand over his jaw. “And if I’d known about the baby, I would have been there.”

  “Derrick—”

  “No, Bri. It’s true and you know it. If I had known, I could have stopped these maniacs from kidnapping my son.”

  Confusion muddled his brain, panic over where his son was making his throat tight. But Derrick wouldn’t let fear consume him.

  He’d find Ryan no matter what. And he’d be the father the boy deserved.

  RITA HERRON

  HIS SECRET CHRISTMAS BABY

  To Linda Howard, a special friend of my sister’s and now

  one of mine. Thanks for all your fabulous stories at the

  mountain cabin in Blue Ridge, and for being a fan!

  Hope you enjoy this one!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Award-winning author Rita Herron wrote her first book when she was twelve, but didn’t think real people grew up to be writers. Now she writes so she doesn’t have to get a real job. A former kindergarten teacher and workshop leader, she traded her storytelling to kids for romance, and now she writes romantic comedies and romantic suspense. She lives in Georgia with her own romance hero and three kids. She loves to hear from readers so please write her at P.O. Box 921225, Norcross, GA 30092-1225, or visit her Web site at www.ritaherron.com.

  Books by Rita Herron

  HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE

  790—MIDNIGHT DISCLOSURES*

  810—THE MAN FROM FALCON RIDGE

  861—MYSTERIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES*

  892—VOWS OF VENGEANCE*

  918—RETURN TO FALCON RIDGE

  939—LOOK-ALIKE*

  957—FORCE OF THE FALCON

  977—JUSTICE FOR A RANGER

  1006—ANYTHING FOR HIS SON

  1029—UP IN FLAMES*

  1043—UNDER HIS SKIN*

  1063—IN THE FLESH*

  1081—BENEATH THE BADGE

  1097—SILENT NIGHT SANCTUARY**

  1115—PLATINUM COWBOY

  1132—COLLECTING EVIDENCE

  1159—PEEK-A-BOO PROTECTOR

  1174—HIS SECRET CHRISTMAS BABY**

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Brianna Honeycutt—A social worker at Magnolia Manor; her adopted son Ryan is missing….

  Derrick McKinney—He’ll do anything he can to find the missing child, especially now he knows the baby is his.

  Ryan Cummings—The infant has become Brianna’s whole world. Why would anyone want to kidnap an innocent baby?

  Natalie Cummings—Ryan’s birth mother died after childbirth—was it natural causes or was she murdered?

  Dana and Robert Philips—They desperately wanted a baby—could they have kidnapped Ryan?

  Rhoda Hampton—She recently suffered her third miscarriage—did she take Ryan to replace the baby she lost?

  Principal Lamont Billings—Does he know more than he’s telling about Natalie’s death?

  Evan Rutherford—Teacher and high school football coach—does he know who is behind the meth lab?

  Jameson Mansfield—The town lawyer who handles adoptions: Does he know something about the missing baby?

  Dr. Houston Thorpe—Did he lie about Natalie’s cause of death?

  Sheriff Beau Cramer—He dated Natalie. But is he covering up her murder?

  Mark Larimer—A nurse at the local hospital—did he kill Natalie and kidnap the baby to keep his long-time secret about the meth lab?

  Ace Atkins—Is this tough kid from Magnolia Manor responsible for the meth lab?

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Prologue

  “Brianna, I’m afraid. If anything happens to me,” Natalie Cummings whispered, “promise me that you’ll take care of the baby.”

  “Nothing is going to happen to you.” Brianna Honeycutt squeezed her best friend’s hand as she pulled into the hospital emergency room entrance.

  Another contraction seized Natalie, and she began the Lamaze breathing exercises, her hold on Brianna’s hand tightening painfully. “He, he, he—ho.”

  Brianna breathed with her, grateful they’d finally made it to the hospital. A winter storm had rolled in, snow flurries blurring visibility, and she’d had to drive at a snail’s pace. And Natalie’s contractions were coming one on top of the other.

  She threw the car into park as the contraction eased, and helped Natalie out, but Natalie clutched her hand again. “Promise me, Bri, I need to hear you say it.”

  Pain and fear darkened Natalie’s eyes, and Brianna’s stomach clenched. She’d known Natalie was afraid of childbirth, but her voice quivered with terror.

  “Of course, I will,” Brianna vowed softly. “But you’re going to be fine. A few minutes from now, you’ll be holding your baby, and you’ll forget all about the pain.”

  Natalie opened her mouth to say something, but another contraction seized her. She pressed her hand to her stomach, and tried to breathe through it.

  Suddenly a nurse and orderly appeared and raced toward them. “She’s in labor,” Brianna stated.

  The nurse called for a wheelchair, and the orderly ran to get it. Brianna followed behind her as they wheeled Natalie to the reception desk to check her in.

  Then suddenly Natalie cried out in pain, her water broke and chaos descended.

  “I’m her labor coach,” Brianna informed as they rushed Natalie through the double doors to the exam room.

  “We’ll come and get you in a moment,” the nurse said over her shoulder. “Let the doctor examine her.”

  Brianna nodded, her nerves on edge as her friend disappeared through the doors, a terrified expression on her pale face. Brianna paced the waiting room for twenty minutes, her anxiety rising with every second that ticked by. Finally, her patience snapped, and she rushed to the nurses’ station and asked for an update.

  The nurse appeared irritated at first, but went to the back to check, then returned five minutes later with a frown on her face. “I’m sorry, miss, but your friend had complications. They’ve taken her to surgery for an emergency C-section.”

  A sense of fear overwhelmed Brianna. “Please let me know when she’s out.”

  The nurse nodded, and Brianna paced the waiting room again. Two other couples hurried in and were sent to birthing rooms, the minutes dragging by. The coffee grew cold, her body more tense as she waited.

  What was taking so long? What were the complications? Was Natalie all right? What about the baby?

  An hour later, a doctor appeared, the grave expression on his face sending a chill down Brianna’s spine. “I’m Dr. Thorpe. You came in with Miss Cummings?”

  Brianna nodded, then swallowed and finally forced her voice to work. “The baby—”

  “Is fine,” the doctor said. “A little boy. Seven pounds, eight ounces. He’s in the nursery.”

  She sucked in a harsh breath and gripped his arm. “And Natalie? Please, I have to see her.”

  “I’m sorry,” he answered quietly. “
But your friend died in childbirth.”

  The room swirled around Brianna in a sea of white, and she felt her legs buckling. The doctor coaxed her to a vinyl sofa, and she put her head down between her knees, afraid she would pass out.

  “What happened?” Brianna asked.

  The doctor shifted and looked away. “She started hemorrhaging, then her heart gave out.”

  Her heart? Natalie hadn’t had a heart condition, had she?

  “Miss Honeycutt, I’m sorry. Is there any family I can call?”

  Tears blurred her eyes as she lifted her head to look at him. “No,” she whispered. “Just me. I’m her family.”

  “How about the baby’s father?”

  “He’s not in the picture,” Brianna replied.

  “Do you know his name so we can contact him?”

  “No, she never told me.”

  “Then we’ll need to call social services about the baby.”

  Panic shot through Brianna, grief, fear and shock in its wake. No, she wouldn’t turn the baby over to the system. But Natalie hadn’t signed any papers giving her legal custody.

  What if the baby’s father found out about him? Would he want the baby?

  She had to act fast. She was a social worker for the local adoption agency, and she worked with Magnolia Manor, the local orphanage. Natalie wanted her to raise the baby, and she would push through the adoption immediately and keep her promise even if she had to fudge papers to do so.

  But Natalie’s pleas before she’d gone to delivery taunted her. It was almost as if she’d known that she might not make it.

  Had Natalie been afraid of something—or somebody? Had she been in danger?

  Chapter One

  Six weeks later

  “Why can’t Robert and I adopt Natalie Cummings’s baby?” Dana Phillips asked.

  Brianna tensed at the cold hardness in the young woman’s eyes. Dana and her husband had been trying to get pregnant for three years, had tried fertility treatments and in vitro fertilization but none of it had worked. Worse, they had been on the adoption list for two of those stressful years.

  “You said you’d find us a baby,” Dana screeched, “but you’ve done nothing to help us. And now there’s a baby we could have and you won’t give him to us.”

  Brianna understood their desperation, but Dana’s emotional state worried her. The woman was obsessed with having a child to the point that Brianna worried about placing one with her.

  “I’m sorry, Dana, but Ryan is not up for adoption.”

  Dana crossed her arms, tears glittering in her eyes. “Why not? His mother is dead, and he has no father. And don’t forget, I grew up in this town. I know that Natalie’s family is gone now.”

  Grief for Natalie was still so raw that Brianna’s throat thickened with emotions. The fact that Natalie had been anxious her last few weeks and seemed frightened gnawed at Brianna. Women dying during childbirth were uncommon these days. Had Natalie really had heart failure?

  “You know I’m right,” Dana said, her shrill voice yanking Brianna from the worry that something hadn’t seemed truthful about the doctor’s explanation.

  “I understand that you’ve waited a long time, Dana, but Natalie asked me to be guardian of her child, and I promised her I would.”

  “You would be taking good care of him if you gave him to us,” Dana pleaded.

  “But Natalie wanted me to raise him.” Brianna reached for Dana to calm her, but Dana jumped up and paced across Brianna’s office, her anger palpable.

  “Listen, Dana, I know you’re desperate, but we’ll find you a child. I promised Natalie that I would raise Ryan, though. Natalie was like a sister to me. I have to keep that promise.” Besides, the moment she’d held the newborn, she’d fallen in love with him.

  “That little boy deserves to have a mother and a father, Brianna, and you can’t give him that. You’re not even married.”

  Brianna sucked in a sharp breath. “Dana, I’m not going to argue with you. I’ve already legally adopted Ryan. Believe me, it’s what Natalie wanted.”

  “It’s what you wanted,” Dana said in a high-pitched voice. “You’re selfish. You took him for yourself even though you know he’d be better off with two parents. You act like you care and that you’re some Goody Two-shoes, but you don’t give a damn about Robert and me. You’re only thinking about yourself.”

  “Dana, I will keep looking and find you a child. I promise. Maybe we can find a private adoption—”

  “We can’t pay thousands for a baby and you know it,” Dana cried. “That’s why you have to give us Ryan.”

  Brianna stood, her voice firm. “Dana, Ryan is my child now, and no one is going to take him from me.”

  DERRICK MCKINNEY SETTLED into the chair at the Guardian Angel Investigations Agency, his mind heavy. Now he was back in Sanctuary, North Carolina, he had to visit Natalie Cummings’s grave and pay his respects.

  But visiting any grave after his last case was going to be a bear. He still couldn’t get the image of the child’s small tombstone out of his mind. If he’d only been sooner, figured out that the mother was lying….

  Footsteps sounded from the upstairs of the old house that had been converted into a business, and Gage McDermont strode down the steps. Derrick hadn’t seen him in ten years, but Gage still exuded confidence and authority.

  Derrick had read about Gage’s departure from the Raleigh Police Department and how he’d found Leah Holden’s little sister Ruby a few months ago when she’d gone missing, and was glad to hear Gage had opened his own agency.

  The fact that Gage had focused his investigative services on missing children had been a big draw. The fact that, at the agency, he wouldn’t have to play by the rules was another major plus.

  To hell with rules. They could be too damn confining.

  Although he wasn’t sure Gage would want his help. They hadn’t exactly been friends in school. Gage had been the popular jock whereas he’d been the sullen bad boy on a Harley.

  “Derrick McKinney, good to have you here.” Gage extended his hand and Derrick stood and shook it, surprised not to find any hesitation in Gage’s tone.

  “Thanks for bringing me into the agency.”

  “Are you kidding?” Gage grinned. “I know your reputation, McKinney. Your specialty is missing kids and that’s what we do here.”

  Except the last one which had ended badly, and he’d received some bad PR from it. “Yeah, but you saw what happened on my last case.”

  Gage’s smile faded slightly, but understanding lit his eyes. “I don’t go by rumors. Besides, I know how the job goes. We have to be tough to do it, but we’re only human. We can’t get them all.”

  Derrick’s throat closed with emotions he didn’t dare show, and words he dare not say. He’d learned a hard lesson on that case.

  Never trust a woman. Pretty eyes, tears and seductive voices could lead a man astray real fast.

  “Thanks,” he finally said.

  Gage gestured for him to follow him up the stairs. When they reached Gage’s office, Gage offered him a drink, but Derrick declined. For a few days after he’d found that kid’s body, he’d drowned himself in booze.

  Then one day he’d realized that drinking himself to death was too easy. He needed a clear head to remember what he’d done wrong, and he’d spend the rest of his life trying to make up for it.

  Over the next hour, they reviewed office business, salary, benefits and other candidates Gage had brought into the agency. Slade Blackburn, agent. Benjamin Camp, a computer and tech specialist. Levi Stallings, former FBI profiler. Brock Running Deer, an expert tracker. Caleb Walker had special skills that he didn’t elaborate on. Colt Manson, a guns and weapons specialist. And he was trying to recruit a woman named Amanda Peterson, a renowned forensic anthropologist. Caleb and Colt hadn’t started yet, but Levi, Ben and Brock were on board.

  “Do we have a case now?” Derrick asked.

  Gage fingered a file. “Not at the momen
t. I sent Slade Blackburn to recover a young teenager who ran away. He called and will be bringing her back soon.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Gage nodded. “Yeah. The mother is a local, Carmel Foster. She’ll be thrilled to have her daughter, Julie, back home with her.”

  “That’s what it’s all about,” Derrick said. “Connecting families.”

  A smile curved Gage’s mouth. “Exactly. But we’re still growing the agency. I’d like you on board.”

  Derrick shrugged. “Hell, a few days off won’t hurt me. But I am ready to go back to work, just in case you’re wondering.”

  “I have no doubt.” Gage stood. “In fact, that’s why I wanted you here now. Leah and I plan to take a little second honeymoon. Ruby is staying with a friend. I need you to hold down the fort.”

  “I appreciate the opportunity,” Derrick said. “I won’t let you down.”

  Derrick shook his hand again, then strode down the steps and walked out into the cool December air. Christmas was coming, the town was lit up with decorations, winter on its way.

  But the holidays had never been high on his list. He’d seen too much over the years, had lost faith too damn long ago to think about singing Christmas carols or shopping.

  Besides, he had no one to shop for. No one to celebrate with. No one to share a cozy dinner or decorate a stupid tree.

  And that was fine with him.

  He climbed in his Jeep, stopped by the florist, picked up a bouquet of lilies, and drove to the cemetery on the edge of town. The little white church needed paint, but vibrant colors from the stained glass windows danced in the waning sunlight across the parched grass and dead leaves. Snow fluttered from the sky in a light downfall, sticking to branches and painting the graveyard in a soft white that made the grounds look almost ethereal, a contrast to the sadness there. A small blue sedan was parked in front of the church, and he wondered if it belonged to the minister or another visitor, but dismissed it without thought.