And not once, no matter how many surprise visits he’d made, or what time of day or night he’d called, Bill had always been exactly where he was supposed to have been. And he’d been sober, too. Every single time. The man had passed every pee test. Was at work every day when he was supposed to be, and volunteered for all overtime.
In ten years of working with ex-cons, Jayden had never felt as strongly that one of his clients was innocent of reoffending.
Problem was, there was always a chance that he was wrong. Lord knew, he made mistakes.
But his job became clear to him as he sat in the prosecutor’s office, looked her in the eye and promised her he’d protect Suzie from her ex-husband.
He’d keep an eye on Bill, all right. He’d catalog every move the man made, if that’s what it took to prove to law enforcement, to judges, and to one far too alluring prosecutor, that Bill Heber was not a wife beater. And if he was wrong about Bill, he’d find that out before the man had a chance to hurt anyone again.
In the meantime he’d pray for all he was worth that whoever was hurting that woman was caught and dealt with.
Chapter 3
Most days Emma was confident. Sure of herself and of her place in the world. Felt good about her personal contribution to the universe. She really believed she knew herself, had a handle on her faults, was accountable to her mistakes, and understood her limitations. She paid attention. She owned her shortcomings.
She’d been through counseling after her last disastrous relationship. And again, when, six months before, her biological clock had been ticking double time, and she had to face the fact that while she didn’t want to marry the type of man she fell for—didn’t want a relationship with that type of man—she did most desperately want a family. She hadn’t doubted herself at all as she’d gone through the testing process to have herself inseminated with anonymous donor sperm, chosen from a catalog at the clinic.
But as she sat in the fertility clinic office an hour after her meeting with Jayden Powell on Wednesday morning, she was quaking. Inside and out.
She could have taken a home pregnancy test. Her insemination doctor had given her time tables and suggestions for doing so. She just wasn’t ready to bring the whole concept home yet.
Her friends thought she should get a cat. If they only knew...
Marta, her law school study partner and more of a soul friend than the others, would get it. Lori and Stef, she wasn’t sure, which was part of the reason she hadn’t yet told them what she was doing. They’d worry about her juggling a career that took as much emotional energy as hers did—one that tended to harden a person due to the dregs of society that she dealt with more often than not—with being a single mother.
Especially Stef, the oldest of the four of them. A grandmother who’d opened a small family law firm and dealt with broken families all day every day. Stef would probably think she was being selfish.
Was she?
Maybe the procedure hadn’t been successful. Dr. Mobin had explained that it often took more than the one try.
She’d been devastated by the way her marriage had ended. Had taken years to get over the damage it had done. Whatever of it she’d ever get over, that was. Her ability to tru
st would never be what it was.
And she’d been equally destroyed, in a completely different way, by her only other live-in relationship. She’d hurt a dear, sweet man by her inability to fall completely in love with him. Or to feel any passion for him at all, really.
Drake, the duplicitous risk-taker she’d married in law school, had turned her into a wild woman. And John, one of the few men she’d really trusted, hadn’t ignited a single spark. Ms. Shadow Side lived on the wrong track, forcing Emma to shut that train down. Permanently. But she still wanted to be a mother—longed to be a part of a family of her own—and this was the best way for her to do that.
“Ms. Martin?” the dark-haired receptionist called from the door.
She jumped up while her stomach did flip-flops. A baby in there? Upset that she’d moved so quickly?
Oh, God. What if she wasn’t pregnant?
Her mom and dad, who lived near her younger sister in Florida, already had a slew of grandkids. Their grandbaby expectations where she was concerned weren’t high. And Anna, her sister, would definitely prefer that Emma not procreate. She’d always been jealous of Emma, though loving, too. She’d made it no secret to Emma that while their parents were hugely proud of Emma professionally, she liked getting all the grandkid attention.
Emma stepped on the scale. She weighed in one pound heavier! Because she was pregnant! Was she really ready to be a single mom? To have her life change so drastically.
And forever?
Did you want to consider a future with no family of your own? No! came the immediate mental response. She’d always pictured herself as a mother someday. Raising a child. Giving all of the unconditional love that waited down deep inside her. And the past year, she’d felt like every day she was getting older and her whole life was going to be empty if she didn’t start the process. Career success wasn’t enough anymore. If it ever had been. Wanting a family had always been there. She’d just always figured she’d figure it out in the future. That there was time. Until her birthday had come around again and she’d started to panic.
Taking a seat on the chair in the examining room—she was only there for consultation that morning, for results of the blood test she’d submitted to the day before—she looked at the table, remembering how she’d felt during the insemination process.
How hopeful. And excited.
And how scared she’d been that night, home alone. Lying in bed in the dark, knowing that it was too late to change her mind.