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Fifteen minutes of small talk later, Catie left.
* * *
Catie hadn’t come home.
Chad’s stomach churned. Was she all right? Was the baby all right?
He’d called Wayne and Maria, and then the police. No one knew where she was. Her car was gone though, so she probably hadn’t been taken. Then again, someone could have held her at gunpoint.
Chad shuffled through her bedroom like a madman, looking for clues. Nothing. Hmm…she’d set up her computer recently. He ran down the stairwell and into his office. He opened each drawer of his desk, of his credenza. Nothing again. He flew to his file cabinet, his heart stampeding, and opened each drawer, searching for something, anything.
He found it.
The file on Linda Rhine had been replaced in the cabinet backwards.
Damn! Catie must have found out about Linda’s son. Would she have gone to see Linda?
Chad cursed to himself. Damn those conniving people!
He didn’t mind taking care of the kid. The poor boy didn’t have anyone else. But damned if he’d let this situation jeopardize his marriage.
He shook his head.
Did he want this marriage after all?
Catie’s image—her soft mahogany hair, her big brown eyes, her slender and shapely legs that went on forever—eased into his consciousness. Had her image always been there? Since she’d stumbled back into his life a few weeks ago, she hadn’t left his thoughts for more than a minute at a time. His mind whirled to that fateful night in the gazebo four years ago. God, he’d wanted her, would have given his fortune for one taste of her innocent sweetness. She’d said she hadn’t yet kissed a boy.
He’d reminded her he was no boy.
She’d been a kid then—just turned eighteen. A kid in a beautiful woman’s body. He’d summoned every speck of willpower he possessed to reject her.
Now Hurricane Catie had returned, wreaking havoc in his life.
Fuck.
He’d never been so happy.
Love.
How hadn’t he recognized it? Had he been so adamant about not making a commitment that he’d been re
ady to let her walk out of his life?
Her beauty, her intelligence, her love and knowledge of horses, her clumsiness—everything about her touched his soul. God bless that ripped condom. Without it, he’d have let her go.
Determination rose within him. He’d find her and he’d keep her. Somehow, he’d convince her that his love for her was real.
Chapter Eighteen
Catie’s research online at the local library and hall of records hadn’t turned up anything important. Jack Rhine had been born in Salt Lake City a little over four years ago. Linda had lived in this little town of Applewood her whole life. She worked as a secretary for a local realtor. She seemed to be well-liked in town. Her son stayed at the local daycare center during the week. Linda’s mother and stepfather, Dorothy and Blake Smith, lived nearby. No mention of Chad McCray anywhere.
Would he deny his own son?
Catie shook her head as she closed the last document on the library computer. Perhaps she really didn’t know this man who she’d married. This man she’d loved her entire life. This man whose child she carried.
Exhausted, she plunked her head on the keyboard. Sadness overwhelmed her, trickled through every vein in her body, yet strangely her eyes produced no tears. Was she truly all cried out over Chad McCray?
She sighed. The hour was late, and a long drive home awaited her. She stood and pressed her hands onto the keyboard. A sharp pain lanced through her abdomen. She inhaled and looked down.
