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Authors: Shirlee McCoy

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FIVE

P
regnant?!

Ford tried to wrap his mind around the word, tried to make sense of it.

“What did you say?” he asked by rote, knowing that he hadn’t been mistaken in what he’d heard.

“I’m pregnant,” Olivia repeated, her face pale in the dim light, her eyes wide and filled with apprehension.

“Whose is it?” The question popped out without thought, and Olivia stiffened, her lips tightening into a thin line. She didn’t speak, just stared him down, daring him to repeat the question.

He didn’t.

He knew the answer. Had known it before he’d even asked the question. Olivia wasn’t the kind for one-night stands. Though he’d refused to attend service with her, Olivia had always believed that Sunday mornings were for church. It wasn’t just the place, though, that drew her there. It was a deep-seated faith that he’d only just recently begun to understand. That faith had given Olivia a strong sense of morality and belief in the sanctity of marriage. She’d made that clear when they were dating, told him that she planned to have only one great love. He’d felt privileged to be the one.

Unfortunately, he’d been too much of a fool to act like it.

“I’m sorry.” He issued the apology through the hard, tight knot in his throat. Olivia was pregnant with his child. He’d spent thirty-four years saying he’d never be a father. Now the choice had been taken from him. Whether he liked it or not, he was going to have an innocent life in his hands.

And he’d ruin it just as his father had. Just as his grandfather had.

“You should be,” Olivia bit out, turning away to stare out her window, arms hugged tight around her waist. Her shoulders and back were as slender as ever, the line of her jaw unchanged. If anything, she seemed more slender than when he’d last seen her, but, then, he hadn’t gotten a good look at her stomach, had had no reason to study it. Now he wished he’d looked. Maybe he would have noticed the pregnancy and been spared the surprise. At least then he could have thought through what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it. The last thing Olivia needed was to be hurt by his careless words.

“I’d ask you how it happened, but I guess I know.”

“The pregnancy doesn’t change anything, Ford. You’re under no obligation to me or my child.”


Yours?
It’s
our
child.”

“A child you don’t want.”

It was the truth. He couldn’t deny it. He’d been born from three generations of bad fathering. His great-grandfather was an alcoholic who abused his children. His grandfather abandoned his wife and son. Ford’s father had been no better. By the time Ford was twelve, his dad was gone, leaving his children with a drug-addicted mother who was incapable of caring for her family.

Ford had no plans to continue that legacy.

Yet it seemed he was about to.

“I’ve never made my feelings about having kids a secret.”

“And I never would have purposely gotten pregnant no matter how much I wanted a child. But it happened, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t happy about it,” she said, not turning away from the window.

“We’ll work it out.” It was all he could manage, and it wasn’t enough. He knew it, but could offer nothing else.


We
won’t do anything, Ford. You’ll drive me to wherever the FBI wants me to go. Then you’ll go back to Chicago and get on with your life.”

“You know that’s not how it’s going to work.”

“Why not? During our marriage, you made it more than clear you didn’t want children. You made it pretty clear you didn’t want me, either. As scary as the past few months have been, they’ve taught me something, Ford. I’m just fine on my own. I don’t need you or our marriage to be happy.”

“This isn’t about either of us being happy. This is about our child needing a father,” he said, gritting his teeth to keep from saying more.

“There are plenty of children being raised without fathers. My baby will be just fine.”


Our
baby.”

She whipped around, her eyes flashing with anger.
“You don’t want this baby.”

“The baby is coming whether I want it or not. And I plan to take responsibility for it.”

“It? It! We’re talking about a child,” Olivia responded, her words tight and controlled as if she were afraid to let loose the emotions Ford could see clearly in her eyes. Anger. Frustration. Fear.

What did she think he would do? Demand custody of the baby? Demand she end the pregnancy?

The shrill ring of his cell phone broke through the tension in the car, and Ford grabbed it, happy for an excuse not to ask the questions spinning through his mind. “Jensen here.”

“Special Agent McGraw. Did you two come to an agreement about allowing us to bring you into headquarters?”

“We’re discussing it.”

“Discuss it quickly, because the longer you’re out on your own, the more likely it is Martino’s men will find you.”

“Who’s to say they won’t find us anyway? They did show up in Pine Bluff tonight. Or have you forgotten that?” He asked, his gaze still on Olivia. She’d turned to stare out the window again, her hair falling forward to hide her face. Was she crying?

“We’ve been working closely with the marshals to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

“Were you working closely when they found two other witnesses and murdered them?”

McGraw’s silence conveyed plenty. Irritation for one. Lack of answers for another. Ford waited him out. He’d been dealing with Special Agent Jackson McGraw since the day Olivia had called to tell him that she’d witnessed a murder and was going into the witness protection program. McGraw was professional and thorough, and he wasn’t one to speak without thinking through what he was going to say.

“Look, Ford, I know you’re worried about your wife and your child. I don’t blame you, but we can offer Olivia the kind of protection she needs to stay safe until the trial. I think you’ll agree that you can’t.”

“I can offer her anonymity.”

“Are you saying we can’t keep her hidden?”

“I’m saying what I said before, someone found her today. That makes me doubt your ability to keep her hidden until the trial.”


You
found her today. We’ve got every reason to believe that’s what led the Martinos to her.”

“We can argue all night, McGraw, but facts are facts. No one followed me to Pine Bluff. I’m sure of it. That means that someone leaked Olivia’s whereabouts to the Martino’s.”

“You’re making some major assumptions, Ford. If you were able to find her without our help, someone else could have, too.”

“Maybe.” And if not for Marshal James’s warning about a leak in the marshals, Ford might have been willing to believe that’s exactly what happened.

“Look, this isn’t something I wanted Olivia to worry about, but it’s something you need to know. Word on the street has it that the price on Olivia’s head has increased. Five hundred thousand dollars to anyone who can get rid of her before the trial.”

“How likely is that information to be true?” Ford met Olivia’s eyes, wondered if she’d heard McGraw’s words.

“Very. She might be a moving target, but she’s still a target. The sooner you get her back under our protection, the better.”

“Yours or the marshals?” No way would Ford bring her back into the marshal’s care.

“Both. I’ve got a task force assembled that is working hard to keep Olivia safe. She’ll be a lot safer with us than she will be out on the street.”

Ford glanced at Olivia again. She sat tense and still, soft
strands of dark hair falling over her shoulders. How many times had he watched her while she slept, traced her delicate features with his eyes? Wondered if he could make what they had last?

He couldn’t let her be hurt.

Wouldn’t let her be hurt. Not if he could help it.

The question was, would it safer to go it alone, or to bring in the FBI?

Ford had never been much for praying or for faith. He’d learned early that the only one he could count on was himself, but lately he’d begun to wonder if unseen hands were guiding him. If perhaps God wasn’t nearly as distant as Ford had always believed. He should have died when Martino’s men had broken into his home and questioned him about Olivia. He’d thought he
would
die. As darkness closed in, he’d done what he hadn’t in years—called out to God, begged for more time. A second chance.

He’d been given it.

He couldn’t mess it up.

What do I do, Lord? How do I keep her safe?

“You still there, Ford?”

“I’m here.”

“I need a decision, man. You know that, right?”

“Yeah. Olivia and I will fly into Chicago. I’ll call you when we get there. You can meet us at the airport or we can drive to your office.”

“That’s too dangerous. Martino’s men might have the airport staked out. Here’s what I think we need to do. You drive into Billings. Go straight to our district office. We’ll put both of you under twenty-four-hour guard and provide an armed escort back to Chicago. I’m not going to inform anyone of these plans. You shouldn’t, either. No check-ins
with the marshals and no phone calls to anyone. We can only keep you safe if we limit the number of people who know you’re coming into FBI protection.”

“Understood.”

“Do you have an ETA for Billings?”

“Three hours.”

“Call me when you get into town.”

“Will do.”

“I don’t need to remind you of how dangerous the Martinos are. Be careful, and watch your back.” McGraw hung up, and Ford slid the cell phone back into its case. McGraw was right, he didn’t need a reminder of how dangerous Martino’s men were. He wore the evidence of their brutality on his face and ribs, the scars still raw and tender. The thought of Olivia suffering a similar fate, suffering a worse one, filled him rage and fear.

He turned the ignition, the sound of the engine filling the silence.

Olivia turned, her face pale and drawn, her eyes deeply shadowed. “You could have asked me what I wanted to do, Ford.”

“I can’t risk your life, Olivia. I can’t risk the baby’s.”

“You still could have asked,” Olivia said, sounding more resigned than anything.

“So, I’m asking. Do you want to go ahead with this? Do you want us to turn ourselves in to the FBI? Or would you rather keep running and hope we escape?”

“What I want is to be back in my house in Chicago two days after Christmas. What I want is to send you away instead of letting you in.”

“Thereby keeping everything that’s happened in the past few months from happening?”

She shrugged a slender shoulder. “I’d like to say that, but even if I could go back and change things, I wouldn’t.”

Because of the baby.

She didn’t say the words, but Ford heard them.

From the time they’d met, he’d looked at Olivia and seen a woman who would make a great mother. Caring and compassionate, she had a natural affinity for children. During the first years of their marriage, she’d volunteered at the local Y, teaching ballet classes and nurturing the children in her class with selfless abandon. As his real estate business had grown, she’d given up volunteer work to help him run his office. He’d never felt guilty about that, but he should have.

There were so many things about their marriage Ford regretted, so many opportunities he’d missed, but there was one thing he couldn’t regret, and that was his unwillingness to have children. No matter how much he loved Olivia, having a child with her had never been an option.

But now it was a reality.

And he still wasn’t sure what he thought about that.

He pulled away from the rest area, the silence between Olivia and him settling as thick and deep as the night. Midnight blue, the sky seemed alive with starlight and shadows. In the distance, towering mountains were a deeper black against the sky. The road stretched out for miles, empty of cars or light. Billings was two hundred miles away. An easy drive if they didn’t run into trouble. Ford needed to focus on making sure they didn’t. Anything else would have to wait.

SIX

O
livia had never minded silence, but the silence in Ford’s car was thick and heavy with unspoken words. Olivia wanted to break it, but could think of nothing to say. She wouldn’t apologize for being pregnant. Couldn’t deny the joy it brought her. Refused to beg Ford to feel the same.

After all, she already knew how he felt. The same way her parents had felt about children—they were too noisy, too disruptive, too much trouble. As the only child of a heart surgeon and an oncologist, Olivia had lived a childhood filled with things and lacking in love. Her parents had been too busy pursuing careers to spend time with their daughter. If they had loved her, that might have been okay.

They’d tolerated her.

That’s the way Olivia had always felt. When she’d called them to say she was going into witness protection and that they’d probably never see her again, her mother had simply wished her luck. Her father had told her it was for the best that she cooperate with the FBI. She hadn’t been surprised or even hurt. She’d given up on having a relationship with her parents long ago. But living with her parents, understanding what it meant to be an unwanted child, had made her realize how much children craved
their parents’ affection. It had been that more than anything else that had kept Olivia from pressing Ford for children during their marriage.

And now she was pregnant with a child Ford didn’t want. Hot tears filled her eyes and clogged her throat, but she forced them back.

The baby she was carrying could never know that its father didn’t want him or her. No matter how much it hurt to say goodbye to Ford, no matter how much she longed to believe Ford when he said he wanted to make their marriage work, the baby had to be her first priority.

“Ford, I know that my pregnancy is a shock,” she said, breaking the silence, filling it with words that could do nothing to change the situation.

“That’s putting it mildly,” he muttered in reply, his hands fisted around the steering wheel, his tension radiating out until Olivia was sure the air was vibrating with it.

“I was shocked, too, when I found out. At first, I was sure there was some kind of mistake. I mean, what are the chances?” She laughed hollowly, wishing she were a better actress. If she wanted Ford to think she was okay and that the pregnancy hadn’t shaken her, she needed to sound more light-hearted than upset.

“Yeah. I was thinking the same.”

There was an edge to his voice that Olivia didn’t like, and she clenched her teeth to keep from lashing out. “Are you implying that I planned to get pregnant? That somehow I duped you into becoming a father?”

“I’m not implying anything. I’m
saying
that you always wanted kids. Now you’ve gotten what you wanted.”

“I didn’t come looking for you that night, Ford. You came looking for me,” she said, sick with regret and anger.

“I know that, Livy. I know.”

“And now you regret it.”

“I regret that I can’t be happy about this baby. I regret that I’ll be a failure as a father, but I don’t regret what happened that night. I don’t regret that we’re together now.”

“How can we be together when you don’t want our child? Don’t you see? It won’t work, Ford. You’ll resent the time I spend with the baby, and I’ll resent you for it. And we’ll be right back where we’ve always been. Going our own ways. Doing our own things.”

“I went my own way, Liv. You were always right there with me, coming along for the ride. I know that, and I’m not doing it again. You’re pregnant. I’ll deal with it.”

“I don’t want you to deal with it. I want…” Her voice broke, and she stopped.

“You want me to be happy. I’m not. I’m not the kind of guy who wants to hang around the house changing diapers and burping babies, and I know that will hurt you. Hurt our child.”

“How can you know that until you’ve tried?”

“Fatherhood isn’t something you try. It’s something you do, and since I learned how to be a father from the worst, I’m sure I’ll fail at it completely.”

“It’s not like my parents were peaches.”

“But you’re a different kind of person than I am, Liv. You’ve got what it takes to be a mother. What I’ve got is selfish ambition and a bucket load of drive. It takes a lot more than that to raise a kid right.” Ford’s response held no heat. If anything he sounded tired.

That was something Olivia understood. She was tired, too. Tired of running. Tired of fighting. Tired of pretending that everything was okay when the world was falling
apart around her. “I’m scared, too, Ford. I want this baby to have so much more than what either of us had, and sometimes I’m so worried that I won’t be able to provide it.”

“So we’re going to have a baby that neither of us knows how to parent. And you’re happy about that?” he snapped, and then took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right.”

“Didn’t it?” Olivia turned and stared out the window, wanting to end the conversation, return to the comforting rhythm of silence. That had been how she’d spent the months before they’d separated. Silent in the face of Ford’s rejection. No more tears when he refused to go on vacations she’d planned for them. No more arguments when he’d said he had to work late again.

“No, it didn’t. Hearing that you’re pregnant was a shock, Livy. I’m sure you realize that. I’m not thinking straight.” He paused, but Olivia didn’t speak. Ford had always been good at manipulating conversations. No matter what Olivia said, he could easily twist it to suit his purposes. Better to keep silent and let him explain exactly why having a baby wasn’t a good idea.

Then
she could tell him how much she didn’t care what he thought. The baby was coming. He’d just have to deal with it.

“Look, I’ve been on the road for the better part of three months. I’m exhausted, and I’m in no position to discuss the baby rationally. What I’m worried about right now is getting you to Billings and Special Agent McGraw. After that, we’ll have time to discuss how we’re going to handle being parents.”

Okay. That wasn’t what Olivia expected. She’d been sure he would list the top ten reasons they couldn’t be
having a baby. Maybe tell her how a child would ruin their quality of life. “How we’re going to handle being parents?”

“Yeah. The baby
is
coming, after all. Whether we’re happy about it or not.”

“I
am
happy,” she said, the tears she’d been fighting burning at the back of her throat again.

Ford’s hand dropped onto her knee, and he squeezed gently. “I know, babe, and I’m happy for you.”

Happy
for
her?

Did he really think that was enough?

“Ford—”

He shot a look in her direction, but didn’t flash the quick, charming smile that had captured her heart the day they’d met. “I’m not the same person I was in December, Livy. You may as well know that now. I’ve had to take a hard look at my life, and I don’t much like what I’ve seen. I’m trying to change, but changing is a process. It doesn’t happen overnight.”

“I know.”

“Do you? Because I’m asking you to give me time. To trust that I mean what I’m saying.”

“What are you saying, Ford?”

“That you’re not going to spend another anniversary or birthday alone. That you’ll never wait at a restaurant wondering if I’ll show up again. That you can count on me.”

“And the baby?”

“Like I said, we’ll talk about that after I get you to Billings.”

Olivia wanted to push for more, but didn’t. She’d spent a lot of time praying about sharing the news about the baby with Ford. She’d always known that if it were going to happen, God would have to orchestrate it. He had. Now
Olivia would have to wait and see what else He had planned, because as much as Olivia wanted to believe Ford had changed, she couldn’t.

Over the course of their marriage, he’d said he was sorry too many times to count. But words were a dime a dozen, and Olivia had stopped believing in them years ago. “When is Special Agent McGraw expecting us in Billings?”

“I told him three hours. Hopefully, it won’t take us much longer than that.” Ford seemed relieved to change the subject, his tight expression easing. He looked harder than he had during their marriage. Maybe it was the scar or maybe it was what he’d been through. Had the Martinos attacked him? He hadn’t denied it. Hadn’t confirmed it. Olivia needed to ask, but wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer. She’d wait for another time. A time when hearing that she’d been the reason he was hurt wouldn’t bring on the tears that threatened.

“Does Marshal McGraw know we’re headed back to Billings?” she asked, knowing she was a coward, and not caring.

“I’m not sure. Jackson mentioned a special task force. If Marshal McGraw is on it, he’ll know. Otherwise, he’s probably still in the dark.”

“Did Jackson mention the leak?”

“No, but that’s not surprising. I doubt the FBI and U.S. Marshals want the public knowing they’ve got that kind of trouble.”

“Two women have already died. You’d think people would be getting a clue.”

“If you hadn’t been in the Witness Protection Program, I probably wouldn’t have had any knowledge about the two women who were killed in Montana.”

“I’m surprised you heard about them, anyway. It seems like the story of two women being murdered several states away wouldn’t make the Chicago news.”

“I would have read the story no matter what newspaper it was in. I hired half a dozen private detectives after you called me. They were scouring newspapers, watching airports and trying to get a feel for where the marshals might have taken you.”

“Still, it’s a miracle you found me. This is a big country. It’s easy to get lost in it.”

“Yeah, that’s what Special Agent McGraw kept telling me. He said that searching for you was a waste of time and money. That you’d show up at Vincent Martino’s trial and that I could speak to you then.”

“It’s true. You could have waited until then. It would have saved you a lot of effort.”

“No, I couldn’t have waited. Martino plays for keeps, Olivia. You know that. I was worried that one of his men would find you and that you’d have to face that alone.”

“I wouldn’t have been alone. The marshals have been providing protection.”

“Which brings us right back to where we started. The marshals were providing protection for both the women who were killed. I wasn’t going to wait to see if they got it right with you.”

“The marshals are good people. They know what they’re doing.”

“You don’t have to tell me that. I saw the way they worked tonight. They’d have given their lives to protect you, but that doesn’t mean one of their numbers hasn’t gone bad. Both the women who were killed were in Montana. It seems to me, and it seemed to the private in
vestigator that brought me the article, that the Martinos’ hitmen were shooting at any target that looked promising, not caring too much if they got the right one.”

“You’re making a lot of assumptions, Ford. We don’t even know if they were murdered by the same person.”

“No? Did you realize that both victims had black marks on their hands?”

“No.”

“I spoke with some officers who worked the cases. They offered the information when they found out who I was.”

“The Montana police were impressed by the fact that you’re a Chicago real estate magnate?” No way. There had to be another reason.

“They were impressed that I survived an attack by Martino’s men. They wanted to help me find you because they were as worried as I was that you’d end up like the other two women.”

“Whoever murdered those women wasn’t necessarily gunning for me,” Olivia said, her voice faint even to her own ears. The thought of Ford being attacked by Martino’s goons sickened her. Her stomach hadn’t been quite right since she’d gotten pregnant. Would she have to ask him to pull over?

“No, but why take chances? Jackson McGraw is right to keep your Billings return under wraps.”

“I know,” she said, her gaze on the scar. Purplish-red and raised, it still looked raw.

“What happened, Ford?”

“Happened?”

She touched the scar, her fingers tracing the line of it down his cheek. “What did Martino’s men do to you?”

“They paid me a visit the day after you went into witness protection. They thought I might know where you were.”

“I’m so sorry.” Sorry he’d been hurt. Sorry that she was the reason. She should have known Ford would be in danger. She’d seen how easily Martino pulled the trigger on his rival. Seen how nonchalant he was as he’d tucked the gun back under his jacket. As if he hadn’t just put a hole through another man’s head, hadn’t used his foot to nudge the body into the river.

“It wasn’t your fault, Olivia.”

“It feels like it was.”

“Because you think if you try hard enough, if you work hard enough, you can keep bad things from happening to the people you care about. You can’t. Only God has that power.”

“God? Since when did you start talking about God?” Olivia asked, shocked by Ford’s words. He’d refused to attend church with her during their marriage. When pushed, he’d said he believed in God, but he also believed that church was for people who had nothing better to do with their time.

“Since I was staring down the barrel of a gun and realizing I might be breathing my last,” he said, fingering the scar.

The sick, churning feeling in the pit of Olivia’s stomach intensified.

“Ford—”

“Like I said, what happened wasn’t your fault. Rehashing it won’t change it. So, let’s drop the subject and move on.”

Maybe she
should
drop the subject.

Maybe she
should
move on.

But she couldn’t. She reached out, almost touched the scar again, realized what she was doing and let her hand fall away. “Were you shot?”

“I knocked the gunman’s hand to the side. The bullet that was meant for my face just grazed my cheek.”

“Just? You could have died.”

“But I didn’t. And I realized something important from the experience. Life is finite. We’re never guaranteed a second chance. I’ve got this one, Olivia. And I’m not going to mess it up. The FBI wanted me to go into witness protection after the attack, but there was no way I could do that. Not until I knew you were okay.”

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