She pressed the brakes as she came to a four-way stop, but the brake pedal went clear to the floor. She gasped and pumped the pedal again. No response. The car shot through the intersection, barely missing the tail end of another vehicle that had entered it before her.
Hands gripping the steering wheel, she struggled to keep the car on the road as she frantically thought of a way to bring it to a stop that didn’t involve hitting another car or a tree. The baby in her belly kicked as if he or she knew their lives hung suspended in time.
“We’re going to make it, little one. We have to. I can’t leave you alone.” No one would love her baby if she died. Her mother couldn’t care for her child. She cared more about her drugs than anything else.
Lisa tried to tamp down her rising emotions, but she’d never been so frightened. The car fishtailed on the sandy road as she forced it back from the shoulder. Huge trees lined the pavement in a dense formation. Where could she drive off into relative safety? A field sprawled over on the right, just past the four-way stop ahead. If she made it through, it seemed the only place where they might survive.
Had the brakes been cut? What else could it be? She’d just had the car serviced.
Lisa approached the stop sign much too fast. The slight downhill slope had only accelerated the speed that hovered at nearly seventy. Her mouth went bone dry.
Her future with her child and the love of her life depended on the next few moments.
She could do it—she had to.
The tires squealed as the car barely held on to the road through the slight turn at high speed. Before Lisa could breathe a sigh of relief, a lumbering truck approached from the right side, and she laid on her horn with all her strength. She unleashed a scream as the car hurtled toward the big dump truck.
The violent impact robbed her lungs of air, and she blacked out. When she came to, she was in an ambulance. She fought back the darkness long enough to tell the paramedic, “Save my baby. Please . . .”
She whispered a final prayer for God to take care of her child before a darker night claimed her.
Chapter 1
Present Day
Clearwater, Florida
The examination table was cold and hard under her back as Harper Taylor looked around the room. She focused on the picture of a familiar Florida beach, which helped block out the doctor’s movements and the smell of antiseptic. She’d been on the beach at Honeymoon Island yesterday, and she could still smell the briny scent of the bay and hear the call of the gulls. The ocean always sang a siren song she found impossible to resist.
Calm. Peace. The smell of a newborn baby’s head.
“All done.” Dr. Cox’s face came to her side, and she was smiling. “Lie here for about fifteen minutes, and then you can get dressed and go home.” She tugged the paper sheet down over Harper’s legs.
“How soon will I know if the embryo transfer was successful?” Though she’d researched the process to death, she wanted some assurance.
“Two weeks. I know right now it seems like an eternity, but those days will pass before you know it. I’ve already submitted the lab requisition for a beta-HCG test. If we get a positive, we’ll track the counts every few days to make sure they are increasing properly.” Dr. Cox patted her hand. “Hang in there.” She exited the room, leaving Harper alone to stare at the ceiling.
Her longing for a child brought tears to her eyes. She’d felt empty for so long. Alone. And she’d be a good mom—she knew she would. All the kids in the church nursery loved her, and she babysat for friends every chance she got. She had a wealth of patience, and she’d do everything in her power to make sure her child knew she or he was wanted.
She slipped her hand to her stomach. The gender didn’t matter to her at all. She could love either a boy or a girl. It didn’t matter that this baby wasn’t her own blood. The little one would grow inside her, and the two of them would be inseparable.
Once the fifteen minutes were up, she was finally able to go to the bathroom and get dressed. She already felt different. Was that a good sign, or was it all in her head? She slipped her feet into flip-flops, then headed toward the reception area.
The tension she’d held inside melted when she saw her business partner, Oliver Jackson, in the waiting room, engrossed in conversation with an attractive woman in her fifties. She hadn’t been sure he’d be here. He’d dropped her off, then gone to practice his bagpipes with the band for the Scottish Highland Games in April. He said he’d be back, but he often got caught up in what he was doing and lost track of time. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d stood her up.
Oliver was a big man, well over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a firm stomach from the hours spent in his elaborate home gym. She’d always wondered if he colored his still-dark hair or if he was one of those lucky people who didn’t gray early.
Even here in a fertility clinic, this man in his sixties turned women’s heads. She’d watched them fawn over him for years, and he’d had his share of relationships over the fifteen years since his divorce. But Oliver never stuck with one woman for long. Was there even such a thing as a forever love? She hadn’t seen any evidence of it, and it felt much safer to build her life without expecting that kind of faithfulness from any man. Having a child could fill that hole in her heart without the need to be on her guard around a man.
He saw her and ended his conversation, then joined her at the door. His dark-brown eyes held concern. “You changed your mind?”
She shook her head. “Not a chance.”
“It seems an extreme way to go about having a family. You’re only thirty. There’s plenty of time to have children in the traditional way.”
“Only thirty? There’s not even a boyfriend in the wings. Besides, you don’t know what it’s like to long for a family all your life and never even have so much as a cousin to turn to.” She knew better than to try to explain her reasons. No one could understand the guard she’d placed around her heart unless they’d lived her life.
His brow creased in a frown. “I tried to find your family.”
“I know you did.”
All he’d discovered was her mother, Lisa Taylor, had died moments after Harper’s birth. Oliver had never been able to discover her father’s name. Harper still had unpleasant memories of her grandmother, who had cared for Harper until she was eight before dying of a drug overdose at fifty. Hard as those years were, her grandmother’s neglect had been better than the foster homes where Harper had landed.
This embryo adoption was going to change her life.
“I’ll get the car.”
She nodded and stepped outside into a beautiful February day that lacked the usual Florida humidity. Oliver drove under the porte cochere, and she climbed into his white Mercedes convertible. He’d put the top down, and the sound of the wind deterred further conversation as he drove her home.
He parked along the road by the inlet where she’d anchored her houseboat. “Want me to stay awhile?”
She shook her head. “I’m going to lie on the top deck in the sunshine and read a book. I’ll think happy thoughts and try not to worry.”
His white teeth flashed in an approving smile. “Sounds like a great idea.”