Page 8 of Fighting His Fate
She couldn’t hold on much longer. There were people rushing toward them down the hallway, but they seemed to be moving in slow motion. She focused her attention on the handle of the baby’s carrier, aware of Theo’s wrinkled face as he howled in protest of the alarm. She was going down, but if she could grab the carrier, she could save him.
A blow to her shoulder was the final straw. Her grip on the doorframe failed, and she dove for Theo’s carrier with all her weight. It dropped from the man’s grip and hit the ground a moment before Grace did. She threaded her arms through the handle of each bucket seat.
She was aware of the man getting away, of the crowd and the chaos and the horrible sound that filled the space. But all that mattered was that the boys were okay.
She unstrapped the screaming Theo and pulled him into her arms. The alarm stopped and people crowded around her. Suddenly, her neighbor Brett Champion appeared in the open doorway, sweating and breathing heavily. “He got away,” he barked.
She cocked her head, nonplussed. “What the hell are you doing here?”
6
Grace’s handswouldn’t stop shaking, the Styrofoam cup of coffee trembling against her lips. The babies slept safely in their carriers several feet from where she stood, the boys seemingly no worse for wear despite their ordeal, but safety was an elusive state for Grace in that moment.
Her eyes shifted to the far corner of the room where Champion talked with two men, and she desperately wanted to speak to him, to thank him for his help trying to apprehend her attacker. She had no idea what he was doing here, but she couldn’t have been more grateful for his unexpected presence. Her attitude toward him would never be the same, that much was certain.
A policeman with a rounded belly approached, smoothing his thinning white hair. “Miss Bryant, I’d like you to sit with our sketch artist. See if you can get down any recollections while they’re still fresh.”
“I told you, I didn’t get a good look at his face.”
“Any detail, no matter how small—”
Toby twisted in his sleep, his head turning from one side to the other, and she moved toward him, unbuckling his harness just as he made his first squawk. “Shh,” she hushed him, cradling him in her arms and stroking his feather-soft hair.
She addressed the officer. “He smelled like cigarettes and he had very white teeth. That’s all I can tell you, truly.”
“Maybe if you sat with the artist, you’d remember something more.”
She was exhausted, stressed to her breaking point, and her tone lacked flexibility. “I don’t think so.”
The officer relented with a small nod. “If you’re sure.”
“Positive.”
Champion crossed the room, his eyes fixed on the carrier, and dropped to a squat in front of the sleeping Theo. She furrowed her brow, a wave of protectiveness rising up within her, but said nothing until he stroked the baby’s cheek. “What are you doing?” she blurted, her voice full of the stress she’d been drowning in tonight.
He rose slowly and turned to face her, his stare locking with hers, and her stomach knotted tightly before his eyes moved to Toby in her arms. “Looking at the babies.”
He was just being kind, and she was an irrational wreck. She closed her eyes on a long blink. “I’m sorry, Mr. Champion. I’m rather on edge.”
“You probably will be for a while.”
“Yes.” She shifted her weight. “What you did tonight…” She searched for the right words, deciding it was best to keep it simple. “Thank you for chasing that man, even if he got away.”
“You’re welcome.”
She wasn’t used to men coming to her rescue, to anyone coming to her rescue, for that matter. Her real mother had always taught her to be fiercely independent, and the feeling gave her the sudden and intense urge to cry. She lifted her chin, determined not to let the weakness show. “What brought you to the hospital tonight?”
He looked away, pausing before he answered. “There was an accident.”
The accident that had taken the twins’ parents? Did he have some personal connection to the victims? Before she could ask, John joined them, resting his hand on the small of her back. “Thank God the boys are all right,” he said.
Grace shuddered. The alternative was horrifying. In just a few short hours, she’d become attached to these children, the role of temporary caregiver seeming far more important since the babies had been orphaned. They had no one in this world, and for the moment, she was all they had left.
“Would you like to hold him?” asked John. She tilted her head and eyed him questioningly. He gestured toward Champion, and her lips parted in surprise. What did her neighbor have to do with the children?
Champion shook his head. “No.”
“He won’t bite,” said John, taking the babe out of her arms and leaving her incredulous as he crossed to the other man.
