He was tempted to tell her to let it go, to forget he’d asked about the call. Whatever her problems, he had a feeling she’d done more than her share of suffering already, and he didn’t want to add to her distress. But if she couldn’t trust him after he’d laid his heart bare to her, what future did they have? So he waited. At last, the tautness in her features eased and she opened her eyes. “The call was from a police detective in St. Louis.” A tremor ran through her words, and she swallowed. “Beyond that, it’s a long story.” Was she telling him that was all she intended to reveal? Or waiting for encouragement to continue? He chose to assume the latter. Reaching over, he gently touched her collarbone. “Is this scar part of that story?” “Yes.” She drew in a shaky breath. “And so is the baby.” Their fingers were still entwined, and he stroked his thumb over the back of her hand. As long as she was willing to answer his questions, he intended to keep probing.
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