Birthright by Nora Roberts Page B

to close away all the pain and disappointment. We were bringing our baby home. That’s all that mattered.”
    â€œBut the family,” Callie began.
    â€œWere just as concerned about her as I was,” Elliot answered. “And just as dazzled by you, as completely in love. We just set that one thing aside. Then, we moved here; it was easier yet to forget it. New place, new people. No one knew, so why bring it up? Still, I kept the documentation,the papers, though Vivian asked me to get rid of them. It didn’t seem right to do that. I locked them away, just as we’d locked away everything that happened before we brought you home.”
    â€œCallie.” Composed again, Vivian reached out. “This woman, the one who . . . You can’t know she’s involved. It’s crazy. Mr. Carlyle was a reputable lawyer. We wouldn’t have gone through anyone we didn’t absolutely trust. My own obstetrician recommended him. These men were—are—compassionate, ethical men. Hardly involved in some sort of black-market baby ring.”
    â€œDo you know what coincidence is, Mom? It’s fate breaking a lock so you can open a door. This woman’s baby was stolen on December twelfth. Three days after that, your lawyer calls and says he has a baby girl for you. The next day, you sign papers, write checks and bring me home.”
    â€œYou don’t know her baby was stolen,” Vivian insisted.
    â€œNo, but that’s easy enough to verify. I have to do this. The way my parents raised me makes it impossible for me to do otherwise.”
    â€œIf you confirm the kidnapping”—Elliot’s heart shuddered as he spoke—“there are tests that can be run to determine if . . . if there’s a biological connection.”
    â€œI know. I’ll take that step if it’s necessary.”
    â€œI can expedite that, cut through the red tape so you’ll have the results quickly.”
    â€œThanks.”
    â€œWhat will you do if . . .” Vivian couldn’t finish the sentence.
    â€œI don’t know.” Callie blew out a breath. “I don’t know. I’ll do what comes next. You’re my mother. Nothing changes that. Dad, I need to take the paperwork. I need to start checking out everyone who was involved. Dr. Simpson, Carlyle. Did you get the name of the nurse who brought me to his office?”
    â€œNo.” He shook his head. “Not that I remember. I can track down Simpson for you. It would be easier for me. I’ll make some calls.”
    â€œLet me know as soon as you find out. You’ve got mycell phone number, and I’ll leave you the number at my motel in Maryland.”
    â€œYou’re going back?” Vivian demanded. “Oh, Callie, can’t you stay?”
    â€œI can’t. I’m sorry. I love you. Whatever we find out, I’m still going to love you. But there’s a woman who’s in considerable pain over the loss of a child. She deserves some answers.”
    D oug didn’t know the last time he’d been so angry. There was no talking to his mother—he’d given that up. It was like beating your head against the iron wall that was her will.
    He was getting no help from his grandfather either. Reality, reason, reminders of the dozens of disappointments in the past did nothing to budge either of them an inch.
    And to find out that his mother had gone to this Callie Dunbrook. Actually gone to her motel room—with family pictures, yet. Humiliating herself, tearing open scars, dragging an outsider into a personal family tragedy.
    The way Woodsboro worked, it wasn’t going to take long for the Cullen family history to be dug up, sifted through and discussed endlessly all over again.
    So he was going to see Callie Dunbrook himself. To ask her not to speak of his mother’s visit with anyone—if it wasn’t too late for that. To apologize for