heartbeat was back, twice as fast as before. "Another I don't know if you heard the news a few weeks ago. A mother abandoned her newborn near the side door of a 146.

hospital in Dallas. The baby is mixed race. The mother is a sixteenyear-old African-American; the father is a teenage Caucasian. Anyway, the baby has been living with a short-term foster family while the courts decide what to do."

The facts swirled about in Erin's mind. She wrinkled her brow and gave Sam a gentle push. He eased himself up onto his elbow. "What is it?" he mouthed.

She covered the mouthpiece. "The social worker. She's telling me about another baby."

Sam sat up and hugged his pillow to his midsection, watching her, listening to her end of the conversation.

A bit of joy sang out in the social worker's voice: "The mother gave birth to the baby in her bedroom, snuck out the window, and walked two blocks to the hospital, where she wrapped her in a sweatshirt and left her with a note."

"A note?"

"Yes. Her parents are very strict, a Christian couple who never approved of their daughter's dating the young man. Apparently he was an athlete with a penchant for beer and fast cars. The young girl went out with him anyway, and that first night she believes she was date-raped. She was afraid her parents would disown her, so she left the baby at the hospital. Now that her parents know the truth, the family is in counseling. I think they'll be okay, actually.

The girl doesn't want the baby and neither do her parents. The boy has already signed off any rights to the baby, so he isn't an issue."

"And..." Erin's body was tense, every fiber in her being waiting for the woman to get to the point. "What did the courts cide?"

"The mother was charged with abandonmentwthough doubt she'll be convicted because of her age. And the judge declared the baby immediately available for adoption. I had marked your case a top priority because of what happened with Candy." The woman hesitated. "She's a beautiful, healthy little girl, Erin. The judge wanted her placed outside the Dallas area 147 kingsbury smalley because of the publicity surrounding the situation." She paused. "Would you and Sam be interested?"

Erin's mouth hung open. "Interested?" She wanted to toss the phone in the air and jump around the room. Instead she gathered her emotions and swallowed, searching for her voice. "Yes, we're very interested. Can I call you back in five minutes?"

The social worker agreed. Erin hung up and stared at Sam. "God did it, Sam! We prayed last night and now.., wait until you hear."

She told him the entire story and that the social worker was waiting for an answer. Race wasn't an issue because they'd decided that a year ago when they first considered adoption. color isn't all we make it out to be," Sam had told her back 'I think God must be up there shaking his head, wonder-why we chose that as such a dividing line among peoples of world."

never thought of it that way." Erin had looked at him, by the idea. "We could're divided ourselves by eye color ht or hair color just as easily."

He gave her a sad smile. "Can you imagine? You have Our groups of people would've been with each other through the centuries. One sex of bath-and eating areas for brown-eyed people, one for blue-And since there're more brown-eyed people in the world, folks would be the minority group."

idea was ludicrous, .the same way any discrimination on color was ludicrous.

course, when they had learned about Candy, their about race were no longer an issue. Candy was white, her children were white. But still Erin had expected that down the road they might adopt a biracial baby or a Hispanic child.

his-eyes and stared at her, disbelief shading his ex-"You mean somewhere in Dallas there's a little girl be ours in a few days?"

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"Yes." Erin bit the inside of her lip. "Can you believe it, Sam?" She looked up at the ceiling and shook her head. "How can this be anything but a miracle?"

The phone was lying on the bed between them. Sam picked it up and tossed it to her. "Call, Erin. Before something else happens."

Erin laughed and had the number dialed before she drew her next breath. She told the social worker yes, they wanted the baby girl. The two of them made plans to pick up the child the following weekend at the social service office in Dallas.

The worker in charge of the case would be there all day Saturday.

When Erin hung up the phone, she was shaking. She shared the information with Sam, and they laughed and hugged and rehashed the details again and again. It was amazing, that just the day before they had wondered if they'd ever be parents and now, in a few days, they would bring home their first child.

"I can't wait to call my mom." Erin sucked in a quick breath. Her mother was having a hard time. She hadn't said so, but Ashley and Kari and Brooke had kept her posted. The treatment was rougher than any of them had expected. The news about the baby was bound to lift her spirits.

"I still can't imagine dropping your baby off and walking away." Sam climbed out of bed and stretched. "Angels must've been watching over that baby."

"Definitely."

For the briefest moment, Erin thought about Candy, about the newborn who was going to have such a different life now than the one she would've had with them.

But just as quickly she put the thought out of her mind. God had given them a different little girl, one she was already starting to love and dream about.

Sam was getting dressed for work when he stopped and grinned at Erin. "We forgot one thing." He hopped a bit closer, his pants not quite on. "What do we call her?"

A feeling of sadness and far-off possibility wrapped itself around Erin's heart, and she tilted her head. "I'm not sure."

149.

"What about Amy Elizabeth?" Sam's voice was tender, aware that the name they had planned for Candy's daughter might strike a nerve.

Erin smiled and shook her head. "No, Sam. Anything but Amy Elizabeth." She crossed the room and kissed his forehead as he finished getting dressed. "That name will always belong to a different little girl. Even if we never meet her this side of heaven."

150.

151.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

Daymen Matthews was trying to concentrate.

"Okay, Matthews, let's have you in the stairwell. The scene you running up and we'll take it from there."

"Got it." Dayne entered the building, sidestepped, around cameramen, and stood on the second stair.

"Places everyone," someone yelled. "We need it quiet." Dayne went over his lines one more time. The movie was a and he was the lead. The scene they were filming in-his breaking into an apartment and rescuing his girl-from two criminals who had taken her hostage.

He was supposed to knock out the kidnappers, grab her, with the handcuffs on her wrists, and then lead her h a hallway, out a fire escape, and down into an alleyway. he was supposed to pick the lock on the handcuffs and the bad guys firing guns in the distancemkiss her, passionate, before they ran for their lives. He'd already p three times. Twice he tripped on the stairs and once ran to the wrong apartment door.

The scene was one of the most intense in the movie, and 152 REUNION.

though they had another week left of shooting in Manhattan, the expectancy on the set made it feel like the movie might make it or break it depending on how they pulled off this scene.

But all Dayne could think about was the photograph on Luke Baxter's desk.

"Ready Matthews?" the director shouted at him from the street.

"Ready." He bent his knees and locked his arms in a running motion. Next he worked on his expression. Intense and frightened and bent on revenge all at once, that's what the scene called for.

"And... three.., two.., one.., action!"

Dayne sprang up the stairs, breathing hard, his footsteps quiet and stealthlike.

Cameras followed his actions both from in front of and behind him as he tore down the hallway and stopped at the first door on the left. He put his ear to it, his hands shaky from the tension of the moment.

The subtle sound of voices came from inside, but Dayne pursed his lips and worked his face into a mask of determination. Then he grabbed the doorknob and shoved his shoulder hard into the door.

"Bill!" Sarah Whitley, his leading lady, shouted her line exactly on cue.

At the same time, two buff men wearing dark sunglasses came at him, but Dayne ignored them. He went straight to Sarah and grabbed her handcuffs, shaking them, looking for a way to release her hands.

"Cut!" The director shouted the word through the bullhorn. "Wait there, Matthews. I'm coming up."

Everyone in the room went quiet, and Dayne looked from Sarah to the actors playing the kidnappers. "What?" His eyes found Sarah again just as he remembered.

"The kidnappers," she whispered at him and made an apologetic face. "You're supposed to fight them off, remember?"

The director stormed into the room, his face beet red. "You're 153 kingsbury smalley dead, Matthews. These are some of the toughest criminals in New York City and they're guarding your girl. You can't walk past them and start fiddling with Sarah's handcuffs; get that?"

Dayne huffed quietly and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry."

"Yeah," the director barked at him and shot a look at the others. "It better not happen again. We're spending tens of thousands of dollars a day here, Matthews.

You're a professional; now come on. Let's make it work."

"It won't happen again." Dayne lifted his eyes to the director.

do we take it from?"

"The top." The director spun around and marched into the hallway and down the stairs. He used his bullhorn to say, "Places everyone. Let's try it again."

Sarah squeezed Dayne's arm and gave him a nervous smile. "Where are you today?"

"Not here." He lifted his shoulders once, turned, and headed down the hallway.

Cameramen followed, one of them finding his place at the far hallway facing the stairs, the other at the opposite end corner, ready to capture Dayne's back as he sped past and for the apartment door.

Dayne headed down the stairs and took his spot again. "Places, people!" The director's tone was still sharp, tense. The sounds around Dayne faded.

Why had the photograph looked so familiar? And what was it about Luke Baxter that had caught his attention? Why was he thinking about the kid a month after their meeting? Things like this didn't happen to him. He was a busy man, a person who conversations like the one he'd had with Luke the last he was in Manhattan.

: But the memory of that time had stayed with him every day Even now, in the midst of the most important scene of a he was being paid millions to film, Dayne couldn't think 154.

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of anything else. All he wanted to do was forget the shoot and find the law offices of Morris and McKenzie. Maybe he'd look at the picture again and the feeling would go away. Maybe those people in the photo would look like any other couple from the sixties. Dayne clenched his teeth and forced himself into position.

Or maybe not.

"Ready, Matthews?"

The question snapped him to attention. "Ready," he shouted loud enough for the street crew to hear him.

"Okay, quiet on the set. Three... two.., one.., action!" Dayne darted up the stairs, fully intent on the scene now, He burst into the apartment and fought with the kidnappers. When they were on the ground, knocked out, he wrestled with Sarah's handcuffs for a few seconds. One of the men on the floor made a moaning sound.

Dayne grabbed Sarah's hand. "Come on." He pulled her behind him into the hallway.

"They'll come after us!" Sarah was perfectmher facial expression, her timing, all of it.

Dayne fed off her strength and doubled his effort at having the right expression, the right speed as they headed down the hall. At the fire escape, Dayne did as he was supposed to and shimmied down ahead of her, careful to help her since she was still handcuffed.

"You can do it; hurry." His timing was on. They would get it done this time around; he was sure.

They were almost at the bottom of the fire escape when the sound of bullets pierced the air. Dayne cast an intense look up toward the hallway. "We have to hurry!"

Just then in the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of a familiar building.

The building that housed Morris and McKenzie's law offices. No, Matthews, not now. He jumped to the ground and helped Sarah. Then he ducked her into an alcove and worked a bent paper clip into her handcuffs.

155.

The scene was a mixture of passion and danger, and Sarah was playing her part perfectly. Her chest heaved as Dayne worked on her hands, and the whole time her eyes never left his face. He her hero, her rescuer.

The moment the handcuffs were off, Dayne dropped them, grabbed Sarah's hand, and started running.

"Cut!" The director was closer this time, just fifteen yards . "Am I seeing things or did Dayne Matthews just forget to kiss the girl?"

The kiss! Dayne wanted to slip into the nearest manhole, How could he have forgotten the kiss? He and Sarah had run lines the before in his trailer and practiced the kiss for half an hour.

She was gorgeous and he could feel her falling for him. Without doubt the kiss figured to be the best part of the scene. How could he have forgotten it?

"Maybe we need more practice." Sarah elbowed him and bit lip.

He could tell she wanted to laugh, but the director didn't aplaughter in light of mistakes. Especially during serious scenes.

It broke the mood and robbed the shoot of the intensity had to carry over into the film.

The two of them stepped into the alley and waited. Dayne the sympathy from just about everyone else on the set.

The director took long strides in their direction. He looked at and clapped his hands. "You were perfect, Sarah. Right He nodded toward the catered food wagon. "Go get some-to eat."

"Yes, sir." Sarah gave Dayne one more worried look, tossed hair over her shoulder, and did as she was told.