“I’m showing.” Glumly, I stared at my reflection and accepted the obvious.

I wouldn’t be able to hide it anymore.

“You look beautiful,” Florence said, coming up behind me and hugging me. Then she patted my belly. She’d been delighted when I guided her hand to it a week earlier, letting her feel the definite baby bump.

I kept waiting for the baby’s first movement, but it hadn’t happened yet.

“You’re beautiful, and I don’t know how you manage to dress the way you do—most women wear these awful clothes when they’re pregnant, it’s like…” Florence just made a face. “It’s horrible.”

“It’s just the fashion industry.” I laughed as she pulled away. Moving closer to the mirror, I checked my make-up. Then I checked the baby bump again. “They haven’t figured out that being pregnant doesn’t mean you have to look like a cow. That takes another…oh, twenty years. Thirty years. I don’t even know.”

“Well, I’ll have to keep in mind what you’re doing.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “Why are you so glum-looking? You said you and Glenn are getting along wonderfully and you look beautiful. Are you…you’re not regretting the baby, are you?”

“No!” Turning to face her, I gasped. “I’m so excited about her.” I laid a hand protectively on the swell, even as I inadvertently revealed what I thought I might be having.

“Her, huh?” Florence wiggled her eyebrows. “Okay, if you’re excited, what’s the problem?”

“It’s…” Flushing, I looked away. It was the same thing I'd worried about from the first moment I'd discovered I was pregnant. “Things are different for pregnant women in my time, Florence. It’s not such a big deal. It can be hard, sure. But I’ve got a family who loves me and women aren’t looked at like they’re pariahs. Once people figure it out and they realize I’m not married…”

Florence waved a hand. “That’s going to change, I think. And soon.”

I wasn’t betting on it.

“I want you to take Harrison with you,” Florence said.

“It’s okay. Let him have the night off. He works so hard.”

Florence laid a hand on my arm. “Please, take Harrison with you. I can’t explain why. It’s just a feeling I have. It would make me feel better.”

I could tell by the look in Florence’s eyes she wasn’t kidding, so I didn’t press it further. I had enough to be anxious about without arguing with her about taking Harrison with me to the premiere of Glenn's friend's new movie. I still wasn't entirely accustomed to being seen with him in public, and tonight, there'd be plenty of eyes on us.

I smoothed down my dress again. I wasn't ashamed of my baby, but I knew the press would love to get a picture of Glenn Jackson with his knocked-up former...current...whatever...

“Miss Maya.” Harrison appeared with a light wrap and I smiled as he draped it over my shoulders.

Perhaps it would be good to have some additional support tonight.

“Is Glenn here yet?” I asked, glancing toward the door.

Harrison shook his head. “A messenger brought by a note from Glenn saying that he's running late. He asked if I'd take you to the theater, and he'll meet you there.”

A faint stab of disappointment went through me, and I felt my smile falter. A part of me wanted to just call the whole thing off, but if the events of the past few months had taught me anything, it was that the best things worth having were those worth fighting for. I wasn't going to take the easy way out.

“Are you sure you don't mind?” I asked.

Harrison's smile was kind. “It would be my pleasure, miss.” He held out his arm. “Shall we?”

I took his arm and let him lead me to the car. I would’ve preferred to arrive with Glenn, but it wasn't important that he was in the car with me. What mattered was that the two of us were together. And after all I'd put him through, I would stand by his side in any way he wanted. Even on the red carpet.

Besides, I wasn't about to argue with Harrison when I knew he wasn't going to be pleased to learn he'd be at my side all night. He and I enjoyed each other's company, but I knew he hated anything that drew attention to himself. His mere presence was going to get people talking, and I had a bad feeling that if some particularly nasty reporter realized I was pregnant, I'd have a whole different sort of scandal to deal with.

I pushed the disturbing thoughts aside and told myself that I was going to enjoy tonight as much as possible, and what I couldn't enjoy, I'd tolerate. I owed Glenn that much at least.

I stared out the window as Harrison drove, watching the landscape pass by, trying to note all the changes, both from when I'd been here three years ago, as well as from my own time. It was strange how much was actually the same...or rather, not the same but almost like an echo, a reflection.

“How are you feeling today, Miss?” Harrison broke the silence.

Instead of giving the rote fine answer that I would’ve given a stranger, I offered an honest reply, “Nervous, but not nauseous, so that's good.”

“You have nothing to worry about, Miss Maya. You look lovely, and Mr. Jackson is completely enamored of you.”

I smiled at him, a rush of warm affection washing over me. “Thank you.”

Before either of us could say anything else, we rounded a corner and I groaned. While some things would be different in the future, the frustration of finding road construction directly in one's path was timeless.

“Don't fret,” Harrison said as the car slowed. “We're ahead of schedule.”

He sounded confident as he followed the signs to the shoulder of the road, our pace slowing to a crawl, but something dark in my gut twisted. Every warning bell that I'd been waiting to hear with Glenn, with the locket and the journal, started going off.

“This doesn't feel right,” I said, leaning forward so I was closer to Harrison's shoulder. I couldn't pin down exactly what it was I thought was out of place, but everything in me said we shouldn't be here.

Three men suddenly appeared in front of us and Harrison slammed on the brakes. I jerked forward, the front seat hitting my collarbone and shoulders hard enough to make me gasp, and then I slammed back against the seat. Harrison had braced himself against the steering wheel, so he recovered first, immediately turning around, concern written on his face.

“Are you al–”

Before he finished his question, the driver's side door opened and someone reached into the car and yanked Harrison out. I yelled, throwing myself forward, as if I'd be able to pull my friend away from the massive man I now saw.

Harrison struggled against his attacker, twisting, trying to get away as the man raised a meaty fist. The scar on his face stood out white against his tanned and weathered skin. His hair was buzzed short, and as he turned, I caught a glimpse of a gun tucked into his waistband.

Military.

And then he was throwing Harrison to the ground.

“Leave him alone!” I yelled.

I made as if to climb over the seat, not knowing what I thought I'd do when I got my hands on him, but I'd be damned if I was going to just sit here and watch some thug–

I'd made it halfway over the seat when the door closest to me opened, and an iron grip latched around my ankle.

“Get off me!” I screamed as I tried to kick at the man behind me. Unfortunately, my dress was too tight to really get any strength behind it, and I clawed at the seats as I was dragged from the car.

The moment I realized I was going to hit the ground, I let go of the seats and wrapped my arms around my middle, curling in on myself as best I could. I would take whatever pain they inflicted on me, but they wouldn't hurt my baby.

I didn't drop though. Strong arms grabbed my shoulders, pulling me upright.

“Let us go!” I managed to rake my nails down one man's arm, leaving bloody furrows that I hoped would get infected. “What the hell do you want with us?”

“Stay still, or you're going to get seriously hurt.” The man I'd scratched yanked my arms behind my back hard enough to make me cry out.

Something rough went around my wrists, but I barely felt it. My mind was racing a million miles a minute, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I had to get free. I had to save my baby. I had to save Harrison.

My ankles were tied next and then I was picked up. I wanted to struggle again, force him to drop me, but he'd wrapped his arms around my waist, and I could feel the edge of the gun against my stomach. He probably didn't know I was pregnant, but I couldn't take that risk. Not even for Harrison.

I was dumped into the trunk of their car, and the last thing I saw before everything went dark was Harrison crumpling to the ground.

I pounded on the lid, screaming for them to stop, to let me go, to change this insanely awful decision they'd made.

A loud thump stopped me, then a growling voice let loose a stream of profanity that ended with, “shut the fuck up!!”

I dropped my hands, forced myself to take slow breaths. I wasn't stopping because I was following orders. The man's cursing had jarred me back into sanity. If those were the only men around, there was no point in me continuing to yell. They already knew I was in here, and they weren't going to let me out. I had to save my energy, use my head...

“That asshole broke my nose!” The same voice that had shouted at me was talking again.

A few muttered responses followed, all too low for me to hear, but then the man who'd carried me to the trunk said something that made me hold my breath as I waited for the answer.

“Did you kill him? We can't have him telling the cops what happened. Has to look like the girl vanished.”

I heard nothing for several agonizing seconds, and then...

“He's not going to be a problem anymore.”

I shoved my hand over my mouth to stifle a sob. They had to be wrong. Harrison couldn't be dead. He'd always been there for me. Protected me. Believed in me. He couldn't die like this. Not for me. I couldn't have been sent back to save Florence, only to lead my other friend to his death.

I was so caught up in my grief, that I barely heard the last thing they said before the car doors closed and the engine started up.

“Take this and the old guy's car. Give it to our client as proof we got the girl. Don't forget to get the second half of the money. I'll lock this one up in the cabin.”

Someone had hired them to do this, which meant this wasn't a simple snatch and grab. These guys weren't calling the shots. If I was going to get myself out of this alive, I needed to use my time to try to figure out who could want me gone, and how I was going to escape.