The Mortal Groove by Ellen Hart Page A

an obsession. Margaret was the reason Sigrid refused to have another child. Nobody in the family knew about the baby Sigrid had given birth to while living in New York—nobody except Peter. Everyone thought Sigrid had gone off to the Big Apple after graduating from high school to “find herself.” It was such a hopeless cliche, people laughed and then let it go. Sigrid had returned home the following year, entered the University of Minnesota in the spring, and gone on with her public life as if nothing had happened. But privately, it was a different matter.
    Because of Margaret, Peter and Sigrid would never have a child together. That knowledge clawed at his insides until he felt like screaming. The one thing he wanted most in the world—a child with the woman he loved—was never going to happen.
    It wasn’t that Peter was angry at Sigrid. Far from it. When she’d come clean, told him why she refused to get pregnant, he was horrified to hear how her high school boyfriend had treated her, how Sigrid had agonized over her decision, whether to abort or give birth to the child, whether to keep her or put her up for adoption. In the end, Sigrid said she found the best family she could to raise her child and had given her up. Peter tried to make her see that what she’d done was the best thing possible for both of them, but Sigrid didn’t agree. Of course she knew that as a young, single mother with no skills and no education, she could easily have ruined the child’s life. Or the child could have ruined hers. She’d done the best with the cards she’d been dealt, tried to act responsibly, but she also said she had to be honest. Her decision was selfish. She’d put herself and her future before her child’s.
    Sigrid had only seen Margaret briefly in the hospital, but after carrying her for nine months, the sight of her cemented an already strong bond. The idea of hurting her a second time was too much. She asked Peter a question. What if Margaret came looking for her one day and found her. And what if Sigrid was living with Peter and their child. The idea of looking into Margaret’s eyes and seeing the pain and rejection just stopped her cold. At least, if she didn’t have another child, it would present a different picture. Maybe Margaret would think that Sigrid wasn’t the maternal type. That she’d done her a favor. But if Margaret saw her with a child—or children—around her, childrenshe loved and who loved her in return, what could Sigrid say? Gee, too bad about that, Margaret. Bad timing. Hope you had a nice childhood. Sorry I didn’t have time to be around.
    It was impossible.
    Peter tried to get her to see that she could simply ask Margaret to forgive the seventeen-year-old girl she’d once been, that her decision had been the right one for both of them, but nothing he said made a dent in her resolve. Sigrid insisted that giving Margaret up was the biggest mistake of her life, that Margaret should be with
her
—not the Tanhauers, no matter how super a set of parents they turned out to be.
    And that’s what got Peter to thinking. If, for some reason, the Tanhauer family hadn’t turned out to be the Brady Bunch, then maybe there was a chance he could reunite Margaret and Sigrid. He didn’t have a clue how it would actually happen, but before he could come up with a plan, he had to find Margaret. He’d hired the PI in New York five days ago. He still had money from his severance package and he intended to use it to find the little girl. It made no rational sense, but he’d pretty much come to the conclusion that the Tanhauers were poison. He didn’t like to think that Margaret had spent the last ten years living with monsters, but he’d convinced himself it was the truth. Peter felt a sense of urgency now.
    â€œI’m coming, Margaret,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “Just hold on a little