Tanya Michaels - [4 Seasons 01] - Mistletoe Baby p.02

So she’d taken some personal time from work, hiking in North Georgia, taking scads of pictures and letting herself be charmed by small-town citizens.
One in particular. She’d warned David that her time here was temporary and that she wasn’t interested in a brief fling, yet she’d dated him anyway.
Guided by his vision of the future, she’d suddenly been able to see what she wanted, her nebulous plans crystallized into brilliant focus. David had made it
seem so matter-of-fact; she would move here, be with him. They would raise a family and be deliriously happy, end of story. For a woman who had always
obligingly gone with the flow, pleasing people around her and ignoring any selfish impulses, it had been intoxicating to consider such a bold move. After a
few months of long-distance dating, they’d wound up engaged and she’d moved here exactly as he’d outlined. For a little while, they had been deliriously
happy.
Now that they were apart, she’d known she couldn’t bear to stay in Mistletoe. It was too small—there wasn’t enough room for her, her ex and five years of
accumulated memories. But then, she hadn’t counted on parenting from two different zip codes. She had to figure out a life plan that was good for their
baby without jeopardizing her own sanity or further damaging her heart. David had had a point this morning; the pregnancy did change things. She just
had to figure out which things and how much.
Turning, she headed up the sidewalk, glad that she and David were arriving together so that she didn’t babble through another explanation of why they’d
taken two separate cars. Sandra opened the door, calling out a cheerful hello. As they stepped inside the two-story stone-and-wood house, each wiping
their feet on the entry mat, Sandra looked back out the glass door.
“Heck of a day we picked to have a party, huh?”
Rachel handed over her tray of sandwiches. “At least you weren’t planning to do this in the backyard.”
“I’ve cooked out in worse weather,” her husband, Pat, said as he came into the foyer to greet them.
Rolling her eyes, Sandra laughed. “My husband thinks of barbecuing as an extreme sport.”
Pat mock-glared. “Never heard you complain while eating my award-winning brisket.” He reached out and squeezed her shoulder, both of them grinning.
Rachel’s throat constricted—it was just the teasing by-play of two people in love who were comfortable with each other, but it was easy to take for granted
until you lost it. She and David hadn’t been comfortable in months; they’d become as hard and fragile as peanut brittle.
“Rachel, David.” Lilah appeared in the archway behind their hosts. “You guys made it! We’re just waiting on Amy and Steve.”
Steve played on Tanner’s softball team, and his wife, Amy, worked in the administration office of the elementary school. Gathered inside the Donavans’
living room already were Lilah’s aunt Shelby and uncle Ray, Vonda Kerrigan and her white-haired boyfriend Peter Joel and Quinn and Ari, who’d jokingly
agreed to be each other’s dates since neither of them was currently seeing anyone special. Susan and Zachariah Waide had also been invited, but they
were working at the store so their children could all attend. The Christmas season was the busiest time of year in retail.
The party kicked off the way most did in Mistletoe, with small talk while the guests piled their plates with food.
“You sit down. I’ll bring you something,” David instructed Rachel, gesturing toward the mismatched furniture. The Donavans had an adjoining dining room
and living room that worked to create one large space; obviously they’d dragged chairs and even a love seat from other areas to accommodate the large
number of guests.
She took a spot on a padded bench next to Arianne. The two of them were chatting about some upcoming holiday movies when Rachel realized her
husband had returned.
“Thank y—Good heavens.” Rachel stared, trying to decide if this was his idea of a joke.
Even Arianne blinked. “Is that for Rachel and I to share? She can’t possibly eat all that.”
David glanced at the plate that was threatening to bow under the weight of the food he’d heaped on it. “It’s not that… Okay, maybe I got carried away. But
—”
“But what?” Arianne asked.
But I’m eating for two now? Was that what David had been thinking? A silly old-time cliché that was hardly applicable in her case since the baby was
probably the size of a small lima bean. The baby. Rachel found herself grinning foolishly. Lima bean or not, it was still her baby.
“Rach? David? One of you going to tell me why you’re behaving so strangely?”
“Nothing strange,” Rachel said, her voice breathy. Miraculous, wondrous, unexpected, but not strange. “I just…haven’t had a chance to eat today. Got
caught up in that special scrapbooking project, and David’s trying to look out for me.”
“Which my wife,” David intoned, “does not always have the good sense to appreciate.”
She shot him a warning look. “Maybe I’d appreciate it if you trusted me to look out for myself. I might even appreciate looking out for someone else, not
that you ever seem to need it.”
He frowned, bemused. “So, what, you’re upset that I’m self-sufficient and successful? I thought women looked for stuff like that in mates. I married a crazy
woman.”
“Ummm.” Arianne stood. “I think I’m just gonna go hang out with Vonda.” She crossed the room to where the feisty septuagenarian was entertaining
people with tall tales about her father and uncles trying unsuccessfully to brew their own alcohol during Prohibition.
Gesturing toward the spot his sister had just vacated and looking somewhat abashed, David asked, “Mind if I sit there?”
A little, but it wasn’t as if she could make him sit on the floor without it appearing weird. Then again, he’d just called her crazy so maybe she was entitled.
“Suit yourself.” They still had a number of prenuptial festivities, a family Christmas and the wedding itself to get through—she could be mature about this.
Even if being so close to David exasperated her, aroused her and made her want to cry all at the same time. He’s right. I am a little crazy.
Amy and Steve arrived a few minutes later, and guests went back for second helpings. Thirds, in the case of a few of the guys. Once everyone was
stuffed, Amy declared that it was time for the Soon-to-be-Newlywed game and passed out little pads of paper and pencils so that everyone could write
down their answers.
Tanner leaned over to Lilah and loudly whispered, “No one told me there would be a quiz!”
She laughed. “You sound like my students.”
Amy explained that she was going to ask each couple the same questions and they would jot down a response, then compare at the end to see which
pair had the highest number of matches.
Arianne smirked at Quinn from her folding chair across the room. “How awesome would it be if we won?”
Lilah laughed again. “I’m pretty sure I’d be traumatized to learn that two of my bridesmaids are more compatible than my husband and I.”
“We playin’ for money?” Vonda wanted to know.
Amy shook her head. “Just gloating rights.”
“That works, too,” Vonda said gleefully.
The first question was, Where did you meet? Rachel thought back to the diner where she’d seen David, the memory so vivid she could smell chicken-fried
steak cooking. His smile had been bright enough she could practically sunbathe in it. The second question, What’s your song? was more difficult.
She frowned. “What if you don’t have one?”
“Make something up,” Arianne called back. “That’s what I’m doing.”
Lilah giggled. “You’re both lucky. I first fell for Tanner in the era of boy bands and mix tapes. What seemed soulful to me then now seems cheesy enough
to serve on crackers.”
“Hey!” Tanner glanced up from his pad of paper, looking offended.
Lilah kissed his cheek. “But I like cheese.”
Rachel continued staring at her own piece of paper. She and David hadn’t dated long enough to go through the courtship rites of stuff like mix tapes.
Everything for them had happened quickly. Except getting pregnant. She knew girlfriends in college defined a couple’s song by what had been playing on
the radio the first time they had sex, but there hadn’t been music on in the background when she and David made love. It had been at his old apartment,
on a rainy afternoon.
In a whisper so faint even she could barely hear it, David murmured, “‘Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head’?”
Rachel blushed. Somehow knowing that they were both reliving the same interlude was nearly as intimate as the act itself had been.
“Hey,” Steve objected from the other side of the room. “No signaling partners over there.”
Next they had to remember when they last kissed each other. Rachel warmed at the memory of this morning, pressed against the wall of Winnie’s hallway,
feeling her body come back to erotic life after numbingly frustrating months of hibernation.
“Can Ari and I be excused from this one?” Quinn asked wryly.
While everyone was chuckling, Rachel stood. “I, ah, just need to borrow your restroom, Sandra, but you guys go ahead and play without me. I’m happy to
let someone else win the gloating rights.”
David narrowed his eyes at her. “Quitter.” His tone was light, but she read a wealth of accusation into it.
Had she been wrong to leave? It had seemed so agonizingly clear at the time, but in the wake of this morning’s news and the flood of memories this
afternoon, Rachel was confused. She knew that she and David had loved each other, but she also knew that they had problems, not a misunderstanding
over whether one of them had flirted with someone else or an argument because one of them never put their socks in the hamper. Could they meet each
other’s emotional needs without hurting each other?
Still, it was seductive, the what if? that whispered in her ear as she watched Lilah open presents later that afternoon. Sandra had repeated the old wives’
tale that the number of ribbons the bride broke foretold the number of children the newlyweds would eventually have. At the mention of babies, Rachel
found herself unconsciously rubbing her abdomen. If David gave her time and space to figure out what she wanted, if he could truly hear her perspective
and understand it, could this be them in seven or eight months? Surrounded by friends, grinning at each other, eating off pink and blue plates with booties
printed on them instead of pale gold plates with interlocking rings?
She just didn’t know. If David really thought she was a crazy quitter who got overemotional and didn’t appreciate what a good thing he’d had…well, then,
no wonder he hadn’t fought to save their marriage.
Chapter Seven
Just going for a run, nothing more. Definitely not stalking. The rationalization had seemed more convincing in the foyer of his own house as David laced
up his running shoes Monday morning. After all, he went jogging at least three times a week. No ulterior motives there. Of course, he didn’t normally go in
an endless loop up and down Winnie’s street, hoping for a glimpse of his wife.
Was she still sleeping, like most of the neighborhood, or had the dogs already awakened her? Was she experiencing nausea? Rachel hated to throw up.
He supposed everyone did, but she’d fought it during the flu and one bout of food poisoning when he’d reminded her she’d feel better if she just got it over
with. He wished he could bring her a cold cloth or glass of water or something.
David hated feeling useless, helpless. The way he’d felt for nearly a year.
It had been so frustrating watching his wife slip away, becoming practically a stranger. Once upon a time, they’d tackled problems together. Since the
miscarriage, everything had changed. If he could have suffered it for her or shielded her from that loss…But there’d been nothing he could do. She’d
seemed so unreachable, and he’d felt angry and impotent. Eventually she’d suggested they try again, she’d started smiling on a daily basis and, although
most people assumed she was all right, she hadn’t been the same. After being so frustrated at being shut out, neither had he.
David had wondered if what they were doing—the medical appointments, the physical side effects of the treatment, the emotional and financial cost—
was worth it. He and Rachel had a lot of love to give and it seemed as if adoption would be so much easier. When he’d told her that, she’d distanced
herself even more. Her emotional rebuffs had infuriated him, reducing him to a glorified sperm donor. She couldn’t talk to him, couldn’t lean on him
anymore, but she could expect him to jump into her bed when the ovulation kits said it was time?
Pride. Was he really going to throw away a life with the woman he loved just because she’d hurt his feelings?
He’d handled this all wrong. When she’d told him their marriage was faltering, that she didn’t think she could do this anymore, he’d honestly thought some
distance might be good for both of them. Deep down, though, he’d never accepted it as the end. He’d believed—just thinking it made him feel petty, but
Rachel’s absence was forcing some hard truths—he’d believed she would see how much she needed him, that she’d blamed him for things that weren’t
his fault and would come home. He would forgive her, wait a respectable period of time, then try to persuade her to pursue the reasonable course of
adoption.
Her walking out had hurt his male ego, stunting his emotional response. Other than snapping at her once or twice, he’d barely had a response. How much
time did he have to repair his mistakes—nine months? Less.
There was a light on in Winnie’s house now, and he stared at it, hoping no one mistook him for a prowler. What if he didn’t have until the baby was born
but only a matter of weeks? Would Rachel follow through on her plan to leave after the wedding? What if she didn’t intend to have the baby in Mistletoe?
David’s heart raced, and it had nothing to do with his so-called run. Pure, unadulterated panic coursed through his veins. I have to get them back. She’d
fallen in love with a take-charge guy who’d taken one look at her and set about wooing her. He was still that man.
And he refused to lose his wife.
“WHOA.” May let out a low whistle as she glanced from the front door to Rachel, who was installing a new ink cartridge in one of their printers. “Since I
haven’t had a hot date in months, I’m guessing those are for you.”
“Guessing what are for me?” Rachel asked cautiously.
“Half of Natalie’s shop, by the looks of it.”
Former Mistletoe High cheerleader Natalie Young was the majority owner of the local flower shop and in charge of floral arrangements for Tanner and
Lilah’s wedding. Someone had sent flowers? Rachel left the printer and joined her co-worker at the counter. Whoa didn’t begin to cover it.
“Delivery for Rachel Waide.” The cheerful delivery boy was barely visible behind the profusion of pink roses, white tulips and smaller graceful yellow
flowers, all arranged with greenery in a crystal vase that probably weighed a ton.
May was practically vibrating with excitement. “That’s her! She’s Rachel.”
While Rachel stood frozen in shock, the other two settled the flowers atop the counter. May nudged her.
“I think you’re supposed to sign for them.”
David. A guy didn’t send his estranged wife flowers, did he?
Then again, maybe she was reading too much into this. Maybe he was simply excited over their news. She’d been so awestruck that, even though she’d
felt bone-tired, she hadn’t been able to sleep. She’d spent the night awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering how many months before she could feel the
baby move, daydreaming about nursery themes and a little girl with David’s blue eyes or a little boy with his smile.
Her doctor’s appointment was tomorrow afternoon; she’d e-mailed David with the time and suggested they meet there. This bouquet was probably a
platonic expression of joy. She plucked the card from the plastic holder in the center of the flowers. He’d written the note himself; she knew his handwriting
as well as she knew her own.
Congratulations! I’m sorry I couldn’t find flowers as beautiful as you are, but I hope this paltry offering will still demonstrate how happy I am.
(I’d be even happier if you came home.)
Love, Your Husband
“Do I get to read it?” May asked, unrepentantly nosy.
“It’s personal.” And inappropriate. It was impossible to let David off on the platonic-joy defense if he was going to sling around words like beautiful and
your husband.
“Okay, I get that it’s personal,” May conceded. “But we’re friends. You could tell me anything in confidence. You know that, right?”
“Like what?” Rachel was a little taken aback by the intense, meaningful glances her boss was giving her. Since no one knew about the separation, her
husband sending flowers wasn’t that notable. He’d done so once or twice on special occasions. “I’m not having a steamy affair with Paolo or anything.”
May’s eyebrows shot upward. “Who’s Paolo?”
“Nothing, nobody. Imaginary male stripper.” She needed to call Arianne back about the bachelorette party. “I just meant, the flowers are from David.”
“To celebrate a happy event, maybe? Or a happy future event you’re expecting?”
How does she know? Rachel’s bewilderment and her tacit admission must both be readable in her expression because May laughed.
“Oh, honey. When I walked in here last week with that fish sandwich, you turned positively green. And Mindy Nelson saw you in the women’s aisle at the
grocery store. She said you were acting nutty. We’ve both had our fingers crossed for you all weekend.”
Perhaps the conjecture had been unavoidable, but Rachel wished David hadn’t cemented the gossip with flowers. She was still in the statistically
dangerous first trimester. One of the worst parts of the miscarriage had been running into people who somehow hadn’t heard the news yet, having to
suffer through the painful well-meaning questions and the awkward strain once she told them.
“Don’t get too excited just yet,” Rachel warned.
But her words seemed to have the opposite effect on May, whose eyes brightened. “So you do at least think you’re pregnant?”
“I don’t know for sure. Even if I am, I’m not ready to tell people. You know the first trimester is…” She swallowed, unable to dwell any more on that horrific
possibility. Instead, she switched tactics. “David and I don’t want anything upstaging Lilah and Tanner’s wedding.”
“Oh. I think they’d be too happy for you to mind, but you guys are being really considerate.” May mimed locking her lips and throwing the invisible key over
her shoulder. “You can count on my discretion, sweetie. Mindy will just have to speculate alone. I won’t confirm a thing.”
Rachel would prefer no one was speculating anything about her at all, but that was asking too much in a town this size. “I appreciate your keeping the
secret.”
“Don’t mention it.” May grinned. “It’ll be fun knowing something no one else does. Well, besides you and David, of course. You want me to make myself
scarce so you can call him?”
“Actually.” Rachel’s fingers tightened involuntarily, and one sharp edge of the card scraped her skin. “Do you think you could spare me for a little while?”
“Absolutely! You take any time you need.”
“Great.” Rachel reached for the coat she’d hung on the brass rack by the counter. “I think maybe I should go thank him in person.”
AS SHE’D EXPECTED, Rachel found David seated at the desk in the private office behind Waide Supply. He glanced up with a smile that bordered on cocky,
sending her temper through the roof.
She didn’t yell, not with Arianne and Zachariah just on the other side of the wall, but her tone was pointed. “Have you lost your mind?”
“No. Why, have you found one?”
And now he was making jokes, not taking her seriously at all. “You sent me flowers. At work!”
“Well, it seemed like the best place since it’s where you are during the day.”
“David!” She leaned forward, bracing her hands on the desk. “This isn’t funny.”
His boyish smile would have melted a weaker woman. “Not even a little? Come on, most women get mad when their husbands don’t send flowers.”
“You’re not my husband anymore,” she said in desperation.
His humor-filled features hardened so quickly that it made him look like a different person. “The hell I’m not.”
“You know what I meant. We’re not married in the typical sense.”
“We could be,” he coaxed. “Don’t you miss me, Rach? I miss you.”
His tone was as dangerously addictive as really good chocolate. “Don’t.”
“Why not?” He rose from his chair, bracing his own hands on the desk and angling toward her. They were practically nose to nose.
Because she couldn’t recall him claiming to miss her before he’d heard she was pregnant. Tears pricked her eyes. Was this how she’d thoughtlessly
made him feel all those months they’d been trying, as if his primary value to her was as someone who could give her a baby?
He ran his thumb across the top of her cheek, the stroke sending shivers of sensation through her. “Don’t cry.”
“Don’t send me flowers.” She straightened. “You might as well have taken out a billboard on Main Street telling everyone I’m pregnant.”
“You’re overreacting. It was just a basic floral arrangement. It’s not like I sent one that came in a ceramic bassinet.”
“No, but May and Mindy Nelson have both figured it out.”
“Oh.” He grimaced. “I like both of them, but if they know, the news will have spread all the way to Atlanta by morning. We should go ahead and tell my fam
—”
“No! No, I’m not ready for that.” She remembered the pitying glances and unsolicited platitudes from before. If, God forbid, anything should go wrong with
this pregnancy, the fewer people who knew, the better.
“We shouldn’t tell anyone. Not yet. Can we just get through this wedding first? Then we’ll figure out the appropriate way to handle it.”
He blinked. “That’s uncannily like what I said to you when…”
When she’d told him she thought she should leave. He’d looked startled, then relieved, then almost coolly calculating as he’d explained why they shouldn’t
tell anyone yet. She hadn’t thought that far ahead, merely trying to survive the moment.
She squared her shoulders, redirecting the conversation. “I know they have reputations as friendly gossips, but I don’t think May or Mindy will say anything
yet. At least, not anything they can back up with fact. May promised to drop the subject. I’m sure something will happen in the next day or so that’s more
interesting than seeing me in the pregnancy-test aisle. Without anything further to fan the flames, Mindy will probably let it go.”
“You mean without incidents like me sending you ill-advised flowers?” His smile was rueful.
She softened. “They were beautiful.”
“So are you.”
“You can’t say things like that!”
“We’re alone. There’s no May or Mindy or—”
“Rachel, are you still back here?” A blond head poked inside the doorway.
David growled. “Arianne!”
His sister hesitated. “I saw Rachel come in, but was helping a customer. I just thought I’d see if she was still around and wanted to grab an early lunch with
me.”
“We’re kind of in the middle of something,” David said.
“Not really,” Rachel countered, seeing the perfect opportunity to escape. “I mean, we were, but we’ve finished our conversation. Ari, I’d love something to
eat—I’m starving.”
“Great. I’ll get my purse.”
Rachel made the mistake of glancing back toward David, who mouthed, Coward. But then his reproving expression was replaced with a mischievous
gleam that made her palms clammy and her mouth go dry.
“Hey, Ari, how about I join you?” he called. “Lunch with two of my favorite gals. I’ll treat. You don’t mind, do you?”
His sister grinned. “Like I’m gonna turn down free food? My mama didn’t raise any fools.”
David turned to Rachel and winked. “No, she sure didn’t.”
“YOU’RE BACK,” May drawled, glancing up from the inventory-order forms on the counter. She smiled. “That must have been one of the longest thank-yous
on record.”
“Sorry. I stopped for lunch on the return trip. I can stay late to make up the time.”
May waved a hand. “Not necessary. You see how swamped we are in here.” Last month, they’d been busy with clients who wanted personalized
Christmas cards and other holiday items, but most people who were going to purchase those had done so already.
“All right. I’ll just go check the store e-mail.” As Rachel sat at the computer, she could hardly concentrate enough to type in the password. Her thoughts
kept drifting back to David.
He’d been utterly charming at lunch, darn him. He’d made Arianne laugh, and Rachel had reluctantly done the same. She could hardly sit through the meal
glaring without letting her sister-in-law know there was a problem.
Their recent troubles had overshadowed the memories of their whirlwind courtship, how much she’d enjoyed merely being around him, how she’d smiled
all the time. Lately she’d felt isolated, first by the medical side effects but most excruciatingly by losing her baby, and had been too caught up in her own
suffering to notice how rare David’s smiles were growing. He put on a better public face than she did, but his family hadn’t been fooled. Arianne had
actually commented today while they waited for the check that it had been a while since she’d seen her big brother in such a good mood.
Guilt tugged at Rachel, knowing how confused Ari would be by the forthcoming news of their separation. Of course, before she could worry about how
David’s family took the news, she had to make sure David himself acknowledged their separation. The flowers and his presence at lunch today made it
clear that he wanted her to give it another try for their child’s sake. Too much responsibility for an unborn baby. When the problems between them
sharpened enough to cause discord further down the road, would one of them resent their kid for being the reason they were still together? She liked to
believe that neither she nor David would ever be that petty, but she was routinely shocked by the way parents going through divorces could inadvertently
hurt their children.
“Hey, I think I’m gonna go grab some lunch myself,” May said. When Rachel looked up and nodded in acknowledgment, the older woman winked. “But I
promise not to bring back any fish.”
A few minutes later, the door opened and Belle Fulton, the executive secretary on the chamber of commerce board, bustled inside with a smile. Belle
favored seriously bright shades of lipstick, so her grins were generally visible from a distance. “Happy holidays!”
Rachel grinned back. “Happy holidays to you. What can we do for you today?”
“Brochures. We’re trying to attract holiday shoppers to town, increase revenue for our members.”
“But—” Rachel bit her lip, realizing that her unsolicited comment was not entirely diplomatic.
Belle, however, cocked her head to the side, waiting. “Yes?”
“Nothing. I just…Are you intending to use these brochures this year? It seems like they could have done even more to attract tourist dollars if we’d printed
them sooner. Not that it’s any of my business,” she added hastily.
Belle sighed. “No, you’re right. It just takes us a while to come to any decisions and then act on them. Volunteers make up half the chamber’s board, so
this is on top of their normal jobs, plus we have a few very opinionated people. Then there was deciding how much it was worth to spend when we’re
trying to make money. The first photographer—I shouldn’t even be telling you this—did such a lousy job that we had Gina Oster go back and do them over.
Sweet of her, but she’s hardly a pro herself. We don’t have the budget for one.”
Later, as Rachel put together the files to print the brochures, she couldn’t help studying the pictures with a critical eye. The slogan wasn’t half-bad—
Nothing Says Christmas Like Mistletoe—but the pictures were far too commercial. Potential tourists and holiday shoppers didn’t need to see images of
the First Bank on Main Street, even if the bank had donated money for the project. No, what the brochure needed were homey photos of Kerrigan Farms
and their rows of evergreen trees for sale. The mistletoe hanging in the white gazebo in the town square. Those were the scenes that would draw people;
then once they were here, spending money would be a natural progression.
Rachel thought back to last week, when she’d half hoped for a computer error just so she had something to distract her from her personal life. No one at
the chamber had asked for her input. Was she merely butting in out of self-preservation?
Maybe, she admitted, as she began typing some notes for Belle and the other directors. But needing the distraction didn’t preclude also having some
darn good ideas. Busy brainstorming, she barely noticed how much time had passed until May walked back in the door. With a start, Rachel sat back in
her chair. When was the last time she’d been so engrossed in something, so confident in her abilities to help a client?
Okay, not a client, exactly. She glanced at some of what she’d written, considered the pictures she could take to bring the ideas to life. At least, not yet.
Chapter Eight
“All right.” Rachel felt surprisingly unself-conscious about talking to her belly through the thin cotton of her pink T-shirt. “You’ve made your point.”
Today, she and David were supposed to meet at the OB’s office and find out for sure if she was pregnant. But the baby had chosen now to make its
presence known beyond a shadow of a doubt. While Rachel had experienced increasing twinges of nausea in the past few weeks, this was the first time
she’d truly succumbed to full-on morning sickness. The back door to the house was still open—she’d been letting the dogs out in the yard when she’d had
to make a sudden run for it.
Hadn’t she read somewhere that an expectant mother tossing her cookies was a sign of a healthy, growing baby?
She got to her feet slowly in case the room had any plans of spinning again, then she went into the kitchen, planning to call the dogs inside and consider
breakfast options. The pregnancy books she’d bought the first time were buried in a closet back at her and David’s house, but she remembered reading
that, while it seemed counterintuitive, food would help ease the nausea. As she reached the back door, she heard the barking. She peeked her head out
and saw the dogs with their noses pressed to the wooden planks of the fence. On the sidewalk beyond, David’s posture was sheepish. The hounds
raised enough of a ruckus to wake the entire neighborhood.
When he saw her, he called, “I was just out jogging.”
“Of course.” She whistled, causing the dogs to glance her way. None of them actually came toward her, however. The two older ones were at least quiet
now, but Hildie kept yipping her excitement. Rachel took another step outside, wincing at the cold of the ground through her fuzzy socks. “I don’t think
they’re going to leave their post until you pass by.”
David didn’t seem in any hurry. “Well, I guess I’ll see you at Dr. McDermott’s office…unless you want to ride together?”
It was a seemingly innocuous suggestion, yet she was left with the distinct impression he hadn’t heard anything she’d tried to tell him in his office
yesterday. “David—”
“You know, with gas prices being what they are,” he added, “and carpooling being the more environmentally friendly option.”
Exasperating man. “Sic him, Hildie.”
“Honestly, Rach, what are you worried about? The few minutes alone in the car can’t possibly be as intimate as the visit itself. I mean, we’re going to find
out for sure whether or not we’ve created a new life, hopefully get to see the first sonogr—”
“Shh! It’s bad enough that the dogs probably woke up everyone in the subdivision. We shouldn’t be out here discussing private matters.”
“You’re absolutely right,” he said smoothly. “I’ll come inside.”
He went from leaning against the fence to sprinting before she had time to protest. She’d say this for him—he could move.
But paying him compliments was the furthest thing from her mind when she opened the front door. “I don’t want to ride with you.”
Peering at her beneath the foyer chandelier, he frowned. “Up close, you don’t look…I mean…Rough morning?”
“I guess there’s really no debonair way to tell a girl she’s green and disheveled.”
“You’re sick to your stomach, aren’t you? I’m an ass. You shouldn’t have been standing out in the cold talking to me—you should be off your feet. Why
don’t you go relax, and I’ll make some coffee? No, caffeine’s bad for the baby. I’ll pour juice and—”
“You’ll go away,” Rachel said firmly. “I appreciate the sentiment, sort of, but I don’t need help.”
“Why are you being so stubborn?”
“Why are you? David, I don’t want you to take care of me.”
He surprised her by putting a hand across her abdomen. “It’s my baby, too, Rach. Let me be part of this. Don’t shut me out again.”
She flinched at his soft words. “I would never try to push you away where the baby’s involved.”
“There was a time I wouldn’t have believed you would push me away, period.” He let his hand drop away.
He blames me. Worse, on some level, so did she. “It’s not—it’s not like I set out to create distance between us. But there were times when it was hard to
be around you.” Like the day the doctor had called with the results from the routine test confirming that David was not the infertile one.
Of course he wasn’t. Robustly healthy, he didn’t even have the decency to come down with the occasional flu so that she could commiserate with other
wives about what a lousy patient he was. Hell, if he ever did get sick, he’d probably be perfectly gracious about it. A tangle of long-suppressed emotion
bubbled to the surface—resentment for her do-no-wrong husband and self-loathing that she hadn’t been able to love him more unconditionally, that she’d
ever allowed resentment to take root.
“You know, it wasn’t exactly me pushing you, it was more pulling away. Retreating like a turtle. For my own defense.”
“Defense? I never would have hurt you!”
Not on purpose, but it was amazing the accidents that could take place in close quarters. “You don’t think it hurt when you pushed me to put my
miscarriage behind us like it never even happened?” She cupped her hands over her belly, as if the protective gesture could somehow keep such a thing
from happening again.
“I was encouraging you to look forward, to consider other possibilities. You were in such a dark place,” he reminded her, frustration thick in his voice.
“I was.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “And I felt very alone there.”
“I was trying my damnedest, Rach. What the hell more did you want from me?”
She struggled to find the right words, her own emotions and his growing impatience making an already difficult task nearly impossible. “Maybe what I
needed was less from you.”
He shoved a hand through his hair. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Well, you know me. Overwrought, crazy Rachel.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”
“Finally.” She choked on a sob, wanting him gone so she could fall apart without losing the remains of her dignity. “Something we agree on.”
“I DON’T GET men,” Arianne said, leaning against the doorjamb.
“Then we’re even.” David kept his gaze on the spreadsheet in front of him. He needed to go in a few minutes, and he hated leaving things unfinished.
“Because I don’t get women.” His curt tone would have warned away most would-be conversationalists.
His little sister, however, was impervious.
She sauntered inside the office and dropped into a chair. “Seriously, I’m baffled. Yesterday you were in a great mood. Today you’re biting off heads left
and right.”
“You should go while yours is still attached,” he said mildly.
“What’s going on, Dave?” In contrast to her earlier tone, she no longer sounded like an adolescent sibling needling him. She sounded like a bona fide
grown-up who was concerned—and more astute than people might think.
He met her gaze, wanting to tell her everything was fine but unable to lie to her outright. “Nothing that we need to discuss right now. Shouldn’t you be
working?”
She waved a hand. “I doubt the owner will fire me over a few minutes back here. That’s the beauty of nepotism.”
David snorted. “Dad has never shown his kids favoritism. If anything, he’s tougher on us than he’s been on some of the part-time help over the years. You
work darn hard.”
“I know.” She dimpled at him. “But I like hearing you say it. Now, are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or do I have to pull Mom aside and tell her I’m
dreadfully worried about you?”
“Brat.” They both knew that Susan could be obstinately determined when it came to prying information from one of her kids. She’d already expressed
some concern for him, and if Arianne added that he was acting strangely, his mother might not be content to leave well enough alone. He made a show of
checking his watch. “If you’re done with your attempted extortion, I’m supposed to meet Rachel somewhere.”
“‘Somewhere’?” Arianne echoed.
“It involves your Christmas present. I can’t say more. It would ruin the surprise.”
“You’re so full of it. But at least Rach never has to worry about her husband keeping something from her. You’re a lousy liar.”
“I wouldn’t lie to Rachel.”
“I was joking. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, sure.” It was just that he didn’t find much about his marriage funny these days. He stood. “If I don’t get out of here, I risk being late.”
“Yeah, that gridlocked downtown Mistletoe traffic can be a real delay.” She sighed. “Fine, don’t tell me what’s wrong. Go wherever it is that you’re also not
telling me. I’m only a blood relation, no one important.”
He made it all the way to the door before he turned back to press a kiss on top of Arianne’s head.
She blinked up at him. “What the heck was that?”
“I love you. You’re a pain in the ass, but it’s sweet that you worry about me.”
“Oh God. You’re not dying or something, are you?”
His laugh was rusty. “Of course not.”
“All right.” She raised up on her tiptoes to hug him. “Dave? Whatever is wrong, you should talk to somebody about it. If not me or Mom, then maybe
Tanner. Or better yet, your wife.”
He’d tried to talk to his wife—and the disastrous results were why he’d been snapping at people all day.
THE PALE BLUE chairs in the OB’s waiting room were locked together bench-style, in rows of three, but Rachel and David managed to sit so rigidly that
there was no chance of their bodies brushing. The silence reverberating in Rachel’s skull was giving her a hell of a headache. Yet despite all of that, she
was perversely relieved by David’s presence.
She no longer harbored a molecule of doubt that she was pregnant, still, until she actually heard Dr. McDermott say everything was progressing just right,
Rachel would remain a nervous wreck. Thank God she didn’t have to await the doctor’s diagnosis alone. So much for standing on your own two feet.
While she’d strongly wanted to throw something at her husband that morning, he’d been absolutely right on one point. It’s my baby, too, Rach. Let me be
part of this. The memory was a raw wound, substantiating what she’d known but apparently hadn’t accepted: the reason she was suddenly getting the fullcourt
press was because he didn’t want to lose his place in their child’s life.
Could she blame him, though? After all, he was the father.
“Rachel Waide?”
Her heart thumped against her chest. “That’s me.” And always would be. While she’d had her maiden name for far more years than her married surname,
she didn’t think she’d ever truly be comfortable as Rachel Nietermyer again. She certainly didn’t want a different last name than her own child.
David had risen and was reaching automatically for her hand to help her out of the chair. She didn’t pull away on purpose, it was a skittish reflex, like
flinching from something coming at you in your peripheral vision. David narrowed his eyes and swiftly looked away. She wished she could take back the
moment. A strangled laugh caught in her throat—if she had the power to go back in time and change even small reactions, maybe they never would have
reached this point.
They followed the nurse, who handed Rachel a clear specimen cup with her name written on it. After that was taken care of, the same nurse indicated the
scale. Oh, joy, just what everyone wanted—to be weighed in front of an audience. She defiantly kicked off her shoes and stepped onto the platform.
Ironically, her weight was lower than she’d anticipated. Her blood pressure, however, was much higher than normal. The nurse made a concerned tutting
noise as she wrote the numbers on the chart.
“I’m, uh, a little more tense today than usual,” Rachel told the woman.
“Understandable. But it’s best for you and the baby if you relax.”
There were a few other minor tests to complete and medical questions to answer, although the vast majority of Rachel’s history was already welldocumented
in her patient file. Finally, she and David were shown into a larger-than-normal exam room where an ultrasound machine sat next to the table.
“Dr. McDermott will be with you in just a few minutes. She’ll most likely want to do a vaginal ultrasound.”
This would be to confirm fetal age and assess viability, Rachel knew, making sure the fetus was implanted right where it should be. Her nerves started to
tie themselves into knots that would impress even the most seasoned sailors.
The nurse gave them a reassuring smile. “If we’re right about your being nine weeks pregnant, you’ll even be able to see the heartbeat today.”
Next to her, David swallowed. What was he thinking? His gorgeous face was alarmingly unreadable.
This time last year, although they were obviously having problems, Rachel would never have guessed there would come a day when he felt like a stranger
to her. She had no clue whether he was remembering previous doctor’s visits, if he rued the unorthodox timing of this pregnancy, if he hoped for a son or
daughter…Suddenly he turned, his gaze arresting hers. Whatever he was thinking, the emotion behind it was potent.
“I’ll just leave the two of you alone,” the nurse said. “Mrs. Waide, you’ll need to get completely undressed and put on the gown.”
Gown? Fancy term for a large piece of paper with two holes on the sides and a strip meant to tie in the back. When the nurse shut the door behind her,
Rachel gulped.
David wasn’t meeting her gaze now. “I guess I should go wait in the hall.”
Considering that she was standing there pregnant with his child, that seemed a lot like closing the barn door after the horse already got loose. “You could
turn around. Promise not to look?”
“You’d trust me?” He turned toward the wall and a pink poster about new Pap smear methods.
“Trust was never the issue between us,” she said. Whatever else his faults—or annoying lack thereof—it wasn’t as if she’d worried David would betray
her.
“I don’t know,” he said after a moment. “There’s more than one kind of trust. What you said today about needing to protect yourself from getting hurt…”
There was a raw pain in his voice she hadn’t expected, and she paused in the act of unfastening her bra. He was keeping his word, not watching her,
which presented an unusual opportunity to look her fill. He wasn’t basketball-player tall, but he was a nice height for her, strong and solid. His posture had
always been correct; no one needed to remind him to stand up straight. Even so, there was a slight rounding to his broad shoulders, the tiniest sign of
dejection. Or defeat.
“David, I wasn’t trying to hurt you with what I said this morning.” She folded her bra inside her discarded shirt, then reached for the waistband of her pants.
This was a surreal conversation to be having while she stripped.
His laugh held no traces of humor. “See? We really don’t trust each other. You weren’t trying to hurt me, I wasn’t trying to hurt you. So why, instead of giving
the other person the benefit of the doubt, do we jump to the worst conclusions?”
Because love made people vulnerable.
She couldn’t voice the thought without admitting that she still loved him, not in the bright, think-about-you-all-the-time way she had when she’d first met him.
This was more bittersweet and weather-beaten. They’d shared so much, both good and bad. They’d grown apart like vines reaching for separate suns
instead of becoming stronger together, but the memories they’d created would never fade completely. Especially since we created something a lot more
tangible than a memory. She splayed her fingers over her navel.
“You almost done?” he asked, shifting his weight restlessly.
She grabbed for the paper wrapper. “Just about.”
“I can’t believe I’m alone in a room with you, you’re finally naked, and I’m stuck reading about innovations in cervical health.”
An errant giggle escaped her. “Sorry.”
“Really?” His shoulders straightened. “Because there are ways you could make it up to me.”
“Not that sorry.”
“Yeah, that’s what I figured.”
There were two quick knocks on the door outside before Lydia McDermott stuck her head inside. “Everyone decent?”
“We’re ready.” Rachel scooted onto the table as the beaming doctor entered the room.
“So it looks like congrats are in order! The two of you must be thrilled,” Dr. McDermott said.
Rachel cleared her throat. “We’re…a lot of things. Surprised, for one. After all those months of trying, and then after we’d pretty much concluded we were
giving up, bam.”
The doctor nodded. “You’d be surprised how it happens that way for many people. Couples who find out they’re pregnant halfway through adoption
proceedings, or couples who have just adopted a baby and then find out another one is coming. The mind and body connection is a funny thing. It’s as if
for some couples, once they accept that it’s not going to happen—as you said—bam, it does.”
“The universe has a sick sense of humor. Not that I’m complaining,” Rachel added hastily, not wanting to test fate. David came to stand beside her.
Dr. McDermott was a tall, aristocratic-looking woman who delivered dozens of babies each year. Though her sleek bob had gone almost entirely gray,
her blue eyes twinkled and her attractive face was mostly unlined. She looked wise and capable.
Rachel knew with sudden certainty she didn’t want anyone but Lydia delivering this baby. I’m staying in Mistletoe. Which meant she had to decide on
some long-term plans, the sooner, the better. She couldn’t stay at Winnie’s until the baby came this summer.
The doctor wore reading glasses on a slim chain around her neck and lifted them to better study the nurse’s notes. “How are you feeling? Any major side
effects you want to discuss or ask about?”
“Well, the morning sickness has kicked in. That was fun,” Rachel said wryly. “And I was cramping a few days ago. Before the home pregnancy test. At the
time, I figured it was just my stalled period about to start.”
“We’ll check everything out, of course, but lots of women experience abdominal discomfort from ligaments stretching. Things are moving around and
changing, so there will be some minor pains. Don’t let them panic you. Any headaches, dizziness or breast tenderness?”
“Yes, on all three counts.” Thinking about how sensitive her breasts had become—it practically hurt to roll over in her sleep—Rachel felt herself blush.
They’d always been sensitive, which, in happier times, David had used to orgasmic effect.
“All right.” Dr. McDermott walked to the counter and set down the manila folder. “Why don’t you lie back, and we’ll take a look.”
Rachel’s heart fluttered rapidly. As she reclined, she reached out without thinking. David reacted immediately, clasping her hand and giving it a brief
reassuring squeeze. She couldn’t look at him—it would make the moment too unbearably intimate—but she was grateful for the contact.
If she stopped to think about what was going on, the ultrasound would have been a bit embarrassing, but she was far too mesmerized by the colors and
blobs on the small screen Dr. McDermott turned toward her.
“There. See that? There’s your little one, right where he should be.” A tiny shape, curved but indistinct, a dark winking at the center.
Tears blurred Rachel’s vision. That was her baby, that was the heartbeat.
David sounded choked up as well when he asked, “It was just a figure of speech, right? The ‘he’? I mean you can’t tell…”
Dr. McDermott chuckled. “No, it’ll be a long time before I can advise you whether to buy pink paint or blue, but the months will go fast. You’re already well
on your way to the second trimester! As anxious as the two of you have been, I’m surprised you didn’t take the home test sooner.”
How to explain that she’d been so preoccupied with her marriage falling apart that the first missed period had gone unnoticed? “Well, I was afraid to get
my hopes up too soon.”
Lydia nodded, pressing some buttons on her machine. “Give it a few minutes, and you’ll have your first baby picture for the scrapbook. Everything looks
great.”
Once the exam was over, they talked some more about what to expect and when Rachel should come back in for the next visit.
“That’s everything for now,” the doctor concluded. “I’ll step out and let you get dressed, give you a chance to think of any more questions. And a moment to
celebrate your good news privately.” She smiled at both of them, then left.
Neither of them moved. David looked as poleaxed as Rachel felt.
He glanced at the grainy photo Dr. McDermott had handed him. “We did that.”
She grinned over his shoulder. “Yeah.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.” The enormity of the situation settled over her; she and David had created life. There was a new little person growing inside her. Even though she’d
known it on an abstract level, seeing the visual proof was profound.
“You all right?” he asked.
“I’ll be better once we hit the second trimester mark,” she admitted.
“‘We’? Meaning you and the baby?”
“All of us.” She stopped, started again. “I’m still going to see my family in a few weeks, but just temporarily. Whatever else happens, I won’t leave Mistletoe
until the baby’s born.”
He closed his eyes for a moment. “And after?”
“I…I’m still working on that.”
Not an answer he liked, but all she could give him was the truth. Whatever he might be thinking, he didn’t argue. Instead, he selected another wall to face
—this time with a view of a smaller brochure printed on bright pink paper. Rachel slid her feet down over the side of the exam table. In the quiet of the
room, the sounds of paper rasping against her skin and the slide of fabric seemed exaggerated. Within minutes, she was completely dressed and
slipping on her shoes.
“All done,” she said.
“Rach?” He turned his head, his blue-green eyes burning like turquoise flame. “If I had asked you not to go, if I had asked you to see a marriage therapist
with me first, to try working this all out…would you have agreed to give us another shot?”
Her chest constricted so tightly she couldn’t breathe. “I think I would have,” she said after a long moment’s thought. “If you’d asked before you knew about
the baby, I would have.”
Chapter Nine
After the doctor’s appointment, David’s mind was too cluttered for him to go back to work. If he tried crunching numbers in this mental state, the store
would probably never recover from all the data errors. I could single-handedly destroy generations’ worth of work in an afternoon. Something
approximating a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The despairing thought was the kind of exaggerated, self-deprecating statement he used to fuss
at Rachel for making.
Lord, he missed her. If she didn’t move back into the house, he’d eventually put it up for sale. Without her there, it just felt…wrong. He was grateful beyond
words that she wasn’t going anywhere at least until summer, but the possibility of losing her after that, of losing his child, was too painful to entertain.
Once home, he wandered through the rooms like a ghost, seeing the things they’d picked out together, trying to recall which pieces had been wedding
presents. In their room, he opened the dresser drawer where she stored her summer clothes, skimming his hand over the fabrics, thinking about how
pretty she’d always looked in the pale green tank top. With ninety percent of her belongings still here, it seemed as if she was just out at the store and
would be home any minute, where she belonged.
At the knock on the door, he started. Was it Rach? Maybe there was something she needed to make her more comfortable over at Winnie’s…. He
dashed through the house at twice the speed he’d moved earlier.
Tanner waved at him through the beveled glass in the front door.
David sighed. “Hey. Come on in.”
“I called you at the store, but Arianne said you went home early today.”
“Had some errands to run,” David said vaguely. “Want something to drink?”
“Sure. I’ll take a cold beer if you’ve got one.”
David retrieved two bottles from the refrigerator. “So, did Ari send you over here?”
Tanner looked surprised by the question. “She told me you were probably here, but I’m not here at her bidding or anything. I swung by on my way home
from a client’s to beg a favor.”
“Beg away.” Maybe David should try the same approach. Should he grovel to Rachel? His pride balked at the idea, but that didn’t matter nearly as much
as the prospect of growing old without her. Even now, with the two of them under different roofs, he couldn’t truly imagine life without her.
“Lilah wants to take a day trip this weekend, go somewhere more exotic than Mistletoe for all her Christmas shopping.” Tanner pulled a face, making it
clear marathon shopping wasn’t his idea of a good time. “Misery loves company, right?”
David sipped his beer. “You want me to come shopping with the two of you?”
“Well, you and Rachel. We thought the four of us could head toward Atlanta, eat dinner someplace together before coming back. All of our single friends
are getting a little sick of the constant wedding chatter. I’ll be the first to admit, we’re nauseating. We thought it would be fun to spend time with another
couple who won’t hold it against us. What do you say, got plans for the weekend?”
David brightened. An entire day in Rachel’s company? “Sounds great.”
“You heard the part about the all-day shopping, right? No doubt there will be sales and shoes involved.”
“There are worse things in the world, little brother.” David took a deep breath, then pushed away the negative emotions. Winners used positive thinking,
no matter what odds they faced. “I just have to check with Rachel. Call you tomorrow?”
“Sure. You’re not kicking me out already, are you? I haven’t finished the beer.”
“No, you can stick around. If you want, I could order us a pizza.”
“Sorry, dude. I have a preexisting offer from someone a lot prettier. Then again…” Tanner studied him. “If you need me to stay, I can call Lilah and cancel.”
“No, of course not. I was just making the offer to be polite.”
Tanner leaned against the counter. “Why did you think Arianne sent me over here? Did you two fight or something?”
“Or something.”
“I’m a little surprised you’re not doing the pizza thing with Rachel.” He glanced around as if he, too, could feel her absence despite all appearances being
normal. “I know she’s sleeping at Winnie’s because someone has to stay with the dogs, but she gets dinner breaks, right?”
“Of course. In fact, I’ll call her as soon as you leave. I just thought maybe a night of male bonding before you take your vows…”
Tanner laughed. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time for that even after. There’s a limit to what my getting married is going to change.”
That’s what you think.
David could look back and see lots of big and small ways that Rachel had changed over the years and ways that their relationship had altered—would
that he’d been paying more attention at the time. Hindsight was painfully clear. What was harder to see, even now, was how he’d changed. Rachel had
loved him so much once. Had he not been what she expected somehow? He wasn’t objective enough to evaluate himself as a husband.
Granted, he probably could have handled Rachel’s losing the baby better, but he’d been mourning, too. As much as she’d wanted that child, he doubted
he could have said or done anything to make it better. Knowing that had doubled his own grief. He knew that the specter of what had happened before
loomed over her now, and he hated like hell that she was alone in the house with three dogs, worrying, when he was two streets over and unable to help.
Three dogs. Rembrandt and Bristol weren’t small. All three of them were excitable—what if one of them forgot his manners and jumped up on Rachel?
“If you’re about finished,” David said, “I think I am going to kick you out.”
“Nothing like brotherly love. All right, I’ll get out of your hair. Let me know what Rachel says about holiday shopping this weekend? Just think, Christmas is
right around the corner, and then the wedding.” Tanner’s expression was luminous enough to power the entire town.
David assessed the younger man, the rebel who’d once seemed as though he might never mature past his angry restlessness. “Look at you, all grown up
and about to marry a wonderful woman. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks.” Tanner’s gaze landed on an old souvenir photo-magnet of Rachel and David on the refrigerator. “You didn’t do so badly for yourself, either.”
They each finished their beer, then Tanner set his bottle on the counter. “I’m leaving before this deteriorates into something truly scary, like hugging.”
David shuddered. “That would be bad.”
After Tanner left, David rifled through the junk drawer in the kitchen, looking for the delivery number for that pizzeria Rachel liked.
The girl who answered confirmed his name and asked, “Is this 820 Pine?”
“Yes, but I’d actually like to get this delivered to another address….”
“I HAVE A proposition,” he blurted as soon as she opened the door.
Rachel looked heavenward. “This can’t be good.”
“You’re such a glass-half-empty person.”
“It’s called being a realist.” Her voice was dry but amusement danced in her eyes. “It helps offset people like you who occasionally suffer delusions of
grandeur.”
“Well, see there, we balance each other out,” he said as he came inside.
He was glad to see that her cheeks had some nice color to them. She looked girlishly comfortable in a pair of pink drawstring pants and a T-shirt, far
healthier than she had when he’d seen her right after her bout of morning sickness. He’d had so much to think about today that their daybreak encounter
seemed like eons ago. Let’s try this again. This time, without his good intentions devolving into an argument.
Rachel was waiting expectantly, her arms folded across her chest. Watching her, he couldn’t help recalling the doctor’s question about whether her
breasts were sensitive…and Rachel’s near-blush when she’d answered. And how long it had been since he’d really touched her. Their spontaneous kiss
on Saturday had only whetted his appetite for more.
He should probably stop thinking about that. He should also stop staring at the round, full swell of her breasts beneath the lightweight cotton.
“David? You had something you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Move back home.”
“What? But—”
“Not with me,” he clarified. “I’ll stay here.”
She walked into the living room, and he followed. He would have liked to sit with her on the couch, but that would put him in maddening proximity to those
wonderful curves. He chose a striped wing chair instead.
“It’s quiet,” he noted.
“The dogs are out back.” She tucked her feet up under her. “Either they didn’t hear you approach, or they’ve just gotten used to you.”
“I think they like me,” he said. “Which works out nicely since I’m proposing you let me take care of them.”
She shook her head, her smile rueful. “You’re just not happy without others to look after, are you? It seems irresponsible to dump them on you. I made a
promise to Winnie.”
“That her animals would be in good hands, and they will be. You’d be more comfortable at home, wouldn’t you? Sleeping in your own bed.” He lightened
his tone. “Or at least hurling in the privacy of your own bathroom.”
“Ew.”
“No offense to Winnie, but her mutts aren’t the most disciplined in the world. Just look at last week when you tried to walk them and Hildie got away.” As
soon as he said it, he knew he’d made a tactical misstep. Rachel was scowling. “Of course, that could have happened to anyone.”
“Probably not to you,” she grumbled.
“Never mind. What happened the other morning wasn’t really my point, I was just grasping for an example. What about the cat? Isn’t there something
about pregnant women not being around litter boxes? And what if one of those dogs jumped up on you? Rach.” He glanced at her belly, trying to imagine
what it would look like as it expanded with their child, wishing he could kiss her right above her belly button. “According to Dr. McDermott, everything looks
great with the pregnancy. Why take any unnecessary chances, even small ones?”
Rachel hesitated, obviously pondering the points he’d made. Then she laughed. “Does it ever get exhausting, being right all the time? Still…I feel weird
about swapping places without Winnie’s permission.”
“I’ll be a model pet-care provider,” he swore.
“There are five of them, counting the rabbit. The instructions were pretty lengthy.”
He smiled, sensing victory. “We can talk about it over pizza. Which should be here in about five more minutes.”
“David!” She laughed as she said it, a good sign.
“I’ve missed your laugh,” he told her, knowing he was probably pushing his luck but unable to stop himself. “I’ve missed seeing you happy.”
“I’ve missed being happy.”
He sat forward. “And you think you will be without me?”
“I don’t know. I know I wasn’t happy with who I became with you. That’s not blame,” she added quickly. “Not anymore. I was going through a lot and
somehow ended up feeling like a second-class citizen. And logical or not, the resentment I was stifling turned me into someone petulant. Someone I don’t
recognize and don’t want to become.”
“I want to apologize,” he said slowly, determined not to repeat this morning when they’d each said whatever popped into their minds and left each other
with fresh scars. “But it feels disingenuous when I’m confused about what I’m supposed to be sorry for. A second-class citizen? That’s…”
“What, ridiculous?”
Yes. “Everyone in Mistletoe knows how much I love you,” he insisted. “I went out of my way to do things for you.”
She ran a hand through her hair. “I know. And yet you just proved my point. I tried to share something difficult and personal, something I’m not proud of,
and your response, no matter how polite, was to tell me why I was wrong.”
“That’s not what I was doing! You—” He broke off, catching himself that time. “Hmm.”
She laughed, taking pity on him. “If you’re serious about taking care of the animals, follow me. I’ll show you where the rabbit is, and we’ll see if we can
convince Arpeggio to come out from under whatever bed she’s chosen this time. Winnie said that the cat is still sulking about the puppy and has been
fairly antisocial lately.”
With the dogs outside, they were able to coax Arpeggio out from under the guest room bed. The tri-color cat hobbled out, its gaze curious but its ears
twitching back with suspicion as it approached David. He waited patiently, stretching his hand out and sitting perfectly still until the cat rubbed up against
his fingers. Then he began scratching her back in earnest, and the calico started purring.
“See?” David said softly. “I’m not so bad.”
Rachel sat on the carpet next to him. “I can’t believe I don’t know the answer to this, but did you have pets growing up?”
“A few hamsters with short life spans,” he said. “Arianne had one of those beta fish. Dad’s allergic to cats and Mom’s allergic to dogs. They had a poodle
when they were first married, but I don’t really remember her. What about you?”
“My mom was dead set against pets and I never really thought much about it. But Hildie’s been growing on me, despite my occasionally wanting to throttle
her. Maybe I’ll get a dog,” Rachel mused.
Maybe I’ll get a dog. Ouch. It should have been something they’d done together. Why had he never considered during those long, frustrated months when
she had so much love to give but no baby to lavish it upon, that she might appreciate a fuzzy friend who cuddled by her side when she was blue? Instead
of just telling her to cheer up or have hope, he could have surprised her with a pet rescued from the local animal shelter. He’d asked himself—and her—
what more he could have done, but maybe that was a cop-out. In retrospect, there was probably more he could have tried. Had he truly worked at staying
emotionally connected with his wife or had he assumed, because of their vows, that she’d always be there?
Till death do us part. A lofty goal, but had he really worked toward it the way he did other aspirations? He’d once coached four-year-olds in the community
soccer program, and they were hysterical to watch. They understood the basics, that the ball was supposed to go into the goal, but some of them seemed
to think those events would just unfold, as they milled around on the field, not really making the connection between what they wanted to achieve and their
own part in making it happen.
Maybe Tanner would be a better husband than David had been. He’d lost Lilah once. Having to win her back helped ensure that he appreciated her worth,
knew how miserable he’d been without her.
David’s experience might be coming later in life, but he liked to think he was a quick study. “Hey, I talked to Tanner earlier. He wanted to ask us a favor.”
“Does he need something for the wedding?”
“Actually, no, he wanted to recruit us for some Christmas shopping.”
“You mean he’s looking for help finding Lilah a present?”
“He wanted to know if we’d go with them out of town this weekend for a holiday shopping spree.”
The doorbell gonged, startling them both.
“That’ll be the pizza.” David stood, reaching for the wallet in his jeans pocket. “Is it okay that I took care of dinner plans?”
“In theory, it was high-handed.” She smiled up at him. “In practice, I am a pregnant woman who didn’t entirely realize how hungry she was or how tired she
was getting until about ten minutes ago. And here you are, summoning food as if by magic. So you’re forgiven. This once.”
He grinned over his shoulder as he walked down the stairs. “It’s a start.”
Chapter Ten
Rachel drove to the print shop the next morning feeling surprisingly rejuvenated. She’d dropped off to sleep as soon as David had left, and their dinner
together had been…enjoyable. Almost relaxed, as if, with the strain of holding their marriage together lifted, they could just be themselves. In some ways,
having the worst happen could be liberating. They’d agreed that he should take over the pet-sitting, but she’d been too tired to switch places with him last
night.
Tonight she’d go home. She still had mixed feelings about that, but she’d cope. She was already dealing with separating from David, the—happy—shock
of being pregnant and compiling a mental list of the decisions she’d need to start making for herself and the baby. None of it was easy, but it wasn’t
impossible, either.
“Morning, May,” she called when she walked into work.
Her boss waved her own hello over a mug of coffee. “Miss Popularity! You’ve already had two phone calls this morning.”
“You’re kidding. Who from?”
“Both from Gina Oster, at the chamber of commerce. Belle showed her some of the recommendations you made for future Christmas brochures, and they
want to talk to you about some projects for the spring.” May grinned. “You’re not thinking of leaving me for greener pastures, are you?”
“Don’t worry. I doubt a chamber the size of ours can afford much green,” Rachel said realistically. “But I can talk to them about some cheap independent
contracting on the side.” She found herself really eager to return Gina’s call. While Rachel didn’t see the chamber as being a career move for her, it was
exciting to think about ways she could use her talents to give back to the town. Mistletoe had given her so much.
“Well, Gina’s in meetings until this afternoon. That’s why she was trying to reach you so early, but if you can help them get organized, I think it’s a wonderful
idea. You’ve been such an asset to me.”
Rachel was touched by the warm sincerity in the woman’s voice. “Thank you.”
She’d spent so much time lately feeling under-utilized in her current career that she’d lost sight of how lucky she was. She worked for a nice person she
genuinely liked, she didn’t have to wear panty hose and she wasn’t bogged down in meetings and corporate bureaucracy. And on particularly busy days,
she helped balance a workload no person could manage alone.
It shaped up to be one of those days. They printed a last-minute batch of flyers for the Winter Wonderland dance that would go up all over town, farmed out
a rush order for some customized baseball caps, then printed and bound a series of booklets for an upcoming business retreat. She thought about the
hiking vacation she’d taken here, the lodge that was just outside town and more rustic than the popular Mistletoe Inn. The chamber of commerce should
do more to play up their appeal as a place to “come get away from it all…without having to go too far” for businessmen and even vacationing tourists.
Mistletoe, a great place to bring the family. A great place to raise a family.
“Well, you’re in a good mood.”
She jumped about a foot, then turned to see David. Nonemployees weren’t allowed behind the counter where all the equipment was kept, but May would
have made an exception to wave him back. “I thought I was alone. Just me and the forty booklets I promised to assemble by lunch.”
David shoved his hands in his pockets. “Didn’t mean to startle you. In fact, I would have been happy just to stand here and watch.”
“Watch me collate booklets? Make sure you stick around for the exciting encore of watching paint dry in the storeroom.”
He laughed. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re way more interesting than paint.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“You had a graceful rhythm going, complete with intermittent musical accompaniment. What were you whistling?” he asked.
“I was whistling? I was just…thinking about family.”
His gaze went instantly to her tummy then came back up to meet hers. “Excited about junior?”
“Giddy,” she agreed. “But not just about that. I was sort of counting my blessings.”
It wasn’t until he looked away that she saw how hurtful her words might be. Was it unseemly to seem so cheerfully content in front of the husband you’d
recently left? She was content, though. For the first time in a long time, she was starting to believe that she’d be all right no matter what. That she could
survive disappointments and missteps and pick herself up afterward. It was an empowering realization.
“Well,” he said quickly. “I just came by to get Winnie’s key.”
“Right.” Her duffel bags were packed and in the trunk of her car. She’d still feel better if she could talk with Winnie about it first, but shore-to-ship
communications were spotty at best. She went to her purse and grabbed the bone-shaped key ring. “Here you go. If the dogs give you any trouble or you
can’t find Arpeggio—”
With a wicked grin, David cut her off. “I’ve got it all under control. If I do have any problems, I know where to find you.”
She bit the inside of her lip to keep from laughing at the role reversal. “Of course you’re completely competent. I was just trying to be helpful.”
“Believe me, I know the feeling.” He leaned forward, surprising her with a quick kiss on her cheek. “Pick you up Saturday?” It really didn’t make sense for
them to drive separately to Lilah’s duplex just to pile into Tanner’s car once they arrived.
Rachel nodded. “I’m looking forward to it.” She really was, not only to the fun of shopping and laughing with Lilah, but to being in David’s company again
soon.
Which meant either she and David were the most mature, well-adjusted couple ever to split or that her romantic feelings for her husband hadn’t cooled
nearly as much as she’d let herself believe.
WALKING into the house was like taking a one-way trip to Rachel’s past. She set her keys on the dented antique table in the front hall—they’d bought it for a
great price at this little flea market because of scratches on the surface. David had wanted to restore it, but she liked the imperfections, thought they
provided more character than a glossy veneer could. The silence echoed around her, unnatural. Had it always been so quiet here? She’d grown
accustomed to the considerable background noise at Winnie’s house. Here, there were no animals, only wall-to-wall memories.
She slid out of her shoes and went straight to the kitchen. Despite grappling with nausea these days, she was starving. Some men living on their own
might have cupboards devoid of anything but basic guy staples, but the refrigerator boasted a huge selection of produce, marinated chicken breasts,
organic eggs, three types of fruit juice and a nearly full gallon of milk. The freezer was also stocked with an array of choices. She made herself a three-egg
omelet with mushrooms, cheese, peppers, broccoli florets and a side of whole-grain toast. Afterward, when she was pleasantly stuffed, she decided she
should work on the scrapbook she and Ari planned to give Lilah and Tanner at their rehearsal dinner.
It had been Arianne’s idea, although Rachel freely admitted that not only did her sister-in-law take lousy pictures—half of which included her thumb over
the lens—she was no good at arranging them artfully. “You have an eye for these things,” Ari had wheedled.
“In other words, you’re hoping I’ll do all the work,” Rachel had translated with a laugh.
“In a nutshell.”
With Quinn’s help, the two of them had been surreptitiously gathering pictures from half the people in town. Rachel would be shocked if Lilah and Tanner
hadn’t caught wind of it yet. Mistletonians weren’t known for their ability to keep secrets. Rachel had an assortment of childhood pictures, sweetheart
photos from when the couple had first dated back in high school, individual milestone shots, such as college graduations and Lilah’s first day teaching,
and more recent mementos from the previous year, when they’d rekindled their romance. Even though Rachel had been happy to help with the project,
she’d been procrastinating. Laying out a visual representation of another couple’s romance while her own was in decline had been difficult.
Now just the opposite was happening. Sure, there was a melancholy twinge when she looked at the timeline of Lilah and Tanner’s love spread out across
her coffee table, but staring at their memories, she was also caught up in her own. Good ones. As she cut and glued and sorted through her collection of
stamps and die-cut embellishments, she found herself unconsciously whistling again. She paused, replaying the melody in her mind to figure out what it
was.
“Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head.”
Just as she was debating turning on the radio versus the television for background noise, the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“It’s me,” David said. “I just wanted to let you know there’s a rerun of Lost on TV tonight.”
“Oh. Okay, thanks.”
“It’s a repeat, but I’m pretty sure it’s that one you missed last fall.”
Because she’d misprogrammed the VCR, she remembered, taping an hour’s worth of some completely random channel. “That’s sweet, David, but I
caught that episode. Watched it online.”
There was a pause. “You saw it without me?” They’d watched the show together from the very first episode, speculating during commercials, each having
different theories about where the storylines were going and how to tell when Ben was lying (when his lips were moving).
“Sorry,” she said, meaning it. Funny with everything that each of them could legitimately regret about their relationship how bad she suddenly felt about
watching an hour of television alone. “You haven’t seen it?”
“No. It’s on in about ten minutes. I was planning to get the dogs settled and sit down with a sandwich for dinner.”
“I’ll turn it on, too,” she decided. “You know how that show is. There are always clues you miss the first time around.”
Once they got off the phone, she got the remote control out of the side pocket of David’s recliner and found the right channel. During the second
commercial break, David called to ask her if the episode was going to conclude the way he thought—it wasn’t—and then laughingly argued with her when
she refused to tell him how it did end.
“Just wait and see,” she teased. “I kind of like you not having all the answers for a change.”
“Gee, thanks.” The casual affection in his tone belied his words. “Have you been taking brat lessons from Ari?”
“I’m hanging up on you now,” she informed him. “Show’s coming back on.”
Half an hour later, he called back during another commercial break trying to remember where he’d seen one of the guest actors before.
“You know, that’s the sort of thing you could find in about thirty seconds on the Internet,” she pointed out, holding her breath. Would he tell her that the calls
weren’t just about the show? Perhaps he looked forward to talking to her the same way she was looking forward to seeing him again on Saturday.
“Yeah, but if I go online, I’m going to look up the episode and see how it ends. I have no willpower.”
She snorted, thinking of his dedicated jogging regimen and the way he pursued goals with determination. “What a crock.”
“Well.” His voice went lower. “I have more self-discipline when it comes to some things than others.”
She sat a little straighter on the couch. “Really?”
“Really. I keep entertaining these thoughts that I tell myself are inappropriate, but it hasn’t stopped me from thinking them.” He paused. “Anything like that
ever happen to you?”
Only whenever she saw him. Or heard his voice. Or thought of him. “Yeah, as a matter of fact.”
“Any tips on how to handle it?”
Oh, sure—the one time David asked for advice from her, she was clueless what to tell him. “You got me.”
“All evidence to the contrary.” He said it lightly, but there was a noticeable undercurrent.
He misses me. Whether his feelings were spawned by learning about the baby or by the fragile new peace between them or by nostalgia from the
preparations for the upcoming wedding, she didn’t doubt that the emotion was legitimate. It wasn’t fair that they were getting along better apart than they
had together. Was it because they were both so happy about the baby? It was easier to get along when things were going well, but would their renewed
friendship withstand future hardships? That’s where they’d stumbled before. For better or worse. The latter was clearly the more difficult to master.
The blaring notes of some show’s theme song jolted her attention back to the television, where opening credits were rolling. She reached for the remote.
“We missed the rest of Lost.”
He groaned. “Okay, now you have to tell me how it ended.”
Once she’d obligingly filled him in, they said their good-nights. With the television off and David gone, the house was more hushed than ever. Unable to
get back into her scrapbooking groove, she decided to get ready for bed. And sleep where?
The logical choice was probably the larger quality mattress in the master bedroom, but she hadn’t slept there in over a month. Pondering, she flipped on
the hallway light and walked to the would-be nursery where she’d spent her most recent nights in the house.
The room looked different even though nothing discernible had changed. It seemed bigger, somehow, not a place where she felt trapped anymore but a
space of infinite possibilities. She thought back to her time on the phone with David, and optimism bubbled inside her. Was there a chance that, by the
time they learned this baby’s gender, Rachel would be living in the house with him? She imagined sitting next to him in bed, poring over magazines
together, eyeing pink teddy bear motifs or sports mobiles with soccer balls and baseballs.
“I can’t wait,” she said aloud. Was it strange to talk to your belly? “I can’t wait to meet you. We already love you so much.”
Having struggled through the tough decisions—whether to take the drugs, when it was time to stop, whether they should try again—she was exhilarated by
the prospect of making the fun decisions. The nursery theme, buying cute little outfits, adding cartoons to her movie collection and finding copies of
beloved children’s books. She decided not to sleep in here, whether because of superstition or because she wouldn’t get any rest staring at the walls and
trying to picture how different borders and stencils would look, but she took one long last look before turning off the light.
Infinite possibilities. A phrase that suddenly seemed to apply not just to this room, but her life.
“THANKS AGAIN for agreeing to this,” David said, his grateful smile making him so appealing that Rachel lost her breath for a minute.
I want to kiss him. She turned toward the door under the pretext of trying the handle and making sure she’d locked it. “Don’t mention it.”
She hadn’t done any Christmas shopping and, like everything else in her life, she had a lot of catching up to do. Plus, she truly adored Tanner and Lilah. It
promised to be an enjoyable day. For all that one heard about pregnancy mood swings, in a way, she was more serene than she had been in months.
“How are you feeling this morning?” David asked as they walked down the driveway. “Everything all right with you and the little one?”
“We’re great.” She broke into a wide smile as a thought struck her. “Just think, if all goes well, this time next year junior will be experiencing his or her first
Christmas.”
David grinned with her. “And we’ll get our first shot at playing Santa. I’ll bet…” He trailed off, his smile fading.
“It’s a year away,” she said gently. “A lot could happen.” She didn’t want to make false promises or rush to any decisions, but she was going to keep an
open mind.
Even if she and David parted ways as planned, she had every intention of making this split amicable and working out the best possible custody situation
for all three of them. Still, the harsh truth was that no method of sharing birthdays and divvying up holidays could replace living together, having both
parents there for every milestone. Her heart stuttered. What if she missed the first time their baby rolled over or slept through the night, what if she missed
the first step? She couldn’t bear the idea, but she couldn’t begrudge David those moments, either.
His manner subdued, he opened her door for her.
“So, your mom came by to get the key from you?” she asked, fishing for conversation.
“Yeah. I told her we both really appreciated it.”
Susan, who’d once been Winnie’s Sunday-school teacher, would let the dogs out around lunch. Rachel had asked Tanner and Lilah if they could have an
early dinner and return from their day of shopping in time for someone to give the pooches adequate attention this evening. David had promised to take
them for a long walk if it wasn’t too cold.
It was only a short drive to Lilah’s. Tanner had his own apartment for the time being, but would move in with Lilah after the wedding while they waited for
their house to be finished. After some weather delays and switching contractors in the middle of construction, Lilah had grumbled that the next time they
had the bright idea to build their own house, she was buying stock in aspirin. Nevertheless, Rachel thought it was romantic that Lilah and Tanner had put
such effort and thought into planning their future together, starting from the steel-reinforced concrete foundation and working their way up.
Lilah opened the front door before they even had a chance to knock. “Hey, guys.” She hugged both of them. “Tanner just ran back to the kitchen to grab a
cookie tin.”
“Road-trip provisions,” her husband-to-be called.
“We’re not going to be on the road that long,” Lilah reminded him, smiling indulgently. “Thank heavens for Tanner. This might be the first year I don’t gain
ten pounds from the holiday treats my students bring in.”
Tanner appeared in the hallway behind her, twirling his car keys. Tucked under his other arm was a blue tin painted with snowflakes. “So, are we all set to
hit the road?”
Just as David was saying yes, Rachel interrupted, “Actually, Lilah, would you mind if I use your bathroom first?”
“Be my guest.”
There was nothing remarkable in Rachel’s request—the first time—but she was sure Tanner and Lilah were surprised when she asked him to pull over for
their third pit stop before they reached the shopping megaplex.
“Feeling okay?” Lilah asked as she held her hands under an automatic dryer.
Rachel rubbed her own hands together under the water. “Absolutely. Just a small bladder.” With a tiny person growing on top of it.
“I was thinking, when we get there, we should split up—guys and girls?”
“Yes!”
Lilah laughed at Rachel’s eager agreement. “Guess you’re not done shopping for David, either, huh?”
More like she hadn’t even started. They were spending Christmas Day with the Waides, opening presents together as they had for the past four years.
She didn’t have the first clue what to get him this year. Everything felt wrong.
“I know it’s hypocritical,” Lilah was saying, “my always admonishing the kids not to procrastinate when I’ve put off almost all of my shopping until a week
and a half before Christmas, but I’ve been so preoccupied with the wedding.”
“Understandable.” Rachel reached for the door.
“I’ve at least been thinking about what I want to buy, so it’s not complete procrastination, right? I think Tanner did all his shopping on the Internet, but I’m
old-fashioned.” Lilah grinned. “I like the crowds, the fruitless hunt for a parking spot, the canned carols playing overhead.”
Rachel laughed. “Yeah, nothing says happiest time of the year like lamenting that they’re all sold out of the size you need while you’re listening to ‘Santa
Claus Is Coming to Town’ for the fifth time that day.”
“Exactly!”
As they walked down the sidewalk toward the car, Lilah nodded toward the two men waiting within. “If we split up, maybe it’ll give the guys a chance to
talk.”
“About?”
Lilah faltered. “Oh. Well, I don’t know specifically. I should have thought before I babbled.”
“Lilah, what is it?”
The redhead averted her gaze. “Tanner would probably feel self-conscious if he knew I was saying this.”
“Don’t worry, he won’t hear it from me.”
“It’s just that, lately, he’s had the feeling something’s on David’s mind.” Lilah looked even more uncomfortable. “Probably nothing, stuff at the store or
whatever.”
“Mmm.” Rachel kept her expression determinedly noncommittal.
“People who don’t know him well wouldn’t see it, but Tanner can be really sensitive. He’s the younger brother and was the family screwup.”
Rachel waved a hand. “Nobody thinks of him that way.”
“He does sometimes. I think it would mean a lot if, for a change, his respected older brother came to him for advice.” Lilah’s face went soft with affection.
“Tanner would never put it this way, but I think the big lug just wants to feel needed. Like he’s graduated to a point where David considers him his equal.”
Rachel felt a pang of sympathy for her brother-in-law. Buddy, I know how you feel.

Chapter Eleven
“You buy anything else for your bride-to-be and you’re gonna need a pack mule.” David watched his brother shift bags to balance weight distribution.
“Mock all you want,” Tanner rejoined. “Your harassment is nothing compared to hugs and kisses from a happy Lilah on Christmas morning.”
David barely heard anything after kisses. The taste of Rachel’s kiss had been taunting him all week, particularly today, as they’d sat close together in the
backseat of Tanner’s compact car. She glowed with an expression of sublime contentment—he didn’t think he’d ever seen a more beautiful woman. More
than once, he’d seen her hand go to her abdomen, a quick gesture of affection toward their unborn child. He knew she didn’t realize she was doing it, but
if she kept it up, May Gideon and Mindy Nelson wouldn’t be the only ones to clue in to the pregnancy.
Fine with me. Whenever he thought about Rachel having his baby, he wanted to shout the news from the rooftops. Could there be a more amazing
Christmas gift for his mom and dad than telling them they were going to be grandparents? He could imagine Zachariah’s gruff expression of pride, his
turning away because he’d never become entirely comfortable with anyone seeing emotion on his face. Susan, on the other hand, would sob
unabashedly, gathering David and Rachel both in a group hug. His parents had always loved her.
They’d be devastated when she left. How was he going to explain it? His pulse thundered. I can’t let it come to that.
“Tanner, if you did something, if you messed things up with Lilah…”
“You mean like move away with only a note for a goodbye?” Tanner asked wryly. He and Lilah had dated all through high school and college before he’d
decided it was too claustrophobic for him to stay in Mistletoe, but he couldn’t ask her to give up the town she loved. “Been there, done that. Wait, we’re not
talking about me. You didn’t mean just a hypothetical, did you? It would help if I knew more about the details.”
“Yeah. I wish I understood those better myself.” David looked away, wondering if he should have swallowed his pride before now and asked his parents
for their input. Susan had said even they’d had their share of rough patches. As he stared idly down the mall corridor, his gaze caught on a window display
of baby furniture. A white wooden crib gleamed in the center, its starkness mediated by the rainbow-colored baby blanket and a cheerful mobile hanging
overhead.
He found himself grinning suddenly. Who said he had to wait until next Christmas to start playing Santa to their child? Maybe a present like this would
remind Rachel of all they’d dreamed of together, all they still had in common and could share.
“Tanner, could we part company for a little bit?” They’d been planning to meet the girls at a Mexican restaurant at the other end of the mall in about forty
minutes. If David walked fast, he should have enough time to make some purchases and sign some delivery slips.
ALL WEEK Rachel had been tiring out faster than normal, and after a day of walking through stores, she was ready to crash. Even Lilah, caught up in her
relentless holiday cheer, noticed Rachel’s energy flagging.
Lilah consulted her watch. “We still have a few minutes, but what say we grab a booth at the restaurant a few minutes early and gorge ourselves on chips
and queso?”
“Yes, please.”
They’d worked their way through half a bowl of melted cheese when David arrived, Tanner moments behind him, only one black-and-gold plastic bag
between them.
Lilah twirled the straw in her margarita. “You two seemed to have missed the point of today.”
“I’ve actually got most of my Christmas shopping under control,” David admitted, sliding in next to Rachel. Her entire body went on high alert at his
nearness.
“I made a stop at the car,” Tanner said, “to hide my stuff in the trunk. Lilah peeks.”
“I do not,” she protested.
“You’re terrible,” he countered. “Alone in a room for twenty seconds with a package, you’re shaking it, weighing it, doing everything but x-raying it and you
probably only stop short of that because you don’t have the right equipment.”
“All a legitimate part of the gift-giving experience.” She sniffed. “Rachel, David, help me out here. Trying to figure out what’s in the box is a time-honored
tradition. It’s not the same as peeking, is it?”
“You and David must be kindred souls,” Rachel said. “He can guess what’s inside just by looking at the wrapped package.”
David grinned at her. “Not every year.”
She knew he was thinking of his birthday a couple of years ago, when Rachel had outwitted him. She’d bought him running shoes he’d insisted cost too
much for him to splurge on, then put the box from the store inside a larger box, repeating the process three times until his best guess when he saw it had
been a confused “new grill?” even though the one they’d owned was still in good condition. Far more fun had been the small green gift bag she’d weighted
with decorative garden rocks one Valentine’s Day so that the beribboned package had been appallingly heavy, giving no hint that the real present inside
was a gossamer pink-lace chemise she’d worn for him later that evening.
It hadn’t stayed on her long.
“You’re blushing,” David said quietly.
“No, I’m not. My cheeks are just flushed from the spicy salsa.”
He laughed.
“You guys gonna tell everyone on this side of the table what’s so funny?” Tanner wanted to know.
“Nope,” David said. “Private couple stuff. I’m sure the two of you understand, as sickeningly mushy as you are.”
“Hey, we’ve been on our best behavior today,” Lilah said, eyes wide. “I haven’t called Tanner sweetums a single time.”
Next to her, Tanner shuddered. “Whatever you do, don’t start now.”
“Of course not. You know that’s not my idea of romantic conversation.” Lilah slid closer to him on the vinyl seat, her voice dropping progressively as she
whispered in his ear. “I’m more likely to say something like…”
Tanner cleared his throat, then looked across the table. “You guys eat fast. I have plans after this.”
Rachel chuckled along with everyone else, not so much fatigued now as sleepily sated. The food was excellent, and the company was enjoyable. She
savored her chicken fajitas while Lilah confessed her top-ten list of things she worried would go wrong at the wedding. They swapped humorous tales of
faux pas they’d witnessed, including the ceremony David and Rachel had attended early in their own marriage where the bride’s veil had been singed
during the lighting of the unity candle—particularly ironic since her groom, the one responsible, was a fireman.
“I remember your wedding,” Tanner said, smiling at Rachel and David. “Flawless. The two of you are so organized, so perfect together.”
Rachel squirmed in her chair, startled when David took her hand, his fingers caressing hers briefly.
“Rach deserves the credit for that. The ceremony was at her family’s church, and she took care of all the details.”
“What was it like?” Lilah asked, snuggled against her fiancé’s shoulder.
“It was raining that day,” Tanner began.
“Which is supposed to be lucky,” Rachel interjected, “but I’ve never understood how people risk having outdoor weddings.”
“The storm let up during the ceremony. We all went outside to wait and throw birdseed as they got in their limo.” Tanner’s face grew more animated as he
described the scene for Lilah. “I kid you not, just as they emerged on the church steps, the sun broke through the clouds and a rainbow appeared over
their car. You can see it in some of the wedding photos. It was like they were driving off into their own Hollywood ending.”
Rachel bit her bottom lip. Hollywood ending? If they weren’t careful, it would be more like a tragic independent film with a depressing soundtrack.
“I don’t remember the rainbow,” David admitted. He was responding to Tanner’s story but staring into Rachel’s eyes. “I barely remember anything about
the day, except how beautiful you looked, watching you walk down that aisle toward me and knowing I couldn’t possibly deserve you.”
The golden boy of Mistletoe not deserve her? But his aquamarine eyes radiated so much sincerity she couldn’t think straight. “David…”
“I know, I know. I’m giving them a run for their nauseating and mushy title. I should stop.” He managed to tear his gaze away, his voice more composed
when he glanced at Tanner and Lilah. “If poor Ari were here, she wouldn’t be able to keep down her food. Thanks, though.”
Tanner raised an eyebrow. “For?”
“Reminding me of that day, how lucky I was. The wedding goes fast. All those months of planning, and then it turns out to be this blur. Try to hang on to it.
Keep those memories, and don’t ever take each other for granted.”
Lilah’s gaze was watery. “If you’re making me cry now, I can just imagine the damage you’ll do during the toast!”
“Wear waterproof mascara,” Rachel suggested. “That’s my plan.” For getting through the ceremony, anyway. She was no longer certain how she was
going to make it beyond that. When David said things that were so sweet and devoted, it was hard to remember why she’d ever believed they should be
apart.
THE BABY book Rachel had retrieved from the very back of her closet warned that pregnant women were prone to vivid dreams, something to do with
estrogen fluctuations and their effect on REM sleep. The book also assured mothers-to-be that in a time as emotional as pregnancy, nightmares were
common and shouldn’t be taken as omens that something was wrong. Rachel was not having nightmares, though.
Far from it.
Saturday night, after the drive back to Mistletoe in the intimate dark of early evening, her husband’s body so close to hers in the cramped backseat that
she could feel his heat through her clothes, David had stayed on her mind long after she’d fallen asleep. She’d awakened in the middle of the night from
embarrassingly detailed erotic dreams, tangled in sweaty sheets with her body still throbbing in pleasure. Sunday night had brought more of the same,
dreams that haunted her thoughts while she got ready for work on Monday. It was difficult to focus on something as mundane as mailing labels when, at
random moments, she’d reexperience the slide of David’s muscled body against hers.
During the middle of one such flashback that afternoon, she tugged at the collar of her sweater, suddenly feeling as if it was about ten degrees too warm
in here. Good thing May had run to the bank with the afternoon deposit, or Rachel would be fielding questions about her clearly flustered state.
She was jarred back to reality by an insistent buzzing, a printer alarm that signaled a jam. Bending her knees, she squatted down to correct the situation.
With a little effort, she wrestled the crumpled papers free and hit Continue. The cranky printer claimed the next two sheets as sacrifice, eating them, as
well. Swearing softly, she turned the machine off, then back on, waiting for a blinking green light before she tried again. The first page had just printed
successfully when she heard the front door open.
“Hello,” she called, standing to greet a potential customer. “I’ll be right—” Tunnel vision pressed in around her, darkening rapidly to no vision whatsoever
as her head went balloon-light and floaty. She thought she managed to squeak out a final word, though she wasn’t sure what, before she fell.
When she came to, Rachel was too disoriented to know how much time had passed. She was on the floor by the industrial printers, her feet propped on a
carton full of paper. May was fanning her with a spiral notebook, worry pinching her face as she spoke into the phone cradled at her shoulder.
“Oh, you’re awake! Thank God. David, she’s awake.”
Rachel blinked, still dizzy.
“You want something to drink, sweetie? Maybe I should get you a glass of water. Here, you can talk to David.”
Rachel didn’t feel much like talking to anyone, but she was too dazed to do anything but accept the phone pressed into her hand. “H-hello?”
“You stay right there,” David said, his voice taut with concern. “I’m on my way.”
Her thoughts began to clear enough for a twinge of humor. He wanted her to stay exactly where she was? “You don’t have to…”
“Rach, I’m coming over. It’s nonnegotiable. See you in a minute.”
Then she was left with only a dial tone as May fussed about what to do next. “You probably shouldn’t lift your head to drink, but I can’t find a straw. Am I
supposed to have you breathe into a paper bag?”
That didn’t sound right. “I think for fainting, it’s supposed to be head between the knees.” Although it was probably too late for that in her case. Rachel
swallowed, taking stock to see if she was hurt and whether her heart rate was normal. “Really, I think I’m okay.”
May continued wringing her hands as Rachel sipped the cool water. “You scared the dickens out of me. I walked in the door, you popped up from behind
the counter, then just crashed over like a tree. All that was missing was someone to yell Timber! It took ten years off my life when I couldn’t get you to
answer me.”
“Sorry. Was I out long?”
“Nah, just a moment or two. Felt like more when I was panicking. I probably should have called 911, but I dialed David over at the store without thinking.”
“No, I’m glad you didn’t call 911,” Rachel said. As it was, she was already mortified. “I’m fine now.”
She was fine. A horrible thought struck her, making her tremble with sick apprehension. Was the baby okay? Falling couldn’t be good for the pregnancy.
She didn’t have long to obsess over that, however, before David burst into the shop.
“Rachel!”
May stood, waving at him. “Back here.”
He rounded the counter at top speed, his gaze frantic and his skin ashen.
Rachel was stunned. He looks worse than I do. At least, he looked worse than she imagined she did.
Kneeling next to her, he cupped her face in his large hands, his touch infinitely tender. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just stood up too fast. But—” She broke off, scared to put her fears into words.
“I called Dr. McDermott’s office and told them I was bringing you in. She didn’t hit her head or anything when she fell, did she?” he asked May.
“Not really, just toppled over.” May sent another agitated glance toward her only full-time employee, trying her best to look jovial. “You go with the big guy
here and let him pamper you for the rest of the day, okay?”
Rachel braced herself to stand, but David had already slid his arms around her.
“I’ve got you,” he said.
“I can—” She lost her words as he scooped her against him.
Mmm, nice. She was reminded of their wedding night, when he’d carried her over the threshold of their hotel room, kicking the door shut behind him and
not stopping until he’d reached the four-poster bed. She thought about pointing out that being pressed against him was not helping her light-headed
condition, but by then they’d reached his car, and he had to set her on her unsteady feet to open the door for her.
“I feel very silly about this,” she said as she buckled her seat belt.
He didn’t look at her. “Silly is when cartoon animals slip on strategically placed banana peels, not when the woman I love passes out cold at work.” His
tone was so even he could have been introducing himself to a stranger, but his knuckles were white on the steering wheel.
The woman I love? Her mouth went dry. She’d heard him say he loved her hundreds—probably thousands—of times, but at the moment, it seemed liked
the most dramatic proclamation ever made. She had no idea how to respond.
Fortunately—and maybe because he wasn’t sure how she would answer—he didn’t give her a chance. “This is the first time this has happened, right? No
other fainting episodes we should let the doc know about?”
“Dizzy a few times, but they always passed after a second.”
At the OB’s office, he helped her out of the car, his manner solicitous, but his tight grip on her hand crushing. Feeling firsthand how much she’d alarmed
him, she managed not to wince. She let him hold on, sensing that he needed it.
A different nurse than the one they’d last seen ushered them back to wait for Dr. McDermott. Unlike his usual charming self, David was terse, never taking
his eyes from Rachel even when he spoke to others. After a quick exam, Dr. McDermott declared there was no reason for worry.
“Everything seems fine,” she said in her most soothing professional voice. “This isn’t uncommon. You’ve got extra blood going to your uterus and legs
now, your circulatory system’s got some adjusting to do. Stand slowly, don’t lock your knees, stay hydrated. Make sure you’re getting plenty of protein so
that your blood sugar doesn’t get too low. You did the right thing by coming in today, but I don’t want you to worry unduly. If it happens again, we’ll monitor
the situation and maybe run a few tests.”
“Thanks.” Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. “So I don’t have to go on bed rest or anything?”
Lydia chuckled. “No. But it wouldn’t hurt for you to take it easy today and keep your feet up.”
“Taken care of,” David said, finally starting to regain color in his face.
He looked so adamant that Rachel had a sudden vision of him moving all five of Winnie’s pets into their house so he could babysit her ’round the clock.
Once they were back in the car, she told him, “Sorry about today. Scaring you like that.”
“You don’t need to apologize. It’s not like you did it on purpose. Although—” he gave her a wan smile “—I’d appreciate it if you could avoid doing it again.
I’m going to take you home, get you settled. Then I’ll go by Winnie’s, make sure everyone’s fed and give the dogs some playtime outside. Hildie’s getting
great at fetch. She jumps up to catch the ball and rarely misses. But after I’ve taken care of them, I’ll be back to check on you and fix dinner. Any
requests?”
“Whatever’s easiest.”
When they got to the house, he unlocked the door, waiting as she preceded him inside. It could have been any one of a hundred times—them coming
back from Sunday lunch at his parents’, returning from a soccer game he’d coached, getting home after a town meeting. Don’t forget doctor visits. They’d
come home from lots of different doctors’ visits in varying moods—optimistic that they might finally get their baby, frustrated that, after long months,
nothing had changed, devastated that the pregnancy had terminated.
“Wow.” He looked past her at the coffee table in the living room. Photos, stickers, scissors and construction paper all lay in assorted piles. “Someone’s
been busy.”
“The scrapbook,” she reminded him. “You think they know?”
David shrugged. “Nobody’s mentioned it to me, but what are the chances? It’s impossible to keep a secret here.”
“Not impossible,” she murmured. She didn’t think anyone knew about their separation. Anyone who’d seen the way he cradled her and carried her to the
car today probably wouldn’t believe her even if she told them.
He swung his gaze from the scrapbooking supplies back to her. “We should get you to bed.”
“Typical guy,” she teased, wanting to keep his earlier worry at bay. “Only one thing on his mind.”
He didn’t smile, though. “If I thought there was even the slightest chance you’d let me join you…”
His words skittered along her nerve endings, and she experienced a Technicolor flashback to her dreams of the night before. Thankfully, he was too
concerned about her to attempt a seduction, because she seriously doubted she could resist right now.
“Tell you what,” he suggested, “why don’t you go to the bedroom and change into something comfy? I’ll go pour you a drink. What do you feel like? Maybe I
can bring you a snack, too.”
Rachel thought about it for a minute. “Apples—”
“—and peanut butter, with a glass of milk?” David grinned at her. “Coming right up.”
He knew her well, she thought as she changed into pajama bottoms and a faded Henley shirt. And he took good care of her, especially in situations like
today’s.
Was she an idiot ever to have resented that? So she had a husband who couldn’t grasp that there were times she didn’t want him to ride to her rescue,
striding in like some mythological hero with answers on how to solve all her problems—big deal. At least he tried; at least he cared. Even though the crisis
today had been brief, during those terrifying moments when she’d worried something might have happened to the baby, she’d thanked God she didn’t
have to go through it alone.
Pasting pictures of Lilah and Tanner into the album, she’d thought over and over about what that couple had been through. Tanner had panicked once and
left; it had been a huge leap of faith for Lilah to take him back, trusting that he wouldn’t hurt her again. Now they looked at each other as if they were the
only two people in the world, radiating so much happiness that seeing them was like staring directly into the sun. It would have been understandable if
Lilah had refused to give him another chance, but then, think about how much she would have been missing now.
Think about what you’re missing. Rachel climbed beneath the sheets, her hand smoothing over the side where David had always slept.
He appeared in the doorway of their room carrying a wooden tray. A tart green apple was sliced and slathered with crunchy peanut butter, just the way she
liked. A glass of skim milk sat next to the plate.
Her stomach rumbled in anticipation. What with being so busy fainting and causing panic, she’d missed lunch. “Thank you.”
He put the tray across her lap, then sat gingerly on the side of the bed. When was the last time they’d been here together? A wry smile touched the corner
of her lips as she recalled the sonogram picture. About ten weeks ago.
“Anything else you need?” he asked her.
It was such a loaded question that she merely shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. She took a bite of apple just for the extra security.
“All right. I’m going to run to Winnie’s for a little while. The cordless phone is right there on the nightstand, and I’ll have my cell with me at all times. If you
need anything…”
“I know.” She licked a spot of peanut butter off her finger. “And I appreciate it.”
He watched her eat, so intent that she held a slice toward him.
“Want one?” she asked.
He huffed out an amused sound that was more than a sigh but not fully a laugh. “You and your peanut-butter apples. Sure, why not?” He leaned forward to
take the end with his teeth while his hand came up to hold the other half. His breath was warm against her skin.
Rachel shivered.
He straightened immediately, swallowing a bite of apple. “You cold? I can turn up the heat. Or get another blanket out of the closet.”
“No, I’m not cold at all. It was just…one of those involuntary muscle things.” She washed down the lie with some milk, struggling with the question she
wanted to ask. “David? There is one thing.”
“Absolutely.” He got to his feet, looking relieved to have a task. “You name it.”
“Before you go…” She worried at her bottom lip with her teeth, feeling weak for what she was about to ask and hoping it didn’t qualify as a selfish mixed
signal, but she was still so shaken from earlier. “Before you go, could you maybe just hold me for a minute?”
His expression was comically dumbfounded. Whatever he’d been expecting, that hadn’t been it. “All right,” he said slowly. “I can do that.”
Sitting against the headboard, he scooted over until he was almost behind her. She moved the tray onto the nightstand and leaned back, reclining against
his chest. Breathing in the scent of him, she let her eyes close, sighing when his arms went around her.
She shifted suddenly, realizing how still and quiet he was behind her. “David?”
“Yeah?”
“Just checking.”
He smoothed a hand over her head, trailing it to the end of her dark hair. “I’m here, babe. For as long as you need me to be.”
Tears pricked her eyes at the sweet poignancy of the moment. This was exactly what she’d needed, although it might have been unfair to ask him for it.
Within minutes, she was unsuccessfully stifling yawns. “You should go,” she mumbled. “Once I fall asleep, I’ll be a dead weight on top of you.”
“There are worse things that could happen.” But when she propped herself on her elbows, he obligingly slid free. “I’ll lock the door behind me. You just nap.
Sweet dreams, Rach.”
Her eyes flew open, and she gave a startled laugh.
“Did I say something funny?”
“No. No, it’s just that…” She didn’t want to explain that, here in their marriage bed, she was haunted by hot dreams of him. Closing her eyes again, she
turned onto her side. “When I left for Winnie’s, was it hard for you to be here? In our house?”
He stood, not answering for a long moment. “It’s hard to be without you no matter where I am.”