Their Precious Christmas Miracle

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 full-court 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 well-documented 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.”