From Megan Maitland’s Diary

Dear Diary,

It’s no secret that my family has had their share of problems lately. Especially where baby Cody is concerned. But I refuse to be glum. Abby’s wedding is only days away and the preparations are transforming the mansion into a Christmas wonderland. What a joy it’s going to be to see my daughter marrying the man she loves!

And have I mentioned that Jake is coming home? I’m not sure if he’s returning to Austin to play Santa Claus or Daddy, but I’ll wonder about his reasons later. Right now, the gift of having my son in my arms again is enough for this mother.

Yes, diary, it appears my holiday wishes are beginning to come true. Now if this season of love could also work some sort of miracle and bring Hope and Drake Logan back together again, I would count this a very merry Christmas….

Megan

Dear Reader,

There’s never a dull moment at Maitland Maternity! This unique and now world-renowned clinic was founded twenty-five years ago by Megan Maitland, widow of William Maitland, of the prominent Austin, Texas, Maitlands. Megan is also matriarch of an impressive family of seven children, many of whom are active participants in the everyday miracles that bring children into the world.

As our series begins, the family is stunned by the unexpected arrival of an unidentified baby at the clinic—unidentified, except for the claim that the child is a Maitland. Who are the parents of this child? Is the claim legitimate? Will the media’s tenacious grip on this news damage the clinic’s reputation? Suddenly, rumors and counterclaims abound. Women claiming to be the child’s mother materialize out of the woodwork! How will Megan get at the truth? And how will the media circus affect the lives and loves of the Maitland children—Abby, the head of gynecology, Ellie, the hospital administrator, her twin sister, Beth, who runs the day care center, Mitchell, the fertility specialist, R.J., the vice president of operations—even Anna, who has nothing to do with the clinic, and Jake, the black sheep of the family?

Please join us each month over the next year as the mystery of the Maitland baby unravels, bit by enticing bit, and book by captivating book!

Marsha Zinberg

Senior Editor and Editorial Co-ordinator, Special Projects

Just for Christmas
Stella Bagwell

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For as long as she can remember, Stella Bagwell has loved to read. Add that to being an incurable romantic and she definitely happened onto the perfect job fifteen years ago when she became a full-time romance writer. Now, over forty novels later, she still finds her job a joy and a challenge.

Being married to her high school sweetheart for twenty-nine years has taught Stella much about the staying power of true love. She and her husband live in the beautiful mountains of southeastern Oklahoma and they consider the fifteen mile trip into town a small price to pay for the solitude they enjoy. They have one grown son who lives in Texas, where he teaches high school math and coaches football.

To two of my most faithful fans, my sisters-in-law, Dorothy and Denise, with much love.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

HOPE LOGAN GLANCED at her wristwatch, then out the open door of the gift shop to the main waiting area of Maitland Maternity Clinic. Noon hour had cleared most of the personnel from the building, but she didn’t have to wonder if her husband would be in his office. As the vice president of finance, Drake was a busy man who rarely took time to eat a sandwich at his desk, much less leave the building for a leisurely meal.

Hope had to see him today. She couldn’t put it off any longer. But she dreaded walking into his office. Since he’d moved out of their home two months ago, she hadn’t asked him for anything. And she wasn’t at all sure how he’d react to her request. But good or bad, she was soon going to find out.

She glanced over her shoulder at her young assistant, who was arranging a row of teddy bears on a display shelf. “Can you handle things for a few minutes, Tess?”

“Sure, Hope. Take your time.”

Time. The word stayed with Hope as she left the gift shop and walked across the quiet waiting area to the elevator doors. For the past several months, she’d felt each tick of the clock as it chipped away at her fertile years. At thirty-two, she wasn’t getting any younger. Yet she was no closer to having a child of her own than she had been at twenty-two. The miscarriage she’d suffered had risked her life, and Drake refused to consider another pregnancy. Not only had she lost her baby, but her husband, too. She shook the depressing thoughts from her mind. Right now she had a more immediate problem to deal with.

On the second floor Hope headed down a long corridor until she reached a door with a gold nameplate that read Vice President Drake Logan.

Even though she’d walked slowly, her heart was pounding. She breathed deeply and prayed she would appear calm and in control once she was facing her husband. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was crumbling without him.

When Hope entered the office, Juanita, Drake’s longtime secretary, was busy at a computer. She hit several buttons on the keyboard before she glanced up to see who was standing beside her desk.

“Hope! How nice to see you!”

Hope gave the older woman a rueful smile. “How are you, Juanita?”

The secretary folded her hands on top of her desk and gave Hope her full attention. “I’m doing well. I’ve missed seeing you these past few weeks.”

In a nervous gesture, Hope pushed a hand through her hair. “I’m still running the gift shop. I’m here in the clinic every day.”

Juanita’s smile was full of concession. “That’s not the same as you dropping by the office for a visit.”

The older woman’s keen black eyes took stock of Hope’s pale face and loose-fitting clothes. In spite of the brave front Hope tried to present to her friends, everyone in the clinic knew she was grieving over her separation from Drake. Everyone except Drake, she thought sadly.

“You’ve lost weight,” Juanita said gently.

Hope gave a negligible wave of her hand. “I needed to. My clothes were getting too snug. This way I’ll have plenty of room to eat for Christmas.”

She glanced across the small room to the closed door leading into Drake’s private office. At this moment she’d rather venture into a den of lions. “Is he busy?”

Juanita smiled wryly. “Some things never change. But at least he’s alone. Go on in,” she urged.

On shaky legs, Hope left the secretary’s desk and crossed the expanse of carpet to Drake’s office. His deep voice immediately answered her brief knock.

“Come in.”

Opening the door, Hope stepped inside the all too familiar room with its comfy leather armchairs and shelves of books and mementos. Drake was behind his desk, and for a moment she said nothing, letting her eyes drink in the precious sight of him.

Even now, after all the pain he’d put her through, she still had to admit he was the most impressive-looking man she’d ever known. Thick, light brown hair lay in unruly waves above his ears, long enough in the back to tease the top of his collar. A wayward hank was always falling forward onto his wide forehead, which was more often wrinkled in a scowl than a smile. Sandy brown brows and long lashes framed a pair of eyes as green as a tropical sea.

His face was lean and angular, his lips full and well defined. The strong lines of his nose and cheekbones belied a trace of Choctaw blood, handed down through his father’s side of the family.

Hope had always considered Drake’s features a bit too rugged to call him classically handsome. But coupled with an athlete’s body and a strong masculine presence, his looks were positively potent. So potent that the sight of him never failed to stir Hope, even after ten years of marriage.

“What is it?” he asked, not bothering to look up from the file he was studying.

“I need to talk to you, Drake.”

At the sound of her voice, Drake’s head jerked up. As his startled gaze collided with hers, he slowly closed the manila folder and lowered it to the desktop.

“Hello, Hope,” he said blandly.

Since Drake had moved out of their home, Hope had barely spoken with him. They’d had to put on a good front at the wedding of their friends, R.J. and Dana, and both had attended the Maitland family’s Thanksgiving dinner. Unlike Hope, Drake didn’t seem to be suffering any ill effects from their separation. His trim body looked just as fit as ever.

Trying to ignore the painful longing pouring through her, she returned his greeting.

“Hello, Drake.”

Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on the desktop. Hope’s gaze followed the movement of his broad shoulders beneath his pinstripe dress shirt.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” he said frankly.

She pressed her dry lips together and silently prayed once again for her heart to slow its frantic pace. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than fainting in front of Drake. He’d think he was the reason. And he’d be right.

“I’m sure you are.”

Her short reply put a twist to his lips. “Are you going to keep standing there by the door or are you going to sit down?”

If she had a choice, Hope would rather remain by the door, away from him, but given the purpose of her visit, that would make her look ridiculous.

Taking a seat in one of the cordovan leather armchairs, she forced herself to cross her legs and ease back as though seeing him again was no more unusual than chatting with an old friend.

“So what’s brought you up here today?” he asked. “Do you need more money?”

Inwardly she flinched. Drake had always believed money and things were important to her. But he was the one who’d been brought up in a wealthy family. He was the one accustomed to having most anything he wanted. Not Hope. All she’d ever wanted was a family. Someone to love. Someone to fill the void she’d experienced growing up without anyone except an irresponsible mother.

“I’m not here for financial reasons. We both know you’ve made sure I have plenty of money,” she reminded him, trying to hide the deep resentment she was feeling.

A frown of frustration marred his features. “Then what do you need, Hope? I have a meeting in fifteen minutes with Megan and Ellie. I don’t want to keep them waiting.”

She wanted to remind him that he’d kept her waiting for months now, but her throat was suddenly so tight she didn’t know whether she could continue to breathe, much less speak.

“I need you, Drake.”

THE SIMPLE WORDS were not what Drake had been expecting to hear, and for a moment he felt as if someone had whacked him in the middle of the chest.

As he tried to regain his breath, his gaze covertly slid over the luscious sight of her. Hope was just as beautiful now as she had been ten years ago when she’d become his wife. Her honey-blond hair was thick and straight and swished against the top of her shoulders. Her skin was as creamy and luminescent as a pearl. And her lips. He didn’t want to think about their sweet fullness, any more than he wanted to think of her long legs wrapped around his, her soft, slender body urgently pressed against him.

“Hope, we’ve been through this argument so many times we might as well be two voices on a tape recorder saying the same things over and over,” he said wearily. “It’s senseless to keep beating the issue to death. I haven’t changed my mind about us trying to have a child. I’m not going to change it.”

Anger flashed briefly in her blue eyes and at the same time her chin lifted with pride and a hint of defiance. “I’m not here to discuss my desire for a child, Drake,” she said curtly.

Drake’s brows lifted with guarded suspicion. “Oh. Then why are you here? To tell me you’ve realized the risks of what another pregnancy might do to you?”

His question caused her lips to compress to a grim line. “I know what the risks are, Drake. You’re the one who can’t get past—”

She broke off and quickly glanced away from him. Drake didn’t urge her to finish what she’d been about to say. He didn’t want to hear it, much less think about it. He’d spent this whole year trying to forget how close she’d come to dying.

Releasing a heavy breath, he picked up a pencil and unwittingly tapped the end against the manila folder lying before him. “So you haven’t given up on the idea of being a mother. Have you made any progress with your plans to adopt?”

Her gaze skittered to him, and for a moment, the shadow of pain he glimpsed in her eyes tore at him like the angry whip of a briar bush.

“I still have my name on a list of adoption agencies. But they all tell me it’s a slow process.” Determination squared her jaw. “But I’m not giving up, Drake. I won’t ever give up wanting a baby.”

Drake was careful to keep his disappointment hidden as his senses continued to drink in her classic beauty. After being without her for two long months, having her this near was both precious and painful.

He rose from his chair and moved around to the front of the desk. Folding his arms over his chest, he stared at her. “Okay, so you’re not here because you’ve changed your mind about having a child. And you don’t need more money. Maybe you’d better tell me exactly why you are here?”

Drake could see anger simmering beneath the surface of her blue eyes. He wasn’t surprised. These past few months, any little thing he said seemed to set her off.

“Don’t speak to me as if I’m one of your business associates, Drake. I am still your wife, even if we don’t live under the same roof.”

His nostrils flared as he skimmed his gaze over her flushed face. “Do you think I’ve forgotten that?”

“I think you’ve forgotten a lot of things,” she said tightly. “Or maybe you just never knew them to begin with.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dear God, don’t let me lose control now, Hope silently prayed. She was here to help little Stevie, and she couldn’t do that by pushing Drake even further away from her.

She drew in a calming breath, then shook her head. “Nothing. Forget that. I didn’t come up here to argue with you, Drake. Far from it.” Her gaze slipped to the sculpted line of his lips, and yearning instantly sprang up inside her. “I’m here to ask you to come home.”

Stunned, Drake stared at her for long moments. Then, muttering an oath, he crossed to the other side of the room, where a wall of plate glass looked over the sweeping drive leading to the clinic. Outside it was a cool winter day in Austin, and the trees were as bare as his heart.

“Hope, I don’t know why you’re doing this to me. You’ve already said you haven’t changed your mind. And I still feel the same. What could possibly be gained by my coming back home? We’d only wind up hurting each other more than we already have.”

Tears stung the back of Hope’s eyes, but she fiercely fought them away. Weakness was the last thing Drake needed to see in her. He had to know that nothing he could say or do would break her determination.

“The last thing I want to do is hurt you, Drake. But—”

Her words halted as he suddenly whirled, his face dark with anger.

“Don’t try to act as though you’ve been thinking of my needs or wants these past few months,” he rasped. “Because we both know what’s been on your mind, and it sure as hell hasn’t been me!”

Quickly, Hope rose to her feet and crossed the room to where he stood. “All right,” she said quietly. “Blame everything on me if you must. I don’t care if you want to paint me the villain. None of that matters right now. I’m not even asking you to come home for my sake.”

Drake was trying his best to digest her words, but it was a hard thing to do when his attention kept slipping to the dove-gray sweater clinging to her breasts, the long black skirt slit up her calf. He knew every inch, every sweet curve beneath her clothing, and he was aching to touch her, taste her, bury himself in the warmth of her body.

“Then why?” he asked hoarsely. “Why do you want me to come home? You think us being back together will improve your chances for adoption?”

If adopting a baby was the only choice she had, she would gladly snatch it. But Hope was still fairly young, and she was healthy. Her deepest desire was to have her husband’s baby, but if not his, then she had to believe there was some man out there who would be glad to give her the family she wanted.

“Whatever you might think of me, Drake, I would never use you—for any reason.”

The trail of his suspicious green eyes was like a red hot torch sliding over her body. She tried to ignore it, but heat was rapidly flushing her cheeks.

“Then why ask me to come back? I don’t—”

“For Stevie,” she interrupted.

Drake’s expression went blank. “Stevie?”

“Yes. Your sister’s son. Denise called a few days ago and asked if I’d be willing to keep him from now until the New Year while she and Phillip are in Europe.”

“Europe!” he burst out. “What the hell are they doing going there? The last time I talked to her, she was ready to divorce Phillip and move to Houston.”

Hope clasped her hands in front of her—mostly to keep from touching him. “Apparently, she’s had a change of heart. They’ve decided to spend some time alone, away from everything, to try to work out their differences.”

Drake shook his head with disgust. “Denise doesn’t know what the hell she wants! And God knows, she should never have had a child. From the time he was born, she’s done nothing but shoulder that little boy off on someone else!”

The last time Hope had seen Stevie, had been a year ago. He’d been five then. A kindergartner with toffee-brown hair, a smattering of freckles and a frail little body. But it had been his eyes that had stayed with Hope. Somber brown eyes without a flicker of joy or laughter to light them.

Denise and Phillip had come to Austin to attend a blues concert and had dropped the boy off at Hope and Drake’s house, expecting, more than asking, them to baby-sit. During his brief stay, Hope had tried her best to make friends with her nephew, but he’d remained a closed book. Since then, the memory of his sad little face still had the power to haunt her.

She nodded in agreement. “That’s one of the reasons I couldn’t refuse. I don’t want Stevie hurt any more than he already has been by his parents’ neglect.”

He glanced at her sharply. “Then why didn’t you insist they take the boy with them? That’s where he needs to be. Not with me. Or you.”

A sigh escaped her as she pushed one hand through her hair. “I know the boy isn’t my responsibility. But it was obvious just by talking to Denise that she’s in no better shape to care for Stevie now than she ever was. And as for Phillip, I never considered him to be father material. But then I don’t suppose Denise ever pressed him to be a dad to Stevie.”

“Why would she?” Drake snorted. “She doesn’t want anything interfering with their social life in Dallas.”

His voice was full of bitterness, and Hope knew he was thinking about his parents. His father had died three years ago from a sudden stroke, and his mother two years before that from a lingering illness, but even with them gone, Drake was still deeply affected by their lack of love and interest in him. Like Stevie, he’d been raised by nannies and placed in one boarding school after another until he was eighteen and on his own at college. He knew all too well what it was like to be neglected and cast aside, and she could only pray he wouldn’t let the same thing happen to his nephew.

“I’m sure Denise and Phillip are both to blame,” Hope said. “But right now I’m more concerned about putting some normalcy back in Stevie’s life while he’s here in Austin.”

Drake frowned. “I don’t see where you need me to do that. The boy has rarely laid eyes on me.”

Hope raised a hand in protest. “He doesn’t know me any better than you. We’re both going to be strangers to him. And he’s going to feel frightened and abandoned. That’s why we need to try to give him a sense of security.”

Drake wearily wiped a hand over his face. “I agree the boy needs security, Hope. But I can’t see us giving it to him. We don’t even have our own house in order!”

“Okay, so we don’t. But we can pretend. That’s all I’m asking, Drake. Just for one month while Stevie is here.”

His brows puckered with confusion. “What are we supposed to pretend? That his parents really do love him? A child knows when he’s loved and when he isn’t. It would be cruel to mislead him.”

She glared at him. “Do you have to be so harsh?”

He sighed. “I’m not being harsh, Hope. I’m being realistic. I can’t help it if you don’t like the truth.”

She didn’t know why his attitude should hurt her. Drake had never been one to sugarcoat anything for any reason. He expected people to face facts, no matter how painful they were. But these past two months without him had been living hell for Hope. Her emotions were raw, and his words were pouring salt deeper into the wound.

Tears were once again scalding the back of her eyes. She blinked and swallowed, then looked away from him before she could manage to speak.

“I don’t want you to—” She stopped, shook her head, then swallowed again. “When I said we could pretend, Drake, I was talking about us. You and me. All I’m asking is that you come home for a month. And make believe you love me.”

Pretend. Make believe. Dear Lord, Drake thought, he didn’t have to do any of that. He loved Hope more than his own life. He always had. She just couldn’t believe it. She thought he was a selfish bastard. And maybe he was, Drake admitted. But that didn’t mean he loved her any less.

When he didn’t say anything, Hope stepped forward and placed her hand on his forearm. It had been too long since she’d touched him, and the feel of her left him trembling inside.

“It’s December, Drake. Christmas is coming. You know how important that is to a child.”

As a young boy, Drake remembered it being a special time for his friends. But not for him. He’d dreaded the holidays. His parents had never failed to fill the house with people he didn’t know. He was relegated to his room upstairs while the parties went on and on. Christmas morning, he and his sister were given a generous hour downstairs to open their gifts, and then the two of them were packed up to their rooms to spend the rest of the day with their nanny. But somehow the worst for Drake had been when he returned to boarding school and heard the stories of his friends’ holidays. Their fathers had played football with them, or taken them fishing and horseback riding. Their mothers had let them help bake Christmas cookies and decorate the tree. Drake hadn’t known what any of that was like, and he’d felt an outsider.

The bitterness of those memories was reflected in his voice when he spoke. “I’m not the right person for the job, Hope. I’d end up making the kid more miserable than he already is.”

Her fingers tightened on his arm as she shook her head. “If I believed that, I wouldn’t be up here right now. I wouldn’t be asking for your help.”

It amazed Drake that even after this separation, she still believed he could be a father. She was like a blue heeler who wouldn’t give up until the last cow was penned. And suddenly he wondered if a month with the three of them together was exactly what Hope needed to make her see just what a rotten father he would make. Maybe then she would realize their marriage could and would survive only if she put the idea of having a child behind her.

“If you’re worried I’ll try to keep you there once Stevie goes back to boarding school, I won’t,” she hurriedly promised. “You can return to your apartment and everything can go back to the way things are now.”

“When is Stevie coming?” Drake asked.

Something in his voice sent hope flickering through her heart. “I have to pick him up at the airport in the morning. Tess is going to run the gift shop for me tomorrow.”

Today was Thursday. He had one more day of work before the weekend. But Drake made his own hours, which were usually far more than what the Maitlands expected of him. He could take off long enough to go to the airport with her.

“I’ll move my things back tonight. Will you be home?”

Hope was suddenly so weak with relief, her legs threatened to give way. “Yes,” she said, then in spite of everything, she had to smile at the small miracle that had just happened. “I’ll be home.”

The joy on her face stabbed Drake right through the heart. Making his wife happy was all he’d ever wanted to do, and he’d tried hard to see that she’d had everything she needed or wanted. But it hadn’t been enough. He hadn’t been enough. And he’d be a stupid man to believe the smile on her face was because of him.

“I’ll be there,” he said, then pulling his arm free of her fingers, he stepped around her and headed out the door.

CHAPTER TWO

LATER THAT EVENING, on her way home, Hope decided at the last minute to stop by Austin Eats Diner. After her meeting with Drake, she’d been too stirred up to eat lunch, and her stomach was gnawing in protest.

Since the diner was on the street corner right next to the clinic, it was often filled with Maitland Maternity staff. Thankfully, Drake wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but she quickly spotted a woman with dark hair in a booth by the window.

Hope made her way through the bustling diner and slid into the seat across from her friend Abby Maitland.

“I stopped by your office before I left the building,” Hope told her. “I was surprised to find you’d already left.”

Abby was the chief ob/gyn at Maitland. It was her mother, Megan, who had founded the clinic twenty-five years ago with her late husband and was still Maitland Maternity’s CEO. The same age as Hope, Abby had been her personal physician and dear friend for many years. Recently, she had become engaged to Kyle McDermott, a local businessman, and their wedding was only a week away. Hope was one of Abby’s bridesmaids. Along with her mother and twin sisters, Beth and Ellie, Abby had been frantically planning the details of the ceremony, which would no doubt be a major social event. Nothing about the Maitland family went unnoticed in Austin, especially of late.

“I had a couple of last-minute cancellations so my schedule ended up being light today,” Abby explained. Then with a bright smile, she asked, “What’s up?”

Hope’s expression turned sly. “Maybe I should ask you that. I heard through the clinic grapevine today that your younger brother Jake was on his way home. Is his return to Austin for your wedding? Or do you think he really might be Cody’s father?”

Groaning, Abby rolled her eyes. “I honestly don’t know what to think anymore. With all the women who’ve shown up at the clinic swearing to be the baby’s mother, you’d think the Maitland men had made love to half the female population of Texas.” She shook her head with disgust. “But as for Jake, none of us really know where he’s been or what he’s been doing. I guess it’s possible he might be the father. I just wish the whole thing would get resolved. The publicity is really wearing on Mother.”

Almost four months ago, Abby, her mother, Megan, brother R.J., and sister Ellie had discovered an abandoned baby boy in a basket at the back of Maitland Maternity. The only clue to the infant’s identity was a note pinned to his diaper, which read, “Dear Megan Maitland, This baby is a Maitland. Please take care of him until I can again.”

“Your mother is a strong woman, Abby. Otherwise, she would have cracked under the pressure she’s had piled on her these past few months.”

The corners of Abby’s lips turned downward and concern shadowed her blue eyes. “That’s true, Hope. But everybody has a breaking point. Every day I wonder just how close my mother is to reaching hers.”

Hope shook her head. “Something will happen to resolve this thing soon. It has to. And in the meantime, Megan has your wedding to look forward to. I know that seeing you married to the man you love is going to make her very happy.”

Appreciation warmed Abby’s eyes. “I needed to hear that, dear friend. Thanks for saying it.”

Before Hope could make any sort of reply, a waitress stopped beside their booth. Everyone called the young, blue-eyed blonde Sara, but no one knew her real name. She’d wandered into a local shelter a few months ago, suffering from amnesia, and still hadn’t regained her memory. Nor had anyone recognized her.

“Hi, Ms. Logan. Can I get you something this evening?”

“A Reuben sandwich and coffee will be fine, Sara. Thanks.”

The pretty waitress scratched the order on her pad, then hurried away. Hope turned her attention to Abby, who was staring thoughtfully after the young woman.

“Has anyone figured out who she is?”

Abby shook her head. “I don’t think so. There wasn’t much information for the authorities to go on. I guess the only thing anyone can do now is pray her memory returns.”

Hope glanced across the room to where the young waitress was serving coffee. “Isn’t there something medically that could be done for her? Some sort of drug or psychoanalysis?”

“Generally doctors like to let amnesiacs heal on their own. It’s not good to try to force a memory.”

The same way it wasn’t good for Hope to try to force Drake into trying for another baby. That was why she hadn’t fought him when he’d announced he wanted to move out of the house. She didn’t want to beg or cajole or demand anything from him. If he ever decided to give her another chance to have a child, she wanted him to do it willingly. A baby should be something they both longed for, not something he felt obligated to give Hope. But so far, his mind was closed to the idea.

“How are things going with you?”

Abby’s question interrupted Hope’s bleak thoughts. Her gaze drifted to her friend. “I asked Drake to come home today. And he agreed.”

Surprise, then joy lit Abby’s face. “That’s wonderful, Hope! I’m so glad to hear it.”

Before Abby could get too excited, Hope held up her hand. “It’s not what you’re thinking, Abby. He’s not moving back because he wants to. He’s doing it for his nephew, Stevie.”

Abby’s brows lifted. “His sister’s child?”

Hope nodded grimly. “Stevie’s parents are going to be gone for a month, and Drake has agreed to move back in to help me with him.”

“Oh.” Abby thoughtfully sipped her coffee. After a moment, she asked, “Are you sure you’re doing the right thing, Hope?”

It was no secret to Abby how much Hope wanted to try to get pregnant again. As her doctor, Abby had assured her the problems with her first pregnancy were highly unlikely to recur. Miscarriages were painful and heartbreaking, but they were also common. Most women went on to deliver healthy, normal babies. Abby was fairly certain Hope would fall into that category, and Hope had every confidence Abby was right. Drake, however, could not be convinced.

“What do you mean, mistake? Do you think I shouldn’t have asked Drake to come home?”

Before Abby could answer, Sara returned with Hope’s sandwich. After filling both their coffee cups, the waitress moved on to the next table.

Hope picked up her sandwich and tried not to let the doubtful frown on Abby’s face ruin her appetite.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, Hope. But—” She shrugged as she carefully considered her next words. “I was just thinking that Drake has been telling you over and over he doesn’t want a child. He even made that clear before the two of you were married. And then when he did finally relent and you got pregnant—well, we won’t go into that right now—I don’t have to tell you how devastated he was when you lost the baby. I’m just wondering if having Stevie around might be a reminder of all that pain.”

Hope glanced out the window of the Austin Eats Diner. The streets were growing dark, and she needed to head home as soon as she finished her sandwich. Drake would show up before too long, and she needed to be ready for his arrival. In more ways than one.

“That’s a chance I have to take, Abby.”

Abby glanced at her sharply. “Is this child that important to you? I wasn’t aware that you were close to Denise, much less her son.”

“We’re not close,” Hope admitted. “It’s been almost a year since I’ve seen Stevie. But that last time was enough—” She broke off as her throat tightened at the memory. “I can’t remember ever seeing such a sad, troubled child, Abby. And when Denise started whining about leaving him at boarding school if Drake and I couldn’t keep him, well…”

Abby nodded knowingly. “Your soft heart caved in.”

Hope made a palms-up gesture. “Guilty as charged. And I know it seems foolish, offering to spend my whole holiday taking care of someone else’s child, but—”

A knowing smile tilted Abby’s lips. “You want to try to give the kid at least one memorable Christmas.”

“How can I expect to be the mother of an adopted child if I can’t even bother to see that my own nephew is nurtured for one month?”

“I see your point.”

Hope’s gaze searched Abby’s face. “But you’re still not convinced I’m doing the right thing.”

Her friend’s features wrinkled into a scowl. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. I can see it all over your face.”

“Forget about Stevie for a moment and consider this,” Abby said. “Your marriage hasn’t ended yet. There’s still a chance to save it.”

“How?” Hope groaned. “By giving up everything I’ve ever wanted? I don’t know that I could be happy that way, Abby. I love Drake, but I want to be a mother.”

Abby reached across the table and gave Hope’s hand an encouraging squeeze. “Believe me, I understand how you feel,” she said gently. “Year after year, I’ve helped bring scores of babies into the world. But delivering a new life is not the same as creating one yourself. I’ve stopped counting the times I’ve asked myself when it will be my turn to take one of those bundles of joy home with me.”

Hope nodded glumly. “That’s true. We’ve both been in the same boat for a long time. Except I had a husband and you didn’t. But now you’re about to be married and you’re going to get the child you want. I don’t even know if I’m going to continue to be Drake’s wife, much less have a baby with him. And as for the idea of adopting—well, as long as Drake and I are separated, I realize my chances are reduced somewhat.”

“Well, if Drake is so determined not to be a father, it’s obvious to me you’d have to cross the idea of adopting off your list if you hope to get back together,” Abby pointed out. “That’s why I’m wondering if this thing with Stevie will only cause more problems.”

Hope gave her friend a worried glance. “What kind of problems? I’ve been thinking—and hoping—that having Stevie around will help change Drake’s attitude about children.”

“Or make it worse,” Abby said, then quickly shook her head. “Oh, I don’t mean to sound pessimistic, Hope. But from what you’ve said, this child might have problems that a real parent would find hard to deal with, much less a man who doesn’t want to be a father.”

“That thought has run through my mind, too, Abby. But I can’t turn my back on the little boy. And deep down, I can’t believe Drake would be coldhearted enough to turn away from him, either. If he is, then…I’ve wasted all these years loving him.”

After that Hope carefully changed the subject to Abby’s wedding plans, and once she’d finished her sandwich, she said goodbye to her friend, then stopped by the counter to pay her bill.

Shelby Lord, the owner of the diner and a longtime acquaintance of Hope’s, stood behind the cash register.

“Hi, Hope. How are things going today?” Not waiting for an answer, the hardworking redhead leaned forward and lowered her voice for Hope’s ears only. “Have you made any headway with that husband of yours?”

Shelby was well-meaning, and Hope liked the other woman very much, but it was a known fact she was a bit of a busybody. Hope decided to keep the news of Drake’s moving back home to herself. Shelby would find out soon enough. Here in the diner, no news escaped her. And anyway, nothing had really changed between her and Drake. The only difference was that they’d be sleeping under the same roof.

“Not really, Shelby. Have you been busy today?”

The young woman wearily pushed a stray curl from her forehead as she searched through a stack of tickets jabbed on a spike. “Horribly. The place has been full all day. But that’s what I like to see.”

With the matching ticket finally in hand, she turned to Hope and the register. “You’ve probably already heard about Jake Maitland coming home.”

Hope nodded. “Everyone is saying he’s coming back because of baby Cody. But I’m not so sure. He might just be coming back for Abby’s wedding and to see his mother. You’re a friend of the family, Shelby. Surely you know him enough to have some ideas.”

Shelby’s green eyes twinkled, and a shrewd grin spread over her face. “Growing up, I thought he was the best-looking guy I’d ever met. But because I was a girl, I didn’t have the chance to know him like my brothers did—especially Garrett.”

“So you haven’t talked to him lately? Abby just told me she didn’t have a clue why her brother was coming home.”

Shelby shook her head. “I can’t remember the last time I talked to Jake. But I do think the timing of his return looks a mite suspicious. And since Jake moved away from Austin, no one seems to know what he’s been doing. Not even his own family.”

Hope handed her a bill large enough to cover the sandwich and coffee. “Well, just because he’s a private person doesn’t necessarily make him a prime suspect as the baby’s father.”

Shelby’s laugh was deep and rich as she counted Hope’s change to her. “You’re no fun at all, Hope. You’re just too darn logical.”

On the drive home, Hope thought about Shelby’s comment. Maybe she had become too objective. Maybe she was looking at this baby issue between her and Drake in terms that were only black and white.

But what other terms were there? she wondered grimly. She wanted to try to have a baby again. He didn’t. As things stood, they were at a bitter stalemate. And she was beginning to doubt Stevie or anything else could break it.

Drake and Hope’s two-story brick home was located in a quiet, well-to-do neighborhood just a street over from Abby’s Western-style stucco.

Not too many months ago, Drake had hired a crew of carpenters and painters to give each room a facelift. The results had been beautiful, but Hope had liked the house just as well before. Deep down, she knew Drake’s motive for undertaking the expensive renovation had been to dim their memories and make it harder for both of them to remember the rooms as they’d been before they’d lost the baby. And their dreams for the future.

With a weary sigh, she headed the car onto the wide circular drive. At one end of the four-car garage, she stopped long enough to push the remote to lift the door. Not until she’d pulled inside did she notice the dark green car parked at the far end.

It was Drake’s! He was already here!

Snatching her keys and purse, she quickly went inside the house. The kitchen was dark and quiet, so she hurried to the living room, only to find it empty, also. Drake was not to be seen in the den or the study, either. That meant he had to be upstairs in one of the bedrooms.

Her footsteps were soundless on the carpeted stairs and along the dimly lit landing. Ahead, she could see a long shaft of light coming from an open door. Hope walked steadily toward it, a mix of emotions swirling through her.

It wasn’t until she had taken two steps inside the room that Drake sensed her presence. He looked away from the dresser drawer where he’d been placing his underwear.

“I see you finally made it home.”

Letting his remark slide, she took another step toward him. “What are you doing here, Drake?”

He straightened to his full height, one corner of his mouth cocking upward in the semblance of a grin. “What does it look like? I’m moving back in. That is what you asked me to do.”

Confusion wrinkled her forehead. “Yes. But—” She made a sweeping gesture with her arm. “This is my bedroom.”

Slowly his thumb and forefinger rubbed the arrogant jut of his chin. “No. You’ve got it wrong, Hope. This is our bedroom. And if you want me to stay in this house for the next four weeks, then that’s the way it’s going to be.”

Hope felt her slender body quiver with outrage. “You can’t be serious!”

“Have you ever seen me when I wasn’t?”

No, she thought. Drake was a man who rarely joked. He’d often been accused by his friends of being as sober as a judge. And oddly, his lack of frivolity had been the very thing that had first drawn Hope to him. After living with a mother who considered life one big joke, Drake’s seriousness had comforted her. After ten years of marriage, his inflexibility had driven a wedge between them.

Quick, angry steps carried her across the room to where he stood by the dresser. “Why are you doing this?” she asked tightly.

One brow lifted questioningly as he looked at her. “You asked me to come home. To make believe we still love each other. Didn’t you?”

“Yes! For Stevie’s sake! But that doesn’t mean—” She vigorously shook her head. “He’s only six and a half years old. He doesn’t know a husband and wife normally sleep together!”

Drake couldn’t stop a bitter sneer from spreading across his lips. Apparently Hope hadn’t considered that it would take more than just having him under the same roof to convince Stevie they were a happy family. As for himself, he hadn’t thought of their sleeping arrangements until the moment he’d stepped into the house.

“That’s where you’re mistaken, Hope. When I was his age I knew something was wrong because my friends’ parents had one bedroom, and mine had two. So if you want this little farce with Stevie to work, then you’re just going to have to endure me being in the same bed.”

Her hands began to tremble. “I can’t!”

He turned to the dresser drawer and picked up a stack of underwear. He could have told her it wasn’t going to be easy for him, either. Just the thought of her being that close was enough to cause his stomach to tighten and his palms to sweat.

“Then maybe we’d better forget this whole thing right now,” he muttered tightly. “I thought it was a stupid idea, anyway.”

Hope had never had the urge to do bodily harm to anyone in her life. But at this very moment she would have taken great pleasure in kicking him right in the shins.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” she accused. “To spite me.”

Did he want to spite her? Drake asked himself. For making demands on him that he couldn’t keep? For ruining everything precious and dear about their marriage? He didn’t like to think so. Nor did he want to believe he was simply trying to see if she still wanted him in a physical way. As far as he was concerned, their sleeping together was just another part of the make believe.

He looked at her over his shoulder. “Sleeping with your husband is that abhorrent to you? I can remember a time when you never wanted to be out of my arms.”

She suddenly had to swallow as the truth of his words brought sweet memories rushing through her mind. “I’m not the one who called a halt to our sex life. You did that, Drake.” She turned away from him and stared at the floor as pain threatened to swamp her. “Obviously your distaste for having a child with me is far greater than your desire to make love to me.”

Bitter anger rose in him, and he forced himself to bite back several curse words. She didn’t want to understand or see that the mere thought of her getting pregnant again filled him with desperate fear. And not just fear of losing the tiny life they would create. It was the thought of losing Hope he couldn’t bear to even contemplate. No. She didn’t want to acknowledge his feelings in the matter. It was easier for her to simply paint him the selfish villain.

“You don’t want to admit that you gave me no choice in the matter,” he accused her. “It was either sex without birth control or no sex at all.”

His words so infuriated Hope that she whirled on him. “For years you gave me no choice. Sex with absolutely no hope of ever having a baby! Don’t talk to me about choice or manipulation!”

Drake released a deep breath, then wearily pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is exactly the reason I moved out, Hope. You and I both know that. Ten minutes haven’t passed since I’ve come back, and it’s starting all over again.”

He was right, she thought sadly. But what had he expected her to do when she’d found him moving into her bedroom as though he had a right to? He is still your husband, Hope, a little voice reminded.

She sighed. “I’m sorry, Drake. I just…didn’t expect this.” She gestured to his personal things scattered around the bedroom. “I had planned on you using one of the guest rooms.”

His face like stone, he moved away from her and began to search through a leather duffel bag on the end of the bed. “But I’m not here as a guest, Hope. If we’re going to give the appearance of a real husband and wife, this is the way it needs to be.” He glanced at her, his green eyes unyielding. “Or would you rather I leave and we’ll call the whole thing off?”

It was too late to call it off. Stevie would be here in the morning. The boy needed all the male guidance he could get.

“No,” she said quietly. “I don’t want you to leave.”

He straightened away from the duffel bag and faced her. “If you’re worried about me wanting to resume our sexual relationship, that’s not what any of this is about. From what you told me earlier today, this is all for Stevie. Isn’t that right?”

She nodded as an empty ache began to fill her heart. Of course he wasn’t moving into their bedroom for sex. She’d been crazy to think, even for a second, that he’d changed his mind and wanted to make love to her again. This was his way of torturing her. He wanted to remind her over and over what she was giving up, what she was missing night after night. And there was nothing she could do about it until Stevie’s stay was over.

“You’re right,” she said, then raised her chin to a determined angle. “And it’s not as if we’ve never slept together before. I can manage, if you can.”

His gaze raked her slender curves. “I wouldn’t be here if I thought I couldn’t.”

She really ought to hate him, Hope thought. She really should want to walk out and never look back. But she’d never been able to kill the love she felt for this man. It had run too deep and for too long to die a quick death. There was still a part of her that wasn’t ready to give up on him or their marriage. Not yet.

“Good,” she said with forced ease. “Then neither of us should have a problem.”

He turned his attention to the duffel bag. “No problem at all.”

Not for him, at least, she thought ruefully. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your unpacking. Have you had anything to eat? There’s fresh bread and cold cuts.”

“I’ve already eaten. I’m fine.”

He didn’t want to be here. She had forced him into it. The fact shouldn’t be crushing her heart. After all, he’d chosen to live away from her for many weeks now. But she couldn’t help wishing things between them were so very different.

“I’ll be in the den,” she said, then hurried toward the door.

Before she could pass through it, he called her name and she glanced at him, an ache in her heart and a painful lump in her throat.

“I wanted to—” He stopped, then with a rueful shake of his head said, “Nothing. Forget it.”

Whatever had been on his mind, he wasn’t going to share it with her, Hope realized. Which wasn’t surprising. He’d quit sharing himself with her a long time ago.

“I understand this isn’t easy for you, Drake. But I do thank you for coming home. Very much.”

For a moment it looked as if Drake wanted to reach out to her, to draw her closer to him. But when he spoke, his voice was cool, almost businesslike.

“At the end of this month, we’ll see how much you really thank me, Hope.”

CHAPTER THREE

WHEN THE ALARM CLOCK sounded the next morning, Hope opened her eyes to find she was the sole occupant of the bed. But she didn’t need to see the indentation of the pillow next to her to know Drake had slept there. All through the night she’d been desperately aware of his hard, masculine body stretched out only inches away from her.

For hours she’d lain there staring into the darkness, remembering when their love had been full of fiery passion. He would have automatically reached for her or she for him. Hope had always been eager to give him pleasure, and she had to admit Drake had been more than a generous lover. Now he refused to touch her for fear of making her pregnant.

The thought renewed the deep ache that was always inside her these days, and she sighed as she reached out and touched his side of the bed. Last night she’d been afraid to sleep, afraid she would unconsciously creep into his arms. As a result, she’d dozed fitfully until the alarm clock had buzzed on the nightstand beside her.

Across the bedroom, to her right, the door to the bathroom was shut. The sound of the shower told her Drake was already getting ready for the day ahead. In the past, he would have lingered in bed, using what little time they had before work to be close to her. But that part of their life was over. She had to forget it and move on.

With a tired groan, she shoved her hair off her face and reached for her robe. She couldn’t survive a month of this, she thought as she groggily tied the sash at her waist. It would kill her.

In the kitchen, she discovered Drake had already made coffee. She quickly filled a mug, and after a heavy dollop of half-and-half took a grateful sip. Caffeine would have to sustain her through the day. And tonight…well, she would just have to forget her husband was lying beside her.

Hope was finishing her coffee when Drake entered the kitchen dressed in a dark suit, a white shirt checked with tiny black windowpanes and black Western boots. His light brown hair waved damply away from his broad forehead and his strong jaw shone with freshly applied aftershave. As he crossed to the coffeepot, the musky scent trailed to where she sat at the table.

She hadn’t realized having him back in the house was going to be so tempting. Or so painful.

“You’re early,” she said to him. “Stevie’s flight isn’t scheduled to arrive until nine-fifteen.”

He poured a mug full of coffee, then turned to her. As her eyes scanned his face, she decided he looked disgustingly rested. Obviously sleeping next to her hadn’t been the least bit distracting for him.

“I have some work in the study that I want to go over before we leave.”

“Oh.” She should have known he hadn’t put aside this morning exclusively for her or his little nephew.

He made a point of glancing at his wristwatch. “Will you be ready by eight-thirty?”

She nodded, then forced her attention to the bay window across one wall of the kitchen, which gave a view of the backyard. “I’ll come to the study when I finish dressing.”

“Fine,” he said, then left the room and Hope without a clue to what he was really thinking.

Upstairs, she made a point of dressing casually in jeans and a bright red sweater with a rhinestone candy cane pinned to one side. She didn’t want Stevie to view her as a starched and staid aunt whom he couldn’t get near for fear of ruining her clothing.

As for Drake, she supposed his tall, stern demeanor would seem formidable to most any child. But Hope knew that beneath his outward cool was a man capable of warmth and love. She could only wonder whether he would show Stevie that part of himself. As for ever showing any tender feelings toward her again, she’d given up on that months ago.

Less than an hour later they left the house with a minimum of conversation. The residential area was behind them and the morning rush-hour traffic buzzing on either side of them before Drake decided to break the somber silence.

“You’ve been very quiet this morning. Did you sleep last night?”

Hope glanced across the car seat to where his lanky body sat comfortably behind the wheel. His gaze was on the traffic ahead, yet even if she could have seen his eyes, she doubted she would have known what was on his mind. Drake had always been a man to keep his feelings hidden. Now that trouble had come to their marriage, he was even more of a closed book.

“Yes, I slept.” Drake didn’t need to know the sum total of her sleep had probably been less than an hour and that he’d been the sole reason for her miserable night. “I’ve been thinking. About Stevie.”

“What about him?”

Hope sighed, wishing her heart felt as bright as the morning. The gray clouds had cleared and sunshine spilled over the busy city streets of Austin. Maybe the sudden break in the weather was a good omen. She certainly needed one.

“I just wonder what he’ll think about us,” she answered. “The last time we saw him was nearly a year ago. Do you think he’ll remember us?”

Drake shrugged one shoulder. “Kids remember more than you think. It probably won’t matter much if he remembers us or not. I figure the boy is constantly being thrown on strangers. We’ll just be two more in his life.”

She grimaced as her gaze slid over his hard profile. “How can you be so callous? None of this means anything to you, does it?”

Even though they were traveling a busy thoroughfare, Drake shot her a look of disbelief. It wouldn’t do any good to explain to her that his comments had come from personal experience. That if he’d sounded callous, it was because he knew what it was like as a child to be dumped by your parents. Hope only wanted to believe that he disliked children. Even the thought of them in general. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

Biting back a sigh, he asked, “Then why am I driving you to the airport to meet Stevie? The clinic has been thrown into turmoil lately. All the bad publicity surrounding baby Cody has begun to hurt Maitland’s finances, and I’m the man responsible for the money that keeps everything running. It’s made hell out of my job. At this very moment I have urgent work waiting on my desk.”

Hope looked away from him before he could see the disappointment in her eyes. Work and money. She, more than anyone, understood how important those two things were. As a child, it had only been Hope and her mother. And Georgia had never understood the word responsibility. What little money her mother had made at waitressing or cleaning houses, she’d spent frivolously. And the men she’d married after Hope’s father had skipped out weren’t any better.

“I’m aware of all the trouble going on at the clinic.”

He cast her a sharp glance. “But that doesn’t mean anything to you?”

Hope bit her lower lip, wondering how things between them had gotten to this point. Their marriage had always been special. As the years passed, the two of them had grown closer rather than apart. They had rarely argued over anything. She realized the miscarriage had been as traumatic for Drake as it had been for her. But she’d managed to get past it. Drake, however, couldn’t seem to let go and move forward with her. The gap it had created between them had grown to mammoth proportions. He seemed to misinterpret her feelings, along with everything she said.

“Of course it means something to me,” she replied. “I understand you’re a busy man and that you made an extra effort to come with me this morning. And I’m grateful that you did. But I—get the feeling your heart isn’t in this.”

What heart? Drake wanted to ask her. The little that had survived losing the baby had been crushed by their separation. It amazed him that she thought he ought to be able to love and laugh and live as the two of them had before she’d talked him into the notion of having a child.

Long moments continued to pass as he negotiated the car through a lane of heavy traffic. Eventually, he said, “To hear you tell it, I don’t even have a heart.”

He was baiting her. Just as he’d been baiting her last night about their sleeping arrangement, and it suddenly dawned on Hope that he was doing it on purpose. He wanted to rile her to the point where she would send him packing. But she wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily.

“For Stevie’s sake, I hope I’m wrong,” she murmured.

Drake didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him. He knew he was behaving like a jackass, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. From the moment Hope had come to his office yesterday, he hadn’t been able to think about anything but her and this month ahead of them. It might be the last chance, the last time in his life to live with her. He had to make it right or he was going to lose her forever.

Last night in bed, Drake had lain there pretending to sleep while Hope had clung to her side of the bed, desperate to keep her distance from him. He’d never undergone so much agony, knowing her body was inches from his, yet her heart was far away. Drake could only wonder how many more nights he could continue like this before he cracked and reached for her. Or was forced to leave the bed entirely.

From the corner of his eye, he could see her face was still turned toward the passenger window. This morning her hair was brushed loose. The color of the silky strands reminded him of a jar of honey lit with warm sunlight. If he were closer, he knew it would smell like lilac or lily of the valley. She only wore the fragrance of a single flower, and he’d often told her he liked her best when she was wearing nothing but the scent of a rose.

Drake cleared his throat and tried to shake the erotic vision from his thoughts. After a moment he said, “Whatever you might be thinking, Hope, I don’t want my sister’s kid to be hurt any more than he already has been. But for all we know he might have turned into a little tyrant since we last saw him. I could hardly blame the boy if he has.”

Surprised by his admission, she turned her gaze to him. “From what you’ve told me about your growing-up years, your parents weren’t any better than Denise and Phillip. Did you behave like a little tyrant?”

A dry laugh escaped from him. “No. But I wish I had. I should have dealt them as much misery as they dealt me.”

Her eyes scanned his face, and the bitterness she saw there was like a cold hand clamped around her throat. Drake had never tried to hide the resentment he’d felt for his parents. Even before she and Drake were married, Hope had realized he wasn’t close to either his mother or father. In fact, she didn’t meet the Logans at all until it was nearly time for the wedding. And then she hadn’t been impressed. Harris and Lilah had both been pompous and self-absorbed. The couple had made it easy for Hope to see that Drake had grown up feeling unloved and unwanted.

After the meeting with her in-laws, Hope had vowed to make up for Drake’s parents’ lack of affection. And throughout the years of her marriage, she’d tried to show her love in a million different ways. But it had obviously not been enough to take away his bitterness.

“You can’t forgive them, can you?”

His brows lifted ever so slightly as he glanced at her. “No. And I doubt I ever will.”

ONCE INSIDE the busy Robert Mueller Airport, the two of them located the correct airline gate and took a seat to wait for the flight from Dallas to arrive. Drake said very little and Hope didn’t push him for conversation. As each minute ticked away she was becoming increasingly nervous about meeting Stevie. What if he had become a little tyrant as Drake had suggested? She might not be able to handle him and then the whole household would be in an uproar. Drake would be only too happy to point out another reason they shouldn’t try again for a child of their own, and this whole thing would backfire in her face.

But the moment the passengers began to come through the gate and she spotted Stevie, escorted by a flight attendant, her worries were instantly forgotten.

“There he is, Drake!” Jumping to her feet, she unconsciously reached for his hand, then, as though realizing she shouldn’t be touching him, her hand fell to her side and she stepped back. “We’d better let the flight attendant know we’re here,” she added soberly.

Rising from the chair, Drake deliberately curled his arm around the back of her waist and gave her a brief smile. “We’re supposed to be a loving married couple meeting our little nephew, remember?”

Hope wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or sincere, but at this moment she didn’t care. She desperately needed the extra support his touch lent her.

It took them a few moments to weave their way through the dispersing passengers to the information desk where the flight attendant and Stevie stood waiting. After a brief exchange of necessary information, the woman smiled at Stevie, who continued to cling to her hand. “Well, it looks like everything is in order, so I’m going to put my little passenger in your care now.”

The attendant said her goodbyes to all three of them, then turned to head through the terminal gate. Seeing the lost look on Stevie’s face, Hope quickly kneeled to the boy’s level.

He was pretty much as she remembered. A bit taller, but she couldn’t see that he’d picked up any weight. He was thin and frail, and his complexion reminded her of a child who’d been convalescing from a long illness. Toffee-brown hair fell in a straight bang onto his forehead and freckles dotted his nose. Big brown woeful eyes glanced cautiously from one adult to the other.

“I’m your aunt Hope, Stevie. Do you remember me?”

His eyes were suspicious as they traveled over Hope’s face for long moments. Eventually, he nodded in reply.

Hope smiled with relief. “I’m happy you’ve come to stay with us for a few days. Do you remember Uncle Drake?”

Beside her, Drake reached down and shook the child’s hand as though he were a business associate. “Hello, young man.”

Tilting his head way back, Stevie looked up at Drake, and much to Hope’s surprise, a glimmer of trust replaced the doubt in the child’s eyes.

“Hello, sir.”

Drake’s chest grew suddenly tight as he looked at Stevie’s solemn face. “I guess you’re a little bit scared right now,” he said.

Stevie nodded awkwardly and his gaze vacillated between Hope and Drake.

“Well, I don’t blame you,” Drake told him. “I would be, too.”

Hope darted a frantic look at Drake. What was he trying to do, scare the child even more? But before she could worry, Stevie stepped forward and slipped his hand into Drake’s.

“Can we go now?” he asked.

With a faint lift to his brows, Drake glanced at Hope. From his expression she could see he was just as surprised by Stevie’s reaction to him as she was.

“First we have to get your baggage and then we’ll go home,” Drake promised the child.

By the time the three of them made their way to the baggage area, Stevie’s luggage was already on the carousel. Drake picked up the large suitcase, then once again reached for Stevie’s hand.

As they headed toward an exit, Hope said to Drake, “You might need to slow down just a bit. Stevie’s legs aren’t quite as long as yours.”

He glanced down to see Stevie trotting alongside to keep up with his pace. “Oh. I wasn’t thinking,” he said.

Hope smiled to herself as she watched her husband slow his gait to match the child’s. Maybe the good weather this morning was an omen, she thought brightly. Right now, seeing Drake holding on to Stevie’s little hand was far more than she’d expected.

In the parking lot, Hope buckled the child into the back seat while Drake stowed the luggage in the trunk. On the drive home, Stevie sat straight and rigid and spoke only when Hope or Drake directed a question at him. Otherwise, his brown eyes stared unblinkingly at the view beyond the passenger window.

Once they arrived home, Hope took Stevie to the bedroom directly across the hall from hers and Drake’s. Over the past week, she’d worked at night to change the room into something more suitable for a child. The spread and curtains were printed with cowboys and horses. At the foot of the bed, a wooden crate painted bright red and yellow was filled with various toys that were inexpensive, but favorites of most children. On the wall, she’d pinned Looney Tunes posters and several glossy pictures of kittens and puppies.

“This is going to be your room while you’re here,” she told Stevie. “Does it look okay?”

The boy’s head jerked up and down before turning to watch Drake enter with his suitcase. Once again, Hope noticed Stevie’s dark eyes flicker with interest. Maybe Denise had been right when she’d said the boy was starved for male attention. He was certainly drawn to Drake for some reason.

Drake deposited the suitcase on the bed, then glanced with interest at the change in the room. As his features grew rock smooth, Hope knew the decor was taking him back to the bright colorful nursery the two of them had prepared in the bedroom next to this one. As her pregnancy had advanced, Drake had added more and more to the room until it was stuffed with teddy bears, baseball caps and gloves, stacks of little books and a chest of Tonka toys. Once he’d finally gotten used to the idea of her being pregnant, he’d wanted a son so badly. But then so had she.

“When did you do this?”

Swallowing the tightness in her throat, she said, “The past few nights I’ve been working on it. I wanted Stevie to feel comfortable.” She turned her gaze on the child, who was clearly absorbed by the sight of the bedspread. Apparently he’d never seen anything like it. “Stevie, would you like to change clothes now?”

He looked at her with a hint of defiance. “Do I have to go to bed?”

Hope darted Drake a puzzled glance before she knelt in front of the boy. “Why, no, Stevie. You’re not feeling sick, are you?”

Glumly, Stevie’s head swung back and forth. “No. But sometimes my mommy makes me go to bed.”

Drake stepped forward to join the two of them, and even though he didn’t appear outwardly angry, Hope could tell from the tight clamp of his jaw that he was furious at the information Stevie had just given them.

“Stevie, no one around here goes to bed unless it’s bedtime. So while you’re here you forget about what your mommy made you do at home. Do you understand?”

The boy looked at Drake as though he couldn’t quite believe him. Yet he nodded in compliance.

Hope straightened to her full height and zipped open the suitcase Drake had placed on the bed. “Let’s find you some jeans and a sweatshirt to change into and then you can come down to the kitchen and I’ll make us some cocoa. How does that sound?” she asked the boy.

Ducking his little chin, he mumbled, “I don’t have jeans or a sweatshirt. Can I come to the kitchen anyway?”

“Dear God,” Drake muttered, clearly unable to keep from expressing his anger. “Right now it would give me a great measure of joy to ring my sister’s neck.”

Hope turned from her husband’s disgusted face to Stevie’s lost one. She wanted to take the child in her arms and hold him tightly. She wanted to kiss his pale cheek and tug at his chin. But it was too early to try to smother him with physical affection, and she somehow doubted a hug was enough to make this troubled child smile.

Instead, she said, “Of course you may come to the kitchen. I’ll see what I can find you to wear, and then later on today, the two of us will go shopping.”

“Will he go with us?” Stevie asked about Drake.

Hope didn’t bother to ask Drake if he wanted to join the shopping excursion. He’d already made it clear he was losing valuable work time.

Shaking her head, she said to Stevie, “Drake won’t be going with us. He has to work. But he might drink hot chocolate with us before he leaves.”

She glanced at Drake, who’d gone to stand near the window. Grim-faced, he pulled his attention away from his nephew long enough to give her a nod, then quickly left the room.

With Drake downstairs, Hope turned her attention to unpacking Stevie’s suitcase. There were stacks of dress trousers and crisply ironed shirts, but nothing close to jeans or any sort of play wear. Apparently the child was always dressed like a little businessman.

Eventually, at the very bottom of the case, she discovered a pair of khaki trousers and a navy blue lambswool sweater. She placed the clothing on the bed.

“Change into these, Stevie. I’ll be back up to get you in just a few minutes.”

The only response the boy gave her was one wary nod. Deciding it was far too early to try for more conversation, Hope left the room and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

She found Drake already there, standing in front of the bay window. He appeared to be watching the cardinals and blue jays vie for the bird feeder that was nestled in the crook of a twisted juniper branch. Yet Hope seriously doubted his mind was on the birds. Stevie’s arrival had disturbed him. That much was obvious. What she didn’t know was whether it had been in a good or bad way.

“I managed to find a pair of khakis and a sweater for Stevie to change into. I’ll go get him in a few minutes.”

Drake glanced over his shoulder at her. “What do you think about Stevie?”

His question surprised Hope. She didn’t think her opinion mattered much to him anymore. Especially her opinion of a child.

“I—to be honest with you, I’ve never been around a child quite like him. He’s so serious. He hasn’t once smiled since we picked him up at the airport.”

“I don’t expect smiling comes easy for the boy,” Drake said. Looking at Stevie was like seeing himself thirty years ago, and it was more than a little unsettling. He hadn’t expected to feel much toward the child. After all, he could count on one hand the times he’d seen him since he was born. Stevie was Denise’s offspring. Not his own. And yet it troubled him to think the boy was being raised in the same isolated way he had.

“Do you think he’s been ill?” Hope asked.

Drake’s brow puckered into a frown. “I don’t know. Why? Do you think he’s sick?”

Hope shook her head as she placed a saucepan on the gas range. “No. But I wonder if he has been ill in the past. He’s so pale and thin. He looks as though he rarely eats.”

Drake grimaced. “I doubt anyone is ever around to see that the child eats properly.”

“Aren’t there people at the boarding school to see to things like that?” Hope asked. “I mean, children have other needs besides academics.”

He walked across the room and leaned against the cabinet counter a few small steps away from her. “Now you can see what it does to children when adults can’t be parents. Denise is a poor excuse for a parent. And I’m her brother. Hell, I must have been crazy to ever think I could be different from her—from our own parents. Maybe that’s why—”

She glanced at him sharply. His face was tight, his eyes dark with shadows. “Why what?” she prompted.

Jamming his fists into his trouser pockets, he looked away from her. “Maybe that’s why…you had the miscarriage. Fate was trying to tell me I wasn’t emotionally set up for the job.”

So Abby had been right on one score, Hope thought. Having Stevie in the house was reminding Drake of their lost child. But there would always be reminders. She couldn’t shield him from them any more than she could protect herself from all those painful memories.

Pulling a jug of milk from the refrigerator, she poured a hefty amount into the saucepan. “That’s what you want to think.” She spoke quietly as she worked. “It makes it easier for you to justify your decision not to try for another child.”

Drake didn’t want to argue with her. Far from it. This was the first time in weeks he could remember them being together like this, and it brought back all the things about their marriage that he’d held dear. She had always gone out of her way to do little things for him. Like cooking his favorite meals, wearing a dress he especially liked on her, playing the music he enjoyed and making sure the remote to the TV was where it should be. And the hell of it was, he’d never taken her devotion to him for granted. In his own way, he’d tried to do equally for her.

But once Drake had refused to try to have another baby, everything good and special between them had dwindled. Until finally they had become two people married in name only.

His gaze was faintly accusing when he turned it to her. “You’ve always wanted to ignore my family and pretend that part of my life doesn’t matter.”

Hope had heard this argument from him before, but for some reason this morning, it grated on her more than ever. “What is that supposed to mean? I’ve never ignored your family. Remember I’m the one who offered to help your sister out by keeping Stevie.”

“I’m not talking about that sort of ignoring. I’m talking about the fact that Denise and I aren’t cut out to be parents. We never had any ourselves! But you want to think I can just skip over all that and become father of the year without any sort of background training.”

A weary sigh slipped past her lips. “You’re hardly an ignorant man, Drake. No one is born knowing how to be a parent. Everyone has to learn.”

Groaning, he lifted his face toward the ceiling. “That’s true. But you have to have someone to learn from. And I’ve decided it’s just not in me, Hope. A person has to be special inside to be a parent. It’s pretty obvious that Denise sure as hell doesn’t have what it takes. And I’m not about to risk a child’s happiness by trying to find out whether I do!”

That he would choose this morning to cut into her, when she needed him more than ever, caused something inside Hope to snap.

With slow deliberation, she turned away from the heating milk to face him. “All right, Drake,” she said, careful to keep her voice low. “You win. You’re not ever going to be a father. You don’t want to try to have a child with me. I read you loud and clear and I accept your decision. So you don’t have to keep pointing that out. While you’re here this month, I won’t bring up the subject to you anymore. And I hope you’ll have the decency to do the same.”

The fierce resolution in her voice stunned Drake. Since he’d moved out of the house, he’d almost resigned himself to the fact that he was losing her. But to hear her speak the words sent a chill right through to his bones.

“And what about after this month is over and Stevie is gone?” he asked stiffly.

Hope couldn’t let him know there were tears clawing at the back of her eyes. She was through letting him see just how much pain he was causing. She was finished with the arguing and cajoling.

“I’m going to move on with my life, Drake. With or without you.”

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