The New Baby. Brenda Mott
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“When was the last time you played on a swing?”
Amanda laughed in spite of herself. “I don’t know. Longer ago than I care to think about.”
Before she could protest, Ian pulled the swing backward, lifting her feet off the ground. Her stomach gave a sharp jump at the sudden motion, and she tightened her hands on the chains, letting out a little yelp.
Joyful anticipation rose within her as the swing arched backward once more and Ian’s hands came firmly in contact with her back, sending her skyward. When the swing hit a point so high it bounced on the chains, Ian gripped her waist as she came back down.
“Whoa!” Ian slipped his arm around her, lost his balanced and pulled her off the swing. The two of them tumbled to the ground.
Amanda froze, realizing what an intimate position they were in. Ian smelled wonderful, looked even better and she didn’t want to let go or get up.
Dear Reader,
Did you ever wish you could outrun your troubles and start your life over in a brand-new place with brand-new people? Sort of a “do over” as Mitch and Phil said in the movie City Slickers. That is precisely what Amanda Kelly decides to do when a tragic accident turns her life upside down. She leaves Colorado, tucks herself away in her granny’s log cabin in the woods of east Tennessee and loses herself in her work as an R.N. at the local nursing home. It doesn’t take long for her to become attached to one of her residents—Zebadiah Bonner. At eighty-seven, Zeb’s mind is still sharp, his sense of humor fully intact. But most of all, Zeb is a romantic at heart, and he’s determined to see his grandson, Ian, find the right woman. Zeb’s pretty sure that woman is Amanda. Now, if he can just get her and Ian to see things his way, he might have a chance to become a great-grandfather.
Ian is haunted by his own ghosts, and while he finds himself falling for Amanda, he’s not so sure she’s the woman for him. Still, he longs to get to know her better. Why is she hiding in the hills of Tennessee? And what will it take to draw her away from her self-imposed sentence of seclusion? Amanda is captivated by Ian’s sexy Southern drawl and the fact that he’s a man with a big heart. But his way of thinking has her running scared. Come with me, dear reader, on the journey that Ian and Amanda take. I hope you’ll find it pleasant, and that you’ll smile a little at the creative license I’ve taken in writing of the activities in the lives of the senior residents of Shade Tree Manor. Both the nursing home and the town of Boone’s Crossing are purely figments of my imagination.
I love hearing from my readers. You can e-mail me at [email protected]. Please reference the book on the subject line. Thank you, and happy reading!
Brenda Mott
The New Baby
Brenda Mott
This book is dedicated to my dad, who is my brainstorming partner and knight in shining armor. And to my mom, who calls me her rodeo queen and believes I can do anything. I love you.
With special acknowledgment to the health care professionals, law enforcement officials and women who have been in Amanda’s shoes who all gave generously of their time to answer my many questions. Any errors are my own.
Contents
PROLOGUE
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
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
EPILOGUE
PROLOGUE
AMANDA KELLY AWOKE in excruciating pain. Overhead, bright lights invaded her vision even before her eyelids fluttered open, creating a dizzying pattern of flashing dots. She blinked and tried to focus as the sounds of the hospital emergency room flooded her ears.
“What’s her BP?”
“BR 90 over 50, pulse 140…”
The rapid-fire words slipped through her mind like water. She tried to move, but her arms were too heavy. Weighted down. Her neck…her head…anchored in place. Panic seized her as she struggled with the oxygen mask fitted over her face. She wanted it off.
The voices assaulted her once more. Clearer this time.
“Start a large bore IV. We’ve got to get some blood right away.”
“Eighteen gauge started—we’re waiting on blood bank.”
“We can’t wait for type and cross, give her some O.”
Beneath her, the gurney moved like a go-cart, making her stomach churn, increasing the dizziness. Strange faces were above her, examining her.
“She’s pregnant? Shit! Get an obstetrician in here now!”
“Hang in there, Amanda. We’re going to take good care of you.”
“Has anyone contacted her family?”
She tried to speak. Couldn’t. Her mind was wrapped in cotton.
Her eyes, so heavy. She closed them.
Amanda awoke later, with no concept of how much time had passed. The hospital room seemed cold, sterile—too white, like the lights that had flooded her senses earlier. A monitor bleeped beside the bed. Clear plastic tubing snaked from her wrist to the IV drip above her.
Amanda swallowed as her sister’s face came into focus. Tear-streaked, pinched with pain. Lips trembling.
“Amanda.” Nikki reached for her hand.
“Nikki?” Amanda’s heart leaped then plunged as anxiety seized her. The memories came back in a rush.
A mountain road.
The young girl, standing on the gravel shoulder, her tire flat.
In her mind, Amanda pulled over to offer help. The use of her cell phone. She recalled reaching for the seat belt that cradled her rounded stomach, undoing the buckle. Then the squeal of tires and the gunshot-like sound of the SUV slamming into her Chevy Blazer from behind.
Dread now pushed all other thoughts from her mind as she reached instinctively to slide her hand over her stomach. Her throat closed and tears burned the back of her eyes. Her belly, once round, full with child, was now deflated like an empty balloon.
Her throat constricted as she choked on a sob. “No-o.”
The devastation on her sister’s face was enough to confirm what she already knew. She squeezed her eyes closed as Nikki gripped her hand. Willing it to not be true.
But the baby was gone.
The baby she’d carried as surrogate for her sister.
CHAPTER ONE
THE MOUNTAINS OF TENNESSEE weren’t as tall and rugged as Colorado’s Rocky Mountains, but they were equally beautiful in Amanda’s