Their Precious Christmas Miracle: Mistletoe Baby / In the Spirit of...Christmas / A Baby By Christmas. Tanya Michaels
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on the sidewalk. “I was just thinking about you,” she blurted. She glanced at the silver-wrapped package in his hands. “I mean, about the fact that you were bringing the present.”
A lot of people, herself included, relied on cute gift bags. Not David. He hand-wrapped everything with precision corners and perfectly coordinated ribbons.
Out of nowhere, a burble of laughter escaped her. “It’s a good thing you’re so secure in your masculinity.”
“Less secure by the hour.” He fell in step with her, but remained on the street since their open umbrellas didn’t allow for their walking abreast on the sidewalk. “Just earlier today, I was shot down by a beautiful woman.”
Beautiful? Not sure how to respond, she concentrated on getting out of the rain quickly.
Rachel tried not to think about how many women in town would line up to console him once their separation was public knowledge. Ladies had sought her out at council meetings and softball games to tell her just how lucky she was. A few of them had sounded a bit jealous, miffed that one of Mistletoe’s most eligible bachelors had chosen an outsider, but most had simply been sincere. She thought again of how she would miss the people when she left, what Mistletoe had meant to her when she first visited.
My sanctuary. She’d come to this quaint town on vacation, after her dad had been released from the hospital. She’d worried that he was working himself to death … and was disturbed by the possibility that she was headed down the same sixty-hour-a-week path in a career she’d never consciously sought. She’d always let whatever classes she was getting the highest grades in determine her course, shaping her major and eventually her internship with a marketing firm in Columbia. But there’d never been a moment when she’d sat down, thought it out, and said, “Aha! This is what I want to be when I grow up.”
So she’d taken some personal time from work, hiking in North Georgia, taking scads of pictures and letting herself be charmed by small-town citizens. One in particular. She’d warned David that her time here was temporary and that she wasn’t interested in a brief fling, yet she’d dated him anyway. Guided by his vision of the future, she’d suddenly been able to see what she wanted, her nebulous plans crystallized into brilliant focus. David had made it seem so matter-of-fact; she would move here, be with him. They would raise a family and be deliriously happy, end of story. For a woman who had always obligingly gone with the flow, pleasing people around her and ignoring any selfish impulses, it had been intoxicating to consider such a bold move. After a few months of long-distance dating, they’d wound up engaged and she’d moved here exactly as he’d outlined. For a little while, they had been deliriously happy.
Now that they were apart, she’d known she couldn’t bear to stay in Mistletoe. It was too small—there wasn’t enough room for her, her ex and five years of accumulated memories. But then, she hadn’t counted on parenting from two different zip codes. She had to figure out a life plan that was good for their baby without jeopardizing her own sanity or further damaging her heart. David had had a point this morning; the pregnancy did change things. She just had to figure out which things and how much.
Turning, she headed up the sidewalk, glad that she and David were arriving together so that she didn’t babble through another explanation of why they’d taken two separate cars. Sandra opened the door, calling out a cheerful hello. As they stepped inside the two-story stone-and-wood house, each wiping their feet on the entry mat, Sandra looked back out the glass door.
“Heck of a day we picked to have a party, huh?”
Rachel handed over her tray of sandwiches. “At least you weren’t planning to do this in the backyard.”
“I’ve cooked out in worse weather,” her husband, Pat, said as he came into the foyer to greet them.
Rolling her eyes, Sandra laughed. “My husband thinks of barbecuing as an extreme sport.”
Pat mock-glared. “Never heard you complain while eating my award-winning brisket.” He reached out and squeezed her shoulder, both of them grinning.
Rachel’s throat constricted—it was just the teasing byplay of two people in love who were comfortable with each other, but it was easy to take for granted until you lost it. She and David hadn’t been comfortable in months; they’d become as hard and fragile as peanut brittle.
“Rachel, David.” Lilah appeared in the archway behind their hosts. “You guys made it! We’re just waiting on Amy and Steve.”
Steve played on Tanner’s softball team, and his wife, Amy, worked in the administration office of the elementary school. Gathered inside the Donavans’ living room already were Lilah’s aunt Shelby and uncle Ray, Vonda Kerrigan and her white-haired boyfriend Peter Joel and Quinn and Ari, who’d jokingly agreed to be each other’s dates since neither of them was currently seeing anyone special. Susan and Zachariah Waide had also been invited, but they were working at the store so their children could all attend. The Christmas season was the busiest time of year in retail.
The party kicked off the way most did in Mistletoe, with small talk while the guests piled their plates with food.
“You sit down. I’ll bring you something,” David instructed Rachel, gesturing toward the mismatched furniture. The Donavans had an adjoining dining room and living room that worked to create one large space; obviously they’d dragged chairs and even a love seat from other areas to accommodate the large number of guests.
She took a spot on a padded bench next to Arianne. The two of them were chatting about some upcoming holiday movies when Rachel realized her husband had returned.
“Thank y— Good heavens.” Rachel stared, trying to decide if this was his idea of a joke.
Even Arianne blinked. “Is that for Rachel and I to share? She can’t possibly eat all that.”
David glanced at the plate that was threatening to bow under the weight of the food he’d heaped on it. “It’s not that … Okay, maybe I got carried away. But—”
“But what?” Arianne asked.
But I’m eating for two now? Was that what David had been thinking? A silly old-time cliché that was hardly applicable in her case since the baby was probably the size of a small lima bean. The baby. Rachel found herself grinning foolishly. Lima bean or not, it was still her baby.
“Rach? David? One of you going to tell me why you’re behaving so strangely?”
“Nothing strange,” Rachel said, her voice breathy. Miraculous, wondrous, unexpected, but not strange. “I just … haven’t had a chance to eat today. Got caught up in that special scrapbooking project, and David’s trying to look out for me.”
“Which my wife,” David intoned, “does not always have the good sense to appreciate.”
She shot him a warning look. “Maybe I’d appreciate it if you trusted me to look out for myself. I might even appreciate looking out for someone else, not that you ever seem to need it.”
He frowned, bemused. “So, what, you’re upset that I’m self-sufficient and successful? I thought women looked for stuff like that in mates. I married a crazy woman.”
“Ummm.” Arianne stood. “I think I’m just gonna go hang out with Vonda.” She crossed the room to where the feisty septuagenarian was entertaining people with tall tales about her father and uncles trying unsuccessfully to brew their own alcohol during Prohibition.
Gesturing toward the spot his sister had just vacated and looking somewhat abashed, David asked, “Mind if I sit there?”
A little, but it wasn’t as if she could make him sit on the floor without it appearing weird. Then again, he’d just called her crazy so maybe she was entitled. “Suit yourself.” They still had a number of prenuptial festivities, a family Christmas and the wedding itself to get through—she could be mature about this. Even if being so close to David exasperated her, aroused her and made her want to cry all at the same time.