One

      Her slim shoulders hunched against the biting wind, Carrie Loving plodded through the black December night with only the beam of a flashlight to guide her. She was trying to reach her rented cottage on Ohio’s beautiful Lake Prince John, but her car had skidded into a ditch half a mile from her destination. She’d stepped out into the icy waters of the half-frozen ditch and her ankle boots squished with each step.

      The small duffle bag she carried contained a change of clothes and toiletries, but no dry shoes. Shivering, she pushed strands of damp, red hair back into her parka. Maybe leaving the car was foolish, she thought. But there wasn’t anything else she could do. She’d been warned that the cluster of cottages comprising the Blue Heron Fishing Camp was deserted this close to Christmas. That didn’t bother her; she was twenty-eight, not some young twit who jumped at shadows, she told herself stoutly. After months of emotional turmoil, the promise of peace and quiet helped soothe the misgivings she had about coming here.

      The flashlight beam wobbled as a wave of dizziness threatened her balance. Carrie grabbed an overhanging limb to steady herself. She was freezing, yet inside, she felt on fire. Her green eyes ran hot with tears. That damn flu, she thought furiously, it’s come back. And I’m stranded out here in the middle of nowhere!

      “Oh God,” she whispered, assailed by fear and doubt. She was divorced, alone, and nearly four months pregnant.

      The dizziness passed. Carefully releasing her supportive tree limb, she started walking again, her gaze glued to the compellant little world of the flashlight’s beam. She ignored the nausea spiraling through her like a miniature whirlwind. She’d already discovered that morning sickness could strike at any time.

      In a few short months she’d be a parent. A single parent.

      Carrie acknowledged her fear of caring for a baby alone. But the baby mustn’t know it. A baby must have complete confidence in its mother. “Don’t worry, my love,” she murmured, spreading a gloved hand over the quilted fabric covering her stomach. “I’ll take care of us.”

      As if mocking her brave assertion, another wave of dizziness hit her. She waited it out, then slowly began moving again. According to her directions, the road followed the perimeter of the lake, with