The Christmas Wedding Quilt. Sarah Mayberry

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The Christmas Wedding Quilt - Sarah  Mayberry


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pink signs down the empty hallway. At the far end he could see a small group of people going two by two into one of the rooms. Slightly apart from the rest stood a woman with her back to Mac. She was wearing red and her hair was a tangle of dark honey.

      Megan.

      As he walked quickly toward her, his footsteps echoing in the hall, she turned around. Some part of Mac’s brain noticed that she was attractive despite her serious expression. The rest of him was too busy staring at the bulge beneath her red blouse. She was a lot farther along than he’d imagined, her body swollen with his child.

      His child.

      The enormity of it drove the air out of him like a hard fist to the gut. He faltered, his legs suddenly shaky, knowing he was gawking but unable to stop. Somehow hearing about the baby’s existence hadn’t even begun to prepare him for the visual.

      “Are you Mac?” Her voice was low, betraying nothing, but her hands were linked in front of her, fingers poker straight. He wasn’t the only nervous one here.

      The other people had already gone inside, leaving him and this woman alone in the hall.

      “Yeah, I’m Mac Duncan,” he croaked. “And you’re Megan. Hi.”

      He must have sounded normal enough to appease her. After a barely perceptible hesitation, she stuck out her hand. Her full mouth relaxed its pinched expression as she studied him, but when he touched her fingers, they were icy cold.

      Wanting to stare at the evidence of her pregnancy, he forced himself instead to focus on her face. Her cheeks were gently flushed and her eyes were hazel. He must have looked as dazed as he felt, because a tiny crease appeared between her brows.

      “Hi,” she echoed. “I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind.”

      Vaguely he remembered the time. “I’d hoped to be here a few minutes early,” he said apologetically, “but the Denver airport’s a mess. It’s snowing there.”

      She looked surprised. “Well, at least you’re here now.”

      Feeling awkward, Mac ran a hand through his short brown hair. It was probably standing on end. He’d meant to shave in the car, but his razor was packed and he hadn’t wanted to take the time to pull over and dig it out. Some impression he must make—running late, with rumpled clothes and a five o’clock shadow.

      Megan, on the other hand, looked neat and pretty despite her extremely rounded figure. Mac hadn’t thought to ask on the phone when she was due. “How far along are you?” he blurted.

      The blush on her cheeks deepened as she plucked at her blouse. He hadn’t meant to embarrass her. Good manners had been drilled into him at an early age, but he had no idea what the protocol was for this particular situation.

      “I’m due a month from yesterday,” she replied with a gesture toward the open door. “I think we’d probably better go in.”

      From the expression on Mac Duncan’s attractive face, Megan could see that her appearance had been a shock. Had he expected her to be prettier, younger or just thinner? Was he disappointed? The way he’d gaped at her stomach made Megan feel as though she were carrying quintuplets in a wheelbarrow.

      Too bad, because he made her wish, just for a moment, that she was available and unencumbered. He was a very attractive man. No doubt the hot flash that engulfed her had more to do with her hormone level than his great cheekbones or his sexy mouth, but having a child who looked like him would be no great hardship.

      The rest of the class was waiting for them. As soon as Mac followed her inside, the instructor shut the door behind them.

      “Welcome to ‘We’re Having a Baby,”’ the woman said with a smile as Megan hurried over to a couple of empty chairs at the edge of the group, near a pile of mats and pillows. Her footsteps echoed loudly on the vinyl floor. Being the center of attention always made her uncomfortable.

      “I’m Dr. Claire Davis,” the instructor continued, “and from the number of maternity outfits I see, you all appear to be in the right place.”

      The five other women and their partners chuckled appreciatively while Mac sat down next to Megan.

      “I’m a pediatrician here at the clinic,” the doctor continued. She was a slim, pretty woman with dark red hair, blue eyes and a warm smile. Megan wondered if Mac found Dr. Davis attractive. “Several of us on the medical staff are assigned to these classes on a rotating schedule.” She picked up a clipboard and glanced at it. “I’ll be your instructor for the next six weeks and we’ll all be working together closely, so please call me Claire. Now it’s your turn to introduce yourselves. Tell us whatever you’d like everyone to know.” She glanced at Mac and Megan. “Let’s start with you.”

      Wondering if anyone else here had gone the artificial insemination route, Megan stood up and gave her name. As she glanced at the others, all paired off and smiling, she felt like the only girl at the dance without a date.

      “And who’s this with you?” the doctor prompted gently.

      Megan glanced at the man standing beside her, but her mind went blank. Someone giggled. He shifted closer, his hand curling warmly around hers.

      “I guess she’s forgotten,” he teased, the twinkle in his eyes taking away any possible sting as a smile tugged at his mouth. “You’d think we just met.”

      Megan stiffened. Was he going to pretend that they, too, were a couple, or spill the beans and humiliate her?

      His dark eyes seemed to say “trust me.” Fingers laced with hers, he introduced himself to the group. “We live right here in town,” he added.

      She knew he was only playing a role, but for the first time since she’d made her decision to have this child, she felt like part of a team. This time when he grinned at her, she managed to smile back at him.

      “Are you the father?” asked a girl who looked barely old enough to be pregnant.

      “Let’s not ask personal questions,” the doctor interjected. “We’ll volunteer what we’d like the group to know.” She glanced back at Mac and Megan, but neither spoke again.

      Megan wondered if anyone could tell that they barely knew each other. She certainly wasn’t ashamed of the method she had used to become pregnant, but neither was she eager to justify herself to a room full of happy couples.

      “Well, thank you,” the doctor said after a moment. “We have a lot of material to cover tonight, so let’s move on.”

      The two of them sat back down and Megan disentangled herself from Mac’s grip. “Thanks,” she murmured. “I’m not usually so inept.”

      “No problem.” He shifted slightly away from her. Apparently she’d been right that his show of unity had been just that, an act for the others. Wasn’t that what she wanted—her independence? Before she could sort through her feelings, another couple, both wearing rings, stood up and began talking excitedly.

      There were a dozen people in all, including a mother and daughter, another pair who appeared to be platonic friends, a man and woman who kept touching each other and exchanging smoldering glances, and two married couples each having their first baby. None of the other women were as big as Megan.

      Glancing at the wall clock, Claire explained what they would be covering in class. “Tonight we’re going to talk about breathing and relaxation techniques to use during labor and delivery. We’ll spread out the mats and go over a few simple positions that will keep you comfortable as your pregnancies progress,” she said. “While you’re practicing, I’ll discuss your baby’s development.” She pulled down a chart that showed the stages of the fetus’s growth in living color.

      Megan didn’t look at Mac, but she wondered whether he was having second thoughts yet. The huge colored photographs had to be more than he’d bargained for.

      “Next time we’ll tour the labor ward,” Claire


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