Mistletoe Baby

by Tanya Michaels

  He blinked. “That’s uncannily like what I said to you when…”

  When she’d told him she thought she should leave. He’d looked startled, then relieved, then almost coolly calculating as he’d explained why they shouldn’t tell anyone yet. She hadn’t thought that far ahead, merely trying to survive the moment.

  She squared her shoulders, redirecting the conversation. “I know they have reputations as friendly gossips, but I don’t think May or Mindy will say anything yet. At least, not anything they can back up with fact. May promised to drop the subject. I’m sure something will happen in the next day or so that’s more interesting than seeing me in the pregnancy-test aisle. Without anything further to fan the flames, Mindy will probably let it go.”

  “You mean without incidents like me sending you ill-advised flowers?” His smile was rueful.

  She softened. “They were beautiful.”

  “So are you.”

  “You can’t say things like that!”

  “We’re alone. There’s no May or Mindy or-”

  “Rachel, are you still back here?” A blond head poked inside the doorway.

  David growled. “Arianne!”

  His sister hesitated. “I saw Rachel come in, but was helping a customer. I just thought I’d see if she was still around and wanted to grab an early lunch with me.”

  “We’re kind of in the middle of something,” David said.

  “Not really,” Rachel countered, seeing the perfect opportunity to escape. “I mean, we were, but we’ve finished our conversation. Ari, I’d love something to eat-I’m starving.”

  “Great. I’ll get my purse.”

  Rachel made the mistake of glancing back toward David, who mouthed, Coward. But then his reproving expression was replaced with a mischievous gleam that made her palms clammy and her mouth go dry.

  “Hey, Ari, how about I join you?” he called. “Lunch with two of my favorite gals. I’ll treat. You don’t mind, do you?”

  His sister grinned. “Like I’m gonna turn down free food? My mama didn’t raise any fools.”

  David turned to Rachel and winked. “No, she sure didn’t.”

  “YOU’RE BACK,” May drawled, glancing up from the inventory-order forms on the counter. She smiled. “That must have been one of the longest thank-yous on record.”

  “Sorry. I stopped for lunch on the return trip. I can stay late to make up the time.”

  May waved a hand. “Not necessary. You see how swamped we are in here.” Last month, they’d been busy with clients who wanted personalized Christmas cards and other holiday items, but most people who were going to purchase those had done so already.

  “All right. I’ll just go check the store e-mail.” As Rachel sat at the computer, she could hardly concentrate enough to type in the password. Her thoughts kept drifting back to David.

  He’d been utterly charming at lunch, darn him. He’d made Arianne laugh, and Rachel had reluctantly done the same. She could hardly sit through the meal glaring without letting her sister-in-law know there was a problem.

  Their recent troubles had overshadowed the memories of their whirlwind courtship, how much she’d enjoyed merely being around him, how she’d smiled all the time. Lately she’d felt isolated, first by the medical side effects but most excruciatingly by losing her baby, and had been too caught up in her own suffering to notice how rare David’s smiles were growing. He put on a better public face than she did, but his family hadn’t been fooled. Arianne had actually commented today while they waited for the check that it had been a while since she’d seen her big brother in such a good mood.

  Guilt tugged at Rachel, knowing how confused Ari would be by the forthcoming news of their separation. Of course, before she could worry about how David’s family took the news, she had to make sure David himself acknowledged their separation. The flowers and his presence at lunch today made it clear that he wanted her to give it another try for their child’s sake. Too much responsibility for an unborn baby. When the problems between them sharpened enough to cause discord further down the road, would one of them resent their kid for being the reason they were still together? She liked to believe that neither she nor David would ever be that petty, but she was routinely shocked by the way parents going through divorces could inadvertently hurt their children.

  “Hey, I think I’m gonna go grab some lunch myself,” May said. When Rachel looked up and nodded in acknowledgment, the older woman winked. “But I promise not to bring back any fish.”

  A few minutes later, the door opened and Belle Fulton, the executive secretary on the chamber of commerce board, bustled inside with a smile. Belle favored seriously bright shades of lipstick, so her grins were generally visible from a distance. “Happy holidays!”

  Rachel grinned back. “Happy holidays to you. What can we do for you today?”

  “Brochures. We’re trying to attract holiday shoppers to town, increase revenue for our members.”

  “But-” Rachel bit her lip, realizing that her unsolicited comment was not entirely diplomatic.

  Belle, however, cocked her head to the side, waiting. “Yes?”

  “Nothing. I just…Are you intending to use these brochures this year? It seems like they could have done even more to attract tourist dollars if we’d printed them sooner. Not that it’s any of my business,” she added hastily.

  Belle sighed. “No, you’re right. It just takes us a while to come to any decisions and then act on them. Volunteers make up half the chamber’s board, so this is on top of their normal jobs, plus we have a few very opinionated people. Then there was deciding how much it was worth to spend when we’re trying to make money. The first photographer-I shouldn’t even be telling you this-did such a lousy job that we had Gina Oster go back and do them over. Sweet of her, but she’s hardly a pro herself. We don’t have the budget for one.”

  Later, as Rachel put together the files to print the brochures, she couldn’t help studying the pictures with a critical eye. The slogan wasn’t half-bad-Nothing Says Christmas Like Mistletoe-but the pictures were far too commercial. Potential tourists and holiday shoppers didn’t need to see images of the First Bank on Main Street, even if the bank had donated money for the project. No, what the brochure needed were homey photos of Kerrigan Farms and their rows of evergreen trees for sale. The mistletoe hanging in the white gazebo in the town square. Those were the scenes that would draw people; then once they were here, spending money would be a natural progression.

  Rachel thought back to last week, when she’d half hoped for a computer error just so she had something to distract her from her personal life. No one at the chamber had asked for her input. Was she merely butting in out of self-preservation?

  Maybe, she admitted, as she began typing some notes for Belle and the other directors. But needing the distraction didn’t preclude also having some darn good ideas. Busy brainstorming, she barely noticed how much time had passed until May walked back in the door. With a start, Rachel sat back in her chair. When was the last time she’d been so engrossed in something, so confident in her abilities to help a client?

  Okay, not a client, exactly. She glanced at some of what she’d written, considered the pictures she could take to bring the ideas to life. At least, not yet.

  Chapter Eight

  “All right.” Rachel felt surprisingly unself-conscious about talking to her belly through the thin cotton of her pink T-shirt. “You’ve made your point.”

  Today, she and David were supposed to meet at the OB’s office and find out for sure if she was pregnant. But the baby had chosen now to make its presence known beyond a shadow of a doubt. While Rachel had experienced increasing twinges of nausea in the past few weeks, this was the first time she’d truly succumbed to full-on morning sickness. The back door to the house was still open-she’d been letting the dogs out in the yard when she’d had to make a sudden run for it.

  Hadn’t she read somewhere that an expectant mother tossing her cookies was a sign o
f a healthy, growing baby?

  She got to her feet slowly in case the room had any plans of spinning again, then she went into the kitchen, planning to call the dogs inside and consider breakfast options. The pregnancy books she’d bought the first time were buried in a closet back at her and David’s house, but she remembered reading that, while it seemed counterintuitive, food would help ease the nausea. As she reached the back door, she heard the barking. She peeked her head out and saw the dogs with their noses pressed to the wooden planks of the fence. On the sidewalk beyond, David’s posture was sheepish. The hounds raised enough of a ruckus to wake the entire neighborhood.

  When he saw her, he called, “I was just out jogging.”

  “Of course.” She whistled, causing the dogs to glance her way. None of them actually came toward her, however. The two older ones were at least quiet now, but Hildie kept yipping her excitement. Rachel took another step outside, wincing at the cold of the ground through her fuzzy socks. “I don’t think they’re going to leave their post until you pass by.”

  David didn’t seem in any hurry. “Well, I guess I’ll see you at Dr. McDermott’s office…unless you want to ride together?”

  It was a seemingly innocuous suggestion, yet she was left with the distinct impression he hadn’t heard anything she’d tried to tell him in his office yesterday. “David-”

  “You know, with gas prices being what they are,” he added, “and carpooling being the more environmentally friendly option.”

  Exasperating man. “Sic him, Hildie.”

  “Honestly, Rach, what are you worried about? The few minutes alone in the car can’t possibly be as intimate as the visit itself. I mean, we’re going to find out for sure whether or not we’ve created a new life, hopefully get to see the first sonogr-”

  “Shh! It’s bad enough that the dogs probably woke up everyone in the subdivision. We shouldn’t be out here discussing private matters.”

  “You’re absolutely right,” he said smoothly. “I’ll come inside.”

  He went from leaning against the fence to sprinting before she had time to protest. She’d say this for him-he could move.

  But paying him compliments was the furthest thing from her mind when she opened the front door. “I don’t want to ride with you.”

  Peering at her beneath the foyer chandelier, he frowned. “Up close, you don’t look…I mean…Rough morning?”

  “I guess there’s really no debonair way to tell a girl she’s green and disheveled.”

  “You’re sick to your stomach, aren’t you? I’m an ass. You shouldn’t have been standing out in the cold talking to me-you should be off your feet. Why don’t you go relax, and I’ll make some coffee? No, caffeine’s bad for the baby. I’ll pour juice and-”

  “You’ll go away,” Rachel said firmly. “I appreciate the sentiment, sort of, but I don’t need help.”

  “Why are you being so stubborn?”

  “Why are you? David, I don’t want you to take care of me.”

  He surprised her by putting a hand across her abdomen. “It’s my baby, too, Rach. Let me be part of this. Don’t shut me out again.”

  She flinched at his soft words. “I would never try to push you away where the baby’s involved.”

  “There was a time I wouldn’t have believed you would push me away, period.” He let his hand drop away.

  He blames me. Worse, on some level, so did she. “It’s not-it’s not like I set out to create distance between us. But there were times when it was hard to be around you.” Like the day the doctor had called with the results from the routine test confirming that David was not the infertile one.

  Of course he wasn’t. Robustly healthy, he didn’t even have the decency to come down with the occasional flu so that she could commiserate with other wives about what a lousy patient he was. Hell, if he ever did get sick, he’d probably be perfectly gracious about it. A tangle of long-suppressed emotion bubbled to the surface-resentment for her do-no-wrong husband and self-loathing that she hadn’t been able to love him more unconditionally, that she’d ever allowed resentment to take root.

  “You know, it wasn’t exactly me pushing you, it was more pulling away. Retreating like a turtle. For my own defense.”

  “Defense? I never would have hurt you!”

  Not on purpose, but it was amazing the accidents that could take place in close quarters. “You don’t think it hurt when you pushed me to put my miscarriage behind us like it never even happened?” She cupped her hands over her belly, as if the protective gesture could somehow keep such a thing from happening again.

  “I was encouraging you to look forward, to consider other possibilities. You were in such a dark place,” he reminded her, frustration thick in his voice.

  “I was.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “And I felt very alone there.”

  “I was trying my damnedest, Rach. What the hell more did you want from me?”

  She struggled to find the right words, her own emotions and his growing impatience making an already difficult task nearly impossible. “Maybe what I needed was less from you.”

  He shoved a hand through his hair. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

  “Well, you know me. Overwrought, crazy Rachel.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

  “Finally.” She choked on a sob, wanting him gone so she could fall apart without losing the remains of her dignity. “Something we agree on.”

  “I DON’T GET men,” Arianne said, leaning against the doorjamb.

  “Then we’re even.” David kept his gaze on the spreadsheet in front of him. He needed to go in a few minutes, and he hated leaving things unfinished. “Because I don’t get women.” His curt tone would have warned away most would-be conversationalists.

  His little sister, however, was impervious.

  She sauntered inside the office and dropped into a chair. “Seriously, I’m baffled. Yesterday you were in a great mood. Today you’re biting off heads left and right.”

  “You should go while yours is still attached,” he said mildly.

  “What’s going on, Dave?” In contrast to her earlier tone, she no longer sounded like an adolescent sibling needling him. She sounded like a bona fide grown-up who was concerned-and more astute than people might think.

  He met her gaze, wanting to tell her everything was fine but unable to lie to her outright. “Nothing that we need to discuss right now. Shouldn’t you be working?”

  She waved a hand. “I doubt the owner will fire me over a few minutes back here. That’s the beauty of nepotism.”

  David snorted. “Dad has never shown his kids favoritism. If anything, he’s tougher on us than he’s been on some of the part-time help over the years. You work darn hard.”

  “I know.” She dimpled at him. “But I like hearing you say it. Now, are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or do I have to pull Mom aside and tell her I’m dreadfully worried about you?”

  “Brat.” They both knew that Susan could be obstinately determined when it came to prying information from one of her kids. She’d already expressed some concern for him, and if Arianne added that he was acting strangely, his mother might not be content to leave well enough alone. He made a show of checking his watch. “If you’re done with your attempted extortion, I’m supposed to meet Rachel somewhere.”

  “‘Somewhere’?” Arianne echoed.

  “It involves your Christmas present. I can’t say more. It would ruin the surprise.”

  “You’re so full of it. But at least Rach never has to worry about her husband keeping something from her. You’re a lousy liar.”

  “I wouldn’t lie to Rachel.”

  “I was joking. You know that, right?”

  “Yeah, sure.” It was just that he didn’t find much about his marriage funny these days. He stood. “If I don’t get out of here, I risk being late.”

  “Yeah, that gridlocked downtown Mistletoe traffic can be a
real delay.” She sighed. “Fine, don’t tell me what’s wrong. Go wherever it is that you’re also not telling me. I’m only a blood relation, no one important.”

  He made it all the way to the door before he turned back to press a kiss on top of Arianne’s head.

  She blinked up at him. “What the heck was that?”

  “I love you. You’re a pain in the ass, but it’s sweet that you worry about me.”

  “Oh God. You’re not dying or something, are you?”

  His laugh was rusty. “Of course not.”

  “All right.” She raised up on her tiptoes to hug him. “Dave? Whatever is wrong, you should talk to somebody about it. If not me or Mom, then maybe Tanner. Or better yet, your wife.”

  He’d tried to talk to his wife-and the disastrous results were why he’d been snapping at people all day.

  THE PALE BLUE chairs in the OB’s waiting room were locked together bench-style, in rows of three, but Rachel and David managed to sit so rigidly that there was no chance of their bodies brushing. The silence reverberating in Rachel’s skull was giving her a hell of a headache. Yet despite all of that, she was perversely relieved by David’s presence.

  She no longer harbored a molecule of doubt that she was pregnant, still, until she actually heard Dr. McDermott say everything was progressing just right, Rachel would remain a nervous wreck. Thank God she didn’t have to await the doctor’s diagnosis alone. So much for standing on your own two feet.

  While she’d strongly wanted to throw something at her husband that morning, he’d been absolutely right on one point. It’s my baby, too, Rach. Let me be part of this. The memory was a raw wound, substantiating what she’d known but apparently hadn’t accepted: the reason she was suddenly getting the full-court press was because he didn’t want to lose his place in their child’s life.

  Could she blame him, though? After all, he was the father.

  “Rachel Waide?”

  Her heart thumped against her chest. “That’s me.” And always would be. While she’d had her maiden name for far more years than her married surname, she didn’t think she’d ever truly be comfortable as Rachel Nietermyer again. She certainly didn’t want a different last name than her own child.