Carrying the Single Dad's Baby

by Kate Hardy

  Once they were on the dance floor and they were dancing cheek to cheek, he said, ‘Iain and me, we love you to the end of the universe and back.’

  ‘That’s how much I love you, too,’ Beatrice said. ‘And this has to be the most perfect place for you to propose and for us to get engaged. I can’t believe you all set this up between you. It’s fantastic. All our family and friends here to celebrate with us, and you all kept it so quiet!’

  ‘It’s going to be a very short engagement,’ Daniel warned, ‘because I can’t wait to marry you. Besides, if we leave it too long, our young wedding planner’s going to start suggesting that we get married on the moon and get everyone there by rocket.’

  Beatrice laughed. ‘We could always hire a film set...’ She kissed him. ‘I love you. And I don’t mind where we get married or when, just as long as we’re together.’

  ‘Together.’ He kissed her. ‘Always.’

  * * * * *

  If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Kate Hardy

  Unlocking the Italian Doc’s Heart

  Their Pregnancy Gift

  Christmas with Her Daredevil Doc

  Mommy, Nurse...Duchess?

  All available now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from The Family They’ve Longed For by Robin Gianna.

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  The Family They’ve Longed For

  by Robin Gianna

  CHAPTER ONE

  “JUST FOLLOW THE standard orders for her release from the hospital as I wrote them,” Dr. Aurora Anderson said into her phone. “I know Dr. Jones has her chart, but he doesn’t know all the nuances of her problem. Any questions, call me and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

  Overhead, the last call for her flight to Alaska was urgently announced and she huffed out an impatient breath as the intern asked a few more questions.

  “Listen, I have to board my plane. I’ll call when I get to Fairbanks. You need to follow my instructions. Yeah, I get that Dr. Jones is filling in for me while I’m gone, but I already talked to the parents about the plan. I don’t want anyone deviating from that and confusing them. They know I’ll be seeing their daughter as soon as I get back, and that they only need to contact Dr. Jones if something seems wrong.”

  Rory shoved her phone into her backpack, grabbed her carry-on bag and ran to hand her boarding pass to the airline attendant, ignoring the disapproving frown the woman gave her. Being late to board wasn’t catastrophic, but messing around and changing her orders for a patient post-op absolutely might be, so she couldn’t worry about being the last on the plane.

  After four years of med school, five years of residency and finally getting the board exam under her belt, she’d damned well earned her title: Doctor of Pediatric Orthopedic Medicine. She knew all this second-guessing from the intern was because she wasn’t yet an attending physician. But having her orders followed was supremely important—not only for the patient, but for her future on the doctors’ roster. If all went well, she’d have a permanent position there in a matter of weeks, and she’d never have to think about uprooting her life again.

  She wrestled her bag into the overhead compartment and apologized as she squeezed her way past the two people in her row before finally plopping into the window seat. She drew a calming breath and pulled out her phone again, calling a nurse to give her instructions about a couple of other patients before they were told to turn off all electronics for takeoff.

  Why they insisted on that, she had no clue, since people used computers and phones around all kinds of electronic medical equipment and not once had it interfered with testing and diagnostics. Then again, she thought to herself, she wasn’t an engineer, so she should stick with what she knew instead of offering opinions—something a few people in her past had frequently pointed out...one of whom she’d be seeing again this week whether she wanted to or not.

  That painful realization had her stomach twisting like a terrifying tornado. Seeing him again, being in her hometown at all, was going to be torture; it would bring back all the horrible memories, all the guilt, all the sorrow she’d tried so hard to leave behind.

  The plane lifted, propelling her toward the one place she absolutely didn’t want to go. She swallowed hard, trying to control the sickly feeling in her stomach, and tipped her forehead against the window to stare down at what had been her home for the past nine years.

  The dizzying concrete mass of freeways connecting the hulking city of Los Angeles and all its suburbs couldn’t be more different from where she’d grown up. Where she was heading now.

  With serious effort she managed to move her thoughts to the patients she’d just performed surgery on, and the others she was scheduled to see in her office the rest of the week. It wasn’t going to happen now. Because a different kind of patient needed her help. The woman who’d always needed some kind of care or guidance throughout Rory’s whole life.

  Her sweet, wacky, childlike mother.

  The plane rose higher above the clouds, leaving LA far behind. Rory dropped her head against her seatback and closed her eyes.

  It would be okay. It would. Being with her mother for the next week would be really nice, since she’d spent so little time with her these past nine years.

  Her mom loved her life in Eudemonia, Alaska, and hadn’t been too interested in visiting Rory in LA. The few times her mom had come to Southern California had been a joy, and a huge source of entertainment to everyone she’d been in med school with, and later her friends in the hospital. There weren’t too many people like Wendy Anderson, and her unique way of dressing was startling even in a big city like Los Angeles.

  A smile touched her lips at the memories—until reality hit her like a hard fist all over again. Taking care of her mom would be the easy part. The hard part would be being back home. The worst part would be seeing Jacob Hunter again.

  Yesterday, the sound of his voice on the other end of the phone had made her heart jolt hard in her chest, then hammer wildly—even after she had found out the reason he’d been calling. He’d been letting Rory know about her mother’s emergency surgery for a ruptured appendix, telling her that she was fine, and now just needed some nursing and recovery time.

  Unbidden, the face that had fascinated her since the fourth grade appeared in her mind and memories of him spread to her heart, bringing a melancholy pleasure and unrelenting pain. Though their friendship—and more—was long over, she would always cherish the memories of their childhood together, and their years as lovers in college.

  But theirs had been a
love that had resulted in the worst thing ever to happen to either of them.

  She squeezed her eyes more tightly shut, as though she could squish the memories right out of her brain. It hadn’t happened in nine years, so clearly there was no point in trying now. Still, she worked to think, instead, about her mother’s idiosyncrasies, which made her laugh and sometimes drove her crazy, even though she loved her to bits.

  From the time Rory had been barely more than a toddler, she vividly remembered her mother insisting that she call her Twinkle-Toes or Twinkie instead of Mom. Possibly because she adored wearing dance and fairy costumes, but mostly because actually acting like a mom had never been on her radar.

  There were memories of the two of them doing all sorts of unorthodox things—like painting every lampshade in the house neon so they’d glow in “pretty colors”; like deciding that creating rock sculpture Voodoo talismans all around the house would keep them safe after Rory’s father died. Rory had helped with all that to make her mom feel more comfortable even as she had inwardly rolled her eyes—as she had when her mother danced spontaneously whenever the mood struck, not caring if there were other people around or not.

  So many of the things her mother did were adorable and funny. But sometimes embarrassing—especially once Rory had become a teen. She found herself managing to smile in anticipation of what might greet her today at the house she’d grown up in, knowing that spending time with her unique mother was the only thing that would make this trip bearable.

  The moment the plane touched down at the Fairbanks Airport, Rory felt like a ten-pound weight had dropped onto her shoulders. Looking out at the snowcapped peaks of the Alaska Range, she felt the memories she’d tried to stuff down flood back. They forced her to think about what had happened the last two times she’d been home.

  One thing had turned out to be the biggest mistake of her life, which had left her with a shredded heart she knew would never be repaired. The other had been her father’s funeral, two years later. He had bravely suffered through diabetes, then kidney failure, for more years than she could remember. Neither one of those memories were things she wanted to revisit and remember, but being here again thickened her throat even as she promised herself she wouldn’t fall apart.

  The forty-five miles from Fairbanks passed way too fast, and soon she was driving into the city limits of Eudemonia. The moment she saw the familiar stores and homes, and the trees which were now mostly naked except for a few straggling golden yellow leaves still clinging to the branches, her chest squeezed even tighter.

  Finally the tiny house she’d grown up in came into view, surrounded by birch, aspen and spruce trees that were bigger than she remembered. Cozy and charming, in a worn sort of way, the house stood atop the small hill she’d rolled and sledded down as a kid, her mother rolling and laughing along with her while her dad watched and applauded—the hill she’d run down nine years ago, stumbling and falling, somehow getting in her car, tears making it hard to see, grief making it hard to breathe, to leave for LA.

  God, she had to get these feelings under control before she went in to see her mother.

  She hit the brakes and sat there, waiting for the sickly feeling to pass. She gulped in a few breaths, admitted she was as ready as she’d ever be, then turned her rental car off the road to bump across the uneven grass.

  She could do this. She had to. She had to find a way to get through the next week without becoming a weeping mess all over again.

  A single bulb dangled over the crooked wooden front porch, and a giant stuffed rabbit wearing a green army helmet sat on an overturned bucket to greet visitors. Why a rabbit, Rory had no clue—since it was early October, not Easter—but, boy, she couldn’t wait to find out. Though it was likely her mom didn’t have any reason other than she liked the way it looked.

  The whole place appeared even more dilapidated than it had when she’d last been here for her dad’s funeral. She’d called regularly, but she knew it had been cowardly of her to avoid this place, and consequently her mother. She felt bad about it—she did—except that being here made her feel even worse. Maybe someday she would be able to face what she’d done and deal with the pain.

  Nine years hadn’t accomplished that—which meant that “someday” was still a long way off. If it ever came.

  She knew she was beyond blessed that her mom had lots of friends to spend time with. Close friends who always looked after one another. People who were a big part of the reason why her mother sounded like her happy self whenever they spoke.

  But what her mom had gone through with her surgery wasn’t normal, everyday stuff. Rory knew her mother was supposed to be doing all right, but she might still be in a lot of pain. How on earth would her mom have coped if Rory hadn’t come home?

  She had no idea. Which made her realize all over again that, despite everything, she felt glad to finally be here for her mom.

  She planned to nurse her mom with lots of TLC. Then, with any luck, she’d be close to her normal self by the time her mom’s sister, Rory’s Aunt Patty, came to take over. Much as she dreaded spending time at home again, getting her mother healthy enough for Rory to feel okay to leave her had to be the goal.

  She stepped up to the front door and paused to pick at the paint flaking from the side, making a mental note to call a painter to get it done next summer. She knew it was too cold to paint now, but getting it on the schedule would be better than nothing.

  Her job as a resident pediatric orthopedic surgeon provided her with enough money to live on and pay for this kind of repair stuff. And now that she’d passed her boards she’d be making a lot more. Assuming she got the permanent job—which was another reason to get back to LA as quickly as possible for her interview, before someone else snagged it away from her.

  Even though it was barely six thirty, the vibrant golden sun was already setting in Eudemonia, Alaska—long before it would be in LA. She gazed at the fading orb, loving the way fingers of light slipped through the branches and lit the yellow leaves and hills. Up on the mountains the brilliant reds of the moss and lichen in the tundra glowed beneath the setting sun, and Rory was surprised at the warm nostalgia that filled her chest. It was so completely different from the warm temperatures, the concrete roads, the masses of cars and buildings and people that made up LA.

  Thinking of the warm temperatures made Rory shiver as the chilly air sneaked down inside her jacket, and she shook her head at herself. Her friends here would laugh at what a wimp she’d become, thinking it was cold now, in early October. They’d probably all still be wearing shorts and T-shirts and thinking it felt downright balmy—but, hey, when she’d left Southern California earlier that day it had been almost eighty degrees. Anyone would feel the contrast, right?

  She turned the knob and the door squeaked open. No surprise that her mom hadn’t locked it, since Rory didn’t think it had ever been secured in her whole life. In fact, thinking about it, she wasn’t sure it even did lock. And wouldn’t her California friends be flabbergasted at that?

  “Hello? Mom? Twinkle-Toes?”

  The light in the small living room was so dim it was hard to see, and she peered at the worn chairs, not seeing any sign of her mother’s small frame. Sounds of marching band music, of all things, came faintly from the back of the house, and Rory had started to move toward her mother’s bedroom when she appeared in the hallway outside the living room, with a small, curly-haired brown dog trotting beside her. Rory hadn’t met him yet.

  “Aurora! I’m so happy you’re here! Come give your mama a big hug.”

  She hurried toward her mom, partly because she looked a little unsteady, walking with the pink cane she held in her hand. “Mom. Twinkie.”

  She gently enfolded her in her arms, being careful not to squeeze, and her throat clogged with emotion at how good it felt to hold her. Until this moment she hadn’t even realized how much she’d missed seeing her and
being with her. The pain of being in Eudemonia was so intense, the pleasure of seeing her mom often just wasn’t enough to counteract it.

  No doubt about it, she was a coward. A weakling.

  “You shouldn’t be wandering around with no one here. You just got out of the hospital this afternoon. What if you fell?”

  “I knew you were coming. I knew you’d be here to take care of me, marshmallow girl.”

  Marshmallow girl. It had become her nickname after they’d filled her hot chocolate cup to overflowing with them one Christmas. It had become a tradition, with the various pups they’d had over the years gobbling up the marshmallows that had scattered on the floor. Why that had stuck in her mother’s mind she had no clue, but she’d always kind of liked it when she called her that, remembering all the silliness of her home life.

  “Yeah. I’m here to take care of you.”

  She pressed her cheek to her mother’s soft, warm one, thinking of all her years growing up, when she’d played parent to her mom instead of the other way around.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I had a knife stabbed in my tummy—that’s how!” She looked up at Rory with a mix of a grimace and a grin on her face. “Can you believe I had a bad appendix? After all the special herbs I eat and drink to stay healthy!”

  “Yeah. Who’d have thought it? Maybe your appendix has had too much fun all these years, just like you, and got plain worn out.”

  “I’m not even close to worn out.” She grinned and playfully swatted Rory’s arm. “So I’m just as happy to not have a boring appendix. Good riddance to it, if it couldn’t keep up with the fun and appreciate all the special teas and foods I gave it, right?”

  “Right. Good riddance, appendix!”

  Rory had to chuckle as she led her mom to what she knew was her favorite chair. No point in getting into a discussion on the subject of herbal supplements, and which ones her mother might avoid, since she’d never been interested in her daughter’s opinions in the past.