“Yes,” she said, excited and warmed by the prospect. Decorating the living room could wait a day or two or three. “Let’s buy our first something for this baby. Maybe a little outfit, or a toy, or a soft blanket, or—I know! Maybe a teddy bear.” She stopped and inhaled a breath. “I love this idea, Logan. I...didn’t realize how much I needed to celebrate this baby’s existence.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Logan said. “I think it will be good for both of us.”
He was right, on so many levels. Focusing on the baby today, the day after their wedding, was the perfect way to start this in-name-only, temporary marriage. And shopping for the baby would entail the first decision of many they would make as lifelong, platonic partners.
As parents. A simple objective, perhaps, but a shared one that would hopefully put everything they were trying to achieve in complete and proper perspective.
Today there would be no running, no hiding, or—please, God—no crying. She’d revel in this life growing inside her, and she’d do so with Logan.
* * *
“I’m nervous,” Anna said, putting voice to Logan’s own sentiment.
They were about to get their first peek at their baby via an ultrasound, and Logan stood with his back to Anna as she readied herself on the examining table. She’d been told to leave on her underwear but to strip off her pants and cover herself with the provided sheet, and while he remembered Anna’s body well—too well, perhaps—he wasn’t about to gape at her while she undressed.
“Me too,” he admitted. “But I’m sure everything will be fine.”
“What if he or she is missing a leg? Or an arm? Or what if there’s... Oh, my God,” she said, her voice several pitches higher than normal. “Logan...what if there are two of them?”
He’d already had the scary thought of missing limbs, along with the possibility of extra limbs. There could be a problem with the baby’s heart or brain or lungs. Any of these probabilities wouldn’t alter Logan’s love or commitment toward his child, but he hated—hated—that in this critical area, he held zero control.
Still, he kept his voice light as he asked, “Two arms or two legs? I don’t know about you, but my preference is for our baby to have two arms and two legs. Along with a matching set of hands and feet. Two eyes would be good, as well. Don’t you think?”
“No, you dolt! Two babies,” Anna said. “What if there are two?”
Twins? The potential, no matter how slight, sent Logan’s heart into overdrive. Mostly he’d set his other fears aside. He and Anna were healthy; therefore, the chances were high their baby would be, also. But he hadn’t considered that their solitary night together might have resulted in the conception of two babies. Two. What would he do with two?
Well, he’d love them, he supposed. Treasure them. He might even, given time to settle into such a reality, become excited by the prospect. However, in this second on this day, his vast preference was to stick with a solitary infant. Healthy, please, of either gender.
“Um...do twins run in your family?” he asked, annoyed he didn’t already know the answer. He should know. She was his wife. “Or are you speaking in hypothetical terms?”
“Hypothetically,” she said. “As far as I know, twins do not run in my family. But there’s always a first time, isn’t there? And there isn’t always a genetic cause, and—” he heard the rustling of a sheet “—they say that morning sickness is often worse with twins. Which, you know, has sort of been the case with me. So, I’ve wondered if that’s why.”
“I’m sure there are other causes,” he said, instinctively wanting to offer comfort. “But if for some reason we’re having twins, we’ll figure that out, too.”
They probably weren’t. There had to be plenty of pregnant-with-only-one-child women who suffered from longer-than-typical morning sickness. Had to be. But this discussion highlighted how little he knew about what was going on inside Anna’s body, and he did not like being so unaware. That would have to change. Though he did know a fair amount about pregnant cows.
Hmm, probably smarter and safer to keep his mouth shut on that topic.
“It’s perfectly safe to turn around now, Logan. I’m covered,” Anna said. “And you’re right, of course. My aunt said my mother was sick for almost the entire nine months with me and my sisters, so it could be that I take after her.”
To Logan, that made a lot more sense than the possibility of twins. Relieved, he faced Anna and, pulling a chair next to her, sat down. “Doesn’t matter, though,” he said, speaking with more confidence than he actually felt. “We’ll be fine. One baby or two or...three.”
“Are you insane? Don’t say three!”
Her startled tone and stricken features brought forth a laugh. Without thinking about the sanity of the action, he stroked her hair, saying, “Honey, verbalizing the very rare possibility of triplets will not make it a reality.”
“Yeah? You’re willing to bet on that?” She shivered. Due to his touch, their conversation or being cold, he wasn’t sure. “Because I’m not. One is my preferred number. Two would be tough, but doable. Three? I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
“I suppose we wouldn’t want the infants to outnumber the adults,” he said, refraining from chuckling a second time. “But we don’t know anything yet, do we? Stop worrying until there’s a cause for worry.” He cracked a grin and tried to add some humor. “Wow, Anna. Can you imagine how big your stomach would get with three babies?”
Her eyes narrowed into slits and she sniffed. “That is such a male thing to say.”
Well. Not really. Now, if he’d said he couldn’t imagine how large her breasts would get, that would be a male thing to say. Wisely, he kept that thought to himself.
The image, however, stuck.
“On the other hand,” she said in a false, overly bright tone, “trying to imagine you as the father to three girls, who would someday become three emotionally high-strung teenage girls—with boyfriends, I might add—is almost worth the possibility of having triplets.”
“That’s a fairly large leap. For one,” he said, ignoring the cold shudder of fear sweeping through him, “the chance of having three babies is so incredibly low, it’s basically nonexistent. Second, even if that were to happen, we could have three boys. Or, for that matter, a mixed lot.”
“Hmm. Yes, you’re absolutely correct,” she said in a sugary, sweet-as-pie sort of way. “I wonder what the actual probability of triplets is? Do you think it’s higher or lower than the probability of becoming pregnant while using a condom?”
“Lower, Anna. Much, much lower,” he said. He was about to pull out his phone and do a quick search, to back up his statement with solid fact, when the ultrasound technician entered the room. Soon enough now, they’d know exactly how many babies to expect.
But he had learned a valuable lesson. Never again would he joke about the size of a pregnant woman’s stomach. Even in the abstract. Even if his reasoning was meant to be positive.
The ultrasound technician—her name tag read Julie—approached the examining table. “Are you two ready to get started, or do you need more time?”
“We are definitely ready,” Anna said.
“The sooner the better,” Logan said, half under his breath.
“Okay, good.” Julie came around to the other side of the table, saying, “What we’re doing today is called an anomaly scan. I’ll be looking to see if your baby is developing normally. And if we’re lucky and your baby is in the correct position, I should be able to identify if you’re having a boy or a girl.” She smiled at both of them. “Unless you’d rather not know?”
Logan darted a glance at Anna. They’d discussed twins and triplets and missing limbs, but they hadn’t talked about this. He wanted to know if they were having a son or a daughter, for sure, but he’d let her make the call. “Wha
t do you think, Anna? Any preferences here?”
“I’d like to know,” she said, returning his gaze. “I think it will be easier for us to plan.”
“Seems we’re in agreement,” he said to Julie. “Boy or girl, let us know.”
Nodding, Julie pushed up Anna’s shirt and then rolled down the sheet that covered her lower body. Without warning, Logan became...transfixed.
By the sight in front of him. By the awareness that his baby was safely nestled within the gentle swell of Anna’s stomach. By the reality of what was about to happen. Reaching over, humbled by a wash of shocked gratitude, he grasped Anna’s hand.
“I’m nervous,” Anna repeated.
“I’ve been doing this for a long while,” Julie said as she squeezed some goop on Anna’s stomach, “and the vast majority of the time, babies grow just fine and everything is exactly how it should be. I know this is scary, but try not to worry too much.”
Logan hoped her words offered Anna some comfort, but he knew that sometimes, things weren’t exactly as they should be. Some couples had entered this room with excitement and anticipation, hope and curiosity, only to learn that they did, indeed, have plenty to worry about.
All he could do was pray they’d fall into the majority.
“So,” Julie said, picking up the transducer and gently pressing it against the soft curve of Anna’s stomach, “let’s see what this little one is up to, shall we?”
An image appeared on the screen, causing Anna to take a sharp breath of surprise, and Logan... Well, he clean forgot about anything and everything else. Because there, in front of him, was a moving picture of his child. Initially, what he saw looked more alien than human, but he soon identified arms and hands, legs and feet. Nothing appeared to be missing limb-wise, and there did not seem to be anything extra. Including a second or—God help them both—a third baby.
Neither he nor Anna spoke. They just stared in wonder. Julie switched on the speakers, and the soft, steady rhythm of the baby’s heartbeat filled the room. He tightened his hold on Anna’s hand, knowing he couldn’t talk in the midst of such intense emotion.
This baby was theirs, to nurture and guide and protect. This baby would have a voice and opinions, would someday go to school. He or she would have likes and dislikes and dreams for the future. This child would feel love and happiness, anger and sadness, and would form decisions throughout his or her life. Some good, some bad.
And Logan would be there, every single step of the way.
Perhaps for the first time since learning of Anna’s pregnancy, Logan wholly understood that they had created a life. An entire new person who would, in one way or another, put his or her mark on this world. It didn’t matter in the slightest if that mark was large or small or somewhere in the middle. All that mattered was the reality, the miracle, of this baby.
Lord. If he hadn’t decided to have a drink that night in June, if Anna hadn’t decided the same, this person—this life—would not exist. Less than twenty minutes had passed since he’d walked into this room with Anna, but already, something fundamental had changed.
He would never, for as long as he took in air, be quite the same man again.
One look at Anna showed she was processing her own set of powerful, likely similar, emotions. And to him, in that instant, she was easily the most beautiful and breathtaking woman he’d ever seen. Sure, it took two to tango, but he felt as if she’d bestowed on him a gift. A precious—no, a priceless—and remarkable gift. Two of them, actually.
The baby and the man he had just become.
Leaning over, he gave her a gentle, quick kiss on her forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered. And then, because he couldn’t stop himself, he gave her another kiss. Equally as gentle, equally as quick, but this time on her lips. She blinked when they separated.
In surprise, no doubt.
“Well, look at that,” Julie said, grabbing their attention. She nodded toward the screen. “Your baby is cooperating. It seems she wants to make herself known to her parents.”
“A girl?” Anna said. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure enough that I’d bet on it.”
A girl. They were having a daughter. He was having a daughter. How about that?
“Oh. Oh!” Anna blinked again and a wash of tears filled her eyes. “I hadn’t thought one way or the other, but now...now that feels right. Of course she’s a girl!”
Julie started talking again, explaining that she was about to measure the circumference of their daughter’s head, but Logan was lost in Anna. In her eyes, in her expression, in her smile.
In everything to do with her, he was just lost.
And like her, he felt the same about the rightness of having a daughter. Almost as if he should have known all along. “Of course she’s a girl. If she’s lucky, she’ll look just like you.”
Anna’s smile widened and a faint pink blush dripped over her cheeks. She turned her gaze toward the screen again, let out a contented sigh and said, “She’s lucky, regardless, because she has us. But I think we’re even luckier, since we have her.”
And Logan couldn’t have agreed more.
Chapter Five
Since the day they learned they were having a daughter, everything between Anna and Logan had just seemed easier. They were both relieved, naturally, that the baby appeared to be perfectly healthy and growing just as she should, but there was also this lovely, quiet type of exuberance that had slowly come into being. Seemingly with little effort, they were enveloped in their own world, buoyed by the shared experience of seeing their daughter.
In addition to the stuffed teddy bear they’d purchased the day after their wedding, they went out again and bought a cuddly pink sleeper and, because they couldn’t resist, two toys their baby wouldn’t play with for some time to come: her first doll and a bright red fire truck. Logan’s assessment was that they shouldn’t assume their daughter would want to play only with the traditionally accepted girl toys. And Anna’s thoughts aligned with his.
So yes, while she couldn’t deny that these were still the early days and anything could happen, this platonic-partnership idea seemed to be flourishing. Day-to-day living with Logan had become a comfortable, compatible rhythm in which they typically shared breakfast, went on with their individual routines and then spent the evenings together.
When Logan was at the ranch—he’d been in Wyoming all of last week—he phoned each night, just as he had before the wedding. Oh, they never talked for long, but their conversations maintained their connection and served to keep them on the solid ground they’d located. Other than her health, they did not cross into personal areas. He didn’t say he missed her, and she hadn’t mentioned how empty the house had felt without him.
They were getting along well, so why muddy the tranquil waters with messy emotions that, in the long run, didn’t really mean much of anything?
Logan had returned home last night, and today was Thanksgiving. She had told him that he could stay in Wyoming to celebrate the holiday with his family, that she would be fine. He’d stated, rather unequivocally, that he was going to spend the holiday with his family: her, his unborn daughter and his brother and sister-in-law, Gavin and Haley.
And even though she reminded herself that this, too, meant nothing in the long run—to think otherwise would be foolish—a glow of happiness had overtaken Anna at his words.
His choice was to be here. With her.
In the kitchen, Anna hummed and finished covering the four pies she’d baked—two pumpkin, one apple and one pecan—with plastic wrap. They were leaving for Gavin’s shortly. All of Haley’s family would be there, and Haley had kindly invited Anna’s aunt, as well. So Logan and Anna were stopping by Lola’s to pick her up.
It was a big group, celebrating Thanksgiving together. This was something that Anna was thrille
d about. Living in Texas, she hadn’t had a true family holiday in years, and really, even longer when she considered the barely recognized, awkward holidays after her mother’s death and before her aunt had brought Anna and Laurel into her home. And while the Thanksgivings and Christmases with Lola had been better than that strange, in-between time, they were still on the small and casual side.
Nice, yes, and Anna had no complaints, but she was excited that today felt like the old-fashioned Thanksgivings she remembered from her early childhood, when her mother had invited neighbors and friends and family. Loud and boisterous—she could only assume that would be the case with so many people—and happy. Also, she just felt incredibly thankful this year. More so than she had in a long, long while.
Still humming, she stacked the pies two by two in a cardboard box for easy transit, and just as she started to leave the kitchen, a series of...bubbling gurgles sort of fizzled and popped in her stomach. Realization that this was her daughter, again making herself known, hit fast and hard. Delight and a flurry of excitement quickly followed.
“Logan!” she called. “Come here. Fast!”
She put her hand on her stomach but couldn’t tell if she actually felt the movement against her palm or if the entirety of what she was experiencing was internal. But she didn’t much care, either. Logan needed to be a part of this.
“Logan! Oh my God, get in here!” she yelled out again. “You—”
“What’s wrong?” he said as he raced into the room. He stopped, frantically gave her the once-over and, apparently seeing she wasn’t in distress, exhaled a long breath. Even so, the next words out of his mouth were “Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”
She nodded. “I wanted—”
“I thought there was a problem.” Closing his eyes for a second, Logan expelled another drawn-out breath. When he opened them again, his expression was one of forced calmness. “Okay, I’m here. What’s going on? What do you need?”
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