“Gracious, such traffic! Honestly, Ellie, you really, must move to a better part of town. It’s miles to the nearest mall.” Marjorie Mackenzie, fresh from her latest therapy session, breezed inside in a cloud of perfume, swishing fur, tossing her glistening blond mane and carrying a large gift wrapped with gold foil and Irish lace. She thrust the package at the nearest body, which happened to belong to the assistant fire chief, who stared at it as if it were a bomb.
Shrugging out of her mink, Marjorie flopped the thick garment against Drake Jackson’s chest, then spun around, gushing. “Where is he, where is my handsome godson?”
“Ma-mar!” Daniel shrieked happily, thrusting out his fat little hands.
“There he is! Oh, my sweet, precious boy!” Marjorie hurried forward, plucked the giggling baby out of Samuel’s arms to cover his tiny face with kisses and crimson lipstick.
Ellie and Samuel exchanged a knowing smile, then Samuel took the mink from Drake and hung it in the hall closet while Ellie retrieved the extravagantly wrapped gift from the startled chief and placed it with the other presents. There was no doubt that the contents of the gilded package would be as extravagant as the wrapping. Marjorie had always- been extremely generous with Daniel, almost painfully so.
Ellie and Samuel had set no limits on her gifts because she adored the child so, and because the feeling was mutual. Daniel was too young to understand material items his godmother provided, but he certainly wasn’t too young to understand that she lavished him with love. Marjorie Mackenzie had become a big part of Daniel’s life.
Despite a flamboyance emerging after her husband’s death and used, Ellie suspected, to conceal a lingering grief Marjorie refused to acknowledge, the two women had become extremely close over the past year. Daniel adored her, Samuel was amused by her and Ellie considered her a dear friend.
She was, however, a bit on the self-indulgent side, and a little scattered when it came to details, such as remembering one’s driver who was hovering uncofortably in the doorway holding a huge pink bakery box.
Marjorie spotted the poor man as she spun the giggling baby around for the fifth time. She jerked to a stop. “Oh! Danny, look what else Godmommy brought for your birthday.” She plopped the baby into the nearest set of arms, which again happened to belong to the long-suffering assistant fire chief, then hurried to retrieve the bakery box. “That will be all, Wilkins.”
“Yes’m.” The relieved man issued a polite head bow, then beat a hasty retreat, presumably to relax in the car until called back to duty.
“Perhaps Wilkins would like some refreshments?” Ellie suggested.
Marjorie blinked up as if startled by the thought. “Of course not, dear. I’ve given him the afternoon off. He’s going to take his granddaughter to the zoo.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Samuel apologetically retrieve their son from the bewildered chief. “That was nice of you, Marjorie.”
The woman shrugged off the praise, flipped open the box with childlike excitement and displayed a massive sheet cake decorated with intricate frosting sculptured toys. “Isn’t this simply the most splendid cake you’ve ever seen?”
Samuel peered over Ellie’s shoulder. “It’s nice, Marj, but Ellie already made a—” He grunted as his wife’s elbow poked his ribs.
“It’s lovely,” Ellie assured her. “Why don’t you put it in the kitchen until I can find a nice platter for it?”
Marjorie beamed, swished off with her prize while Ellie headed for the buffet table to conceal the grinning, smiley-face cake with an inverted salad bowl.
Moments later Marjorie returned, party hats were distributed, happy birthday songs were sung, JoAnn’s children played pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey and a rollicking good time was had by all.
Finally it was time to cut the cake, which Marjorie insisted on retrieving herself. Only when her distressed shriek silenced the entire room did Ellie glance at the empty dog bed. Her heart sank. Following her gaze, Samuel’s eyes widened in horror. They simultaneously bolted toward the kitchen, where Baloo sat politely at the kitchen table licking frosting off his face. The fancy, extravagant sheet cake had been reduced to a half-eaten pile of gooey crumbs.
Marjorie wailed. Baloo burped.
Gasps and chuckles emanated from the crush of guests gathered at the kitchen door. Samuel heaved a sigh, pasted on a bright smile. “Well, I guess it’s time to haul out the emergency backup cake.”
The assistant fire chief stepped forward to escort a shaken Marjorie into the living room. As they passed by, Ellie heard him whisper, “What is that scent you’re wearing, Ms. Mackenzie? It’s quite appealing.”
Marjorie replied with a throaty laugh, tucked her slim, crimson-tipped fingers through the crook of his arm. The cake incident was clearly the last thing on her mind.
Samuel shifted Daniel in his arms, leaned over to nuzzle his wife’s ear. “I love you, Mrs. Evans.”
Ellie smiled. “I know.”
As Samuel rejoined their guests, Ellie stood in the doorway, savoring the moment, the miracle of her precious son, her beloved husband and a dozen dear and devoted friends, each with their own story of triumph over adversity.
In a corner of the living room displayed in a place of honor, the hand-woven cedar cradle brimmed with brightly colored birthday gifts, a poignant reminder that for those with the courage to accept it, love is the greatest miracle of all.
Watch for Diana Whitney’s next compelling
novel, ONE MAN’S PROMISE, coming in
July 1998 from Silhouette Romance.
ISBN : 978-1-4592-6679-7
BABY IN HIS CRADLE
Copyright © 1998 by Diana Hinz
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017 U.S.A.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and TM are trademarks of Harlequin Books S.A., used under license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
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