“Why are you here, Lucy?” Nick asked quietly
“I need help.”
The words were offered so grudgingly that he might have smiled if she’d been anyone else.
“From me?” he blurted out in disbelief. A short bark of laughter escaped before he could stop it. “As I recall, we didn’t exactly part on good terms. Let’s see, you told me you were choosing your job over me, then you ran for the exit.”
A flush spread up her neck and over her cheeks. “What happened in the past is hardly relevant.”
“It seemed damned relevant to me at the time,” he countered.
“You’ve got to hear me out,” Lucy said urgently. “Please.” She reached into her pocket and withdrew a photograph.
It took a moment for Nick to absorb what he was seeing. The photo was of two children placed close enough together that their bodies touched and appeared to be entwined. No, not entwined.
Conjoined.
Bit by bit, the significance of Lucy’s visit began to sink in. Nick knew instinctively that she hadn’t come to him merely for advice. She wanted more than that. Much more.
Dear Reader,
The premise for The Miracle Twins came to me while I spent a week in the intermediate care nursery at a local hospital with my first daughter. I was so impressed by the many doctors and nurses who had dedicated their careers to the welfare of children. Even more touching were the doting parents who spent countless hours rocking these tiny infants or keeping watch over high-tech isolettes until the day they were allowed to bring their children home.
I hope you enjoy The Miracle Twins. My readers have been a source of so much joy to me. I want to thank you for all the support you’ve sent my way.
All best,
Lisa Bingham
The Miracle Twins
Lisa Bingham
To my own miracle children and the three incredible birth mothers who gave them life.
Contents
Chapter One
As she settled into a taxi and left the Salt Lake City International Airport behind her, Lucy Devon decided that she didn’t appreciate life’s little ironies. No matter how hard she tried to make thoughtful, well-planned decisions, her mistakes had a way of coming back to haunt her. “Never say never,” her mother had been fond of quoting. “God is always listening.”
“Too true, Mom,” Lucy whispered under her breath as the cab began to climb upward toward the eastern bench of the Wasatch Mountains.
From this vantage point, she had a beautiful view of the city. As dusk fell, lights began to twinkle like gold dust in the gathering gloom. If she tried hard enough, Lucy was sure she could find the tall, copper-colored building where she’d completed her journalism internship as a graduate student at the University of Utah. The university was where she and Nick Hammond had first met and fallen in love. And it was over there, a few more blocks to the east, that she’d decided marrying him would ruin all chances of furthering her career.
Dear God, had she really gone to the courthouse just before their wedding to tell him she was rejecting him in favor of “the story of a lifetime”?
Even now, the thought of those few tempestuous minutes could make her squirm in embarrassment and shame. Try as she might, she hadn’t been able to wipe away the memory of the expressions that had come over his face one after the other: disbelief, disgust and then anger. After making her escape, Lucy had sworn that, as long as she lived, she would never see Nick again. She wouldn’t go even a hundred miles near the place Nick lived and worked.
“But God has other plans,” she breathed.
“Did you say something, miss?” the cabdriver asked, glancing over his shoulder.
Lucy grimaced. “No. Just talking to myself.”
The man chose to let the comment pass. “You got family you’re visiting here in town?”
She made a noncommittal noise.
“That’s nice,” the driver said absently, his attention on the road.
Nice wasn’t exactly the word Lucy would have used to explain her current predicament. She would’ve done anything to avoid the upcoming meeting.
The cabdriver pointed to a house on the corner. “That’s the address up there.”
The taxi pulled to a stop at the curb, and Lucy peered through the window. Lights blazed from the house and the distant thump of music could be heard over the running engine.
The driver ducked to see the brass numbers bolted to the cottage-style rock home perched on a slight knoll. “Yep. This is it.”
“How much do I owe you?” Lucy asked, opening her purse.
“Eleven-fifty.”
