Their Precious Christmas Miracle: Mistletoe Baby / In the Spirit of...Christmas / A Baby By Christmas. Tanya Michaels
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“No, I’m glad you didn’t call 911,” Rachel said. As it was, she was already mortified. “I’m fine now.”
She was fine. A horrible thought struck her, making her tremble with sick apprehension. Was the baby okay? Falling couldn’t be good for the pregnancy. She didn’t have long to obsess over that, however, before David burst into the shop.
“Rachel!”
May stood, waving at him. “Back here.”
He rounded the counter at top speed, his gaze frantic and his skin ashen.
Rachel was stunned. He looks worse than I do. At least, he looked worse than she imagined she did.
Kneeling next to her, he cupped her face in his large hands, his touch infinitely tender. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just stood up too fast. But—” She broke off, scared to put her fears into words.
“I called Dr. McDermott’s office and told them I was bringing you in. She didn’t hit her head or anything when she fell, did she?” he asked May.
“Not really, just toppled over.” May sent another agitated glance toward her only full-time employee, trying her best to look jovial. “You go with the big guy here and let him pamper you for the rest of the day, okay?”
Rachel braced herself to stand, but David had already slid his arms around her.
“I’ve got you,” he said.
“I can—” She lost her words as he scooped her against him.
Mmm, nice. She was reminded of their wedding night, when he’d carried her over the threshold of their hotel room, kicking the door shut behind him and not stopping until he’d reached the four-poster bed. She thought about pointing out that being pressed against him was not helping her light-headed condition, but by then they’d reached his car, and he had to set her on her unsteady feet to open the door for her.
“I feel very silly about this,” she said as she buckled her seat belt.
He didn’t look at her. “Silly is when cartoon animals slip on strategically placed banana peels, not when the woman I love passes out cold at work.” His tone was so even he could have been introducing himself to a stranger, but his knuckles were white on the steering wheel.
The woman I love? Her mouth went dry. She’d heard him say he loved her hundreds—probably thousands—of times, but at the moment, it seemed liked the most dramatic proclamation ever made. She had no idea how to respond.
Fortunately—and maybe because he wasn’t sure how she would answer—he didn’t give her a chance. “This is the first time this has happened, right? No other fainting episodes we should let the doc know about?”
“Dizzy a few times, but they always passed after a second.”
At the OB’s office, he helped her out of the car, his manner solicitous, but his tight grip on her hand crushing. Feeling firsthand how much she’d alarmed him, she managed not to wince. She let him hold on, sensing that he needed it.
A different nurse than the one they’d last seen ushered them back to wait for Dr. McDermott. Unlike his usual charming self, David was terse, never taking his eyes from Rachel even when he spoke to others … After a quick exam, Dr. McDermott declared there was no reason for worry.
“Everything seems fine,” she said in her most soothing professional voice. “This isn’t uncommon. You’ve got extra blood going to your uterus and legs now, your circulatory system’s got some adjusting to do. Stand slowly, don’t lock your knees, stay hydrated. Make sure you’re getting plenty of protein so that your blood sugar doesn’t get too low. You did the right thing by coming in today, but I don’t want you to worry unduly. If it happens again, we’ll monitor the situation and maybe run a few tests.”
“Thanks.” Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. “So I don’t have to go on bed rest or anything?”
Lydia chuckled. “No. But it wouldn’t hurt for you to take it easy today and keep your feet up.”
“Taken care of,” David said, finally starting to regain color in his face.
He looked so adamant that Rachel had a sudden vision of him moving all five of Winnie’s pets into their house so he could babysit her ‘round the clock.
Once they were back in the car, she told him, “Sorry about today. Scaring you like that.”
“You don’t need to apologize. It’s not like you did it on purpose. Although—” he gave her a wan smile “—I’d appreciate it if you could avoid doing it again. I’m going to take you home, get you settled. Then I’ll go by Winnie’s, make sure everyone’s fed and give the dogs some playtime outside. Hildie’s getting great at fetch. She jumps up to catch the ball and rarely misses. But after I’ve taken care of them, I’ll be back to check on you and fix dinner. Any requests?”
“Whatever’s easiest.”
When they got to the house, he unlocked the door, waiting as she preceded him inside. It could have been any one of a hundred times—them coming back from Sunday lunch at his parents’, returning from a soccer game he’d coached, getting home after a town meeting. Don’t forget doctor visits. They’d come home from lots of different doctors’ visits in varying moods—optimistic that they might finally get their baby, frustrated that, after long months, nothing had changed, devastated that the pregnancy had terminated.
“Wow.” He looked past her at the coffee table in the living room. Photos, stickers, scissors and construction paper all lay in assorted piles. “Someone’s been busy.”
“The scrapbook,” she reminded him. “You think they know?”
David shrugged. “Nobody’s mentioned it to me, but what are the chances? It’s impossible to keep a secret here.”
“Not impossible,” she murmured. She didn’t think anyone knew about their separation. Anyone who’d seen the way he cradled her and carried her to the car today probably wouldn’t believe her even if she told them.
He swung his gaze from the scrapbooking supplies back to her. “We should get you to bed.”
“Typical guy,” she teased, wanting to keep his earlier worry at bay. “Only one thing on his mind.”
He didn’t smile, though. “If I thought there was even the slightest chance you’d let me join you …”
His words skittered along her nerve endings, and she experienced a Technicolor flashback to her dreams of the night before. Thankfully, he was too concerned about her to attempt a seduction, because she seriously doubted she could resist right now.
“Tell you what,” he suggested, “why don’t you go to the bedroom and change into something comfy? I’ll go pour you a drink. What do you feel like? Maybe I can bring you a snack, too.”
Rachel thought about it for a minute. “Apples—”
“—and