She's Expecting. Barbara McMahon
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“I’ll have to see.” She reached for her key and unlocked her door.
“It was nice meeting you both,” she said politely. Stepping inside, she closed the door and leaned against it for a moment. That was not distracting the men, as Jackson had direly foretold. But it might come close. Too bad they didn’t know she had no plans to get involved with anyone—even on a superficial level!
Marc’s cruel defection had cured her of romantic notions. Some people were destined for happy ever after. She wasn’t one of them.
She’d finally learned that lesson. She knew she had nothing to offer a man. Her own father had run out on her mother before she’d been born. Marc had turned away once he heard about the baby. He’d found her fun to date for a while, but commitment hadn’t been in his plans. Not to the baby, and especially not to her.
She patted her tummy. “Whoever you are, sweetie, I’ll love you forever,” she whispered, an overwhelming glow of love swelling. She would cherish her child and never abandon it, no matter what the hardships.
Not as her parents had abandoned her.
As the baby grew and developed, so did her love for her unborn child. Mandy wondered how her mother could have carelessly left her own daughter in foster care. Had she ever regretted forsaking her only child? Mandy had been five when her mother had dumped her with social services, claiming she was unable to manage anymore.
Mandy had made up tales when she was younger—about how her mother really adored her, but because she had no money, had had to reluctantly give her up to foster care, temporarily.
Then, in true melodramatic fashion, she had died, leaving Mandy to languish in the system until she turned eighteen.
Of course, once she was older, Mandy had figured out it was more likely her mother just hadn’t wanted to be bothered. That she had found it easier to deal with life unencumbered by an unwanted child.
The old sorrows surfaced again and Mandy pushed them away. It was all ancient history.
Her child would have all the love and devotion from its mother she could give it. And she had enough for two—to make up for Marc’s defection. She would not let history repeat itself!
Soon she would no longer be alone—she’d have her precious baby. They’d be a happy, close family of two.
Less than ten minutes later, Mandy peeked out her door. She’d put on loose shorts, a cotton top and a light sweatshirt. It was growing cooler by the minute, with the sun already behind the western peaks. But once she began walking she’d warm up.
No one appeared to be paying any attention to her. She locked her door and glanced around. Down by the lake a group of men were laughing and talking. Closer to her trailer, she saw four or five men near one of the campers, leaning back in camp chairs, shooting the breeze.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped out briskly. She waved when they called greetings, but didn’t stop as she passed the group near the camper. Walking briskly, she headed for the lake. If she skirted the group there, she could head to the right and walk along the shore for a while.
If felt great to be outside after a day cooped up in the office. The air was scented with pine and a hint of fresh lake water. The dirt beneath her feet was so dry it puffed in little clouds as she walked. Her shoes would be covered in red dust by the time she got back.
The group by the lake grew quieter as she drew near. Circling around them, she once again smiled and waved. One man looked as if he planned to join her, but hesitated. She refused to make eye contact, and hoped it would indicate she was not interested in companionship.
Small waves rippled quietly against the narrow beach. In spring, she suspected, the water rose to the tree line. But by late summer, the level had dropped, so there was plenty of room to walk on the compacted soil.
Striding quickly along, Mandy smiled with delight. It was the perfect ending to the day. She would make a habit of this. The water lapped gently at the shore. Wind rustled softly in the pines. By walking briskly, she kept warm, though she did slip on her sweatshirt. Maybe jeans would have been more suitable.
Before she’d gone too far, however, she was breathing hard. She couldn’t be that out of shape—she’d been walking a couple of miles after work every day in Denver. And the elevation here wasn’t that much higher, was it?
By the time Mandy decided to turn back, she was feeling decidedly queasy. Spots danced before her eyes and she was gasping for breath. A sharp pain pierced her head. She slowed her pace, anxious now only to return to the trailer and lie down.
Eyeing a fallen log near the lake, she considered sitting to rest for a moment, but pushed on. The light was fading fast. She needed to return to the trailer.
Once again she saw the men gathered near the water when she rounded the bend. Several were fishing. The others were drinking and laughing, unwinding after a tough day.
She stumbled, reached out to catch herself before she could fall. Then everything went black.
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