Rebecca Winters - The Toddler's Tale

Dear Diary,

Tonight I’m feeling particularly emotional. My life is filled with family and close friends who love me, and I love them. They help sustain me, especially during my trials. But I have to admit that right now, Chase’s disappearance has brought me to a very low ebb. To add to my pain, I just heard that Max Jamison and Chelsea Markum, of all people, are trying to rescue a toddler who crawled into a pipe and can’t get out. Two innocent, precious babies in danger!

All I can do is pray that they are still alive, that one day soon I’ll hold Chase in my arms again. I have to have more faith. Why does it seem so hard tonight?

Dear Reader,

There’s never a dull moment at Maitland Maternity! This unique and now world-renowned clinic was founded twenty-five years ago by Megan Maitland, widow of William Maitland, of the prominent Austin, Texas, Maitlands. Megan is also matriarch of an impressive family of seven children, many of whom are active participants in the everyday miracles that bring children into the world.

When our series began, the family was stunned by the unexpected arrival of an unidentified baby at the clinic—unidentified, except for the claim that the child is a Maitland. Who are the parents of this child? Is the claim legitimate? Will the media’s tenacious grip on this news damage the clinic’s reputation? Suddenly, rumors and counterclaims abound. Women claiming to be the child’s mother materialize out of the woodwork! How will Megan get at the truth? And how will the media circus affect the lives and loves of the Maitland children—Abby, the head of gynecology, Ellie, the hospital administrator, her twin sister, Beth, who runs the day care center, Mitchell, the fertility specialist, R.J., the vice president of operations—even Anna, who has nothing to do with the clinic, and Jake, the black sheep of the family?

We’re thrilled to bring you yet another exciting, dramatic installment of the Maitland Maternity saga, The Toddler’s Tale, by popular author Rebecca Winters.

Marsha Zinberg,

Senior Editor and Editorial Co-ordinator, Special Projects

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Rebecca Winters loves a great many things: her children, her extended family and her friends. Besides teaching young people at her church, she travels to Laguna Beach, her favorite spot in California, and makes frequent visits to Denver, Colorado, to visit one of her married sons and his wife. An active genealogist, she’s always busy tracing her family lines. Creating an ambience of French country in her home is an ongoing project. An avid fan of her hometown basketball team, the Utah Jazz, she has now discovered another sport—golf. At least when Tiger Woods is playing. Around 10 p.m. she turns on the TV to watch her favorite British comedies. When all is said and done, she leads a very rich, full life. But she does concede that writing novels adds the extra spice that makes every moment exciting.

This book is dedicated to my one and only grandson

Billy B., the joy of his nana’s life, and the inspiration

for the adorable little toddler in my story.

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“DAMN YOU, Max Jamison! Enough is enough!” Chelsea Markum cried furiously as the dark-haired male at her side drove them deeper into the hill country outside Austin, Texas.

She’d come up against the audacious ex-cop many times before while covering important news events. But he’d gone too far this time. He’d smashed her camcorder, then, to add insult to injury, he’d thrown her inside his blue half-ton pickup, dashing any hope of her getting a breaking story that included pictures.

Thanks to Captain Dangerous here, she didn’t have her cell phone because she’d left it in her car. Now another television station would get the plum story of the month! Damn, damn, damn.

“Your manhandling techniques seem to have worsened since you resigned from the police department,” Chelsea accused. “I wouldn’t be at all surprised if you were advised to quit before they had to fire you.”

For a response, he gunned the accelerator, making her more livid than ever.

“Keep this up and I’m warning you that your days as a PI are going to be numbered.”

“But I’ve got you now, so it will have been worth it.” The rejoinder was mocking.

Her cheeks filled with heat. “Turn the truck around this instant! Do you hear me?”

“Not on your life!” The wicked smile on Max Jamison’s rugged face made him more attractive than ever. It was the last straw.

Taking a deep breath, Chelsea reached for the front passenger door handle, ready to jump out and hitchhike to Garrett Lord’s ranch. But an arm of steel shot past her, blocking her effort with almost superhuman strength.

“You brute!”

In retaliation she tried pulling on the steering wheel with both hands so he would have to slow down. To her shock, it didn’t budge beneath his rock-hard grip.

This was how her whole day had been going. He’d thwarted her chance to get live video of Camille Eckart and her baby. They’d been in hiding for the past six months at the ranch, where Camille’s ex had traced her and then been killed himself. It would have been one of Chelsea’s best segments yet for her weekly show, “Tattle Today TV.”

When Max pressed on the gas, she had an idea he was laughing at her. Worse, her ineffectual jerking motion had managed to strain the muscle in her upper arm and tear the stitching beneath the jacket sleeve of her new Balenciaga suit. This was the first time she’d worn the French blue two-piece linen outfit, classy yet light enough for the summer heat.

With so many injustices, she felt like howling. So far no tactic in her repertoire had duped that razor-sharp brain of his, which always appeared to be two steps ahead of her.

Be more creative, Chelsea. If you can get on his good side, he might return you in time to write a follow-up story for the seven o’clock show.

According to her watch it was ten after four, though the overcast sky made it seem much later in the day.

In a resigned tone, she said, “All right. You’ve made your point. Unlike you, who enjoys kidnapping defenseless women and destroying company property, I actually work for a living. If you would be so kind as to allow me to get back to my job, I’ll overlook this crime like I have your others and tell my boss not to press charges.”

He darted her what she thought at first was an amused glance. But his narrowed gaze held a certain glitter she found uncomfortable. The rumble of thunder in the distance added to her sense of unease.

Though she knew Max Jamison wasn’t anything like Anthony Dorset, one of her mother’s many live-in lovers, the hostile look in his eyes took her back to a time when, as a fifteen-year-old living in Hollywood, California, she had learned the meaning of terror.