Judy Duarte: Christmas Baby: A Baby Under the Tree / A Baby For Christmas / Her Christmas Hero

“I assume you asked Dr. Allan for permission to travel,” Gram said.

“Yes, he was fine with it.”

Dr. Allan was one of many doctors in a large and prestigious obstetrical group in Houston, although Jillian sometimes got the feeling that his practice was too big, that he was too busy and rushed her appointments.

Dr. Ramirez, on the other hand, had been both thorough and reassuring. Maybe it was because she was a woman herself and was more nurturing by nature. It was hard to say.

Gram coughed into the phone, then apologized.

“I don’t like the sound of that cough,” Jillian said. “Have you called the doctor?”

“Not yet.”

As heavy, booted footsteps thumped on the stairway outside, Jillian realized Shane had returned with dinner.

“Listen, Gram. I have to go. But promise me you’ll see the doctor if you’re not feeling better in the morning. And that you’ll call me, either way.”

“I will, honey. Don’t worry about me.”

It was hard not to. Gram had not only raised Jillian, but she was the only family she had left.

After the line disconnected, she set her cell phone on the lamp table, then met Shane at the door. As he scanned the length of her, his gaze zeroed in on her breasts.

Oops. The thin cotton fabric of her white cotton gown was probably a little more see-through than she’d realized.

As his gaze lifted and met hers, a shot of awareness rushed through her. For a moment, she was tempted to let her hormones take the lead, but it was the maternal hormones that kicked into play and insisted she heed them.

What if having sex caused that pain to return? What if Dr. Ramirez was wrong about it being something minor?

So in spite of wishing things were different, she tried to put a platonic spin on things.

“So what did the sheriff eat tonight?” she asked.

“Pot roast with all the fixings and apple pie.”

As Shane set out the food on the table, he asked, “How do you feel about going for a little drive tomorrow?”

“Where?”

“I thought I’d take you to Wexler. There’s a store that sells baby stuff. And since we know the baby’s going to be a girl, I thought it might be fun to check things out.”

Jillian hadn’t planned to purchase anything until she got back to Houston, since it wouldn’t do her any good to buy things in Brighton Valley and haul them home—or have them shipped. But it might be nice to see what was available and to get some decorating ideas.

“Sure, that sounds like fun.” As she started for the table, where he’d set out their meal, he looked up, his gaze again sketching over her.

With the light behind her, she suspected that he was taking in every curve of her body, from her breasts, to her hips, to her belly. And while she really ought to be a little concerned by the raw hunger in his eyes, she felt a sense of feminine power, too.

Of course, as heady as that was and as tempted as she was to make love to him again and experience all the passion she’d felt in his arms, that wasn’t going to do her any good this evening, when she was determined to follow the doctor’s orders about taking it easy.

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