Elizabeth Harbison - Mission Creek Mother-To-Be

How many points was this going to count against her?

She scurried around the bedroom of her rented apartment in The Aldon Towers, throwing on the most conservative, June Cleaverish clothes she could find. She gave her long dark hair the quickest once-over with a brush and pulled it back into a long pony-tail. Forget makeup; the kids wouldn’t care. Besides, the less conspicuous she was, the better. Remarkably, no one in this little town had taken much notice of her so far. She only hoped that would continue to be the case.

She pounded out to the street where her car was parked, wondering if there was even a chance that Dr. Cross wouldn’t discover she was late on her first day there.

Nah. He was probably there right now, she thought as she forced herself to keep to the twenty-five-mile-an-hour speed limit on Mission Creek Drive while the clock on the dashboard seemed to move at double speed. Ten-ten, ten-fourteen, ten-nineteen.

With luck she found a parking space in the street and hurried up the sidewalk, passing a magazine kiosk. The tabloid headline seemed to jump out and grab her by the throat: A Wild Heiress! And there was that stupid photo again—the one that managed to make it look as if she and Robert were in a very compromising position when, in fact, he had knocked into the edge of her chaise longue and fallen, or pretended to fall, right on top of her. In reality, the children had screamed with laughter at their father’s “clumsiness.”

In the photo, though, it looked as if the children were screaming with horror at what they’d found their father doing with Melanie.

Truth was, Melanie and Roberto had never done more than kiss, but there was no convincing the world of that. People didn’t want to believe that nothing salacious had actually occurred.

It just wasn’t as interesting.

Melanie ducked her head as she passed the vendor and kept a low profile as she dashed through the hospital door. Ten twenty-three.

By the time she’d asked at the information desk and followed the directions to the day-care center, it was ten twenty-eight and Melanie was out of breath from running through the maze of corridors.

The first person she saw was Dr. Jared Cross.

In fact, she ran smack into him as she entered the center.

“Oh, sorry!”

He helped her regain her footing, placing his hands on her shoulders until she’d righted herself. “Miss Tourbier,” he said in a voice better suited to an elementary school principal. “What a surprise.”

She couldn’t fault him for being angry, even if she didn’t like his attitude. “I’m so sorry I’m late. This really isn’t like me, honestly. My internal clock is all out of whack at the moment. Jet lag. I couldn’t get to sleep until three this morning and then I guess I slept through my alarm.” She tossed her hands up and tried to catch her breath. “I’m sorry.”

“You have trouble when you don’t get enough sleep?” he asked.

Oh, give it a rest, she wanted to say. “No more than anyone else. I swear I’m never late for things,” she said, damning her luck. “This is very unusual for me.”

Before he could give her the kind of superior response she could see was coming, they were interrupted by a buxom woman in her midsixties, with pale hair piled atop her head.

“Dr. Cross, is this the young woman you told me about?”

“Yes, Emily, this is Melanie Tourbier. Melanie, this is Ms. Woods, the day-care director.”

“Call me Em,” she said, extending her hand and smiling warmly. “We don’t stand much on formality here.”

“Em, I’m so glad to meet you.” Melanie tried to ignore the chill from the icy Jared Cross next to her. “As I was explaining to Dr. Cross, I’ve just flown in from London—”

“And are your arms tired?” Em finished with a laugh. “I apologize. That kind of joke goes over big around here. You might as well get used to it. As for your being late, I’m aware that you’ve come from overseas and am frankly impressed that you were able to get yourself together as early as you did. Jet lag can be ferocious.”

Melanie’s shoulders sagged in relief. “I won’t be late again,” she promised sincerely.

“Please don’t fret about it.” Em lowered her voice for a moment before she added, “I have to say, you’re even more beautiful in person than you are in your pictures.”

Melanie thought of the pictures the woman might be referring to and blushed.

Em continued, “I saw photos in House and Home from a party you gave for the king of Jordan.”

“Oh,” Melanie breathed. “Yes, I remember those.”

“It looked so lovely. I hope our humble hospital doesn’t seem too dull to you.”

Jared cleared his throat.

Melanie ignored him. “So far, it’s been a real treat to be here. Almost everyone has been so kind and gracious.”

“Almost everyone here is like that,” Jared interjected. “Isn’t that right, Em?”

“Yes, indeed. And, Melanie, we’re so glad to have you here. It was awfully good of Dr. Cross to suggest it.”

Melanie turned guilelessly to the doctor. “Yes, wasn’t it?”

His mouth cocked into the smallest smile, and Melanie could have sworn she saw a moment of laughter in his eyes. “I can the see two of you are going to do just fine together. So if you’ll excuse me, I have appointments.” He leveled a sea-green gaze on Melanie. “I’ll come back and check on you later.”

Something shivered through her and made her heart pump faster when he looked at her. “That won’t be necessary.”

“I think it’s best.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“In the meantime, if you need to get in touch with me, you can call through the hospital operator. They’ll know how to find me.”

She wondered if he was hoping she’d call him in half an hour and tell him she’d changed her mind about everything. Well, that wasn’t going to happen. “I’ll be fine. So will the children. I promise that at the end of the day there will have been no fatalities.”

“That’s reassuring.”

She watched him nod to Em and head for the door. She might have reaffirmed her decision that he was just as cold as ice, if it hadn’t been for what happened right before he opened the door.

A small child, a boy with carrot-red hair, who seemed to move faster and more steadily than someone his size should, ran up and clung to Jared’s legs.

“Nooo!” the child cried, clearly trying to stop Jared from leaving.

Melanie expected Jared to brush him off in a pleasant but firm manner. Instead he reached down and swooped the child into the air.

“It’s a bird…it’s a plane…it’s Superkid!”

The child screamed with laughter.

Jared laughed, too, and Melanie’s breath caught in her chest. The laugh completely transformed his face. He had dimples for one thing, not childlike little dents but manly smile lines. She hadn’t noticed them before, although he’d smiled politely once or twice yesterday. But not real smiles like this. His eyes crinkled at the corners, making him look as kind as a favorite grandfather.

In fact, for just one crazy moment, Melanie could see him as a grandfather many years down the road. In her mind’s eye, she saw him, a little older, a little gray at the temples, reaching down in the same motion for a little boy with dark hair and green eyes….

“Okay, sport, I’ve gotta go,” Jared said, giving the child a final toss-and-catch before placing him gently on the floor.

“Nooo!” the little boy cried again, clutching at Jared’s pant leg. “Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go! Play ba!”

Jared knelt in front of the child and took his tiny hands in his. “How about if I come back and play ball after lunch?”

The boy chewed his lip, as if considering. “Lunch?”