[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.But right now, I can’t see that there’s anything to forgive.” He took her hand once more.“Lori.I love you.”She felt the tears welling again, and gently swiped them away.“Oh.I’m so glad.”“Do you remember that first night you and Brody came out to the ranch?”“Yes.Yes, of course I do.”“That night, I tried to tell you something—something so important.”“But I wouldn’t let you.I couldn’t.Not then.”“Can you let me tell you now?”She had to swipe more tears away.“Yes.Oh, yes.I can.”“Lori.That first day you came back to town, when I saw you getting out of that fine silver car, I thought, There.Right there.At last.Now I know the reason I came back to my hometown.” He hooked an arm around her and pulled her close.“You’re the reason, Lori.It’s you.Always.You.”“Oh, Tucker.I do love you so.”“Marry me.Move back here, to the Junction—or if you don’t want that, we can—”She touched his mouth again.“Shh.I’d love to move back home and live at the ranch with you and Brody.That works for me.And my sister will plan our wedding.How else could it be? And I’m thinking that I want to go back to school, get a business degree.But these days, you can do that online, so that should be no problem at all.” She beamed up at him.“Kiss me.Do it now.”He chuckled.“You haven’t said yes yet.”“Oh, Tucker.I’ve been saying yes for weeks now.And finally.At last.You are hearing me.” She twined her arms around his neck and lifted her mouth.And he kissed her.A kiss of passion and commitment.Of love and forgiveness.A kiss rich with the promise of all the days to come—their days, together.At last.Which Child is MineByKaren Rose SmithKaren Rose Smith grew up in Pennsylvania’s Susquehanna Valley and still lives a stone’s throw away.She visited several vineyards in the area to develop a setting for Which Child Is Mine? She hopes readers enjoy the taste of her home state.They can write to her at PO Box 1545, Hanover, PA 17331, USA or e-mail her through her website at www.karenrosesmith.com.Look for Karen Rose Smith’s new novel,The Midwife’s Glass Slipper, in May 2010.I wish to thank Pennsylvania vintners John G Krambof Adams County Winery and John A Nordbergof Laurel Mountain Vineyard and Winery, whoso patiently answered my research questions.PrologueAs Chase Remmington held his wife’s hand and coached her through another contraction, adrenaline rushed through him, feeding his excitement and concern over Fran.In scrubs with a cap pulled over his brown hair, he was sweating, although the January ice storm was freezing everything in sight outside.Driving to the community hospital not far from Washington, D.C.’s boundaries had been downright dangerous.Although this hospital had been closer to their home and seemed friendly when they’d attended parenting classes, now Chase wished he had taken Fran to a bigger facility.There wasn’t enough staff here tonight, and O.B.was overcrowded with women who’d probably come to the hospital in the early stages of labor afraid the weather would keep them homebound later.The labor and delivery unit was so overcrowded, two women in labor lay on beds in the hall.Fran was sharing this room with a younger woman who looked to be in her early twenties.Only one nurse was tending to the two women because of the shortage of help.Before that nurse had closed the curtain between the two beds, Chase had gotten a glimpse of the younger woman.No one was with her.Chase couldn’t imagine letting a woman go through this alone.From his vantage point of thirty-five, she seemed too young to be having a baby…too young for the responsibilities a child would bring.He and Fran had wanted their baby, but even he was awed by the monumental immensities of parenting.Fran’s obstetrician rushed into the room.Dr.Fenneker was a harried-looking woman tonight, with ashblond hair straggling from under her scrub cap and tortoiseshell glasses perched high on her nose.As Dr.Fenneker examined Fran, the nurse who had been guiding the other patient through her breathing and contractions called from behind the curtain at Chase’s back, “This baby’s crowning!”“This one is, too.You’re going to have to deliver Mrs.Kendall,” Dr.Fenneker returned.The nurse threw back the curtain between the beds and her voice was shaky.“Are you sure I have to do the delivery? Dr.Singer said he’d be in—”“Dr.Singer is delivering twins down in two.You can do this.If Fran gives me two good pushes and gets this baby out, I’ll help you.”“I have to push!” Mrs.Kendall announced in a strained voice.Chase heard the fear, but concentrated on Fran’s frantic squeeze of his hand.“Easy,” he whispered to her.“The baby’s coming,” the nurse called.“So is this one,” Dr.Fenneker muttered in a wry tone from the foot of Fran’s bed.“Do what you were taught.I’ll be over as soon as I can.”Just then Fran let out a piercing cry and pushed with all her might.Chase could almost feel her pain and just wanted it over.Seconds later, Dr.Fenneker was easing the baby from Fran’s body.“You have a little girl,” she announced triumphantly.Love overwhelmed Chase for both his wife and the child…his daughter.“This one’s a girl, too,” the nurse at the second bed said shakily, as both women suctioned and cleaned the babies, then clamped the umbilical cords.Bending toward Fran, Chase murmured everything he was feeling.After the doctor cut the umbilical cord, she laid their baby on a cart at the foot of both beds beside Mrs.Kendall’s new daughter.Then she helped Fran deliver the afterbirth.Suddenly the lights flickered, and the delivery room as well as the hall went dark.Gripping his wife’s hand, Chase assured her, “It’s all right.The lights will be back on in a minute.Certainly there’s a backup generator.”There was a shout from the hall.“The generator’s not taking over.We’re checking it [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]