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Still, her biological clock was ticking away like a time bomb. And she had to face the fact that Sugar Hill wasn’t exactly crawling with single, eligible bachelors.
Take time to nurture your own talents and dreams, Grammy had written.
Her dream was to have a family.
The book on dream analysis beckoned her from the hope chest. She jumped out of bed, brought it back and snuggled under the covers, skimming page after page, fascinated by the information.
Hmm, dreams sometimes relayed subconscious thoughts and desires.
She sat up straighter, feeling rejuvenated and more confident as an idea formed in her mind. Maybe there was something to this hope chest magic after all. Grammy had always been modern. Maybe it was time she stepped into the twenty-first century herself. Women didn’t have to have husbands to have a child. She could have one by herself. She had a decent job running the bookstore, she was responsible, healthy, and she would love the baby unconditionally.
She’d taken care of Suzanne after their mother had died, so she knew she would make a good mother.
Yes, she was going to believe in herself, just the way Grammy Rose had suggested.
She’d have a baby on her own.
There was just one little problem—she needed sperm to get pregnant.
A headache pinched at her as she struggled over what to do. She could visit a sperm clinic and have in vitro fertilization.
Too impersonal. She’d never be able to go through with it. And she couldn’t possibly tell her baby that she’d bought the sperm from a stranger, that she knew nothing of his father but what she’d learned from a computer file.
What about asking someone she knew to be a donor?
Jerry’s enthusiastic face sprang to mind, but a shudder gripped her.
The dark-haired baby from her dreams haunted her mind.
Grammy had said to follow her dreams. Maybe the dream had been an omen.
And in her dream the baby had been Thomas’s baby.
Maybe the dream meant that she was supposed to have Thomas’s baby!
He was smart, intelligent, good-looking. If he donated sperm to father her child, she would know that the baby would be healthy, and she could assure her child that he or she had a great father. But how would she approach Thomas?
Should she try to seduce him?
Nervous laughter tickled her insides. She could barely talk to Thomas without making a fool of herself.
And asking him to sleep with her would be wa-a-ay too personal.
Although the mere thought sent a million delicious sensations curling in her belly.
Maybe…no, she couldn’t.
But she could ask him to make a little personal donation. After all, he was an OB-GYN. He probably dealt with single women wanting babies all the time. He’d even commented that he admired single mothers. And the fact that he was an OB-GYN might prove to be a blessing. He probably already knew doctors who could perform the procedure, and she wouldn’t have to seek help from virtual strangers.
She’d keep the arrangement simple, too. Once she was pregnant, he wouldn’t be obligated or need to have any personal contact with her at all.
She twisted the sheets in her hands, her stomach convulsing in a thousand knots. Now she just had to summon up enough courage to discuss the baby plan with him. And she would, she promised herself, right after she phoned her insurance company to take care of paying for the damages to his wrecked car.
A wistful sigh escaped her, a twinge of sadness following. She wasn’t settling for less than her dream, she assured herself as she climbed from bed and headed to the shower. She was simply facing reality. If she couldn’t have Thomas, she could at least have his child. That would be enough.
A moment of trepidation hit her as she turned on the spray of water. What would Thomas think of the idea?
Chapter Four
In the early-morning sunlight the idea of asking Thomas Emerson to father her baby didn’t seem quite so wonderful. In fact, the more Rebecca thought about asking him to help her with the baby plan, the more nauseous she became. By the time she’d walked the two blocks to the bookstore, her legs felt like rubber bands, and she suspected that if she actually ran into Thomas or even saw him on the street, she’d lose the muffin she’d finally managed to down for breakfast.
Why couldn’t she be more like Suzanne?
Disgusted with herself, Rebecca rushed toward the Book Nook to open up. Maybe she’d talk to Mimi today and ask for some advice. Or she could browse the shelves for some good self-help books. Something on bolstering courage and acting with confidence. Or one on not acting like an idiot in front of men.
Could there possibly be a miracle book on talking without tripping over your tongue? Or flirting for the fainthearted?
Just as she reached the awning, she spotted Thomas driving by in a lemon-yellow Mustang convertible, obviously one of her uncle Wiley’s loaners. A cold breeze suddenly stirred, sending leaves fluttering and her loose black skirt flying up around her legs. She tried to grab the billowing fabric, but it swirled up around her waist.
Nerves bunched in her stomach, and Rebecca panicked. Like a fool she swung around, ducked inside the door, crouched against a stack of magazines and pretended she hadn’t seen him.
THOMAS FROWNED. He could have sworn Rebecca had seen him, but she’d ducked inside the bookstore as if she wanted to avoid him. Why?
After all, she’d left that hurried message on his answering machine saying she’d contacted her insurance company and her agent had assured her his car would be taken care of. He’d run from the shower, dripping wet, to reach the phone, but she’d babbled the message in seconds and hung up as if she was afraid she might actually have to talk to him. He’d simply wanted to assure her that he received the message.
Why was she avoiding him? Did she think he was a big ogre?
It wasn’t as if he’d never been rejected before. He had. Dozens of times. Mostly because he’d always been Mr. Nice Guy, every girl’s best friend or brother figure, and women liked the bad-boy types. Except, in this little town, the women had been especially friendly.
Of course, here pickings were slim. Half the towns-people had never left Sugar Hill. The half who’d stayed had married each other in high school and were now in the throes of mortgage payments, pregnancy, diapers, babies and small-town life with its lack of arts and entertainment. Either that or they were entrenched in divorce. Both comprised the population of his patients.
He wasn’t sure which were more dangerous, the frustrated housewives, divorcées or hopeful singles faced with choosing mates from the same male pool they’d known since grade school. The limits of the small-town life.
Hormones and husband hunting were running rampant.
He waved to several patrons, chuckling at the raised eyebrows when they saw him driving the lemon-yellow car. Wiley Hartwell was a character, his used-car business a perfect extension of the outlandish man himself. What kind of man was his brother Bert?
From what he’d heard, he couldn’t imagine the two men being at all similar.
Just like Rebecca and that sister of hers. Suzanne. The pretty brunette at the wedding.
Though Suzanne had a great pair of legs and would turn any man’s head, something about Rebecca stayed with him.
Her innocence. She possessed a genuine sweetness that had been missing in most of the women he’d dated the past few years.
He ran a hand over his face, reminding himself not to start caring about her as he pulled into the clinic drive. He would be leaving soon. No time for attachments.
Taking a quick look at the Victorian house Hannah Hartwell had rented to house her practice, he couldn’t help but mentally compare the old-fashioned structure to the modern women’s center in Atlanta. Painted a pale yellow, the white gingerbread trim gave the Sugar Hill office a picturesque look, something his patients had commented on more than once. Patients claimed the building had a calming effect. Yet the cutting-edge technology and latest medical equipment and techniques in the modern facility in Atlanta were comforting in a different way. Medicine was about saving lives and the latest in technology, not hominess.
He parked in the shade, Wiley’s reminders about the sunlight fading the new paint job on the Mustang rattling in his head, then grabbed his medical bag and hurried inside, hoping to clear his appointments by lunch so he’d have time to stop by the bookstore for a minute. If he intended to convince Rebecca to introduce him to her father, he’d have to do so soon. Her grandmother’s surprise party was in just a few days. He couldn’t let the opportunity slip by without doing something.
REBECCA SPENT THE MORNING tagging books for the after-Christmas sales and inventorying the results of the year’s profits. The rush of women buying holiday craft books and cookbooks seemed endless. She’d half expected the women in Sugar Hill to be exhausted from baking for the various seasonal parties, but instead, they were planning New Year’s Day dinners, Super Bowl get-togethers and church functions to collect food and clothing for the needy.
Mimi popped over with her baby, Maggie Rose. “Hey, Bec, you’ve been busy today.”
“I know. Thank heavens. I’ll need all the money I can get to pay my insurance premium now.”
“You talked to your agent already?”
Rebecca nodded miserably. “That had to be the worst day of my life.”
“How’d it go when you drove Thomas home after Alison’s wedding?”
Rebecca cringed. “Awful, Mimi. I’m such a klutz.”
Mimi squeezed her hand. “Don’t beat yourself up too much. Thomas handled the accident pretty well.”
“I suppose so. Then again, he is a nice man.”
Mimi laughed. “Yeah, the nicest. Alison hated hurting him, but they weren’t right for each other.”
“Do you think he’s still in love with her?” Rebecca asked.
“I don’t think so.” Mimi rocked Maggie Rose back and forth, and Rebecca’s heart tugged at the tiny little fists sneaking their way out of the pink blanket.
Goodness, she wanted a baby so much.
Karina Peterson and Darlene Wilkerson, two girls her age, waltzed in a cloud of perfume and designer clothes.
Mimi rolled her eyes. “Looks like those two have been dipping into their daddies’ cash.”
Rebecca laughed. “They’ve probably never worked a day in their lives.”
“I know. Listen, I need to run Maggie to Hannah’s for a checkup.” Mimi gestured toward the adjoining coffee shop. “Bernadette and Angelina are running things, but I’ll be back for the art class this afternoon. You’re still having story time first?”
“Of course, my bag of puppets are ready.” Rebecca tickled Maggie Rose under the chin, her heart touched by the angelic face staring up at her. “She’s so beautiful.”
Mimi tenderly kissed her daughter’s forehead. “I know. And if I don’t get going, Seth will be pacing the halls wondering why I’m late. That man’s crazy about this kid.”
Rebecca waved at her and returned to the register, fighting another bout of envy. The bell above the door tinkled and Bud and Red, two old-timers, loped toward the magazine rack for the latest wrestling magazine. A handful of teenagers milled around looking at teen magazines and comic books, already bored from the winter break.
Karina and Darlene browsed the sale area. “This spinach casserole looks fabulous,” Karina cooed. “I’m going to cook it for Doc Emerson.”
Rebecca froze at the cash register, her hand on the roll of quarters she needed for change.
“Isn’t he the cutest thing to ever set foot in Sugar Hill?” Darlene said.
Karina giggled. “You bet your boots. I fabricated cramps last month just so I could sneak in an extra visit.”
“Better watch out. I heard Trish Tieney is out to snag him. She told Elvira Baker that he’s number one on her husband list.”
“Drat. Trish does have those big boobs.”
“And she’s taking a French-cooking class.”
Karina wrinkled her nose and reached for a book on desserts. “I know just the thing to win Dr. Emerson’s heart—a double-chocolate layer fudge cake.” She fanned her face. “Maybe I’ll even dribble chocolate syrup on me and let him lick it off.”
Rebecca coughed and dropped the roll of quarters she’d been opening, sending them rolling across the floor.
Both girls turned to glare at her, and she quickly stooped to pick up the change, pretending she hadn’t heard their conversation. If beautiful Karina and Trish had their sights set on Thomas, she didn’t have a chance.
She gathered the loose quarters and dumped them in the drawer. Karina watched her like a hawk as she rang up the purchases. “Thanks, ladies,” Rebecca said.
Feigning nonchalance, she wove her way to the self-help section, replaying her grandmother’s words—Believe in yourself. Follow your dreams. But how could she do that when she acted like a simpering teenager at the mere thought of seeing Thomas?
She had to slay the dragon of self-doubt sitting on her shoulder.
Her eyes tracked the titles: How To Be a Success in Business. Surviving Summers with Kids. Surviving Your Crazy Teenager. How To Master Menopause. How To Turn Up the Temperature in the Bedroom. The Art of Love.
Unfortunately, she didn’t see a single book with advice on how to ask a man for a sperm donation without stuttering.
MIMI JIGGLED MAGGIE ROSE up and down, trying to calm her after her vaccination.
“I’m so sorry,” Hannah whispered, patting the baby’s back. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, sugar.”
“It’s all right,” Mimi cajoled. She cradled Maggie Rose to her.
“You’re a natural,” Hannah said. “Maggie Rose is lucky to have you for a mom.”
Mimi beamed. “She’s my little doll baby. When are you and Jake going to take the plunge into parenthood?”
Hannah laughed. “We’re working on it.”
Mimi hugged her. “I hope you have an announcement soon. Maggie needs some cousins to play with.”
“We’ll see.” Hannah tucked the blanket around Maggie Rose’s feet. “Can you meet with Alison, Suzanne and Rebecca to plan Grammy’s party?”
“Yep, Seth’s going to watch the baby.” Mimi grinned. “You know, Hannah, if my radar’s working properly, Rebecca has a crush on Dr. Emerson. I think that’s why she was so nervous and hit his car the other day.”
“No big surprise.” Hannah smiled. “Half the female population in town has a crush on Thomas.”
Mimi scrunched her nose in thought, the wheels of mischief turning. “True, but if he marries anyone, it should be one of the Hartwell girls.”
“He’s on the rebound from a Hartwell now,” Hannah pointed out.
Mimi shrugged. “But Rebecca is so sweet.”
“And shy,” Hannah said. “I wish we could do something to help her.”
