2

Darla Miller shoved a coffee pod in place and yanked the lever down, stifling a yawn. She loved her job, truly, but the middle of the night callouts not so much, especially when it turned out to be a false alarm. But with her boss on a much-needed vacation, she was on standby.

She grabbed the coffee mug, added milk and the one sugar she allowed herself, and took a grateful sip. Her eyes fluttered closed in appreciation for a beat. How people survived without coffee was beyond her comprehension. Mug in hand, she made her way down the hallway and into the bathroom. She took another swallow and set the mug on the vanity. Frowning, she leaned closer to the mirror and squinted at her image.

Was that another grey hair? Well, darn it all. It was, too. She huffed out a beleaguered breath. Just another reminder that her biological clock was running out.

Tick tock. Tick tock .

Like she needed physical reminders.

Her mother, Lord bless the exasperating woman, verbally reminded her weekly of the lack of grandbabies from “my sole female progeny.” Not that her parents lacked grandbabies. Courtesy of their male progeny, to use that archaic term her mother bandied about, there were a total of seven grandchildren ranging from three months to eighteen years.

But apparently there was something special about a daughter’s babies.

“And I want babies, Momma,” Darla whispered.

A while ago, she had toyed with the idea of going the IVF and donor sperm route. Unfortunately, she was old-fashioned enough to want children in the traditional manner.

Darla shrugged out of her teal silk nightie and pushed it, together with the matching underwear, over her hips. She kicked both items toward the hamper, grabbed the shower cap, and commenced her morning routine.

Her drive to work was short, and she pulled in her designated parking spot behind the small building housing Blaze Maternity Center feeling ready for the day. She had been working here for almost a decade, and she wouldn’t trade it for anything. Each day brought new challenges, but it was the small victories and the personal connections that made it all worthwhile. Nothing beat watching a baby take its first breath. If only …

“Stop it,” she muttered. “No regrets today. You lead a good and fulfilling life.”

And before her boss, Lee Darling, left on her cruise, she had sat Darla down and offered a partnership. Lee wanted to open another clinic and needed Darla to run the Bulwark one. It was a great opportunity, and she’d be a fool to turn it down. Well, Momma Miller had not raised a fool, and with Lee gone, it gave Darla a chance with experimenting running the show.

She climbed the steps leading to the back entrance, keyed in her code, and pushed into the small kitchen area. The smell of percolating coffee intermingled with freshly baked goods greeted her. She dropped her purse on the table and lifted the corner of the bakery box, taking a quick peek. Puffy cheese croissants nestled beside chunky nut-sprinkled muffins. Her stomach rumbled despite the slice of peanut butter toast she’d consumed with her second cup of coffee earlier. A quick glance at the clock above the sink showed that digging into the treats would have to wait, and she hurried across the room to stow her personal items in her locker. But the lure was too great, and she tore off a piece from a croissant, moaning as the flaky pastry almost dissolved on her tongue.

After greeting Mindy, the receptionist, Darla made her way to Lee’s office. She reviewed the schedule, noting a mix of prenatal appointments, a few post-natal follow-ups, and a couple of routine annual visits. Nothing critical. And she personally knew all but one patient.

She took a moment to sit back and cast a glance around the office. It was a cozy and welcoming area, if somewhat countrified. The wall was plastered with images of babies along with thank you cards, and even a few first birthday snaps. Like Darla, Lee Darling had never married, never had children, and she often referred to the clinic as her baby.

A wave of melancholy settled over Darla.

Yes, her job fulfilled her. But she wanted more.

She wanted it all.

The husband, the babies, and the fulfilling job.

An image of him popped into her mind.

Blond, blue-eyed, fair-skinned.

He’d captured her heart, then stomped all over it, leaving her shattered.

She shook off the old memory and turned her attention back to the patient list. The morning flew by and a few minutes after her last patient left, she finally took a break. She fixed a croissant with sliced beef and pickles, added a muffin to the plate, grabbed a soda from the fridge, and made her way to the small garden on the side of the building. Despite the heat, she loved taking her breaks outside. She slowed, noticing a figure hunched over the table beneath the sprawling oak tree. The woman — adolescent really, as she couldn’t be more than sixteen — jerked and cast a panicked look toward the veranda steps when Darla approached.

The girl made to get up, but Darla stretched out her hand, concerned at the obvious signs of distress on her face. “You don’t have to leave, honey, but if you want to be alone, I can go and eat inside.” She tried to place the girl’s face, knowing she’d seen her around town.

Eyes downcast, the girl bit her lip, fiddling with the long sleeves of her top. “It’s okay,” she mumbled. “You can stay.”

Darla pulled out the wrought iron chair and sat, placing her plate and drink on the table. The girl gave the food a brief look. And swallowed audibly, losing some of the color on her face. Darla narrowed her eyes and glanced toward the girl’s midriff, but it was concealed behind the table. And she recalled where she’d seen the girl before. “You’re one of the Garcia granddaughters,” she said, referring to the family who owned the local grocery store.

Wide-eyed, the girl stared at her. For a moment Darla figured she’d up and rush away, but then her shoulders sagged, and she whispered, “Inez.”

“Nice to meet you, Inez. I’m Darla.”

Inez broke eye contact and nodded. Her, “I know,” was barely audible.

Hmm . Darla pushed her plate forward, testing her suspicion. “Would you like to share my lunch, Inez?”

The girl blanched, slapping her hand over her mouth. Darla quickly pulled her plate away and offered her the soda in its place. “Ginger ale. It’ll settle your nausea.”

A deep flush stained the young face. “You know?” Her lips trembled, and tears welled up in her pretty brown eyes.

“I guessed.” Darla waited until Inez took a sip from the straw. “How far along are you?’

She placed the can down. “Almost five months.” Another whisper, eyes down, tears flowing, fingers fidgeting. “It was only … once,” she added.

Oh, honey. Once is all it takes. “Was it consensual?”

A small nod.

“How old are you, Inez?”

“Seventeen.”

“Have you seen a doctor?”

Inez shook her head.

“Do your parents know?”

Her head jerked up. “No!” Inez swallowed again and swatted at the tears running down her cheeks. “They’re going to be so angry.”

“Does the father know?’

“Yes.”

“And how old is he?”

“Eighteen.”

A mere kid himself.

“But he wants to marry me,” Inez added.

Well, at least the dad wasn’t running from his responsibility. But hell, they were so young.

“Colt’s got a job,” the girl continued, “working on the Lawson ranch.”

Colt? “Shereen Finnegan’s Colt?”

Inez nodded. “Colt says if Papi kicks me out, his parents will let me stay with them. Until we get married.”

Darla grabbed hold of Inez’s hands. “Do you want to get married, Inez?”

Inez shrugged her shoulder. “Yes. No. Maybe. Oh, I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice trembling softly. “I’m scared, Darla.” Fresh tears started.

“Of course you are, honey.” Darla squeezed the clammy hands in hers. “Did you come here today for a check-up?”

“Yes. But … if I go inside …”

“It becomes real,” Darla ended when Inez trailed off.

Inez nodded. “Papi is going to be so mad.”

Darla released her hands, reached an arm across the table, and cupped Inez’s ravaged face. “Honey, you’re going to have to tell your family sooner than later.”

“I know,” Inez replied. “Colt said he’d come with— Oh. I forgot.” She reached into her hoody pocket. “He gave me some money for the visit. He wanted to come, but he’s just started his new job …” She trailed off and placed a wad of cash on the table.

Kudus to you, Colt . “Keep it for now, honey. We’ll sort out the payment later.” Darla waited until Inez shoved the cash back into her pocket before standing. “Come, let’s go check out your baby.”

Inez gulped. “Now?” Her eyes darted to the uneaten food. “What about your lunch?”

“I’ll eat it later. This is more important.”

*

Darla wolfed down her burger and fries, finally satisfying her ravenous stomach. She never got to eat her lunch …

After examining her newest patient, she drove Inez home, holding her hand while the girl told her parents that come Christmas, they would be holding their first grandbaby (a boy!) in their arms. At first, there was lot of shouting and shotgun threats, but when Inez showed them the sonar images, the recriminations turned into happy tears and megawatt smiles. Darla left, knowing that the family would figure things out.

Driving back to the clinic, she couldn’t stop feeling a little jealous of Inez and her oopsie baby. And Darla imagined the joy of celebrating Christmas, her favorite time of the year, holding a child of her own in her arms.

How she wished …

Darla shook her head at her foolishness. Having a baby by this Christmas was physically impossible.

But …

She could be pregnant by this Christmas.

Maybe IVF was the way to go, after all.

Pastor Miller would have a fit, but after a while Momma Miller would come around and love and accept her grandbaby.

Almost back at the clinic, she received a call. Last night’s false alarm patient was in active labor, and she spent late afternoon and early evening helping the mom deliver her fourth baby, a healthy and lusty girl.

And that green monster reared its ugly head again.

She drove away from the homebirth exhausted but couldn’t face her empty apartment, and she ended up at Daisy’s Saloon.

Nothing like good company, lively country music, and great food to chase away the dark cloud of melancholy that descended on her when she placed the squirming babe against her mama’s full breasts.

Except the band sang about lost loves and broken lives and cheating spouses and empty promises.

Nothing cheerful about those topics.

“Another wine, D?” the bartender asked, removing her demolished plate and empty wineglass.

Why the hell not? It wasn’t as if she had a family waiting for her, and she could easily order a ride home. “Please.”

“How about you let me buy it for you?” a man asked, sliding onto the stool beside hers.

She turned to look at the dark-haired man with the velvet voice and vivid blue eyes. “Well, hello handsome.”

Those piercing eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”

Dammit, Sullivan Lawson knew her too well. I’m jealous of a teenager celebrating Christmas with her new baby, she almost blurted out. Instead, she shrugged. “Hectic day.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

And just like that the idea formed.

It was a crazy idea.

One she’d have to think over and weigh the pros and cons before discussing it with him.

One that would alter her and Sullivan’s friends-with-benefits arrangement.

But maybe, just maybe, she could be pregnant by Christmas.