Baby Dreams. Raye Morgan

I’m about to have…I mean, I’m…oh dear, it’s just that…don’t you see? Can’t you tell?”

       “Margaret, my precious one, you’re not…I say, you can’t mean…that is, you’re not saying that you…”

       “Yes! Oh, my love, it’s true! We’ll need a new wing on the old mansion.”

       “Oh, my dearest. You’ve made me the happiest man in the world. At last, our love will be complete.”

       “Yes, Reginald. At last. At long, long, last.”

      The music in the soundtrack swelled with triumph and joy as “The End” swept across the screen, and Cami Bishop reached for another handkerchief at the same time she switched off the TV with the remote. She sniffed as she dabbed at her eyes. Looking around the nest she’d made for herself while watching the old movie, she noticed there were far too many used tissues littering the couch. Even for a rainy Saturday, this was a bit too much.

      Listening to the early spring rain on the roof while sitting around in her pajamas and sobbing over happy endings was a guilty pleasure she only indulged in on days like this. There was just something about people falling in love and having babies that sent her into orbit.

      “Maybe,” she noted dryly to herself, “that’s because it seems more and more like fantasy, something that could never happen to me.”

      Once, it had seemed a sure thing. She’d wasted years on a relationship that had evaporated when she’d finally tried to pin it down. Now she felt like someone running for a bus that was picking up speed and pulling away.

      But self-pity wasn’t her style, and she brushed away maudlin thoughts, pulling back her thick, curling blond hair and shoving a band around it, keeping it out of her eyes while she steeled herself to fight off the wave of weariness that seemed to be tugging at her senses.

      The sound of her mail delivery hitting the floor of her entryway brought a quick surge of relief. At last, something to think about besides the babies that she would probably never have.

      Jumping up, she padded to the door in her panda bear slippers and bent to retrieve the stack of magazines and envelopes.

      “A bill from the phone company, a bill from the department store, a magazine on organic gardening, a flyer from my dentist…”

      And then, a pink envelope with no return address, but heavily scented with a familiar smell. What was that? Baby powder? She held the envelope for a moment, feeling the texture of the linen paper in her hand. Then, holding it up to her hall light to see the shape of the card inside, she reveled in anticipation.

      What could it be? An announcement of some sort? An invitation?

      Her heart was beating just a little faster than it had a moment before. This was going to be something good. She could feel it. This was going to change her life.

      “Yes!” she said under her breath. “Whatever it is, yes!”

      Quickly she grabbed her letter opener and made a slit along the top of the envelope. The card that fell out was shaped like a cunning duck, wearing a tiny pink satin bow at his throat and holding a frilly umbrella. “A Baby Shower” the caption read. “We’re excited, ‘cuz you’re definitely invited!”

      Cami’s heart fell, along with her shoulders. “No,” she groaned, closing her eyes for a moment. “Not another baby shower.”

      Was everyone in the country having babies except for her?

      Flipping open the card, she braced herself. “Come help welcome a new little person,” the card read. Her gaze slipped down to the handwritten note at the bottom of the page. “You’ll notice there’s no phone number for an RSVP. That’s because you will be here. Excuses are not an option. Cami, I’m dying to see you. Eight years is too long.”

      Sara Parker. Her college roommate. Despite everything, a smile curled Cami’s wide, generous mouth. Turning to her desk, she rummaged in a drawer and pulled out a framed picture of four young women smiling at the camera, their faces full of hope.

      Sara and Hailey and J.J…and Cami herself. So young. The Fab Four, they’d called themselves. It seemed like yesterday, and yet…so much had happened since then. That youthful optimism was hard to muster up lately.

      And now Sara was going to be the first of their group to have a baby. Cami couldn’t help but feel a twinge at that news. Back in the old days, Cami had been the one who had been full of dreams of romance and making a family. The others had laughed at her. They’d all had other goals—careers, travel, adventure. Hailey was going to study art in Paris. J.J. planned a career in journalism. Sara was going to take over her father’s business—and then she was going to marry someone with the potential for real glory—maybe even the future president—they’d all said so. Smart and elegant, she’d make the perfect First Lady. And now, here she was having a baby shower.

      Cami looked down at her wrinkled pajamas and her panda bear slippers and sighed. It wasn’t that she was a failure. After all, she was busy publishing and editing a successful specialty magazine, and doing a darn good job of it, if she did say so herself. Still, there was no longer a man in her life—hadn’t been for ages.

      “Maybe there never will be,” she whispered, looking about at her lonely home. No husband. No babies. She was thirty. Was this it? Had she missed her chance? Would there never be a Reginald in her life?

      “Oh, grow up!” she told herself disgustedly. “There is no Reginald, you dreamer. Face reality. Life and romance just don’t mix, not in the real world.”

      There. That settled it. She needed one of these little pep talks every now and then. But at the same time, she was happy for her friend—her best friend. And full of resolve.

      Yes, she would go to the baby shower. She was only human, and it wouldn’t be easy, seeing Sara’s happiness when she felt so left out. But she would do it. She had to.

      The address on the card told her Sara was still living in Denver. She would drive there, she decided quickly. And suddenly she was filled with excitement. To see Sara again, and to maybe even see her new baby—that was going to be special. She could hardly wait.

      Now what was she going to wear? Panda slippers were out. If she was going to portray an image of success and competence, she would need a new wardrobe. Gee, what a shame!

       One

      The snow was going to get bad. There was no way around it. It was fixing to storm. By midnight, the roads would be impassable. If he wanted to take one last run up the mountain, he’d best get to it.

      Rafe Lonewolf strapped on his holster and put his service revolver in place, then shrugged into his heavy down jacket, pushed his hat onto his head and stepped out into the icy wind, heading for his blue-and-white unit.

      A silver sedan was passing. It slowed to a stop and the window rolled down.

      “Hey, good-lookin’,” called out the pretty young woman in the driver’s seat. A ruff of fur framed her face, just showing a hint of the long, black braid that was coiled at the crown of her head. Slanted dark eyes gave her an exotic look. “Want to come over for some hot coffee before you go?”

      “No thanks, Sally,” he called, pausing and rocking back on his heels to nod to her. “I’m just going to make a run up to the ridge to make sure the Santos place is locked up for the night. I’ve only got one more hour on duty. Then I’m going to turn in.”

      “Okay,” she said, smiling at him playfully. “Then come on over after you get back. It’s going to be a cold night. You’re going to need something to warm you up.” Her mischievous eyes sparkled, telling him she had more than coffee in mind.

      He paused,