The Chosen Child. Brenda Mott

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      “Did you bring gloves?”

      Cody eyed Dustin's baggy jeans. A person could hide a small child and two dogs in the pockets of those things.

      “Don’t need ’em.”

      Cody bit back a sigh, “Yeah, you do.” He leaned forward and took the small pair of leather gloves he’d picked up at the feed store out of the glove compartment and tossed them in Dustin’s lap. The boy glared at him, but Cody ignored him.

      “I’m not a hick.” Dustin spoke the word in such a way that it let Cody know exactly what he thought of him.

      “I believe the politically correct term is cowboy,” Cody shot back. Then he softened. He was supposed to be setting a good example, not arguing with the boy. “Look, the gloves are for your safety, like I told you before. I’m not trying to make you into a hick.”

      “Don’t you mean cowboy?” Dustin looked out the passenger window as though bored out of his mind. “How can you stand living out here in the middle of nowhere?”

      Cody resisted his initial impulse to throttle the kid. The ranch meant almost as much to him as his marriage. It might be the only one of the two he had left at the moment.

      Hell, if he lost Nikki, nothing else would matter.

      Dear Reader,

      Sometimes the old saying “Blood is thicker than water” doesn’t hold true. I have friends who are closer to me and who know me better than many of my blood relatives. There’s another old saying—“You can pick your friends, but not your family.” Again, not always true. Many children are chosen to be part of a family through adoption.

      When the hero and heroine of this book, Nikki and Cody Somers, discover they cannot have a child of their own by traditional means, they turn to in vitro fertilization and surrogacy. But a tragic accident changes their plans.

      As so often happens, Nikki and Cody find themselves journeying down an unexpected path. And when a special boy enters the picture, they must take a step back and explore the true meaning of family.

      I invite you to take the journey with Nikki and Cody, and see that in today’s world, where there is often so much darkness, there is a ray of light, as well. We just have to be willing to look for it.

      I love hearing from my readers. You can e-mail me at [email protected]. Please reference the book title in the subject line. Or stop by my author’s page at the Smoky Mountain Romance Writer Web site at smrw.org.

      Happy reading!

      Brenda Mott

      The Chosen Child

      Brenda Mott

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      This book is dedicated to Sam and her lost boys. And also to the women who are my sisters, if not by blood, then of the heart: Wanda Barnes, D’Ann Linscott-Dunham, Judy Meister, Jennifer Niles, Kayla Perrin, Janet Swanson, Joanne Ward (“Sissy”) and Brenda Williams. I love you all.

      With special acknowledgment to retired 911 operator Barb Dimich, The Silt, Colorado and Rifle, Colorado Police Departments, and MADD—Mothers Against Drunk Driving. Any errors in this work of fiction are my own.

      CONTENTS

      PROLOGUE

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      CHAPTER NINE

      CHAPTER TEN

      CHAPTER ELEVEN

      CHAPTER TWELVE

      CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      CHAPTER FOURTEEN

      CHAPTER FIFTEEN

      CHAPTER SIXTEEN

      CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

      PROLOGUE

      THE GLASS DOORS of the hospital emergency room slid open with a mechanical hiss, throwing Nikki Somers into a world tipped off its axis. Bright light and the sterile odors of medicine and cleaning solutions enveloped her, pitching her stomach into a nervous roll.

      Faces, voices, blurred around her as she bypassed the busy front desk receptionist to find someone with answers. “Excuse me!” Hands shaking, Nikki waved down a woman in a nurse’s uniform. “You contacted me. My sister—Amanda Kelly—was brought in by Flight For Life. She was in an accident. I need to find her—now. Please.” The words poured out, nearly choking her. She felt as if she’d been dropped into some strange netherworld, and her real life was back there, somewhere outside the hospital doors.

      Eyes filled with sympathy, the nurse met Nikki’s gaze. “Your sister is in surgery.”

      Nikki’s heart nearly leapt from her chest. “Surgery! My God, how bad is she? What about the baby?”

      “I’m afraid I don’t have the details, ma’am. The doctor will talk to you after Ms. Kelly is taken to recovery. There’s a waiting room upstairs, third floor. Take the elevator—” she pointed “—and follow the yellow line.”

      “Isn’t there anything you can tell me?” Nikki persisted. “Anything I can do?”

      The nurse shook her head. “I’m sorry. You’ll need to wait for Doctor Smith.”

      “Thank you.” Nikki could barely bring herself to utter the words. She didn’t want to wait. She rushed to the elevator and pressed the Up arrow.

      Please, God, no. Not my sister…and not the baby.

      The elevator bell dinged and the doors slid open. Nikki stepped inside. In what felt like slow motion, the car ascended to the third floor, where a lemon-colored line painted on the polished linoleum pointed the way to the waiting room. Nikki followed it, feeling as though she were on an alternate yellow brick road—one that led to nightmares.

      The waiting room seemed small and close. She avoided eye contact with the four people who sat around the perimeter of the room. She had no interest in speaking to them, trading horror stories about why a group of strangers had been brought together in this room. Yet she couldn’t help but steal a glance in their direction.

      In the far corner, a middle-aged woman sat with her coat unbuttoned, her dark hair pulled into a flawless bun. Beside her, a young man stared unseeingly at the television centered on one wall. The woman’s pantsuit looked designer, her nails professionally manicured, her makeup perfect. Nikki saw that she’d been crying and looked away as she sat, perched on the edge of one of the mustard chairs.

      But she couldn’t block the whispers of the man and woman who commiserated with the elegantly dressed lady. She caught the words drunk driver and hit-and-run. And the fact that someone named Caitlin now hovered at death’s door. The dark-haired woman’s next words brought Nikki’s head up with a snap.

      “The other woman was pregnant.”

      And the man. “Dear Lord.”

      My God. They were here because of the same accident Amanda had been in. She didn’t want to share this common bond with them, though she prayed their loved one—Caitlin—would live. Instead, she willed this all to go away and not be real, and for Amanda and the baby to be safe…alive.

      The woman had said was pregnant. Surely she’d meant is. Nikki felt faint, but before she could address the woman, the door to the waiting area opened.

      “Mrs. Somers?”