Family by Design. Roxann Delaney

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      Family by Design

      Roxann Delaney

      MILLS & BOON

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      In memory of Charlie DeNosky, who will be

       greatly missed by his family and his many friends.

      Contents

      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 One

      Becca Tyler limped her car to the side of the road, the vehicle lurching every few inches because of the flat tire. Coming to a final, slow stop, she turned off the engine and pressed her forehead against the smooth, cold leather on the steering wheel.

      What now?

      She’d left her two kids and baby, Daisy, with her best friend, then driven the thirty miles from Katyville to an all-night pharmacy in Wichita to buy a vaporizer for the baby. Daisy’s cold had gotten worse, and her raspy breathing had Becca worried. If things didn’t improve and the vaporizer didn’t do the trick, she would have to take the baby to the emergency room.

      One more expense she couldn’t afford.

      With a heavy sigh of resignation, Becca lifted her head. If she was lucky, the spare would have enough air to get her home—or at least to Raylene’s house in Katyville. She’d worry about getting the flat fixed later, as soon as Daisy was breathing easier.

      The car door groaned in protest when she pushed it open. Cold winter air raised goose bumps on her arms, and she wished she hadn’t left home without a coat—but she was too worried with a sick baby. Gravel crunched beneath her sneakers when she stepped out onto the road. When she shoved the door closed, it groaned once more, and she winced. If she could remember, she’d ask Raylene’s husband to look at it. Thank heaven Jeff didn’t mind doing simple upkeep and repair on her car for nothing.

      Other than the whisper of her own movements, the deserted country road was silent. There were no houses in sight, no glow of yard lights, no traffic or city blocks, just wide open Kansas farmland, darkness and silence. But even in the dark, the tire’s misshapen form was visible, a testament to her bad luck. When would it end?

      A coyote howled in the faraway distance, and she wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill of the lonely sound and the winter night. Looking up at the sky dotted with twinkling starlight, she tried to fight the feeling of aloneness that consumed her. “I can’t keep this up,” she whispered to the universe spread out above her. “Somehow, some way, I need some help. Please.”

      Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a bright flash of light. Thinking it might be the headlights of a car, she turned toward it. But instead of an approaching vehicle, what she saw caused her to gasp. A bright, broad streak of blue-white light blazed amidst the heavens from left to right. At the head, reds, blues and colors she couldn’t name invaded the blackness, leaving the blue-white tail streaming behind them.

      A comet? It had to be. But she’d never seen such an enormous comet in all of her stargazing. She’d never seen anything so magnificently beautiful. It both calmed and energized her.

      It’s only a flat tire, a voice seemed to whisper to her. Yes, she would find a way to get it taken care of, and all the rest, too. It was time to find some answers and make things better. Time to take control of her life.

      As she watched, she could imagine telling Danny, her oldest child, about it. He loved to watch the news, and she’d sit with him, answering his questions—questions too old for his five years.

      When the sound of a car door slamming broke the silence, she let out a shriek and spun around. She had been so mesmerized by the comet, she hadn’t noticed a vehicle approaching from behind. Another chill shook her as the image of a tall, broad-shouldered man moved toward her. She willed herself to remain calm but guarded, ready to protect herself if need be.

      “What the hell are you doing, lady, parking in the road?” his deep voice boomed at her.

      Shaking the fear inching up her spine, she answered. “I had a flat and—” She realized that the man was vaguely familiar, and she waited as he walked toward her in the darkness. The light from the comet was fading, but as the man came closer and stopped, she stared at him, not sure if her memory was playing tricks on her. After all, it had been ten years.

      “Nick? Nick Morelli?”

      The scowl disappeared from his face and was replaced by a look of puzzlement. “Yeah, that’s me. But who the he—” He leaned closer, taking her all in with one long look.

      Becca wanted to die. All thoughts of taking control vanished. She remembered that look, remembered the heat that had flowed through her every time he had looked at her, just as it was flowing once again.

      “Becca?”

      Memories nearly overwhelmed her, but she managed to nod before she turned around so he couldn’t see how he affected her. She had pretty much forgotten Nick, the face of her youth. Thinking about it too often reminded her of the bad choices she’d made and was determined not to make again. Her life was going to change. It had to. Not for her sake, but for her kids’.

      Eyes searching, she finally found the fading tail of the comet and watched as it stretched across the black velvet sky. “Did you see the comet?” she asked over her shoulder.

      But he wasn’t looking at the sky. He was looking at her. Another shudder shook her.

      “You’re cold,” he said, slipping out of his black leather jacket to drape it around her shoulders. “Don’t you have enough sense not to stand out here without a coat? It’s December, not July.”

      “It’s not that cold.” And it wasn’t, not since he’d put his jacket around her. The warmth—his warmth—seeped into her.

      He continued to look at her, and then spun around to make his way to her car. “You said you have a flat. Do you have a spare?”

      Joining him, she pulled the coat closer, wishing she didn’t need it. It smelled like Nick. The Nick she remembered. Nick, with his dark hair, dark eyes and a face that could have been chiseled by a master.

      She chased the thought from her mind to answer him. “In the trunk. The jack, too. But I don’t know if the spare has air.”

      “No way of knowing until we check it out,” he said, opening the noisy car door and reaching for her keys in the ignition. The dome light shed a golden glow over his face when