A Baby For Christmas. Marie Ferrarella

his siblings had not just gotten married in a short amount of time, but had acquired babies, as well. It didn’t seem probable.

      “Are you pulling my leg?” she asked him.

      “Why would I do that?” he asked.

      Amy shrugged, at a loss as to how to explain her bewilderment. “I don’t know. I guess because this all sounds a little fantastic.”

      Connor grinned at her, then glanced down at the baby in his arms—now sound asleep.

      “You have a point,” he agreed, then added, “But it’s the truth. Since you’re going to be staying here awhile, you’ll get to see this for yourself. All of them will be here for Sunday dinner.”

      He had his family coming together on Sundays, she thought. She’d only be in the way. “I’ll be imposing,” she protested.

      “No,” he told her firmly, “you’ll be here.” There was no room for argument in his voice. “Now stop trying to argue with me or you’ll wind up waking up your son and I just got him to sleep.”

      Amy shook her head, her eyes misting again. “I don’t deserve you, Connor.” She lightly brushed her lips against his cheek.

      “What you don’t deserve,” he told her, doing his best not to react to the fleeting kiss and the warm glow it created within him, “is what happened to you before. But that’s all in the past now.” He spoke softly so as not to wake Jamie. “Like my dad used to like to say, today is the first day of the rest of your life. Doesn’t matter what happened before. What matters is what you do with now—and what you do with tomorrow.”

      “You really mean it?” she asked, as if Connor’s words were suddenly beginning to sink in. “I can stay here for now?”

      He noticed that some of her color was finally beginning to come back to her cheeks. She didn’t seem quite as stricken as she had when she’d first walked in.

      “For now. And for much longer than that,” he answered. “I can do it with hand puppets if you’d like, if it gets the message across to you any better.”

      Connor with hand puppets. She laughed at the image that created in her head. “No, that’s not necessary. Message received, thank you.”

      “No,” Connor contradicted, “thank you. The house was getting quieter than a tomb just before you got here. Disturbingly quiet,” he emphasized. “Even when Rita’s here, it’s still eerily quiet. Rita’s not exactly given to chattering endlessly.

      “After growing up in a house full of siblings, usually with them arguing over something, all this peace and quiet is really getting on my nerves. I was thinking about getting a dog just before you got here. A yappy dog.”

      Amy visibly brightened at the idea of a four-legged pet running around. “I always wanted a dog,” she confessed. “But my parents always said they were too much trouble. And I won’t tell you what Clay had to say about getting a dog.”

      Connor frowned at the mention of Amy’s estranged husband. “I’m guessing probably the same thing he had to say about having a baby.”

      She looked surprised that he had hit the nail right on the head the way he had.

      “Yes,” she admitted ruefully. “He did.” She looked down at her sleeping son. “If it had been up to Clay, Jamie wouldn’t be here—and there would have been this huge, awful gaping hole in my heart.”

      “Well, good thing for your heart he’s here,” Connor said in a cheerful voice, deliberately steering her away from the somber subject to something lighter. “Now why don’t you go back to your supper and finish eating it while I take care of Jamie? You need to build up your strength.”

      “How did you know I didn’t finish eating?” she asked in surprise.

      “Because I’m the oldest in my family and I know everything,” he said simply. “Now go and finish your supper—or there’ll be no dessert.”

      He was rewarded with a soft laugh as Amy turned away to go back to the kitchen and her supper.

      “Don’t worry, Jamie,” he whispered to the sleeping baby in his arms. “Your mom’s going to be all right. We’re going to take care of her, you and I.”

      Jamie made a little noise, as if in response, but went on sleeping.

       Chapter Four

      This was more like it, Connor thought later that evening, after he’d cleared away the dishes and then come back into the living room to keep Amy and her son company. Although there certainly wasn’t much of a commotion, he found the little sounds of ongoing life extremely comforting.

      He swiftly began to realize that he wasn’t meant for the solitary life. Amy and her son had appeared just in time. She might think that he was rendering her a service, taking her in this way, but the way he saw it, she was actually saving him. Saving him from a life of soul-draining desolation.

      “Why don’t you and Jamie spend the night in the guest bedroom down here for tonight?” Connor suggested when it came time to call it an evening. “I’ll move the cradle in next to the bed, and then tomorrow I can get the crib out of the attic and set it up next to the guest bedroom upstairs.” He smiled as he remembered each of the babies taking their turn sleeping in that room. “It seems to be the go-to bedroom for all our infant guests. And if we leave the cradle down here, you can keep Jamie close by during the daytime.”

      The man had obviously thought of everything, Amy realized. She was more than a little gratified as she walked into the guest room. He was right behind her, bringing in the cradle.

      She had no idea how to begin to thank him.

      “You really are a very good man, Connor,” she told him.

      Connor saw no reason to take undue credit. The way he saw it, he hadn’t done anything that was out of the ordinary. “It’s family, Amy. You do what you have to do for family.”

      “But I’m not your family,” she pointed out.

      Connor shrugged. “A technicality.”

      Amy’s smile turned sad around the edges as she said, “Not everyone feels that way.”

      He could tell she was thinking about Clay, and although he wanted to tell her the man wasn’t worth a single one of her tears or even a moment’s worth of regret, Connor knew it wasn’t his place to say that to her. For all he knew, she still loved Clay and she was still married to the man.

      With that in mind, he tried to be supportive. “He might still come looking for you, you know.”

      Oh Lord, with all her heart, she hoped not.

      “If he does, it’s not because he loves me. That ship sailed a long time ago. If he does come looking for me, it’s only because he thinks of me as his property and his ego can’t abide the thought that I’d actually leave him.”

      “But he threw you out,” he reminded Amy.

      She shook her head, overruling his point. “That doesn’t matter. He threw me out, but I think that in Clay’s mind I should be begging him to take me back.”

      And that brought them to the major question that had been nagging at him since she’d walked in. “And do you want him to?”

      Amy’s answer was quick and emphatic. “No! I’ve done my penance,” she told Connor with feeling. “And I’ve finally come to my senses.”

      The smile that curved his mouth was a reflection of the warmth he was feeling inside. “Glad to hear that,” he said with enthusiasm. Then, not to appear as if he was dwelling on what she’d just said, he turned to a more practical subject. “I brought you new linens and some fresh towels.” He pointed to both