Christmas Trio B. Debbie Macomber

me. A whole, separate human being with his or her own personality. This tiny person’s going to be part David, part me—and all himself. Or herself,” she added, refusing to accept her brothers’ certainty that the baby was a boy.

      Cliff smiled. “Pregnancy is amazing, isn’t it? I can’t pretend to know what a woman experiences, but as a man I can tell you that we feel utter astonishment and pride—and a kind of humbling, too.”

      “I think David might’ve felt like that in the beginning,” Mary Jo whispered. He really had seemed happy. Very quickly, however, that happiness had been compromised. By fear, perhaps, or resentment. She wanted to believe he’d loved her as much as he was capable of loving anyone. She now realized that his capacity for feeling, for empathy, was limited. Severely limited. Barely a month after she learned she was pregnant with his baby, David had become emotionally distant. He continued to call and to see her when he was in town but those calls and visits came less and less frequently, and the instant she started asking questions about their future, he closed himself off.

      “It’s not all that different with my horses,” Cliff was saying.

      His words broke into her reverie. “I beg your pardon?” What did he mean? They hadn’t been talking about horses, had they?

      “I’ve bred a number of horses through the years and with every pregnancy I feel such a sense of hopefulness. Which is foolish, perhaps, since even the best breeding prospects don’t always turn out the way you expect. Still …”

      “I met Funny Face today.”

      Cliff’s eyes brightened when she mentioned the mare. “She’s my sweetheart,” he said.

      “She seems very special.” Mary Jo remembered the moment of connection she’d felt with this horse.

      “She is,” Cliff said. “She’s gentle and affectionate—a dream with the grandchildren. But as far as breeding prospects go, she was a disappointment.”

      “No.” Mary Jo found that hard to believe.

      “She’s smaller than we thought she’d be and she doesn’t have the heart of a show horse.”

      “But you kept her.”

      “I wouldn’t dream of selling Funny Face. Even though she didn’t turn out like Cal and I expected, we still considered her a gift.”

      Mary Jo released a long sigh. “That’s how I feel about my baby. I didn’t plan to get pregnant and I know David certainly didn’t want it, yet despite all the problems and the heartache, I’ve come to see this child as a gift.”

      “He definitely is.”

      “He?” She grinned. “Now you’re beginning to sound like my brothers. They’re convinced the baby’s a boy.”

      “I was using he in a generic way,” Cliff said. “Would you prefer a girl?”

      “I … I don’t know.” She shrugged lightly. “There’s nothing I can do about it, so I’ll just leave it up to God.” She was somewhat surprised by her own response. It wasn’t something she would’ve said as little as six months ago.

      During her pregnancy, she’d begun to reconsider her relationship with God. When she was involved with David, she’d avoided thinking about anything spiritual. In fact, she’d avoided thinking, period. The spiritual dimension of her life had shrunk, become almost nonexistent after her parents’ death.

      That had changed in the past few months. She thought often of the night she’d knelt by her bed, weeping and desperate, and poured out her despair, her fears and her hopes. It was nothing less than a conversation with God. That was probably as good a definition of prayer as any, she mused. Afterward, she’d experienced a feeling of peace. She liked to imagine her mother had been in the room that night, too.

      “You’ve got everything you need?”

      She realized Cliff had spoken. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” She hated to keep asking Cliff to repeat himself, but her mind refused to stay focused.

      “I was asking if you have everything you need for the baby.”

      “Oh, yes … Thanks to my friends and my brothers.” Mary Jo was grateful for her brothers’ generosity to her and the baby. Their excitement at the idea of a nephew—or niece, as she kept telling them—had heartened her, even as their overzealous interference dismayed her.

      Linc, who tended to be the practical one, had immediately gone up to the attic and brought down the crib that had once belonged to Mary Jo. He’d decided it wasn’t good enough for her baby and purchased a new one.

      Mary Jo had been overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. She’d tried to thank him but Linc had brushed aside her gratitude as though it embarrassed him.

      Mel was looking forward to having a young boy around—or a girl, as she’d reminded him, too—to coach in sports. She’d come home from work one day this month to find a tiny pair of running shoes and knew they’d come from Mel.

      And Ned. Her wonderful brother Ned had insisted on getting her a car seat and high chair.

      Mary Jo had knitted various blankets and booties, and her friends from the office had seen to her layette in what must have been one of the largest baby showers ever organized at the insurance company. Other than her best friend, Casey, no one had any inkling who the father was, and if they speculated, they certainly never asked. Regardless, their affection for Mary Jo was obvious and it made a difference in her life.

      Just as Grace returned, Mary Jo heard the sound of a car door closing. The front door opened a moment later and a girl of about five ran inside. “Grandma! Grandma!” she cried. “I’m an angel tonight! I’m an angel tonight!”

      Grace knelt down, clasping the child’s hands. “You’re going to be an angel in the Christmas pageant?”

      The little girl’s head bobbed up and down. “In church to night.”

      Grace hugged her granddaughter. “Oh, Katie, you’ll be the best angel ever.”

      The girl beamed with pride. Noticing Mary Jo, she skipped over to her. “Hi, I’m Katie.”

      “Hi, Katie. I’m Mary Jo.”

      “You’re going to have a baby, aren’t you?”

      “Yes, I am.”

      The door opened again and a young couple came in. The man carried a toddler, while the woman held a large quilted diaper bag.

      “Merry Christmas, Mom,” Grace’s daughter said, kissing her mother’s cheek. She turned to Mary Jo. “Hello, I’m Maryellen. And I’m so glad you’re going to be joining us,” she said, smiling broadly.

      Mary Jo smiled back. She’d never expected this kind of welcome, this genuine acceptance. Tonight would be one of the most memorable Christmas Eves of her life.

      If only her back would stop aching….

       Chapter Thirteen

      “Officer, let me explain,” Linc said, trying his hardest to stay calm. His brothers stood on either side of him, arms raised high in the air. The deputy, whose badge identified him as Pierpont, appeared to have a nervous trigger finger.

      The second officer was in his car, talking into the radio.

      “Step away from the vehicle,” Deputy Pierpont instructed, keeping his weapon trained on them.

      The three brothers each moved forward one giant step.

      “What were you doing on private property?” Pierpont bellowed as if he’d caught them red-handed inside the bank vault at Fort Knox.

      “We’re looking for our sister,” Mel blurted out. “She ran away this morning. We’ve got to find her.”

      “She’s