Stella Bagwell

Just For Christmas


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      From Megan Maitland’s Diary

      Dear Diary,

      It’s no secret that my family has had their share of problems lately. Especially where baby Cody is concerned. But I refuse to be glum. Abby’s wedding is only days away and the preparations are transforming the mansion into a Christmas wonderland. What a joy it’s going to be to see my daughter marrying the man she loves!

      And have I mentioned that Jake is coming home? I’m not sure if he’s returning to Austin to play Santa Claus or Daddy, but I’ll wonder about his reasons later. Right now, the gift of having my son in my arms again is enough for this mother.

      Yes, diary, it appears my holiday wishes are beginning to come true. Now if this season of love could also work some sort of miracle and bring Hope and Drake Logan back together again, I would count this a very merry Christmas….

      Megan

      Dear Reader,

      There’s never a dull moment at Maitland Maternity! This unique and now world-renowned clinic was founded twenty-five years ago by Megan Maitland, widow of William Maitland, of the prominent Austin, Texas, Maitlands. Megan is also matriarch of an impressive family of seven children, many of whom are active participants in the everyday miracles that bring children into the world.

      As our series begins, the family is stunned by the unexpected arrival of an unidentified baby at the clinic—unidentified, except for the claim that the child is a Maitland. Who are the parents of this child? Is the claim legitimate? Will the media’s tenacious grip on this news damage the clinic’s reputation? Suddenly, rumors and counterclaims abound. Women claiming to be the child’s mother materialize out of the woodwork! How will Megan get at the truth? And how will the media circus affect the lives and loves of the Maitland children—Abby, the head of gynecology, Ellie, the hospital administrator, her twin sister, Beth, who runs the day care center, Mitchell, the fertility specialist, R.J., the vice president of operations—even Anna, who has nothing to do with the clinic, and Jake, the black sheep of the family?

      Please join us each month over the next year as the mystery of the Maitland baby unravels, bit by enticing bit, and book by captivating book!

      Marsha Zinberg

      Senior Editor and Editorial Co-ordinator, Special Projects

      Just for Christmas

      Stella Bagwell

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

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      For as long as she can remember, Stella Bagwell has loved to read. Add that to being an incurable romantic and she definitely happened onto the perfect job fifteen years ago when she became a full-time romance writer. Now, over forty novels later, she still finds her job a joy and a challenge.

      Being married to her high school sweetheart for twenty-nine years has taught Stella much about the staying power of true love. She and her husband live in the beautiful mountains of southeastern Oklahoma and they consider the fifteen mile trip into town a small price to pay for the solitude they enjoy. They have one grown son who lives in Texas, where he teaches high school math and coaches football.

      To two of my most faithful fans, my sisters-in-law, Dorothy and Denise, with much love.

      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 THIRTEEN

      CHAPTER FOURTEEN

      EPILOGUE

      CHAPTER ONE

      HOPE LOGAN GLANCED at her wristwatch, then out the open door of the gift shop to the main waiting area of Maitland Maternity Clinic. Noon hour had cleared most of the personnel from the building, but she didn’t have to wonder if her husband would be in his office. As the vice president of finance, Drake was a busy man who rarely took time to eat a sandwich at his desk, much less leave the building for a leisurely meal.

      Hope had to see him today. She couldn’t put it off any longer. But she dreaded walking into his office. Since he’d moved out of their home two months ago, she hadn’t asked him for anything. And she wasn’t at all sure how he’d react to her request. But good or bad, she was soon going to find out.

      She glanced over her shoulder at her young assistant, who was arranging a row of teddy bears on a display shelf. “Can you handle things for a few minutes, Tess?”

      “Sure, Hope. Take your time.”

      Time. The word stayed with Hope as she left the gift shop and walked across the quiet waiting area to the elevator doors. For the past several months, she’d felt each tick of the clock as it chipped away at her fertile years. At thirty-two, she wasn’t getting any younger. Yet she was no closer to having a child of her own than she had been at twenty-two. The miscarriage she’d suffered had risked her life, and Drake refused to consider another pregnancy. Not only had she lost her baby, but her husband, too. She shook the depressing thoughts from her mind. Right now she had a more immediate problem to deal with.

      On the second floor Hope headed down a long corridor until she reached a door with a gold nameplate that read Vice President Drake Logan.

      Even though she’d walked slowly, her heart was pounding. She breathed deeply and prayed she would appear calm and in control once she was facing her husband. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was crumbling without him.

      When Hope entered the office, Juanita, Drake’s longtime secretary, was busy at a computer. She hit several buttons on the keyboard before she glanced up to see who was standing beside her desk.

      “Hope! How nice to see you!”

      Hope gave the older woman a rueful smile. “How are you, Juanita?”

      The secretary folded her hands on top of her desk and gave Hope her full attention. “I’m doing well. I’ve missed seeing you these past few weeks.”

      In a nervous gesture, Hope pushed a hand through her hair. “I’m still running the gift shop. I’m here in the clinic every day.”

      Juanita’s smile was full of concession. “That’s not the same as you dropping by the office for a visit.”

      The older woman’s keen black eyes took stock of Hope’s pale face and loose-fitting clothes. In spite of the brave front Hope tried to present to her friends, everyone in the clinic