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Their Precious Christmas Miracle


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getting through the ceremony, anyway. She was no longer certain how she was going to make it beyond that. When David said things that were so sweet and devoted, it was hard to remember why she’d ever believed they should be apart.

      THE BABY book Rachel had retrieved from the very back of her closet warned that pregnant women were prone to vivid dreams, something to do with estrogen fluctuations and their effect on REM sleep. The book also assured mothers-to-be that in a time as emotional as pregnancy, nightmares were common and shouldn’t be taken as omens that something was wrong. Rachel was not having nightmares, though.

      Far from it.

      Saturday night, after the drive back to Mistletoe in the intimate dark of early evening, her husband’s body so close to hers in the cramped backseat that she could feel his heat through her clothes, David had stayed on her mind long after she’d fallen asleep. She’d awakened in the middle of the night from embarrassingly detailed erotic dreams, tangled in sweaty sheets with her body still throbbing in pleasure. Sunday night had brought more of the same, dreams that haunted her thoughts while she got ready for work on Monday. It was difficult to focus on something as mundane as mailing labels when, at random moments, she’d reexperience the slide of David’s muscled body against hers.

      During the middle of one such flashback that afternoon, she tugged at the collar of her sweater, suddenly feeling as if it was about ten degrees too warm in here. Good thing May had run to the bank with the afternoon deposit, or Rachel would be fielding questions about her clearly flustered state.

      She was jarred back to reality by an insistent buzzing, a printer alarm that signaled a jam. Bending her knees, she squatted down to correct the situation. With a little effort, she wrestled the crumpled papers free and hit Continue. The cranky printer claimed the next two sheets as sacrifice, eating them, as well. Swearing softly, she turned the machine off, then back on, waiting for a blinking green light before she tried again. The first page had just printed successfully when she heard the front door open.

      “Hello,” she called, standing to greet a potential customer. “I’ll be right—” Tunnel vision pressed in around her, darkening rapidly to no vision whatsoever as her head went balloon-light and floaty. She thought she managed to squeak out a final word, though she wasn’t sure what, before she fell.

      When she came to, Rachel was too disoriented to know how much time had passed. She was on the floor by the industrial printers, her feet propped on a carton full of paper. May was fanning her with a spiral notebook, worry pinching her face as she spoke into the phone cradled at her shoulder.

      “Oh, you’re awake! Thank God. David, she’s awake.”

      Rachel blinked, still dizzy.

      “You want something to drink, sweetie? Maybe I should get you a glass of water. Here, you can talk to David.”

      Rachel didn’t feel much like talking to anyone, but she was too dazed to do anything but accept the phone pressed into her hand. “H-hello?”

      “You stay right there,” David said, his voice taut with concern. “I’m on my way.”

      Her thoughts began to clear enough for a twinge of humor. He wanted her to stay exactly where she was? “You don’t have to …”

      “Rach, I’m coming over. It’s nonnegotiable. See you in a minute.”

      Then she was left with only a dial tone as May fussed about what to do next. “You probably shouldn’t lift your head to drink, but I can’t find a straw. Am I supposed to have you breathe into a paper bag?”

      That didn’t sound right. “I think for fainting, it’s supposed to be head between the knees.” Although it was probably too late for that in her case. Rachel swallowed, taking stock to see if she was hurt and whether her heart rate was normal. “Really, I think I’m okay.”

      May continued wringing her hands as Rachel sipped the cool water. “You scared the dickens out of me. I walked in the door, you popped up from behind the counter, then just crashed over like a tree. All that was missing was someone to yell Timber! It took ten years off my life when I couldn’t get you to answer me.”

      “Sorry. Was I out long?”

      “Nah, just a moment or two. Felt like more when I was panicking. I probably should have called 911, but I dialed David over at the store without thinking.”

      “No, I’m glad you didn’t call 911,” Rachel said. As it was, she was already mortified. “I’m fine now.”

      She was fine. A horrible thought struck her, making her tremble with sick apprehension. Was the baby okay? Falling couldn’t be good for the pregnancy. She didn’t have long to obsess over that, however, before David burst into the shop.

      “Rachel!”

      May stood, waving at him. “Back here.”

      He rounded the counter at top speed, his gaze frantic and his skin ashen.

      Rachel was stunned. He looks worse than I do. At least, he looked worse than she imagined she did.

      Kneeling next to her, he cupped her face in his large hands, his touch infinitely tender. “You okay?”

      “Yeah. Just stood up too fast. But—” She broke off, scared to put her fears into words.

      “I called Dr. McDermott’s office and told them I was bringing you in. She didn’t hit her head or anything when she fell, did she?” he asked May.

      “Not really, just toppled over.” May sent another agitated glance toward her only full-time employee, trying her best to look jovial. “You go with the big guy here and let him pamper you for the rest of the day, okay?”

      Rachel braced herself to stand, but David had already slid his arms around her.

      “I’ve got you,” he said.

      “I can—” She lost her words as he scooped her against him.

      Mmm, nice. She was reminded of their wedding night, when he’d carried her over the threshold of their hotel room, kicking the door shut behind him and not stopping until he’d reached the four-poster bed. She thought about pointing out that being pressed against him was not helping her light-headed condition, but by then they’d reached his car, and he had to set her on her unsteady feet to open the door for her.

      “I feel very silly about this,” she said as she buckled her seat belt.

      He didn’t look at her. “Silly is when cartoon animals slip on strategically placed banana peels, not when the woman I love passes out cold at work.” His tone was so even he could have been introducing himself to a stranger, but his knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

      The woman I love? Her mouth went dry. She’d heard him say he loved her hundreds—probably thousands—of times, but at the moment, it seemed liked the most dramatic proclamation ever made. She had no idea how to respond.

      Fortunately—and maybe because he wasn’t sure how she would answer—he didn’t give her a chance. “This is the first time this has happened, right? No other fainting episodes we should let the doc know about?”

      “Dizzy a few times, but they always passed after a second.”

      At the OB’s office, he helped her out of the car, his manner solicitous, but his tight grip on her hand crushing. Feeling firsthand how much she’d alarmed him, she managed not to wince. She let him hold on, sensing that he needed it.

      A different nurse than the one they’d last seen ushered them back to wait for Dr. McDermott. Unlike his usual charming self, David was terse, never taking his eyes from Rachel even when he spoke to others … After a quick exam, Dr. McDermott declared there was no reason for worry.

      “Everything seems fine,” she said in her most soothing professional voice. “This isn’t uncommon. You’ve got extra blood going to your uterus and legs now, your circulatory system’s got some adjusting