The Christmas Baby Bundle: Novella (Windy City Romance 4) Read online

  “Not patient enough. Your brother doesn’t think so.”

  “Connor likes everything done yesterday.”

  “He’s used to calling the shots.”

  “This was one situation where Connor had no control, as much as it killed him,” her sister-in-law pointed out.

  “It was tearing him apart,” Amanda murmured, thinking of his clenched jaw and quiet evenings.

  “Connor has a sensitive side, but what the rest of the world sees is him leading the charge. He’s the guy who comes through. Every time.” McKenna had more than a little pride in her voice.

  “Don’t think I don’t know that. That’s probably why I feel like I just didn’t come through for him on this.” The heat in the jeep had finally kicked in but Amanda’s teeth would not stop chattering.

  “Nonsense. Hard to say why a woman can’t conceive. We’re seeing more older women in our practice at For Women. Women are just plain having babies later…” McKenna frowned.

  Wasn’t often Amanda saw her sister-in-law this uncomfortable. “Maybe I’m being too personal, but are you and Logan thinking of having a baby?”

  McKenna lifted one shoulder. “We’re not even engaged, okay? Babies are the last thing on our minds.”

  Amanda studied her sister-in-law thoughtfully. “And why don’t I think that’s the whole story?”

  “Every couple thinks about babies. It’s natural, right?” McKenna muttered, almost like she was talking to herself.

  Finally, they arrived at Amanda’s little brick bungalow on the other side of North Avenue. “Will you text me when you get home?” she asked as she jumped out.

  “Absolutely, but give me some time before you start to worry. The Eisenhower’s probably a mess.”

  “All the more reason to take it slow. Bye, McKenna.”

  “See you tomorrow. And say hi to that brother of mine.”

  “Will do.” Amanda slammed the door closed. Snowflakes fell on her hair as she watched McKenna take off. What would she do without Connor’s big supportive family?

  Looking up, Amanda saw the front drape being pushed aside. Her husband’s tall frame was outlined in front of their Christmas tree, where lights blazed. By the time she reached the front door, he stood in the open door, the porch light burnishing his auburn hair. “You didn’t answer my texts.”

  “Oh, my gosh! I must have left my phone in your mom’s kitchen. We were decorating for the baby shower tomorrow. Sorry.” One more thing for him to be aggravated about. Wait until he heard about the car. Amanda stomped her feet on the rug inside the door.

  He scanned the driveway before closing the door “How come McKenna brought you home? Where’s your car?”

  She steeled herself and toed off her boots. “I got stuck and had to leave it.”

  “Did it stall out?”

  “No. It skidded on the ice and swung into a snow bank.”

  “On Harlem?” His broad forehead wrinkled.

  Swallowing hard, she met his gaze. “I know I committed a cardinal sin but I cut through the neighborhood. The car’s on a side street.”

  Hands on hips, Connor dropped his head. She could almost hear him counting to ten.

  “I know, I know. I’ll help you dig it out tomorrow. Were you able to trade schedules with someone so you can make it to the shower?” Quickly she chattered past the car situation.

  He helped her off with her coat. “Ryan traded with me. Do you think I’d miss my own son’s baby shower?”

  A shiver passed through her, icy and unwelcome. “Shhh. Let’s not tempt fate, okay?”

  “You are such a worrywart. Wish you’d stop it.” Impatience frayed his voice. He sniffed her coat before hanging it in the closet. “Smells like my mother’s cabbage.”

  “Oh, shoot. She gave me a container for you and I forgot it.” Could she do anything right today?

  “My mother will save it for me unless Seth or Mark gets there first.”

  The Kirkpatrick men were highly competitive.

  “Did you have something to eat?” she asked.

  “Yep. Greg cooked a pot of his famous Irish chili.”

  Firehouses were known for hearty food. Amanda always knew Connor would be well fed at work. He moved closer until she could smell his soap. He had the power to melt her tension.

  “Look, I’m sorry about this morning. Thought about it all day.”

  “Oh, Connor, we argue too much.”

  His arms cinched around her. Nudging her face up with warm lips, Connor gave her a soft kiss. Amanda’s shoulders relaxed and the rest of her body followed. This was the guy she’d fallen in love with when she was only a freshman at Benedictine College. Love at first dribble. A junior star forward, he’d charged smack into her when he went up for a layup, was knocked out of bounds and sent Amanda and her popcorn flying.

  Hands around his neck, she tilted her head back and smiled. “Either you miss me or you really like the taste of your mother’s corned beef.”

  Connor’s deep chuckle tickled her chest. He rested his forehead against hers. “I’d show you just how much I missed you, but I’m wiped out. Sorry, babe.”

  Taking her hand, he led her to the sofa and relaxed into the worn corduroy, stretching his long legs onto the old chest they used as a coffee table. Big Mike had gotten it as a result of his bundling efforts years earlier.

  “That’s okay. I'm pretty tired myself.” She collapsed next to him, wanting these moments to last forever. But lately, they never did.

  Connor stretched her legs over his lap. “Do you think I got the lights right this year?”

  She knew a diversion tactic when she heard it. Fine with her. Their wrangling exhausted her. She studied the tree. A gazillion lights blinked against the deep green boughs. “Maybe not enough lights.”

  His head swiveled. “Seriously?”

  A giggle bubbled from some forgotten place. “No. You just about measured the distance between each light to get it perfect. Fine with me. I always love our tree.”

  Lifting one strand of her blondish brown hair, he ran it between his fingers. A habit that never got old. “Just think of next year and how different things will be, Amanda.”

  She swallowed. The vision unfolding inside held all the thrill of a roller coaster ride. Scary and exciting at the same time. How could he be so sure?

  “Why are you so quiet tonight, huh? Was it our fight?” He stopped fiddling with her hair.

  She pulled away. “We argue too much.”

  “I know. It takes two, you know.”

  Was that a slam or what? Amanda turned her eyes to the tree where the lights quickly blurred. Connor always liked everything on the table, kind of like his sister McKenna. Sometimes Amanda wished they’d both go easier with that.

  “Nothing’s for sure, Connor,” she finally said. “Until it all happens, we don’t know where we’ll be next year. Angie could change her mind. The procedures could fail…again.”

  “We’ve done everything possible. Covered all the bases.”

  There it was again. Having a baby was work.

  “You say that, but nothing’s certain, Connor.”

  A muscle worked in his cheek. “This hasn’t been easy.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” The words came out too fast, too sharp.

  And they were right back where they’d started.

  A frown ridged over his eyes and Amanda nipped her bottom lip between her teeth. For two seconds they looked at each other. She had to choose her words carefully.

  “You’re right. We’ve had a heck of a time, Connor. I get that. I know this is the season of hope and all that good stuff. It’s just that…” She swallowed hard. Connor hated it when she cried. Lord knows there’d been enough of that. “How many years did we try not to get pregnant? We never saw this coming.”

  “No couple does.” His hands tightened into a knot between his knees.

  “Don’t those early years seem so long ago, Connor?”

  “They do. Five
long years.”

  Her heart pinched. “Wow, you say that like it’s a prison sentence or something.”

  “Sorry. Nothing I say comes out right anymore.”

  Or am I taking everything the wrong way?

  She eased out a sigh. “Sorry, it’s just that we were so happy. Took so many precautions so we wouldn’t have a baby. We were careful.”

  “Yeah, maybe too careful.” The glum note in his voice made her turn around.

  “We agreed not to second-guess the decisions we made back then.”

  “It’s just that sometimes I wonder if it’s my fault, even though my sperm count was okay.”

  But “okay” wouldn’t do it. Not for a Kirkpatrick. “Connor, don’t. Does it bother you that you’re the oldest in your family but not leading the way with the baby making?”

  He blew out a breath. “Don’t be ridiculous, Amanda. That’s not it at all.”

  The two red circles burning high on his cheekbones made her wonder. Connor took his position as the oldest child in the Kirkpatrick family pretty seriously. He’d followed in his father’s footsteps at the firehouse. Had he expected to lead the way in other efforts as well? Sure, Seth and Joe hadn’t married yet, but Mark and Janie had two little boys. James and Randy were cute as the dickens. Malcolm had three children. The Kirkpatricks were all about family. She felt the lack of children every time she was around their nieces and nephews. How uncomfortable was that for Connor?

  He heaved a gut-deep sigh, stood up and stretched. “Sorry, babe, but I have to get some shuteye.”

  She got up to snap off the tree lights. “Wish you didn’t have to work so much.”

  “The new shifts are still under review. Some of the guys like it because of the twenty-four hours on and time off. But lately, they’ve had to call us in anyway.”

  Amanda climbed the stairs to their bedroom while Connor made the nightly rounds on the first floor. Didn’t take long to lock everything up tight. She could hear him slide the bolt in the front door. By the time he pushed back the covers and spooned behind her, she was half asleep.

  “Love you, babe.”

  “Back at you.”

  Some nights they’d slept far apart, so disappointed about the family thing. She liked this a lot better.

  They had to have hope. But for her that night, hope felt as far away as the stars.

  Chapter Two

  The room was pitch dark when Amanda shook off the miserable dream. This wasn’t the first time. She dragged herself up slowly, not wanting to wake Conner. In the reoccurring dream she wanders through a large house following a baby’s cry. The distant wail draws her forward. Dressed in just a nightgown, she throws open doors and dashes down dark hallways trying to find the infant.

  But nothing.

  She finds nothing and her arms are empty.

  Easing herself out of bed, Amanda padded barefoot across the cold floor and into the nursery that still smelled faintly like paint. No need to turn on the lights. This room was written on her heart. Harper had come home to Chicago in late fall to work on the finer points. Her art background had been a big help. First, she’d brushed the walls sky blue and when the paint dried, sponged the walls with a slightly darker blue. The white clouds had been the final touch. Some white fleecy dollops resembled plump dolphins. Others thinned into spiny sea horses.

  Connor’s younger brother, Joe, had made the honey-colored pine furniture. A bentwood rocker sat in the corner, a gift from Maureen and Big Mike—a first baby tradition. “You’re sure going to need it, Amanda. You’ll see,” Maureen had told her with a laugh while Big Mike unloaded the chair from his pickup. “Those nights when the baby has gas and won’t sleep. You can rock the crying away.”

  Amanda ran her hands over the smooth ebony finish. The chair became the first stop for her when she came in from school. Hands on the bentwood armrests, she rocked, imagining the baby cradled in her arms. Other mothers might complain about being awakened. Not her.

  When the plans with Angie were as firm as they could be and a due date had been determined, Amanda put in for a maternity leave at school. Was she tempting fate? The baby shower planned by the other teachers had filled her with reservations. Sure, she smiled and thanked them. But what if…

  If. The word whispered through her mind.

  They’d tried for so long and in so many ways.

  How she wished she could be hopeful, like Connor. Anything was possible for the Kirkpatricks, who shouldered through life with a confident smile and a joke. Amanda was more like her mother who always saw the dark side. Life was doled out in strained measure. Her mother probably approached this baby with the same skepticism that dogged Amanda right now. No wonder her parents weren’t acknowledging the baby shower tomorrow.

  Slipping into the chair, Amanda began to rock. Maureen was right. The motion was comforting.

  Sitting next to Connor in church the next day, Amanda couldn’t shake her troubling dream. She’d never share it with her husband. He’d give her one of those looks. Men didn’t believe in dreams, did they? Filled with the scent of pine and candle wax, the service should carry hope and peace. Crossing one leg over the other she jiggled her foot.

  Keeping her eyes on her hymnal, Amanda tried to sing but the words would not come. Every Christmas carol reminded her of babies. “Away in a Manger” was followed by “What Child is This.” Tears blurred her vision, but she didn’t need to see the hymnal to know the words. Connor bellowed loud enough for both of them, slightly off tune but with a lot of heart.

  When they got home from church, they quickly changed clothes and drove to the spot where she’d abandoned their car.

  The air felt crisp and clear, sun sparkling on the newly fallen snow. Salt had been spread during the night. On either side of the streets were hard banks of white thrown up by the plows. She could feel the cold in her bones. Her teeth chattered for at least a half mile before the pickup warmed up. When they turned from Harlem Avenue onto a neighborhood street, her spirits sagged at the sight of vehicles impacted by city plows. They were under a snow emergency but not everyone could remove their cars. She shrank into her jacket at Connor’s exasperated sigh.

  “There it is.” She pointed.

  “Great.”

  A bright red tow truck had pulled up alongside the Malibu and a man in green coveralls was attaching a chain to the front bumper.

  “Looks like we got here just in time,” Connor said as he put their pickup in park and hopped out.

  Amanda wrapped her arms around herself. Her husband approached the man working on their car with a ready smile and strong stride. Men and women found it hard to resist Connor. He was just so darn nice. Amanda crouched lower in her seat, imagining the conversation.

  The Kirkpatricks had a way with people, and the family was pretty well known in this area. Didn’t take long for the two of the men to be chortling like old pals. By the end of the conversation, the man had detached the chain and hit the switch to retract it. With a wave, he swung up into the cab of his truck and was off. Plenty of work for service stations during weather like this.

  Smile fading, Connor slapped his gloved hands together for warmth, walking back toward the car.

  “Want me to help?” When she stepped out of the warm cab, her boots sank through the crust of snow.

  “Stay in the car, Amanda. You know what the doctor said.”

  The set of her husband’s chin made her climb back inside. Connor had a point. Logan had told her to avoid lifting anything while she was undergoing the IVM. “Not even a pile of books,” he’d said with a smile. That had been weeks ago. Long enough for the treatment to fail. Nerves jumpy, she craved activity and wanted to help. After all, this was her fault, not that Connor would ever say that. He got to work. Every scrape of the shovel made her feel guilty.

  Amanda loved looking at her husband. Back in college, she went to basketball games just to watch him dribble the ball up the court. The older girls lusted after Connor Kirkpatrick, but
she ended up with him. If anything, he’d filled out since college with not an inch of flab. His body twisted with a steady rhythm as he heaved the heavy snow to the side. One deep scrape and then a strong toss. When the snow had been cleared from around the car and under the wheels, he started the engine. Took a couple of tries.

  The darn wipers scraped across the icy windshield. She’d forgotten to turn them off, but Connor did. Then he got out and popped open her trunk.

  “Did you know your wipers need replacing?” he called out, returning with a blue scraper. She shrugged. His lips tightened while he chipped away at the ice.

  Amanda glanced at the clock on the dash. The couple’s shower was a brunch, and it was past noon. The family would be waiting for them. Slipping out of the truck, she slid around to the back, reaching into her back seat for the other scraper. Clearing the windows seemed harmless enough.

  Connor grabbed her wrist. “Amanda, I do not want you out here.”

  “But I can help. I won’t lift heavy loads.”

  “We didn’t go through all this to act stupid now.”

  “You think I’m acting stupid?” Heat flooded her face. Her PMS had always been bad but lately it was crazy.

  His nostrils flared. A couple beats passed. “Let’s just say, I’ve seen you better.”

  Connor went back to work on the windows. She tossed the scraper into the back seat and slammed the door. Tromping back to the pickup, she wrenched the door open and pulled herself up inside, the sound of the scraper shearing her nerves. She took some deep breaths, hating to admit that he had a point.

  Didn’t take long for Connor to finish. Getting into her car, he eased it into the center of the road and left it running, the exhaust a white plume on the cold morning air. He came back inside.

  “Meet you at your parents?”

  He nodded, staring straight over the steering wheel. So, he was still upset with her?

  Slipping out of the truck, she ran to her car. They had to stop sniping at each other. She wasn’t going to spoil this day.

  Blasting the heat, she headed for her in-laws’ house. The warmth had just reached her toes when they turned onto the Kirkpatricks’ street.