A nurse to heal his heart...

...and complete his family.

After losing her mother to a hereditary illness, trauma nurse Wendy Smith vowed never to risk having a family of her own. So acting on her instant attraction to sexy single dad Dr. Tom Faber is a definite no! But through her unexpected connection with his daughter, Wendy grows closer to Tom and their chemistry intensifies...along with her longing for her own family—with him!

TRACI DOUGLASS is a USA TODAY bestselling author of contemporary and paranormal romance. Her stories feature sizzling heroes full of dark humour, quick wit and major attitude, and heroines who are smart, tenacious and always give as good as they get. She holds an MFA in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University, and she loves animals, chocolate, coffee, hot British actors and sarcasm—not necessarily in that order.

Also by Traci Douglass

One Night with the Army Doc

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Finding Her Forever Family

Traci Douglass

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08996-8

FINDING HER FOREVER FAMILY

© 2019 Traci Douglass

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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To my wonderful editors,

Sheila Hodgson and Charlotte Ellis, who helped me

craft this story into something worth reading.

To Laura McCallen,

for finding me in a flurry of entries

and working with me until her departure.

To my agent, Dawn Dowdle,

who shepherded me through the process

on these first two books.

To my critique partner, Coleen Burright,

the best beta reader in the world.

To my wonderful tribe

in the SHU Writing Popular Fiction Program

and my Secret Keepers, who are all

a beacon of light in the storm.

To my family, for always believing in me.

And, last but not least… To my readers,

who make all of this possible. THANK YOU.

I wouldn’t get to do what I love without all of you!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

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

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

“WHERE’S THE SERVER?” ER Trauma Nurse Wendy Smith asked as she and her sister-in-law, Aiyana, grabbed a table at the Snaggle Tooth. The pub was all but empty, and she was disappointed to find no trace of an employee anywhere.

“Welcome!” a guy finally shouted from the kitchen doorway, eyeing Aiyana’s enormous belly with trepidation. “Be with you in a second.”

Her sister-in-law, besides being married to Wendy’s oldest brother, Ned, was also thirty-seven weeks pregnant with twins. Wendy felt sorry for her, and a bit envious, to be honest.

Not that she’d share those feelings with anyone.

Having children of her own wasn’t in the cards.

It had been Aiyana’s idea to eat a late lunch at the pub today and against Wendy’s better judgment she’d said yes. The place held special memories for her sister-in-law. It was where she and Ned had gone on their first date. The pub was also where Wendy’s friend and boss, Dr. Jake Ryder, had taken his new wife, Dr. Molly Flynn, after their first date. Seemed the place was crawling with love bugs. Wendy did her best not to itch.

But at least the food was good. And when a hungry pregnant woman suggested the place that served her favorite comfort meal, you didn’t argue.

Aiyana picked up a menu off the scarred wooden tabletop, then shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable. At near full-term, however, it wasn’t happening.

“Need help?” Wendy asked.

“What I need is a crowbar.” Seemed the only part of her usually effervescent sister-in-law that functioned properly these days was her appetite. Everything else had gone wonky because of sleep deprivation and abundant hormones.

“How about we split the salmon nachos?” Wendy suggested, perusing her menu. “Looks like they have your favorite Peanut Butter Brownie Surprise for dessert too. Anything else?”

“A side of Pitocin.” Aiyana winced and rubbed her lower back. “All the books I read made having a baby sound like a breeze. This is not my idea of fun.”

Wendy hailed the waiter to place their order, then settled back in the booth. “Have you and Ned decided on names?”

Aiyana shook her head as the server brought them water. “We’ve been busy.”

True. In addition to becoming a new dad soon, Ned was learning the ropes to take over the family mechanic shop from their father. Her other two brothers, Jim and Mike, were also busy, shouldering the extra duties Ned had left behind when he’d become the manager. Wendy helped out there when she could, despite her busy schedule at Anchorage Mercy, figuring it was the least she could do since they’d raised her after Mom had died.

Wendy had been just ten when it had happened, but she remembered it like yesterday.

She sighed. Her thirtieth birthday was looming, and she’d begun to hear the ticktock of her biological clock louder than ever, no matter how improbable.

But getting pregnant, for her, would be a huge disaster, even if she did secretly want a baby of her own. Life was hard when you could be a walking genetic time bomb. Huntington’s disease had taken everything from her poor mother by the end of her too-short life. She’d been unable to walk, talk, swallow. She’d died a shell of the vibrant woman she’d once been.

The thought of leaving behind a husband and children was too devastating to consider.

So it was best not to go down that route at all.

Wendy had been tested, of course, at age eighteen, just as her brothers had been before her. But they’d all been in serious relationships at the time they’d gotten their results, so it seemed more urgent for them to find out. She hadn’t been seeing anyone when she’d had her testing. In fact, she’d been ready to head off to college and begin her nursing career. With all that pressure, the last thing she’d wanted was a Huntington’s positive result looming over her head too. She’d always figured there’d be plenty of time to find out later. Then, as the years had passed, and her life had moved on, the time had never seemed right.

Her brothers had all been negative for the gene mutation that caused Huntington’s disease. There was a fifty-fifty shot of inheriting. Being the last out of four siblings...well, Wendy knew the odds weren’t in her favor. It would’ve been a miracle if she was negative too, and when it came to her own mortality she wasn’t the betting type. So, twelve years on, she’d never requested her results, never wanted to know, never wanted to play Russian roulette with her own life. Just the thought of spending the rest of her days like a dead woman walking, terrified of every twitch or stumble, thinking the end was near, was terrifying.

Instead, she’d gone in the opposite direction, living life to the fullest. All to conceal the shame and fear of possibly being afflicted with an incurable disease. Maybe some people took that as running away from her problems or being a coward. Wendy didn’t care. Let those people walk a mile in her shoes.

No sense pretending a happily-ever-after was in her future.

Not when those you cared for could be ripped away from you at any time.

Love was a definite no-go for Wendy. No risk. No reward. No problem.

Across from her, Aiyana inhaled deeply and slowly, her hands sliding across the table, fingers splayed in an effort to control her breathing, her lung capacity compromised by the twins shoving up against them.

“You should probably get on that whole naming thing,” Wendy said, raising a brow. “Looks like you don’t have much longer to go.”

The server interrupted them with a platter of hot nachos and two plates.

Wendy grabbed a handful of chips and put them on her plate, knowing if she didn’t act now Aiyana would devour the food and she’d never get any.

Their waiter’s gaze darted from her sister-in-law’s belly to Wendy’s little pile of nachos then back again. “Did you want ice cream with the dessert, ma’am?”

“Two scoops, please,” Aiyana said.

The server departed, and Wendy flicked open her napkin. “That’s a lot of food.”

“What difference does it make? I’m already as big as a house.” Aiyana’s bottom lip trembled, and her eyes sparkled with tears. Wendy felt awful. She’d not meant it that way. “But I’m always hungry and Ned’s working overtime to make up for when he’ll be off after the babies are born and I haven’t found another person to cover for me at the souvenir shop and...” Aiyana flinched and grabbed her belly, bending over and inhaling sharply. “Braxton Hicks contractions.”

After a moment, her sister-in-law relaxed and dug into the platter of nachos. Within minutes, as predicted, all the food was gone. She chugged down her water then banged the glass on the tabletop like a Viking. The server left a pitcher of water on the table.

“Obviously we need names for the birth certificates,” Aiyana said, chewing suspiciously.

Wendy looked at her own plate to find the rest of her nachos gone too. “Hey!”

A guilty look crossed her pretty face. “Sorry.”

Thankfully, the waiter soon came to the rescue, bringing the piping-hot Peanut Butter Brownie Surprise and an extra fork.

Her sister-in-law deftly changed subjects, speaking around a mouthful of chocolate and ice cream. “Carmen says we’ll give it five more days. Then we’ll reassess.”

Carmen Sanchez was her sister-in-law’s certified nurse midwife. With a master’s degree in nursing, she was sort of like an obstetrician and a midwife combined, except she couldn’t perform surgery. If Aiyana did end up needing a C-section they’d have to use the OB on call at Anchorage Mercy at the time of delivery.

From years of working in the ER, Wendy knew that could be a crapshoot. Thankfully, Aiyana’s pregnancy had gone without a hitch thus far, so she could stay with her midwife, but the ever-present threat of preeclampsia and obstetric cholestasis meant the OB/GYN department was ready at all times, just in case.

“Well, you’ve got my number on speed dial,” Wendy said. “And you know I’ll show up anytime, anywhere, whenever these kids decide to be born.”

Aiyana looked up from her dessert, her cheeks persistently rosy this late in pregnancy. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Wendy smiled. “Someone’s got to keep my brother in line while you’re in labor, right?”

“Right.” Laughing, Aiyana eased out of the booth. “Need to use the restroom. Be right back.”

She waddled away, and Wendy’s throat constricted with unexpected tears.

She’d not expected to be so emotional over the impending delivery of the twins. Everything was about to change. Ned and Aiyana would have new responsibilities, new obligations, new lives to embark on. While she would stay stuck inside her self-imposed bubble, safe and protected and happy.

And I am happy, right?

Sure, she’d made sacrifices because of a potential medical diagnosis. But Wendy had been inconsolable for weeks after her mom’s passing. Her universe had imploded and when her world had re-formed, she’d been different—more guarded, more responsible, less carefree and reliant on others.

Two decades had passed, but not much had changed.

Maybe her social life had suffered lately because she was so busy. Didn’t matter. She wasn’t looking for a relationship. Which was good because it was hard to meet men when you worked eighty-plus hours a week.

These days she had fun, dated, got involved with guys who were looking for a good time, not a long-term relationship, and kept what was left of her battered heart out of the equation.

And so what if, sometimes, those niggles of yearning—the ones that whispered how wonderful it might be to have a baby and family of her own—became too persistent? She’d soon have her newborn niece and nephew to satisfy that craving.

Plus, now there was Sam at work to keep her company.

A friend who was a youth counselor at Anchorage Mercy had been going on vacation, and had asked Wendy if she’d be willing to help out with one of the kids she was treating who’d recently lost her mother. It was a no-brainer, given Wendy’s past and the fact she’d trained to volunteer helping at-risk youth at the hospital, which meant she’d already been screened and vetted. Sam was twelve and full of snark, reminding Wendy of herself at that age. Sam’s father also worked at the hospital, but, with her busy schedule, Wendy hadn’t had a chance to meet him yet. Plus, since she’d only be covering for a short time, it hadn’t seemed like a top priority.

Over her few visits with Sam, though, Wendy had come to enjoy them and looked forward to those late-lunch chats.

Sam was like the kid sister Wendy had never had.

The sound of clattering dishes drew her attention to the afternoon sunshine filtering through the pub windows, flashing across tabletops and sparkling through rows of glasses and bottles waiting for customers behind the bar. The air smelled of lemon furniture polish and fried food. Outside, May in Alaska meant the whole state felt warm and green and bursting with life.

Wendy took a deep breath, enjoying the calm before the storm. She had a shift in the ER later. The controlled chaos of working in trauma care suited her, partly because of her type A personality and partly because being raised in an all-male household meant she’d had to be scrappy to survive. She could take care of herself, could drink and curse with the best of them, could rebuild an engine faster than anyone. And all that independence played nicely into her belief that if she just kept moving, kept busy, kept one step ahead of the game, then her genetics wouldn’t catch up with her.

“I’m back,” Aiyana said, perching on the edge of her seat like a cello player.

Wendy nodded, shoving her last bite of dessert into her mouth. She wasn’t generally the sappy or reflective type, but a tiny part of her wanted to shave off a little of the wonderful closeness Aiyana and Ned shared and hold it inside, so she could turn to it when she felt lonely or desperate. Wendy never stuck around long enough in relationships for things to get that deep.

“How’s work?” her sister-in-law asked.

“Same old, same old. Lots of bee stings and weekend warrior accidents this time of year.”

She went to say more, but her sister-in-law leaned over again, inhaling deeply. By Wendy’s estimation, the contractions were about seven minutes apart, lasting about thirty-eight seconds.

Once the pain passed, Aiyana drank half a glass of water.

“I’m dehydrated,” her sister-in-law said, smoothing back her long black ponytail.

And delusional, Wendy thought. These were more than false labor pains. “Sure.”

They chatted for a few more minutes and Aiyana snagged one last stray tortilla chip from the nacho tray and shoved it into her mouth. From what Wendy could see, her sister-in-law’s belly looked high and tight. Good. As long as it didn’t suddenly drop lower, they still had time.

The server delivered their check. “Anything else I can get you, ladies?”

“No, thank you,” Aiyana said, then put her head down and took another deep breath.

This contraction was only five minutes from the last one and forty-five seconds long.

Wendy stood and hiked her thumb toward the bathroom. “My turn.”

The minute the door closed behind her, she was on the phone to her brother Ned.

“Hello?” his deep baritone answered.

“Hey, bud. It’s your little sis.”

“Hey.” The sounds of a busy garage buzzed in the background. “What’s up?”

“I think your wife’s in labor. The contractions are coming five to six minutes apart and—well, the last one was forty-five seconds.”

Ned’s tone shifted from jovial to nervous in one second flat. “That close?”

“Yep. She’s claiming they’re Braxton Hicks and guzzling water like there’s no tomorrow. I’m bringing her in to Anchorage Mercy just in case. I’ll call you when we get to the hospital and we’ll meet you in the ER.”

“Uh, okay,” Ned said, his voice strained. “Good thing we got the nursery done last weekend, huh?”

“Yeah.” The twins’ room was already filled with toys Ned and Aiyana’s families had bought over the past few months, with a fondness for oversize Alaskan animals. There was a walrus the size of a small car wedged into the tiny room.

After ending the call, Wendy went back out and paid the check then helped Aiyana stand. Her sister-in-law’s face was even redder now, color creeping down her neck and upper chest, the edges of her hairline damp with sweat. Doing her best to keep her tone light, Wendy asked, “Did you have another contraction while I was in the bathroom?”

“I had a twinge.”

“A twinge?”

“More like a surge.”

Twinge and surge were used in the natural childbirth community to reference contractions, a way to train their minds to think differently about the pain. Wendy wasn’t fooled.

“All right,” Aiyana admitted. “Technically, it was a searing, ripping pain, like somebody reached into my belly, twisted it, then wrung it out like a wet shirt.”

“And how long did the feeling last?”

“I’m not in labor,” Aiyana said, clearly still in denial.

Wendy led her outside and steered her toward the car, parked about half a block away. “Let’s walk nice and slowly. It’ll help you feel better.”

Passersby shot them nervous looks, especially when her sister-in-law cradled her enormous abdomen, teeth gritted as she breathed in and out. Three minutes this time. Wendy counted the seconds, hitting thirty, then forty, then fifty. If they didn’t get to Anchorage Mercy soon, the twins would be delivered here on the sidewalk. Wendy shifted into her best take-charge trauma nurse persona. “Aiyana.”

“Yes?” her sister-in-law gasped.

“It’s time.” Despite her bravado, Wendy’s voice cracked.

“You’re right,” her sister-in-law admitted, fear and anticipation sparkling in her deep brown eyes. “Babies are coming.”

They stopped talking as another contraction hit, continuing step by painstaking step toward the car. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

As far as shifts went, this one was shaping up okay so far, but then, Dr. Thomas Farber still had another nineteen hours to go. He was reserving final judgment until after he got home.

Home. He snorted. His modest two-bedroom apartment in the Rogers Park neighborhood of Anchorage was more like a war zone these days, since his daughter, Samantha, had come to live with him. Not that he didn’t love having her there. He did. It was just that he’d expected things between them to be...different.

The counselor here at the hospital had told him to be patient, but it was hard when all Tom wanted was to see his daughter smile, laugh, feel comfortable with him and his parents, who lived up in Fairbanks. He wanted her to feel cherished. He wanted to erase that flicker of pain and grief in her green eyes.

A twelve-year-old shouldn’t look so world-weary...

His cellphone buzzed in the pocket of his scrubs, distracting him. He pulled it out to see a text from the nanny he’d hired to pick up Sam at the hospital and take her home on the days he worked long shifts. The nanny was running late, but it was fine. Sam could stay in his office and do her homework. He wished he could spend more time with her but keeping a roof over both their heads had to be his top priority right now. Sam understood.

Didn’t she?

Tom exhaled slowly and clicked off his phone, guilt squeezing his chest. He sighed and frowned down at his messy handwritten notes in the chart. Honestly, being a single dad was not what he’d expected at all. He wouldn’t change it for the world, though. Even if Sam had yelled at him again that morning and told him she hated him.

It was the grief talking. Had to be, right?

The automatic doors at the ambulance entrance to the ER whooshed open and Tom looked up to see a small group of people causing quite a commotion. A heavily pregnant woman, flanked by Dr. Jake Ryder, the head of Emergency Medicine, and a tall man with short, dark hair and a denim work shirt with “Smith’s Body Shop and Repair” embroidered on the back.

A nurse walked in behind them. Wendy Smith. She and Tom had said hello in passing a few times after he’d first moved back to Anchorage. In fact, she was the woman who was meeting with Sam for a few weeks in the counselor’s absence. He’d meant to introduce himself properly to Wendy, but his workload had kept him too busy.

Following them all was one of the local certified nurse midwives, Carmen Sanchez, and his budding excitement over the prospect of a new case dimmed. He was the OB on call tonight, but unless there were complications severe enough to warrant bringing him in, he probably wouldn’t be involved.

They all raced by the nurses’ station where he stood. Wendy glanced his way and he couldn’t help but notice her long black hair and gorgeous dark eyes. She was curvy and petite, maybe half a foot shorter than his own six-one height.

He had more than enough on his plate at the moment, but couldn’t squelch his curiosity about the new case, and found himself tracking the quartet’s progress across the busy ER. They loaded onto an elevator, most likely headed for the maternity ward upstairs.

Tom glanced at the dour-faced nurse sitting at the desk before him. “Uh, I think I’ll head up to L&D to see if they need help.”

“What about the rest of these charts?” the nurse called, her scowl imposing as she pointed at the neat stack of abandoned files he’d left behind.

“I’ll get to them later.” He backed toward the elevator. “Duty calls.”

The doors opened, and he turned to find Wendy blocking his way.

She stared up at him. “Just the man I wanted to see.”

He ignored the skip of his pulse and the odd tingle in his bloodstream. It had been so long since anyone had been glad to see him, that had to be it. He swallowed hard and stepped on board the elevator. “What’s up?”

“Carmen Sanchez asked for you in Labor and Delivery.” Her tone was crisp and clear, like any normal professional nurse-doctor communication, yet it still sent a shiver up Tom’s spine.

“Oh. Okay.” He did his best to concentrate on the situation and not the woman beside him. Flirting shouldn’t even enter into this scenario, no matter how lonely he was. It wasn’t the time, and this certainly wasn’t the place. “For a consult?”

“Yep.” Fear and concern flickered in her dark eyes, mixed with fierce determination. With a curt nod, she pressed the button for L&D and the doors hissed closed, blocking out the chaos of the ER. “My sister-in-law’s having twins.”

The elevator jolted upward.

“Right. I meant to introduce myself before this, since you’re chatting with my daughter, Sam.” He extended his hand, feeling awkward. “Tom Farber.”

She shook it, her grip strong and sure, her skin soft and warm against his.

Not that he noticed. Nope.

“Of course. Wendy Smith,” she said. “Nice to meet you.”

CHAPTER TWO

WENDY FELT AS if a fireball had exploded in her body. With one brief touch, this guy had turned her insides into a puddle of goo. An electric charge raced upward from where his palm pressed against hers, warming her, making her throb in parts that had no business throbbing.

She doused those flames fast.

Poor Aiyana was upstairs, about to give birth, and here she was drooling over a hot doc—and Sam’s father to boot! Not good. Tom shifted his stance, his arm brushing hers, and fresh sparks fizzed through her body. Trying not to fidget, Wendy studied the metal doors in front of her, doing her best to ignore the hunk beside her and failing miserably.

At last the elevator dinged, and the doors opened.

While Tom talked with one of the delivery nurses, Wendy snuck a closer look at Dr. Tom Farber. Shaggy blond hair—with highlights of wheat and gold. Bright, intelligent blue eyes that sparkled when he smiled. Tanned, chiseled face, high cheekbones and a shadow of dark stubble on his jaw. Her gaze moved downward to his broad shoulders and muscled arms. He obviously worked out, his faded green scrubs fitting like a glove, not too tight but not baggy either.

Carmen rushed over, her lilting Trinidadian accent low and calm. “Thanks for coming so quickly, Dr. Farber. I need your opinion on a multiple birth.”

They all went into Aiyana’s room, where she was sitting on a large therapy ball, rocking back and forth. Ned rushed to his wife’s side, his emotions written all over his face—panic, compassion, anticipation and a hint of excitement. The guy might be Wendy’s own tough older brother, but when it came to his wife’s labor, he was a nervous dad-to-be like every other man.

Wendy was there for emotional support, not in a professional capacity. Thankfully, when she’d called Jake earlier he’d told her not to worry about her shift tonight in the ER and to take off all the time she needed to be with her family. Wendy never used her vacation days, so she had plenty saved up.

She and Tom stood at the end of the bed and he reached across her to grab the chart. Golden hair peppered the tanned skin of his muscled forearm, his fingers long and tapered. Surgeon’s hands. God, there was something about a man with sexy arms and hands...

Nope. Wendy shook her head, driving away those errant thoughts. She needed to concentrate on providing comfort and coaching to her sister-in-law. That’s why she was here. Still, Tom’s scent wafted around her—citrus, spice and a hint of soap—smelling better than any man had a right to, darn him.

“Are you okay, uuman?” Ned asked Aiyana, rubbing his wife’s back.

Tom leaned closer to Wendy, his breath tickling her ear. “What does uuman mean?”

She smiled. “It’s Iñupiat. It means heart. An endearment.”

He nodded, his eyes glittering with interest. “Your family’s Native American, then.”

“Yes. Half, anyway. Our mom was white.”

“I see.” He went over Aiyana’s chart again, frowning.

Wendy forced her tense shoulders to relax. “Anything to be worried about?”

“No, not that I see. She can continue with Carmen, but I’ll keep a close eye anyway.” Snapping the file shut, his hand brushed hers and awareness zinged through her once more. Wendy stepped a bit farther away from him, from unwanted temptation.

This was all about birthing the twins, not drooling over Dr. Tall, Blond and Beefcake.

The sooner she got her priorities straight, the better.

* * *

Tom put the chart back in the holder, then fiddled with the papers and notes sticking out the sides, ensuring they were all neat and tidy, grateful for something to do with his hands that didn’t involve brushing up against Wendy again.

Going over the history and physical, he’d noted that the husband, Wendy’s brother, had a family history of Huntington’s disease. It was a rare condition and one that had given him pause for a moment. Not out of fear for the patient and her babies—he’d seen that Ned’s test results for the mutation had been negative, so there was no concern of him passing it on—but out of concern for Wendy.

He didn’t know her that well, neither did he know that much about the disease, only that it was a genetic disorder and that there was no cure. If something that horrible ran in Wendy’s family, he couldn’t imagine what that must have been like for Wendy, how difficult it would be to live with that hanging over your head.

After the patient returned from the restroom, Ned Smith helped his wife get settled on the bed then tenderly held her hand, calming her. From the chart, Tom had also seen this was their first birth and they were doing well. Aiyana’s twins had yet to drop. Between the multiple gestations and the fact that she was a first-time mother, it was going to be a while.

Wendy moved to stand behind her sister-in-law as well, rubbing a tennis ball up and down her lower back. The patient was bent slightly, supported by her husband, her posture stiffening as another contraction hit. They were closer together than Tom had predicted, and he and Carmen exchanged a glance. The midwife tapped her watch and shrugged. He nodded and backed out of the room. If they needed an OB, they’d call him.

Meanwhile, his pulse drummed a steady beat as he studied Wendy more carefully. His respect and admiration for her grew, knowing what she’d dealt with given her family history, while his immediate awareness of her was unsettling for a man who prided himself on being cool, calm and rational. He’d built his life on the known, on facts and science and things that could be measured and tested and applied to provide relief, remedies and comfort.

As Tom rode the elevator back down to the ER, his mind continued to churn—with the case, and with Wendy. Since her father was still alive, according to the chart, he assumed it had been her mother who’d been afflicted with Huntington’s. How scary must that have been for young Wendy, being raised with that kind of uncertainty?

The situations were completely different, but the fact Wendy had lost her mother too had Tom’s thoughts returning to his own daughter as he went downstairs to his stack of charts and scribbled note after note in the files, working on autopilot as he searched for new ways he might get Sam to open up and let him in.

His heart ached, though, every time he thought about it—the distance between him and his daughter, the fact his late ex-wife Nikki had blamed him for all her troubles and had kept him and Sam apart. Regret wasn’t a strong enough word for the thick soup of recriminations that swam inside him when he remembered his short, tumultuous eighteen-month marriage.

After Tom had returned to Alaska, he’d tried to stay in contact with Sam, but Nikki’s less-than-stable lifestyle had made communication difficult. He’d even flown back to Boston a few times, hoping to see Sam in person, but Nikki had gone out of her way to keep them apart.

Then Tom had gotten the crushing news from the Massachusetts Department of Family and Children that Nikki had overdosed. He’d returned to the East Coast in a daze, to find Sam in shock. His daughter had looked different than he’d expected, taller, skinnier, tougher.

After the funeral, he’d brought her back to Anchorage, vowing to give her the kind of fairy-tale childhood she’d never had with her mom. New clothes, new school, new whatever she wanted. But with his busy schedule and the emotional trauma she’d suffered, their reunion had been bumpy, to say the least. Between all the social workers and her counselor here at the hospital, he’d expected to see more improvement, but so far it wasn’t happening.

It was ironic, really. The fact that he couldn’t connect emotionally with his own child, since that was the whole reason he’d gone into obstetrics. That connection that he hadn’t been able to have with his own child, that incredible moment when new life emerged.

He wanted to be that bridge of transition forever.

Obstetrics was his calling.

Speaking of his calling, he soon got a page on another case, a VBAC—vaginal birth after C-section.

Glad to stay busy, he headed back upstairs.

CHAPTER THREE

WENDY TRIED TO imagine what the three of them must look like, wandering down the halls of the maternity wing. The walking seemed to help Aiyana. She sipped on a cup of cranberry juice as they strolled at a slow pace. Time and space condensed into this hallway, and the next hallway, then the one after that. Aiyana had her earbuds in, her attention focused on the music as she shuffled along. She smiled, punching Ned playfully on the shoulder.

“What?” he asked.

“You made the playlist.”

“I did,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

“Thank you, paipiirak.” The fact they called each other pet names from their native language was so sweet. Aiyana was his heart while Ned was her baby. Then another contraction hit and Aiyana’s face crumpled, her voice shaking. “Here comes another one.”

They returned to the room and settled in to wait.

Another hour passed, and Wendy found herself flagging, in desperate need of coffee. She glanced at the clock and found it was nearly four in the morning now. The last time Carmen had checked, Aiyana had been dilated to about six centimeters, but her water still hadn’t broken. Without that step, this could take quite a bit longer.

She shook Ned’s shoulder as he slept curled in the room’s recliner. He mumbled, “Push?”

Wendy snorted. “I’m getting coffee. Want some?”

He shook his head and closed his eyes again, shoving his head against a pillow.

The ride to the basement was eerie this late at night with the place all but deserted. She walked to the cafeteria and grabbed a cup of horrible coffee that would at least buy her a little alert time.

“Hey,” a voice said behind her at the register.

She turned to find Tom, his blue eyes twinkling.

“You got some too.” He raised the cup in his hands. “Liquid energy.”

From what he’d said earlier, he still had a handful of hours left of his shift. He looked as exhausted as she felt. His name tag was askew, hanging from the pocket of his scrubs, and his hair tousled, as if he’d just gotten out of bed. Which made her think of other places he might look so disheveled, say, naked and sleepy between her sheets. And, oh, boy...

Thank goodness he couldn’t read minds or they’d both be in trouble.

Then again, Wendy had a feeling being around Tom too much would mean trouble for her no matter what, seeing as how she was drawn to him for no good reason. They barely knew each other and the last thing she wanted was a distraction from what Aiyana was going through.

And Tom Farber was most assuredly distracting.

“Want to sit a minute?” he asked.

She considered turning him down, but the thought of returning to the room upstairs to stare at the same four walls was not appealing. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt anything. “I suppose I can, since Aiyana’s sleeping right now.”

“Good.”

They strolled toward a spot near the back wall of the room.

Tom took the chair across from her at their table for two and Wendy clasped her cup between her hands like a mini-shield between them.

He exhaled slowly and rubbed his eyes. “Maternity must be a nice change from the ER.”

“Yep.” Wendy watched him closely, noting there was no ring on his finger. No tan line either. Not that she cared. She wasn’t interested in his marital status. “What about you? Anything exciting happening in L&D tonight? Besides the impending arrival of the newest members of the Smith clan?”

Tom flashed her a crooked, endearing smile then shook his head. “Nah, not really. I handled a VBAC that got a bit tricky toward the end, but it’s all good.”

“Cool.” Wendy gulped some more coffee, searching for something to say. “Are you from Anchorage originally?”

“I am. Left to go to med school in Boston, but I’m back now. With my daughter, of course.”

“Oh, Sam’s a great kid.” Wendy smiled.

“I think so too. Even if she doesn’t think the same about me.” He looked at her, his expression a mix of warmth and wariness. “How about you?”

“What? Kids?” Wendy sat back. “Nope. No kids for me.”

He chuckled. “No kids now or no kids ever?”

“Ever.”

“Okay, then.” His smile grew into a grin and the results were dazzling. Warm, friendly, inviting. “I’m sensing some history there. That sounds pretty adamant.”

“It is.” And that was about as close as he was going to get to her truth. Pulse thumping loud, Wendy stood and hiked her thumb toward the exit, needing to get away from this guy before she did something stupid like tell him all about her Huntington’s. She never did that. Ever. Yet there was something about him that made her want to open up. Which was exactly why she had to go. “I, uh, should get back upstairs. Make sure Ned and Aiyana are doing okay.”

“Right. Sure.” He watched her for a long second, his expression unreadable, then pushed to his feet as well, his movements lithe and graceful. “I’ll ride with you. I’ve got other patients I need to check on.”

They walked out into the hallway side by side.

She’d no more than pushed the Up button when the doors opened. He gestured for her to get on first. She did, then fumbled for the right button, feeling awkward and out of sorts. To ease the silence between them, she cracked a joke. “If this was some TV medical drama, we’d be making out between floors.”

Wendy cringed, regretting the words the moment they’d left her mouth. God, what was it about this man that made her want to act like a such an idiot? Sure, he was nice and gorgeous and incredibly intriguing. That was no reason to go all gaga over the guy.

Must be the stress of the night. Yep. That’s what she was going with anyway.

“Is that an offer?” Tom asked, giving her some serious side-eye.

Okay. The wise thing would’ve been to ignore that comment and keep her mouth shut until the elevator ride ended. Too bad Wendy wasn’t feeling all that smart at the moment, her better judgment apparently having drained away in the wee hours of the morning. Plus, she’d been raised in a houseful of competitive guys and wasn’t about to let Dr. McHottiepants get the last word. She arched a brow in his direction, lobbing the ball right back into his court. “Do you want it to be?”

The elevator jolted to a stop, knocking him into her personal space, making heat spark through her nerve endings. His gaze bored into hers, the seconds feeling like minutes.

He took a step back as the doors opened onto the L&D floor again and he held up his hands in defeat, still clutching his coffee. “You win. I’m no good at flirting.”

Her reply came out breathier than she’d intended. “Could’ve fooled me.”

She followed him out into the hallway. They stood there dumbly, in the quiet hush of sleeping patients and beeping monitors. Even Aiyana seemed to still be dozing, the door to her room down the corridor closed, no sounds coming from inside.

Tom walked over to the nurses’ station and Wendy trailed a step or two behind, her gaze inadvertently dropping down to his rear. Taut and firm, he deserved a trophy for Best Butt Ever.

Ugh. Her rational brain said this would be the perfect time to set him straight in no uncertain terms, to tell him this—whatever this was—was nothing.

She was happy with her solitary life, happy without love or commitment or devotion.

Happy not knowing her test results.

Wasn’t she?

A loud shriek filled the air, the sound of a mother in the final stages of labor.

Tom’s blue eyes widened as he looked back at her over his shoulder.

“Aiyana,” they said in unison.

Adrenaline, like a bucket of cold water, splashed over Wendy. She bolted after Tom, running toward her sister-in-law’s room, her heart racing as they entered.

“Her water broke,” Tom said, staring at the wet floor.

“Carmen just did it,” Ned confirmed. He stood beside his wife now, helping her breathe through the pain. Wendy glanced at the monitors—heart rate, oxygen levels, blood pressure—all normal.

“Looks like we’re ready to meet your twins.” Carmen proceeded to palpate Aiyana’s belly to determine where she was in the process. “The babies have definitely dropped.”

A feral growl emerged from Aiyana and with help she stood with her legs wide like a sumo wrestler, her pretty face mottled from her efforts.

“Start pushing,” Carmen said.

“She beat you to it,” Ned said, holding his wife’s upper arm for support.

“I want an epidural!” Aiyana panted after the contraction subsided while Carmen crawled beneath her to place absorbent pads on the linoleum. Given the midwife’s stoic expression, she could just as well have been taking a walk in the park, not dealing with a flood.

“We decided to try natural childbirth, uuman. Remember?” Ned moved behind Aiyana, his arms ready to slide under hers and catch her if need be. “Besides, Carmen said it’s too late.”

“I don’t—” Aiyana moaned, her head lowered as her belly tightened.

“That’s it. That’s it,” Ned soothed.

“I can’t do this!”

“You are doing it,” Carmen interjected. Aiyana gave the midwife a look of exhausted resignation. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother.”

Mother.

Out of the blue, the word conjured sudden images of Wendy’s own mother reduced to a shell of the woman she’d once been, her once-graceful movements devolving into grotesque twists and jerks, her ever-changing moods and behaviors. That’s why Wendy had never gotten her test results, the possibility of dying a horrible, debilitating death and leaving her family behind when they needed her most. That’s why she tried never to dwell too much on the future. That’s why Wendy coped by picking short-term goals, laser-focusing until they were accomplished. Then she moved on to the next goal and the next. Her goals for the first thirty years of life had been to get through them as far and as fast as she could, with her staunch barriers intact.

Her goals for the next thirty, God willing, were to live like there was no tomorrow.

Because, for her, there might not be.

But with that one simple word all Wendy’s yearnings rushed back to the forefront, making her feel as if she’d missed out on a rhythm everyone else could hear.

Suddenly, the world spun, and Wendy grabbed the chair beside her to steady herself. She was a seasoned trauma nurse, had seen more blood and guts than the average soldier, but this was different. Aiyana bore down. Ned supported her. Carmen waited for the emerging baby.

Blackness invaded the edges of Wendy’s vision.

Then a pair of strong arms wrapped around her and guided her into the chair.

“It’s okay. You’re fine,” Tom murmured in Wendy’s ear, his voice comforting and solid. He settled her, then gently pushed her head between her knees. “Be right back.”

He returned with a tiny little cup of water seconds later and pressed it into her hand. “Drink.”

“She okay?” Carmen asked from across the room.

This could not be happening. Wendy could not fall apart when her family needed her most. Everything was all right. Everything was fine. Everything seemed to be happening around her while she was an orbiting moon, alone. Always alone.

“When was the last time you ate?” Tom placed his hands on her shoulders, kneading her tense muscles, easing her away from the brink.

Food. Wendy thought back to their lunch at the Snaggle Tooth. It seemed like eons ago. She’d had a few bites of dessert, a small portion of nachos, that was all. She shook her head, her mind sluggish, confused. “I... I don’t know.”

“Hang on.” He left the room again.

Aiyana screamed through gritted teeth, the sound visceral.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Carmen said. “You’re doing great, Mama.”

Next thing Wendy knew Tom shoved a protein bar in her face.

“No.” She shook her head, her stomach cramping. Those things tasted like sawdust and paste. Besides, she was feeling a little better now. Not so woozy, head clearer.

“Just take a bite. Trust me. It’ll help. You want to be over there with them, right?”

She met his concerned gaze. Embarrassment washed over her again. Yes, she wanted to be over there, wanted to be a part of it all. It was the closest to childbirth she’d likely ever get. “I can’t believe this is happening. I’m a nurse.”

“It’s happened to me too,” Tom said, crouching beside her, his hand warm on her knee. “It’s different when it’s someone close to you.”

“Really? You’ve freaked out when one of your friends gave birth?”

“No, I freaked out when my ex-wife died, and I got custody of my daughter. Now, are we going to chitchat or are you going to eat that and get over there?” Tom asked.

His brisk tone was the wake-up call she needed.

The protein bar was as awful as she’d imagined, but Wendy swallowed it down. Eventually, she felt better, drank the water, then stood, her emotions and the past safely tucked away again. The room stayed in place this time as she held Aiyana’s hand, turning back to mouth to Tom, “Thank you.”

He smiled and leaned against the doorframe.

Aiyana doubled over again, her face turning a deeper shade of purple.

Carmen gave a thumbs-up. “First baby’s head is crowning.”

Ned craned over his wife’s shoulder, unable to see.

Wendy nodded toward a large mirror on a stand in the corner. “Can we use that?”

“Fine with me,” Carmen said. “As long as Mom agrees.”

“Aiyana, do you want Ned to see your babies being born?” Wendy asked.

Her sister-in-law nodded, her dark eyes glassy.

Wendy and Tom positioned the mirror so both soon-to-be parents could watch.

The next twenty minutes went by in a blur. A primal scream from Aiyana, the sound of something popping, then a squelching sound as Carmen held baby number one’s head and a single shoulder. Aiyana pushed again and soon the sounds of relieved laughter and a newborn baby girl’s wail mingled together into a joyful noise. The celebration was short-lived, however, as Aiyana gave a second, determined cry and bore down again. Baby number two entered the world a few minutes later, quivering and covered in muck and crying to his little heart’s content.

Carmen handled the squalling little bodies, with the help of a delivery nurse, then placed the infants one by one directly onto Aiyana’s chest. Wendy glanced over to see Tom wipe the corners of his eyes before stepping silently from the room.

“They’re perfect, uuman.” Ned stroked his daughter’s head. The baby wrapped four little fingers around his index finger.

Aiyana stared at her twins, eyes wide as she kissed their heads. The boy’s mewling cries became a lusty wail as Carmen tucked a warming blanket over each baby.

Wendy couldn’t think of a single thing to say, her heart full to bursting with so many feelings—love, yearning, sadness, relief.

“I did it.” Aiyana stroked her son’s cheek with her finger and the baby looked up, tiny mouth puckered. Her daughter watched her too, face alert, following her mother’s voice.

“You did,” Wendy said, smiling through her tears. She leaned in to whisper near her new niece and nephew, “Welcome to the world.”

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