Myrna Mackenzie - A Very Special Delivery

Mick warned.

Laura looked surprised. “I don’t intend to marry at all.”

Mick’s eyes seemed to turn fiercer than before, but he only gave her a quick nod. He gently touched her baby’s cheek, then he took Laura’s hand in his and studied it, as if remembering the hours they’d spent with their fingers linked.

Carefully he curled Laura’s fingers closed. “Sleep,” he whispered. “Rest. Have a good life.”

Laura watched him disappear. Mick wasn’t the first man who’d walked out of her life. Her father had walked away many times. Her baby’s father had left. So she shouldn’t feel sad to see Mick leave. Heavens, she didn’t even know him! Even so, he wasn’t a man she would easily forget.

“I hope there’s nothing to this imprinting thing, sweetie,” Laura crooned to her child. “Don’t go getting attached to Mick. Just don’t.”

Maitland Maternity: The Prodigal Children

The Inheritance by Marie Ferrarella

Silhouette Single Title

A Very Special Delivery by Myrna Mackenzie

SR #1540

The Missing Maitland by Stella Bagwell

SR #1546

www.millsandboon.co.uk

winner of the Holt Medallion honoring outstanding literary talent, has always been fascinated by the belief that within every man is a hero, and inside every woman lives a heroine. She loves to write about ordinary people making extraordinary dreams come true. A former teacher, Myrna lives in the suburbs of Chicago with her husband—who was her high school sweetheart—and her two sons. She believes in love, laughter, music, vacations to the mountains, watching the stars, anything unattached to the words physical fitness and letting dust balls gather where they may. Readers can write to Myrna at P.O. Box 225, LaGrange, IL 60525-0225.

MEGAN MAITLAND:

Matriarch of the Maitland family. Her life had been filled with sorrow, excitement and joy. Once she was reunited with her long-lost son, she’d thought all would be well. But now strange things were happening at her clinic, and she wasn’t sure who was behind the mystery. Was her dream of a maternity clinic going to fail?

JANELLE MAITLAND:

The oldest of black sheep Robert Maitland’s children. Ambitious and grasping, she’d stolen and blackmailed and lied to gain the Maitland money. She’d been captured and sent to jail, but she has broken out. Could she be behind the incidents? And was she representative of all the prodigal Maitlands?

RAFE MAITLAND:

The youngest of Robert’s children. Hardworking rancher. He’d always lived life alone, but in the past few months he’d acquired a daughter—and a wife! Now he would do anything to protect his family….

LAURA MAITLAND:

Robert’s third child. Vulnerable new mother. She’d swallowed her pride to ask for help with her child. She’d vowed never to depend on another man again, but Mick Hannon was very hard to resist….

LUKE MAITLAND:

Robert’s second child. Even investigative reporter Blossom Woodward couldn’t find anything out about his past. Or his future…

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

“I—I’m sorry, but I think I’ve waited too long. Please help me. I’m going to have my baby. Right now.”

The soft, shaky words caught Mick Hannon’s attention and he spun from where he’d been reviewing a set of blueprints outside Austin’s Maitland Maternity clinic to see a pale, delicate woman with long brown hair swaying on her feet. Her eyes were wide with distress, her arms cradled her abdomen. She was staring beseechingly at one of the gardeners who’d been trimming the bushes at this end of the long drive.

Just at that moment, the woman sucked in a deep breath and a low moan spilled from her pale lips. Her knees began to buckle.

The unfortunate gardener’s eyes went round and scared. He didn’t move.

“Hell,” Mick said, and he threw off his hard hat and rushed forward, slipping his hand behind the woman’s back to support her as she began to slide downward.

“Easy, darlin’,” he crooned kneeling as he helped her to sit down. “Easy, now. We’ll get you inside where the doctors will take care of you.” With his arm looped around her, the silk of her hair drifted against his neck, soft and smelling of flowers. In spite of her condition, she felt as light as froth. But as she leaned her weight against his shoulder, she stiffened, and he felt the tension of her body against his side. The contraction rippled through her, tightening her slender arms and legs. He looked straight into huge green eyes glazed with pain. A light sheen of perspiration had dampened a few strands of her hair, making them catch against her lips.

A sense of panic and urgency filled him. This might be a maternity clinic, but he was only here to add a wing to the building. Pregnant women and babies were outside the realm of what he knew or wanted to know.

“I’m—all right,” she said as if she’d read his very thoughts, and he wondered if he’d spoken without realizing it. “Don’t worry. This is—the way all women do it, I think. It’s supposed to hurt.” But her teeth sank into her lip and all he could think was that it wasn’t fair that a woman this tiny should have to bear a pain this big for a baby that would come back in sixteen years and break her heart fifty thousand times.

He slid in closer, meaning to lift her, hoping it was the right thing to do and that he wouldn’t hurt her.

But she shook her head slightly, gasping. “I think— I think maybe I should get up and walk. All the books tell you to walk,” she said in a strained voice the size of a field mouse.

Mick duly noted her need to be in control of her situation. He also noted how pale her skin was against her dark lashes. Gently, he adjusted his grip on her, trying to make her more comfortable, as she struggled to rise.

“Shh. Be still. You can walk later,” he suggested. “After the doctors say it’s all right.”

And right then, her body quivered and tightened and he could tell the roll of pain was gathering speed and depth. Her teeth clicked together as she held on to the scream he was sure she needed to give vent to.

“Hold on,” he said gruffly, trying not to jostle her and hurt her any more than she already was. “I’ll get a doctor. Don’t move.” Carefully he helped her to settle back against one of the pillars of the clinic’s entrance, then dashed off to find help.

The doors of the clinic slid back with an electric swish, and Mick strode into the waiting room, taking in his surroundings. There was no doctor, only a young receptionist in serious conversation with Megan Maitland, CEO of Maitland Maternity and matriarch of the Maitland clan, one of the first people he’d learned to recognize when he arrived in Austin a week ago. The tension in his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. Megan probably knew a lot about women on the verge of giving birth.

“Ms. Maitland, please. There’s a woman outside who needs you,” he said, and to his relief, Megan only looked startled for a second before she nodded and rushed out the door in front of him.

Mick followed close behind her, but his heart nearly stopped beating when he saw his pregnant beauty standing on unsteady legs and trying to move toward the building. Her face was pale, her eyes stricken. She slipped, and Megan rushed forward, catching her as they both nearly went down. The older woman gave the younger one her strength.

The pregnant woman shuddered and spoke, her words coming out in a garbled whisper. She closed her eyes and once again struggled to rise.

This wouldn’t do. To hell with what the doctor’s would advise—or anything else. Mick stepped in and scooped this fragile, valiant woman into his arms, holding her close.

He glanced down at her. “You all right?”

She opened her eyes and nodded tightly, then took a gasping breath of air as she looked toward Megan.

“Now, blow it out,” he directed, when it seemed as if the air had gotten trapped in her lungs.

She did, then took another breath and let it out, then another. She stole another quick glance toward the woman who was a legend in the baby birthing business.

“Okay. I’m—I’m…better now,” the soft bundle of woman he was holding managed to say, and his attention was drawn to those green eyes that were now gazing straight into his own. “I—thank you for being here, and for helping me, but—I think I’ve finally pulled myself together now.” Her glance took in both Mick and Megan. “I’m sorry that I acted so—so—”

“Pregnant?” he guessed with a hint of a smile.

She tried to smile back, but it was obvious that she was very weak. How in the world had she even managed to get here? “Pregnant,” she agreed. “And stupid in not realizing my back pains were real contractions. But—I’m sure I’m fine now. You can put me down. Now that I’ve caught my breath I can walk,” she said. She pushed against his chest with those delicate, fluttery hands of hers. A fruit fly would have made more of an impact. Her breath still sounded a bit labored, and he made no move to follow her instructions.

He also noticed that she wasn’t wearing a ring. So? Maybe she didn’t have a husband…or maybe, well, there were plenty of pitiful excuses for husbands around. His father and stepfather had been cut from that very cloth, but with that thought, his beauty’s baby chose that moment to move into action again. Mick felt the quick catch in her breath. Tension climbed his body as he clutched the woman close.

“Let’s get her inside,” Megan said. A chill trickle of fear ran sprints up and down his spine. “We’ll get her into a wheelchair and into the delivery room.”

But the lady in his arms clutched tighter as the pain climbed and Megan shook her head.

“All right, never mind the wheelchair—or protocol. Come with me. I’ve had three babies of my own and I’m definitely of the opinion that when a woman is in labor, she deserves to be given whatever she needs. Right now, Mr. Hannon, this woman appears to need you.”

For half a second, Mick wondered how the woman knew his name. But then, he’d heard she made a point of learning the names of those who worked for her. With the recent acts of vandalism at the clinic, she’d want to be able to identify the temporary employees. That wasn’t good. The less the Maitlands knew of him the better. He should really leave now that he’d gotten his silken-haired beauty some help.

He opened his mouth to suggest that he needed to get back to work, but then the woman in his arms closed her eyes. Her delicate jaw tensed. And the gates of reason swung shut with a muffled click. He reluctantly nodded his agreement to Megan. He would stay here a few minutes longer.

Briskly Megan led the way into the clinic, past the cool pastel reception area and down a corridor into a birthing room decorated in pale blue and white with honey-toned wood accents. It looked more homey than the hotel room Mick was staying in right now.

Gently, he deposited the lady in his arms in a cushioned rocker, but she was apparently beyond noticing her surroundings. Indeed, she had curved those slender hands around his fingers and was holding on for dear life as if only he could save her. She looked up at him with deep distress in her eyes and, automatically, he dropped to his knees, his jeans sinking into the plush carpet. He kept his eyes on hers and let her try to crush his big hands with her small ones.