Dream Baby

“No,” Isabel replied firmly. “This is what’s best for everyone. Bobby and I got carried away by a night filled with too many stars and two many glasses of wine. I’ve seen what happens to children whose only mistake in life is to be born in the wrong place at the wrong time. I can’t do that to a child.”

They had argued this point more than a few times. Isabel was determined to give the baby up for adoption. She had very clearly defined career goals to become a doctor and the tenacity to make them a reality. Her parents had sent her to the United States for an education in the hopes that she would return to her war-torn homeland to help rebuild it. It was a noble, lofty ambition, and it would not be an easy life. Especially for a young woman with a small child.

“It doesn’t have to be that way. You don’t have to go back to Bosnia.”

“Yes, I do. I owe it to my family. And my country.”

“Izzie, what if—”

“No,” Isabel cut in. “I’ve made up my mind, and I’m not going to change it. I deliver a healthy baby and begin my internship at Blakely-Forbes, and you become the wonderful mother you were always meant to be.”

The mother you were meant to be. The words settled around Nora’s heart, full of unbelievable good fortune and frightening possibilities. Could it really be so easy for her to become a mother at last?

Two months ago, after the prenatal visit that had confirmed the baby’s sex as a boy, Isabel had suddenly posed the idea, one she’d evidently been considering for some time. They had been having lunch at the Whispering River. Nora had just slipped a bite of chicken salad onto her fork, and Isabel’s words stilled her hand in midair.

“I would like you to adopt my baby.”

The café was noisy, full of diners, and Nora shook her head, not sure she’d heard correctly. “What?”

“I’d like you to adopt my baby.”

“You aren’t serious.”

“Don’t say no right away,” Isabel added quickly. “Just think about it.”

“There’s nothing to think about. It’s impossible.”

“Why?”

“It just is.”

“Why? Because you’re not married? Single women have been adopting children for some time now. Many come from my own country—out of orphanages where they would surely have died. At least in this case you’d know who the mother was, and I can promise you, in spite of the fact that Bobby doesn’t want the baby, he comes from a good family. Virginians. Aren’t those founding fathers or something?”

Nora shook her head, knowing that her gaze on Isabel must be incredulous. “Izzie, I can’t adopt your baby.”

Isabel set her water glass down and looked back at her with clear, determined eyes. “Nora, for as long as I have known you it has been your dream to have a child. Why not my baby? Give me reasons.”

It was crazy. Too fast. She couldn’t just adopt her friend’s child. Could she?

The answer was yes, according to Nora’s family attorney, John Forrester. Nora, who had greeted the new year certain that she was destined to remain childless for life, could be celebrating next Christmas as a mother. The idea—so frightening, so wonderful—had taken hold and now had such a tight grip on her senses that most nights Nora could hardly sleep for thinking of all the ways she would love this child.

Isabel drew her attention back to the present with a touch of her hand. “Nora,” she said softly. “Have you changed your mind? Do you not want this child?”

Nora’s stomach was full of sudden butterflies, but she responded in a low, unshakable voice. “I want this child with all my heart.”

Isabel smiled. “Then together we will make it happen.” With a toss of her head she climbed carefully back to her feet, dragging Nora with her. “Now, please, no more torture today. Ten crunches are enough.”

“All right,” Nora conceded as she slipped back into her sneakers. “But twice as many tomorrow.”

Brushing wisps of hair out of her eyes, Nora tightened the ponytail at the back of her neck. Isabel toed the rug back into order where it had bunched up, while Nora maneuvered two enormous leather chairs back into place. Placing them at just the right angle, she glanced out the wide front window, past the front driveway and the narrow grassy slope where railroad-tie steps led down to the spring pool. Through the trees, the water was no more than a cool, inviting glimpse of crystalline blue. It was still a little too chilly for swimming. Memorial Day really kicked off the beginning of summer, and right now there was no movement down there. Not even a canoe sliced through the water of the river.

Nora cut her eyes to the left, down the line of Cabins One through Three, where the Hideaway’s only guests, a couple from New Orleans, had checked into Cabin Two a couple of days ago. “The Pullmans’ car is gone. Wonder where they’re off to.”

“Oh,” Isabel said from behind the registration desk. “I knew I forgot to tell you something.” When Nora swung around, she grimaced and said, “They checked out.”

Nora frowned. “When?”

“While you were fixing the air conditioner in Cabin Six.”

“That’s a day early. Did they say why?”

“Mr. Pullman said his office called unexpectedly.” Isabel wrinkled her nose, clearly indicating she doubted that story. “Mrs. Pullman said the quiet made it impossible for them to sleep at night.”

“Damn,” Nora muttered. She walked to the front of the registration desk, leaned over the counter and pulled the reservation book in front of her. What she saw there didn’t make her feel any better. “We don’t have anyone else booked until Friday.”

Determinedly optimistic, Isabel rushed into speech. “Unless we get a walk-in, that gives us three days to relax. You can paint, and I can soak in the tub. Try to get my belly to stop itching.” She must have seen something in Nora’s face, because her tone became anxious. “What’s the matter?”

Nora’s breath escaped in one long sigh. “Izzie, I can’t provide a good home for the baby if the Hideaway continues to lose money this way. Cabin Six is going to need a new compressor. Four has a water leak in the bathroom, and I’ll be darned if I can find it.” With a flick of her wrist, Nora turned the reservation book around so that Isabel could see as she flipped through the pages, stopping on the weeks of June, July and August. Too many blank spaces where names ought to be. “The summer should be completely booked by now.”

She shut the book with a snap, leaning dejectedly against the counter. “Maybe Trip is right,” she said almost to herself, remembering the last argument she’d had with her brother. “Maybe it’s time to sell the place.”

Isabel gasped. “You don’t want to do that. You love the Hideaway.”

“I do. And I’d eat bread and water before I’d let it’go. But a baby needs things, expensive things...”

“The baby needs someone to love him. And that he will have. You mustn’t give in to Trip’s demands. He has his own selfish reasons for wanting you to sell.”

Nora smiled at her. Isabel made no secret of her opinion of Trip. “I know he’s not without his faults, but he’s still my brother and the only family I have left.”

“Better to be completely on your own, perhaps,” Isabel grumbled.

Nora decided to ignore that remark. How could Isabel hope to understand the relationship Nora shared with her brother? The girl had grown up in a large family, with so many siblings jockeying for position, vying for their parents’ attention.

But childhood had been completely different for Nora and Trip. The Hideaway had gone through years of financial difficulties, and although loving, Nora’s parents had been too busy trying to keep the family business afloat to spend much time catering to the whims of their children. Trip had been a demanding baby, and Nora, a lonely little girl of eight had gladly taken on the task of looking after him. Through sickness and poor grades and driving lessons, he had relied on her, and though Trip was spoiled and self-centered at times, Nora still thought of him as the scared little boy who needed her.

It was probably too late to change the way Trip was, but was it too late to change her life? Was she only hanging on to the Hideaway out of stubbornness? Since her father had died, six years ago, and her mother shortly after that the profits had grown smaller and smaller each year. Bracing her head on her arms, she grimaced. “I don’t know, Iz. Maybe it’s just time to—”

“Oh, no!”

Nora straightened. Isabel’s face had gone white. “What’s the matter? Is it the baby again?”

“Oh, it can’t be. What is he doing here?”

“Who?”

The girl gripped Nora’s forearms tightly. “I can’t see him. I won’t.” Her frightened eyes flew to the window. “Don’t let him see me. Don’t even tell him I’m here.”

“Who?” Nora asked, a bud of panic beginning to bubble to the surface of her own senses. While she stood in stunned silence, Isabel practically leaped from behind the registration desk and disappeared through the doorway that led to the private quarters of the lodge. “Where are you going?” Nora called after her. “Izzie, for Pete’s sake, don’t tell who—”