The Pregnancy Plan / Hope's Child: The Pregnancy Plan / Hope's Child

When he’d proposed to Danica Carrington, he’d known that she was focused on her career to the exclusion of all else; she’d made no secret of the fact that children weren’t part of her plan. He’d married her anyway, certain that she would change her mind when she held their baby in her arms. But it hadn’t happened that way at all, and after three years of desperately trying to make their marriage work, he’d finally given up and she’d eagerly walked away.

He pushed aside the disappointments and continued his tour. There was no reason to think of Danica now, to continue to mourn what had never been anything more than an illusion. He was determined to put the past behind him and make a fresh start in Pinehurst, to make a new life with Madeline.

And one of the most attractive features of this home, from his point of view, was its move-in condition. The walls were freshly painted in neutral colors, the carpets were pristine, the hardwood unmarked and the cherry kitchen was a chef’s paradise.

Not that he was a chef, by any stretch of the imagination, but he enjoyed experimenting in the kitchen. And he knew he would enjoy experimenting in that kitchen, with its top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances, luxurious island and two sets of French doors opening onto a cedar deck.

Tina tucked her BlackBerry away when he paused at those doors to survey the backyard more closely.

“Any thoughts?” she asked him.

I want it, was the first thought that came to mind.

“It’s probably a lot more space than I need,” he said instead.

“It is spacious,” she agreed, choosing to put a positive spin on his negative comment. “More suited to a family than a single man, but definitely a good investment.”

“It’s certainly been immaculately maintained.”

“It’s a three-year-old custom-design by Armstrong & Sullivan, built by Carson Construction,” she said. “The owners are both young professionals who, from what I understand, spent more time at their jobs than at home.”

He knew what that kind of life was like—and the toll it could take on a marriage. But all he said was, “Either they’ve taken minimalist decorating to a new level or they’ve already moved out.”

“Moved out,” she admitted, with a smile. “The wife got transferred to New York City, the husband took a job offer in Los Angeles, and they left me in charge of the house.”

And Cam would bet the proceeds were to be split down the middle, along with all their other shared possessions, with a significant chunk from each side going to their respective bloodsucking lawyers.

Yeah, he’d been there, done that, too.

Of course, when he’d met Danica he’d thought she was the type of woman he wanted, someone who had ambitions and dreams, who wanted more than to be a wife and a mother.

Someone who didn’t remind him of Ashley Roarke.

Since he’d been back in Pinehurst, it seemed as if everything reminded him of Ashley. Every street and shop and landmark brought back memories of times they’d spent together.

When he’d left town more than a dozen years ago, he’d left his high school sweetheart behind. He could have chosen a college closer to home and had, in fact, been far more tempted to do just that. Instead, he’d opted to put some serious distance between them, so that he wouldn’t be able to come home on a long weekend, so that he wouldn’t end up sacrificing his own dreams just because he was in love.

During his first few years away, he’d dated only occasionally, and the girls he had dated were usually blue-eyed blondes who reminded him of Ashley in some way. Not surprisingly, none of those relationships ever went very far.

An initial attraction sparked by a superficial resemblance to the girl he’d left behind inevitably fizzled when he finally accepted that no one else was Ashley. No one else’s eyes were as bright, no one else’s smile was so warm, no one else’s touch felt so right.

And then he met a dark-haired, dark-eyed first-year law student who didn’t resemble Ashley in any way.

Danica wasn’t looking to get married; she didn’t want to tie herself down. She had plans for her life and she wasn’t going to let anything—or anyone—stand in the way of fulfilling them.

She was, it had seemed to him then, his perfect match.

It had taken him a long time to realize what a mistake he’d made.

He sometimes wondered how differently his life might have turned out if he’d never gone away. If he’d never said goodbye to Ashley. But wondering and wishing couldn’t change the past, and though there had been more bumps in the road than he’d have chosen, he couldn’t regret where he was now.

Now he had Madeline, and she was the reason for everything he did, for everything he was. She would probably expect him to consult with her before making a decision on their housing situation since it would impact her future, too. But she wouldn’t be back from London for three more weeks and he didn’t want to wait that long.

He needed to move into a place of his own. He loved his parents dearly—in fact, being closer to them was one of the reasons he’d decided to move out of Seattle and look for a job in the area. But he was too old to be sleeping on living room furniture, and he certainly couldn’t share the couch with Madeline.

He considered calling her now, not just to tell her about the house but to hear her voice. But with the five-hour time difference, it was likely that she was already in bed.

He glanced at the spec sheet he still had in hand, then up at Tina. “What are they asking for rent?”

She told him the amount. “Plus utilities,” she said, sounding apologetic.

“It would almost be cheaper to buy it,” he noted.

“I think that’s the point. They are willing to rent, but they’d rather sell.”

Cam hesitated. He hadn’t considered buying a house. On the other hand, real estate was generally a good investment and he had no doubt his mortgage payments would be less than the quoted rental fee.

“I know you were adamant about wanting a house,” she said. “But I did find a couple of condos available for rent, and I’ve got the details with me if you want to take a look at those instead.”

He wasn’t usually impulsive, but something about this house just felt right. As if he and Madeline belonged there.

As if they’d finally come home.

And if it crossed his mind that being back in Pinehurst meant being near Ashley Roarke again, well, he pushed that thought aside.

Chapter Two

Ashley was a big fan of retail therapy. A great pair of shoes could put a smile on her face on the gloomiest of days, and she was positively beaming when she pulled onto Chetwood Street heading home after her shopping expedition Thursday afternoon.

Only two and a half weeks until the first day of school, and she was as excited as any of the first graders who would be entering her class.

She’d enjoyed the summer break and had, in fact, needed both the time away from the classroom and the solitude to let her bruised and battered heart heal. But six weeks of intense rest and relaxation along with some quality time spent with Marg & Rita had her feeling a lot better about herself and her future. Okay, so maybe she’d wallowed a little, but she’d eventually pulled herself out of the funk and now she wasn’t just ready but eager to move forward. Deciding to have a baby was a big step forward, but one she was more than ready to take.

Her already high spirits got another lift when she spotted the SOLD sign down the street. She hadn’t known the previous owners except to say hello in passing, but she’d heard that they were newlyweds when they’d first moved in and now, three years later, newly divorced. Maybe that was part of the reason she’d felt inexplicably saddened when they’d packed up, or maybe she’d just hated to think that the beautiful home had been abandoned, but today, the SOLD sign seemed to her another beacon of hope.

She pulled into her driveway already speculating about the new owners, wondering where they were from and when they’d move in. Were they another newlywed couple? Empty nesters? A family with kids? The neighborhood was an eclectic collection of each, including a few singles like herself.

Because she was thinking about her potential neighbors, she didn’t see the package propped up against the door until she was sliding her key into the lock. It was wrapped in brown paper and blended in with the paint, suggesting that she really should repaint the door to give the outside a little boost of color and a more welcoming feel. Since she wasn’t getting married and moving any time in the near future, she should consider adding some personal touches to make the house more distinctly her own.

She felt a slight pang when she thought of the wedding that wouldn’t be, but only slight. She was totally over Trevor now and determined not to let the absence of a husband prevent her from having the child she wanted.

She shifted her other bags, then tucked the flat parcel under her arm and carried it inside. She dumped everything on top of the dining room table before backtracking to the kitchen. She opened the fridge, found a can of her diet soda next to the regular Pepsi her sister favored and popped the top.

Megan had been married for three months now, but Ashley still missed having her around. She certainly missed her more than she missed her former fiancé—she shook her head, pushing him firmly out of her mind. She wasn’t going to ruin a perfectly nice day thinking about Trevor and what he’d done.

Instead, she carried her drink into the dining room, back to the mysterious paper-wrapped package. She couldn’t remember buying anything that needed to be delivered, but the neatly printed label had her name and address on it, so she turned the parcel over and lifted the tape.

As she pulled back the paper, revealing a polished walnut frame and the edge of a cream-colored mat, she realized it was a picture. Tearing the paper further, she sucked in a breath at the image of herself wrapped in the arms of her supposedly devoted fiancé.