Dylan and the Baby Doctor. Sherryl Woods
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Dear Reader,
For the past twenty years Silhouette has been bringing you stories of love, laughter, passion and families. I have been honored to be a part of that tradition for more than half of that time. I can’t imagine anything more rewarding, either as a writer or as a reader. In the end, you see, that is what I am—a reader, just like you.
I love to read about that first hesitant glance of interest between two people, about their struggles to make a relationship work and, of course, about the power of love. As a former journalist who still avidly follows the news, I know that the world is often not a pretty place, just as the path to love is not always smooth. But I am ultimately a believer in the happy ending, and nobody brings you that with more variety, more tears, more laughter and more satisfaction than Silhouette. I’m so glad to be a part of that tradition and even more delighted that you are, too.
With warm congratulations to Silhouette for bringing a little touch of romance into all of our lives.
And Baby Makes Three:
The Delacourts of Texas:
A Delacourt of Texas finds love, and fatherhood,
in a most unexpected way!
Dylan and the Baby Doctor
Sherryl Woods
SHERRYL WOODS
Whether she’s living in California, Florida or Virginia, Sherryl Woods always makes her home by the sea. A walk on the beach, the sound of waves, the smell of the salt air all provide inspiration for this writer of more than sixty romance and mystery novels. Sherryl hopes you’re enjoying these latest entries in the AND BABY MAKES THREE series for Silhouette Special Edition. You can write to Sherryl or—from April through December—stop by and meet her at her bookstore, Potomac Sunrise, 308 Washington Avenue, Colonial Beach, VA 22443.
Contents
Prologue
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
Epilogue
Prologue
A half dozen yelling, laughing toddlers raced around the backyard of pediatrician Kelsey James. They were definitely on a sugar high after consuming enough birthday cake and ice cream for twice as many kids.
Maybe they hadn’t actually consumed it, she concluded after a survey of the mess. An awful lot appeared to have been smeared over shirts, spilled on the dark green picnic table or dumped in the grass, along with trails of ribbon and shredded wrapping paper. Melting pools of vanilla ice cream were everywhere. Having the party outside had been a very smart decision.
“Obviously, the party is a success,” Lizzy Adams-Robbins declared, conducting her own survey of the damage. “I can’t imagine why you were so worried.”
Finally, after days of ridiculous anxiety over throwing a kid’s birthday party, Kelsey actually allowed herself to relax. She listened to the laughter and smiled for the first time in days, maybe longer. The tight knot in her stomach eased and something that felt a lot like contentment replaced it. It was such a fragile, unfamiliar sensation, she basked in it for just a moment before responding.
“It is wonderful, isn’t it?” she said finally. “I know I was acting like a nutcase over this, but Bobby’s been through so much these past few months—leaving his dad, moving to a new place, making new friends. I just wanted his birthday party to be special. The Western theme was his idea. Ever since we stayed out at your father’s ranch, he’s really taken with the idea of being a cowboy.”
“Well, the new boots were definitely a big hit,” Lizzy said.
“They ought to be. Custom boots for a three-year-old.” Kelsey shook her head. “I must be overcompensating.”
Lizzy, whom she had known since med school in Miami, squeezed her hand. “Kelsey, stop with the guilt this instant. You had no choice. You had to divorce Paul. He was a creep. And you were absolutely right to get out of Miami and come here. The clinic needed you. I needed you. And Bobby is fitting in just fine.” She clasped Kelsey’s shoulders and turned her to look at the chaos. “You can stop overcompensating. Does that look like a little boy who is unhappy?”
Kelsey found herself grinning again at the sight of her son, his chubby little legs pumping furiously to keep up with the older children, his face streaked with chocolate frosting and vanilla ice cream. He looked like a perfectly normal little boy who was having the time of his life.
“He is having a good time, isn’t he? And the presents…” She shook her head in bemusement. “Your family really didn’t have to go crazy with the presents. There are too many toys. He doesn’t play with even half of the ones he has now.”
Lizzy rolled her eyes. “Tell that to my father. He doesn’t believe it’s possible for a child to have too many toys. Nothing makes him happier than spoiling his babies, and as far as he’s concerned you and Bobby became part of the family the minute you arrived in town.”
Harlan Adams truly was remarkable. Kelsey had heard all about him from Lizzy, of course, but even all those old tales of a doting father hadn’t prepared her for the incredible eighty-nine-year-old patriarch of the Adams clan. She had never known anyone as generous or as wise. Or as meddlesome, she thought fondly.
When he’d first heard about Kelsey’s decision to leave Miami and the reasons for it, he’d called her himself and added his invitation to Lizzy’s. Once she was in Los Piños, he’d welcomed her warmly, taking her and Bobby into his own home at White Pines until they could find a place of their own. He’d allowed the two of them to leave only when he’d checked out the new house for himself and concluded that it was suitable. He’d even insisted she raid his attic for furniture, since she’d taken very little from the Miami home she had shared with Paul.
Harlan Adams had also extracted a promise that they would go on joining the family for Sunday dinner at the ranch. He was as indulgent and attentive with Bobby as he was with all of his own grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Bobby had basked in the masculine attention, a commodity that had been all too rare in his young life. His own father had been too busy scoring business deals and pills to pay much attention to him.
With her own parents far away in Maine and not nearly as generous with their love or their time, Kelsey was more grateful for the Adamses than she could ever say. She owed them all, but especially Harlan, his wife Janet, and of course Lizzy, the best friend any woman could ask for. Lizzy had made it all possible and acted as if Kelsey were the one doing her a favor, rather than the other way around.
“Have I told you how grateful I am?” she asked Lizzy.
“Only about a million times,” Lizzy said. “I’m the one who’s grateful. We needed a pediatrician here and I can’t imagine anyone I’d rather work with than you. The timing couldn’t have been better.”
“Still—”