The Most Precious Gift

Back to Books The Most Precious Gift

Everyone knows a baby isn’t a piece of merchandise a person can refuse delivery on if one changes one’s mind. Except that’s exactly what surrogate mother CASEY MCINTYRE (34) feels her fraternal twin, Brianna, is attempting when she unexpectedly divorces her hunky pediatrician husband and moves halfway across the country. This leaves Casey, a preschool teacher, three months pregnant with her ex-brother-in-law’s little bundle. She can’t imagine what could’ve caused such a sudden change of heart. She doesn’t even want to think about what will happen if and when Brianna finally realizes her awful mistake.

CHAPTER 1

“But how’s the baby gonna get out?” Four-year-old Kayla patted the nascent paunch under Casey McIntyre’s pink maternity top. The little imp’s wide gray eyes rounded, glistening like a couple of shiny CDs.

Now what? Casey blew out a frazzled breath, silently cursing the parents who’d been gossiping about her pregnancy around her students. She certainly couldn’t tell the child the truth, which was her teacher would get the granddaddy of all cramps that would squeeze the baby out of her.

Answering preschoolers’ delicate questions was one of the most challenging aspects of her job. The safest way was to keep explanations vague but truthful.

“Well, in about five months, I’ll get a tummy-ache and the doctor will take the baby out.”

“Oh.” Kayla nodded, satisfied with the simple answer. She slid off Casey’s lap and scampered across the classroom to join the other toddlers.

The tall, slender teacher’s aide, Andrea Sutton, mopped up a puddle of juice on the floor nearby and chuckled. “Their questions are so darn cute.”

“I’m just grateful none of the little darlings have asked how the baby got into me,” Casey muttered.

Andy raised finely arched eyebrows a shade darker than her bright copper waves. “Ahhh--but there’s another month before graduation. Those inquiring little minds still have lots of time to wonder.”

“I’ll let their mothers field that question.”

Even though most of the preschoolers’ parents considered it noble of Casey to serve as her fraternal twin’s surrogate, they wouldn’t thank her if she gave them the real scoop on how a doctor had planted seed from her sister’s husband inside her so she could give Brianna and David a baby.

Naturally, there’d been a lot of agonizing over the decision beforehand.

On Thanksgiving, Casey had confided to David’s OB/GYN friend, Paul Forrester, her fear that Brianna would always feel like half a woman unless she could give David his own child. Paul had pointed out that if Casey really wanted to help, she could always carry her sister’s baby for her.

She had to admit she and her twin were more like each other’s alter ego than sisters. Despite all their squabbling as kids, she knew in her heart Brie would do it for her if their situations were reversed.

Any good sister would.

The following week they had all gone for surrogacy counseling, and when the weather turned cold and Brianna’s residual limp returned as it did every December, Casey’s guilt pangs only reinforced her desire to help. But then in the course of their counseling, Brianna insisted she didn’t care if the child was genetically hers and asked to use Casey’s eggs instead of harvesting her own.

Needless to say, Casey’s resolve faltered. Still, she reminded herself how irresponsible it would be to put Brie and herself through the discomfort of hormone shots and incur the expense and high risk of failure that were part of in vitro fertilization. She repeatedly told herself her eggs were just a collection of chromosomes, and she could still be a big part of her child’s life. Just as the doting aunt.

In the end, Casey didn’t have the heart to disappoint her sister--or herself, after getting enthused over the prospect of becoming pregnant. After several failed relationships and a broken engagement, she’d lost hope of ever getting married and having the big family she’d always dreamed of raising.

Consequently, when the time had come for Casey to ovulate in January, despite her reluctance, she’d gone through with the insemination.

“Truthfully,” she said, turning her attention back to Andy, “I was hoping to get through the school year without having to tell anyone I’m pregnant.”

Since her due date was early October, she planned to hire a substitute to teach her class in the fall, which would’ve left no one the wiser.

“If that’s the case, wearing maternity clothes probably wasn’t a great plan.” Andy grinned, tightening the top on the green tempera paint. “Are you sure the doctor didn’t miss something on your sonogram--like maybe twins? I don’t think it’s normal to show at less than four months.”

“Yes, I’m sure. Thank you very much for noticing how fat I’m getting.”

Brianna insisted Casey’s premature pot was due to her having a short torso and less room inside than the average woman. In reality, Casey had been eating like a great white shark in a feeding frenzy to stave off her persistent queasiness.

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you about the school’s addition,” Andy tactfully changed the subject to one that, until yesterday, would’ve been nearly as unpleasant. “Did the bank finally approve your loan?”

“Yup.” Casey smiled. “The contractors break ground in two weeks.”

“Thank God. If they don’t hurry up, the building will never be finished in time for the new classes to start in the fall.”

The affluent Pennsylvania suburb where Casey had established her business was located between Manhattan and Philadelphia, which made Bucks County a mecca for young executives. Much to the displeasure of two-career families, the public school district only offered a half-day kindergarten, creating a need for a private, full-day program.

This year, Casey had finally shown enough profit to consider enlarging her business by adding a kindergarten class and a remedial first grade to help students with developmental delays catch up to their peers.

The extra income from expanding was the only way she could afford a home of her own. She wanted a place where she could garden and have the houseful of pets she’d never been able to enjoy as a child because of Brianna’s asthma.

“How about we get a pizza delivered for lunch,” Andy suggested.

Casey shook her head. “I’d better stick with yogurt. The eight pounds I’ve put on aren’t all baby.”

Andy flipped her hand in a dismissing wave. “It’s water, not fat. Women’s bodies change a lot during pregnancy.”

“Tell me about it.” Casey hefted her breasts in her palms. “The Girls have already grown half a cup size.”

Andy nudged Casey’s shoulder and nodded toward the door. “Isn’t that your brother-in-law in the hallway?”

David? Casey turned toward the door, and her stomach lurched at the sight of his rugged face framed in the window. Great. She yanked her hands from her chest. She’d never hear the end of him seeing her feel herself up. She released a sigh laced with dread and whispered, “What the heck is he doing here?”

“How should I know?” Andy rolled her green eyes. “Do you think I’d be working for the pittance you pay me if I were psychic?”

Casey resisted the urge to shove the whiteboard eraser in the smart aleck’s mouth. “That was a rhetorical question. However, I have a pretty good idea what the answer is. Dr. Do-Good probably stopped by to make sure I’m taking my prenatal vitamins.”

It had been eight days since she’d spoken to her sister, and hence, over a week since she’d listened to a relay of her pediatrician brother-in-law’s suggestions on the care and feeding of their unborn child.

“If he irritates you, why are you carrying his baby?”

She’d been asking herself the same thing since the middle of January. “He doesn’t exactly irritate me. Our relationship is complicated.” She waved to acknowledge seeing him. “Anyway, I’m doing it for my sister.”

Andy grabbed her hand to hoist her off the toddler-sized table. “Maybe he thinks you’ve got a doctor’s appointment.”

Possibly. Except, even if she had one, she’d be meeting Brie and David at Paul’s office.

“You’re done here for the day. Go see what’s up.”

On a usual day, Casey taught lessons until lunch, and then while the kids were napping and playing, her afternoons were reserved for the multitude of administrative duties involved in running the preschool.

Andy shooed her out of the classroom. “Louise and I can handle things.”

Casey slipped out the door and closed it behind her. “David,”--she smiled, breathing his spicy scent wafting through the hallway--“to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Shifting his feet, he cleared his throat, yet his deep voice still rasped. “I hoped you’d have some free time so I could treat you to lunch. We need to talk.”

So she was right. This would be another prenatal lecture.

“Thanks for the invite, but I have a ton of paperwork for the state’s yearly review and a zillion things to organize for the addition I’ve gone into hock up to my hairline to build.” Not to mention, she needed to find time to get to the gym.

“Please. It’s important.” The desperation in his voice made the tiny hairs perk up on her arms. They hadn’t spoken since her doctor’s appointment nine days ago when they’d heard the baby’s heartbeat for the first time. Now, suddenly, he wanted to do lunch?

As a pediatrician who dealt with occasional life-and-death situations, David was more inclined to downplay a problem than dramatize it. Maybe there was a reason Brianna was dodging her phone calls. She’d been acting strange for over a month now.

“What’s wrong?” She tipped her head back to peer into his eyes and gasped at the pain flickering in their depths. “Please tell me Brie’s all right.”

“Your sister’s fine,” he muttered, his forced smile failing to reach his eyes. “This can’t wait any longer.”

“All right, talk.” She crossed her arms. “I’m listening.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “I don’t want to discuss this here. Please.” His insistence caused a gnawing in her stomach.

“Fine, let me get my purse.”

His athletic shoulders sagged in apparent relief as she strode by him to the school’s office and grabbed her handbag. He held the front door for her, and a warm May breeze drifted into the large one-story brick facility.

She followed David to his silver convertible and waved to Mrs. Berger, the gray-haired neighbor who’d subdivided her property and sold Casey the building that used to house the Berger’s business on the town’s main artery.

“Where would you like to eat?” David opened the passenger door and helped her into the Sebring’s low-slung seat. The sun-warmed leather felt like a heating pad on her back.

“I’m not fussy. Someplace I can order a salad. If I gain another ounce this month, Paul will be stamping USDA Grade A Prime on my lard butt.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” David flashed his first real smile that day. “You’ve never looked more beautiful--Elsie.”

Casey’s anxiety melted at the return of his usual wit. She waited while he trotted around the car and slid behind the steering wheel before delivering her comeback. “Just for that crack, you can bet I’ll be ordering something expensive. Like a lobster salad?”

“Good, I’d like my son to develop an early appreciation for the finer things.”

During her sonogram, the baby had been sound asleep and refused to budge into a position that would reveal its sex.

“You mean my niece.” She had to keep thinking of herself as the baby’s aunt, or she’d never be able to give up her child after it was born.

Correction--her sister’s child. Always theirs. Never hers.

She was less than four months into her pregnancy, and already she knew she’d made a huge mistake. She’d given her word and would follow through, but it didn’t mean she had to be happy about it.

“No way.” David turned the key, causing the engine to roar to life. “There hasn’t been a girl born on the paternal side of my family in four generations.” He reached over and gently patted her tummy. “I’ve got no doubt you’re carrying my son.”

Gritting her teeth, she fought to calm the resentment his intimate touch inspired. She pasted on a smile and watched his dark hair dance in the gentle breeze blowing through the partially open window. The silver strands threaded throughout his flyaway mop shimmered in the sunshine.

“Personally, I don’t care. I just think Brie would love to have a little girl to dress up.”

The muscles in David’s throat visibly tightened. “I wouldn’t worry about your sister’s preference.”

She stared at his granite profile and frowned at the bitterness in his voice. Obviously his bantering was just a smokescreen. “Okay. What’s going on?”

“Wait till lunch.” He smiled tenderly at her stomach. “I’ve got precious cargo on board, and I need to keep my mind on the road. Just relax and enjoy the ride.”

Yeah, right--not likely with the driver strangling the steering wheel.

Click on the titles to read other excerpts

A Little Bit of Déjà Vu The Memory of You The Right Match

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