Prescription: Baby. Jule McbrideЧитать онлайн книгу.
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From Megan Maitland’s Diary
Dear Diary,
I ran into Katie Topper in the nursery today. She looked a little tired, but thank goodness she’s back from Houston. Ford Carrington simply hasn’t been himself since she left. Of course, nothing has been sane around here since little Cody turned up on our doorstep! But I suppose gossip and scandal bring out the worst in people. Just look at all the women crawling out of the woodwork trying to claim that darling child. And now this Janelle person appears out of the blue, saying she’s the mother, causing a scene!
It’s all simply too much. I need time to think, time to decide what to do next. If what Janelle says is true…well, I just don’t know. Could I really be that sweet baby’s grandmother?
Dear Reader,
There’s never a dull moment at Maitland Maternity! This unique and now world-renowned clinic was founded twenty-five years ago by Megan Maitland, widow of William Maitland, of the prominent Austin, Texas, Maitlands. Megan is also matriarch of an impressive family of seven children, many of whom are active participants in the everyday miracles that bring children into the world.
When our series began, the family was stunned by the unexpected arrival of an unidentified baby at the clinic—unidentified, except for the claim that the child is a Maitland. Who are the parents of this child? Is the claim legitimate? Will the media’s tenacious grip on this news damage the clinic’s reputation? Suddenly rumors and counterclaims abound. Women claiming to be the child’s mother are materializing out of the woodwork! How will Megan get at the truth? And how will the media circus affect the lives and loves of the Maitland children—Abby, the head of gynecology, Ellie, the hospital administrator, her twin sister, Beth, who runs the day-care center, Mitchell, the fertility specialist, R.J., the vice president of operations, even Anna, who has nothing to do with the clinic, and Jake, the black sheep of the family?
Please join us each month over the next year as the mystery of the Maitland baby unravels, bit by enticing bit, and book by captivating book!
Marsha Zinberg,
Senior Editor and Editorial Coordinator, Special Projects
Prescription: Baby
Jule McBride
MILLS & BOON
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Jule McBride received the Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice Award for Best First Series Romance in 1993. Since then she has penned thirty more heartwarming love stories that have met with strong reviews, been nominated for awards and made repeated appearances on romance bestseller lists. A three-time Reviewer’s Choice nominee for Best American Romance, Jule has also been nominated for two Lifetime Achievement awards in the category of Love and Laughter.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER ONE
DOCTOR FORD Freeland Carrington.
Seeing him outside the operating room could turn her face as red as her hair and her knees to water. If he passed her in a hallway or politely held open a door, cold sweat would break out above her lips, and if he should ever kiss her—outside her wickedest dreams—pediatric nurse Katie Topper feared her iron-clad constitution would give way and she’d drop into a dead faint like the Texas Southern belles she loved to hate.
For two years, she’d wanted Ford Carrington. She damn well respected him, too, but now she’d stooped to lusting after him while he was performing surgery. This was even worse than letting her mind stray to him during the Sunday services she sometimes attended with her papa, where Reverend Kenneth would work himself into a full lather, preaching hellfire and brimstone.
Hellfire Katie knew about of course. Her papa lovingly joked that more than the usual quota coursed through her Irish blood. It was probably why she couldn’t keep her mind off Ford. Not that she wasn’t doing her job. She’d arrived in the OR before the others this evening, double-checking the monitors and insuring the supply drawers were stocked.
“I’m ready to finish closing now, Katie.”
Ford’s warm voice—all melting Southern molasses mixed with Northern prep school polish—made her gut tighten. “Ready, Dr. Carrington,” she said.
Momentarily lifting gloved hands smudged with blood, Ford scrutinized the monitors before he took a needle from Katie, leaned down and began stitching the patient, this time closing skin, not internal tissue. “Great work, everybody,” he commended. “Looks like this baby’s going to make it. Those monitors stable, Jerry?”
“Yeah,” said a technician.
Just as another tech lowered the easy-listening country music Ford always played while he operated, he glanced up. “I appreciate your rounding up those size four clamps for me, Carrot Top. I needed them.”
Katie’s heartbeat quickened at the use of her nickname, and she braced herself against the unwanted feelings. “No problem,” she managed to say, the end of the sentence slowing into a gait that was pure east Texas. “Dr. Nelson always grabs more of those clamps than he has a right to for OR seven. Anyway, I’m just glad this baby’s going to make it.”
Ford chuckled. “As slow as you talk, Katie, this boy’ll be full-grown and winning rodeos before any of us leave the OR.”
That got a good-natured laugh.
Katie arched a sparse red eyebrow. “Making fun of my drawl, Dr. Carrington?” He always did.
He wore a green surgical mask, and she could tell he was smiling by the way his dark brown eyes crinkled at the corners. “Is that a challenge I hear? Haven’t you learned not to mess with me yet?”
“Rule number one,” she returned. “Never make fun of how us Texans talk, Dr. Carrington. Those are fighting words.”
“Fighting words? You think you’d win?”
“I know.”
He chuckled. “So, you’re a fighter, huh?”
“Sure am,” she replied, still reminding herself that Ford Carrington didn’t even know she existed outside the OR. She also knew nonmedical professionals might look askance at their casual banter and black humor, but joking relieved tension. Ford teased liberally, and Katie was the target since she could dish it out as well as take it. The repartee meant nothing special, but coming from Ford, it made her heart