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“I don’t know. He was paged and had to leave to see a patient. He said he would call later when he has a day off, but I’m not banking on it. I mean it’s not like he wants this baby; he hadn’t planned it or anything.”

“Neither did you, but you want it.”

A smile tugged at Harper’s lips. “I do.” If she could just work out how she could take care of both of them, her life would be complete. “Even if it came as a shock at the start.”

“Maybe James will be the same,” Caitie suggested. “He could come around like you have.”

“Maybe. But if he doesn’t, it’s okay. He didn’t look like he was overjoyed at the idea of being a daddy. Not that I can blame him. The poor guy didn’t expect to see me again, and now here I am with the biggest shock of his life. That kind of thing takes some getting used to.”

“James is a good guy. I can tell you that much. He’ll want to talk to you about it. Support you. I know him and his family; he wouldn’t walk away from something like this.”

“I guess it’s up to him whether he wants to be part of the baby’s life.” Harper touched her stomach, feeling the gentle swell. “I’d like him to be involved, of course. But if he’s not into babies, I understand.”

“Of course he’s into babies. He had his own once.”

Harper pulled her head up, her mouth turning dry. “What? He has children? He never mentioned them.”

Caitie’s face drained of blood, making her already-pale skin look almost ethereal. “You don’t know about Sara and Jacob?” she asked, her bottom lip dropping open. She shook her head. “Of cours

e you wouldn’t. Why would you?”

“Who’s Sara?”

“She’s James’s wife.” Caitie bit her lip.

“He was married?” Harper’s eyes widened. “Or is he still married? Ugh, please tell me he isn’t? Because I’ll hate myself.”

“He isn’t.” Caitie looked down at the fabric she was twisting between her fingers. “Sara and Jacob died in a car crash about three years ago. Jacob was only a year old. Mom told me about it. It was horrific.”

It was as though a cold downpour of water had washed all over her. His baby died? Harper’s heart ached at the thought of it.

“I should have told you.” Caitie shook her head. “But I didn’t think it through. Didn’t think that you really didn’t know who he was or anything about his history. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t know it was him until we were in the hospital today. And I didn’t know either.”

Harper tried to reconcile the sexy, confident, funny guy she’d slept with all those weeks ago with a man who’d lost his wife and child three years earlier.

Caitie inhaled deeply, offering her friend a rueful smile. “Poor you, and poor James. It feels like every time you solve one problem another pops up.”

“I guess it’s good preparation for parenthood. With the sleepless nights and constant anxiety I already feel like a mom.”

Caitie stood and slid her arms around Harper, hugging her tightly. “It’s going to be okay,” she told her. “You’ve got me and Breck, and Ember and Lucas, not to mention Brooke and Ally and Nate and Aiden. Try not to worry so much. It’s not good for the baby.”

Harper hugged her back. “And now I’ll worry about that, too,” she joked.

“So let’s take your mind off it. Let’s go make some popcorn and watch a chick flick in the living room. That’ll make everything okay.”

Harper looked at the half-finished dress she’d narrowly avoided bleeding on. She really should finish it and get it sent out tomorrow, but the lure of sitting with her best friend and losing herself in a movie was too strong.

She could afford a couple of hours off. And when Caitie and Breck were asleep she’d quietly hand sew the dress to finish it up.

“Okay,” she said, letting Caitie take her hand and pull her up to standing. “A chick flick sounds perfect. The cheesier the better.”

* * *

Thanks to his years in medicine, James had developed a useful ability to compartmentalize his thoughts. It was almost essential for a doctor. If he thought too much about the body he was operating on, or the possibilities of what could go wrong, any sane surgeon would probably freeze. In the hours between painstakingly cutting into a patient’s skin and sewing it up when surgery was over, his attention was narrowed into a pinpoint.

Life outside of the person in front of him didn’t exist. Time didn’t pass, stomachs didn’t get hungry, people didn’t call. Every emotion, thought, and fear were buried deep to enable him to do the job he was born to do.

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