From Megan Maitland’s Diary
Dear Diary,
Less than a year ago, I despaired of ever seeing my brood settled, and suddenly they’re falling like flower petals. A mother’s prayers answered!
Anna, bless her, may put a stop to my run of success, however. She defines the “once burned, twice shy” maxim. I’ve seen her give men a longing glance, then turn away as though convinced she’ll never find happiness in a relationship and has decided not to even try.
She uses her son, Will, as an excuse, but I think he should be her reason to round out their family. He’s brilliant, all right, but he’s still a little boy. His uncles do their best to give him their attention, but now they have wives and are planning families of their own. Will needs some kind man’s undivided attention.
Isn’t it ironic that Anna’s been hired to plan Austin Cahill’s wedding, when he’s just the man whose business genius my stock-market-savvy grandson holds in such awe? I consider the man quite a catch myself. Sigh! If only Anna could have gotten to him first! But now I’m getting greedy. Even a mother can’t have everything!
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
Billion Dollar Bride
Muriel Jensen
Muriel Jensen is the award-winning author of over sixty books that tug at readers’ hearts. She has won a Reviewer’s Choice Award and a Career Achievement Award for Love and Laughter from Romantic Times Magazine, as well as a sales award from Waldenbooks. Muriel is best loved for her books about family, a subject she knows well, as she has three children and eight grandchildren. A native of Massachusetts, Muriel now lives with her husband in Oregon.
To David Charbonneau and Diane Dezielle
and our special connection.
Contents
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 ONE
ANNA MAITLAND turned in the swivel chair at her desk to keep Caroline Lamont in sight as she paced the lavender and cream office.
“I see a medieval English theme,” Caroline said, her voice hushed as though she were describing a vision. “Ivy-trimmed bowers, costumed knights, the wedding party dressed appropriately and arriving on horses.”
Anna smiled and nodded. When a Wonderful Weddings client planned to “perform” rather than be married, there was little she could do but give her what she wanted. Anna had always considered fulfilling dreams her business, but her work wasn’t half as much fun when a client insisted on making it “theater.”
“And when we turn around to leave the church,” Caroline went on, “I’d like butterflies to be released!” Her voice rose a little in her excitement over the idea, and she spread her arms wide to suggest a cloud of monarchs fluttering around her.
“I’m afraid I can’t provide that, Caroline,” Anna said, continuing to smile.
Caroline came to sit on the edge of Anna’s desk. She was tall and coltish and absolutely gorgeous. She had chin-length dark blond hair framing gray eyes that widened or narrowed with the intensity of her mood. It was early April in temperate Austin, Texas, and she wore a casual sweater and pants the color of early-blooming lavender crocuses.
“Sure you can,” she said, her glossy lips curving in a smile. “They’re the rage now. I think you get them from a nursery or something.”
Anna nodded. “Or an insect farm. They’re shipped overnight in a special, refrigerated container, individually boxed for each guest. You can do that if your heart is set on it, but you’ll have to make the arrangements, and you’ll have to accept delivery and handle every part of it.”
Caroline blinked in apparent mystification. “They don’t sting or anything. There’s no need to be afraid of them.”
It was difficult for Anna to maintain a serious look. She hadn’t expected to like Caroline Lamont when they’d been introduced at Maitland Maternity Clinic’s twenty-fifth anniversary party last month. Caroline had a reputation in the press and among Texas society as a fun-loving party girl who enjoyed her family’s oil money. Her sister, Camille, worked hard for charity, but from all indications, Caroline did nothing worthwhile but appear front and center at every social event Texas had to offer.
Anna had expected a frivolous snob. But Caroline seemed to be more of a frivolous nice person. Eager to indulge herself, she was nonetheless pleasant and courteous, seemingly unaware that there was a world outside the rarefied one she occupied.
“I’m not afraid of butterflies,” Anna said patiently. “But I could never do anything that would result in one being put in a box.”
“But they’re not hurt. They fly away.”
“Would you like someone to put you in a box, just so that when you stepped out of it, you’d look pretty for that person?”
Caroline considered a moment and did not appear to find the idea disagreeable. “I suppose it would depend upon who was opening the box.” She smiled thoughtfully then shook her head. “Guests could toss rice or birdseed instead, but that’s so mundane—not to mention messy.”
“What about flower petals. They’d be in keeping with your theme, I think.”
That pleased her. Then she asked gravely, “Do you think we’ll have to go to London for the armor and the costumes?”
Anna struggled with her expression again. She’d indulged many extravagances in the years that she’d been in business, but she’d never traveled out of the country to outfit the wedding party.
“I…think