“My sister has a daughter, a little girl named Katie.”
“A little girl. How do you feel about that?” Mason asked, thinking he could predict Lisa’s response all too well. No wonder she was chewing her lip. The dream of finding her birth family had not included a niece.
“I’m an aunt, and it’s…I guess it’s different. I never expected to be an aunt.”
Given that she’d babysat only once in her entire life—an upsetting experience, as he recalled—he doubted she’d be willing to have much to do with the child. “I assume you plan to meet Katie,” he said.
Lisa looked him straight in the eye, making it impossible for him to miss the hope in her expression. “No, it’s a lot more than that. Katie needs me. I’m bringing her home.”
Dear Reader,
There are few experiences in life as special as reading letters from those of you who have benefited from my books. So many of you wrote to say you identified with Emily Martin and her very personal loss in Baby in Her Arms. Your praise and appreciation made me realize that being able to write a story is a gift that reaches out to so many people in a very personal way.
This next book, A Child Changes Everything, was inspired by the idea that at some point in our lives as parents we experience a moment when we’re unsure whether or not we’re good parents.
Lisa Clarke’s journey from being a fearful, hesitant parent to her discovery of what joy there is in being a mother forms the basis of A Child Changes Everything. Equally important to Lisa’s story is Mason Stephens, the man she once loved, a man who comes to understand what it took for Lisa to bring Katie into her life. Their shared love for children rekindles their love for each other.
It is my hope that A Child Changes Everything will enrich your reading experience.
I welcome any feedback you might like to offer on this book, or any of my books. Please contact me on my Web site, www.stellamaclean.com, or e-mail me at [email protected].
Sincerely,
Stella MacLean
A Child Changes Everything
Stella MacLean
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Stella MacLean has spent her life collecting story ideas, waiting for the day someone would want to read about the characters who have lurked in her heart and mind for many years. Stella’s love of reading and writing began in grade school and has continued to play a major role in her life. A longtime member of Romance Writers of America and a Golden Heart Award finalist, Stella enjoys the hours she spends tucked away in her office with her Maine coon cat, Emma Jean, and her imaginary friends while writing stories about love, life and happiness.
Books by Stella MacLean
HARLEQUIN SUPERROMANCE
1487—HEART OF MY HEART
1553—BABY IN HER ARMS
This book is dedicated to single parents everywhere, for the love and courage they show their children as they go about their daily lives.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To Paula Eykelhof and Adrienne Macintosh, my editors, whose generous editorial support enriched this book in so many ways.
To Megan Long, editorial assistant, for all her thoughtfulness.
To my husband, Garry, whose unstinting encouragement made writing this book a wonderful process.
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 FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER ONE
LISA CLARKE’S LIFE as she’d known it had ended.
She missed her mother; she especially missed the quiet evenings they’d shared these past few months, when they talked about her dad and her mother’s early years in the family home in Durham, North Carolina. Her mother had kept that house because she loved it, the house Lisa still lived in today. It was during those evenings that her mom had confided her dream of playing professional tennis, a dream she’d left behind when she married Lisa’s father. It was so like her mother to put her marriage first.
They’d been closer in those last months than at any time before, and Lisa was so thankful for all of it.
Today’s meeting with Sherman Tweedsdale, the family lawyer, about her mother’s will should be short and to the point. Other than a couple of bequests, she was the sole beneficiary.
Having given her name to his secretary, Lisa sat alone in the reception area. She didn’t mind waiting for Tank, as her parents had always called him. She had only an empty house to go back to, and pressure from a real-estate agent to sell the property.
She’d spent an hour this morning making a list of things she needed to have done should she decide to put the property up for sale. She’d learned the list-making habit from her mom. She sighed. It all felt too soon. There were so many good memories of her life in that house, memories she wasn’t prepared to abandon so quickly. True, her mom and dad had often been overprotective, but Lisa had realized long ago that their protection came from their love for her.
Relieved to have a few quiet moments to herself, she glanced around the paneled walls, her gaze coming to rest on a group of photos showing Tank’s achievements. Staring at a photo of her father and Tank at a Chamber of Commerce awards dinner, Lisa became aware of someone approaching the reception area.
Shifting her gaze, she saw Mason Stephens standing there. The room dipped and swayed before it settled back, and still he stood there, his long black hair almost touching the neck of his dark leather jacket. Pain circled her heart, draining the air from her lungs.
Attempting to hide her dismay, she stared at the man who’d walked out of her life five years ago. His eyes still held the same piercing quality, adding to the air of authority he carried so well. Lisa made an effort to block the rush of emotions his presence exposed. She toyed with her purse strap and tried desperately to slow her racing pulse.
She could not let him see how much it hurt to be reminded of her own role in the failure of their relationship—her refusal to agree to children, a refusal Mason could never accept.
“Hello, Lisa,” Mason said, his rueful smile lighting his gray-green eyes. Mason was a handsome man, and his good looks, combined with his self-assurance, made him every woman’s dream. Or nearly every woman’s…
“What are you doing here?” she asked, fighting to keep the tremor out of her voice as memories tumbled around her mind. Very often his evening shifts as a policeman and hers as a nurse had allowed them to meet at his apartment where they’d relax over a late supper. It