Their Precious Christmas Miracle: Mistletoe Baby / In the Spirit of...Christmas / A Baby By Christmas. Tanya Michaels

she could be truly happy here, in a slow-paced job and in a small community where people would probably always see her first and foremost as David’s wife with no real picture of who she’d been before. But after calling South Carolina last night to wish her own family happy holidays and hearing how stressed they all sounded—Kate having only returned to her job from maternity leave a few months ago and now worried about balancing her career with two small children, Rachel’s father still pushing himself as hard as ever and refusing to consider retirement, her mother still obsessing over office politics (“First it was the sexism and having to prove myself among the Boys’ Club, now it’s making sure these new young girls they hire don’t make the rest of us obsolete”)… Well, it was easy to remember why Rachel had dropped out of that particular rat race and sought the sanctuary of this sleepy town.

      Folks in Mistletoe might be overly interested in her life, but it was by and large legitimate interest, not just judging her by her portfolio or whether she was on track for a promotion. Rachel had never truly disliked her job at the print shop. She’d just started overanalyzing it because she’d wanted to feel that she was in control of something, because she’d so desperately needed to be excited about something in her life. But both her parents had tried to find their satisfaction at the office for years, and neither seemed to have succeeded.

      She patted her tummy, looking down. “And then there’s you.” She could not wait to see everyone’s faces when she and David made the announcement later.

      When she finally joined the others in the kitchen, Tanner harassed her about women taking a long time in the bathroom, and Arianne playfully accused her of ducking breakfast chores. Only David glanced at her with worry, raising an eyebrow in silent question and miming being queasy. It took her a moment to figure out what he was doing, and she laughed at how ridiculous he looked. She’d unintentionally discovered that her competitive husband would probably be lousy at charades.