Bombshell For The Black Sheep. Janice Maynard

on a paper calendar she kept in the bedside table.

      When she thought she could move without barfing, she reached for the drawer, extracted what she needed and stared numbly at the unmarked boxes. Back one month. Then two. Then three. At last, she found it. A brief notation in her own handwriting. She’d had her period about ten days before Hartley last showed up at her house.

       Dear Lord.

      He’d used protection. Hadn’t even balked at the idea when she told him she wasn’t on the pill. In fact, he’d used protection that night after the wedding, too. He’d been a generous, thoughtful lover.

      But no method of birth control was 100 hundred percent. And now that she thought about it, three months ago, they had made love multiple times during the night when they were both half-asleep. Had they messed up? Was there one of those times when his body had claimed hers skin to skin?

      Her teeth started to chatter. She couldn’t tell him. Not yet. Not until she was sure. He was going to be at her house in a few hours. With a moan of mortification, she buried her face in the pillow.

      Yet even as she trembled with fear, excitement and happiness bloomed in her chest. A baby? Was she really pregnant? This could be the future she had always dreamed of...the family she so desperately wanted.

      Hartley didn’t have to be involved, but he had to be told.