Free Right by Her Side by Christie Ridgway Page A

bed.
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    Without specifying her reasons, Rebecca had requested a few days off, but on the day following her marriage she was back at Portland General for a meeting of a group that had become close to her heart. Months ago she’d been asked to give a talk on pediatric first aid for the Parent Adoption Network of Children’s Connection. That day she’d discovered that the group was much more than an organization of parents who had adopted or were considering adoption. It was, in fact, a supportive group of individuals that included couples who had used the fertility services of Children’s Connection as well. It was at that meeting that the idea of using a sperm donor had surfaced in Rebecca’s mind.
    Now she attended the meetings regularly, ostensibly as a health-care “consultant,” but she got back in camaraderie and caring just as much as she gave in professional advice. When she was ready to announce her pregnancy, her friends in PAN would be the first she’d tell.
    And they would be the first she’d tell about her marriage to Trent Crosby, too. That was if she didn’t decide to call it quits first.
    Rebecca paced through the hospital corridors, reassured by their familiarity. The days between finding that handwritten list on her quilt to finding herself in front of a county marriage clerk had passed in a blur. Trent had listened to her doubts, her cautions, her reasoning, and he’d countered every objection she’d had with something of his own that appeared to make even more sense.
    She’d come to like him—she’d liked him nearly from the first—and the idea of entering into a marriage for all the sensible reasons he suggested had started to seem not so crazy, after all. He’d even managed to calm her mild panic immediately following the brief wedding ceremony. But then she’d entered that walk-in freezer he called a house and her worries had come rushing back. A night in a strange, bare guest room hadn’t alleviated a one.
    Could she and Trent really make this family plan of theirs work? If not, the time to back out was sooner, not later.
    â€œYou look as if the world is weighing on your shoulders.”
    With a start, Rebecca realized she’d made her way to the room where the PAN meeting was scheduled. Morgan Davis, the director of Children’s Connection, was acting as greeter and he was gazing down at her with a wry expression on his face.
    â€œRebecca, you can’t know how much I regret—”
    She stopped him by putting a hand on his arm. “Morgan, we’ve been through the apologies.” Though she wasn’t prepared to tell him how she and Trent hadresolved their problem—she wasn’t confident their way was going to work—she didn’t want to rehash the circumstances, either. She tried on a bright smile. “What’s up for today? Don’t we have a school psychologist coming in?”
    â€œCanceled at the last minute.” The grin on Morgan’s face said he didn’t find it a tragedy, however. “We’re going to have an impromptu celebration instead.”
    â€œWhat? Why?”
    He shook his head. “Mum’s the word until everyone else arrives. Go on in and help yourself to refreshments.”
    With a backward glance at him, she followed instructions. As usual, there were cookies and drinks set on a counter, but more puzzling was the fancy sheet cake in the middle of the room. Swirled white frosting and blue-icing roses were piled high upon it in an elaborate decoration.
    Sydney Aston, mother to adopted five-year-old Nicholas, walked up to stand beside Rebecca. She glanced at the cake, then glanced at Rebecca. “That looks like a wedding cake,” she said in a teasing voice. “Do you have something to tell us?”
    Rebecca’s gaze whipped toward the other woman. “What? No! I mean, no, I didn’t bring the cake in.”
    Sydney grinned