Free Miracle Baby (Harlequin American Romance) by Laura Bradford Page A

to her neck making her swallow. Hard.
    She searched for something to say to distract herself from the sensations running along the tops of her shoulders. She was so very aware of Rory’s nearness. And warmth. And confidence. And sweetness…
    â€œI guess I’m hoping that by writing down some of your special memories, you’ll have an additional way to visit them when you need to.”
    â€œAdditional?”
    â€œThe first place they are is in your heart and your mind. Writing them in this book just gives you one more place to go and remember.” He nodded while opening the book to the first page. “But what’s neat about this journal is that there’s a spot on each page where you can add a picture or a ticket stub or some other tangible item that goes along with your memory.”
    She leaned her head back against the sofa, his strong arm offering a sense of safety she hadn’t realized she needed until she felt it. “I remember the day I found out I was pregnant. I actually took a picture of the pink line.”
    â€œThe pink line?”
    Turning her head, she gazed up at him. “I took one of those home pregnancy tests. No line, not pregnant. Pink line, pregnant.”
    â€œAhh. See, I’ve never had a child, so this is new to me.” He scooted a hairbreadth closer. “But that sure sounds like a great picture to include on the page where you recall that moment in your life.”
    She closed her eyes, letting the past wash over her.
    â€œTell me more.”
    Her eyes flew open. “You really want to hear that kind of stuff?”
    â€œI’d love to.”
    For the briefest of moments she hesitated, unsure whether his request was genuine or simply the words of a man who epitomized kindness. But in the end, she spoke.
    â€œThere was the first time I took her to the zoo. I knew it was silly to go. She was too little to have a clue about what I was showing her, but…well, I loved it. The weather was perfect—a gorgeous autumn day. And the animals were in their glory, running here and there in their habitats. I told her about every animal we saw and she cooed along as if she actually understood. Even though I know she didn’t.”
    Maggie’s breath caught when she felt his hand on the side of her face. “Okay, so maybe she didn’t understand the difference between an alligator and a crocodile…or even whether you were talking about the tree in front of her or the strange colored thing on the ground,” Rory replied. “But I bet she understood one thing.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œThat she was with the one person who made her feel loved and safe and wanted. I’d coo about that, too.”
    A lump formed in her throat. When Maggie said nothing, he continued, his hand dropping from her face to the book. “Do you have any keepsakes from that day? Like a ticket stub or a zoo map or something?”
    She swallowed back the lump, tried to focus on something other than the void left by the movement of his hand. “I have a leaf.”
    â€œA leaf?”
    â€œA leaf,” she repeated. “It floated down from a tree near the prairie-dog exhibit. She watched it drift down until it landed on her coat. And when it did, she broke out into her very first smile.”
    The corners of Maggie’s mouth lifted upward as she returned to that day, the thought of her baby’s first smile misting her eyes.
    â€œIf her smile was anything like yours, I’d want to remember it, too.”
    The raspy quality of his voice made her look up, their gazes meeting in the firelight. “That first smile was like nothing I’d ever seen. It was the epitome of joy…and she spread it to me. Every single day of her much too short life.”
    Rory’s palm returned to her face, this time lingering on her cheek. “I can’t imagine a better gift.”
    She covered his hand with her own,