Free The Holiday Triplets by Jacqueline Diamond

be stronger than the tissue they replace,” she noted.
    â€œOther times, you have to cut out the scar tissue or it limits your ability to function.”
    â€œIs that why you’re prepared to think the worst of her?” Sam probed.
    â€œWe’ll see come Christmas, won’t we?”
    They’d finished their coffee. And, apparently, their conversation.
    â€œWe should do this more often,” Mark said.
    â€œWith healthier food.”
    â€œAgreed.”
    Sam cleared away the chocolate wrappers and washedher hands. It was hard to leave this place, warm despite its starkness, and this man who filled up a room with a subtle sense of power.
    And yet, she reflected a few minutes later as she headed toward her house a block away, although Mark seemed contented, he didn’t strike her as happy.
    She had no idea what anyone could do about that. Oddly, though, she felt an urge to try.

Chapter Six
    On Monday morning, between performing several C-sections Mark pondered Samantha’s questions. “Do you want children? Why haven’t you ever married?”
    As a rule, he enjoyed his life. Got a jolt of adrenaline from planning the new fertility clinic. Relished bringing babies into the world and helping women lead healthier, fuller lives. And prized going home to a peaceful environment, without the drama, tears and temperaments he’d grown up with.
    Today, though, he couldn’t escape the image of all that empty space in his cupboards and cabinets. How did it feel to watch a woman arranging her colorful vases and bowls in there? To come home and cook dinner together, and talk over the events of the day? And, watching a new father’s face light up as he held his son for the first time, Mark wondered what it was like not simply to appreciate the miracle of birth, but to know you were going to spend the rest of your life caring for that child.
    Well, he planned to spend the rest of his life doing what he loved: using the talents and skills he’d been blessed with both as a doctor and as an administrator to make miracles happen.
    When he reached his office, Mark listened to his voicemail. One call had to be returned immediately. It was to Candy Alarcon.
    â€œI’m sorry to hear you had a rough weekend,” he told the young patient when he reached her. “If you felt it was an emergency, you should have called my service. They can reach me 24/7.”
    She heaved a long sigh. “Everything seems like an emergency these days, Dr. Rayburn. All these babies. Even with the volunteers, I feel overwhelmed, and now…” The sigh gave way to a sob.
    Her message had mentioned postpartum depression, a matter that Mark took very seriously. While many young moms experienced brief episodes of sadness as they adjusted to their new role, serious cases of depression could interfere with the vital mother-child bond, or even stir suicidal thoughts.
    If necessary, he’d prescribe medication, therapy or a combination of both. First, though, he needed to listen carefully to the patient.
    â€œCan you come to my office in the medical building this afternoon?” Mark asked. “I’ll clear time for you.”
    â€œHow about right after lunch?”
    He checked his schedule. “At one, Dr. Forrest and I are holding a press conference. Will four o’clock work?”
    â€œI’m not sure. If my boyfriend…” In the background, a door slammed. “Jon just came home. I told him something I shouldn’t have and now he’s kind of upset. Can I call you back?”
    â€œSure. If you can’t reach me, Lori will make an appointment. I’ll let her know the situation.”
    â€œThanks, Doc.” The phone clicked off.
    After a quick call to his nurse, Mark plunged into reading reports, advisories and updates about hospital affairs. He was immersed in the proposal for installingthe basement lab when he got a call from Chandra in