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“How so?” she asked and looked up, meeting his eyes.

“I’ve never delivered a baby before.”

“I know. Me, neither,” she said and they smiled at each other.

“It was one of the highlights of my life, being there with you and Noelle.”

“Mine, too—I mean, you being there.”

“Thank you.” His words were low and filled with intent. He leaned forward and braced his forehead against hers. “If it’s okay with you…”

“What?” she prodded.

“I’d like to see Noelle sometime.”

“See her?”

“See both of you.”

“Both of us,” she repeated, afraid she was beginning to sound like an echo.

“As long as it’s okay with you,” he said again.

She nodded, trying not to act too excited. “If you want.”

“I want to very much.”

“I’ll be back in Seattle,” she said.

“I don’t mind the drive.”

“Or you could take the ferry.”

“Yes.” Mack seemed just as eager to visit as she was to have him come by. “When?”

She wanted him there as soon as possible. “The doctor said he’d release Noelle and me this afternoon. My brothers are picking us up at three.”

“Is tomorrow too soon?” he asked.

Mary Jo was convinced the happiness that flowed through her must have shone from her eyes. She didn’t think she could hide it if she tried. “That would be good,” she said shyly.

“Merry Christmas, Mary Jo.”

“Merry Christmas, Mack.”

Just then the nurse showed up carrying Noelle. “It’s lunchtime,” she said cheerfully.

Mary Jo held out her arms for her baby, born on Christmas Eve in Cedar Cove, the town that had taken her in. A town whose people had sheltered her and accepted her. The town that, one day, she’d love to call home.

Home for her and Noelle.

ISBN: 978-1-4268-2149-3

A CEDAR COVE CHRISTMAS

Copyright © 2008 by Debbie Macomber.

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, MIRA Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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