Amelia had ever seen her.
Amelia warmed at the sight of the fire roaring in the fireplace. “But that little guy you brought home is worth it, isn’t he?”
“Absolutely.” Sadie tugged at Amelia’s hand. “Come and see Ben. He’s sleeping, but it’s almost time for him to eat again.”
Amelia followed Sadie to the den, a cozy room with lots of throw pillows, a comfortable couch, and a toy corner for Ayla, complete with a kitchen set and doll cradle.
Unlike her own home, there were no dark paintings of Alcatraz or prisons or death in Sadie’s house. Only paintings filled with the deep, rich colors of the mountains in fall, a landscape of the creek in winter, a light watercolor depicting spring with Ayla running through a sea of wildflowers, and a bright, sunny painting of Jake and Ayla digging in the sand on a beach with the ocean glimmering in the sunset.
Ben was sleeping on his back in a bassinet in front of the window, a pale-blue blanket wrapped tightly around him, a tiny white teddy bear tucked beside his arm. Amelia couldn’t take her eyes off the bear.
“Isn’t he beautiful?” Sadie whispered.
Amelia blinked back tears. The fresh scent of baby powder and newborn suffused her. “Yes, he is.” Slowly she laid a gentle hand on his chest.
Ben wiggled beneath the blanket, his tiny hands curled by his face, a squeaking sound coming from him as he stirred.
Sadie stroked the baby’s cheek. “I can’t believe he’s finally here. I . . . don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to him.”
Amelia tensed. “I can understand that, Sis. But Ben is safe, and you and Jake are wonderful parents.”
Sadie brushed at her eyes, where tears had formed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. One minute I’m giddy with happiness, the next I’m terrified I’ll do something wrong. Sometimes I sit and watch his chest rise and fall just to make sure he’s breathing.”
Amelia didn’t blame her. “Hormones,” Amelia said, trying to comfort Sadie.
Sadie laughed. “You’re probably right.”
The baby whimpered, and Sadie gently scooped him up. “Do you want to hold him before I nurse him?”
A deep breath caught in Amelia’s throat as the memory of begging to hold her own son surfaced.
“He won’t break,” Sadie said, oblivious to the turmoil eating at Amelia.
Sadie eased the infant into Amelia’s arms, and she cradled him close to her, rocking him gently back and forth. He whimpered, then opened his eyes, squinting at the light as he kicked at the blanket.
“He’s so precious.” Amelia smiled at the way he curled his little hand next to his cheek. He felt so sweet in her arms, so tiny and innocent, that love for him overwhelmed her.
Sadie wrapped an arm around Amelia and hugged her. “He’s going to love his aunt.”
Amelia brushed at a tear. Would he?
If her son was alive, would he want to see her? If he knew about her mental illness, would he be embarrassed that she was his birth mother?
“What’s wrong?” Sadie asked.
God, she wanted to confide in her sister.
But that would be selfish.
The baby squirmed again, saving her from answering when he began to fuss.
Amelia traced a finger over the newborn’s soft dark hair, noting his features. Jake’s square chin and blunt nose. Sadie’s eyes.
“Ah, it’s okay, buddy, Mommy’s going to feed you,” Sadie said softly.
A hollow emptiness filled Amelia as Sadie took the baby from her, and she turned away so Sadie wouldn’t see more tears in her eyes.
Several pictures of Ayla, from birth to kindergarten, hung on the wall. The photos chronicled the little girl on holidays, and as she learned to crawl and walk. Ayla’s mother had abandoned her when she was small, leaving Jake to raise her alone.
In the last photo, Ayla, Jake, and Sadie posed together, beaming at Sadie and Jake’s wedding.
Sorrow wrenched her heart.
Her son would have been about the same age as Ayla.
Maybe the doctor who’d delivered her
Amelia warmed at the sight of the fire roaring in the fireplace. “But that little guy you brought home is worth it, isn’t he?”
“Absolutely.” Sadie tugged at Amelia’s hand. “Come and see Ben. He’s sleeping, but it’s almost time for him to eat again.”
Amelia followed Sadie to the den, a cozy room with lots of throw pillows, a comfortable couch, and a toy corner for Ayla, complete with a kitchen set and doll cradle.
Unlike her own home, there were no dark paintings of Alcatraz or prisons or death in Sadie’s house. Only paintings filled with the deep, rich colors of the mountains in fall, a landscape of the creek in winter, a light watercolor depicting spring with Ayla running through a sea of wildflowers, and a bright, sunny painting of Jake and Ayla digging in the sand on a beach with the ocean glimmering in the sunset.
Ben was sleeping on his back in a bassinet in front of the window, a pale-blue blanket wrapped tightly around him, a tiny white teddy bear tucked beside his arm. Amelia couldn’t take her eyes off the bear.
“Isn’t he beautiful?” Sadie whispered.
Amelia blinked back tears. The fresh scent of baby powder and newborn suffused her. “Yes, he is.” Slowly she laid a gentle hand on his chest.
Ben wiggled beneath the blanket, his tiny hands curled by his face, a squeaking sound coming from him as he stirred.
Sadie stroked the baby’s cheek. “I can’t believe he’s finally here. I . . . don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to him.”
Amelia tensed. “I can understand that, Sis. But Ben is safe, and you and Jake are wonderful parents.”
Sadie brushed at her eyes, where tears had formed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. One minute I’m giddy with happiness, the next I’m terrified I’ll do something wrong. Sometimes I sit and watch his chest rise and fall just to make sure he’s breathing.”
Amelia didn’t blame her. “Hormones,” Amelia said, trying to comfort Sadie.
Sadie laughed. “You’re probably right.”
The baby whimpered, and Sadie gently scooped him up. “Do you want to hold him before I nurse him?”
A deep breath caught in Amelia’s throat as the memory of begging to hold her own son surfaced.
“He won’t break,” Sadie said, oblivious to the turmoil eating at Amelia.
Sadie eased the infant into Amelia’s arms, and she cradled him close to her, rocking him gently back and forth. He whimpered, then opened his eyes, squinting at the light as he kicked at the blanket.
“He’s so precious.” Amelia smiled at the way he curled his little hand next to his cheek. He felt so sweet in her arms, so tiny and innocent, that love for him overwhelmed her.
Sadie wrapped an arm around Amelia and hugged her. “He’s going to love his aunt.”
Amelia brushed at a tear. Would he?
If her son was alive, would he want to see her? If he knew about her mental illness, would he be embarrassed that she was his birth mother?
“What’s wrong?” Sadie asked.
God, she wanted to confide in her sister.
But that would be selfish.
The baby squirmed again, saving her from answering when he began to fuss.
Amelia traced a finger over the newborn’s soft dark hair, noting his features. Jake’s square chin and blunt nose. Sadie’s eyes.
“Ah, it’s okay, buddy, Mommy’s going to feed you,” Sadie said softly.
A hollow emptiness filled Amelia as Sadie took the baby from her, and she turned away so Sadie wouldn’t see more tears in her eyes.
Several pictures of Ayla, from birth to kindergarten, hung on the wall. The photos chronicled the little girl on holidays, and as she learned to crawl and walk. Ayla’s mother had abandoned her when she was small, leaving Jake to raise her alone.
In the last photo, Ayla, Jake, and Sadie posed together, beaming at Sadie and Jake’s wedding.
Sorrow wrenched her heart.
Her son would have been about the same age as Ayla.
Maybe the doctor who’d delivered her
Similar Books
