Bundle of Joy Read online

  Praise for Christy Award-winning author

  ROBIN LEE

  HATCHER

  “Romantic fare perfect for curling up in front of the fireplace with a cup of hot chocolate.”

  —Library Journal on Hearts Evergreen

  “The sweet romance will keep readers invested in the characters. It’s refreshing to read a novel that’s as heartwarming and gentle as this one.”

  —Romantic Times BOOKreviews on Trouble in Paradise

  “Nobody addresses modern women’s issues better than Robin Lee Hatcher. Thank you, Robin Lee, for writing about pain and struggle and, therefore, the unfathomable grace of a living, caring, Holy God. Thank you for offering hope and redemption on every page.”

  —Lisa Samson, author of Quaker Summer, on Beyond the Shadows

  “This novel embraces complexity rather than eschewing it. A well-paced and genuinely suspenseful plot plus Hatcher’s pleasingly smooth prose make this novel a delight.”

  —Publishers Weekly on The Victory Club

  “Every once in a while a book comes along that challenges your thinking, changes your perspective, yet entertains and satisfies you at the same time. The Forgiving Hour is such a book….”

  —Romantic Times BOOKreviews

  Also by

  ROBIN LEE

  HATCHER

  Another Chance to Love You

  Trouble in Paradise

  “A Cloud Mountain Christmas” in Hearts Evergreen

  ROBIN LEE HATCHER

  Bundle of Joy

  Refreshed version of DADDY CLAUS,

  newly revised by the author

  Published by Steeple Hill Books™

  Dear Reader,

  I love the Christmas season. I also love babies, and God has blessed me with two wonderful daughters and six beautiful grandchildren, all of whom have grown up much too fast. I suppose it isn’t necessary to also mention that I’m a romantic. So blending romance and Christmas and the promise of a new life in Bundle of Joy was particularly fun. I hope reading Alicia and Joe’s story has lifted your spirits and given you pleasure.

  Alicia and Joe first “introduced” themselves to me in 1998, and I was quickly enchanted by the possibilities for their love story. Now, ten years later, I’m delighted that Steeple Hill is bringing their story to life again in Bundle of Joy.

  As I write this note, I am working on a couple of new romances that I hope you will soon enjoy. I invite you to visit my Web site at www.robinleehatcher.com to keep up on the latest releases as well as to learn about my backlist.

  In the grip of His grace,

  Don’t you see that children are God’s best gift?

  the fruit of the womb his generous legacy?

  Like a warrior’s fistful of arrows

  are the children of a vigorous youth.

  Oh, how blessed are you parents,

  with your quivers full of children!

  Your enemies don’t stand a chance against you;

  you’ll sweep them right off your doorstep.

  —Psalms 127:3-5

  Bundle of Joy

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  Questions for Discussion

  Prologue

  Instant Message

  November 6, Midnight

  Alicia: I don’t know what I’ll do.

  Joe: May I make a suggestion? You could tell your grandfather the truth.

  Alicia: I can’t do that. It would break his heart. I lied in the first place to protect him. He was so sick. No one thought he would survive his heart attack. And when he did, I never *dreamed* the doctor would allow him to travel. I thought I would have more time.

  Joe: “Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive!”

  Alicia: Very funny.

  Joe: Sorry.

  Joe: :-

  Joe: Thought Sir Walter Scott had a good point.

  Alicia: Not in this circumstance. Grandpa’s from the old school. There’s never been a divorce in the Harris family. And he warned me not to be hasty. If he finds out the truth, he’ll worry about me. That’s not good for his heart. It might kill him. Oh, how did I get myself into this mess?

  Joe: What you need is rent-a-husband.

  Joe: ;-)

  Alicia: Ha! You applying for the position, Joe?

  Joe: Six weeks pretending to be your husband? Sounds like pretty gruesome work to me.

  Alicia: So much for the rent-a-husband idea. I think I need a good cry. Ought to last about a week.

  Joe: Hey! Don’t cry. It wouldn’t be *that* gruesome. As I recall, you were a pretty cute ten-year-old. I suppose I could stomach it if I had to.

  - - -

  Joe: Alicia?

  - - -

  Joe: Alicia? Are you there?

  - - -

  Joe: Hello?

  Alicia: I’m here. I was just thinking about what you said. Maybe this could work.

  Joe: What could work?

  Alicia: You pretending to be my husband for a few weeks. Just while Grandpa is here. Maybe it’s the perfect solution. You want to move back to Idaho, and you’ll need to find a position. That takes time, especially during the holidays. This would give you somewhere to stay. I’ve got extra bedrooms. By the new year, you’d be employed and have a place of your own.

  Joe: I hope you’re not serious.

  Alicia: But I *am* serious. Not just serious. Desperate!

  - - -

  Alicia: Joe?

  Joe: My turn to think.

  Alicia: Will you do it?

  - - -

  Alicia: Joe?

  Joe: Tell you what. I’m flying up next week anyway. We’ll meet and talk while I’m in town. Then if you still want to go through with this crazy idea of yours, I’ll consider it. But no promises.

  Alicia: It was *your* crazy idea.

  Joe: I know. But I was kidding.

  Chapter One

  The streets of downtown Boise were busy on this second Saturday in November. People walked briskly along the sidewalks, their coat collars turned up and their heads leaning into the wind as they hurried from store to store. Shops and restaurants were crowded. A good sign for retailers, since the Christmas shopping season hadn’t begun in earnest.

  Alicia Harris sat at a table in Espresso Heaven, a coffee shop on Main Street, waiting anxiously for someone who looked like Joe Palermo—thirty-six years old, six foot two, black hair, brown eyes—to walk through the door. It wasn’t much of a description, but it was all he’d given her. It didn’t matter. She was certain she would recognize him, even after all these years.

  No, it wasn’t the description—or lack thereof—that made her anxious. It was wondering whether or not he would agree to her outlandish suggestion. If he didn’t…

  “Care for some coffee while you wait?” the waitress asked, drawing Alicia’s gaze from the street scene.

  “No, thanks. But I would like some herbal tea, if you have any.”

  “Sure thing. Whole selection. Be right back.”

  Alicia laid a hand on her extended abdomen. “Maybe this is a crazy idea, Humphrey.” Humphrey was her pet name for her
unborn child. “He could be an ax murderer.”

  Joe had suggested that possibility last night when they’d spoken by phone. He’d called from the motel near the airport shortly after checking in.

  “You’re taking quite a risk, Alicia,” he’d said. “You don’t know much about me really. Just old memories and some instant messaging. I could be criminally insane. I could be an ax murderer.”

  She didn’t believe he was dangerous. She’d known the entire Palermo family when she was a girl, had made mud pies in the backyard with Joe’s younger sister, Belinda. In fact, she’d had a major crush on “Joey” when she was ten and he was seventeen. But the Palermos had moved to California before she could grow up and make him notice her.

  No, Joe was no ax murderer. There were plenty of things she didn’t know about him, nineteen years later, but she was certain the boy who used to fix her bicycle chains and search for her missing cat was no monster.

  A blast of cold air signaled the opening of the coffee shop’s door. Alicia glanced up…and stopped breathing.

  She was over seven months pregnant and already as big as a barn. She hadn’t had a good hair day in at least fifteen weeks. Before leaving the house, she’d hidden the mess under a black and red Cat-in-the-Hat-type knitted cap. It probably didn’t look much better than her hair. To top it all off, three pimples had appeared on her forehead this morning and now glowed as bright and red as Rudolph’s nose.

  And then there was Joe Palermo.

  How did an Adonis at seventeen become even more handsome nearly two decades later? Shouldn’t he have wrinkles or a receding hairline or a middle-age paunch or something?

  He found her with his eyes, and he smiled.

  Good grief! They could light the Capitol Christmas tree with that smile.

  She swallowed hard, then smiled in return, watching as he made his way toward her.

  Get a grip, Alicia. It’s only Joe, and he’s just here to consider doing you a favor. He’s off-limits.

  He stopped on the opposite side of the table. “You must be Alicia.” His gaze dropped to her abdomen. “Although you look a little different from the last time I saw you.” He glanced up. “You’re taller, right?”

  “Right.” She chuckled nervously.

  “It’s good to see you again, Alicia.”

  “You, too, Joe.”

  He pulled out the chair and slid onto the seat. The waitress appeared before he had time to remove his coat.

  “Can I get you something?” she asked, sounding breathless.

  “Large coffee. Black. Thanks.”

  “No frills,” Alicia said as the waitress hurried away.

  He smiled again. “No frills.”

  Now she could see she’d been wrong. He did have a few wrinkles. Tiny smile lines around his eyes and the corners of his mouth. And mighty attractive they were, too.

  Oh, her wacky pregnancy hormones were doing a major number on her. She hadn’t given a man the time of day since Grant walked out three weeks after their wedding. She wasn’t going to start now. Playing the fool once per decade was her limit.

  “Popular place,” Joe said, intruding on her thoughts.

  “Yes. I usually come about nine in the morning, before I open my store. It’s a little more quiet in here then. The eight-to-fivers have come and gone, and I can sit in the corner and sip my tea while reading the paper.”

  The waitress arrived with Joe’s coffee.

  “Thanks.” He flashed the young woman one of his million-watt smiles. Then he looked at Alicia, giving the waitress no excuse to linger. “Okay, let’s talk about why I’m here.”

  “No-nonsense. Is that the attorney in you?”

  “I guess so.”

  She sat a little straighter, drew a deep breath and let it out. “Joe, I know this is a huge favor to ask of anyone. Especially since you haven’t seen me in years. If there was someone else I could ask…” She sighed. “But there isn’t.”

  “Are you sure this is the best way? I remember your grandfather as the sort of man who would forgive your faults and lend a helping hand when needed. I think he could handle the truth, whatever it is.”

  “If you’d seen him in the hospital, you’d understand. We came so close to losing him. If he knew I was about to become a single mom, he would worry about me. Worry is the last thing he needs right now.”

  A frown drew Joe’s black eyebrows together. “Proverbs says that truth stands the test of time and lies are soon exposed. I’m thinking that’s good advice.”

  “Is it so terrible to want to protect someone you love?”

  “No,” he answered softly. “It isn’t terrible. Misguided, maybe, but not terrible.”

  Alicia looked out the window at the scurrying Saturday shoppers. “I never meant for things to get out of hand. I never meant to tell even the first lie. It just sort of…happened. It’s a long, stupid story.”

  Joe had come to the café to tell Alicia he couldn’t agree to this charade, not even for an old childhood friend. He wasn’t a great actor in the best of circumstances. He feared that pretending to be someone’s husband—considering his low opinion of wedded bliss—would be beyond his meager capabilities. Besides, he had this troublesome feeling that God would prefer honesty.

  But when he opened his mouth to tell her he couldn’t do it, out came different words. “Tell me a little more—” he motioned toward her stomach “—about what happened. You haven’t gone into detail when we’ve had our chat sessions.”

  Still staring toward the window, she released a deep sigh. “It’s bad enough my friends and employees know.”

  “I’m your friend, Alicia. You can tell me.”

  That drew her gaze back to him.

  “Hormones,” she whispered with a pitiful wave of her hand toward her tear-filled eyes. Then she grabbed her purse, opened it and withdrew a packet of tissues. “Sorry.”

  “No problem.” He sipped his coffee.

  After a lengthy silence, she began speaking in a low voice, so low Joe had to lean forward in order to hear her.

  “I met Grant Reeves last March at a party. He was an acquaintance of one of my employees and was in town for a few weeks. He was from Reno where he worked as a carpenter. Grant was charming and charismatic. He had a way about him that made all the women take notice. But it was me he paid special attention to that night. And every night after that, too. He wined and dined me, showered me with flowers and gifts. It was all new to me, and I fell hard. He asked me to marry him two weeks later. He wanted to get married right away.”

  Joe whistled softly, which drew a wry look and a nod from Alicia.

  “I called Grandpa Roger. He’s the only family I have left since my parents died. I wanted him to be happy for me.” As she spoke, she lowered her gaze to the napkin in her hand and began shredding its edges. “But he wasn’t. In fact, it brought out the pastor in him.” A brief smile curved her mouth, then vanished. “He reminded me that marriage is a holy estate and not to be entered into lightly. He asked questions about Grant’s character and wanted to know if he was a Christian. Questions I couldn’t answer because I didn’t know. Because I hadn’t asked them myself.”

  Joe saw the glitter of tears in her eyes and felt a tug in his heart.

  “I got angry and said some very unkind things to Grandpa. And I didn’t listen to his words of caution, either. Grant and I were married four days later.”

  Marry in haste and repent at leisure. Whoever said that knew what he was talking about. But Joe would have shortened it to: Marry and repent. Period.

  “I knew it was a mistake almost from the first day,” she continued, “but I wouldn’t admit it. My pride was involved. I told myself things would improve. We just had to get used to living together, to each other’s idiosyncrasies. I tried not to complain that he spent too much money and that he came home late so often.”

  Alicia fell silent. Her unshed tears swam before her blue-green eyes. She looked fragile and vulnerable.

 
All of Joe’s protective instincts flared to life. But those instincts weren’t good ones, he reminded himself. Better to ignore them.

  He took a sip of his lukewarm coffee.

  “I found Grant with another woman three weeks after we were married. He seemed surprised I was upset by it. Apparently we had very different ideas of what marriage meant.”