Page 23 of Conail

Turning around abruptly, he pushed aside his troubles and faced his sister. "Mama said you weren't feeling well."

"I wonder why? Is it because I'm pregnant?"

"Don't be a smart ass," he told her mildly.

"You look handsome."

He brushed that aside, eyes latched onto her face. "How are you?"

"Mama brought me tea and crackers." She shrugged. "It's working slowly."

"I hate that you're going through all of it. I noticed that Eleanor keeps coming around. Haven't seen the father though."

"This is not your typical pregnancy," she reminded him. "He's not supposed to be involved."

"Seems to me you're doing all the work, and the bastard gets to keep the baby."

"Colin--"

He held up a hand. "Don't mean to point out the obvious." Lifting a hand, he brushed it against her cheek gently. "The sacrifice you are making is well and truly appreciated." To her surprise, he leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "Thanks."

She watched as he strode from the room. Taking a deep breath, she went back to her work.

*****

He read the report, his heart picking up speed. Her name was Yasmine and there was a photo of her in the thick file. She was two months pregnant and was plagued with constant sickness.

"Subject is rejecting the medication administered for the nausea, which is not just in the morning, but seems to be an all-day occurrence. We have recommended several things, but nothing seems to be working. She claims that her mother's herbal tea and soda biscuits are somewhat doing the trick. The fetus is healthy and despite the nausea, patient is holding her own."

Putting aside the report, he leaned back in the chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. So far, he had been trying not to think of the woman involved in all of this. It was easier to think of her as just a vessel, someone he was paying an exorbitant amount to provide a service. But his mother was determined to shove her into his face.

And gave him countless reports about 'Yasmine'.

"She's so brave. Poor thing. It's obvious, the pregnancy is giving her hell, but she never complains. She's an illustrator, you know. She did the illustrations for the popular children's book – 'The Lost Pig'."

"Never heard of it."

He had seen the irritation on her face. "Of course not."

He had recently googled the book and found that it was on the New York's bestselling list. And her illustrations were being lauded as clean, crisp and excellent. He had studied the designs and agreed with the critics. He had also had a long look at her photos. She had a brilliant smile and dimples. And wore her height and weight very well.

It had nothing to do with him, he told himself firmly. If his mother wanted to get involved, then that was her business.

The woman was being paid to do a service.

He had to go out of town for a few days and had reports and contracts to study. Putting away the folder, he dismissed the woman from his mind.

*****

"What do you think?"

Both women were having Maeve's delicious hot chocolate and slices of her lemon meringue pie from the oven.

It was almost Christmas, and she was being kept busy baking for almost the entire neighborhood and bakeries in town. The greenhouse was up and running and her husband was having the time of his life planting bulbs and seeds. And she was decorating for the holidays.

"You're going to have to get Yasmine to agree to spend the time at your place."

Eleanor nodded as she sipped the delicious beverage. "It's the only way she will come in contact with my son. She's two months pregnant and still as sick as a dog. I could make the play that I have a household of staff members to cater to her. You andeveryone are busy. Besides, the constant cooking is contributing to the nausea."

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