Fortune's Christmas Baby (Fortunes of Texas)

“Yeah.” For several hours at least. She hoped. The baby had been doing much better the past week, giving Lizzie six-hour stretches during the night.

“So what time are we getting up to do this shindig?” Carmela, still standing in the middle of the room, waved toward the tree.

“Early,” Lizzie said, grinning. “My parents used to wake me up at the crack of dawn and pretend that it was me who couldn’t wait to open presents.”

“You kidding?” Carmela grinned. “I was up in the middle of the night trying to get mine up!”

“I made you some tea.”

“Yeah... I, um, think I’m going to head on into bed,” she said, picking up the tea. “But thanks. Wake me for presents!” Carrying the tea down the hall with her, she was gone. Before eleven.

And Lizzie was alone.

So alone.

The year before had been the first she hadn’t made it back to Chicago, to Aunt Betty’s, for Christmas. But Nolan had been there with her and she’d figured it for just about the best Christmas ever.

And next year, Stella would be walking, playing with toys. She might still not be aware enough to know who Santa was, but she’d be engaged. Lizzie just had to get through this one year and—

She jumped at the sound of knocking at the door. She glanced toward it, then down the hall. Carmela wouldn’t have gone to bed if she was expecting anyone.

The knock came a second time and she got up, moved toward the door, looked through the peephole and then started to cry again.

It couldn’t be.

What was he doing there?

Wiping her eyes, she pulled open the door and Nolan stood there, in wrinkled clothes, the knot of his tie loosened down to his chest, a duffel over his shoulder, a big bag of what looked like wrapped packages as well as his sax case in one hand and an envelope in the other.

“What are you doing here?”

“First off, delivering this,” he said, handing her the envelope. He didn’t come in. Just stood there on the doorstep, holding his gear.

“You want to come in?”

“Open it.” His brown eyes were serious as he nodded toward the envelope and then looked back at her.

The business-size envelope held one piece of paper.

I, Nolan Fortune, tender my parental rights of my child, Stella Sullivan, to her mother, Elizabeth Sullivan.

His signature followed.

Her heart sank.

“I don’t understand.” Was he just giving up? Walking away from them?

Again?

“May I come in now? Carmela knows I was on my way.”

She had no reason to deny him. Except that her heart was breaking.

Sitting on the couch, Lizzie watched as he dropped his satchel and sax by the door and then brought the bag of gifts over. He sat, too. Not too close, but not far away, either.

Her heart was beating so hard she could feel the rhythm in her chest. She swallowed some tea and almost choked.

“Are you going home?” she asked him. He’d said he’d be back the day after Christmas. Did that mean he hadn’t left yet? That he’d been shopping for Stella and was on his way to the airport? But he’d texted earlier...