needs and problems instead of her own.
Margred Hunter, in Exam Room 2, could be a problem.
Liz glanced down at her notes; up at her patient. Sitting upright on the paper-covered table, Margred certainly appeared
healthy. Glowing dark eyes, abundant hair and breasts, slight, mysterious smile. Like a poster model for pregnancy, Liz
thought, or some pagan fertility goddess. Her physical exam confirmed her blood pressure was normal and she had only mild
edema. Her baby was head down and settling nicely into her pelvis.
But the woman was less than two weeks from her due date. She could go into labor at any time.
“About your birth plan,” Liz began.
Margred looked surprised. “We went over that at my appointment last week. When Caleb was here. He wants me to have
our baby at the hospital.”
“Which is great,” Liz said promptly. “They have a wonderful birthing center there and the best neonatal unit outside of
Portland. The thing is, you‟re already thirty percent effaced. Of course in an emergency, we can call LifeFlight or the Coast
Guard. But given your progress, I wonder if you had considered staying on the mainland until after the baby is born.”
“No,” Margred said simply. “Caleb cannot be away from the island. And I will not be away from Caleb.”
“As long as you understand the risks. We‟re a good ninety minutes by ferry from the mainland.”
“Less than an hour if Caleb‟s father takes us in his lobster boat.”
Liz blinked.
“That‟s how Regina got to the hospital,” Margred explained.
“Right. All right.” Liz blew out her breath. “I‟m still learning how to live on an island. Just promise me you‟ll call if you
have any questions or concerns.”
“Or contractions.”
“Those, too.” Smiling, Liz put a hand under Margred‟s elbow to help her down from the exam table. “You can make an
appointment with Nancy for next week. Assuming you make it that long.”
“I had better. My baby shower is Tuesday night.” Margred cocked her head. “You should come.”
“Oh.” Warm pleasure caught Liz unaware. But the situation was awkward. Margred‟s husband had picked up Liz‟s son for
questioning yesterday. Automatically, she retreated behind her familiar doctor-patient barriers. “Thank you, but it‟s hard for
me to get away in the evenings. I have a little girl.”
“I saw her, I think. In the waiting room?”
Most people didn‟t see a resemblance. Liz felt the tension in her shoulders relax. “That‟s right. Emily.”
Margred shrugged. “So bring her. Lobster bake at the point, seven o‟clock. There will be plenty of children. Regina‟s son
Nick is about your daughter‟s age.”
“I . . .” Liz bit her lip. Why not? Obviously any awkwardness was mostly in her own mind. And wasn‟t this why she
moved to the island? To form connections, to be part of a community with her children. “Thank you.”
“Thank you.” Margred‟s mouth curved with sly humor.
“Now if I go into early labor, I won‟t have to leave the party.”
Liz was laughing as she escorted her out front.
While Margred scheduled her appointment, Liz scanned the waiting area. Her daughter was camped in a cluster of chairs
pulled seat to seat into a makeshift fort.
And crouched on his heels at the entrance, his white blond hair even with the top of the chairs, was Morgan. He looked up,
eyes gleaming, golden, intent, like the eyes of a predator or the eyes in her dream.
Hot color swarmed her face.
“Elizabeth.” He rose to his feet with smooth, animal grace. He nodded as Margred finished at the front desk and came up
behind them. “Margred.”
“Morgan. I did not expect to find you here.”
“Nor I you.”
“Then what . . .” She looked from Morgan to Liz. Speculation glinted in her eyes. “Ah.”
Liz cleared her throat. There was an odd resemblance in the two faces that were otherwise so different, male and female,
dark and fair. Something in the expression or the eyes maybe, something fierce and proud and primal. “You two know each
other?”