Authors: Mary Jo Putney
Even
though he was wrung out as if he'd run a marathon, Kenzie couldn't take his
eyes off Rainey and their brand-new, redheaded daughter. "Not only did we
get the best prize of all, but your timing gave us a perfect excuse to skip all
the post-Oscar parties."
Rainey chuckled. She was tired and there
was smudged makeup around her eyes, but she looked beautiful and vastly
content, her apricot hair tumbling over the white hospital linens.
"There's no way I could have managed the parties, but I'm kind of sorry I
missed seeing Marcus and Naomi accept our Oscar for best picture of the
year."
"We can watch it later on
videotape." He hesitated. "Is it all right if I hold her?"
"Of course. She's half yours."
Carefully Rainey handed over the baby.
Terrified that he'd break her, he
cradled the infant in one arm, studying the tiny hands and dozing red face with
awe. His daughter.
His daughter.
She opened her eyes and blinked at him.
His heart somersaulted. He had not known that such instant, profound, unconditional
love existed. He was still terrified, but dimly he recognized that terror was a
normal condition of parenthood.
He made a solemn vow that this was one
baby who would be raised with the love and protection that all children
deserved, and so many tragically didn't get. Though he suspected that parenting
would be the most difficult role he'd ever tackled, between them he and Rainey
would do better than their own parents had.
"Have we decided which name we're
going to give her?" Rainey asked drowsily.
"Faith," he said softly as he
returned his daughter to his wife. "We'll call her Faith."
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