Page 13 of Conail (Members From Money Season 2, #150)

Maeve put the cup of steaming organic tea before her daughter and stepped back. She was careful not to allow her concern to show. Yasmine was four weeks pregnant, and the symptoms were coming fast and furious. The poor girl was unable to hold down anything.

"Thanks, Mama." She was in her room because she was too weak to go downstairs. The scent of the Thanksgiving meal had sent her rushing to the bathroom to empty her stomach. The pills that had been prescribed to counter the sickness were not doing a damn thing.

"I was sick as a dog with you and Colin." She settled on the sofa in front of the bed. "With you, it was the entire nine months. I wanted to die. At times it seemed as if I would not make it to the next day."

She eyed her mother over the rim of the cup and was careful not to point out that the baby she was carrying inside her womb would never be hers. She was also careful not to point out the fact that she wanted it to be hers.

"I never knew that. This tea is doing the trick."

"Good. Should I call the doctor?"

"No." She shook her head. "Hopefully it will pass in another few minutes." She eyed her mother. "And your admission makes me appreciate you more."

Maeve gave her hand a squeeze. "What you're doing is so brave and wonderful." Her eyes moistened. "We cannot tell you how much it means to me. The greenhouse is almost finished, and your dad is already making plans and arranging stuff. He's busy and that's what I always wanted."

That made her feel so much better and reminded her why she was doing this in the first place.

Her brother was not so exhausted and was taking time for some fun.

It amused her to see the dance between him and Maddy.

Her friend had told her of their encounter in the barn where he had kissed her and ripped her blouse and then shoved her away to stalk out. He had been avoiding her ever since.

"And your baking is taking on a whole different level."

Maeve beamed despite her worry. "These weeks leading up to the holidays have been so busy. I had to hire two more people to get the orders out." She shook her head. "It just seems as if you're getting the wrong end of the stick."

"No, I'm not." She waved a hand airily. "I get to be waited on hand and foot. Which reminds me, you don't have to be running up and down the stairs to bring me tea and biscuits."

"It's the least I can do." She rose. "Is there anything else you need?"

"No. This is starting to do the trick, and I have some work to do."

"Honey?" her mother turned at the door.

"Yes?"

"Do you regret doing it?"

Yasmine thought of saying what was on her mind but decided her mother did not need the worry. "Not one bit," she assured her. "I would do it again."

Beaming a smile, Maeve left, closing the door behind her.

Putting away the cup, Yasmine rose unsteadily.

Her stomach still felt like she had swallowed sandpaper.

Rubbing her hand against her stomach, she walked over to the window.

Dusk was already falling and the departing sun cast a rosy glow over the various colored leaves on the trees.

She had always loved fall, the changing and brilliant colors and the chill in the air.

She had been out early this morning, just walking and taking deep breaths.

Signs of activity around the farm warmed her heart and reminded her why she was going through these changes in her body.

A baby was forming inside her uterus. She could feel it and everything was real.

Her nipples were tender and sensitive and each time she brushed her fingers against the rigid flesh, an electric shock went through her body.

Another problem was the lust and the yearning to feel a man inside her.

It was frustrating. And obviously one of the side effects she could do nothing about.

Rubbing a hand over her stomach, she felt the tears stinging the back of her eyes.

Another blasted symptom. Her hormones were all over the place.

And she was doing the unthinkable and the inadvisable.

She was having conversations with the embryo.

It was not recommended. All the books said so.

The doctor and nurse advised against it.

But what the hell did they know? she thought irritably.

It was her body and her-- her mind came to a standstill.

It wasn't her baby. She had signed a contract that would have her relinquishing ownership.

She was just a vessel and that was depressing her. She was already bonding.

She jolted at the knock on the door. Before she could call out, it was pushed open and her brother stepped in.

Her brows lifted as she took in the tan dress pants, dull gold sweater and navy blazer.

"Look at you."

He tugged at the lapel a little uneasily. "I'm going out. On a date."

"Obviously. I did not think you were going to feed the animals dressed like that. With Maddy?"

His eyes flashed. "Why the hell would you think that?"

"My windows overlook the barn. And the doors were open. I could not help but see the lip lock going on."

"It was a mistake," he muttered.

"Was it?"

His mouth tightened as he wandered into the room and started picking up her designs. "This sounds like an interrogation."

"You had your tongue stuck down her throat and now you're going out with Bella. Think about that."

"Just--" Slapping down the designs, he spun around and strode to the window, jamming his hands in his pockets. "It was a mistake. She's infuriating and an irritant."

"One you cannot quite forget." She had come up behind him.

He did not turn around but continued to stare broodingly out the window.

His duties were finished for the evening, and he should be feeling happy that his job was now cut in half.

The farm was picking up; the greenhouse was almost finished.

He was involved with a beautiful woman, but he was far from contented.

He was restless and edgy and if he was being honest with himself, he had an ache going on for a woman he wanted to tear from his heart.

The kiss in the barn had proven that there was no getting over her and the heat was there.

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."