From Doctor...to Daddy / When the Cowboy Said ''I Do'': From Doctor...to Daddy

“She’ll probably enjoy the snow this year,” Dillon offered, suddenly needing to be part of the conversation, not wanting to feel like an outsider.

Erika tossed a look over her shoulder as she sat Emilia on the changing table, holding onto her at her waist. “She’ll be fascinated by it,” Erika agreed. “And I can’t wait for the holidays. She’ll be able to dip her hands in the cookie dough, notice the angel on top of the tree and maybe understand a little of the magic of the season.”

“You still find it magical?”

Erika nodded, then added, “And holy.”

The true meaning of Christmas had fallen by the wayside for Dillon. Since Toby had died and Megan had left, all the holiday meant was a dinner with his mother and Peter and his brothers and sister. But suddenly, standing here with Erika and her little girl, he saw even that dinner in a different light. A family was bigger than the sum of its individual parts, much bigger. Maybe his resentful feelings about Peter had been one more element that had marred his marriage and his feelings about his family for too many years.

As Erika carried Emilia to her crib, she said, “You look as if you’re deep in thought.”

“Not too deep,” he returned nonchalantly, but he could see she wasn’t buying it.

She took a stuffed dog from the corner of the crib and handed it to Emilia. Her daughter tucked the dog into her body like the precious comfort that it was.

“Can you say good-night to Dr. Dillon?” Erika asked her.

Emilia held on to the crib railing, rocking back and forth from one foot to the other. Then she smiled at him and said, “Nighty-night, Dr. Diwwon.”

The tug toward mother and child was so strong Dillon couldn’t resist. Crossing to them, he gave Emilia a good-night hug. “Nighty-night, little one.” Then in turmoil because of conflicting emotions, he said, “I’ll wait downstairs,” and left the nursery.

Fifteen minutes later, he’d straightened the books on the coffee table and righted the cushions on the sofa. Erika descended the stairs, adjusted the baby monitor on the side table and sank down on the couch a few inches away from him.

“Thank you,” she said, motioning to the room. “You didn’t have to straighten up.”

“I needed something to do.”