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before she thought. “I cain’t.” I cain’t be livin’ with another man! And how could she raise his baby, become attached to her, but have to leave when Camilla was grown enough to not need her care? Nor could she let her sons become attached to the man and child. The pain of having to leave again would be hard on them.
    “Lass,” the doctor said gently. “Mrs. Valleau. Without you to nurse her, the baby won’t survive. As it is, her life will be touch and go. She’ll need more care than a busy farmer, no matter how devoted a father, can give her.”
    As the meaning of the doctor’s words hit, Erik first looked stunned. His face reddened as if he was going to cry. He took a shuddering breath. “The house isn’t that big, but I could build a room for you and your children. Most of my money is invested in the farm, but I could pay you a little.”
    Her heart pounding, Antonia wanted to grab her boys and run back to the mountains to Jean-Claude’s waiting arms. But Jean-Claude was buried in a cold grave. She had nothing and no one to run to. This would provide her and the boys some security. But still she wavered. Then she looked up at Erik Muth’s face and saw the pain in his eyes, his imploring expression. She glanced at the little Camilla, already so dear to her. Did she really have a choice? She had nowhere else to go and couldn’t let the child die. “I’ll do it.”
    Mr. Muth’s shoulders sagged in relief. He closed his eyes, took a breath, and opened them again. “Thank you. I promise to do everything I can to make life comfortable for your family.”
    Dr. Cameron smiled. “That’s settled, then. I have a good feelin’ about your wee lassie. I think with regular nourishment and the tender care she’ll receive from Mrs. Valleau here, Mr. Muth, you just might be able to walk her down the aisle someday.”
    Will I be there to see Camilla wed? Antonia wondered.
    “Mrs. Cameron has prepared us some food.” The doctor waved toward the door. “I hope you like haggis .” At their blank looks, he laughed. “I was just joking.” His brogue deepened. “ Haggis is liver, onion, oatmeal, and spices cooked in a sheep’s stomach—an acquired taste. I left my wife fryin’ up some bacon, and it smelled vera enticing. Come. Join us for a meal.”
    Antonia hadn’t tasted bacon in ages. Yet, even the thought of a former favorite food did nothing for her nonexistent appetite.
    The doctor nudged Mr. Muth’s shoulder and urged him toward the door, the new pa glancing down at the sleeping child he held.
    Antonia waited a moment before following the men. She needed to catch her breath, to brace herself for the new future.

    As Erik walked toward the kitchen, carrying his daughter, he doubted he’d be able to eat a bite. His stomach felt like a varmint had wrestled with his innards, a stone stuck in his throat, and grief weighed down his limbs. He just wanted to go find a cave, crawl inside, and hibernate away from the world for a while, but—he looked down at his daughter—doing so would mean giving up on his responsibilities. He had a child, a farm, and—he glanced over at Mrs. Valleau—now more people depending on him.
    He stepped into the kitchen, crowded with adults and children. The smell of frying bacon made his stomach change its mind. His belly gave out a huge growl, which both embarrassed him and made him realize that he hadn’t eaten since yesterday.
    Mrs. Cameron stood at the stove cooking, while Mrs. Norton set the table with flowered china dishes of the type Daisy had coveted. He’d planned to get them for her as a Christmas present. Pain stabbed him. Why did I wait? Why didn’t I make an effort to buy her more of the pretty things she wanted, instead of putting all my money back into the farm? Why did we argue about something so trivial? I was so selfish!
    Guilt settled in his stomach, the lump stealing away his appetite.
    Mrs. Valleau had been standing silently to one side of the room,