Year One (Chronicles of the One, #1)

by Nora Roberts

memories. And as grown men, they had brought their wives,

had crawled back into their holes with the

him now, but I wish we didn’t have to leave him

to start the car while Eddie called the dog. “You

I found some potato rolls stuffed into the freezer

photograph than life.” She

“I’ll talk to him later.” “Okay, well, see Max’s brother had a friend

He cut himself off as Max strode up. “They just went in. I’ll show you.” Lana changed into an exam gown while Rachel explained that they’d scavenged supplies and equipment from hospitals and clinics en route. “We still need more, but at the time we didn’t have room to take more. And some of what we have we can’t use until we get power up again. Fingers crossed there. Come on in, Max. First, you estimate four and a half months, so eighteen weeks?” “She was conceived on January second. That’s certain.” “Date of your last period?” “I honestly don’t know, but I know the conception date.” “All right.” Rachel walked to a calendar on the wall, flipped back, counted. “Eighteen weeks, three days. That puts your due date at … best estimate going forty weeks from conception, at September twenty-fifth.” “But, nine months would be early September.” Rachel let the calendar flip back down, smiled. “It’s actually ten months’ gestation. Forty weeks.” “Then why do they say nine? See,” she said to Max. “I know nothing.” “You know now.” Rachel gestured toward the scale. “Do you know your weight pre-pregnancy?” “A hundred and sixteen. Oh God, I have to get on there, don’t I?” Resigned, Lana stepped on the scale, but closed her eyes. “Height, five feet, six and a quarter inches. Weight one-twenty-six.” “Ten pounds?” Lana’s eyes popped open. “Ten?” “Is excellent for your stage of pregnancy. With your height and build, a twenty-five- to thirty-five-pound weight gain would be very good. But everyo...