A Baby...Maybe? & How to Hunt a Husband Read Online Free PDF Page A

until you decide you want to be found.”
    After Cara said her goodbyes to Kate and Tony, she called the airline and booked herself on the first flight to Houston the next morning. Nothing was going to stop Cara from getting away from her mother and her marriage-minded meddling.
    Cara opened the closet door and stared at the clothes hanging there. What did she have that was appropriate for a vacation in Texas?
    There were the calf-length dirndl skirts, wide and loose enough for getting down on the floor to play with the kids. A variety of buttoned-down shirts, high at the neck and modest to the point of being virginal. She had plenty of clothes all right. A closet brimming with modest skirts, slacks, shirts and sweaters—the clothes of a quiet, conservative schoolmarm. Was that the look she wanted for this vacation, or was that actually the look she was escaping? Suddenly afraid to make such a momentous decision, she turned on the weather station and monitored the Houston-area weather—sunny, with the chance of rain, high in the low eighties and humid. The eighties. In March, no less. Wonders never cease.
    Hot enough to go naked. Even though she was all alone in her apartment, Cara blushed. Where had that idea come from? Her naked? Well, why not? She was on vacation. She didn’t have her mother watching over her, dictating her every move. She not only could sleep naked, she could walk around the room naked. She could answer the doorbell naked. Okay, maybe that was going too far, but still, naked was freedom.
    She laid her khakis carefully over the back of the chair along with a powder-blue short-sleeve sweater.
    She opened her travel bag and packed three moreshort-sleeved sweaters, and then she reached slowly into the closet for her one tank top, the one she always wore with a shirt over it. No more. At least no more for the next week. Underpants, bras, socks and a belt followed. She was about to throw in her favorite brushed-cotton nightie with the sweet-pea flowers, long Shakespearean sleeves and a high neck trimmed with a heavy lace that practically covered her hands and made sure no cold air got anywhere close to her neck. But something stopped her. She held the gown for barely a second before putting it back in the drawer. This was her breakout trip, and she wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to sleep naked by bringing a nightgown.
    She totally threw caution to the wind when she climbed up the stepladder to get her strappy white sandals, the ones with the two-inch heels she had bought on sale two summers ago and had never worn. She carefully wrapped each shoe in a plastic grocery sack. She was going to be daring and bold, she promised herself. Wearing white sandals when it was weeks and weeks before Memorial Day would be almost as daring as sleeping naked. She wondered if she should sleep naked with the sandals on, and giggled. That wouldn’t be such a bad idea. She could answer the doorbell with nothing on but those white sandals.
    Except with her luck, it would be someone like Billy the waste disposal man on the other side of the door. That thought was depressing, until Cara remembered peepholes, and knew she didn’t have to open the door to any Billys.
    She tucked her toiletries—safely packed in plastic zippered sandwich bags—into all remaining crevices. Cara glanced around the bedroom, making sure she wasn’t forgetting anything. Coco Mademoiselle. Still in the box, unopened, the clear plastic wrap a testament to its forlorn status on the dresser. She had tried on the perfume in the department store and loved it. Had bought it on a whim, like the sandals. Hadn’t worn it, either.
    She unwrapped the package and sprayed the perfume on her neck and wrists, inhaling deeply. Good. Just as she remembered. Into the bag it went. Then she took it out again and sprayed everything she had packed in the bag with Coco Mademoiselle.
    She thought she had everything ready to go until