Dragon's Hope: Dragon Eggs, #2
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As their wedding day fast approaches, Rose's nerves hit their peak. More and more, she finds herself drawn to the other dragon eggs, pleading with them to hatch so that she won't be the only mother to a baby dragon in New York City.
But when one of other eggs finally does awaken, the second dragon bonds with someone Rose would never have expected . . . and who does not seem suitable as a parent.
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Dragon's Hope - Emily Martha Sorensen
Chapter 1: Hall
She wasn’t really clear on why she was here, in the Hall of Saurischian Dragons, rather than getting ready for the day that was supposed to be the most important of her life. After all, she had a very full schedule today. Her roommates would be incredulous if they discovered where she’d snuck off to.
But something had drawn Rose back to the museum.
The crowd oozed past Rose as she watched the eleven Deinonychus antirrhopus dragon eggs that now remained in the display case. They lay there silently. Still.
You’re not dead,
Rose murmured under her breath. If Virgil wasn’t, if another dragon out in Utah wasn’t, you’re all living, too. So wake up.
A cluster of children passed her, following a harassed-looking nanny. Would you two stop poking each other?
the woman complained, separating a boy and girl who were jabbing fingers into each others’ ears. And you —!
The milling mob of children passed in front of her, momentarily blocking the display case. As her view cleared, Rose held her breath, wondering if another egg had woken. But no. The mob was past. The nanny was gone.
Rose let out a long sigh.
She wasn’t sure why it seemed so important to her that the other eggs awakened. She certainly was not looking to adopt a second child; she barely knew what she and Henry would do with the first one. Why was it that it mattered to her, then?
Rose stood there, lost in thought, troubled by the fervency of her desire. What was it? What was the reason?
The eggs did nothing. The crowd kept passing in front of her, sometimes jostling her, sometimes blocking her view, but always the eggs remained the same, still and in deep hibernation. Hibernation, because surely they must still be alive.
Why? Why did it matter so much?
Of course there was the obvious answer. As a prospective paleontologist, she had every reason to be fascinated by the prospect of living dragons. The fact that one had chosen her to be his mother bore no weight: she could not treat her son as a research subject. She, in fact, dared not. Another person’s dragon child, however, she could treat with scientific objectivity. She would dearly like to have such an opportunity.
Then, too, there was the fact that Virgil was currently the only living dragon in this part of the country. Were he to be the only member of his species within his lifetime, it would be difficult to play with other children safely, or to feel like he had any place in the world other than as a relic, a living fossil of an ancient and long-dead age.
No child deserved to feel that way.
A raucous little boy burst out laughing as he ran toward the Tyrannosaurus rex skeleton displayed prominently behind her. Its wings are tiny!
he shouted. Its arms are even smaller! It looks so dumb! Ha ha ha!
Rose closed her eyes. Mockery of a skeleton was one thing. But would her son have to deal with similar thoughtlessness from other human children his age?
Please hatch, Rose thought, blinking back tears. Not for my son’s sake. I’m more selfish than that. I don’t want to be the only mother to a dragon in New York City. I don’t want to be the only one going through this.
Oh, there was Henry, of course. But Henry’s cheerful optimism and unflagging enthusiasm seemed to belie any real understanding of the challenges they were going to have to face. When Rose attempted to speak to him of all her worries, he simply turned a deaf ear, or else changed the subject to something more positive.
Perhaps he did it because he saw no value in borrowing trouble that might never surface. Perhaps he preferred to focus on the prospect of fatherhood, in which he seemed to take unending delight. That was valid. But to Rose, who felt far more terror than joy at the prospect of parenthood, it was also isolating.
If another dragon hatched, she thought, there would be another woman in the city who would understand how I feel. Perhaps it wouldn’t even matter who she was.
All the professors and paleontologists and zoologists who had quietly and confidentially assembled to study the dragon were men. Rose wanted their respect, not their dismissal, so she dared not speak to any of them about feelings. One day, after all, she hoped to be among them, and to act like an emotional woman in front of them would only sabotage