Celebrity in Braxton Falls
Judy Campbell
Enter into the world of high-flying Doctors as they navigate the pressures of modern medicine and find escape, passion, comfort and love – in each other’s arms!Immune to his charms?Arrogant and charming, celebrity doctor Denovan O’Mara has his female patients all in a flutter – but GP Kerry Latimer’s not fooled for a second. Or is she?Briefly working with Denovan, Kerry gets to know and care for the man behind the image – enough to take a risk and open her heart to love again…?
‘Seems we’ve learnt quite a bit about each other in the past twenty-four hours, haven’t we?’
‘Yes. I suppose so.’
‘And one of the things I’ve learnt about you, Kerry, is that you’re one feisty woman.’
His arm was still around her, holding her against him, and he leant forward and brushed her forehead with his lips. She didn’t draw back. Rather, she allowed herself to imagine the sweetness of his mouth on hers—because wasn’t this secretly what she had been longing for, perhaps even needing?
In the back of her mind a little voice whispered, You ‘re mad—you’ve only known this guy for two days! Whatever Denovan said, they were still almost strangers. She didn’t know his background, or what sadness he referred to in his past, and he’d only brushed his lips across her forehead, but in that moment she realised that she had been attracted to him from the first moment she’d seen him.
She pressed her lips to his cheek, responding to his feather-light kiss with eagerness, giving in to the clamour of her own longing. A kind of dizzy freedom from the sadness and constraints of the past year swept through her, and she couldn’t help her response—an almost compulsive need to make love to this man she’d only known for such a short time.
Dear Reader
The idea for this story came from reading about a family feud and how it affected the other people involved. I wondered how it might impinge on the lives of two people in love if they were caught up in a feud—could it ruin their future? Or would they be able to overcome all obstacles and find future happiness together?
I set the story in the beautiful countryside of the Peak District, although Braxton Falls is an imaginary village. I hope I’ve brought a flavour of the area to the story, and the sense of community that binds a small place together in adversity.
I so enjoyed writing this story—I hope you will find pleasure in reading it.
Best wishes
Judy
About the Author
JUDY CAMPBELL is from Cheshire. As a teenager she spent a great year at high school in Oregon, USA, as an exchange student. She has worked in a variety of jobs, including teaching young children, being a secretary and running a small family business. Her husband comes from a medical family, and one of their three grown-up children is a GP. Any spare time—when she’s not writing romantic fiction—is spent playing golf, especially in the Highlands of Scotland.
Recent titles by the same author:
REUNITED: A MIRACLE MARRIAGE
FROM SINGLE MUM TO LADY
HIRED: GP AND WIFE
THE GP’S MARRIAGE WISH
These books are also available in eBook format from www.millsandboon.co.uk
Celebrity in
Braxton Falls
Judy Campbell
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CHAPTER ONE
‘GOLDEN sands fringed by waving palms, an azure sea and balmy days that you will love …’
The photograph of an idyllic beach scene underneath the caption in the brochure looked impossibly alluring—Kerry Latimer could almost feel the texture of the warm sand between her toes, imagine the limpid water lapping against her body, the sun sparkling on the waves, palm trees rustling in the light wind …
‘Too right I’d love it,’ she muttered wryly, then tore the brochure firmly in two, crushing it into a ball and flinging it sadly into the waste-paper basket. ‘A shame I won’t be going to the golden sands and azure sea after all …’
She looked bleakly through the surgery window, made blurry by the lashing rain, and at the dark sky outside, with the glowering shadows on the hills in the distance. During the past few days there had been a continuous torrential downpour, and the river flowing through the village was ominously high—a world away from dreamy islands in the middle of the Caribbean and their sunny climes. If only Frank had been more careful. If only he’d slowed down a bit, she would be almost there by now.
The horribly expensive pale coral silk dress hanging in its clear plastic cover on the wall of the surgery caught her eye—at this very moment she ought to have been on a plane, tossing back champagne as she winged her way to her cousin’s wedding in Tobago, looking forward to wearing the dress later that week as one of her cousin’s bridesmaids. Now, of course, after what had happened, she was stuck at work in Braxton Falls for the foreseeable future, covering for Frank, any hope of jetting off to beautiful sun-kissed beaches absolutely scuppered.
‘Just my luck that my first holiday after a year’s hard grind should be hijacked.’ Kerry sighed—there was nothing she could do about the situation but grit her teeth and bear it, as her mother used to say.
She picked up the phone on her desk, and stabbed out a number. ‘Hello?’ she said as it was answered. ‘Is that Denovan O’Mara? This is Kerry Latimer. I’m a colleague of your brother’s at The Larches Medical Centre. I’m afraid that I’ve some bad news about him …’ She took a deep breath and said gently, ‘I’m very sorry to tell you that Frank was in a car accident last night and was seriously injured.’
There was a second’s silence—Kerry imagined the shock Denovan would feel as he received the information about his half-brother, and she waited for the appalled intake of breath at the news, the concerned enquiry about his condition.
The reply sounded exasperated rather than anxious. ‘The stupid fool—what the hell was he doing?’
Kerry stared at the phone, rather taken aback—it seemed a callous response to such awful news. ‘We think Frank touched the accelerator instead of the brake—it’s an automatic car—and he went through the garage door and out of the back wall of the garage down a steep incline, hitting a tree.’
A derisive short laugh. ‘I don’t suppose I’m all that surprised—it’s typical of him. I always knew Frank was an accident waiting to happen—he’s impatient and reckless. Were any other people injured?’
‘No,’ she answered coldly. ‘No one else was involved.’
‘Well, that’s a blessing—he’s an awful driver.’ Privately Kerry agreed with Denovan—Frank always seemed to be taking corners too fast and scraping his car, or denting his bumpers when he reversed.
‘So where is he now?’ asked Denovan briskly.
‘He’s in the local hospital at the moment, but will probably be transferred to Derby for further detailed trauma scans. He has serious injuries to his head and a very bruised back. He’s stable but in an induced coma. I thought I should let you know as I believe you’re his only relative.’
‘I see. Well, I suppose I’ll have to come up then, although it’s highly inconvenient. I could really do without this.’
‘Excuse me?’ What was this man like, and how self-centred could you be, weighing inconvenience with seeing a desperately ill brother? Kerry felt a slow burn of anger. If anyone should feel aggrieved, it was she, Kerry Latimer—obliged to cancel her holiday at the last minute, and then having to hold the fort at a two-handed medical practice for the foreseeable future.
Denovan’s voice sounded tetchy. ‘I’m in negotiations for a new contract and it could be rather tricky to leave at the moment.’ Then he added unenthusiastically, ‘But I will come up, of course.’
‘If you think you can spare the time,’ said Kerry sarcastically. ‘He is very poorly, you know.’
‘I’m sure he is. Sounds as if he’ll be out of commission for a while—that won’t make your job any easier, I guess,’ he conceded. ‘I’ll be up when I’ve finished the programme this morning. I should be in Braxton later this afternoon.’
‘I’m sure he’ll be delighted to see you when he comes round.’
There was a short mirthless laugh at the other end of the line. ‘You think?’
‘Of course he will!’ said Kerry rather indignantly. ‘I assume you’ll stay at his house?’
‘I’ll stay in the local hotel—what’s it called? The Pear Tree?’
‘Do you want me to book you a room?’
The voice softened. ‘That’s kind of you. One night will do. And it was good of you to let me know about Frank, I appreciate it. I’ll see you when I arrive.’
The phone clicked and Kerry leaned back in her chair, frowning, and tapped a pencil against her teeth. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of Denovan O’Mara—known to a huge following of adoring fans as ‘TV’s Dr Medic’, helped in no small part by his good looks and knowledgeable, kindly manner.
Kerry grimaced—she felt she’d seen the real Denovan O’Mara a few seconds ago, and it revealed the flipside to his smooth public image—an impatient, irritable and arrogant side. And talk about unsympathetic. If he was as unfeeling as he seemed to be with his brother’s plight, what was his bedside manner like with patients?
She’d never actually met Denovan face-to-face, just seen him occasionally on some morning breakfast show, giving his opinion and advice on the latest medical news story or answering viewers’ concerns—every inch the glamorous and dreamy TV celebrity doctor with trademark tousled dark hair and piercing blue eyes. His strong, aquiline features regularly appeared on magazine covers, his advice was given in many newspaper articles and, in fact, he seemed to be always in the public eye, but from the conversation she’d just had with him, Kerry wasn’t sure she was in a hurry to meet him personally.
‘Talk about arrogant and selfish,’ Kerry muttered as she sorted out the mail left on her desk. ‘The guy only seems to think of the inconvenience he’s been caused, with not an ounce of sympathy for Frank.’
It was Denovan, the younger of the two brothers, who had the celebrity looks. Frank was a good, reliable doctor and Kerry had a high opinion of his work, although he had a short fuse, even worse now he was divorced—and perhaps in that respect there was a similarity between the two men! Anyway, Kerry could put up with Frank’s occasional moods because she loved working in beautiful Braxton Falls.
The brothers certainly didn’t appear to be close. As far as she knew, Denovan had never been up to Braxton since their father had died six years ago, and Frank rarely spoke of him. Now she came to think of it, the few times she had heard Frank mention his brother, it had been in slightly mocking tones, implying that Denovan thought highly of himself and his celebrity role and was rather a womaniser, never seen with the same girl twice. Having just spoken to Denovan, she thought Frank might have had a point!
Kerry flicked a look at her watch and guiltily started up her computer, clicking on to the patients she had listed for that morning. No good musing about the brothers’ relationship with each other—it was nothing to do with her. The list was a full one, reflecting the fact that she’d got some of Frank’s patients too—it was going to be a hard slog over the next few weeks, trying to cope by herself without help.
But, boy, was she in need of a holiday. She’d looked forward to being her cousin’s bridesmaid for months, and with the wedding set in such an exotic location it had been extra thrilling. It had been something to take her mind off the emotional roller-coaster she’d experienced over the past year. She closed her eyes for a second and swallowed hard, trying to blank out of her mind the heartache and loneliness she’d endured after the shock of Andy’s death—at times she wondered if she’d ever get over it. In a world that seemed to be filled with couples it was hard to force herself as a single woman to go out and socialise, and consequently her social life was pretty non-existent. She was getting used to single meals heated up in the microwave. That was why this holiday was going to be such a momentous thing, supposedly kick-starting her to a more positive future. She put all the medical magazines that had arrived to one side and quickly shuffled through the printed emails that had come through with blood-test results and hospital appointments, forcing her mind on to other things. But the incipient headache that had been threatening for some time came on more persistently and she swallowed two painkillers before putting her printouts neatly in her in-tray.
There was a tap on the door, and Daphne Clark, one of the receptionists, came in with a cup of coffee.
‘I thought you might need this,’ she said. ‘After all the excitement last night and getting Frank into hospital you must be exhausted. Have you heard how he is?’
‘He may be moved some time today to Derby for further tests, but I can tell you that it’ll be a long time before he can get back to work again. I’m on the lookout for a locum urgently, though I doubt I’ll get one.’ Kerry’s voice was gloomy. ‘The man that was going to replace me when I was away rang up only yesterday to say he couldn’t take the job on after all.’
Daphne shook her head sympathetically as she handed her the coffee. ‘It’s such a terrible shame about your holiday.’
‘If only he’d waited to have this damn accident when I was safely in Tobago!’ Kerry said, then she grinned ruefully. ‘Oh, no. Forget I said that! Of course I’m very sorry for poor old Frank. He’s in a bad way and he certainly didn’t mean to crash his car. I guess it was at the end of a long day and he wasn’t concentrating.’
‘Could you not have gone anyway on a later flight perhaps and asked the medical centre in Laystone to take over?’
‘I don’t know if they could have taken it on at such short notice, and anyway,’ she admitted candidly, ‘I couldn’t possibly have left Frank, knowing how ill he is.’ Kerry took a gulp of the coffee and smiled, raising the cup in salute. ‘Now, this is doing me more good than anything could—a large injection of caffeine is just what I needed. And talking of holidays, you might go and put that bridesmaid’s dress in its box because every time I see it I want to cry! Oh, and by the way, would you please book a room for Frank’s brother at the Pear Tree? He’s coming up this afternoon to see Frank.’
Daphne’s round face beamed. ‘Not the gorgeous Dr Medic? Certainly I will—I shall ask him to give me an autograph for my mother—she’s potty about him. Watches every single programme he’s on and says he makes her feel better just looking and listening to him.’
Kerry raised an eyebrow. ‘He didn’t sound all that charming to me. More annoyed that he had to make time to come up here. I think he’s a crusty self-centred old bachelor!’
‘Don’t say that,’ protested Daphne, as she walked out. ‘I may have been married for seventeen years and have three children, but I can still dream about impossibly handsome men and romance, can’t I?’
She unhooked the bridesmaid’s dress from the wall and folded it carefully over her arm. ‘By the way, Liz Ferris wants you to go and see old Nellie Styles if you can. She had a another fall yesterday and Liz feels she needs an assessment prior to getting some carers in. Of course Nellie won’t have it—she told Liz that she wouldn’t allow any more community nurses in, she could manage fine by herself and she wasn’t having any of those meals on wheels either! ‘
Kerry laughed. Nellie Styles was a feisty and wilful old lady, but she couldn’t help admiring her. ‘I’ll go at lunchtime,’ she promised. ‘Then hopefully I’ll be back to greet Denovan O’Mara—but I’m not looking forward to it particularly. I have a feeling he and I might not hit it off!’
Inside Nellie Styles’s cottage it was very cold, and there was a general air of neglect about the place. The little home she took such pride in had deteriorated, thought Kerry sadly. A few months ago it had been spotless, every surface gleaming and the brasses round the fireplace twinkling. Now there were bundles of local papers and magazines littering the floor. The many photographs of Nellie’s scattered family were filmed with dust and there were dead flies on the windowsills and plates of uneaten food on the table in the living room. It was a picture of decline Kerry had seen before in some of her elderly infirm patients whose relations lived too far away to help. She would have to persuade Nellie somehow that the time had come to accept help.
The old lady was standing precariously by the door to her kitchen, clinging to the back of a bookcase. She had an old blanket wrapped round her shoulders and she looked pinched and cold. She turned round as Kerry entered, a frown crossing her face when she saw who it was.
‘I thought that nurse said Dr O’Mara was coming today,’ she said grumpily.
‘I’m afraid Dr O’Mara’s been in an accident and injured himself rather badly. I don’t think he’ll be back for a while.’
Nellie pursed her lips. ‘The way he screeches through the village in that car of his it’s a miracle he hasn’t come to grief before.’
The old lady turned back to her chair and staggered slightly as she let go of her support. Kerry went swiftly over to her and guided her gently back to her seat.
‘It’s a bit cold in here, Nellie, you haven’t got your fire on,’ she said, bending down and switching on the electric fire in the grate. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Not bad … not bad. Just a bit chilled, like, but what can you expect with this weather? I’ve not seen so much rain for many years.’
Kerry nodded—she’d had to cross parts of the road near Nellie’s that were awash with huge puddles, and even from here she could hear the river gushing as it flowed along the main village road.
‘Perhaps it’ll stop raining soon, it did look a little lighter over the hills,’ she said brightly. ‘Now, Nellie, have you had anything to eat or drink today?’
Nellie looked evasive. ‘I was just about to get myself a little something.’
‘A bowl of soup might warm you up—I can easily heat some in a saucepan—and before you say anything, it isn’t too much trouble.’
Kerry smiled at the old lady persuasively and was rewarded by a flicker of interest in her eyes. ‘Well, just to please you, like, a little bit in a cup would be grand.’
In a few minutes thin hands were clasped round the warm cup and Nellie was sipping the soup eagerly, a little colour returning to her pale cheeks. ‘That’s very nice, Doctor, but I could have got it myself, you know.’
‘I know you could, Nellie, but I want you to have a little rest for a while. I don’t think you’ve ever recovered your strength from that last infection.’
Nellie’s eyes flashed rebelliously. ‘I’m not going back into that hospital, whatever you say!’
Kerry patted her hand. ‘I don’t want you to, but I do want to get you some help, just for the time being. Someone who can bring you a little food every day and perhaps do your washing, build you up a little—otherwise you’re going to end up in hospital anyway.’
Nellie’s frail old face looked fiercely at Kerry for a minute, then slowly her expression changed to one of resignation and she nodded her head slowly. ‘Perhaps I am a bit run-down. If you could organise something, then—just temporary, mind!’
She must be feeling pretty awful to capitulate like that, thought Kerry. It was never easy to admit, after years of independence, that the time had come to be cared for.
‘I’ll see to it,’ promised Kerry. ‘In the meantime, Liz Ferris will be popping in to see that you’re OK.’
‘That Liz Ferris,’ grumbled Nellie. ‘She’s always getting on at me to put more fires on and get more food in. She must think I’m made of money!’
‘Now, now, Nellie—she’s only doing it for your own good, you know. We’re all very fond of you and want you to get stronger.’
Nellie looked slightly mollified. ‘I know, lass, I know.’ She took another sip of soup and then looked up at Kerry inquisitively. ‘So what will you do now without Dr O’Mara?’
‘Oh, I’m sure I can get someone to fill in fairly soon,’ said Kerry, with more assurance than she felt. She’d already been in touch with several agencies in the area with no luck.
‘I knew Frank O’Mara when he was a little boy—him and his brother. I used to do some cooking for them,’ said Nellie, taking another sip of soup. ‘Ee, they were chalk and cheese, those lads. And wild—always at each other’s throats! Of course,’ the old lady reminisced, ‘that father of theirs was hard on them, and after he lost his first wife and his second wife left them all so sudden, like—well, they were left to their own devices and they were right tearaways!’
‘I hope they’ve got over their differences now. His brother’s coming up this afternoon to see Dr Frank,’ said Kerry.
Nellie gave a cackle of laughter. ‘Well, you may get fireworks between them—their father was a difficult, womanising man—perhaps they’ve taken after him! I always wondered if that was why Denovan’s mother left—she was only young herself. But it was a cruel thing, if you ask me, to leave a young lad like that. You’ll have to act as referee between them, my dear!’
That’s the last thing I’m going to do, thought Kerry as she left the cottage. I shall stay well clear of both of them. She had enough on her plate without keeping the peace between two grown men! She had to admit, however, that the unexpected revelation Nellie had given about the O’Mara boys’ childhood was rather intriguing. It sounded as if their childhood had not been a happy one.
She drove back to the surgery. The rain still beating down remorselessly—she wasn’t surprised that the small car park was covered in huge puddles. A red sports car had taken the only dry slot near the staff spaces, so that Kerry had to park awkwardly against a wall and squeeze out of her door, putting her feet into a small pothole filled with water. She opened the boot and took out a large file and her medical bag, holding them in both arms as she picked her way over the flooded car park, the rain lashing down onto her and soaking her hair and clothes.
She squelched crossly into the building, hoping she could dry her feet out before the late afternoon surgery. Surely the day couldn’t get any worse! No happy holiday, just continual rain and cold and the prospect of weeks of hard work. Burdened by the things she was carrying, she opened the office door by pushing it with her back and going in backwards.
‘Some stupid idiot’s put their car in the only dry space,’ she complained to the office at large. ‘My feet are absolutely soaked.’
She dropped her files and bag on a chair and then a deep voice behind her made her whirl round.
‘Ah—I’m sorry about that. It’s my car taking the space. I’m afraid I didn’t realise it was the only dry spot.’
A tall man with tousled dark hair who had been lounging against the side of the desk unravelled himself and stood up. His gaze swept slowly over Kerry’s drenched figure and the dripping tendrils of hair plastered against her face, down to the soggy remnants of her shoes. Beside him, a small boy of about four years old, with a snub nose and round wire-rimmed glasses, sat on the desk, drumming his heels against the drawers.
‘You’re certainly very wet,’ he murmured.
Tell me something I don’t know, thought Kerry caustically, but she managed to disguise her irritation.
‘You must be Denovan, Frank’s brother,’ she observed. ‘I didn’t think you’d be as early as this.’ She looked at the small boy, now making little indentations with a pencil on the top of the desk. ‘And this is?’
‘This is Archie, my son,’ explained Denovan. ‘I had to bring him up with me as his nursery school closes in the afternoon and his childminder isn’t well.’ He smiled down at the child, and suddenly his stern face was softer, gentler. ‘I couldn’t leave you behind, could I, sweetheart?’
There was no mistaking the resemblance between the two—Archie was a miniature version of the man. She’d never heard Frank mention that Denovan had a child, or indeed of him having a partner. What an odd family they were. Kerry wondered where Archie’s mother was—perhaps she had a high-powered job that meant she wasn’t around in the evening?
Denovan O’Mara was taller and broader than she’d thought he’d be—in fact, the television screen didn’t do him justice. He was one hot guy, over six feet of impressive bodywork and a strong no-nonsense face—firm lips, incredibly blue bright eyes. He was impeccably dressed in a dark blue suit with a crisply knotted tie. No wonder he’d fitted so easily into celebrity status. Central casting couldn’t have done better!
She caught an alarming glimpse of her own appearance in the mirror over the basin—hair hanging like rats’ tails over her face, slightly blurred eye make-up … for some reason it irked her that she looked such a wreck in front of Denovan O’Mara and his smooth appearance.
She opened a drawer in the desk and took out a small towel, drying her face and hands vigorously. ‘You must have set off quite early from London,’ she said.
‘I came straight from work this morning—I told you I’d come as soon as I could,’ he said. ‘I’ve only a very limited amount of time here, but I thought I’d pop into your surgery first to tell you I’d arrived.’ He shook her hand in a firm grip, his vivid blue eyes holding hers.
‘You’ll be pleased to hear that they’ve stabilised Frank—although he’s still in ICU,’ Kerry informed him, then added with slight emphasis to ensure that Denovan realised just how ill Frank was, ‘I think it was pretty touch-and-go last night.’
He nodded. ‘Sounds as if he was lucky to get out alive. But he’s a strong man—he’ll pull through, no doubt,’ he said in an offhand way. His glance swept over her keenly, noting the dark shadows under her eyes, the strain showing on her face. ‘This can’t be easy for you,’ he observed. ‘I suppose you’re trying to organise a locum and a hundred other things as well? You look a little bushed.’
For a ‘little bushed’ read a ‘complete wreck’, she thought wryly, blinking in some surprise at his understanding of the situation. She nodded briefly—there was something about his sympathetic tone that undermined her previous impression of a self-centred man. No wonder he held thousands of women viewers under his spell—not only looks, but reasonably charming when he wanted to be, as well. In fact, she could see that some women would find his type of looks quite sexy! But again, Frank knew his brother better than she did and she could quite believe his remarks that Denovan had an inflated idea of his own importance.
The small boy put his face close to his father’s. ‘I’m hungry,’ he pronounced. ‘I need a biscuit!’
‘You wait until we get to the pub where we’re going to stay then you can have lots to eat,’ his father promised.
Archie pulled his father’s ear. ‘I can’t wait.’ He raised his voice. ‘I’m very hungry!’
‘I don’t know if Daphne’s rung up the Pear Tree yet—your room probably won’t be ready,’ said Kerry.
‘I’ve had bad news on that front.’ Daphne came into the room, catching the end of the sentence. ‘The drains can’t cope with the extra water at the bottom of the hill and the pub’s completely flooded—they’ve had to close it and there’s nowhere else to stay for miles.’
‘Oh, no!’ Kerry looked in dismay first at Daphne and then at Denovan and Archie. ‘If the pub’s flooded, what about all the other buildings down there?’ And even more urgently, she thought worriedly, where was this man and his little boy going to stay?
‘I’m really hungry, Daddy,’ growled Archie, looking angrily at his father. ‘Please can I have a biscuit, quickly? You promised before!’
Kerry couldn’t help smiling at the little boy. She could imagine where he got his impatience from! ‘Daphne, you’ve met Frank’s brother already, I think?’
Daphne dimpled at Denovan, clearly smitten. ‘Only a few minutes ago. Look, why don’t I give Archie something nice to eat from the kitchen?’ She held out her hand to Archie. ‘You come with me, pet.’
Archie slid down from the desk and ran across the room to Daphne.
Denovan smiled wryly. ‘Looks like he’s got a friend there. It’s a nuisance about the hotel. I guess I’ll have to drive back to London after I’ve seen Frank this evening.’
Kerry had a spare room in her little cottage. It was filled with junk, but it did have a bed in it, and it would only be for one night after all. It was a nuisance, but for Archie’s sake she would have to offer the arrogant Denovan and his son a room for the night.
‘You’re very welcome to stay with me,’ she said, without much enthusiasm. ‘I’ve a sleeping bag that Archie could have, and …’ she looked doubtfully at Denovan’s large frame ‘… a single bed in my spare room—it might not be very comfortable.’
There was a surprising sweetness in the smile that lifted his stern face. It made him seem younger, more approachable.
‘That’s very kind. I don’t really feel like making the journey back tonight.’ His periwinkle eyes smiled engagingly at her. They were quite startling, those eyes of his. ‘I’m sorry to impose on you. I feel I’ve put you out enough, but I promise we’ll be very quiet guests.’
‘No, that’s fine, it’s no trouble.’
‘Well, we’ll be out of your hair tomorrow anyway, but I’m very grateful to have somewhere to sleep tonight!’
‘That’s OK,’ she said brusquely. She delved in her bag and brought out her house keys, tossing them to him. ‘You might as well go there now and get settled. There’s food in the fridge for you and Archie. The house is at the top of the hill beyond the surgery—you can’t miss it, it’s the only one with a blue door.’
Denovan jingled the keys in his hand before he turned to go, with a slightly apologetic expression on his face. ‘Actually, I have another very big favour to ask you. I’ll go and see Frank this evening—but an ICU isn’t the place for a little boy, and I was planning to ask one of the hotel staff to watch him for me, but that plan will obviously need to change. So, if you’re not doing anything tonight, could I possibly leave Archie with you for an hour?’
Not doing anything tonight? Kerry almost laughed. She only had about a hundred things on her to-do list from the fallout of Frank’s accident, like sorting out the paperwork she should have done last night, trying yet again to get some cover for her colleague, catching up on the seriously ill patients on his list. It seemed an endless catalogue of things. But Denovan had to see his brother and Archie had to be looked after.
She hid her sigh behind a smile. ‘No problem—I’ll be back after surgery at about six-thirty.’
‘I’m very grateful. I just want to satisfy myself they’re doing the best they can for him. Then I really have to get back to London early tomorrow. Archie needs to get back to his nursery school.’
‘Of course.’
‘I don’t know when I can get back here again, it rather depends on my other commitments. As I said before, Frank’s accident couldn’t have come at a worse time.’
Kerry thought of poor Frank lying so very injured in the local hospital, and raised her eyebrows. Denovan watched her expression.
‘You look very disapproving,’ he remarked, a sudden coolness in his tone. ‘I do have an incredibly busy life, and it’s been a nightmare trying to rearrange things today, but I managed it.’
Bully for you, thought Kerry scornfully, but she said lightly, ‘I guess I’m just a little surprised that you couldn’t have found time to come at the weekend perhaps. I’d have thought …’
The blue eyes turned flinty. ‘You’d have thought what exactly?’ he enquired frostily. ‘With the deepest respect, you have no right to presume anything about my arrangements.’
Talk about pompous! Kerry’s cheeks burned angrily. ‘I don’t presume anything—and it hasn’t been easy for me either, as a matter of fact, but if he was my brother—’
‘But he’s not!’ cut in Denovan harshly.
Kerry stared at him incredulously, astounded by his rudeness. Extraordinary how touchy and defensive he was about visiting his brother, it was as if she’d lit a blue touch paper! She felt she’d glimpsed the real Denovan O’Mara again, arrogant and self-centred, and all of a sudden the atmosphere in the room had dropped several degrees.
Denovan stared at the floor for a second, taking a deep breath as if trying to keep his anger under control, then he shook his head apologetically and looked slightly shamefaced.
‘Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fly off the handle. It was completely uncalled for, especially when you’ve been so kind.’
Hah! thought Kerry cynically. Now she was seeing his charming TV persona once more.
‘I guess it’s been a hell of a long day,’ Denovan continued. ‘I just wish Frank could learn not to take liberties with his blasted car.’
Amen to that, agreed Kerry. Frank wasn’t aware of the upset he’d caused her over the past twenty-four hours!
‘Perhaps he’s learned his lesson,’ observed Kerry tersely. ‘However, I’m sure when he sees you, it will do him a lot of good.’
Denovan shrugged. ‘Actually, it could have quite the opposite effect. The last time I saw or spoke to Frank was over six years ago, and that wasn’t exactly a happy occasion.’ He said it lightly, but that only seemed to emphasise the gravity of their differences.
He turned and left the room, striding quickly down the corridor and attempting to gather his thoughts. God, he was a fool. Why had he flown off the handle when Kerry had queried his commitment to his brother? All she had done was express sympathy and offer hospitality to himself and Archie—and he’d repaid her by being incredibly rude.
The truth was, he admitted to himself, he had a terrible fear that coming back and seeing Frank would raise all kinds of ghosts that he’d tried to bury over the years—and perhaps there was some guilt that he had never attempted to build bridges with his brother.
Of course, Kerry knew nothing of the terrible legacy of betrayal and disgust he felt for Frank, and the bitterness that had grown up between the two men. He clenched his fists angrily. Hell, he didn’t owe his brother any sympathy at all after what he’d done to ruin the family. He took a deep breath and went to collect his little boy from the kitchen.
Kerry sat down and stared after him in astonishment. What earth-shattering event could have caused a six-year rift between the two brothers? And whatever it was, did it justify Denovan’s rudeness?
CHAPTER TWO
ARCHIE settled happily in front of the television while his father went to see Frank in the local hospital, which was about five miles away across the valley in the larger town of Laystone. Denovan said he would probably stay an hour and find out what the prognosis on Frank was.
Kerry put on the kettle and started to make a quick supper for herself and Archie. She flicked a look at the little boy, endearingly quaint with his round glasses perched on the end of his snub nose, his jaws moving rhythmically as he devoured a little bowl of raisins. He seemed an adaptable child—obviously well used to adjusting to new people and situations.
‘Would you like some pasta?’ she enquired.
He didn’t take his eyes from the screen. ‘No, I don’t like pasta, thank you.’
‘What about some baked beans, then?’ Kerry rooted around in a cupboard looking for suitable food.
‘No, I don’t like baked beans, thank you.’
‘Then what do you like?’
Archie dragged himself away from watching the flickering screen. ‘I like chips and burgers and ice cream and crisps and chocolate,’ he said firmly.
Kerry’s lips twitched in amusement—evidently his parents didn’t bother about healthy diets!
‘Is that what you’re allowed at home?’
Archie fixed Kerry with his bright blue eyes and nodded vigorously. ‘Yes. Daddy says I can have what I want.’
‘Right, well, I’ll see what I can find,’ she promised, wondering where Mummy fitted into the picture.
A few minutes later Kerry collapsed on the sofa next to Archie and tucked into her pasta, giving the little boy some ice cream she’d found at the bottom of the freezer, and both of them sat in silence, one absorbed in the television, Kerry starting to look through her mail and flicking through the newspaper she hadn’t had time to read that day.
The room was warm and she fought against drifting off to sleep—it had been a hectic twenty-four hours, and she was feeling the effects of cramming a lot of things into a short time with little sleep. Archie leant cosily against her like a little hot-water bottle and she looked down at the top of his head. He was such a lovable little boy, even if his father was the arrogant Dr Denovan O’Mara!
She sighed softly. A year ago her future had seemed to be mapped out—a wedding, a loving husband, hopefully followed by children like Archie. Then all that had been taken away from her brutally and swiftly, and the children and family life she longed for were nothing but a faded dream.
She was vaguely aware of the sound of the front door opening just as she closed her eyes in a troubled doze. Denovan walked into the room then stopped suddenly when he saw his son and Kerry relaxed together on the sofa. Archie had his head against her shoulder, and Kerry had one arm round him, her freshly washed dark cloud of hair tumbling over the cushion she was leaning against, mouth slightly open as she dozed. He smiled wistfully at the picture they presented—it twisted his heart to see Archie nestled up against Kerry, for it seemed to highlight the lack of a motherly figure in his precious son’s life.
He sighed and pushed that thought to the back of his mind then leant forward and touched Kerry lightly on her shoulder. ‘Sorry to disturb you when you both seem so comfortable,’ he said.
Startled, Kerry sat bolt upright on the sofa and stared at him in surprise. ‘You’ve hardly been gone any time!’ she exclaimed.
‘I haven’t been able to get to the hospital,’ Denovan explained drily. ‘The wind’s brought down several big trees by the riverbank and the bridge has collapsed—there’s no way over the river now, so getting anywhere out of the village at the moment is impossible. It won’t take much for the river to burst its banks completely.’
‘What?’ Kerry gently put Archie to one side and stood up, staring in disbelief at Denovan. ‘The village is cut off altogether? So what’s happening down by the river now?’
He shook his head. ‘People are working like mad, putting sandbags or anything else round their properties to keep the water out. But the most immediate problem is that a woman’s trapped under part of the bridge wall that’s collapsed.’ His face was grave. ‘I’m sorry to say I’ll have to drag you away. We’re both needed urgently, and this woman needs medical help. There’s no way an ambulance can get through at the moment. There are people trying to free her, but she’s bound to have injuries—we should be there.’
The day she’d thought could get no worse had reached rock bottom, thought Kerry wryly. A disaster in the village and no backup from essential services. Kerry hauled on her cagoule and pushed her feet into some wellingtons—she flicked a look at Denovan’s stalwart figure and suddenly she was extremely grateful to have him with her to help, pompous and arrogant man though he was.
‘We’d better take my car,’ she said. ‘It’s a small estate so we could get her up to the surgery in that if necessary. We keep some equipment there for the Mountain Rescue Team—a stretcher, a collapsible splint, blankets and a neck collar, that sort of thing. We can call in and get them.’
‘A good idea,’ said Denovan. ‘It’s very cold out there.’
Kerry noticed the little boy looking solemnly at them both. ‘We’ll drop Archie off at Daphne’s—she’s only a door or two away and I know she won’t mind.’ She bent down and smiled at him. ‘You know that nice lady who gave you biscuits and hot milk this afternoon? We’re taking you to stay with her for an hour or two while your daddy and I go and help a poorly lady.’
Archie’s mischievous blue eyes gleamed. ‘Will she give me some more biscuits?’
‘I dare say she will.’ Kerry smiled. ‘Come on, let’s go!’
A small crowd had gathered round the bridge where the river started to run through the village. Car headlights were trained on the dramatic scene where the woman lay trapped, with her legs pinioned underneath the collapsed stones. The lashing rain glinted on a million drops in the beams of the light, and the river looked very full; it was obvious that the bridge had been swept away.
Kerry’s eyes widened in horror as the enormity of the situation hit her. ‘Oh, my God,’ she breathed, scrambling out of the car. ‘How on earth will we get her out without equipment?’
Denovan opened the car tailgate and lifted out the blankets. ‘We’ll do it somehow,’ he said confidently. ‘You’d be surprised what a few strong men can do.’ He gave her a quick grin of encouragement. ‘You keep the lady calm and assess her condition and I’ll help these men to lift that rubble.’
Kerry turned to a woman on the edge of the little crowd. ‘Have you any idea who’s under all that rubble?’ she asked.
‘She’s Sirie Patel. She runs the Post Office and shop on the corner, poor woman. She never stops working—if it wasn’t for her, we wouldn’t have a village shop.’
Kerry pushed her way through to the stricken woman, forcing herself into professional mode and forgetting her own shock that it was her friend Sirie who was hurt. She didn’t deserve this, giving so much of her life to the community, allowing those who were hard up to pay her ‘next time’, lending a ready ear to listen to the woes of any of her customers. It wasn’t fair.
In her next life, thought Kerry grimly as she packed the blankets as best she could around Sirie in the howling wind and stinging rain, she would come back as something less stressful than a GP trying to calm a terrified woman trapped under a bridge wall with water gushing over her. Perhaps she’d have a career as a lion tamer or a high-flying trapeze artist!
She pushed a folded blanket gently behind Sirie’s head, all the time talking to her, reassuring her that she was being looked after. Kerry knew the psychological importance of making sure the victim was aware that she wasn’t alone but in safe and capable hands.
‘It’s all right, Sirie, love, we’re here to help you now,’ shouted Kerry above the noise of the rushing river. ‘Try and stay calm. Here, hold my hand and grip it tightly. If you keep as still as possible, there’s going to be no danger.’
Oh, how she hoped that was true! The river was so very close and fast, the roar of it filling their ears. She had a horrible vision that if Sirie were to slip into it when they released her, she could be swept down into the torrent. It was a steep hill, and even though it was raining and dark, the ribbon of lights along the road at the bottom of the valley could be seen clearly, twinkling many feet below.
Kerry looked across at Denovan lying on his stomach close to Sirie as he tried to see where her legs were trapped, and if the two large slabs of stone were actually compressing the limbs. She admitted to herself that she hadn’t expected a man like Denovan to hurl himself into the situation as he had—to be so hands-on. He’d surprised her, but after the way he’d lost his cool with her earlier, she wasn’t about to become his biggest fan. However, she admitted grudgingly, she was very grateful that he was there, and revealing himself to be so competent.
He scrambled up and crouched near to Kerry, his eyes looking searchingly at the victim’s face. ‘How is Sirie?’ he asked. ‘Bearing up?’
‘Very shocked. She’s in considerable pain, and her pulse is quite thready—of course I don’t know what her sats are or her BP. I’ve morphine in my bag so perhaps you’d dig it out. Any sign of outside help yet?’
‘I’ve rung for an air ambulance, seeing nothing else can get through here at the moment,’ said Denovan, rummaging through Kerry’s bag to find the morphine. ‘The reception was incredibly bad, but I think they’ve got the gist of it. It sounded like a ten-minute ETA.’
Sirie’s grip on Kerry’s hand was fierce. ‘Will they be long getting me out?’ she whispered, screwing her eyes up. ‘I don’t know how long I can stand this …’
‘It’s all right, Sirie, you’re going to feel more comfortable very soon. Dr O’Mara’s just going to inject you with something that’ll make you feel much easier.’ Sirie’s eyes fluttered open. ‘What about my girls?’ she whispered. ‘I’ve got to pick them up from their Brownie meeting.’
‘Don’t worry. We’ll make sure that they’re looked after. One of the mothers will take them to her house,’ Kerry assured her. Thank heavens for a small, close-knit community, she thought. They did look out for each other here.
Denovan tested the syringe he was holding, then smiled down at Sirie. ‘Hang in there. Ten mils of this magic stuff will help you to relax. In fact, you’ll feel on top of the world, as if you’ve had two double whiskies …’
Sirie’s face flickered into a frail, brave smile. ‘I’m teetotal, Doctor,’ she whispered. ‘I never touch the stuff!’
‘Well, now you’re about to find out what you’re missing,’ he joked. He turned to Kerry, his voice low enough so that Sirie couldn’t hear him but audible to Kerry above the noise of the voices of the men and the howling wind. ‘We’re nearly there now. Keep your fingers crossed.’
Kerry bit her lip, watching the last stones being inched away from Sirie’s legs, praying that the muscles in the legs wouldn’t be badly crushed. Whatever damage Sirie had suffered, it was imperative that she was hospitalised as soon as possible.
She watched the men grunting and groaning as they tried to lever the stones up without slipping in the thick mud around the site. Denovan and two other men had placed the stretcher on the ground as near to the bridge as possible and were waiting to pull the victim out as soon as they dared. It was a tense few minutes and Kerry kept up a low flow of conversation with Sirie, distracting her from the shouting and noise of falling rubble that was going on around her.
At last, with infinite care, Sirie was lifted away from the broken bridge and placed as gently as possibly on the stretcher. Kerry and Denovan bent over her to examine the damage that had been done to her legs. One lay awkwardly, bent at a strange angle with multiple contusions and a large gash down the shin bone.
‘We might have guessed Sirie wouldn’t get away without any injury,’ said Denovan, straightening up. ‘That left leg’s almost certainly broken, from the way it’s positioned. It’s taken the brunt of the fallen wall, but I don’t see a protruding bone, so hopefully it’s not a compound fracture.’
Kerry squeezed Sirie’s hand comfortingly, and Sirie’s large, scared eyes looked from one doctor to the other. ‘Am I going to have to have an operation?’ she asked in a quavery voice.
‘Until you’ve had X-rays we won’t know for sure. First thing we need to get you to hospital.’ Denovan squatted down next to the frightened woman and smiled kindly at her. ‘You’ve been absolutely great—really brave. Just hang on a little longer.’
Kerry was amazed at how sensitive Denovan could be, what a contrast to the impatient doctor of an hour or two ago. He seemed to have another, softer side to him that he’d hidden well when she’d first met him—perhaps he was just very good at acting!
He was looking at the raging river a few feet away from them. ‘Perhaps we’ll move Sirie nearer the car first and then strap her leg.’
Kerry followed his glance and swallowed hard. Was it her imagination, or did the water seem higher than it had been? It looked as if the river would burst its banks any second and completely cover the road.
‘OK, Doc, but let’s do it before the whole damn things goes,’ urged one of the men. ‘Hopefully the helicopter will be here soon. It’ll land on the field at the top of the village.’ They slid the stretcher into the back of the estate car, although it wouldn’t go in completely, and Kerry bound the affected leg above the site of the fracture to the splint—just securing it enough to stop it from being bounced around. Four men, including Denovan, supported the stretcher as Kerry drove very slowly back through the village to The Larches. As she left the scene, she heard a sudden commotion behind her—a roar of water, the cracking of trees.
‘What’s happening back there?’ she shouted, keeping her eyes glued ahead of her.
‘The river’s burst its banks—we got Sirie out just in time,’ yelled one of the men.
Oh, the relief when the little entourage eventually reached the medical centre—three stalwart figures in familiar orange and green emergency suits were racing down the road to meet them.
‘We’ve managed to land in the field at the top of the road,’ panted one of the paramedics. ‘You did well to get this lady out when you did. I believe the river’s completely out of control now. We’ll just do an assessment of the victim before we move her any farther—get a take on her oxygen levels, BP, etc.’
Kerry leant against the car and watched Sirie being monitored by the medics. If the men in the village hadn’t managed to free her so quickly, there might have been a tragic end to the story, she thought with a shudder. She glanced across at Denovan, who was talking to one of the paramedics and watching as they assessed Sirie’s condition.
‘Can you get word through to the other emergency services that the village needs help?’ he asked one of the paramedics. ‘My mobile’s not getting through to anyone at the moment and someone’s just told me some power lines are down.’
Sirie was eventually taken away, wrapped in a foil heat blanket to keep her body temperature up, and soon the clatter of the helicopter’s rotor blades were heard as it rose in the air and headed off across the valley. Kerry brushed a weary hand of relief over her eyes—what a way to finish the last twenty-four hours! Adrenaline had been pumping through her for the last hour, but suddenly the drama was over and she felt drained of all her energy.
‘Tired?’ asked Denovan, his eyes looking critically at her exhausted-looking face.
‘A little,’ she admitted, then added with sudden can-dour, ‘Actually, I feel I could go to sleep on a clothesline for three days after all that’s happened. I’m going to leave the car here, I think, as I thought I heard something important give a horrible crack as we set off with Sirie, but I’ll look at it in the morning.’
‘You need a hot drink,’ he ordered, mock-severely. ‘And perhaps something a little stronger, if you’ve got anything in. Come on, I’ll walk you to your house before I pick up Archie.’
‘You’ve no need to,’ protested Kerry firmly. ‘It’s late. You go and get Archie now.’ She wasn’t about to get too chummy with an unpredictable man like Denovan just because he’d helped out so much that evening. She was still smarting at the conversation she’d had with him earlier.
‘Your house is on the way to Daphne’s so I might as well see you back first,’ he said easily.
They went up the hill together silently, heads down against the wind. In the dark it was hard to see the path, and although Kerry moved cautiously, the pothole she stepped into took her by surprise. Suddenly she sensed the ground coming towards her face and flailed her arms to keep her balance and stop her smashing against the asphalt of the path.
In an instant Denovan’s arms were round her waist, pulling her towards him. ‘Steady does it,’ he murmured.
She gasped in surprise, momentarily winded, and for a second she clung on to him, dazed at the speed of it all, braced against his rocklike frame. Feeling the rough texture of his chin stubble rasping against the softness of her face, and the cold damp clothes he was wearing pressed against hers somehow seemed embarrassingly intimate with someone she didn’t know—but nevertheless she leaned into him, prolonging the contact, relaxing as she savoured that sensation of protection, the physical strength of him. And unexpectedly for an extraordinary moment she felt the unmistakeable flicker of physical attraction for Denovan O’Mara, a man she’d instinctively disliked since she’d spoken to him on the phone that morning.
A poignant memory of being in another man’s arms floated into her mind, and in her imagination she was close to Andy again, so close that she could feel the thump of his heart against hers, enclosed in the warmth and safety of the man she’d loved so much only twelve months ago. But how long ago that seemed now, another life away …
Then the wind blew cold against her face and she was back in the present, and to her embarrassment tears welled up in her eyes. Her grief for Andy was still very near the surface, and she felt a funny little shiver of guilt, as if she’d betrayed his memory. She stepped back from Denovan hastily, almost shoving him away from her, and gave a nervous laugh.
‘I’m so clumsy …’
‘It’s pitch dark—no wonder you lost your footing. Are you OK?’ he asked, his hand taking her arm in an iron grip again. ‘We don’t want another casualty, do we?’
He looked down into her eyes, his own glinting with amusement, rivulets of water running down his face, his teeth white in the shadows, the lean planes of his muddied scratched face showing up every so often in the headlights of the cars coming up the hill and away from the flooding.
There was no doubt about it—he was a very attractive man. Kerry’s heart did a stealthy double beat and the treacherous flicker of attraction flashed through her again, and to her shame in her imagination she pictured herself kissing this man, feeling his firm mouth on hers, his cheek against hers. Then she looked away, sick at heart. How could she fancy another man so quickly? It was Andy she wanted, missed so desperately, and no one could fill the gap he’d left. What on earth was she thinking of—allowing herself to imagine anything intimate with a man she didn’t even like?
‘I’m absolutely fine,’ she said distantly. ‘Just lost my footing for a second.’
‘Lucky I’m here, then, isn’t it?’ he murmured, his hand still holding her arm as they went into the warm little cottage.
He flicked on the light switch. ‘A miracle,’ he remarked. ‘The power’s still on.’ He looked at Kerry’s white face and said sternly, ‘You need some sleep. Get up to your bedroom, and I’ll bring you a hot drink when you’re actually in bed.’
Denovan looked pretty tired, as well. His face was covered with mud, as was his hitherto immaculately tailored suit—the trousers were ripped and the sleeves of the jacket almost torn away from their seams. But it was his hands that Kerry noticed with horror—torn, bleeding, the nails jagged—they had been badly damaged in the race to free Sirie.
‘Oh, Denovan, your poor hands!’ She forgot that she disliked the man and without thinking took his hands in hers and looked down at them in distress. ‘You’ve got to get these cleaned as they’re very badly cut. There’s disinfectant in the bathroom cupboards.’
He pulled them gently away from her. ‘Don’t worry, Doctor, they’ll be OK. It’s just a few surface abrasions.’
Kerry bit her lip. Why had she done something so personal as holding his hand? It implied a degree of intimacy with him that she certainly didn’t feel.
He said briskly, ‘Now, I’m going to make you some hot cocoa with a nip of whisky in it. It’ll do you a world of good.’
Kerry didn’t argue, too tired to dwell on her embarrassment at holding his hands, but stumbled into her room, not even bothering to pull off her clothes. She collapsed onto the heavenly soft bed in her filthy clothes, and as soon as her head hit the pillow her eyes closed, and she never heard Denovan come upstairs with a mug of cocoa.
Denovan put the mug on the side table and smiled down at her wryly. No wonder the woman was exhausted—she’d had a lot to cope with since the night before. For a few seconds he looked at her recumbent slim figure, her tangled dark hair spread across the pillow, long eyelashes sweeping over her high cheekbones. Those delicate looks belied the toughness she’d shown tonight in the raging storm, he reflected.
He grinned, forgetting for a moment how tired he was. It was hard to believe that a few minutes ago he’d held this beautiful woman in his arms, felt her soft body pressed to his—and very nice it had been, too! And hadn’t it reminded him very forcibly that despite the so-called glamorous social whirl he was supposed to enjoy, he’d led a pretty monastic life over the past few years despite his years in the limelight and being featured with nearly every glamorous young woman in London? Since Archie’s mother had left he was wary of being linked to any one woman. And anyway, he had to be very choosy—whoever he took up with had to be very, very special, someone who would cherish his little boy as much as he did. And, he thought sadly, show more affection for Archie than his own mother ever had.
He supposed that someone like Kerry would have a boyfriend. Obviously she wasn’t married, but she was an attractive and successful woman. Fleetingly he wondered how she could work with a bastard like his brother—but he guessed that Kerry was pretty feisty and she wouldn’t suffer fools gladly. Or perhaps it was more likely, Denovan thought cynically, that his brother had hidden his true character from her. After all, that was Frank’s stock in trade—pretending to be something he wasn’t.
Gently he placed the duvet over her and turned to go out of the room, nearly falling over a large suitcase with a folded dress draped on top of it by the door. He bent down to look at the labels and raised his eyebrows. It looked like Kerry was, or had been, going on holiday—Frank’s stupid accident had obviously meant that she’d had to forfeit that. No wonder she’d been a bit tetchy with him. Her plans had been ruined and instead of a fairy-tale holiday she was back at work for a long stint if Frank’s injuries were as serious as they thought they were.
He went down to the little kitchen and stretched before flopping down in a chair, his elbows on the table, and closed his eyes for a second. Although he felt exhausted, he had decisions to make before he returned to London. His contract with the television company was ending, but the company wanted him to front another programme about the general health of the population, and he was wondering whether he really wanted to take on more work. Wondering, in fact, if he actually wanted to do any more television work at all.
On the face of it, his life had all seemed so glamorous and exciting, working in a place with a buzz to it, mingling with the good and the great, knowing that he had a certain cachet amongst his colleagues. But the truth was he was bored with answering people’s queries and giving his opinion on hypothetical questions—and the boredom was beginning to show. He was easily irritated, becoming autocratic if someone didn’t agree with him, used to having his own way.
Tonight had made him realise that he was becoming further and further removed from the practical care of the patients he’d loved treating. He’d just been thrown into a situation a few hours ago where he’d used the skills he’d been taught at medical school and as a result he felt alive, stimulated, his body humming with the unaccustomed rush of adrenaline. It had been so rewarding to help in Sirie’s rescue, working in a team and establishing a relationship with the victim, persuading her to put her trust in himself and Kerry. It had been worthwhile—and how long had it been since he’d felt like that at the end of a day’s work? A few years ago he’d have given anything to achieve what he had done in the media world, but suddenly it was beginning to seem a very hollow world.
He rose restlessly from his chair, went to the back door and opened it. The wind had died down and it had stopped raining, and there was a sweet country-fresh smell from the fields. He took a deep gulp of the crisp air into his lungs; he’d forgotten how much he’d loved Braxton Falls, the little valleys and the rolling hills. It had been the best part of his childhood, growing up in the countryside. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it since he’d left six years ago after falling out so spectacularly with Frank. His father had wanted them both to take over the practice when he retired—but Denovan had known that working with his half-brother was an impossibility. After what had happened, they could never live near each other again, and so he’d ended up in London and his life had taken a very different direction from anything he’d imagined.
He closed the door and turned back abruptly into the room. He would have to go and collect Archie from Daphne’s house, and then tomorrow start thinking seriously about his future, because it wasn’t just his future that was affected but his dear little son’s—and he was the most important thing of all.
CHAPTER THREE
SHE couldn’t understand where the voices were coming from … Kerry stirred restlessly as she slowly awoke and a child’s high little voice floated upstairs, singing ‘Humpty Dumpty’, penetrating her sleepy brain. And then there was a burst of giggling, a clattering of kitchen noises, and someone running a tap.
She squinted across at her bedside clock, then as it came into focus gave a yelp of horror—it was nine o’clock and she should have been at work an hour ago! She saw the still-full mug of cold cocoa on the table and everything came flooding back—Frank’s accident, the drama last night, and the bursting of the riverbank. So many things had happened yesterday. She’d almost forgotten that Denovan and his son were staying with her.
Denovan O’Mara. She rolled on her back and closed her eyes and like the rerun of a film a picture floated into her mind of her falling forward and being swept up in his arms. She could still feel the shiver of attraction that had flickered through her body and how it had shaken her. Oh, sure, he was the kind of drop-dead gorgeous male that most girls would die for—but not her. She had fallen in love with Andy, sweet, gentle, self-effacing and kind. She’d never been attracted to Denovan’s assured, smooth type—especially when it was mixed with arrogance!
OK, she’d been grateful for his undoubted skill last night, and he’d certainly thrown himself into the rescue. He’d actually been rather heroic, she admitted, battling against the weather as he’d helped to dismantle the fallen wall, directing the team of men, putting himself at risk when he’d helped to lift Sirie over the mud near the raging river. And perhaps it was her admiration for his contribution last night that had made her act in such an odd way—yes, that had to be it. And anyway, and most importantly, Denovan O’Mara was obviously a family man with a child—however attractive, he was off-limits!
She swung her legs over the bed and started to peel off her filthy clothes from the night before. She drew back the curtains and looked down the street, amazed that, instead of rain, sunlight bathed the village in a golden light and the hills beyond had a backdrop of blue skies. It was hard to believe that there’d been a raging storm that night. Still, the road was covered with thick mud and she could see knots of people making their way up the hill from the flooded road below. Abandoned cars were strewn haphazardly on pavements and across the road. She was profoundly glad that Denovan and his son were only staying for the one night and would be going today—she had enough problems to worry about without catering for two guests.
A quick shower and a change of clothes and Kerry made her way downstairs, a delicious smell of fresh coffee permeating the little cottage. It reminded her that it had been a long, long time since she’d had anything to eat or drink and a cup of hot coffee would revive her more than anything else. Straight afterwards she’d ring the surgery and tell them she’d be along directly. She imagined the bulging roomful of patients waiting to see her, and sighed. How the hell would she ever get through them all?
In the kitchen Denovan was on his mobile phone, his back to her, and Archie was sitting at the kitchen table, consuming a pile of toast. He gazed at Kerry and smiled.
‘Here’s that lady again,’ he informed his father. ‘She’s got out of bed now.’
Kerry pulled the coffee pot towards her and poured out a large mug of coffee. ‘Hello, Archie, did you have a good sleep?’
The little boy nodded solemnly. ‘But Daddy didn’t. He kept falling out of that bed. It’s too small for him.’
Denovan snapped his mobile shut and turned round with a grin. ‘Hey, I was very grateful for that bed, young man.’ He looked at Kerry. ‘You went out like a light—I’m not surprised.’
The ruined suit had gone and now he was wearing jeans and an old fisherman’s jersey, and although his hair had been washed, as it had dried it had sprung up in a tousled way over his forehead—he looked very casual and it suited him. Kerry pinched a piece of toast from Archie’s plate.
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