by Kate Hardy
‘He showed us your video. You, jumping out of a plane,’ her mum said. ‘And he told us where we could find you today. We watched you help that woman. And we’re—’ her voice cracked ‘—we’re so proud of you. Can you ever forgive us?’
Gemma had no words. She just opened her arms.
And, for the first time in too many years, her parents wrapped her in a hug. A real, proper hug. The hug she’d been so desperate to have.
‘We love you so much, Gemma,’ her dad said.
‘It probably doesn’t feel like it,’ her mum said. ‘But we do. And we’re so sorry we let you down.’
‘It’s hard for us, going back to Ashermouth. But if that’s where you want to be, then we’ll come there to see you,’ her dad said. ‘Your young man’s right—it’s time we remembered we had another daughter. We want you in our lives. Properly. The way it should’ve been all along. It’s been so...’ His mouth moved but no words came out.
She wasn’t going to push them into talking more. Not right now. ‘I know,’ she said softly. ‘I want that, too. And I know it’s not going to be magically fixed overnight. We’ve got a lot of talking to do. But, now we’ve started, it’ll get easier. And if we work at it, we’ll make it. Together.’
‘We do love you, Gem,’ her mum said.
Words she’d wanted to hear for far too long. And both her parents had said it now. ‘I love you, too,’ she said shakily.
‘You’d better go and see your young man,’ her dad said. ‘But we’ll call you tomorrow.’
‘And we’re so proud of you.’ Gemma’s mum hugged her again.
‘I’ll talk to you tomorrow,’ Gemma said. Tears blurred her vision as she made her way to the marshals’ tent. Oliver had seen the chasm between her and her parents, and he’d laid a huge foundation plank across it.
Your young man.
Did she dare to hope that what he’d done—taught her parents to see her for who she was—meant he really cared about her? Was this his way of saying that maybe they had a future together? Or was this a goodbye present, a way of telling her that he couldn’t be there for her but he hoped her parents would be?
Heather had advised her to talk to him. Tell him how she really felt.
And there was only one way to find out the answers to her questions...
* * *
Ollie sorted out the race admin for Gemma, then went back to the marshals’ tent to help Rob. Various cyclists had come to the medics for help as they’d finished, with sprains, strains and saddle sores.
To his relief, his twin didn’t ask him any awkward questions, just let him help treat their patients.
Finally Rob nudged him. ‘I’ll finish up here. You have a visitor.’
Ollie looked up; when he saw Gemma standing by the table, his heart skipped a beat.
‘Hi,’ she said.
He couldn’t tell if everything was all right or not, but he wanted to let her set the pace. ‘Hi.’
‘Is Heather all right?’ she asked Rob.
‘The ambulance took her to hospital. Paul’s looking after her bike and he’s going to take it back to his place for now, then drop it over to hers,’ Rob said. ‘Obviously I didn’t have your number, but I’ve taken theirs and texted them to Olls so you can get in touch with them.’
‘Thank you,’ she said. She looked at Ollie. ‘Can we go somewhere quiet and talk?’
‘Sure.’ Ollie nodded to his twin, then followed Gemma out of the tent. They headed towards the sea, and found a quiet spot away from the crowds.
‘That was a really kind thing you did, helping Heather over the finish line like that.’
‘It wasn’t just me. Paul helped, too. She had a broken clavicle. No way could she have wheeled that bike herself without jolting her arm.’ Gemma shrugged.
‘You could’ve waited with her until the marshals came.’
‘No, I couldn’t. It was important to Heather to finish the race and they would’ve stopped her. She was doing it in memory of her husband, who died from leukaemia, and we were so close to the end. It’s just what anyone else would’ve done in an event like this when they saw someone was struggling.’
Ollie wasn’t quite so sure, but Gemma clearly didn’t believe she was special. ‘I sorted out the race admin stuff for you,’ he said.
‘Thank you.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I didn’t expect to see you today. When I saw Rob and realised you’d sent him in your place, I assumed...’ Her voice tailed off.
‘The worst? That I’d abandoned you?’ The way her parents had when she was seventeen, and the way they’d stonewalled her over the last few years?
‘Yes,’ she admitted.
‘I saw how upset you were yesterday and I wanted to do something about it. I know I was interfering. But I didn’t want to let you down with this, either—which is why I talked Rob into taking my place,’ Ollie explained.
‘How did you even find my parents?’
‘I asked—Never mind,’ he said, not wanting to make things awkward between Gemma and her best friend. ‘And I was warned not to interfere.’
‘But you went to see them anyway.’ Her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying.
He’d been so hopeful when her parents had called him and asked to stand with him at the end—so sure that he’d helped them start to reconnect with Gemma. Maybe he’d got it wrong. Maybe this had been the last straw, and instead they’d told Gemma never to see them again. Guilt flooded through him. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve made things worse.’
‘No, you made them...’ She swallowed hard. ‘Today was the first time in more than a decade that my parents told me they loved me.’
Ollie didn’t know what to say. It was a good thing; yet, at the same time, his heart broke a little for her. She’d tried so hard for all those years, had refused to give up: yet all that time she’d been hurting. Lonely. Wanting to be loved.
‘They told me they were proud of me.’
‘Good. And so they should be,’ he said. ‘You’re an amazing woman.’
‘But not,’ she said, ‘amazing enough for you.’
‘Oh, you are,’ he said.
‘Then I don’t get why you backed away from me. I don’t understand you, Oliver. Not at all.’
Because he’d panicked. ‘I just wanted to help.’
‘You did. You’ve built a massive bridge between me and my parents—it’s early days and there’s still a lot to work through, but we’re finally starting to see things the same way.’ She looked at him. ‘What I don’t understand is why you did that. You and I...we agreed just to be colleagues.’
‘Yes.’ He knew he should tell her that wasn’t what he wanted—but what if she rejected him?
When he didn’t explain further, Gemma said, ‘Heather told me she thought her husband was her complete opposite and it’d never work out between them. She held out for a long time before she agreed to date him—and then he was diagnosed with leukaemia. He died last year. And she said she’ll always regret she wasn’t brave enough to let them have more time together.’
His heart skipped a beat. Was Gemma saying that was how she saw their situation, too? Was this her way of telling him she wanted to try to make a go of things?
‘She said it’s important to be honest, to tell someone how you feel about them and not waste time.’ Gemma took a deep breath. ‘It scares me to death, saying this—but at the same time I know I’ll always regret it if I don’t. So I’m going to say it. I know you want to go back to London, and I’m not going to trap you or ask you to stay; but I also don’t want you to go without knowing the truth. That I love you.’
She loved him.
The words echoed through his head.
She loved him.
But then his insecurities snapped back in. ‘How can I be enough for you?’
* * *
&nbs
p; It was the last thing Gemma had expected him to say.
But then she remembered what he’d told her. How his ex had called off the wedding. ‘Is this about Tabby? Are you still in love with her?’
‘It’s sort of about her,’ Oliver said. ‘But, no, I’m not still in love with her. One of my old colleagues told me that Tabby had got engaged again. And it made me think. I wasn’t enough to make her love me, so why should I think I’d be enough for someone else?’
‘Oliver Langley, do you really have no idea how amazing you are?’ she asked. ‘Look at the way you work with us in the practice. You fitted right in. You’re part of the team. You’ve helped me make some innovations that will make our older patients’ lives better. And you’ve just managed to do something that my best friend’s family has tried and failed for do for over a decade—you talked to my parents, you got them to listen to you, and you changed their view of me. You’ve done what I thought was impossible: you’ve actually got us talking and starting to heal that rift.
‘And, apart from all that, I love you. You make me feel like a teenager again—not full of angst and worry, but seeing all the possibilities in life.’ She bit her lip. ‘I thought you might have feelings for me, too. Until you backed away.’
‘I do have feelings for you. I love you,’ he said, ‘and I know it’s the real thing, because I feel different when I’m with you. The world feels a better place, full of sunshine and hope.’ He paused. ‘But how do I know I’m not fooling myself? How do I know I’ll be enough for you?’
‘Do you trust me?’ she asked.
He was silent for so long that she thought he was going to tell her he didn’t. But then he nodded. ‘I trust you.’
‘Then believe me. I think you’re enough for me. You’re the first man I’ve let close in years and years. You’re everything I want in a partner. You’re kind, you’re funny, you notice the little details, and you make my heart feel as if it’s doing cartwheels when you smile at me.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I know you’re meant to be leaving in a few days, but—’
‘Actually,’ he cut in, ‘I don’t have to leave. Caroline says that Aadya wants to come back part-time, and the practice has expanded enough that she could do with another full-time doctor. She’s given me first choice of the post.’
‘So you could stay here?’
‘Yes.’
‘And is that what you want?’
‘I want,’ he said, ‘to be with you. I’ve learned that I like being part of a small community—this community. I like living in a village where I know everyone and everyone knows me. Where people support each other. I want to live and work in a community where people really connect with each other.’ He looked at her. ‘But most of all I want to live with you. I want to make a family with you—whether we have children of our own, whether we support a teen in trouble, or whether it’s a mixture of the two.’
So he’d remembered what she’d said to him about paying it forward.
‘I saw you with your goddaughter,’ he said, ‘cuddling her and reading a story. When we read that story to her together. And it made me realise that was what I wanted. You, and our family.’ His blue eyes were full of warmth and love. ‘This probably isn’t the right time to say this, when you’ve just done a sixty-mile bike ride.’
‘Strictly speaking, that’s fifty-nine miles cycling and about a mile’s walk,’ she pointed out.
‘A mile’s walk pushing two bikes and supporting someone with a broken collarbone,’ he said. ‘Which is a lot more effort than cycling. Gemma, when I came to Ashermouth Bay, I was miserable and lonely and in a lot of denial. And then I met you. And I found out how the world really ought to be—full of love and sunshine. You make the day sparkle. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.’ He dropped to one knee. ‘I probably ought to wait and do this somewhere really romantic. But I can virtually hear my twin yelling in my ear, “Be more Rob!”—and your friend Heather was right. It’s important to be honest, to tell someone how you feel about them and not waste time. So I’m going to take the risk and tell you. I’ve learned that it’s not the showy stuff that matters: it’s what’s in your heart. And I love you, Gemma Baxter. I really, really love you. Will you marry me and make a family with me?’
Marry him.
Make a family with him.
He was offering her everything she wanted. More than that: he’d actually got her parents to make the first move, to start to heal the rift between them.
She leaned down and kissed him. ‘Yes.’
* * *
Look out for the next story in the Twin Doc’s Perfect Match duet
Baby Miracle for the ER Doc
If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Kate Hardy
Forever Family for the Midwife
Fling with Her Hot-Shot Consultant
Heart Surgeon, Prince...Husband!
All available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Baby Miracle for the ER Doc by Kate Hardy.
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Baby Miracle for the ER Doc
by Kate Hardy
CHAPTER ONE
ROBERT LANGLEY WALKED through the doors of Asherwick General Hospital.
How good it felt to be back on the side of the hospital where he belonged. To be the fixer again, not the fixee.
Not in a helicopter, being evacuated after a burst appendix. Not developing severe blood poisoning that went on to wipe out his kidneys. Not lying in a hospital bed, on dialysis. Not on the operating table, while his twin Oliver was in the operating theatre next door—a living donor, having a kidney cut out for Rob. Not stuck at home after the transplant, with his mother wrapping him in so much cotton wool that he was beginning to resemble a snowman.
The last six months had been tough. Rob had had to come to terms with the fact he’d never again be able to work for the humanitarian aid organisation where he’d volunteered; with only one working kidney, and a transplanted one at that, he was too much of a potential liability. The mountain rescue team where he volunteered had offered him a support role when he was well enough to come back, but they’d made it clear that he couldn’t do the rescue work he’d been used to doing for them. Desk job only.
It had been months since he’d climbed anywhere. Months since he’d done anything riskier than playing chess with his twin. Months since he’d worked—apart from the day the previous weekend when he’d taken Ollie’s place among the medics for a sixty-mile fundraising cycle race.
And right now Rob was desperate for a bit of normality. He wanted his life back. His lovely, busy life.
He’d taken the first step at the weekend. While he’d been recuperating, he’d let his hair grow out so it was more like his twin’s, with his fringe flopping over his eyes, and he’d shaved every day because it was another way of filling the endless seconds until his life went back to normal. But on Saturday morning he’d walked into the barber’s and asked them to shave it back to his normal crop, just shy of military barbering. He hadn’t shaved for a couple of days. And this morning, when he’d looked in the mirror, he’d seen himself again. Not the patient who could barely do a thing for himself that he’d been forced to be for so long.
His consultant had agreed that Rob wasn’t quite ready to go back to climbing, but could go back to work part-time, and now he had a temporary post working three days a week as a registrar in the Emergency Department at Asherwick.
It was so, so good to be back. The fact that nobody knew him here made it all the better, because nobody would fuss that he was overdoing things, or treat him as anyone other than normal.
Rob kne
w better than to overdo things. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck recuperating again. But it would feel so good to be seen as a doctor first, not as someone recovering from a kidney transplant. To help someone instead of being the one who needed help. To do the job he’d spent years training to do and knew he did well.
‘Hello! I wasn’t expecting to see you here.’
Rob stared at the woman who’d just spoken to him. He’d never seen this woman in his life before. And he would definitely have remembered her: slight, with dark hair in a pixie cut and huge brown eyes, a heart-shaped face and a generous mouth. She reminded him of a young Audrey Hepburn. All she needed was the little black dress instead of a white coat, the enormous hat and a pair of dark glasses, and she’d be a ringer for Holiday Golightly.
According to her lanyard, she was Dr Florence Jacobs; given they were both in the Emergency Department, it was a fair assumption that she was one of his new colleagues.
Before Rob could apologise for having no idea who she was, she asked, ‘How’s your patient with chickenpox pneumonia doing?’
‘Patient?’ What patient? He hadn’t treated anyone for months, let alone anyone with chickenpox. Or pneumonia.
She looked disappointed, as if he’d just outed himself as the sort of doctor who couldn’t be bothered to remember his patients. Which wasn’t who he was at all. ‘The elderly woman you brought in, a couple of weeks ago.’
‘I’m sorry. I think you must have the wrong person.’
She frowned. ‘I’m sure it was you. Just your hair was different.’
His hair was different?
Then the penny dropped.
‘Ah. You must mean Oliver. My twin,’ he explained. GPs didn’t usually bring their patients to the Emergency Department, but Oliver Langley was the kind of doctor who went above and beyond. And Oliver was the sort of person people remembered; he exuded warmth and kindness and made friends in the blink of an eye. ‘I can ask him for you, if you like.’