by Sarah Morgan
‘Do you think she will?’
‘I think she might.’ His voice was soft as he looked at the child. ‘She isn’t well, that’s for sure. I checked her breathing again just before she went to sleep and she’s doing all right, but if she gets any worse I’m going to take her in to the department and give her some humidified oxygen.’
‘You don’t think you’re overreacting?’
‘Maybe, but she’s my responsibility and I’m not taking any chances with her.’
‘Why don’t I stay?’ Flushing in response to his astonished glance, she continued. ‘I mean, Patrick has two spare rooms. I can sleep in one of them and if Posy does get worse, you can just sort her out without having to worry about Alfie.’
Daniel wondered whether he needed to remind her of the incident in the shower room earlier. It had been hard to distinguish what had generated the most steam—the hot water or the chemistry between them.
Was she really seriously considering spending the night?
‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea.’
Her eyes slid to his and he knew that her mind was in the same place as his. ‘This isn’t about us, Daniel. We have to get past this thing between us.’
‘Any suggestions how?’
She bit her lip. ‘We just ignore it. This is about the children. You might need help in the night.’
Daniel wanted to ask if she had any suggestions as to how he could ignore it. He was so aware of her—so aroused—that his body had reached screaming pitch.
But he could also see the sense of her staying. If Posy’s condition did deteriorate, it would be helpful to have her close.
‘All right. If you’re sure that’s all right with you.’
The connection between them was as powerful as ever. The only thing keeping them apart was a fundamental difference in what they wanted out of life. And the way he was feeling at the moment, that armour felt pretty insubstantial.
And then he had an uncomfortable memory of Stella’s face two years earlier—the devastation in her eyes when he’d told her that he’d made a mistake.
Even though he knew he’d done the right thing and that her pain would have been a million times more agonising if he’d continued with the relationship, Daniel was in no doubt as to how much he’d hurt her.
And he had no intention of repeating his mistake.
He had to keep reminding himself of those differences.
Stella wanted all this. She wanted marriage, kids and all the chaotic ups and downs that went with it. And she deserved it.
‘You must be starving,’ Stella murmured. ‘I’ll go and make some food while you settle her down. Switch the baby alarm on and then we’ll hear her if she starts coughing.’
Chapter Eight
STELLA arranged some cheeses on a plate, added some grapes and walnuts and a basket of bread fresh from the Aga. Then she picked up a bottle of red wine and two glasses and carried the lot into the living room.
The moment she walked in, she knew she’d made a mistake by staying.
Daniel had lit the fire. The lights twinkled on the Christmas tree and the room glowed with warmth, the atmosphere both intimate and festive.
Stella suddenly wished the barn had harsh overhead lighting, but Patrick had gone for ambience and the setting was uncomfortably romantic. She glanced towards Daniel, wondering if he was as aware of her as she was of him.
After his soaking in the shower he’d changed into black jeans and a comfortable checked shirt and he was now sprawled on the sofa, deleting emails with apparent disregard for the contents.
Stella watched him helplessly, feeling the relentless ache of desire, wondering why on earth she’d offered to stay and torture herself. Was she trying to make life as hard as possible? Was she trying to prove something? All she’d proved was that she was a hopeless case when it came to Daniel Buchannan.
Looking at him now, she wondered how she’d ever thought she’d be able to forget a man so unforgettable.
He was everything male, from the way his shirt clung to the hard contours of his muscular body to the dark shadow that emphasised his strong jaw.
‘Is she asleep?’ Trying to sound brisk and practical, Stella placed the tray down on the low coffee table. ‘Poor little thing.’
‘Yes. Patrick called while you were across at the stable.’ Daniel reached for the bottle of wine. ‘Everything is going well. I took the phone to Alfie so that he could say hello—he wasn’t asleep.’
‘Did you tell Patrick that Posy isn’t well?’
‘I told him she had a cold.’ Daniel poured wine into the two glasses and passed her one. ‘I didn’t see the point in worrying him when there’s nothing he can do. And anyway, she’ll be fine. I’ll check her again in a minute. Thanks for making the food. It looks delicious.’
‘It isn’t very exciting.’ She was too physically aware of him to risk sitting next to him, so instead she sat on the floor and put some cheese on a plate for him.
‘You don’t have to sit on a hard floor, Stella.’ His tone dry, Daniel took the plate from her. ‘There’s room on the sofa and I promise to behave myself.’
That wasn’t the problem. The problem was her thoughts.
Playing it safe, Stella stayed on the floor. ‘Did Patrick say how he was getting on? Does the job sound interesting?’
‘Chicago is freezing but the hospital is very impressive. He likes the people and it looks as though the post would allow him more time with the children.’ His tone was even but something about him made her look closer.
‘And how do you feel about that?’
‘Pleased for him.’ Daniel sliced some cheese. ‘He deserves a break. It’s hard for him here, managing job, house and kids.’
‘But you’d miss him.’
He cut a piece of cheese. Studied it. ‘I’d survive.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ Exasperated, Stella put her wine down on the table. ‘Why do you men find it so hard to express their emotions? What’s wrong with admitting that you’d miss your brother if he took this job?’
Daniel was silent for a moment. ‘I suppose I don’t want to think about it.’ He drew his hand over his face, his expression suddenly weary. ‘That’s my way of dealing with it. And it works for me.’
And suddenly she knew how upset he was about the prospect of his brother relocating.
‘Do you think it’s the right thing for him to do? It seems like a long way.’
He gave a lopsided smile. ‘Maybe I’ll follow his example. I’m sure they need emergency doctors in Chicago.’
Stella’s heart dived and she was appalled by how sick she felt at the thought of Daniel moving to America.
They weren’t together, she reminded herself furiously, so what difference did it make? In fact, it would probably be a good thing. It would force her to make the break she obviously found so hard to do herself.
On the other hand, the thought of him living so far away left a gaping hole in her insides.
‘Do you have everything ready for Alfie tomorrow?’ Swiftly, she changed the subject.
‘His school bag is by the door. He finished his maths homework. Did I miss anything?’
Stella smiled. ‘I don’t think you’ve missed anything. You’ve done a great job.’
‘If by that you mean that the house is still standing and the kids are alive, then I suppose you’re right. We’ll ignore the significant casualties along the way.’ He frowned as one of the kittens jumped onto the sofa. ‘At least I haven’t trodden on one of those yet.’
‘The kittens are so gorgeous.’ Stella scooped the animal into her hands and made a fuss of it. ‘Don’t you think they’re cute?’ She placed the kitten carefully in her lap and stroked it gently. ‘This is the feisty one. He was trying to attack the Christmas tree earlier. The other two are sleeping in Alfie’s bed.’
Daniel yawned. ‘I probably should have banned that.’
‘He’s happy and the kittens are happy.’ She fussed o
ver the kitten, wishing that Daniel had less of an impact on her. ‘It’s only another three days to go before Patrick comes back.’
‘Posy won’t be well enough to go to the crèche tomorrow.’
‘Are you going to ask Mrs Thornton to sit with her?’
‘No.’ He leaned forward and put his plate down on the table. ‘I’ve rung the hospital—pulled some strings. I’m going to take the next few days off.’
Her hand resting on the kitten’s soft fur, Stella gave a disbelieving laugh. ‘How did you manage that? It’s the middle of winter—the department is busier than ever.’
‘Ben agreed to swap with me.’
‘That was kind of him. He’s a nice guy. Ellie is a lucky girl.’ Stella felt a stab of envy, thinking of Ellie with her gorgeous husband and her two lovely children. ‘And what do you have to do in return?’
‘I’m working Christmas.’
‘You’re working Christmas Day instead of Ben?’
‘He has a family.’ Daniel leaned back against the sofa and stretched out his legs. ‘Christmas is important to him.’
Whereas, to Daniel, it didn’t seem to matter at all. Suddenly she wanted to know. She needed to know. ‘You really hate Christmas, don’t you?’
‘It isn’t my favourite time of year, that’s true.’ An ironic smile touched his mouth. ‘I’m pretty sure it isn’t yours, either, after what I did to you two years ago.’
‘I love Christmas,’ Stella said simply. ‘What happened between us didn’t change that.’
Daniel’s eyes glittered in the firelight. ‘I’m glad I didn’t ruin it for you.’
‘Until I heard you talking to Alfie, I didn’t realise that you found Christmas so hard.’ Stella broached the subject hesitantly. ‘You obviously don’t have very good memories.’ She knew she was touching a nerve and, for a moment, she thought he wasn’t going to respond.
He stared into the fire, a blank expression in his eyes. And then he stirred. ‘I don’t have a single happy memory of Christmas and I’m sure that if you asked Patrick, he’d say the same thing.’
The kitten squirmed on Stella’s lap and she stroked it, wanting to know more but cautious about saying the wrong thing. ‘Did your parents not celebrate?’
‘They didn’t see being trapped in the house together over the festive season as something to celebrate. It just made the battle all the more intense,’ Daniel drawled softly. ‘Hand-to-hand combat instead of long-range missiles. The rest of the year my father spent as much time at work as possible. It minimised the opportunities for conflict. At Christmas, there was no opportunity for escape. They were trapped together. And we were trapped with them.’ He gave a humourless laugh. ‘Patrick and I used to pretend that we were prisoners of war.’
Stella thought about her own Christmases as a child. About being wrapped in love and laughter. Decorating the tree, playing games, the carol service in the village church, cooking with her mother…
‘If they were so unhappy, why didn’t they divorce?’
‘The official line was that they stayed together for the sake of the children.’ Daniel’s voice was loaded with irony. ‘But it was more for the sake of neighbours and friends. Divorce was failure.’
‘And they didn’t do anything to make Christmas special? No tree? No decorations?’ Stella lifted the kitten against her chest, finding its warm comforting. ‘No silly games of charades?’
‘No. My father tried to lose himself in the television but that annoyed my mother so much she actually broke it one year.’ Daniel laughed, but the sound was hard and devoid of any humour. ‘I remember inviting a friend over and my mother was hysterical. Vicious. Yelling at my father. After that, I didn’t invite anyone again. It was too embarrassing. To begin with I used to try and wangle invitations to other people’s houses, but that was hard, too. Seeing happy families just makes you feel even more isolated when yours is a dysfunctional mess.’
‘Daniel, that’s so sad.’ Appalled, Stella reached out to touch his arm and he turned to her with a mocking smile.
‘Don’t touch me, babe,’ he said softly, ‘not unless you’re willing to go with the consequences. And we both know that isn’t a good idea. I can’t give you what you want.’
Stella swallowed and removed her hand. But her insides were jumping and fluttering. ‘Relationships don’t have to be like the one your parents had. Patrick still believes in love.’
‘My brother is a fool. Carly walked out on him on Christmas Eve. The only reason those children aren’t basket cases is because Patrick is a fantastic dad.’
‘Yes. And you have all the qualities he has.’
Daniel lifted an eyebrow. ‘Try telling that to Alfie. So far today I’ve burned his hand, wrecked his favourite DVD, ruined the sofa, burned his dinner and broken his favourite car.’
‘You were doing your best.’
He closed his eyes, a faint smile playing around his hard mouth. ‘Well, my best isn’t good enough and it never will be. I haven’t got what it takes to be a good father. I have no experience. I see Patrick and I think, I’m not like that.’
‘No, you’re different.’ And that was why she loved him. ‘No two fathers are the same. There isn’t only one right way to be a parent.’
‘Maybe not. But there are a million wrong ways and I know far more about those than I do the other.’ His tone unusually cold, Daniel stood up and scooped up the tray, his body language announcing that the conversation was at an end. ‘I’ll take these to the kitchen. Do you want coffee or anything?’
‘No, thanks. It will keep me awake.’ Feeling pushed out and strangely isolated, Stella transferred the sleeping kitten to the sofa and stood up, too. ‘I’ll go up and check on Posy. Then I’ll go to bed. An early night would do me good.’
‘With any luck you won’t be disturbed. Sleep well.’
They were stiff—formal—as if their conversation hadn’t been deeply personal. As if they hadn’t once been lovers.
Stella looked at his hard, handsome face and knew he was hurting. And suddenly she desperately wanted to say something that would make everything all right. She wanted to fix things. She wanted to hug him.
But life really wasn’t that simple, was it?
The past couldn’t be undone. Experiences couldn’t always be forgotten. And a hug would lead to something that would complicate an already complicated situation.
Feeling tired and low, Stella picked up the small bag she’d packed. ‘I’ll sleep in the room with the sloping roof. Call me if you need me. Goodnight, Daniel.’
Putting the bag on the bed, she nipped across the landing to check on Posy and found her sleeping peacefully, her breathing calm and even.
Relieved, Stella returned to her room. She had a long, lazy bath, changed into her nightdress and then slid under the duvet and switched on her laptop.
‘All right, Mr handsome hunk, shall we meet up before Christmas?’ Determined to push forward in her quest to meet someone else, she scrolled through the messages people had left her.
After an hour of staring at the screen and not really seeing anything that was going on, Stella gave up and closed the computer. None of them was Daniel.
And that was a good thing, wasn’t it?
She’d ended their relationship because they didn’t want the same thing. She didn’t want or need another Daniel!
Perhaps she would go to the hospital Christmas party after all. Try and meet someone the old-fashioned way.
She heard Daniel’s footsteps on the landing and froze, wondering if he’d tap on her door. Hoping? When the footsteps moved past, she found that she’d been holding her breath.
Exasperated with herself, she flicked off the light and slunk under the duvet. She was a sad, sad case. Maybe it would be a good thing if he did move to Chicago. Maybe that would force her to get on with her life instead of staying in this state of romantic limbo, comparing everyone to Daniel. ‘How is Daniel coping?’ Ellie locked the drug cupboard and slipped the key
s back into her pocket. ‘When is Patrick due back?’
‘Tonight. And Daniel was still alive last time I looked. Just.’
‘Posy’s better?’
‘Yes, fortunately. But Daniel didn’t want her to go back into the crèche.’
Ellie gave her a curious look. ‘So he’s spent three days with her? I thought he was allergic to children.’
‘It’s not as simple as that.’ Stella found it a relief to talk to someone. ‘It’s more that he thinks he’s going to mess them up.’
‘Is he good with her?’
‘Oh, yes, but he can’t see it. He’s been painting with her. The entire house is covered in artwork.’ Stella walked with her towards the reception area where the board was flashing up a waiting time of two hours. ‘And this morning he was making her a papier mâché snowman because there wasn’t enough snow outside to build a real one.’
‘Oh…’ Ellie’s eyes filled with tears and she covered her mouth with her hand. ‘That’s so gorgeous.’
‘Posy thought so. She was covered in glue and bits of newspaper and I doubt her fairy pyjamas will survive the experience, but I’ve never seen a child so happy.’
Ellie sighed. ‘There’s something about a big strong man looking after a little child that turns me to jelly. Are you the same?’
‘Everything about Daniel turns me to jelly,’ Stella said gloomily. ‘That’s the problem. It doesn’t matter that he’s totally wrong for me. I still want him. I’m thinking of seeing a counsellor. I need a twelve-step programme or whatever they’re called.’
‘You don’t think that caring for the kids might have changed his mind about having them?’
‘No.’ Stella lifted a set of notes from the pile. ‘If anything, it seems to have convinced him that he’s made the right choice.’
‘Why?’ Ellie ducked under a bunch of mistletoe and walked into the reception area. ‘It sounds as though he’s done a brilliant job.’
‘He doesn’t think so.’ With a resigned shrug, Stella waved the notes. ‘I’d better get on. That road traffic accident this morning has increased the waiting time. Everyone is slipping and sliding on those pavements doing their last-minute shopping.’