by Various
“How do you know my name?” She certainly hadn’t given it to him. Come to think of it, she’d been as impolite as her rescuer in not introducing herself.
“They told me who you were. At the hospital.”
Now Lucy was really confused. “Who told you? Why? I … don’t understand.”
“I don’t understand, either.” The older man in the chair sounded unutterably weary. “And I don’t want to. Stop your blathering and go away. All of you.”
“Now, Douglas …” Miriam marched over to the chair, reaching down to collect a tray that had a plate of uneaten food on it. “Nobody’s going anywhere. This poor lass is frozen to the bone and the phone’s out so we canna call anyone to come and fetch her car out of that ditch. You’re no’ going to turn a lassie and her wee bairn out on a night like this. Not if I have any say in the matter.”
Clearly, Miriam did have a say in this household. Both men were silent. She looked at the tray she was holding and clucked her tongue. “And what was so wrong wi’ my soup then, if I might ask, Dr. Cameron?”
Cameron?
Oh … God. It was him.
Lucy took another look at James. He was a big man. Tall and broad-shouldered. He’d be in his mid-thirties, she guessed, which was about right. His hair gleamed a deep auburn beneath the light of an antique-glass shade. His eyes had seemed black when he’d been so close to her during the rescue, but they were probably brown.
The exact shade that Jamie’s were.
“Aye … what of it?” the elder Cameron demanded of her.
Lucy blinked. Was he a mind reader? No … Her shocked repetition of the surname must have escaped her lips.
“This is Dr. Douglas Cameron.” Miriam came to her aid. “And that’s his son, Dr. James Cameron.”
“You were looking for me,” James added quietly. “At the Royal.”
She nodded. “I’m Lucy Petersen,” she informed him.
He recognized the name. Even in this poor lighting she could see that he actually went a shade paler.
“And this is Jamie,” she continued, without taking her eyes off James, despite the fact that her heart was hammering and she felt faintly ill. “I have reason to believe he is your son.”
CHAPTER SIX
“OH, MY goodness …” Miriam’s hand went to her throat and she pinned James with a wide-eyed stare. “Can this be true?”
“Of course not,” James snapped. “I’ve never met this woman before today. It’s impossible that I fathered her son.”
“He’s not my son,” Lucy said steadily. “He’s my nephew. You had a brief relationship with my younger sister, Liv. In London. Three years ago.”
“Oh … my …” Miriam moved swiftly. “Perhaps I should take wee Jamie back to the kitchen while you talk about this?”
“That might be a good idea,” Lucy agreed.
Miriam paused to send a significant glance in the direction of the winged chair, but Douglas Cameron was having none of it.
“If the lad’s supposedly my grandson, I’ve a right to hear what’s said.” He turned his gaze to his son. “What have you got to say about this, James? Did you know this Liv Petersen?”
Of course he did.
He’d been in love with her. Until she’d dumped him to move on to greener pastures. It was part of the most miserable period of his life, one that he was doing his best to move on from.
He’d been more successful than he’d realized in shutting those mental doors, but they were being thrown open now.
He could actually hear an echo of Liv’s laughter. Her cruel words.
“For heaven’s sake, Jamie. You’re such a country bumpkin, and you’re a GP. You’ll never be anything more than a GP… .”
He could see her clearly, too. Blond … slim … gorgeous.
A lot like Lucy.
No bloody wonder she’d reminded him of someone. And no wonder he’d had such a sense of foreboding. He just hadn’t let himself go there. As he hadn’t for three years now. It had been easy as soon as thinking of her had become the lesser of two evils. When his mother had died on Christmas Day.
Had Liv been pregnant when she’d broken up with him?
Had it been a private joke against that wealthy surgeon she’d married that she’d named her son after him?
“I was in a relationship with her,” he said aloud. “She ended it because she wanted to be with someone else. She told me that she was going to marry him. She didn’t say anything about being pregnant.”
“I’m not sure she knew herself,” Lucy said. “It all happened so fast. She and William were engaged within a week and married a month later. I never heard any hint that Jamie might not have been William’s son.”
James ran stiff fingers through his hair. “So what the hell are you doing here, then?”
“It wasn’t a happy marriage,” Lucy said quietly. “I knew that. I also knew that Liv had been seeing someone else. William found out about the affair and had a paternity test done. It revealed that Jamie wasn’t his. By that time, Liv and William were living apart. Jamie was being cared for by nannies mostly. Last week, Liv was at a party on a boat and fell overboard. They … didn’t find her in time.”
“Probably drunk,” came the mutter from the chair.
Lucy ignored the comment. “I live in New Zealand, so it was the middle of the night when William called to tell me. He was very angry. He said he’d put Jamie into care unless I came to fetch him within a week. He also suggested that I should contact the man who was likely to be Jamie’s biological father.”
James was still looking very pale. “No …” he finally said, his voice hoarse. “I’m not his father. I can’t be.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“WHY not?”
The question went unanswered as James swung away from Lucy Petersen to stare at … nothing.
This couldn’t be happening.
As if things weren’t difficult enough right now. His father was so deep in his depressed state that he had lost all interest in his work and his life. He had stopped seeing patients altogether months ago, and so instead of the father-and-son team searching for a third doctor the family practice desperately needed, James was trying to cover the workload single-handed.
Douglas refused to get help or start any treatment for his depression. He was, quite simply, opting out of life, and James was facing the appalling prospect of having to forcibly hospitalize his own father in the near future.
And, as if that wasn’t enough, it would be Christmas in a few days. The anniversary of when everything had fallen apart. The time when it was impossible to keep the memories at bay and not feel the full force of what had been ripped from their lives.
“Well, are you going to answer the lass?” His father’s voice was impatient.
“What?” James turned back to face this nightmare.
“Why can’t you be Jamie’s father?” Lucy’s voice was very controlled. The calm before the storm?
“Because … because it’s impossible, that’s why.” The look he received could only have come from a woman. James could feel heat creeping up his neck. Good grief! He hadn’t blushed since he was a gauche, flame-headed young teenager.
“I’m on call 24/7,” he snapped. “Running a three-person general practice on my own because my father—” James took a deep breath, struggling to contain the anger that he’d bottled up for far too long as it threatened to boil over. From the corner of his eye he could see the way his father was sinking back into his chair. Attacking him wasn’t going to help anyone. “My father’s not well, Ms. Petersen. Even if your nephew is my biological child there’s simply no way I can be any kind of a father to him.”
For a wild moment, Lucy wanted this man to let down his seemingly impenetrable barriers and express a passionate point of view. She could see his anger. She could even understand it. What she wasn’t going to do was tolerate it.
“Why? Because it would complicate your routine? You’re not the only person with a c
areer, mate. You’re not even the only one with a general practice to run, come to that. I’ve had to take a leave of absence, just when I was on the point of starting my dream job. I’m on the other side of the planet from where I work and live, but I’m doing it because Jamie is my family. My nephew. I’m only his aunt, James Cameron. You could very well be his father.”
“You’re … you’re a doctor?”
Her breath came out in an astonished huff. Did he have to look so surprised?
But he’d known Liv, she reminded herself. Her younger sister, who had barely scraped through her nursing degree. Who had persevered with her career only as a means to an end. To marry a rich doctor and extract the most fun possible out of life.
Why should she expect James to think she was any different?
Even his father had caught the wavelength.
“No point coming here if you’re after money, lass. The practice isn’t doing very well these days.”
James looked ready to explode but his tension seemed to be directed at his father.
Lucy had no idea where the tension came from and she didn’t care. She realized now that it had been a huge mistake to come here and the sooner she left, the better.
“You know what?” she asked brightly. “I could be on a beach right now. In the sun. Looking forward to Christmas with white sand between my toes in the shade of a Pohutukawa tree in full flower.”
She walked away from Douglas Cameron.
“I’m going home,” she announced.
She stormed past James Cameron.
“And I’m taking Jamie with me.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“YOU can’t let her go. Not until you’re sure you’re not his father.”
James didn’t need his father to tell him that. “I know.”
Part of him didn’t actually want her to go, he realized as he followed Lucy back to the kitchen.
How stupid was that?
This was a single man’s worst nightmare, wasn’t it—to be suddenly presented with the possibility of being a father? And it couldn’t be happening at a more horrible time. With his mother’s death, his father’s depression and the demands of his practice, James had almost more than he could cope with right now, both physically and emotionally. But he had to confess to a spark of … what was it—hope?
His life had been on a downward spiral with little in the way of discernible joy in it for longer than he cared to remember. Maybe he needed something big to shake him up, wake him up to life’s possibilities.
Something certainly felt different, anyway. Having Lucy in the house. Having the child in the house. It was a crazy thought to have late on a stormy winter’s night, but it was as if curtains had been opened and light was filtering in.
He found Lucy crouched beside a now soundly sleeping Jamie. She looked up.
“You could take us to Dumfries,” she told him. “Any hotel will do. I can arrange to have the car situation sorted tomorrow.”
“Don’t go,” James said. “Not tonight.”
“No, please stay,” Miriam chimed in. “I’m going to make up the spare room for you. It’s a lovely big bed, if you don’t mind sharing with wee Jamie.”
“I can’t stay,” Lucy said. She averted her gaze from James’s. “Not now.”
He had to think fast to keep her here. “Has Jamie got a passport?”
That caught her attention. “Not that I know of.”
“So you’re going to have a lot of bureaucracy to get through before he can leave the country.”
“The New Zealand embassy will help me.”
“This close to the Christmas and New Year break?” James shook his head at the determined look on Lucy’s face. “Okay, fine. Here’s my mobile phone. It’s probably a good time to make a call to New Zealand. See what you can find out.”
She was about to take the phone from his hand when it rang. He took it back and answered it, speaking to the caller briefly.
“Sorry,” he told Lucy. “I’ll have to take the phone with me. I’ve got a house call to a sick baby to make.”
“You do house calls? At this time of night?”
“To a three-month-old baby who probably has bronchiolitis? Of course.”
Lucy looked impressed. “Back home they’d have to call an ambulance. Or take the baby to the nearest hospital.”
“I might end up calling an ambulance myself, but she’s my patient. I want to know exactly what’s going on.”
“Good for you.” A hint of a smile touched Lucy’s lips and James found himself staring at them. Wanting to see them curve a little more.
“Will you still be here when I get back?”
That did it. The smile was resigned but there was a softening in Lucy’s face as her gaze held his.
“I’m not really in a position to call a taxi, am I? Unless the phone’s working again?”
“It’s not.” Miriam sounded pleased about that. She was still standing close to the old coal range, but she was watching both James and Lucy, curiously intent. “You’ll have to stay, pet. Away wi’ you, James. I’ll look after them.”
CHAPTER NINE
MIRIAM was looking after them very well.
Lucy ate the tastiest hot soup she’d ever been given, along with thick slices of homemade bread, toasted and buttered. Then she and Jamie were taken to a spacious upstairs bedroom that had an en suite bathroom.
“Used t’ be the senior Dr. Cameron’s room,” Miriam told her. “He’s no’ used it since his puir wife died.”
Jamie didn’t wake as Lucy laid him gently on one side of the bed. She eyed the other side with a frown.
“Maybe we shouldn’t be using it.”
Miriam touched her arm. “If you ask me, pet, you and the wee lad are the answers to everyone’s prayers in this house.”
Lucy found it hard to swallow suddenly. “What do you mean?”
The older woman was silent for a moment and then she sighed. “I’ve known the Camerons all my life,” she said. “It’s as plain as the nose on my face that James is Jamie’s daddy. I’ll show you a photo of him when he was a wee lad and you can see for yourself.”
It was Lucy’s turn to sigh. “Even so, he’s made it very clear that he doesn’t want to be a father.” She couldn’t help sounding disparaging. “He hasn’t got the time.”
Miriam clicked her tongue. “He’s no’ got the choice, has he?”
Lucy shrugged. “I can disappear. And take Jamie with me.”
Oddly, the idea was a bleak one. She couldn’t stop thinking about James and the way he hadn’t hesitated in going out into the night to care for a sick baby. Or the way he’d tucked Jamie into that car seat. The way it had felt to be carried by him.
He would make a very good father.
“You canna do that.” Miriam sounded horrified.
“Why not?”
Was it a trick of the light that made the housekeeper’s eyes shine like that? Or was it tears?
“This used t’ be such a happy house,” Miriam told her softly. “Especially at Christmastime. You should see all the boxes of decorations up there in the attic. There’s even a Santa suit that Douglas always wore for the children’s party every year. Nothing’s been the same since Shona died, and it’s no’ right.” Miriam used the corner of her apron to dab at her eyes. “No house should be this unhappy. They’re good men, lass, both of them. They’re just so … sad. But if … if you could give them a chance, it might just make all the difference. Please don’t go away, lass. Not yet. We … need you.”
Lucy looked away from Miriam. Down to where Jamie’s curls gleamed against the crisp white of the pillowcase. Here was a little boy who should be full of the joys of life and counting the sleeps until Father Christmas arrived. But she hadn’t even seen him smile. Or heard him talk.
Three generations of this family were unhappy.
Miriam thought that keeping them together could be the key, and if it was, could it help Jamie, too?
If she wen
t away, she’d never know.
And she’d never again see James, the big man who seemed to have a heart to match. A heart that needed healing?
Miriam said they needed her.
Who could resist such a plea?
Not Lucy.
Much later, as she lay under the warmth of the goose-down duvet with Jamie tucked at her side, snuffling like a puppy, Lucy heard the sound of the four-wheel-drive vehicle returning.
James was home again.
Finally, she could relax. And sleep.
CHAPTER TEN
SHE was still in the house.
When he was finally on his way home last night, he’d stopped to retrieve the suitcases from the boot of Lucy’s rental car in the ditch. It had meant even less sleep for James, but they would be glad of fresh clothes, wouldn’t they?
He’d woken early this morning, which was strange given the few short hours since his head had hit the pillow. But what was even more strange was that he felt so instantly alert.
To have a sense of anticipation that made him want to leap out of bed and start this new day. How long had it been since he’d awoken like this?
The phone was ringing as he made his way through a still-dark house to where Miriam had a pot of fragrant coffee already on the stove.
“Three calls to make,” he said as he sighed a minute later. “I’ll be late getting the clinic up and running again today.”
“Have you no’ got time for any breakfast, then?”
James shook his head. He couldn’t wait. And that meant he wouldn’t be here when Lucy got up. The unusual shine the new day had offered dimmed noticeably.
“I see the landline’s working again.” It wasn’t a happy observation.
Miriam nodded, but then she beamed at him as he turned to leave. “Dinna fesh yourself, lad. I’ll no’ let her run away.”
It was late by the time James got home again. He found his dinner keeping warm on the stove, but the only person in the kitchen was Lucy.
“Jamie’s asleep,” she told him. “And Miriam went to the library to keep your father company for a bit. She said she often does that even if he won’t talk to her much.”