Although his recovery from his injuries had been frustratingly slow, Beth had been at his side every step of the way. Callum knew that he wouldn’t have coped nearly as well if she hadn’t been there to love and encourage him. Now he was ready to live his life to the full, a life that he would share with Beth and their daughter. They were the two people he loved most in the entire world and he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have them.
Beatrix suddenly spotted him, her face breaking into a huge smile as she pulled free and ran to him. Callum swung her up into his arms and kissed her then turned to smile at Beth. ‘So you didn’t change your mind,’ he said softly, loving her with his eyes as he would love her with his body later.
‘No. I won’t ever change my mind, Callum. You’re stuck with me for ever.’
‘Good.’ He dropped a kiss on her mouth, uncaring that everyone was watching them. They had come so close to losing one another and the thought was unbearable. They belonged together—him, Beth and their precious daughter.
Turning, he looked at the people who had come to help them celebrate this special day. They had welcomed him into their lives, made him feel part of their community, and he would always be grateful to them because it was the most wonderful feeling to know that he had found his rightful place in the world at last.
Polly was there, cradling little Angelica, with Elliot and Joseph sitting either side of her. Eleanor was keeping tight hold of Mia to stop her running to Daniel, who was Callum’s best man. Diane and Phil Applethwaite had brought baby William to the church and were sitting next to old Arnold Brimsdale and his wife.
Nick Benson, now fully recovered from his injuries and back teaching, was in the next pew, along with Michael and Penny Halthorpe. Michael had handed over the family’s building firm to his son and retired. Callum guessed that Michael’s recent health scare allied to the death of his old friend, Ken, had made him reassess his priorities, especially when the post-mortem had shown that Ken had suffered a massive heart attack while he was driving the truck that day.
Owen Walsh was there as well, sitting next to his wife, Abby. Callum had no idea if Owen had ever asked Beth out on that date because it no longer mattered. However, he was pleased that Owen and Abby were trying to make their marriage work. Having just gone through the process himself, he only hoped they would achieve the same result.
He smiled as he turned back to Beth, took hold of her hand and lifted it to his lips.
‘What are we waiting for? Let’s do this!’
* * * * *
If you missed the previous two stories in THE LARCHES PRACTICE trilogy, look out for
THE BOSS WHO STOLE HER HEART
BRIDE FOR THE SINGLE DAD
And if you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Jennifer Taylor
REAWAKENED BY THE SURGEON’S TOUCH
THE GREEK DOCTOR’S SECRET SON
MIRACLE UNDER THE MISTLETOE
BEST FRIEND TO PERFECT BRIDE
All available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from HEALED BY THE MIDWIFE’S KISS by Fiona McArthur.
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Healed by the Midwife’s Kiss
by Fiona McArthur
PROLOGUE
AT SIX A.M. on a Thursday, Lighthouse Bay’s maternity ward held its breath. Midwife Catrina Thomas leaned forward and rubbed the newborn firmly with a warmed towel. The limp infant flexed and wriggled his purple limbs and finally took a gasping indignant lungful.
The baby curled his hands into fists as his now tense body suffused with pink. ‘Yours now, Craig. Take him.’ She gestured to the nervous dad beside her and mimed what to do as she encouraged Craig’s big callused hands to gently lift the precious bundle. One huge splashing silver tear dropped to the sheet from his stubbled cheek as he placed his new son on his wife’s warm bare stomach.
Craig released a strangled sob and his wife, leaning back on the bed in relief, half laughed in triumph, then closed her hands over her child and her husband’s hands and pulled both upwards to lie between her breasts.
For Catrina, it was this moment. This snapshot in time she identified as her driver, the reason she felt she could be a midwife for ever—this and every other birth moment that had come before. It gave her piercing joy when she’d thought she’d lost all gladness, and it gave her bittersweet regret for the dreams she’d lost. But mostly, definitely, it gave her joy.
An hour later Catrina hugged her boss awkwardly, because Ellie’s big pregnant belly bulged in the way as they came together, but no less enthusiastically because she would miss seeing her friend in the morning before she finished her shift. ‘I can’t believe it’s your last day.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Or my last night shift tomorrow.’
‘Neither can I.’ Ellie’s brilliant smile lit the room even more than the sunlight streaming in through the maternity ward windows.
Trina marvelled at the pure happiness that radiated from a woman who had blossomed, and not just in belly size but in every way in just one year of marriage. Another reason Trina needed to change her life and move on. She wanted what Ellie had.
A family and a life outside work. She would have the latter next week when she took on Ellie’s job as Midwifery Unit Manager for Ellie’s year of maternity leave.
She’d have daylight hours to see the world and evenings to think about going out for dinner with the not infrequent men who had asked her. The excuse of night shift would be taken out of her grasp. Which was a good thing. She’d hidden for two years and the time to be brave had arrived.
She stepped back from Ellie, picked up her bag and blew her a kiss. ‘Happy last day. I’ll see you at your lunch tomorrow.’ Then she lifted her chin and stepped out of the door into the cool morning.
The tangy morning breeze promised a shower later, and pattering rain on the roof on a cool day made diving into bed in the daylight hours oh, so much more attractive than the usual sunny weather of Lighthouse Bay. Summer turning to autumn was her favourite time of year. Trina turned her face into the salty spray from the sea as she walked down towards the beach.
She slept better if she walked before going up the hill to her croft cottage, even if just a quick dash along the breakwall path that ran at right angles to the beach.
Especially after a birth. Her teeth clenched as she sucked in the salty air and tried not to dwell on the resting mother lying snug and content in the ward with her brand-new pink-faced baby.
Trina looked ahead to the curved crescent of the beach as she swung down the path from the hospital. The sapphire blue of the ocean stretching out to th
e horizon where the water met the sky, her favourite contemplation, and, closer, the rolling waves crashing and turning into fur-like foam edges that raced across the footprint-free sand to sink in and disappear.
Every day the small creek flowing into the ocean changed, the sandbars shifting and melding with the tides. The granite boulders like big seals set into the creek bed, lying lazily and oblivious to the shifting sand around them. Like life, Trina thought whimsically. You could fight against life until you realised that the past was gone and you needed to wait to see what the next tide brought. If only you could let go.
Ahead she saw that solitary dad. The one with his little girl in the backpack, striding along the beach with those long powerful strides as he covered the distance from headland to headland. Just like he had every morning she’d walked for the last four weeks. A tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired man with a swift stride.
Sometimes the two were draped in raincoats, sometimes his daughter wore a cheery little hat with pom-poms. Sometimes, like today, they both wore beanies and a scarf.
Trina shivered. She could have done with a scarf. When she was tired it was easy to feel the cold. It would be good to move to day shifts after almost two bleak years on nights, but falling into bed exhausted in the daytime had been preferable to the dread of lying lonely and alone in the small dark hours.
She focused on the couple coming towards her. The little girl must have been around twelve months old, and seemed to be always gurgling with laughter, her crinkled eyes, waving fists and gap-toothed smile a delight to start the day with. The father, on the other hand, smiled with his mouth only when he barely lifted his hand but his storm-blue eyes glittered distant and broken beneath the dark brows. Trina didn’t need to soak in anyone else’s grief.
They all guessed about his story because, for once, nobody had gleaned any information and shared it with the inhabitants of Lighthouse Bay.
They drew closer and passed. ‘Morning.’ Trina inclined her head and waved at the little girl who, delightfully, waved back with a toothy chuckle.
‘Morning,’ the father said and lifted the corner of his lips before he passed.
And that was that for another day. Trina guessed she knew exactly how he felt. But she was changing.
Copyright © 2018 by Fiona McArthur
ISBN-13: 9781488079665
Reunited by Their Baby
First North American Publication 2018
Copyright © 2018 by Jennifer Taylor
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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Reunited by Their Baby Page 15
