by Sarah Morgan
‘You have no idea,’ Daniel muttered, standing up. ‘Alfie? Can we try again? And this time I’ll get it right.’
‘It’s OK.’ Alfie sniffed. ‘No one’s perfect.’
‘Promise me that from now on if you leave the house, you tell me where you’re going.’ Daniel’s voice was rough and he curved his hands over the child’s shoulders in a protective gesture. ‘Promise?’
‘I promise. As long as you promise to look where you’re putting your feet.’
‘It’s a deal.’ Daniel looked at Stella and gave a faint smile. ‘I’ll pay you a million pounds to come and cook some lunch for the kids. Something edible that isn’t burned or stuck to the pan.’
She tried not to laugh. ‘A million pounds? It’s lower than my usual rate—but I expect we can come to some agreement. I was about to suggest that I come and help. I’m pretty bored on my own in the stable. It would be fun to make Christmas stuff. We can decorate the house, make some Christmas cards—’
‘Food? Your job is to do some food.’ Alfie tugged himself away from Daniel’s grip and Stella nearly slipped on the icy surface of the yard.
‘Definitely food.’ She regained her balance. ‘You can help me.’
‘Daniel said I’m not to go in the kitchen any more.’ Alfie held up his bandaged finger. ‘I touched a pan. My fault.’
‘No, my fault,’ Daniel said gruffly, ‘and it isn’t going to happen again.’
‘I’m a kid,’ Alfie said patiently. ‘I have accidents. You need to chill.’
‘I’ve never felt less chilled in my life.’ Daniel ran his hand over the back of his neck and gave Stella a faint smile. ‘If you could take over the kitchen bit, that would probably be safer.’
‘Where’s Posy?’
‘Asleep, I hope.’ Then he caught her glance and anxiety flared in his dark eyes. ‘Don’t look at me like that! She’s in her room with a stairgate across the door so that she can’t escape when my back is turned. Are you telling me she’s probably fetched a ladder and is climbing out of the window right now?’
‘I’m sure she hasn’t.’ Stella locked the door of the stable and walked back across the yard with them, noticing that he kept Alfie’s hand in his. It didn’t matter that he’d made mistakes. What mattered was that he was trying. That he cared.
And that was a good thing, she reminded herself.
It was just that it made everything harder for her.
Making the most of Patrick’s well-equipped kitchen, Stella occupied Alfie with some cooking. While he was covering himself in flour, she swiftly cleared up the mess, scrubbed the remains of burnt pancakes from the bottom of the pan, and loaded the dishwasher. When every surface was gleaming, she made gingerbread men with Alfie.
He pressed the cutter through the biscuit dough. ‘Can we dip them in chocolate when they’re cooked?’
‘Good idea.’ While he was decorating gingerbread men, Stella made a casserole for their supper and then went and examined the stain on the sofa.
‘That’s a loose cover. It should wash. If I do it on low, hopefully it won’t shrink.’
‘I’d forgotten how good you are at all this house stuff,’ Daniel said gruffly, nursing his coffee in one hand while he fished through a box for glitter and glue. ‘You love it, don’t you?’
Stella programmed the washing machine, wondering how she was supposed to answer that. ‘Well, I can’t say I’m in love with the washing machine but, yes, I love the whole house-and-home thing. You know I do.’ It was a reminder of why they were no longer together and Daniel was silent for a moment. She knew he was thinking of their relationship and when she glanced towards him, his eyes were fixed on her face.
For a moment they stared at each other and then Stella turned her attention back to the kitchen, determined not to read anything into the moment. She wasn’t going to go there. She wasn’t going to hurt herself by thinking of things she couldn’t have. Neither was she going to delude herself by pretending there might be a happy ever after. She’d done that for long enough.
There would never be happy ever after with Daniel.
She was going to follow her mother’s example and move on with her life.
‘Can we make paper chains?’ Alfie bit the head off a gingerbread man that Stella had laid out to cool. ‘These are delicious.’
‘Don’t eat too many, you’ll be sick,’ Stella said absently. ‘Talking of which, what’s the matter with Posy?’
‘I don’t know.’ Daniel frowned as he pulled out a pad of coloured paper. ‘I think she’s starting a cold. It’s winter. I’ll go and check on her in a minute. How long does she normally sleep, Alfie?’
‘A whole film.’
‘How long is a whole film?’ Daniel looked at Stella. ‘An hour and a half? She’s had about that.’
‘I’ll go and look. You make the paper chains with Alfie.’
She took the stairs to Posy’s pretty pink bedroom, opened the stairgate and stared down at the sleeping toddler. Her cheeks were flushed and her breathing was noisy. Frowning, Stella rested her hand against the child’s forehead. ‘You’re burning up,’ she murmured softly, removing the covers and smoothing Posy’s damp curls away from her face.
She felt a flash of exasperation with life. Why did Posy have to become ill when her dad was away? Daniel was already struggling.
Careful not to wake the sleeping child, she sat down on the pretty little window seat and stared out at the snow-covered trees and the white carpet that now covered the lawn. The children’s swing was covered in several inches of snow and Alfie’s tractor had been abandoned under one of the apple trees.
Family life, Stella thought with a pang, wondering if she’d ever have that. It was the simple things that were so precious. The simple things that so many people took for granted. When she’d been growing up, she’d always taken for granted that she’d marry and have children. That she’d give her own children the life she’d enjoyed as a child. It was what she’d wanted. It hadn’t occurred to her that she’d fall in love with a man who wouldn’t want all that.
But life didn’t always hand out what you wanted, did it? And she wasn’t the sort of woman who would have children without a man she loved.
Old-fashioned, she thought to herself, picking up a couple of stuffed toys that were lying abandoned on the floor. She was old-fashioned. She wanted a man who loved her and she wanted to have his children.
But not any man.
She wanted Daniel. And she wanted Daniel’s children.
Cross with herself, Stella put the toys into the basket along with others. It was time to be realistic. She needed to be proactive. She needed to get out there and date other men and stop comparing them to Daniel.
‘How is she?’ He stood in the doorway, a frown in his eyes as he looked at the little girl. ‘Her breathing is noisy.’
‘She has a temperature. When she wakes up, we’ll give her something.’
Daniel rubbed his fingers over his temple. ‘If she’s ill, she’s going to want her dad.’
‘She’ll be fine with you.’
‘No, she won’t.’ His jaw was tight. ‘I have no idea how to comfort a sick child.’
‘Daniel, you do it every day of your working life.’
‘No. I sort out the medical problems. I don’t know anything about the other stuff. You obviously haven’t seen how many mistakes I’ve made today.’
Stella looked at his taut, handsome face. ‘What I’ve seen is a man doing his best in difficult circumstances.’
‘My paper chain just came unglued.’
‘But you made it,’ Stella said softly. ‘That’s what’s important. And if Posy is ill, you’re the man to care for her. I’ve seen you in the department with kids. You’re good. Very reassuring.’
He ran his hand over the back of his neck. ‘That’s because I know what I’m doing,’ he gritted, ‘not because I’m any good with kids. What if Patrick comes back and both of them are traumatised?’
�
�Is that what happened to you?’ She asked the question without thinking and immediately regretted it because his shoulders tensed and his ice-blue eyes were shuttered.
‘When Posy wakes up, call me,’ he said tersely. ‘I don’t know anything about cooking pancakes or preparing for Christmas but you’re right—I do know how to examine a sick child.’
Without giving her time to reply, he turned and walked away, leaving her question hanging in the air between them.
Posy grew worse as the day progressed. She was fractious, her nose was streaming and she developed a dry, barking cough.
‘Croup,’ Daniel muttered as he held her on his lap along with the velvet comforter. ‘Poor mite.’
Wondering how he could possibly think he was no good at comforting kids, Stella carried on helping Alfie make Christmas cards.
They were lying on the rug in the living room, everything they needed spread out in front of them.
‘Just one more,’ Alfie said, carefully writing a name on an envelope, ‘for my teacher. Do you think she’d prefer the reindeer or the snowman?’
‘Reindeer.’ Stella passed him the glitter. ‘Not too much—Oops…’ She watched as a shower of silver covered the livingroom floor.
‘We could leave it there,’ Alfie suggested. ‘It sparkles.’
‘I’ll clean it up later. Don’t worry. Those paper chains look nice.’
‘Daniel put some in my bedroom. And we put some in Dad’s room, ready for when he comes back.’
Posy started to cough again, and this time the cough was much worse.
With a frown, Daniel lifted her little pink T-shirt and looked at her chest. ‘I need my stethoscope.’
Alfie sprang to his feet, sending glitter flying everywhere. ‘I’ll fetch it—tell me where it is.’
‘In the spare room. In the black bag by the bed.’
Alfie flew out of the room and Daniel watched him go. ‘He’s a good kid.’
‘He’s fantastic.’ Stella was looking at Posy. ‘You’re worried about her, aren’t you?’
‘As a doctor? No, not yet. But I’m watching her. As a man with responsibility for his brother’s kids—yes, I’m terrified.’ He gave a hollow laugh. ‘It’s hard to be detached when you know what’s at stake. And it’s pretty daunting, having that much responsibility. I’m counting the hours until he’s back. As long as they’re both still alive, I’ll consider that I’ve done well.’
‘If I had a sick child, there’s no one I’d rather trust him with. Patrick felt the same way, or he wouldn’t have left
them with you.’
His eyes met hers. ‘Maybe that was a mistake.’
‘It wasn’t a mistake.’ Stella looked at Posy, curled up against his chest. ‘She doesn’t exactly look traumatised. She couldn’t be in better hands.’ Thinking how much she’d like to swap places with Posy, Stella started to clear up glitter.
‘I noticed that you managed to remove the stain from the sofa cushion. And the marks from the walls.’ Daniel gave a tired laugh. ‘You’re a genius.’
Alfie hurried back with Daniel’s stethoscope. ‘Can you teach me how to do it?’
‘Yes, but let me listen first.’ Daniel slipped the stethoscope into his ears, murmured something reassuring to Posy and then listened to her chest. ‘She has good air entry but she had some stridor earlier when she was upset. I think some moist air would help. I’ll take her into the shower room in my bedroom. It’s a fairly small room. If I turn the shower to hot, it should create some steam fairly quickly.’ He caught Stella’s questioning glance and gave a wry smile of understanding. ‘Yes, as a doctor I know that the data shows no clinical benefit for steam. As a worried uncle, I need to do something. And at least standing in a steamy bathroom is doing something. If that doesn’t work, I’ll take her out into the cold air.’
‘You’re going to put her in the snow? Won’t that give her frostbite?’ Alfie contemplated that possibility with a mixture of fascination and excitement. ‘I learned about frostbite in school. Your toes can go black and then they drop off.’
‘Why are little boys so gruesome?’ Daniel stood up, still holding Posy. ‘Cold air can help reduce the inflammation in her airways. I can promise you I’m not going to put her in the snow and I can also promise you that no bits of her are going to drop off.’ Rolling his eyes towards Stella, he carried Posy out of the room.
Stella tidied up the remains of the glitter and stacked Alfie’s cards into a neat pile. Once or twice she glanced towards the door but there was no sign of Daniel. ‘You can write your cards now,’ she said absently, ‘and then there’s a Christmas film on TV. Why don’t you curl up and watch it? I’ll go and check on Posy.’
She was concerned that Daniel hadn’t brought the child back downstairs. Hoping that the little girl wasn’t worse, she walked up the stairs and along the wide, airy landing. The door to one of the spare rooms was ajar, and she heard the sound of the shower running as she walked inside.
The door to the bathroom was closed, but that didn’t surprise her because she knew Daniel would be trying to create as much steam in the atmosphere as possible.
Wanting to help, Stella opened the door and slid inside, closing the door quickly behind her so that she didn’t let the steam out.
Then she gave a gasp of shock.
Daniel was naked except for a pair of black boxer shorts, his soaked clothes in a heap on the floor. ‘Don’t even ask,’ he warned darkly, and Stella gave a weak smile, wishing she’d knocked before she’d walked into the bathroom.
He was a study in masculinity, his shoulders wide and powerful, his stomach flat and muscular.
Telling herself that it was the steam that was turning her cheeks pink, Stella stooped and retrieved his damp clothes. Her legs were wobbly and she was suddenly horribly aware of every female part of her body. ‘I’ll sort these out for you.’ Flustered and cross with herself, she started to retreat, but Daniel reached out and caught her arm.
‘Wait—’
She stopped because she had no choice, but she didn’t look at him. She couldn’t look at him.
His fingers tightened on her arm. ‘It hasn’t gone away, has it?’
She didn’t pretend to misunderstand him. ‘No.’ The only noise in the room was the hiss of the shower. ‘It hasn’t gone away.’
His fingers tightened on her arm. ‘We’re a very bad match.’
‘Terrible.’ Her throat felt dry. ‘The worst.’
‘So if we’re such a bad match, why does this feel so difficult?’
‘I suppose because it is difficult,’ she mumbled. ‘No one ever said that the right decision is always the easy one.’
Whether it was the intimacy of the enclosed space, his halfundressed state or the topic of conversation, Stella didn’t know, but something had shifted between them. They were balancing on the narrow ledge of reason and common sense, with instinct and temptation reaching out to grab them.
And then Posy started coughing again and Daniel released Stella’s arm so that he could rub the child’s back. His hand was gentle and his voice soothing as he murmured soft words of reassurance. Posy’s eyes closed again but her breathing was still noisy.
Stella stood in silence, aware of how close they’d come to doing something that they’d undoubtedly both regret.
It wasn’t possible to be in the same room as him and not want him, she thought desperately, wishing she’d never volunteered to help.
‘She’s hot.’ Making no reference to what had passed between them, Daniel put his hand on the child’s forehead. ‘The problem with being in this hot, steamy room is that I’m raising her temperature. She’s probably had enough of this. I’ll dress her in a T-shirt and nappy and have her on my lap downstairs. Remind me to be more sympathetic next time a mother brings a child with croup into the ED.’
It was as if the moment of intimacy had never happened and Stella knew she should be grateful for that. The last thing either of them needed was a rerun of their old
relationship.
It was a good job they had the children to focus on, Stella thought weakly, leaving the bathroom and closing her eyes for a moment in an attempt to erase the disturbing image of Daniel almost naked. Her body still hummed with awareness and she forced herself to think back to Christmas two years previously, when he’d broken off their engagement. Forced herself to remember the misery.
Did she really want to put herself through that again?
No, she didn’t.
It was hard, yes. Mostly because Daniel Buchannan was more of a man than any man she’d ever met. Not because he was insanely handsome, but because his qualities ran so much deeper than the glossy dark hair and sexy blue eyes.
Gritting her teeth, Stella walked back into the living room and sat down next to Alfie who was glued to one of the Home Alone films.
‘Daniel scratched The Grinch so I can’t watch that.’
‘The rental shop have a machine that can fix that.’ Stella sat down on the sofa next to him. ‘I’ll take it over there tomorrow.’
She was here to help Daniel with the children, she reminded herself. And that was what she was going to do.
Daniel lay sprawled in the chair, watching Posy as she slept in her bed.
In the room along the landing Stella was reading a bedtime story to Alfie. Her voice altered as she spoke the lines of each character and Daniel smiled. That was typical of her, turning a bedtime story into a whole dramatic experience. He could imagine Alfie, too excited by what was coming to let her stop.
It was another half an hour before she appeared in the doorway. ‘Alfie’s light is out. He should be all right now. Two of the kittens are asleep in his bedroom but I’ve decided to overlook that. Are you going to go downstairs?’
Daniel looked at Posy. Her little hand was clutching a teddy bear and her eyes were closed. She looked utterly defenceless. ‘I’ll stay here. In case she needs anything.’
Stella frowned. ‘Daniel, you can’t spend the night in the chair. You’re too tall. You won’t sleep and then you’ll be exhausted tomorrow.’
‘I’m not leaving her. She could get worse in the night.’ And Patrick had entrusted them to his care.
