The Italian Surgeon's Christmas Miracle

by Alison Roberts

  Amy had taken a huge risk. She was banking on Luke Harrington’s sense of duty being stronger than his desire to escape. She was also banking on nothing more than intuition, in the hope that she hadn’t been wrong in sensing that he not only understood but was trustworthy.

  She was forcing him to spend just a little more time in her household. Maybe enough time for him to think about what he intended to do and reflect on the effect it could have on the children he was—temporarily—responsible for.

  But what if she was wrong?

  What if he contacted Social Services or the police and reported a house full of abandoned children? A house that had sustained a small fire already that evening? Amy might arrive home to find they’d all been lifted from their beds and taken to places where they would be under more appropriate supervision.

  She was good at texting as she moved. She fished her cellphone from the depths of her red bag.

  ‘Zoe? U ok?’

  ‘Al gud,’ came the response. ‘Talkin to G2.’

  G2? Oh, God! Amy stopped on the landing between the first and second floors. She meant ‘G squared’. Luke’s nickname at Lizzie’s. It stood for ‘Grumpy Guts’. It hadn’t occurred to Amy that the teenager would remember that, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

  With a groan, Amy pushed up the last flight of stairs. She could only hope that Zoe wouldn’t reveal her indiscretion to the head of Lizzie’s cardiothoracic surgical unit.

  ‘Do you know what they call you?’ the girl said to Luke. ‘“G squared”. It stands for “Grumpy Guts”.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Grumpy Guts,’ Zoe repeated with relish. ‘Nobody likes you. Not even Monty, and he likes everybody.’

  Sure enough, the extraordinarily tall dog, who was now sitting on a patched old blanket, was giving Luke a steady glare that could only be described as menacing. If it started growling, Luke was out of there.

  Zoe was watching him just as intently. Disconcertingly, only one eye was visible due to her strange, asymmetric fringe. ‘Why don’t you just go home?’ she demanded.

  Luke wasn’t used to social interaction with teenagers and he had never been this close to one who looked quite like this. Was she a member of some cult? The absurdly immature response of ‘This is my home’ occurred to Luke and he actually felt the corner of his mouth twitch. Instead, he shrugged off his coat, hung it over the back of a chair and sat down at the kitchen table.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ he said calmly. ‘I wouldn’t dream of leaving a houseful of children with no adequate supervision.’

  ‘Whaddya mean by that?’

  ‘You’re no older than the children you’re supposed to be looking after.’

  ‘I am so! I’m sixteen!’ The single eye narrowed. ‘Are you saying I’m stupid or something?’

  Behind the aggressive response, Luke saw the fear that Zoe believed that might be true. Had somebody suggested it already or was this just the normal kind of low self-esteem teenagers could struggle with?

  ‘Not at all.’ Luke held her gaze. ‘You’ve demonstrated you can cope very well. There’s not many people that would rescue a wolf. Twice!’

  Zoe was silent for a moment and then her mouth twisted into a grin that lit up her face. The delight was rapidly stifled, however.

  ‘I still don’t like you.’

  Luke nodded. ‘Because I made Amy cry.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  He frowned. ‘I don’t remember seeing her cry.’

  ‘’Course you didn’t. She did it in the loo. She told me about it ’cos I was crying about something this chick at school said. Amy said it was good to cry but then you had to suck it up and get on with your life. You couldn’t let mean things people said pull you down.’

  ‘Mean things?’ Luke was racking his memory. ‘I don’t say mean things to people.’

  ‘You did. You told Amy she was stupid.’

  ‘No.’ The head shake was decisive. ‘I would never say that.’

  ‘You did!’ Zoe insisted. ‘It was in the middle of the night and this baby got real sick and it had to have a tube thing stuck into it and Amy was trying to help you and the baby was screaming and she tried to give it a cuddle and she touched the stupid tube and you yelled at her and told her she was stupid.’

  Luke closed his eyes for a second. He remembered. About 3:00 a.m. last Thursday. He’d still been in the building due to emergency surgery on a child with major chest trauma from a car accident. An inpatient in the ward had run into trouble and needed a central line inserted. It had been a difficult enough procedure even getting local anaesthetic in place and then his nursing assistant had inadvertently brushed the sterile catheter with the sleeve of her gown.

  ‘I didn’t say she was stupid,’ he said slowly. ‘I think I said she was incompetent. That it had been a very clumsy thing to do.’

  Zoe didn’t answer. She was busy texting on her bright pink phone. Luke thought about the incident some more.

  It had been a clumsy error and he’d been tired and concerned about the child he’d only just left in Intensive Care. And the nurse assisting him had been gowned and masked and gloved and…and he hadn’t considered her feelings at all, had he?

  The slip hadn’t been a catastrophe. The trolley always had plenty of spare catheters and she had proved herself perfectly competent as she had silently continued to assist with the procedure. The knowledge that she had taken herself off afterwards to deal with the effects of his criticism came as something of a shock.

  And ‘Grumpy Guts’?

  Yes, he avoided social interaction with his colleagues. And, yes, he expected others to try and meet the professional standards he set for himself, but he was always polite and fair and he gave praise whenever it was deserved.

  He had made Amy cry.

  Amy—who was brave enough to fight for her family. To comfort and protect anyone who was in trouble. Even a dog. Strong enough to go and do what she had to do even though she must have known it was a risk.

  Had it not occurred to her that he could just call in some appropriate authority and have this household disbanded in one easy stroke?

  Luke could still see the plea in those dark eyes when she had asked him not to reveal his real reason for being in the house. He remembered the smile and the way it had made him feel, and then he understood.

  Amy was trusting him.

  She may not like him any more than Zoe did but, for whatever reason, she had handed over the responsibility of something she cared about passionately. If he broke that trust, he could guarantee she would hate him for ever.

  Luke didn’t like that idea at all.

  And it was only for an hour or two, wasn’t it?

  The ward was, mercifully, quiet.

  Margaret was due to go home but she hadn’t left yet. She was sitting in her office, gaping at Amy.

  ‘Luke Harrington? In your house? Babysitting?’

  ‘His house, apparently, and he wants to kick us all out onto the streets. Right before Christmas. Can you believe it?’

  ‘No.’ Margaret shook her head for emphasis. ‘Why would he want to do something like that?’

  ‘Because he’s not a very nice man.’

  ‘He’s a lonely man,’ Margaret said quietly. Her glance at Amy was a warning. ‘Not that I’m one to gossip.’

  ‘I know that.’ Amy smiled at the senior nurse. ‘And I’m sorry to dump on you, but I’ve got no one to turn to right now and I’m scared, you know? I can’t let anything happen while Mamma and Rosa are away. These children are Mamma’s life. They’re part of our family.’

  ‘I know.’ Margaret leaned forward to pat Amy’s hand. ‘And I can help. Let’s hope Personnel can come up with some cover for you tonight. If not, I’ll stay on myself.’

  ‘You can’t do that. You’d be way over your hours.’

  ‘Did you really leave Luke babysitting?’

  ‘Kind of. I’m hoping he’ll get a feel for the place and
then realise how sad it would be to break up the family.’

  Margaret’s frown looked puzzled. ‘I would have thought that would be the last thing Luke, of all people, would want to do.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’ And why had she described Luke Harrington as ‘lonely’? The word was echoing in Amy’s head.

  Lonely people needed comforting.

  They needed love.

  ‘If I tell you something, will you promise it won’t go any further?’

  Amy nodded and Margaret lowered her voice. ‘I grew up in Harrington Village,’ she said.

  ‘Oh-h-h!’ Amy could feel her eyes widening. ‘Where the manor house is? And Mr Harrington’s incredibly rich family?’

  ‘You know about that?’

  ‘I kind of guessed. It’s why he’s inherited the house. Uncle Vanni’s wife was a Harrington. She died in a horrible car accident.’

  ‘I heard that both Luke’s parents were killed in a car crash.’

  ‘It’s obviously what they wanted people to think. Maybe Uncle Vanni wasn’t considered good enough to be part of the Harrington clan.’

  That was a possible explanation, wasn’t it? That Uncle Vanni had said his son was dead because he’d been too mortified to confess he’d been deemed unacceptable?

  Margaret was frowning. ‘I don’t know about that. What I do know is that my son went to school with Luke. He went to visit the manor house a few times. He said it was really scary.’

  ‘Ghosts?’ Amy was enthralled. She could picture a vast, old gloomy house with pictures of Luke’s ancestors glowering down from within ornate gilt frames. A house that was hundreds of years older than the one she lived in and one that could have been the scene of feuds and scandals and possibly even murders….

  But Margaret was shaking her head. ‘Luke’s grandmother.’

  Amy blinked. OK, her nonna could be fierce and she had been known to poke an errant child with a knobbly finger or even her walking stick, but she was family. Family shouldn’t be scary.

  ‘She’s a wonderful woman,’ Margaret continued. ‘She must be nearly ninety now but she’s the guardian of just about every charitable trust in the district. I didn’t exactly move in the same circles but I often saw her and she’s the ultimate lady, you know what I mean?’

  Amy thought of Luke. The way he chose his words and spoke so clearly. The way he dressed and his reputation as a surgeon with unparalleled skill and attention to detail.

  Margaret lowered her voice to a whisper and there was a definite twinkle in her eyes. ‘I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if Lady Harrington still wore corsets!’

  Amy nodded slowly but her smile was distracted. She was beginning to understand. Luke had been brought up in an alien world and taught that everything had to be perfect. Lady Harrington wouldn’t have considered there was space in that world for a foreigner. Especially an Italian with that reputation of volatility and exuberance the nationality carried.

  Was it possible that Luke had been brought up to believe his father was dead? If that was the case, it would explain why no contact had ever been made. It would also mean that Luke would have been shocked to learn of his inheritance. Quite apart from a justified anger at a parent who had apparently chosen not to raise him, he was being left a dwelling in a state that was far from the perfection he’d been raised to expect.

  No wonder his first reaction had been to consider demolishing it.

  He’d never had a real family so he had no means to understand that it was what was within the walls of a dwelling that really mattered.

  Maybe Luke was the one who was wearing a corset. An emotional one.

  Amy got to her feet. ‘I’m going to check on everybody on my list,’ she announced. ‘By the time I’ve done that, hopefully there’ll be a pool nurse here and I can go home.’

  She wanted to get home as soon as possible.

  She knew how to fix this. There was a shining light at the end of what had been shaping up to be a very dark tunnel. The shadowy shape still blocking that light was man-shaped but Amy wasn’t the least bit deterred.

  She could fix Luke Harrington, too, if he let her!

  An hour had ticked past and Luke realised he’d missed his dinner, but he wasn’t the least bit hungry.

  He’d been sitting at the kitchen table since Zoe had disappeared to chivvy the older children to bed and to read a bedtime story to Chantelle. The big house was quiet and, uncharacteristically, Luke allowed himself to continue sitting in his somewhat dazed state. He hadn’t noticed that Monty had slithered off his blanket at some point and was now under the table. It wasn’t until he felt the weight of a large, black nose on the shiny leather of his shoe that he was aware of how close the giant dog had become.

  He didn’t want to antagonise the creature by shifting his toes. One chomp and that leather might not be enough protection. Zoe should be back shortly and the dog would be under control. Hopefully.

  It was only partly due to Monty’s breath on his ankle that Luke didn’t feel alone. He didn’t really need to hear the odd, muted bump or giggle from overhead, either, to remember how many occupants this house had. The feeling of their presence was everywhere.

  Like a heartbeat.

  Slow and steady. Different to when Amy had been in the house. She had an air of vibrancy that increased the beat. Gave it a few unexpected ectopics, even.

  Luke found himself smiling unconsciously at the nice, cardiological analogy. Yes. The pulse of anything would increase and become a little erratic if Amy was around.

  Especially when she was provoked. Her fierce words still rang in his ears.

  Over my dead body!

  A ridiculous thing to say. Over-emotional rubbish. Except that, at the time, he’d had the disturbing idea that she’d really meant it. She felt that strongly about it.

  Had he—would he—ever feel that strongly about anything? Be prepared to lay his life on the line? To want something so badly that life would not be worth living without it?

  Of course not!

  But, curiously—and for the first time—Luke could feel envious of someone who did feel that way. Someone who could experience the euphoria of genuine passion. The notion was merely a flash, however. Easily pushed aside when recognised.

  Passion denied rational thought. It involved lows, as well as highs. Misery that counterbalanced any happiness. An uncontrollable roller-coaster that Luke would never step onto because he was rational. He had to be. His career demanded it.

  Why hadn’t he used his rational intelligence and walked away from Amy’s passionate outburst? He had certainly intended to. He knew there was no point talking to someone in that state and the only way forward was to create space until they calmed down.

  She’d managed to get under his skin, though, hadn’t she? Prodded some weak spot he hadn’t known existed and he’d been sucked into responding. Worse, he’d lost it to the extent of revealing that he was planning to demolish this house out of spite and he didn’t even intend to keep the proceeds.

  Zoe would tell him it was a mean thing to do.

  And, dammit! She would be right.

  It wouldn’t hurt to leave it for a few days, would it? Until after Christmas.

  For Amy’s sake.

  Zoe eventually came back to the kitchen.

  ‘Monty! Get back on your rug!’ Zoe gave Luke a scathing glance as the dog wriggled backwards. ‘You still here?’

  ‘Apparently.’

  ‘Robert said you were shouting at Amy before I got here.’

  ‘I never shout. If anyone was raising their voice, that would have been Amy.’ Luke frowned. How much had the other children overheard?

  ‘Robert says you’re gonna pull our house down.’

  ‘Your house?’

  Zoe flushed. ‘Well, Monty lives here now and he’s my dog.’ Her voice rose defiantly. ‘You know what one of my mum’s boyfriends said to us once?’

  ‘Um…No.’

  ‘He had some stuff of Mum’s h
e wanted to keep. Like CDs. He said “possession is nine tenths of the law”.’

  Luke sighed. ‘The legal system doesn’t see it quite like that, I’m afraid.’

  Zoe snorted. ‘I don’t care. It worked for Wayne. He got to keep Mum’s stuff. It’ll work for us, too.’ Her eye was an angry slit. ‘You can sod off now. And when you’re gone, we’ll keep you out. You’ll see.’

  The confidence was impressive. Quite endearing, really, but misplaced. Zoe needed to learn to think things through.

  ‘Maybe I won’t go anywhere,’ Luke suggested. ‘I could just move in and then I’d have the nine tenths of the law. Ten tenths, if you consider that I’m legally the owner.’

  ‘You can’t do that!’ Zoe gasped.

  Luke raised an eyebrow. ‘It doesn’t seem a problem having extra people moving in around here, so why not? Uncle Vanni’s room is empty.’

  Zoe actually believed him.

  How crazy was that? Luke had the weird notion that he’d fallen down a rabbit hole and landed in a parallel universe. That he could even pretend to be thinking of doing something that would give his grandmother cause to disown him was…Well, it was unthinkable.

  Or it had been. Until now.

  What was even worse was that there was something vaguely appealing about the absurd notion.

  Zoe looked ready to cry again. Luke was about to reassure her when a small, pyjama-clad figure appeared in the doorway.

  ‘Chantelle?’ Zoe moved towards the younger girl. ‘What’s up, sweetie? I thought you were asleep.’

  ‘I was.’ Chantelle rubbed her eyes. ‘Summer woke me up. She’s making a funny noise.’

  Luke’s chair crashed over backwards due to the speed with which he got to his feet. Monty also rose and growled menacingly, but Luke ignored both events.

  ‘Show me,’ he demanded. ‘Which is Summer’s room?’

  The ‘funny noise’ Summer was making was a distressed whimper on every outward breath. A tired sound, as though the effort was just too great.

  Stepping into the room, Luke was instantly aware that it had the feel and even the smell of Amy. It was messy, with the clothes she had been wearing strewn over an unmade bed, but he barely registered a memory of how those jeans had clung to slim hips and how soft the woollen jumper had looked. The colours in the room were vibrant, with bright curtains and cushions. A faintly exotic scent that Luke couldn’t place, along with the flickering light from a low-burning fire, brought the room to life.