New beginnings?

Moving to the Dales is all about a fresh start for Dr. Elliot Grey, until he meets feisty—and beautiful—midwife Polly Davies. Not since his ex-wife abandoned him and their son has Elliot had such a strong reaction to a woman!

A relationship is the last thing he needs, yet there’s something special about Polly. Maybe it’s the way she’s bonded with his son, or that the pain of his past fades in her presence, but one thing is certain—he’s struggling to find reasons to stay away!

‘Is everything all right?’

Elliot jumped, his heart racing when he discovered that Polly was bending down beside the open window. Before he could stop himself he found himself taking rapid stock of large hazel eyes, a straight little nose, and a perfectly curved Cupid’s bow mouth. His racing heart raced a bit faster. He hadn’t noticed it before, but all of a sudden he realised how attractive she was...

‘Are you sure you’re OK?’

A slim hand reached out to close around his arm and Elliot flinched. It wasn’t her touch per se, but the effect it had on him. Heat poured through his veins, so that all of a sudden it felt as though he was on fire. What the hell was going on? Why was he burning up because this woman had touched him? It certainly fell beyond the range of rational explanation. All he could do was pray it would stop—and stop soon. Stop before the damage became permanent.

Panic rose inside him, adding to the conflagration. He didn’t want to respond to her this way—didn’t want to start yearning for things he had sworn he didn’t need. He wanted his life to remain exactly the same as it had been for the past eight years. And yet he had a feeling that it was already too late—that what had happened today had changed things… changed him. He took a deep breath as his vision swam. Today was going to affect his whole future, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it!

Dear Reader,

I love writing a series of books, as it gives me the chance to revisit some favourite characters as well as create new ones. I couldn’t wait to start my second book in The Larches Practice series because I had two wonderful new characters in mind.

Community midwife Polly Davies loves her job—and the mums who come under her care love her as well. She is kind and caring, and she definitely doesn’t deserve to be jilted on her wedding day! When she meets paediatric surgeon Elliot Grey she finds him cold and aloof. She doesn’t take to him at all—until she realises that he has a softer side he deliberately chooses to keep hidden.

Elliot was deeply hurt by the break-up of his marriage and has never really got over it. He has devoted his life since then to his work, and to caring for his handicapped son Joseph. Although Polly is still reeling from the shock of her wedding being called off, she finds herself drawn to this enigmatic man. Can she make him see that he is wrong to push people away and that he deserves to be happy?

Bringing Polly and Elliot together was a challenge. Elliot was determined to guard his emotions—even from me! I hope you enjoy their story and feel, as I do, that they deserve their happy ending.

Love,

Jennifer

Bride for the Single Dad

Jennifer Taylor

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JENNIFER TAYLOR has written for several different Mills & Boon series, but it wasn’t until she ‘discovered’ Medical Romances that she found her true niche. Jennifer loves the blend of modern romance and exciting medical drama. Widowed, she divides her time between homes in Lancashire and the Lake District. Her hobbies include reading, walking, travelling and spending time with her two gorgeous grandchildren.

Books by Jennifer Taylor

Mills & Boon Medical Romance

The Larches Practice

The Boss Who Stole Her Heart

Saving His Little Miracle

One More Night with Her Desert Prince…

Best Friend to Perfect Bride

Miracle Under the Mistletoe

The Greek Doctor’s Secret Son

Reawakened by the Surgeon’s Touch

Visit the Author Profile page

at millsandboon.co.uk for more titles.

Praise for Jennifer Taylor

‘A superbly written tale of hope, redemption and forgiveness, The Son that Changed His Life is a first-class contemporary romance that plumbs deep into the heart of the human spirit and touches the soul.’

—CataRomance

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

WHY DID THIS have to happen today of all days? Surely she had enough to contend with, without this as well!

Polly Davies struggled to contain her frustration as she brought her car to a halt. Opening the door, she hurried over to where two vehicles had collided in the centre of the carriageway. It was barely six a.m. and there was no other traffic about but Polly was very aware that if the accident had happened later then it could have been a different story. A lot of people could have been injured then so it seemed that even the darkest cloud could have a silver lining. Maybe that maxim could be applied to her own situation?

Polly bit back a sob, knowing that now wasn’t the time to dwell on what had happened. Right now her main concern was to check if anyone had been injured. It appeared that one of the vehicles had run into the back of the other. It was a very expensive car too, the logo on its bonnet declaring its pedigree for all the world to admire. Even as she watched, a tall dark-haired man climbed out of the driver’s seat, cursing under his breath when he saw the dent in the front bumper. It was obvious that he wasn’t seriously injured, however, so Polly headed towards the other vehicle, her footsteps quickening when she recognised it as the van belonging to the Applethwaite family. They used it to deliver their famous Dales lamb to the local shops and restaurants, but it was only as she drew closer that she realised Lauren Applethwaite was driving it. Polly’s heart sank. At three months pregnant, and with a history of miscarriages, this was the last thing that poor Lauren needed.

‘Lauren, are you all right?’ Polly demanded, opening the van door.

‘I don’t know. I had this terrible pain...’ Lauren broke off and groaned. ‘There it is again!’

‘Just try to stay calm,’ Polly instructed when she heard the panic in Lauren’s voice. She leant into the van, knowing that she couldn’t risk moving Lauren until she was sure that she hadn’t suffered a spinal injury. Her heart sank that bit more because the last thing she wanted was for Lauren to become even more upset if she had to remain in the van. The calmer she was, the better it would be for her baby...

‘Stop! For heaven’s sake, woman, have you no sense?’

Polly stopped dead when she heard a deep voice behind her. Turning, she saw the driver of the other vehicle striding towards her. He glared down at her and she shivered when she saw the hostility in his green eyes. As the community midwife, she was used to dealing with all types of people. However, she had never seen such naked animosity on anyone’s face before.

‘You never, ever, move an accident victim until you’re sure they haven’t suffered a spinal injury,’ he rapped out.

Polly flushed, resenting both his tone and his assumption that she had no idea what she was doing. However, before she could explain that she had been about to check that it was safe to move Lauren, he elbowed her aside. Sliding his hand between Lauren’s back and the seat, he gently ran his fingers down her spine, and Polly frowned. There was a confidence about his actions that pointed towards the fact that he knew exactly what he was doing. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him if he was medically trained when he turned to her and the question froze on her lips when once again she was treated to an openly hostile look. It made her wonder if he had a problem with her in particular or with women in general before she dismissed the thought. She had enough problems of her own without worrying about his.

The thought of what had happened in the past few hours rose up and swamped her before she could stop it. She should have realised that something was terribly wrong when Martin had failed to phone her last night, she thought, feeling the bitter tears stinging her eyes. She had tried calling him but she had been put straight through to voicemail. She must have left a dozen messages, asking him to phone her back, but when he still hadn’t replied by midnight she had got into her car and driven to the cottage they had bought. Martin’s parents had given them the deposit as a wedding present and Polly had been thrilled at the thought of them starting their married life in their very own home.

It had been a relief to find lights on when she had reached the cottage. At least it appeared that Martin hadn’t had an accident even if he hadn’t returned her calls, Polly had thought as she had let herself in. However, her anxiety had soon started to rise again as she had checked each room and found no sign of him. It was only when she had gone back to the sitting room that she had seen the envelope propped up on the mantelpiece...

‘There doesn’t appear to be anything wrong with her spine from what I can tell, but it would be better if we wait until the ambulance gets here before we attempt to move her.’

Polly dragged her thoughts back to the current situation when the man spoke to her. ‘That won’t be possible,’ she said, blanking out the thought of the furore it was going to cause when everyone found out what had happened. She forced down the fresh wave of panic that hit her, aware that there was nothing she could do about it. ‘We need to get her out of there immediately.’

‘There’s no way that I’m prepared to take that risk,’ he countered, his dark brows drawing together into a frown. It was obvious that he didn’t appreciate her arguing with him but Polly wasn’t going to let that deter her. Stepping away from the van, she beckoned for him to join her.

‘Lauren is three months pregnant,’ she explained flatly. ‘She has a history of miscarriages and has just told me that she’s having pains. She needs to lie down if we’re to have any chance at all of saving this baby.’

‘And you’re an expert on these matters, are you?’

‘Yes, as it happens I am.’ Polly bridled at the disparaging note in his voice. Normally, she would have let it pass but not today when she was already feeling so emotional. She looked coldly back at him. ‘I’m the community midwife for this area and Lauren is one of my patients. I think I can safely say that I know what I’m talking about.’

* * *

Elliot Grey could feel his temper soaring, which was unusual for him but he really didn’t need this aggravation on top of everything else that had happened recently. He had spent the past week trying to sort out the mess he had found himself in and he had failed. Miserably. He was no closer to finding anyone reliable to look after his son, Joseph, than he’d been this time last week. Not for the first time, he found himself wondering if he had made a huge mistake by moving to the Yorkshire Dales. Back in London, he could have contacted any of a dozen agencies and there would have been a highly qualified nanny knocking on his door a couple of hours later. Granted, he would have had to pay through the nose for such a service but money didn’t matter: making sure Joseph was safe and happy was his only concern...

But Joseph hadn’t been happy, had he? Elliot thought suddenly. Joseph had hated the constant changes, the fact that no sooner had a new nanny been hired then she would find another job and leave. That was why Elliot had decided to leave the city and relocate to the country. It would be easier to find someone permanent to care for Joseph while he was at work in a place where there were fewer jobs available, he had reasoned. However, it certainly hadn’t worked out that way. The woman he had hired had backed out at the last moment and finding anyone else qualified to look after an eight-year-old with major health issues was proving an uphill battle...

‘Hello? I hate to rush you but I would like to get this sorted out this side of Christmas if it isn’t too much trouble.’

The sarcasm in the woman’s voice roused him. Elliot glowered at the tall, red-haired woman who was watching him with what looked very much like disdain on her face. It was a whole new experience to have anyone look at him that way too. None of his former colleagues would have dared and, as for anyone else, then he would have soon put them in their place. However, he had a feeling that this woman cared little about upsetting him and it made him feel strangely vulnerable to realise that his disapproval meant nothing to her.

Elliot dismissed that thought as the fanciful nonsense it undoubtedly was. Moving back to the van, he peered inside, his reservations about moving the driver disappearing when he saw the pain on her face. It was obvious that they needed to get her out of there as quickly as possible.

‘I’ve a rug in my car—I’ll go and fetch it.’

He glanced round when the red-haired woman spoke beside him, feeling his senses swirl as he inhaled the fragrance of the shampoo she had used to wash her hair. It was years since he had been aware of something like that and it shook him so that he missed what she said next. ‘I’m sorry—what was that?’ he asked thickly.

‘Can you phone for an ambulance while I fetch the rug?’ she repeated. ‘Lauren’s in a great deal of pain and she needs to be in hospital.’

Elliot nodded, not trusting himself to say anything this time, although it was understandable if he was acting out of character after the week he’d had. The thought helped to reassure him as he took his mobile phone from his pocket and put through a call to the emergency services. He sighed inwardly when the operator explained that it would take some time for the ambulance to reach them. The sooner this was over and done with, the sooner he could get home to Joseph, he thought anxiously as he ended the call. Asking Mrs Danton, his newly acquired housekeeper, to spend the night with his son had been a last resort, but he’d had no choice when he had been called into work. However, he couldn’t expect Mrs Danton to keep covering for him so he would need to find someone suitable to look after Joseph soon...if he could.

The thought of what little success he’d had to date didn’t sit easily with him. It was a relief when the red-haired woman came back and he could turn his attention to other matters. Elliot moved aside while she bent down to speak to the driver.

‘We’re going to get you out of there now, Lauren. We’ll take it nice and slowly so there’s nothing to worry about. The ambulance is on its way and it won’t be long before it gets here.’

Elliot felt a ripple of something that felt very much like shame run through him and he frowned. Why did he feel ashamed to hear genuine concern in her voice? Was it the fact that he was more concerned about his own problems than this poor woman? When was the last time he had really felt anything? he wondered suddenly. When had he truly cared? Oh, he cared about Joseph, of course, cared about every aspect of his son’s life. It was his raison d’être, the thing that kept him focused. He also cared about utilising his skills to give his young patients a better quality of life, but even then his interest was detached, impersonal. He didn’t feel it inside, didn’t feel anything very much in there. Apart from his love for Joseph, his heart was a wasteland, empty, barren, and all of a sudden Elliot found himself wishing that it was different, that he was different. Listening to this woman, with her concern and her caring, he realised how much he was lacking.

‘Can you swing your legs out, Lauren? I know it hurts, love, but we need to lie you down.’

The woman’s voice was gentle, soothing, and for some reason Elliot felt his guilt subside. Moving closer to the van, he waited until the driver had swung her legs out of the door. ‘I’ll carry her,’ he said gruffly because old habits took a long time to die.

‘Are you sure you can manage?’

The redhead shot an assessing look at him, obviously weighing up his physique, and Elliot felt himself colour. It happened so fast too that he didn’t have time to stop it. Bending, he gathered the driver into his arms, feeling heat scudding around his body. He couldn’t recall ever blushing like this before, would swear that he had never done so, not even when he was a teenager, and the shock of what had happened robbed him of the ability to speak. He could only nod like some damned puppet as he carried the young woman over to the pavement and gently laid her down on the rug.

‘Thank you.’ The red-haired woman stepped around him and knelt down. ‘Where exactly is the pain, Lauren? Can you show me?’

‘Here.’ Lauren pointed to the lower right-hand side of her abdomen and Elliot frowned.

‘Appendix?’ he murmured, not realising that he had spoken out loud until the redhead looked sharply at him.

‘Was that a lucky guess or do you have some kind of medical training?’

‘Medical training,’ he said shortly. He had a list of qualifications as long as his arm but he wasn’t about to share them with her and have her make some disparaging remark. It shook him that he should be so sensitive all of a sudden and he hurried on. ‘I’ll check with ambulance control to see how long it will be before they get here.’

‘You do that. And, while you’re speaking to them, make sure they know the patient is three months pregnant with a history of miscarriages.’ Her tone was laced with genuine concern once more. ‘They need to be prepared when we get there.’

Elliot didn’t say anything as he moved away to make the call but it didn’t stop him thinking it. Somewhere along the line he had forgotten why he had gone into medicine in the first place—to alleviate suffering and help people. Would he ever find his way back to those days when he had cared? he wondered. Return to a time when each and every patient he had treated had left their mark? He hoped so, he really did. Because he knew with a sudden flash of insight that he would never be truly happy unless he did.

* * *

It was almost eight a.m. before Polly felt that she could safely leave the hospital. Lauren had been rushed to Theatre as it appeared that her appendix was on the point of rupturing. A scan had shown that her baby was safe and well and now she just needed to get through the operation. Although it wasn’t ideal in her condition, the surgeon seemed confident that all would be well.

‘Thanks again for everything you’ve done, Polly.’ Lauren’s husband, Sam, hugged her. ‘Having you there really helped Lauren—it stopped her panicking so much.’

‘I was happy to help, and even happier that the surgeon is so positive about the outcome.’ She hugged Sam back. ‘Everything will be fine, Sam, you’ll see.’

‘I hope so.’ Sam dredged up a smile, but it was obvious that he was deeply worried about them losing this much-wanted child. ‘Anyway, you get off now. Lauren will never forgive herself if you’re late because of her.’

‘Tell her from me that she’s not to give it another thought,’ Polly said quickly. She bit her lip, wondering if she should explain, but her brother, Peter, had insisted that he would be the one to break the news. She had phoned him as soon as she had read the letter Martin had left for her. Peter was based in New York these days and had only flown into the country that afternoon but he had hired a car and driven straight over to Beesdale. They had spent the night discussing what to do until in the end Peter had insisted that she should leave it to him. It had been a relief, if she was honest. The thought of the upset it was going to cause so many people wasn’t something she relished, so she would do as Peter had suggested, drive to York and catch the train to London as she and Martin had planned to do. At least it would give her a breathing space, time to make fresh plans, because that was what she was going to have to do now, of course.

It was a scary thought. Polly did her best not to panic as she said goodbye and left. She would take things one step at a time and eventually she would come out the other side, even though she couldn’t imagine what her life was going to be like in the future. A sob caught in her throat. All her plans were up in the air; everything she had expected to happen now wouldn’t take place. It was a daunting prospect, to say the least.

Polly was so deep in thought that she had made her way outside before she remembered that she had left her car in Beesdale. Lauren had begged her to go in the ambulance with her and Polly hadn’t given any thought to what she would do after she left the hospital. She sighed wearily. If her case hadn’t been in the car then she could have taken a taxi to the station but she would need the clothes she had packed, even if they had been chosen for a very different reason...

‘Do you want a lift?’

Polly glanced round when a taxi drew up alongside her, her eyebrows rising when she recognised the man seated in the back as the driver of the other vehicle involved in the accident. ‘What are you doing here?’ she said with a sad lack of grace.

‘It appears that I’ve pulled a muscle.’ He winced as he carefully rotated his shoulder. ‘The paramedics insisted I should be checked over—something to do with any action my insurance company may decide to take in the future. It’s a lot of fuss about nothing, in my opinion.’

‘It’s always safer to get these things checked out,’ Polly murmured, feeling guilty that she hadn’t asked him earlier if he had been injured. She had been too busy putting him in his place and it wasn’t like her to behave that way but, there again, nothing that had happened in the last eight hours was normal. Once again she felt panic well up inside her. Could she cope with a future that was going to be so very different from the one she had planned?

‘Look, do you want a lift or not? You may have nothing to do today but I need to get home.’

The impatience in the man’s voice was just what she needed to steady her. Polly glared at him. ‘Are you always this charming? Or are you making a special effort just for me?’

‘Believe me, I have treated you exactly the same as everyone else,’ he retorted.

‘Then you obviously need to work on your people skills,’ Polly shot back, wrenching open the taxi door.

She settled back in the seat as the driver set off, feeling weariness wash over her. The lack of sleep plus all the emotional turmoil she’d been through had left her feeling drained. Opening her bag, she took out the letter that Martin had left for her, forcing herself to re-read the few brief lines it contained. It was still hard to believe it was true but there it was, in black and white. He had met someone else and, although he was very sorry, he had realised that he wanted to be with her and not Polly. In the meantime, he was going away and would leave it to Polly to tell everyone that the wedding was cancelled. If she preferred to say that it had been a mutual decision then that was fine with him. He only hoped that in time she would understand that he had made the right decision for both of them.

Polly took a deep breath as she folded up the letter and put it back in her bag. She hoped so too, hoped that a time would come when she didn’t feel so completely and utterly at sea. She glanced at her watch, feeling the ready tears scalding her eyes. In a couple of hours’ time everyone in Beesdale would know that she wasn’t getting married today.

CHAPTER TWO

ELLIOT REACHED FOR his wallet as the taxi drew up. He still wasn’t sure why he had offered the woman a lift. Normally, it wouldn’t have crossed his mind and yet the moment he had seen her standing outside A&E he had felt compelled to help her. Why? Because she had looked so lost, so forlorn? Why should he care how she felt? He had no idea but he could have no more left her standing there than he could have...have flown to the moon!

‘Here we are then,’ he said, dismissing that ridiculous thought as they climbed out of the cab. He drummed up a smile, making an effort to appear a shade more cordial than he had been earlier. Just for a moment he was tempted to explain about the frustrating week he’d had before he thought better of it. Explanations were for the weak, for those people who were prepared to give others an advantage over them. And he had decided many years ago that he would never let anyone take advantage of him again. ‘Right back where we started.’

‘Oh...erm...yes.’

The woman jumped as though she had been lost in a world of her own and once again Elliot’s interest was piqued. Was she worrying about Lauren and her baby, he wondered, or was there something else troubling her? The question hovered on his lips but he forced it back. He wouldn’t ask, wouldn’t invite any confidences, wouldn’t get involved in any way at all. His life was fine the way it was. He had Joseph and his work to fill it and he didn’t need anything else. If and when he needed sex then he organised it with the same attention to detail that he arranged everything else. He always chose a woman who felt the same as he did, who didn’t want commitment but merely wanted to satisfy a need. He knew without even having to think about it that this woman didn’t fall into that category. No, she would expect the lot—marriage, commitment, a lifetime of togetherness—all the things he had sworn he would avoid after he and Marianna had divorced.

The thought of his ex-wife made his mouth tighten and he saw the woman beside him colour. Reaching into her bag, she took out her car keys. ‘I won’t detain you any longer. Thank you for the lift. I appreciated it.’

With that, she walked over to her car. Elliot watched her go, wondering why he felt as though he should have said something, but what exactly? Should he have thanked her for stopping earlier, perhaps? After all, if the accident had happened in the city then few people would have stopped—they would have been too busy with their own affairs to help a stranger. He would have had to deal with it himself, deal with the other driver as well. Although it wouldn’t have been a problem as such; after all, he was medically qualified. But would Lauren have told him that she was pregnant or would she have been put off by his attitude? The thought that she might not have disclosed the information settled like a heavy weight inside him. He couldn’t help wondering what other information he had missed over the years because people had been deterred by his less than encouraging approach. What had the redhead said before—that he needed to work on his people skills? It seemed she was right.

Elliot could feel all sorts of emotions swirling around inside him as he headed to his car. It was years since he had felt so unsure about his actions and it shook him. Every aspect of his life, from the tiniest detail to the most major decision, was always planned in advance. To find himself awash with doubts all of a sudden was scary. It made him feel vulnerable, defenceless.

‘Is everything all right?’

Elliot jumped, his heart racing, when he discovered that the woman was bending down beside the open window. Before he could stop himself, he found himself taking rapid stock of large hazel eyes, a straight little nose, a perfectly curved Cupid’s bow, and his racing heart raced a bit faster. He hadn’t noticed it before but all of a sudden he realised how attractive she was...

‘Are you sure you’re OK?’

A slim hand reached in and closed around his arm and Elliot flinched. It wasn’t her touch per se but the effect it had on him. Heat poured through his veins so that all of a sudden it felt as though he was on fire. What the hell was going on? Why was he burning up because this woman had touched him? It certainly fell beyond the range of rational explanation. All he could do was pray it would stop—and stop soon. Stop before the damage became permanent.

Panic rose inside him, adding to the conflagration. He didn’t want to respond to her this way, didn’t want to start yearning for things he had sworn he didn’t need. He wanted his life to remain exactly the same as it had been for the past eight years, and yet he had a feeling that it was already too late, that what had happened today had changed things, changed him. He took a deep breath as his vision swam. Today was going to affect his whole future and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it either!

* * *

Polly could feel the heat of the man’s skin flowing through her fingertips and frowned. Although it was a warm day for April, it wasn’t so warm that it should have caused such a rise in his temperature. Sliding her hand down to his wrist, she checked his pulse, her frown deepening when she discovered how rapid it was. He’d told her that he had strained a muscle but that didn’t explain why his pulse was racing like this, did it?

‘Do you feel sick or dizzy?’ she said, bending closer so that she could look into his eyes. Maybe he had hit his head when he had run into the back of the van, she thought anxiously. It was a known fact that a head injury could take some time to present itself and if it was left untreated it could have disastrous consequences. The thought sent a rush of fear scudding through her.

‘Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?’ Polly said urgently, checking his pupils for any irregularities, a sure sign of a head injury.

‘No. I just wrenched my neck.’

His voice was deep, husky, and Polly felt a frisson run through her. All of a sudden she was aware of him in a way she had never expected to be. She let her gaze travel over his face in the hope that she would find some clue there to explain what was happening. His eyes were green, a deep sea-green, framed by thick black lashes. His eyebrows were black too, making his skin appear paler than she would have expected, apart from along his jaw where the shadow of stubble had darkened it. His features were, frankly, uncompromising, the chiselled lines of his nose and jaw adding to the impression of a man who gave few concessions in life. Only his mouth hinted at a gentler side, the full lower lip looking disturbingly sensual. What would it be like to kiss him? Polly wondered. To feel his mouth on hers, hard and demanding at first, before his lips softened...

Heat flashed through her veins and she drew back abruptly, scared by the feelings that thought had aroused. She couldn’t recall feeling this kind of raw desire before, not even when she and Martin had made love. If she was honest, their lovemaking had been a disappointment. Although she’d had a couple of affairs during her time at college, she didn’t have a huge amount of experience and she had wondered if that was why their lovemaking hadn’t lived up to her expectations. Now she realised that it hadn’t been solely her fault and that Martin had been equally to blame. Oh, he might have gone through the motions of making love to her but had his heart been in it when he had met someone else? Someone he had wanted more than her? Polly sighed sadly. A lot of heartache could have been avoided if only Martin had found the courage to tell her the truth. It was a relief when the sound of a mobile phone ringing cut through her unhappy thoughts.

‘Elliot Grey.’ The man pressed a button on the dashboard and answered the call.

‘It’s Sister Thomas, sir. I’m afraid little Alfie Nolan’s condition has deteriorated. Dr Walters wants to take him to Theatre. He feels the faulty heart valve needs to be replaced immediately.’

Polly bit back a gasp as she listened to the conversation. So this was Elliot Grey! Oh, she’d heard about him, of course: who hadn’t? That one of the country’s leading paediatric surgeons had chosen to head up the team at their local hospital had set everyone talking. Polly had been as surprised as everyone else that he had opted to leave London and relocate to Yorkshire, and now that she had met him her amazement knew no bounds. Maybe it was naïve to make such an assumption but surely a man who spent his life caring for the most vulnerable patients should be more, well...approachable?

‘Tell Dr Walters that I shall be there as soon as I can. In the meantime, he’s to do nothing.’ Elliot Grey cut the connection without further ado. Polly suspected that he considered such niceties as saying goodbye a waste of his time. Scrolling down the list of telephone numbers, he selected one, speaking as soon as the call was answered. ‘It’s Elliot Grey. I have to go back to the hospital so I shall need you to stay with my son until I get back, Mrs Danton.’

‘I’m sorry, Dr Grey, but that isn’t possible. I’m looking after my grandchildren this morning while my daughter’s at work and I’m already late as it is,’ Iris Danton replied firmly.

‘Surely your daughter can find someone else to mind them,’ Elliot snapped back. ‘This is an emergency, after all.’

‘Maybe it is, but there’ll be another emergency if my daughter loses her job. No, I stepped in last night to help you but I can’t do it again today.’

With that the woman hung up. Polly sympathised with her because it was a bit rich to expect her to let down her daughter to fit in with Elliot Grey’s plans. However, she also knew how urgent it was that he returned to the hospital and it was that which made her speak up, that and nothing else. It definitely had nothing to do with all those crazy feelings that had swept through her a few minutes earlier.

‘I can mind your son if you’re stuck.’

‘You?’ Elliot Grey turned icy green eyes on her and Polly almost took a step back. She forced herself to stand her ground, wondering why he was so hostile when she was offering to do him a favour.

‘Yes, me. As I told you, I’m the community midwife for this area, so I think you can trust me to take good care of him.’ She shrugged when he just kept on staring at her. ‘My name’s Polly Davies. You can call the maternity unit if you want to check I’m who I say I am. They’ll vouch for me.’

‘I don’t doubt you are who you claim to be, Miss Davies. However, I do wonder why you would offer to look after Joseph. Out of the goodness of your heart, perhaps, or because you have an ulterior motive?’

‘An ulterior motive?’ Polly repeated blankly.

‘Yes. Now that you know who I am, I can’t help but wonder if you’re looking to earn yourself some Brownie points.’ His tone was clipped and Polly felt that shiver run through her again, the one she’d felt earlier when they had first met. It took her all her time not to let him see how much it disturbed her.

‘I’ve no idea what you mean.’

‘No? I thought my views on community midwives were widely known but apparently not. So, to reiterate, I am totally opposed to women having their babies at home, which is the approach you favour. In my opinion every baby should be born in the safety of a fully equipped maternity unit so that any problems can be dealt with promptly. To be blunt, Miss Davies, I would ban you and the rest of your cohorts from delivering any more babies if I could!’

Elliot knew that it had been tactless in the extreme to have said that but he couldn’t stop himself. He had seen far too many damaged children to change his views. Every child should be born in hospital and allowing home births to take place in this day and age was a disgrace, in his opinion. He would have dearly loved to expound his views but a glance at the dashboard clock put paid to that. He needed to get back to the hospital, but how could he when there was nobody to look after Joseph...? Unless he took Polly Davies up on her offer, always assuming she was still willing after him shooting her down like that.

‘I had no idea you held such stringent views, Dr Grey. Obviously, they haven’t filtered through to me. However, much as I would love to debate the points you raised, I doubt if this is the right time. My offer still stands and, no, I don’t expect any Brownie points for looking after your son. I’m not that naïve.’

‘Thank you.’ Elliot gritted his teeth, desperately trying to hold back the apology that hovered on the tip of his tongue. That he should feel the need to apologise when he knew he was right was shock enough; however, the fact that he was so desperate to make amends was an even bigger one. What was it about this woman that made him feel so out of control? he wondered as he started the car. She had the ability to make him doubt himself and he didn’t enjoy the experience. He liked to be fully in control of himself—no, not liked, needed. It made him feel safe.

Elliot drove that disturbing thought from his head, not wanting her to suspect how on edge he felt. ‘I suggest you follow me home so I can introduce you to Joseph. I’ve bought the old blacksmith’s cottage in Trefoil Lane—do you know it?’

‘Yes,’ she replied succinctly then turned away. Going over to her car, she started the engine, not waiting for him as she set off.

Elliot slid the powerful car into gear, curbing the urge to put his foot down and overtake her when they reached the open road. So she didn’t need him to lead the way—so what? If she was trying to prove her independence then he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anyone except Joseph. The strange thing was that, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself, it didn’t ring true. Deep down inside, in some long-abandoned place, he did care. He cared a lot, cared about her opinion of him. Foolish though he knew it was, he didn’t want Polly Davies to think badly of him.

* * *

It was almost nine a.m. when Polly drew up outside The Old Smithy, as the cottage was known locally. She could hear the clock on Beesdale Church chiming the hour as she got out of the car and sighed. By rights she should have been on the train by now, but what else could she have done in the circumstances? Elliot Grey needed her help even if he had been less than gracious about accepting it. Did he honestly think that she had been trying to worm her way into his good books by offering to mind his son? she thought as she walked up the path. Well, if that were the case, he was in for a shock. He might think he was next to God in the pecking order but he was a long way from being that, in her opinion!

‘Come along. I need to get back to the hospital as soon as possible.’

The subject of her thoughts swept past her and opened the front door. Polly’s mouth thinned as she followed him inside. Would it hurt him to employ a few basic good manners? she thought sourly. Behave like any normal person would do in the circumstances? She didn’t expect him to go over the top—just to appear grateful would be enough. However, it seemed that gratitude and Elliot Grey weren’t acquainted with one another.

She followed him along the hall, taking stock as she went. She knew that the cottage had been converted by its previous owners, a couple from London who had used it as a weekend retreat until travelling back and forth had become too much of a hassle. They had spent a fortune on it, if rumour was to be believed, and the original cottage now encompassed what had once been the blacksmith’s forge.

However, it wasn’t until she stepped into the kitchen that she realised just how much it had changed. The room was enormous and wonderfully spacious despite the impressive range of top-end fitments. Polly sighed as she drank it all in, from the marble-topped island in the centre to the cosy family corner complete with squashy leather sofa. It was the kitchen she and Martin had dreamed about, not that they could have hoped to own a place as spectacular as this even if they had got married...

‘Who are you?’

The question brought her back to earth with a bump. Polly turned to find a small boy of about eight years of age watching her with an all too familiar expression in his green eyes. Talk about a chip off the old block, she thought ruefully as she took in the dark brown hair, the clean-cut features, not to mention the air of reserve the child projected. He had to be Elliot’s son; the resemblance was too marked for him not to be. The only thing that set him apart from his father was the fact that he was in a wheelchair.

Polly’s gaze flew to Elliot and her heart seemed to scrunch up inside her when she saw the expression on his face, all the love mingled with a fear that she might say something to hurt the child. In that moment everything she felt about him was turned on its head, turned upside down and inside out as well. Now he was no longer a pain in the proverbial, some insufferable, self-opinionated man who needed putting in his place. Now he was simply a loving father who wanted to protect his child, and Polly realised that she could forgive him anything because of that.

CHAPTER THREE

‘MY NAME’S POLLY DAVIES. And you must be Joseph. How do you do?’

Elliot let out the breath he hadn’t even known he was holding as Polly reached out and shook Joseph’s hand. She didn’t do what so many folk did, what they thought they should do, and bend down so she was on his son’s level. She simply held out her hand and that was it, and it was a form of acceptance of Joseph’s condition that touched him in ways Elliot could barely understand. Polly wasn’t pretending that Joseph was the same as every other child his age, but she wasn’t making an issue of it either by overcompensating. He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the unfamiliar lump that had found its way there.

‘Polly is going to look after you while I go back to the hospital, Joseph.’

‘Is the baby still not well?’ Joseph spun his wheelchair around, his face alight with interest. Elliot had no idea if it was right or wrong but he always discussed his cases with him. Joseph had become his sounding board, in a way; he ran through what he had done, checking in his own mind that he couldn’t have done more, and Joseph listened even if he didn’t always understand the complexities of what he was hearing.

‘No. Sadly one of his heart valves isn’t working properly. It needs replacing so I’ll have to go back and see to it. Mrs Danton has to mind her grandchildren this morning so Polly has offered to stay with you.’ It was the first time that Elliot had said Polly’s name and he felt the tiniest frisson run down his spine, like fairy footsteps tiptoeing over his skin. He wasn’t sure why it was happening and certainly wasn’t going to make the mistake of searching for an explanation so he hurried on. ‘Is that all right with you?’

‘Uh-huh.’ Joseph shot an assessing glance at Polly. ‘Are you a nanny?’

‘No. I’m a midwife,’ she replied evenly, not at all put out, it appeared, about being cross-questioned.

‘So you work at the hospital?’ Joseph continued, weighing up what she had said.

‘No. I’m a community midwife. I deliver babies at home and also take care of the mums before and after their babies are born.’

‘Dad thinks you lot should be banned,’ Joseph told her, ignoring Mrs Danton’s tut of disapproval. ‘He says you do more harm than good.’

‘So I believe.’ Polly glanced at him and Elliot stiffened in readiness for what would come next. ‘Sadly, even the cleverest people can be wrong sometimes, Joseph.’

Joseph laughed, his small face lighting up with amusement. ‘Dad won’t like you saying that—do you, Dad?’

‘Ahem. It’s a discussion best left till another time,’ Elliot murmured, feeling as though he had been caught flat-footed. He had expected a far more acerbic response and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. Surely Polly wasn’t softening towards him...was she?

Those wretched fairies were at it again, running fairy-sized races up and down his spine, and he had to force himself not to get side-tracked by that strangely appealing thought. Mrs Danton was putting on her coat and he thanked her for minding Joseph then turned to Polly as soon as she had left. ‘I don’t know how long I’ll be so you may need to sort out something for lunch. Joseph can show you where everything is.’

‘Fine. It’s not a problem.’ She shrugged off her coat and tossed it over a chair then went to the kettle and switched it on. ‘How about a drink, Joseph? Juice? Milk? Hot chocolate? What do you fancy?’

‘Cola,’ Joseph replied immediately.

‘Oh, no,’ Elliot began but he got no further.

‘Nice try, sunshine, but I doubt if your dad lets you have fizzy drinks at this time of the day, so choose something else,’ Polly said firmly.

‘Milk then,’ Joseph muttered, rolling his eyes.

‘Coming right up.’

She went to the huge American-style refrigerator, took out the milk then opened a cupboard and took out a glass. Elliot watched in amazement, marvelling at how at home she seemed to be. He was still finding his way around, opening cupboard after cupboard before he found what he wanted, and it was galling to admit it, galling too that she had dealt with Joseph so efficiently. People had a tendency to let him get away with things because of his disability, but not Polly. She had treated him the same as she would have treated any other child and, for the first time since Joseph was born, Elliot felt redundant. He wasn’t sure if he liked the idea either.

‘I’d better get going,’ he said gruffly, realising how ridiculous he was being. He should be glad that Joseph seemed happy to let Polly look after him. ‘Can you walk me out?’

‘Of course.’ Polly grinned at the little boy. ‘Your dad’s probably going to give me a list of dos and don’ts so be warned: I shall be completely up to speed when it comes to any more dodgy requests, young man!’

Joseph laughed again and Elliot hid his amazement because it wasn’t like him to take to a stranger so readily. Joseph could be difficult at times yet he seemed to have responded instantly to Polly the same as he, himself, had done. It was another thought that Elliot didn’t intend to give any room to. He strode along the hall, only halting when he reached the front door. Polly had stopped as well, so close that once again he could smell the scent of her shampoo, a fragrance that made his senses tingle... Clang! The barriers came down, shutting off that idea before it could go any further. He never entertained such fanciful thoughts about any woman and he refused to start now.

‘Joseph has medication he needs to take,’ he said, enunciating every word as he strove to clear his mind. ‘The details of time and dosage is in the top drawer of my desk in the study, along with the tablets he takes.’ He pointed out the room. ‘Any problems then phone me. My number’s on speed dial, along with the number of Joseph’s consultant in London. You can phone him if there’s a problem and I’m unavailable for any reason.’

‘Isn’t Joseph registered at The Larches surgery?’ Polly asked, frowning.

‘He is, but I would prefer it if you contacted his consultant if there’s a problem and you can’t reach me. Professor Rose has been responsible for Joseph’s care since he was a baby and he’s fully conversant with his case.’

‘I see. What exactly is wrong with Joseph?’

‘Spina bifida,’ Elliot replied succinctly. He knew it was stupid but he still found it difficult to talk about his son’s condition. Guilt rose up inside him, as it did every time he had to explain what was wrong with Joseph. He should have checked that Marianna was following her consultant’s advice and taking the supplements he had prescribed then maybe Joseph wouldn’t have been born with this condition!

‘I imagine it was detected during his mother’s pregnancy,’ Polly said gently and her tone was such a contrast to the rush of emotions which had hit him that Elliot couldn’t help reacting.

‘It showed up on one of the scans.’ Elliot tried his best, he really did, but it was impossible to keep the anger out of his voice. ‘And if Joseph’s mother had had her way then he wouldn’t be here now.’

‘Really!’ Polly exclaimed, unable to hide her surprise. ‘You mean that she wanted a termination?’

‘Yes. Marianna couldn’t handle the thought of having a child that wasn’t perfect,’ he replied harshly. Polly had the impression that he was struggling to regain control, but it was obvious that he was finding it difficult. There was anger in his voice when he continued and her heart ached for him. ‘The only thing she wanted was to get rid of the baby as quickly as possible.’

‘So how did you manage to persuade her to keep it?’ she said gently, wishing there was a way to comfort him. She sighed softly because, even though they had met only that day, she knew that he wouldn’t welcome her sympathy.

‘By offering her the one thing guaranteed to make her change her mind: money.’ He laughed and she flinched when she heard the bitterness in his voice. ‘I paid my ex-wife to have Joseph. And I’ve never regretted it either.’

Polly didn’t know what to say. Elliot had paid Joseph’s mother to go through with the pregnancy? The thought of how traumatic it must have been for him to do that brought tears to her eyes but she blinked them away. It wouldn’t help him if she gave in to her emotions.

‘It must have been a very difficult time for you,’ she said, struggling to strike the right note, not an easy thing to do when she felt so shaken by what he had told her.

He shrugged. ‘It’s all water under the bridge now.’ He opened the door then glanced back, and Polly felt her heart catch when she saw the pain in his eyes. Maybe he claimed that it no longer mattered but she could tell that it did. ‘Any problems then phone me.’

‘I will,’ she promised, although she doubted if he had heard her as he was already walking to his car. She closed the door, knowing it was pointless standing there to wave him off. That was something else he wouldn’t appreciate and it hurt to know how determined he was to distance himself from other people. It was an effort to smile when Joseph looked expectantly at her as she went back to the kitchen. Maybe it had nothing to do with her, but she hated to think of Elliot choosing to lead such a lonely existence.

‘Right, young man, what do you usually do at this time of the day?’ she said, forcing herself to sound upbeat. The last thing she wanted was to upset Joseph. The thought of his mother not wanting him because he wasn’t perfect hurt, but she managed to contain her feelings. ‘I imagine you’re in school normally but, with it being the Easter holidays, we need to find something to occupy you. What’s your favourite way to pass the time?’

‘Playing on my games console,’ Joseph replied promptly. He spun his chair around and made his way to the huge television set mounted on the wall opposite the sofa. Picking up the remote control, he switched it on then turned on the games console as well. ‘Do you know how to play?’ he asked hopefully.

‘Yes, although I’m not very good,’ she admitted, feeling pain stab through her as she picked up the spare controller.

After their parents had been killed in a car crash when Polly was twelve, she and her brother had gone to live with Martin’s family. Both sets of parents had been close friends and it had seemed the natural thing to do in the absence of any other family to look after them. Peter and Martin were three years older than Polly, but they had included her in all their games. Even though Peter had moved to New York after he had finished university, he and Martin often played online together. Now she sighed as she sat down on the sofa. She couldn’t imagine them playing again after what had happened. Cancelling the wedding was going to have repercussions for a lot of people.

She played for a little while then excused herself to check on Joseph’s medication. Times and dosages were clearly written down on the sheet of paper she found in Elliot’s desk, along with the medication itself. Joseph wasn’t due to take anything until lunchtime so she put everything back in the drawer and turned to leave, pausing when she caught sight of a photograph on the shelves behind the desk. It showed a beautiful blond-haired woman laughing into the camera. Was this Joseph’s mother? she wondered. Elliot had referred to her as his ex-wife but the fact that they were divorced didn’t mean he wouldn’t have a photograph of her. Even if she had behaved deplorably, it didn’t rule out the fact that he might still have feelings for her.

Polly turned away, surprised by how painful she found that idea. What did it matter if Elliot was still in love with his ex-wife? It had nothing to do with her.

* * *

‘I’ll be in my office. Tell the parents I’ll speak to them shortly.’

Elliot left Theatre, not bothering to check if his instructions had been noted. He simply expected his staff to do what he said and that was that. Was he being arrogant, perhaps? he found himself wondering as he headed to the changing rooms. Polly Davies would have said that he was and the fact that her opinion counted for anything was a source of irritation to him. He had met her only that day so why should he care what she thought?

He showered and dressed then made his way to his office. The previous incumbent had decorated it according to his taste and Elliot was keen to stamp his own mark on it as soon as he could. He cast a disparaging glance at the wall behind the desk, which was filled with photographs of the babies his predecessor had treated. He didn’t need pictures to prove he was good at his job and had no intention of carrying on the tradition, although, if he was honest, wouldn’t he have been glad to see some kind of visible proof that Joseph would survive in the days following his birth?

Elliot’s brow furrowed as he sat down. It wasn’t like him to start having second thoughts and the fact that he was debating the merits of some old photographs surprised him. Quite frankly, he had been behaving completely out of character ever since that morning and although he wished he could blame it on the accident, he had a feeling that it had more to do with one irritating young woman. Polly Davies had got under his skin and the sooner he got her out again and returned to normal the happier he would be!

Alfie’s parents arrived a few minutes later so Elliot pushed all other thoughts out of his head while he dealt with them. He ran through what he had done, outlining the procedure to replace the faulty valve in their baby’s heart. The parents had had no warning that anything was wrong so it had been a huge shock for them when Alfie was born and rushed to Theatre. Elliot found that he could relate to how they felt and was less brusque than he might have been normally as he explained that although Alfie was still very poorly, he was hopeful as to the outcome. Sister Thomas smiled approvingly as she ushered the young couple out of the room.

‘Thank you, sir. I’m sure Hannah and Ben are very grateful for all you’ve done.’

Elliot nodded, clamping down on the feeling of warmth that filled him. It was years since he had felt such a connection to a patient and their family and it threw him completely off balance. Was it a good thing? That morning he had decided that he needed to open up a bit but now he wasn’t so sure. After all, if he was personally involved in a case then he couldn’t remain detached and that was what he had sworn he would do after he and Marianna had divorced. Never again would he allow his emotions to be trampled on. Never again would he fall in love and run the risk of being let down. Oh, he would love Joseph and love him enough to make up for the fact that the boy didn’t have a mother, but he wouldn’t give his heart to anyone ever again. Was he really prepared to change all that, to open himself up to more heartache?

Elliot took a deep breath then switched on the computer. He would write up his case notes and then he would go home. Home to his son, the only person he needed, the only person he would ever love.

CHAPTER FOUR

POLLY WAS JUST heating some soup for Joseph’s lunch when she heard a car drawing up outside. The morning had flown past as she and Joseph had found various things to do. It turned out that he was an accomplished artist and he had spent some time in the garden drawing a picture of the surrounding countryside. Polly had helped him manoeuvre his chair outside, no easy task as the ground was rather rough. She intended to mention it to Elliot before she left. Now she glanced around when she heard his footsteps coming along the hall.

‘Good timing. I’ve just heated some soup for lunch. There’s enough for two so sit yourself down while I fetch Joseph. He’s outside, finishing off his picture.’

‘Outside?’ Elliot’s expression darkened as he glanced towards the garden. ‘It’s far too cold for him to be out there.’

‘Nonsense,’ Polly said firmly. ‘It’s a beautiful day and the fresh air will do him good. It’s far better than spending the day in front of a television screen, if you want my opinion.’

‘I don’t. I shall decide what’s best for Joseph, and sitting outside in the cold is the last thing he should be doing.’

He didn’t say another word as he strode out of the back door. Polly pulled a face at his retreating back, not caring if it was childish. There was something about Elliot Grey that seemed to bring out the worst in her. She spooned the soup into bowls and set them on the table then took a loaf of bread out of the bread bin. There was butter in the fridge and she put that on the table as well. She had just finished when Joseph came whizzing back into the kitchen and came straight over to her to show her the picture he had drawn.

‘I’ve finished it, Polly. What do you think?’ he asked eagerly.

‘That you are one very talented little boy.’ Bending down, she gave him a hug. ‘I absolutely love it, Joseph. It’s brilliant, isn’t it, Elliot?’ she added, glancing up in time to see the strangest expression cross Elliot’s face. The best way to describe it was a kind of wistful sadness, although it disappeared so fast that she found herself wondering if she had imagined it.

‘Yes, it is. Although, as I said before, Joseph should never have been allowed to sit outside in the first place.’

Joseph’s face fell. He didn’t say anything else as he manoeuvred his chair next to the table, but Polly could tell how disappointed he was by his father’s reaction. Had Elliot really needed to spoil the moment for him by saying that? she thought angrily. It was on the tip of her tongue to remonstrate with him but she knew it would be wrong to say anything in front of Joseph and risk upsetting him even more. She settled instead for pouring Joseph a drink of juice and switching on the kettle, although Elliot could make his own coffee. She certainly didn’t intend to stick around and pander to him!

‘Right, I’ll leave you to it then.’ Polly picked up her coat, feeling her heart suddenly sink. Looking after Joseph had proved the perfect distraction but now she needed to think about what she was going to do. It was only midday and there was still time to catch the train to London; however, the thought of spending the coming week wandering around on her own wasn’t appealing, but what choice did she have? She couldn’t face going back to Martin’s parents’ house—it would be too awkward for all of them. There was always the cottage, of course, but she had no idea if Martin was planning to stay there once he came back home. Panic gripped her as the true precariousness of her situation hit her. She simply didn’t have anywhere to go!

* * *

Elliot wasn’t sure what was going on but there was definitely something wrong if the expression on Polly’s face was anything to go by. Even though he knew that he shouldn’t get involved, he couldn’t help himself. Walking around the table, he slid his hand under her elbow and steered her to a chair. ‘Sit down before you fall down,’ he said gruffly because acting the part of the Good Samaritan didn’t come easily to him. The kettle clicked itself off so he went to the counter and spooned instant coffee into a mug. ‘Sugar?’ he asked, his heart lurching when Polly stared blankly back at him.

‘Polly doesn’t take sugar,’ Joseph told him helpfully. ‘She just has milk in her coffee.’

‘Right. Thank you.’ Elliot smiled at his son and Joseph smiled back, making it clear that he had forgiven him for his over-the-top response before. It had been OTT too, Elliot admitted as he went to get the milk from the fridge. Although it was a bit chilly outside, Polly had been right to say that Joseph would gain more from being in the fresh air than being stuck in front of a television screen.

Elliot felt his hand start to shake as he added milk to the mug. It was the first time he had ever conceded that anyone else might be right when it came to what was best for Joseph and it unnerved him. Up till now he had been the one to make all the decisions concerning his son; he had been the one to make all the rules too. And yet here he was, admitting that this woman who he had met only that morning knew more than he did about what was good for Joseph.

The thought disturbed him so much that it was a miracle he didn’t spill the coffee as he took it over to the table. He had sworn that he would do his best for Joseph after he was born and that every decision he made would be in his son’s best interests too, but what if he had been fooling himself? What if the decisions he had made weren’t the best he could have taken? There was only him to make any decisions, after all. Marianna had made it clear from the outset that she’d wanted nothing to do with their child, not when, as she had put it, he was so hideously damaged. Elliot hadn’t realised before how much he would have liked to discuss the choices he’d had to make. He had simply done what he had thought was right, but what if he could have consulted someone else, someone like Polly, who saw the situation through fresh eyes?

Elliot took a deep breath, tamping down the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. He mustn’t go down that route, no matter how tempting it was. As he knew to his cost, allowing people into his life was a recipe for disaster.

* * *

Polly felt her stomach churn as the smell of the coffee hit her. She swallowed hard, afraid that she would embarrass herself even more by throwing up. That Elliot had realised something was wrong was obvious and she hated to think that she was making a fool of herself, only she couldn’t help it.

Where was she going to live, not just now but in the future? Could she even remain in Beesdale or would she have to move somewhere else? Martin’s family were well-known in the town. Martin’s father had founded the local solicitor’s office, and Martin had gone to work there with him after he had finished university. The firm handled all the legal work in the area and both Martin and his father had a reputation for being completely honest and trustworthy. Although her brother, Peter, had decided that it would be better to tell everyone it had been a mutual decision to cancel the wedding, as Martin had suggested in his letter, would they believe that? After all, she and Martin had known each other for years and there was bound to be a lot of speculation as to why they had decided to call off the wedding at the very last moment. The thought of everyone finding out that Martin had left her for another woman was more than Polly could bear. The last thing she wanted was to be seen as an object of pity!

‘Here. Drink this.’

A large hand pushed the mug towards her and Polly jumped. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she had forgotten where she was for a moment. Picking up the mug, she took a gulp of the coffee then gasped when it scalded her throat.

‘Careful!’

The same hand moved the mug out of her reach and she frowned. First he wanted her to drink it and now he didn’t—couldn’t he make up his mind? Opening her mouth, she went to tell him what he could do with his wretched coffee then suddenly thought better of it. She certainly didn’t want to create a scene in front of Joseph.

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