Praise for Annie Claydon:

‘A compelling, emotional and highly poignant read that I couldn’t bear to put down. Rich in pathos, humour and dramatic intensity, it’s a spellbinding tale about healing old wounds, having the courage to listen to your heart and the power of love that kept me enthralled from beginning to end.’

—GoodReads on ONCE UPON A CHRISTMAS NIGHT

‘A lovely story—I really enjoyed this book, which was well-written by Annie as always.’

—GoodReads on

RE-AWAKENING HIS SHY NURSE

‘Well-written brilliant characters—I have never been disappointed by a book written by Annie Claydon.’

—GoodReads on

THE REBEL AND MISS JONES

‘I’d like some company.’

He reached forward and found her hand. When he pulled her glove off it felt as if he was undressing her. He laid his gentle fingers around hers, and it was as if they were naked already. Neve leaned forward, brushing her lips against his.

The suddenness of his next move activated his seat belt, and for a moment he was pinned against the seat. Cursing, he punched the release, twisting round and pulling her into his arms. Sudden heat jolted through her when he kissed her.

‘Come inside.’

The gear-shift was in the way, and the steering wheel wouldn’t allow him to get as close as she’d like. Their clothes wouldn’t allow him to get as close as she’d like…

‘If I let you go…?’

‘You’re going to have to. One step back and two steps forward.’

His lips curved against hers. ‘I like the way you think…’

Dear Reader

When I was writing my first book, one of the (many) details I worried about was the fact that I’d described a very sharp frost and frozen pipes before Christmas. Would this be entirely believable? In the previous few years we’d had mild winters, without any really cold weather before Christmas. But the unpredictable British climate came to my rescue, and December 2010—the winter before that first book was published—was one of the coldest we’d experienced for a hundred years, with enough snow to make my December cold snap seem a little bit understated!

So this time around I’ve no qualms about giving my characters something a bit more extreme to deal with. Dr Neve Harrison doesn’t have the luxury of being able to give in to adverse weather conditions. She’s struggling to get to all her patients, despite heavy snow and blocked roads. So when Joe Lamont turns up on her doorstep, ready and able to help, it seems that her luck has changed.

Together, they’re more than a match for those adverse weather conditions—but Joe himself is a more daunting proposition. His secrets threaten to break Neve’s heart, and deprive her of the thing she wants most in the world.

I hope you enjoy Joe and Neve’s story. I’m always thrilled to hear from readers, and you can contact me via my website at www.annieclaydon.com

Annie x

Cursed from an early age with a poor sense of direction and a propensity to read, ANNIE CLAYDON spent much of her childhood lost in books. After completing her degree in English Literature she indulged her love of romantic fiction and spent a long, hot summer writing a book of her own. It was duly rejected and life took over. A series of U-turns led in the unlikely direction of a career in computing and information technology, but the lure of the printed page proved too much to bear, and she now has the perfect outlet for the stories which have always run through her head, writing Medical Romance™ for Mills & Boon®. Living in London—a city where getting lost can be a joy—she has no regrets for having taken her time in working her way back to the place that she started from.

Snowbound
with the
Surgeon
Annie Claydon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Dedication

To Noreen, who taught me how to end well.

Table of Contents

Cover

Praise for Annie Claydon

Excerpt

Dear Reader

About the Author

Title Page

Dedication

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

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

THIRTY PACES TO her gate. Neve counted them all. After that, ten paces would be enough to take her up the front path. It turned out to be eleven because she slipped on the ice, grabbing at the porch rails to steady herself and wrenching her shoulder as her heavy medical bag fell to the ground.

She waved her hand in front of the sensor for the porch light, and nothing happened. The electricity was still off, then. All the same, the cast-iron stove in the kitchen would be throwing out heat, and she couldn’t wait to get inside. Just as she was about to savour the moment of sliding the key into the lock of her own front door, her phone rang. Dammit. If she had to go out in the snow again tonight…

If she had to go out again tonight, then so be it. She’d turn around, slide back down the front path and hope that it wouldn’t take twenty minutes to start her car this time. The vision of sipping a hot drink and letting her toes thaw in front of the stove, which had carried her through the last hours of a very long day, began to recede.

‘Yeah, Maisie. What have you got for me?’

‘Good news…’

‘Really?’ Neve took the risk of further disappointment and opened the front door, stepping inside and dumping her bag in the hallway. It wasn’t much warmer in here, but the kitchen door was closed against the chill in the rest of the old farmhouse. ‘Is it safe to take my coat off?’

‘Aren’t you home yet?’

‘Just. It took me over an hour to get back from my last appointment. The road through Cryersbridge was blocked by a car that slid out of control, and we had to wait until it was towed.’

‘You must be frozen. Are you in the warm now, pet?’ Maisie Johnstone was the wife of the senior partner of the Yorkshire practice that Neve had joined eighteen months ago, and sometimes took it upon herself to mother Neve. That was okay. Neve could do with a bit of that at the moment.

‘Hold on…’ Neve tramped through to the kitchen, her boots shedding shards of ice onto the carpet. Opened the door, and the heat hit her like a soft, welcoming pillow. Light flared as she struck a match and lit the candles on the kitchen table, and she shed her coat and sat down. Pulling her boots off with one hand, she pressed her phone to her ear with the other.

‘Fire away, Maisie, I need some good news…’

She heard Maisie’s chuckle at the other end of the line. ‘Some of the local practices have got together with the healthcare trust to organise a group of volunteers with four-wheel-drive vehicles. The idea is that they’ll help doctors and district nurses who are having difficulty getting through to patients. You’ve got your very own escort for tomorrow.’

Neve swallowed hard. This sounded too good to be true, and if the general trend for today was anything to go by, that meant it was. ‘Who? Is he local?’

‘Lives in Leminster. He’s from Canada, so I suppose he must know a bit about snow.’

‘Sounds promising.’

‘It is. Joe’s a nice guy. Outdoorsy type. Moved here just before Christmas last year. He was on crutches then, but that was only for a couple of months. He built a front porch for Edie Wilcox last summer and put in grab rails so she could get in and out of the house…’

‘Wait… Who’s Edie Wilcox?’ Maisie had lived in this area all her life and seemed to know the life histories of everyone within a thirty-mile radius.

‘She lives in Leminster. Married old Stan Wilcox and they argued for thirty-seven years non-stop until he dropped down dead from a heart attack. She was devastated and didn’t go out of the house for a couple of years…’

‘She doesn’t go out?’

‘Oh, that was twenty years ago. She goes out all the time now. Likes to terrorise the tourists in the summer. Edie’s a tough old bird and proud with it. She won’t let the social services past the front door, but she must have taken a liking to Joe because she let him do a few alterations to her cottage to make it a bit easier for her to get around.’

Neve’s head was beginning to swim. Maisie had been invaluable in helping her to settle in and be accepted by the community, but there was always the danger of going into information overload.

‘So his name’s Joe? The guy with the four-by-four?’

‘That’s right. Joe Lamont. He was going to call round to see you this evening, just to make contact, but I expect he’s missed you if you’ve only just got home. Did he leave a note?’

‘I don’t think so. Hold on, I’ll go and see.’ Neve scooted down the hall to the front door, treading on a piece of ice and feeling it melt through her thick woollen socks. ‘No, nothing here.’ Shivering, she hurried back to the warmth of the kitchen.

‘I’ll call him, then, and let him know you’ll be in contact.’

‘That’s okay, I’ll call him now…’ Neve found a pen and scribbled the number that Maisie recited onto the back of her hand.

‘You’re all right out there, are you? You know you can always stay with us.’

‘I’m fine. Thanks, Maisie, but I’ve got all I need.’ She had food, heat and plenty of candles. The farmhouse kitchen extended the full width of the back of the house, and was big enough to easily accommodate a table and chairs next to the cooking area, and a sofa bed at the far end by the old stone hearth. Right now, the sofa bed was the only thing she needed.

‘Okay. I’ll give you a call in the morning. Stay warm.’

A cup of tea, and then she’d call this guy and get some sleep. Neve filled the kettle and set it to boil on the stove.

The front door rattled, as if something heavy had struck it. Neve wondered if she should go and see what it was and decided against it. If that was the porch collapsing under the weight of snow on the roof, then tomorrow morning would be soon enough to find out.

Two more thumps and the muffled sound of a voice. Someone was outside. Neve picked up a candle and ventured into the hall.

Movement, and a flare of light ahead of her made her jump. Stupid, it was just the candle, reflected in the hall mirror. Perhaps it was the flickering light that made her look like something out of a horror movie, a chalk-white face with dark circles under the eyes. Neve grimaced at herself in the glass, swiping her free hand through her unruly blonde curls in an effort to make herself look vaguely presentable.

‘Who’s there?’

‘Joe Lamont. I’m looking for Dr Harrison.’

‘What…?’ Neve bit her tongue. There wasn’t much point in asking what he was doing out on a night like this if she was going to leave him standing on the doorstep. She pulled the door open, and a gust of freezing air blew the candle out, leaving her staring at a large, black shadow.

‘Come in. I was about to phone you.’

‘Thanks…’ The figure kicked his heavy boots against the doorstep, and stepped inside, pushing the door closed behind him. ‘Your doorbell isn’t working.’

‘No, the power’s off. Wait there a moment. I’ll just open the kitchen door to give us some light…’ Suddenly, a torch beam almost blinded her, and a gloved hand found hers.

‘Here. Take this.’

For a moment all Neve could register was his smell. Warm and clean, the kind of scent produced by the chemistry of soap and skin, rather than anything you got from a bottle. Then he put the torch into her hand, stepping back almost immediately, as if to give her some space.

‘Thanks.’ She had a strong temptation to shine the light in the direction of Joe’s outline, but Neve resisted it and turned, leading the way through the hallway. ‘Come through.’

She shut the kitchen door behind them, watching while Joe pulled his gloves off and unzipped his heavy jacket. He was tall, with what looked like broad shoulders, but that might just be the bulk of his clothing. In the torchlight, his cheekbones looked as sharp as knives.

‘Are you okay out here on your own?’

His voice was deep, with the trace of a Canadian accent along with a little of the cadence of the Yorkshire village he’d made his home. The kind of voice you’d want to hear if you were in trouble. Neve almost began to wish she was.

‘I’m fine, thanks. I have heat and light.’ She switched off the torch, and in the candlelight his features seemed to soften.

He looked around. ‘And food?’

‘Yes.’ Enough to keep her going for another day. ‘I’m making tea—would you like a cup?’

His gaze flicked quickly around the room, as if he was still unconvinced about something, then he nodded. ‘Thanks. That would be nice.’

‘Sit down.’ She waved him towards the table. ‘And why don’t you take your coat off? You’ll melt in here.’

He slung his coat over the back of a chair and sat, running one hand absently across the scarred oak tabletop, his fingers seeming to explore the grain. ‘You get hot water from the stove?’

‘Yes. The power goes out from time to time here, so I had an oil-fired stove put in.’ It appeared the questioning wasn’t over quite yet. That was okay, he could ask. Neve had made sure that she could deal with pretty much anything the world chose to throw at her, and she had the answers.

The touch of humour that twitched at the sides of his mouth suited him. ‘I guess I’ll just stop with the neighbourly concern, shall I?’

‘It’s appreciated. But not needed at the moment.’ She hid her smile behind the open door of the larder, reaching for the biscuit barrel and laying it on the table next to the teapot. ‘Help yourself.’

He took the mug of tea that she slid across the table towards him with a nod of acknowledgement. He seemed… tense wasn’t the word. He seemed watchful, taking in everything around him, as if he needed to keep an eye on the world to keep it spinning. Neve began to wish that she’d found the time to fold the sofa bed back up this morning. Hopefully, any stray underwear would go unnoticed in the candlelight.

‘You’re not from around here?’ His attention was fixed on Neve now and, before she could stop it, her hand flew to her hair to smooth it back. ‘The South somewhere?’

‘London.’

He nodded. ‘I must be improving. When I first came here, all I could hear was that everyone had British accents.’

‘And you’re from Canada…?’

His smile had the same sense of discipline about it as all his other movements did. Graceful, economical, and with a sense of purpose about it. And gorgeous.

‘Right in one. Most people reckon I’m from America.’

‘Actually, Maisie told me. I imagine you’ve got a lot more experience of driving in these conditions than me.’ Best get back to business. That smile, the relaxed, watchful curve of his body was distracting her.

‘A bit. It’s a little different at home…’

‘Snow’s snow, isn’t it?’

‘My Inupiak granny wouldn’t agree with you there. She lived on the ice when she was a child, and could write a book about different kinds of snow.’

That explained his striking looks. Raven-dark hair that grazed the collar of his thick sweater. Dark eyes and proud cheekbones. ‘So how did you end up in Yorkshire?’

‘My other grandmother came from around here. Her family went to Canada when she was a child, but she used to tell me stories about England. I decided to pay a visit and ended up staying.’ He looked at his tea, as if taking a second sip was yet another thing that required a thought-through decision. ‘It’s a good base to travel to Europe from.’

Neve would have thought that London would be better. But Joe didn’t seem the type to spend much time worrying about what other people thought. ‘You travel a lot?’

He shrugged. ‘A bit. I’ve seen most of Europe. Africa, Asia.’ He made a small, dismissive movement of his hand, as if this all meant nothing. ‘How long have you been here?’

‘Eighteen months.’

‘Love at first sight?’

‘Eh?’ Suddenly she was falling into the depths of his dark eyes. Not quite love at first sight, but there was definitely something about him…

‘You fell in love with this place. Like me.’

Nothing like that. Yorkshire had been somewhere to run to, and the most lovely thing about this particular location was that it was remote. ‘I’m growing to love it. Maisie’s been very good to me.’

He nodded. ‘She’s a force to be reckoned with, isn’t she? When she called me, asking for help, there was no saying no…’

‘But I thought… Aren’t you a volunteer?’

‘Seems I am now.’

Neve’s heart sank. ‘So Maisie talked you into this. Listen, if you don’t want—’

‘It’s okay. I was getting a little cabin crazy doing nothing at home, and I was looking for a way to help. Maisie just saved me some trouble.’ His dark gaze sought hers. ‘I have winter tyres fitted on my four-by-four, and they’ll cope with just about anything. And snow chains, in case we run into any trouble. You’ll be quite safe.’

‘I don’t doubt it.’ He didn’t need to reassure her. Maisie had vouched for him, and in any case there was something about Joe. If you were in the habit of trusting people on the basis of ten minutes’ conversation then he’d be the one to pick.

‘Maisie said you were covering the north side of the practice’s catchment area.’ He reached over and slid a map out of his jacket pocket, spreading it on the table. ‘Here…’ His finger described a loop.

‘Yes, that’s right. We’ve split the practice up into three, and each one of us is covering one section. We’re holding temporary surgeries in church halls and so on for people who find it difficult to get to the main surgery, and taking on all the visits for our own area. Cuts down on the travelling.’

‘I imagine you’re still pretty busy, though.’

‘Yeah. With only two weeks to go before Christmas…’ She shrugged. ‘Everyone seems to rush for the shops and the doctor’s surgery around now.’

He nodded, surveying the map thoughtfully. ‘You’ve drawn the short straw, this is some of the most difficult terrain in the area. Couldn’t you have asked to swap with a doctor with more local experience?’

Neve felt her spine stiffen. One of the reasons she’d come here was to escape being told what she could, and couldn’t, do.

‘We each took the area closest to where we live. I can handle it.’

‘I dare say you can.’ He flashed her a disarming smile. ‘What time do you want me tomorrow?’

Six o’clock, with a cup of fresh brewed coffee and a gently warmed croissant. The fantasy was inappropriate on almost every level she could think of, and Neve let it slide.

‘If nothing else urgent comes up, I’ll be starting in Leminster at nine tomorrow. I can drive over and meet you there…’

He shook his head. ‘I’ll pick you up at eight-thirty.’ He re-folded the map and stood up. ‘I’d better get going now. I’m on my way to the supermarket in town…’

‘At this time of night?’

‘I promised to pick some things up for someone. Can I get you anything?’ He gestured towards the large, well-scraped jar sitting on the kitchen worktop. ‘Some more peanut butter?’

He didn’t give up, did he? But she was going to have to stop off at the shops tomorrow if she didn’t ask for more supplies now. ‘Um… perhaps one or two things. If it’s no trouble.’

‘No trouble. Give me a list…’

CHAPTER TWO

A BOWL OF steaming porridge, a banana that had seen better days, coffee, toast and the last of the peanut butter would be enough to keep her going for the morning. By twenty past eight, Neve had tidied up and folded the sofa bed, and her deliberations about whether it was entirely wise to tidy her duvet away upstairs in the freezing bedroom were interrupted by the sound of a car outside in the lane. She dumped the duvet back onto the sofa and ventured into the hall, peering outside.

The trees were laden with snow after a fresh fall during the night. Clear blue skies, and sparkling white fields. The landscape had a kind of rugged beauty about it, an implicit challenge to either respect its rules or fall foul of them.

And talking about rugged beauty…

Joe had just got out of the driver’s seat of a black SUV. The high chassis and large wheels looked more than capable of tackling the rough terrain they were going to face today. He looked pretty capable, too. Tall and broad, standing for a moment to assess the sky and the road that twisted away into the distance, then shouldering a large canvas bag and turning towards her house. The gate was packed round with ice and snow and refused to budge, and he swung effortlessly over the low front wall.

It looked a bit eager, but she opened the front door anyway, not waiting for him to knock. ‘Hi. You made it…’

He shrugged, as if making it here hadn’t been in question. Kicked off his boots and strode into the kitchen, dumping the bag at her feet.

‘Hope this is what you wanted…’

Neve bent to look inside the bag. Every thing on her list and more. A hand of bananas, a bag of apples and a punnet of strawberries. She looked up at him silently.

‘I saw that your bowl was nearly empty.’ He gestured towards the one wizened apple in the fruit bowl.

The idea that Joe had been silently noting and assessing everything wasn’t particularly comfortable. ‘Thanks. That was thoughtful of you.’

‘You’re welcome.’ He fished in his pocket and brought out a note and some change, putting it down on the table.

‘Is that right? Surely you spent more than that?’

He shrugged. ‘I shopped around. And someone gave me the strawberries yesterday.’

Neve gave him a long, questioning look and then gave up. If Joe wanted to operate on a need-to-know basis, then so be it. She hurried to stow the non-perishables in the larder and then opened the back door, pulling a heavy-duty plastic box inside and putting it on the table.

He was quietly watching her every move, and Neve felt her brow crease with anxiety. That old feeling of having something to prove to someone. She thought she’d left that behind her when she’d turned onto the M1 motorway from London, and headed north.

‘Let me…’ She was struggling with the clips on the box, and before she could protest he’d spun the box towards him and knocked a lump of ice out from under the lid, wresting it open.

Inside, there was half a pint of milk and a carton of juice, both frozen into solid lumps. One of his eyebrows arched, and Neve felt her hackles rise in response to the unspoken question.

‘What…?’ She should probably just leave it. Neve tipped the remainder of the shopping into the box and clapped the lid back on, fastening it securely.

‘Nothing… If I’d realised you were so short of supplies, I could have brought a few more things in for you.’

‘I’m fine. I told you that last night.’ She heard herself snap at him and reminded herself that Joe was a volunteer, doing this out of the goodness of his heart, and that she ought to make an effort to get along with him. ‘Are we going to get going, then?’

‘As soon as you tell me where.’ A hint of emotion tugged at the corner of his perfect mouth.

Neve sat down at the kitchen table. Maybe she was overreacting. It wasn’t Joe’s fault that the quiver in the pit of her stomach whenever she saw him reminded her of all the promises she’d made to herself about never letting a man walk all over her again.

‘This is my list. We’re due in Leminster first and then whichever order is easiest in terms of the driving.’

‘Right.’ He pulled the map from his pocket, spreading it on the table, one finger tracing the pattern of the other addresses on the list. ‘So if we drive north from Leminster…’ He swept his finger across the map in a rough circle, indicating forty miles of driving through blocked roads and over sheets of ice.

‘That would be ideal. Can we make it?’

‘Let me worry about that.’ He picked up his gloves from the kitchen table and folded the map, his frame suddenly taut and eager. A glimmer in his eyes seemed to flash out a warning to the world that obstacles weren’t a problem, and only existed to be overcome.

She’d find out soon enough if Joe was as good as his word. Neve picked up one of the bags of medical supplies, which lay ready by the door, and Joe got to the second before she could. ‘Let’s go, then.’

She was silent as Joe drove along the winding, treacherous road into Leminster village. Wary of him maybe?

Joe dismissed the thought. Neve struck him as the kind of woman who wasn’t afraid of anything. When her blue eyes had flashed with stubborn resolve, all his senses had tingled painfully back to life, reminding him that once he’d lived for the kind of challenges she faced now. Her scent and the way she moved only added to the temptation. He dismissed those thoughts as well.

Joe had put himself on trial here. When he’d first come to the village he’d deliberately avoided anything that was even remotely connected with his former life, but now there was a need he could fulfil. If he could do this, without getting involved with the medical side of things, that would be a final step towards putting his old life behind him.

He drew up outside the church hall in Leminster. A surgery had been arranged for those who could make it here, and outside the new fallen snow was already churned and flattened by the passing of feet. Inside, the occasion appeared to have turned into an impromptu coffee morning.

From the relaxed smile on her face when Neve walked into the hall, one would never have guessed that she was probably counting faces, wondering whether she was going to be here all day. She walked briskly into the middle of the noisy throng and clapped her hands.

Silence. Joe allowed himself a smile. That was an achievement in itself.

‘Who’s here for me?’ She made it sound like a party, and that she was excited to see that so many people had turned up. Three-quarters of the hands in the room shot up, and she tried again.

‘One hand for each patient, please.’

Most of the hands went back down again, leaving six. She gave a dazzling smile in response and received a low rumble of approbation from the assembled company.

She had a nice way about her. In Joe’s experience, if you wanted to know about a doctor, you looked first at their patients. And if the faces here were anything to go by, Neve was one of the best. Her style might be a little different from his, a little more long-lost-relative and a little less here-comes-the-cavalry, but that was no bad thing. Joe reminded himself that he was here to drive, nothing more.

‘Who’s first?’ Someone pointed to Fred Hawkins, sitting in the corner of the room, and he reached for his walking stick.

‘That’s okay, Fred. Finish your tea, it’ll be a couple of minutes before I get settled.’ She flashed Joe a smile then turned to the church warden, who guided her away into one of the small rooms at the back of the hall.

Although the intention behind holding a surgery here had not been primarily to carry out a fact-finding mission regarding Joe Lamont, it did turn up a lot of information. Fred Hawkins confided that he was a ‘useful enough carpenter’ while Neve was trying to listen to his chest. Lisa Graham chattered about him incessantly as Neve examined a lump on her young son’s leg, and Ann Hawkins, headmistress of the local primary school and the wife of Fred’s second cousin, proffered the information that Joe had built an adventure playground for the school a few months back.

‘He was quite a talking point for a while…’ Ann winced as Neve removed the dressing from her swollen finger to reveal a cut.

‘Do you have any loss of sensation? Here?’ Neve worked gently along the main nerves.

‘No. It’s a real addition for us. The kids love it.’

‘Right. I’m going to put some adhesive stitches onto the cut and I’ll prescribe antibiotics, just to be on the safe side.’

Ann nodded. ‘Thanks. He doesn’t seem to have anyone. Not that some of the younger women haven’t tried. I had to have a word with one of our teaching assistants about staring out of the window all moony-eyed at him when she was supposed to be doing her job.’

Neve hid a grin. It appeared that Joe-itis wasn’t just confined to the teaching assistants. The school’s head teacher had been infected with the epidemic as well, along with what sounded like half the village.

‘So what exactly does he do?’ Neve’s curiosity about Joe had been growing, and she gave in to the inevitable. ‘His job, I mean.’

‘I heard he was ex-army.’ Ann pursed her lips thoughtfully. ‘I don’t know if that’s true. He doesn’t seem to have a job now. Unless of course he’s doing something on the internet in the evenings.’

Professional gambler? She imagined that Joe would have the perfect poker face if he put his mind to it. Writer? Internet entrepreneur? Combination of all three?

‘There were a few rumours going round, but they were just idle talk.’ Ann dismissed any further speculation with a disapproving twitch of her mouth. ‘But, then, people will wonder.’

True enough. The secret to keeping a secret was never to let a soul know that you had one. Neve had never told anyone about her marriage, and so the awkward questions about why it had been such a disaster never occurred to anyone.

‘Hold still, Ann. This will sting a little bit.’

Ann winced as Neve cleaned and disinfected the wound. ‘He wasn’t well, of course, when he first came here. You know his grandmother was born in Leminster? Fred remember her from way back, when he was just a boy. Says she was a pretty little thing.’

Perhaps that was why the village had taken Joe to their hearts. The prodigal son returned. But in Neve’s experience, any respect you got from the close-knit communities around here was generally earned and not just doled out on account of who your grandmother was.

‘Right, then, Ann.’ She handed her the prescription. ‘I want you to take these for a week. Can you get to the chemist today?’

‘Yes, no problem.’ Ann got to her feet. ‘I suppose you’re back on the road again now. You must be busy.’

‘Yes. It’s a lot easier with Joe doing the driving, though.’

‘Mmm. With the weather like this, you need someone to help you.’

By the time Neve had finished, Joe had been persuaded up a ladder to fix Christmas decorations to the high ceiling beams and had helped move the piano to make room for the Christmas tree. It was something of a relief to retrieve his coat and follow her back outside to the car.

‘What’s that you’ve got?’ She nodded at the plastic food container in his hand.

‘Chocolate cake. I said it was a bit early for me, so there are two large pieces here for later.’ He wondered whether she’d greet this latest offer of food with the same prickly indignation she’d shown that morning.

‘Oh, nice. I like chocolate cake.’ She had a particular flair for confounding his expectations, and Joe found himself smiling.

The first real obstacle of the day presented itself a mile down the road, in the shape of a white minibus. It was blocking the road ahead, almost invisible against the drifting snow, only the bright flash of a logo on its side clearly distinguishable.

Joe slowed and stopped. ‘Television crew.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘I heard they’ve been filming around Leminster. Community in crisis, that kind of thing.’

Neve was frowning at the vehicle. ‘Looks as if the community’s dealing with the crisis a bit better than they are.’

‘Yeah. Perhaps they can film themselves.’

The sound of a racing engine drifted towards them and the wheels of the minibus spun uselessly. Joe swung out of the car. ‘Hey. Hold up. That’s not going to get you anywhere…’ he called over to the driver and the engine stopped abruptly. One of the doors opened and a woman got out.

Joe knew what was needed, and it didn’t take much to persuade the woman to leave things to him. He trudged back to his own vehicle, nodding grimly at Neve and opening the tailgate.

‘What are we going to do?’ She scrambled out of her seat, almost losing her balance on a patch of ice and grabbing at him to steady herself.

‘Maybe you should stay in the car.’ Much as he liked her weight on his arm, it wasn’t going to get the van on its way.

‘What, and comb my hair? Check my make-up?’

Joe straightened up. However much he got snagged on her protective spikes, he still couldn’t help but smile at her. Maybe it was the vulnerability behind that tough exterior. Or the bravery that met everything head on. ‘If you use the rear-view mirror, don’t forget to adjust it back the way you found it.’

A moment of fleeting outrage and then she relaxed. ‘Sorry. It’s just that I’ve been managing on my own for a while now…’

‘I know.’

She leaned back against the car. ‘So what are you going to do?’

‘I should be able to dig them out. Might need to give them a tow but I hope not. It’ll take time to get the snow chains on the wheels to give me the extra traction.’

‘What’s that for?’ She pointed to the large bag of cat litter that he’d dumped in the snow beside them.

‘It’ll soak up the water around the wheels and give something for them to grip onto.’ Joe reached for the fold-up shovel that he’d stowed in the boot, snapping it open.

‘You have a cat?’ No detail was too small to escape her interest and Joe couldn’t help grinning.

‘Why would I have cat litter if I don’t have a cat?’ He picked up the bag and started to trudge back towards the stricken minibus.

‘Let me know if you need a hand,’ she called after him.

‘Sure. Let me know if you can’t find your comb.’

Neve remained where she was, leaning against the side of the SUV. Two men had got out of the minibus and Joe had set one of them to work with the shovel while he spread the cat litter around the wheels. The woman Joe had been talking to had left them to it and was headed in Neve’s direction.

‘I’m glad you guys turned up.’ She was grinning brightly. ‘Your friend seems to know what to do. What are you doing out today?’

‘I’m a doctor. I have house calls to make.’

‘Ah.’ The woman nodded enthusiastically. ‘And your partner?’ She gestured over towards Joe. ‘He’s a doctor too?’

‘He’s a volunteer. He’s helping with the driving.’

‘Nice one. As we’re stranded here, perhaps you could give me an interview.’ The woman didn’t wait for Neve’s answer and gestured over to the second man, who was standing by the stricken vehicle, watching Joe. ‘Camera, Nick…’

‘I don’t think we have time. We have to get on…’

‘Just for a minute. We won’t keep you.’

Neve bit back the temptation to say that the news crew was already keeping them, by dint of their minibus blocking the road. ‘I have patients…’

‘I promise we’ll be finished before you know it. Or you could go over there and pretend to help, if you prefer.’

No, she didn’t prefer. The last thing Neve wanted to do was to embarrass herself with Joe by pretending to help him for the cameras.

‘Joe…’ She marched over to the minibus, where he was now shovelling ice and snow from under the chassis. ‘We’ll be going soon, won’t we?’

He straightened, taking in the hastily assembled tripod and camera. ‘She’s asked you for an interview, hasn’t she?’

Neve shifted uncomfortably. ‘Yes. But I’ve told them there’s no time. We have to be on our way…’

He grinned. Joe was enjoying her discomfiture a little too much. ‘I’m afraid it’ll be a short while yet. And I don’t dig well with an audience. Perhaps you can keep them amused for a few minutes.’

‘Thanks a lot.’

He shrugged. ‘Thought you wanted to help.’

Not what she’d had in mind. Neve turned on her heel and walked back to the camera.

‘Ready?’ The woman smiled brightly at her. ‘Perhaps if you could take your hat off so we can see your face.’

She was going to have to do this. Neve stood on the spot the reporter indicated and removed her hat, smiling uneasily. The camera swept across the snow-covered hills and then homed in on her.

‘How are you coping in these difficult conditions? Are your patients going without the medical help they need?’

An image of Maisie on the phone, reassuring worried callers that the doctor would be able to see them, flashed through Neve’s mind. ‘No, we’re seeing everyone. We’re coping very well.’

‘But your resources must be strained to breaking point. How long can you go on like this?’

‘As long as we need to. We expect snow during the winter here, and we plan for it. It’s business as usual, and that’s not going to change.’ Neve tried to put all the gravitas of her profession behind the statement. Difficult when a blast of icy wind had just slapped the side of her face, almost taking her breath away and making her nose drip.

The sound of the minibus’s engine choking into life saved her. Joe was in the driver’s seat, gently rolling the vehicle forward and out of the patch of slush that its spinning wheels had produced.

‘Sorry. Got to go.’ Neve almost skipped over to where the empty cat-litter bag and the shovel lay, picked them up and carried them back to Joe’s car. Then she got in, shutting the door firmly. The news crew took one last shot of Joe walking back to the SUV, then there was a scramble to get the camera packed up and they were on their way, Joe following the minibus as it nosed its way along the narrow, snow-filled lane.

As soon as the road widened, he flashed his headlights and a brief, assertive blast of the horn signalled the driver of the minibus to pull over. Joe overtook it, and in a sudden show of bravado he put his foot down, a shower of powdery snow flying up from the wheels as they accelerated away.

‘Show-off.’

He chuckled. ‘You looked a bit put out by some of those questions.’

He’d noticed. No surprise there, Joe seemed to notice everything. ‘Well, really. What did they expect me to do? Go on TV saying that my patients will be lucky to get a visit this side of next week?’

‘I imagine that’s what they wanted to hear.’

‘Well, tough. I’ll make it through to everyone…’ It occurred to Neve that Joe had a part in that now. ‘I meant we.’

He gave her a melting grin. ‘Yeah. We’ll make it.’

After eleven hours, half of it spent huddled in the passenger seat of his car and the other half seeing her patients, Neve still shone. In Joe’s experience, that took some doing. When they drew up outside her house that evening, she heaved a deep sigh of contentment.

‘Look…’

He looked. Welcoming light glowed from the porch. ‘Your power’s back on?’

‘Yes.’ Her smile made it seem like the end of a perfect day, rather than the first piece of good luck that she hadn’t had to work hard for. ‘Will you come in for tea?’

The warmth of her rambling farmhouse kitchen. The warmth of her smile. In a past life, which seemed so distant now it was if it had all happened to someone else, Joe wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes.

‘No. Thanks, but I should get going. I’ll see you in the morning. Same time?’

‘Tomorrow’s Saturday. Aren’t you taking the weekend off?’

‘Are you?’

She shrugged. ‘Not this weekend. I’ll be off next weekend.’

‘Then I’ll see you in the morning. Eight-thirty.’

Her smile made the whole day worthwhile. ‘Shall we say nine? I think we both deserve a lie-in.’

‘Nine it is.’

‘Thanks for all you’ve done today, Joe. I really appreciate it.’

It had been his pleasure. Having her rely on him, bringing her safely home again had made Joe feel strong again. As if he’d flexed muscles that had been long under-used and had found, almost to his disbelief, that they had taken the strain. But he shouldn’t go too far.

He carried her bags up the path for her, setting them down on the doorstep and turning back, before the lure of refreshments got too great. Got into his SUV and waited until she was safely inside the house before he started the engine and drove away. Neve was just the kind of woman who could tempt a man into believing that he could be whatever he wanted to be. And in Joe’s experience, the one good thing about having found your breaking point was that you knew for sure that some things were out of reach.

CHAPTER THREE

‘HOW ARE WE going with the list?’

The list had been the overarching purpose of their lives for the last three days. How many people were on it and where they lived. It was a challenge and a reason for Neve to spend her days with him. Joe was getting to love the list.

However much he loved it, he didn’t get to spend a lot of quality time with it. While she let him get on with his side of things, assessing their route, driving and the odd spell of snow clearing, the list was Neve’s responsibility, and she seemed to function best when it was under her control.

‘Not bad. Just four more. We need to go up to Holcombe Crag, and there are three more between there and Leminster.’

‘Where first?’ Joe had no inclination to involve himself in the decisions about who needed her most urgently, and was always careful to let Neve set their priorities.

‘What do you think? I guess it would be better to go up to Holcombe Crag while it’s still light.’ She reached for the bag of toffees on the dashboard, offering him one, and when he shook his head she unwrapped one for herself.

‘Probably, but don’t worry about that. If the others need to be seen first…’

‘No, they’re all routine visits. They could wait until tomorrow morning if we don’t get time today, but Nancy Olsen’s got a young baby so I’d like to see her this afternoon.’

Joe nodded, and started the car. ‘Holcombe Crag it is, then.’

Neve had been watching the clouds draw across the sky as they approached the crag. ‘Are we going to make this? It looks as if the weather’s closing in.’

‘We’ll make it. There’s plenty of time to get up there and back before it gets dark— Is that your phone, or mine?’

‘Mine, I think.’ Neve unzipped her jacket and pulled her phone from the inside pocket, studying the small screen. ‘It’s a text from Maisie.’

‘Another house call?’

Neve shook her head and read from the screen. ‘“Local radio news. Car carrying father and young son found abandoned in your area this morning. Search under way. Keep your eyes open.”’

Neve texted a short acknowledgement back to Maisie and put her phone back into her pocket. ‘Anyone walking in this weather is going to be freezing.’

Joe nodded, his brow creased. ‘Hopefully they’ve been able to find some shelter. Shame they didn’t stay with the car.’

‘I hope they find them soon.’

‘Yeah. When we get to Holcombe Crag I’ll take a look around. Might get lucky.’

He turned off and took the track that climbed towards Holcombe Crag. At the best of times it was a steep hill to climb, but now the ice and snow seemed an impossible barrier. But Joe took it calmly and steadily, confident of what the vehicle could do and not asking the impossible from it. He drew up outside the single-storey, stone-built house, which clung to the slope three-quarters of the way up the crag.

‘If I walk up to the top, I’ll get a much better view.’ He’d extracted a pair of field glasses from the boot of his car, which seemed increasingly to Neve like an Aladdin’s cave of useful items. ‘How long will you be?’

‘I think Nancy would appreciate some a little extra time.’ Neve looked at her watch. ‘Shall we meet back here in half an hour?’

He nodded, dropping his car keys into her hand. Joe always carried her bags from the car, and this sudden break with what had become a small, comfortable ritual between them unsettled her. He must be worried.

She watched as he strode away from her. Strong, steadfast. However much she tried not to depend on him, however misguided it felt to allow any man to shape her fate, he was still becoming an indispensable support to her in this hostile landscape. She dismissed the thought and turned towards the house.

When Nancy opened the door, beckoning her inside, the smell of baking bread assailed her, and Neve’s mouth began to water. ‘Thanks for coming, Doctor. I’m so sorry to bring you all this way, but I’m worried about Daniel…’

Neve laid a reassuring hand on her arm. ‘I’d rather you called if you have any concerns at all. Let’s take a look at him.’

Neve was taking her time with each patient, aware that asking someone to pop back to the surgery if things got any worse wasn’t a viable option for most people at the moment. But after a careful examination, she found baby Daniel was suffering from no more than a slight cold. Neve reassured Nancy and allowed herself to be tempted into the kitchen for fresh-baked bread and strawberry jam.

‘Will you hold him while I put the kettle on?’ Nancy smiled down at her son, and he stretched his arms up towards her face, mimicking her expression.

‘I’ll make the tea.’ The bond between them was so precious, too beautiful to break, even for a moment. Neve couldn’t help feeling a little stab of envy.

‘That’s okay.’ Daniel gurgled with joy as Nancy planted a kiss on his forehead, before delivering him into Neve’s arms. ‘See you later, my sunshine…’

Daniel’s tiny fingers curled around hers when she tickled his palm and he looked up at her solemnly. Neve no longer had to steel herself to be around babies. The pain of her own loss had slowly given way to gnawing regret for what might have been, and when she smiled at Daniel and he rewarded her with one of his own, everything was suddenly right with the world.

‘Can you see Joe?’

Nancy leaned across the sink to get a better view out of the window. ‘No. He was at the top a few minutes ago, but he must be on his way back here now.’ Nancy turned, seeming to need the reassurance of checking once again that her own child was safe. ‘I can’t stop thinking about them out there. I hope someone finds them soon.’

‘Have you heard any search helicopters?’

‘Yes, I heard one go over about half an hour before you got here. I called Daryl when I heard about it on the radio and asked him to keep his eyes open.’

Word of mouth. Passed from wife to husband, friend to friend. Everyone in the area would be on the alert. ‘They’ll find them.’

Nancy grimaced. ‘I hope so. It’s snowing again and it’ll be dark soon.’

Neve’s phone rang, and she fished it out of her pocket one handed. ‘Yes?’

‘I see them. The man’s on his feet, and walking. I’m on my way to them now.’ Joe was breathing heavily, as if he was running.

‘Where are you? I’ll come out and meet you…’

‘No… Neve, listen. I need you to stay there…’

It wasn’t a matter of what Joe needed. ‘I’m a doctor. I can help these people…’

‘Which is why you need to organise things there. You can’t get to them before I do, and our first priority is to get them into the warmth. I’ll bring them to you…’

He was right. Neve didn’t like it very much, but this wasn’t the time to be squabbling over who did what. ‘Okay. We’ll get things ready to receive them here. Call me when you reach them and let me know what condition they’re in.’

A grunt of assent came down the line and then it cut off. Joe must be putting all his energy into getting to the man and his son.

‘What can I do?’ Nancy took little Daniel from Neve’s arms and put him into his baby bouncer.

‘We need somewhere warm to bring them.’

‘Okay, the sitting room’s best. I’ve got a fire going in there.’

‘That’s great. Have you got some spare blankets or a duvet we can use?’

‘Yes, of course. What about a hot bath?’

‘No, not until we see what condition they’re in.’ If the man and his son had been out for any length of time in these conditions, the boy could well be hypothermic, his smaller body less able to resist the freezing conditions than an adult’s. Warming him too quickly could cause shock or heart problems.

The smile on Nancy’s face told Neve that she knew nothing about that, just that the man and his son had been found. Neve hoped that her bright optimism turned out to be justified, and set about helping to warm blankets and fill hot-water bottles.

Just as the wait for Joe’s call was becoming intolerable, her phone rang again.

‘Joe…’

‘I’m with them. The boy’s shivering and drowsy but conscious. The man’s able to walk.’

Joe wasn’t wasting any words, but that was all she needed to know. If the boy was still shivering, then his small body hadn’t given up its fight to stay warm yet. ‘Okay, that’s good. Can you get back here with them?’

‘That’s the plan…’

‘Right. I want you to carry the boy. Be sure to do it carefully, Joe. You must avoid bumping him around any more than absolutely necessary. That’s important.’ Hopefully the boy wasn’t cold enough yet to make him susceptible to internal injuries, but without seeing him Neve couldn’t be sure.

‘Gotcha. I understand that precaution. I want you to do something for me.’

‘Yes…’ Anything.

‘We’re about a mile from you, in a westerly direction. I want you to turn my car and put the headlights on, full beam. Stay on the line, I can hear you through the earpiece. Do it now.’

‘Okay, on my way.’ Why did he want her to do that? It didn’t matter. Neve slung on her coat, grabbed the car keys and signalled to Nancy that she’d be five minutes.

She heaved a sigh of relief when the car started first time. Carefully she manoeuvred it until it was at right angles to the house, hoping that this was in approximately the right direction.

‘Joe… Joe…?’

‘I see you. Move about ten degrees to your right…’

She rolled the car forward and then back again, turning in the direction he’d told her, frantic tears forming in her eyes. She could see the reasoning behind this now. The storm that had been threatening was now right overhead, the light was beginning to fail and it was snowing heavily. Neve couldn’t see Joe, and it followed that he probably couldn’t see the house. The lights were a beacon for him.

‘How’s that?’

‘Good…’ His breath was coming fast now, and he must already be walking. Every step brought him nearer. ‘One more thing…’

‘Yes, Joe. I hear you.’ Neve wanted to stretch out and pull him back to her. If willpower alone could have done it, then he was already home and dry.

‘If we don’t make it back, I want you to stay where you are. You can’t find us in these conditions. All that will happen is you’ll get lost as well. Have you called the emergency services?’

‘Yes, I got on to Maisie. She’s liaising with them.’

‘Great. Sit tight and wait for them… We’re on our way, a mile out in the direction of the beam of the headlights. Have you got all that?’

She couldn’t answer. Couldn’t tell him that she’d just leave him out there if he didn’t return.

‘Have you got that, Neve? Say it…’

‘Got it, Joe.’ It wasn’t going to happen. It was only a mile. He could walk that, even in these conditions.

‘Good.’ Another pause, as Joe caught his breath. ‘See you soon.’

She wanted to tell him to come back to her, but she couldn’t find a way to say it. ‘Yeah. Very soon.’ She almost choked on the words. And then determination took over. ‘Stay on the line, Joe. I’m going to keep talking…’

‘Yeah… Good girl…’

‘Girl?’ She grinned desperately at her phone. ‘I’ll give you girl, Joe Lamont. You get back here now, and I’ll show you…’ Just how much of a woman she was.

‘Yes, ma’am…’

‘Shut up and walk…’

Nancy’s husband Daryl had been summoned from his workshop, which lay thirty feet to the rear of the house, but there was nothing that he could do, other than wait. Neve sent him inside with Nancy, asking them to stay by the phone and keep Maisie updated. She stayed in the car, talking to Joe, straining her eyes into the increasing gloom for any sign of him.

He was beginning to weaken. She could hear it in the few words that he managed to spare for her. His voice was shaking from the cold, and from the effort of walking through the snow. Neve looked at her watch. He must be close by now. Maybe if she went to the edge of the beam of the car headlamps, she’d see him.

Joe had told her to stay here. Ordered her to stay here, actually. And she’d obeyed him. When had that started to happen? The inevitable consequences of that particular slippery slope were suddenly forgotten. She caught her breath, staring into the swirling snow, and slowly the shapes of two men became visible. Joe’s jacket was wrapped around the bundle in his arms, which must be the child. A man stumbled alongside him, relying on him for both support and direction.

‘I see you, Joe…’

He didn’t reply. Just kept walking. Neve wrenched the car door open, stumbling towards Joe, vaguely aware that Daryl had appeared from the house and was running towards the small group. They both reached them at the same time and Daryl took the man’s arm, winding it around his shoulders and supporting him towards the house.

She took Joe’s arm, and he seemed to straighten, relieved of the burden of the man he’d been supporting. Something stopped Neve from taking the bundle from his arms. He’d carried the boy for a long, painful mile, and he deserved to be the one to bring him inside.

When Nancy ushered them into the hallway, Joe gave up his precious cargo, delivering the boy into Neve’s arms. ‘The boy… Charlie. Four years old… F-father… Michael.’

Neve felt Charlie moving fitfully against her. Quickly she looked around, assessing the situation as best she could. Joe’s waterproof trousers and heavy boots had kept his legs dry, but his sweater was wringing wet and he was shivering, from cold and exhaustion. Michael had a heavy coat on and seemed dry, but looked near to collapse.

‘Daryl, take Michael through to the sitting room. Nancy, will you help Joe, please? Get those wet clothes off him.’ Neve followed Daryl through, laying Charlie down on the blankets that were warming by the fire.

Carefully she stripped the boy of his coat and wellingtons. By some miracle, Charlie was dry. It was a hard-won miracle, though. His father must have carried him for miles to keep his legs dry in the snow, and Joe had wrapped his own coat around him to protect him from the snowstorm.

Daryl was helping Michael off with his coat and into a chair by the fireside. ‘Daryl, will you check that none of Michael’s clothes are wet, please? I’ll come and look at him in a minute.’

‘No… See to Charlie. Please…’ Michael’s agonised voice.

‘That’s what I’m doing, Michael. Stay where you are and rest now.’

Neve had already taken the things she’d need from her medical bag and they lay ready for her. Quickly she checked Charlie’s pulse and reactions. Good. Better than she’d hoped. The low-temperature thermometer read 32 degrees. Much better than she’d dared hope.

All the same, she followed the guidelines for a more severe case. Wrapping the baby hot-water bottles that Nancy had prepared, she placed them under his arms and at his groin. Then she wrapped Charlie’s body in the duvet, leaving his arms and legs free.

A tear squeezed from beneath Charlie’s closed eyelids, and Neve bent over him to hold him still and give him some comfort. ‘Okay, Charlie. You’re all right. Lie still for me, sweetheart.’

‘Dad…’ The little boy let out a whimper, which stretched into a moan.

‘Charlie…’ Michael’s voice came from behind her.

‘Your dad’s here, you can see him in a minute.’ Charlie’s eyes opened. Took their time focussing on her, but surely and steadily found her smile. ‘Hello, there, sweetie.’

‘Charlie… do what the doctor tells you, darling. Daddy’s here…’ Michael’s voice broke, as if he was crying.

‘He’s doing well, Michael. You did a good job, keeping him dry. He has mild hypothermia, but I’m warming him now and he should be fine.’ Neve allowed herself to hope that the worst was over.

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