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Outside, Georgie watched in amusement as Logan folded his long legs with difficulty into the passenger seat of her Mini. Even with the seat pushed back to its furthest position, he still looked cramped.
The last of the sun had disappeared from the sky when they set off from the hospital, the full moon the only light on the dark road.
‘The inn is a few miles out of Fort William,’ she explained. ‘At the foot of the mountains. All the climbers meet there to analyse the day’s climbing and plan their next climb. After that they relax with a pint or two and maybe some music.’
‘Does the inn have rooms?’
‘Yes, but it’s a holiday weekend, so I’m afraid it’s likely to be booked up. Loads of people travel up at this time of the year to climb the mountains. Some come from as far away as London, or Europe.’ The implication of what he was asking hit her. ‘Of course, you don’t have anywhere to stay, do you?’
‘’Fraid not. I didn’t expect to find myself here, let alone staying the night. I don’t even have a toothbrush with me. I assumed it would be easy enough to get a room somewhere.’
She hesitated. What she was about to suggest was making her feel like a teenager asking someone out on a first date, which was ridiculous. It was simply the polite thing to do. ‘Then you’ll just have to stay the night at our house. There’s plenty of space. And it will mean you and Kirk will get a chance to talk without interruptions.’
‘He’s staying with you?’
‘Actually, we’re staying with him. My mum’s there too and my daughter, but there’s still a room free.’
She glanced across at him. Even in the dark she could see his eyes drop to her left hand where she still wore her wedding ring.
‘And your husband? Did you leave him behind in Glasgow?’
‘I’m a widow,’ she said shortly, hearing the hitch in her voice. Saying the words still brought a lump to her throat.
‘I’m sorry,’ Logan said.
Silence stretched between them. This was the part when she usually got twenty questions. But thankfully Logan didn’t ask any more. Either he thought it was none of his business or he could tell from her voice that she didn’t want to talk about it.
‘Thanks for the offer of a room,’ he said finally, ‘but I couldn’t put you out. I’m used to making do wherever I can find a bed. I’m sure I can persuade the inn to squeeze me in somewhere. Even if it’s in a hut outside.’
Georgie shook her head. ‘Nope. Sorry. Highland hospitality won’t allow it. There is no way my mother would forgive me if I let you fend for yourself.’
‘If you’re sure—great. Thank you.’
‘That’s settled, then. I’ll phone Mum once I’ve dropped you and ask her to make up the spare room.’ Although Georgie kept her voice matter-of-fact, her heart was doing its little dance again.
‘Where do you call home?’ Georgie asked. ‘I can’t place your accent.’ Damn. Here she was doing the question thing again, just when she’d promised herself she wouldn’t. But she couldn’t help it—she was intensely curious about this enigmatic man.
‘People tell me I don’t really have an accent. Probably because I’ve travelled all over.’ A shadow crossed his face, to be replaced seconds later by an easy grin. ‘That tends to happen when you’re a regular with the army.’
‘But there must be somewhere you call home!’
‘I’ve rented a place in Glasgow for three months, simply because I didn’t fancy staying in a hotel for that long. It’s the first time in years that I’ve stayed for that amount of time in one place. So I guess it’s home for the time being.’
Georgie felt a pang of sympathy. Her dad had been in the army before he’d retired. She had hated being moved from pillar to post, never really having time to make friends or settle down before moving on. The first time she had ever had somewhere to call home had been when her father had taken early retirement and moved the family to Fort William where his parents had lived all their lives. The last few years of Georgie’s childhood had been spent somewhere settled and she had thrived. Since then, Georgie’s life had been rooted in Scotland and her family and she could think of nothing worse than not having a place to call home. If it hadn’t been for the support of family and friends after Ian had died, she’d never have been able to cope.
‘And your family?’
It was as if the shutters had come down. The atmosphere in the car turned decidedly cool.
‘The army is my family,’ he said briefly. His mouth curved in to a half-smile. ‘Anyway, I’d rather talk about you.’
Some pair they made. He didn’t want to talk about his life and she didn’t want to talk about hers.
However, she couldn’t help wondering what he wasn’t telling her.
The road was rising steeply but Georgie knew the West Coast like the back of her hands. She could almost have navigated them in her sleep. The mountains of Glencoe rose like cloaked giants on either side of the road. She never failed to feel the brooding loneliness of the place where the Campbells had massacred the MacDonalds.
‘Have you always climbed?’ Logan asked.
‘Since like for ever. My father took me out on the hills as soon as I could walk. If I got tired, he’d fling me like a rucksack on his back.’ Georgie smiled at the memory, before the familiar tug of grief pulled at her heart. Although her father had died four years ago, she still missed him. ‘I was brought up here. I’ve climbed every hill in Scotland, including the Munros, at least twice. I joined the mountain rescue team when I was eighteen. Unfortunately tourists and even experienced climbers constantly underestimate our mountains—especially how quickly the weather can change. I’ve even seen women set off in their high heels for a four-hour climb. And then they’re surprised when they twist their ankle and have to be rescued. I also volunteer as a rescue medic at the annual downhill cycle race that’s held in Fort William every year.’
‘But you live in Glasgow now?’
‘Yes. And have done for the last two and a half years. I’m not really part of the mountain rescue team any more. Today was unusual. I just happened to be hanging out at the clubhouse with Kirk when the call came through. The team was out on another call, so I said I would go.’ She took a shaky breath, remembering how she had frozen and the vertigo she’d experienced. It had never happened before, but this had been the first time she’d climbed since before Jess had been born. Just as well, then, that she was no longer part of the team.
Georgie felt Logan’s eyes on her and when she glanced his way he was looking thoughtful.
‘What’s the most difficult rescue you’ve been involved with?’
His question was unexpected and hit her right in the solar plexus. She couldn’t bear to think about the most difficult rescue. She had spent the last two and a half years trying not to think about it.
‘Georgie?’ Logan prompted. Her silence must have told him she didn’t want to talk about it. ‘It’s okay,’ he said ‘You don’t have to tell me. God knows, there’s stuff I don’t want to talk about.’
So she was right. There was a lot more to Logan Harris than met the eye. He puzzled her. On the one hand, he seemed to be a typical all-male action man—on the other, he had this surprising thoughtfulness. He had cared enough to go and see Jack, knowing the child would be frightened and anxious.
She didn’t know whether she was relieved or disappointed when the lights of the inn broke through the darkness.
‘We’re here. I’ll make the introductions and then get away and help Mum with the spare room.’ Right now all she wanted was to be away from this man’s searching eyes—and his questions.
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to at least ask about a room here? Maybe I’d be lucky.’
‘Honestly, there’s no problem. Whatever you prefer. If there isn’t space or you just change your mind about asking, Kirk will bring you back with him. Actually, come to think of it, he’ll probably insist on it. You can drive his car, otherwise, knowing my brother, he’ll be tempted to drive himself—even with one arm in plaster. And he drives like a madman at the best of times.’
‘Seems like you and your brother are one of a kind—you both enjoy putting your lives in danger,’ Logan said, and Georgie couldn’t tell whether it was approval or the opposite in his voice.
Little did he know that he had got it completely wrong. Kirk might still love pitting himself against the mountain, and she might have done once, but all she wanted these days was an easy life. A safe, uncomplicated life for her and Jess.
Inside, the inn was a cacophony of sound. Someone had brought out an accordion and Kirk had retrieved his fiddle from behind the bar and in his typical nothing-is-going to-stop-me-doing-what-I-want way had tucked the instrument under his plastered left arm while he played the strings with his right. When he spotted them he waved.
‘Trust Kirk not to miss a chance to play the fiddle.’ Georgie indicated her brother with a nod of her head. ‘He’ll be over as soon as he finishes the set.’
‘Hey, Red.’ A stocky man with a woollen hat rushed to their side. ‘I didn’t expect to see you here.’
Logan mouthed ‘Red?’ at her with a broad grin on his face. Georgie wished Rob and the rest would get over using the nickname they had given her when she’d been a teenager and had first started hanging out with them.
‘Rob, this is Dr Logan Harris. He wanted to meet you guys and to speak to Kirk in particular. I need to get home. Would you mind telling Kirk that Logan would like a word when he’s free? And tell him Logan will be staying the night at the house?’
‘Sure thing, Red. Hey, how’s that wee kiddie of yours? Kirk’s always telling us she’s the spitting image of Ian.’
‘Will you stop calling me Red?’ Georgie muttered in his ear, before straightening. ‘Jess is fine. Growing fast. I brought her in the other day, but I gather you were up some mountain—as usual. I’m away back to Glasgow tomorrow night, so you’ll have to wait until next time, I’m afraid.’
Once more she was conscious of Logan’s eyes on hers. Unable to help herself, she slid him a glance. He was looking at her wedding ring.
‘The guys will look after you. I’ll see you later, Logan,’ she said, and quickly made her escape.
As she drove home Georgie couldn’t stop thinking about Logan. He was coming to work at the Glasgow City Hospital! And he would be working in the same department as her too! Or would he? The chat about the doctor coming to set up the new service hadn’t been terribly specific as to where he’d be based, but he was bound to be in the department some of the time at least. For some crazy reason her heart started doing its little dance at the thought. Stop it! she told herself angrily. You don’t know the first thing about him. Except that he is sexy as hell. And not just mildly attractive either. More like blowing- your-socks-off, drop-dead gorgeous!
The realisation hit her like a ton of bricks. It was the first time she had even thought about another man, let alone found one attractive. A shock of guilt and dismay shot through her. How could she even think of another man when she had loved Ian so much? Eventually, sometime—in the year dot maybe—she would have to move on with her life. People had told her time would heal, that eventually her heart would mend, but she hadn’t believed them. If that meant forgetting about Ian, she didn’t know if she wanted her heart to heal. Forgetting about him, her first love, the father of her child, seemed so disloyal. What was she thinking? She could no more forget Ian than fly to the moon. But some easing of the pain that had almost crushed her had to be good.
She shook her head. All this turmoil just because she had met a man who made her pulse race. She didn’t even know if he was married. Someone as gorgeous as him was bound to be. Besides, the look in his eyes, the excitement, the thrill of danger. She had seen that look before. In Ian’s eyes.
Married or not, Georgie thought impatiently, Dr Logan Harris was not for her.
‘And you say you’re going to be working with this man?’ Mary asked as they made up the bed in the spare room. ‘What’s he like?’
Kirk had telephoned to say that the inn was full and Logan was taking up Georgie’s offer of a bed for the night.
‘Oh, you know. Tall,’ she replied evasively. Her mother was also always telling her it was time to move on. Georgie knew as soon as Mary saw Logan she’d start imagining all sorts of scenarios. All sorts of never-going-to-happen scenarios. ‘Anyway, you’ll meet him yourself. If not tonight, at breakfast tomorrow.’
‘And he’s an army doctor?’ Mary persisted. ‘What’s he going to be doing in Glasgow, then?’
‘Setting up a medical emergency retrieval service. He’s only there for three months—or so I understand.’
‘Is he young?’
‘Thirty-something at a guess. C’mon, Mum. I know what’s going through your mind. But forget it. He might be married for all I know. And, anyway, I don’t want a relationship with another man.’ She twisted her wedding ring. ‘I still miss Ian, Mum.’
This time she couldn’t help the catch in her voice. Her mother stopped what she was doing and came over and hugged her. ‘Ian would want you to move on with your life, you know. All he ever wanted was your happiness. You can’t mourn him for ever.’
‘I know that. I guess I’m just not ready yet. Besides…’
‘Go on,’ Mary prompted.
‘Besides, even if I were, I could never fall for someone who puts his life in danger on a daily basis. Not after what happened to Ian. If I do meet someone else, believe me, it’s going to be someone whose idea of a wild night is watching an action movie on the telly.’
‘I can’t imagine you being happy with that sort of man. You’ve always craved excitement.’
‘Honestly, Mum. I’ve had enough excitement to last me a lifetime. All I want now is to make a home for me and Jess. Somewhere secure for both of us.’ She looked at Mary, noticing, not for the first time, that her mother was getting old. Despite her protestations, Georgie could tell the arthritis in her left hip was getting worse. ‘It’s time we let you get back to your own life. You’ve put it on hold for long enough.’
‘That’s not what I meant when I said it’s time for you to get over your grief,’ Mary protested. ‘You know I love looking after Jess. It’s you I’m worried about.’
‘I couldn’t have managed these last two and a half years without you, you know that. But, as you say, it’s time I stood on my own two feet. And part of that means letting you get back to your home. You can’t tell me that you don’t miss it.’
‘A house—a place—is nothing compared to being with those you love when they need you. And you still need me. I’ll stay as long as you need me, mo ghràigh,’ her mother said quietly. ‘You know that, don’t you?’
When Georgie woke up the next morning she was astonished to find it was after eight. She had fallen into bed soon after they’d finished getting the spare room ready and had gone out like a light. Probably something to do with yesterday’s unaccustomed exercise.
Throwing the bedclothes aside, she sprang out of bed. Normally Jess would have woken her long before now, jumping on the bed or crawling in beside her for a story, but the house was ominously quiet. She rushed to Jess’s room. It was empty. Where was she? Mary was going out for the day and had obviously gone already, so Jess couldn’t be with her. Kirk would have left for the hospital ages ago. Georgie was beginning to panic. Could Jess have let herself out of the house? What if she had wandered into the street? Or to the stream that flowed near the house?
Heart in mouth, Georgie charged into the kitchen and stopped dead in her tracks. Jess was sitting at the table next to a bemused Logan, chatting away. In her panic Georgie had completely forgotten he had spent the night. She hadn’t heard him and Kirk come in.
Her daughter’s plump, toddler cheeks were flushed pink and her hair was a tangle of curls around her face. She looked, as usual, adorable. ‘Jess,’ Georgie breathed, almost dizzy with relief.
‘Mummy!’ Jess cried happily when she saw Georgie. ‘Uncle Logan’s been reading to me.’
Uncle Logan? Where had that come from? Jess was usually shy with strangers.
Amused, slightly stunned brown eyes found hers. ‘She toddled into the kitchen before Kirk left, wanting a story read to her, so I was happy to oblige. We enjoyed “The Enormous Crocodile” twice and before that we watched a DVD about some strange teddy bears with holes in their stomachs—um, let me see, three times, or was it four?’
Poor Logan. He obviously hadn’t a clue that there was nothing Jess liked more than undivided attention. And equally obviously he had never been confronted with the Teletubbies either!
‘You should have sent Jess in to me,’ she remonstrated softly, feeling slightly guilty. ‘I’m usually up by now. I don’t know how I managed to sleep through my alarm…’
‘Your mother wanted to wake you, but I said to let you sleep as long as possible.’
‘Oh! How long have you been up?’
‘Since six. Don’t worry, that’s my usual time.’ Logan grinned, his eyes creasing at the corners, and Georgie’s heart tumbled. His eyes travelled across her body and she blushed as she realised she was only wearing pyjama bottoms and a very skimpy top. Hastily, she retreated out of the kitchen.
‘I’ll just get dressed. Then I’ll make us some breakfast,’ she said over her shoulder.
‘Take your time, Jess and I have had porridge oats already,’ came the amused reply. ‘And I think there are still several books in Jess’s pile.’
After a hasty shower and a too-long dither over what to wear, Georgie settled on black jeans and a moss-green V-neck jersey before returning to the kitchen. Logan and Jess were still at the table looking at books, but Georgie was sure his eyes were beginning to glaze over. There was, after all, only so much of books for a three-year-old anyone, except a parent, could take. Thinking of which, she still didn’t know whether he was married and had children. Someone this comfortable with a three-year-old was bound to have his own. Dismayed at the stab of disappointment she felt at the thought, Georgie picked Jess up and squeezed her tight.
‘I think we’d better give Uncle Logan…’ she slid a pointed look in his direction ‘…a little break, don’t you?’
Jess was bubbling over with excitement ‘He’s been telling me about the ‘copter he flies and he says he’s going to work in your hospital, Mummy. Is that true? Can he live with us and Granny in Glasgow?’
‘Logan will want to stay in his own house, mo ghaol. Now, off you go and get dressed. Call me if you need help.’ The thought of Logan living with them was sending all sorts of unwanted fantasies fizzing around her brain.
Georgie placed her daughter back on her feet and gently prodded her in the direction of her bedroom. Jess, with a great show of reluctance, left them alone.
‘Speaking of which, where is the flat you’ve rented in Glasgow?’ Georgie asked politely.
‘On the Clyde, overlooking the river. It’s small but has everything I need. Down to the latest music system. It’s also handy for the hospital.’
‘And will your family be joining you?’ Georgie asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
As he quirked an eyebrow in her direction she added hastily, ‘You seem so comfortable with Jess I thought you must be used to kids.’ The words were out before she could stop them.
Logan grinned ruefully. ‘Nope. No wife. No nephews, no nieces. Or brothers or sisters.’
‘What, none at all? What about your parents?’ She was doing it again. Opening her mouth before she had engaged her brain.
Once again a strange look crossed Logan’s features.
‘They’re dead. When I was a kid,’ he said shortly.
Georgie could have bitten her tongue. She had gone in there with two big feet. How terrible to grow up without parents. It really was time she learned when to keep her mouth shut.
Before she could apologise, Logan held up a hand. ‘Would you mind if we changed the subject?’ Although his voice was light, there was a tightness around his mouth that told Georgie he was hurting.
Georgie switched on the kettle, glad that she had her back to him so that he wouldn’t see her confusion—or her pity. She knew instinctively that Logan would hate sympathy. But someone must have brought him up. An aunt perhaps? Grandparents? Why, then, the reference to the army being his family? She wanted to know more. She wanted to know everything about this man. And he wasn’t married. That shouldn’t make a difference to her but it did. She was burning with curiosity, but his expression made it clear that the subject was closed. At least for now.
‘Coffee?’ she asked.
Logan shook his head.
‘I think it’s time I went to the hospital to collect Jack. I’m sure he’s desperate to see his folks.’ He was no longer the smiling, relaxed man of earlier. His voice was stiff and his eyes hooded. It seemed her open curiosity had upset or annoyed him.
There was nothing for it but to call the taxi for him, and they waited for the few minutes it took to arrive in uncomfortable silence. When the taxi tooted its arrival, Logan stood and held out his hand. Still bewildered, Georgie shook it.
‘Please thank your mother for me—and Kirk. Tell him the information he gave me will be invaluable.’ Just then Jess appeared at the doorway, dressed in a bizarre combination of dress and shorts. Despite the tension in the room, Georgie had to smile. It was typical of her daughter. If she couldn’t choose what to wear, she simply wore everything she fancied.
Jess ran up to Logan and flung her arms around his legs.
‘Are you coming back?’ she asked, tilting her head up to read his expression.
Logan crouched down beside her, his face relaxing into a smile. ‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘But perhaps I’ll see you in Glasgow? I’ll certainly be seeing your mum there.’ He turned to Georgie, looking as if he was about to say something. But when the taxi gave another impatient toot of its horn, Logan sketched a wave and left them alone.
In the taxi, Logan sank back against the seat, his mind filled with images of Georgie. Her red curls, framing a delicate face; her impish smile that couldn’t quite disguise the sadness in her grey eyes. He thought about the lie he had told her. It was one he was used to telling when anyone asked, but it didn’t make him feel any better—although his parents might as well be dead. Over the years he had said it so often, sometimes he almost believed it. What was the alternative? Telling people that his mother had abandoned him to the care system when he was just two years old—younger than Jess. It had been bad enough when he’d been a child in school. His teachers had treated him differently when they’d known he was in care. They’d expected him to show behavioural problems—and so he had. He’d kept getting into trouble. Nothing too serious—a broken window, playing truant—but it had been enough to convince his teachers he had no future. If it hadn’t been for the army cadet programme one of his care workers had suggested, he probably would have lived up to everyone’s expectations and amounted to nothing. But the discipline of army life had suited him. He had buckled down at school and made something of his life. If his teachers knew he had made it through medical school, they wouldn’t believe it. He owed the army big-time.
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