A Family This Christmas

Praise for Sue MacKay:

‘THE GIFT OF A CHILD by Sue MacKay is a deeply emotional, heart-rending story that will make you smile and make you cry. I truly recommend it—and don’t miss the second book: the story about Max.’

—HarlequinJunkie

‘What a great book. I loved it. I did not want it to end. This is one book not to miss.’

—GoodReads on

THE GIFT OF A CHILD

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dear Reader

Havelock is at the head of the Pelorus Sound in New Zealand’s Marlborough Sounds, just twenty minutes down the road from where I live. It’s known as the Green Mussel Capital of the World, for its locally grown mussels, and every year there is a mussel festival with bands, arts and crafts, and of course lots of mussels to eat. It is a vibrant small town and very focused on the sea.

When I was planning A FAMILY THIS CHRISTMAS Havelock seemed just the right place for Jenny and Cam to get together and work through their issues. Both of them have city backgrounds, and yet both find the lifestyle in this small place fits with what they want to give and receive in life. It’s a perfect place to bring up two small boys struggling with the departure of their mum.

I hope you enjoy reading Jenny and Cam’s story, and also enjoy learning about a little treasure at the top of the South Island.

I’d love to hear from you on sue.mackay56@yahoo.com

You can also drop by www.suemackay.co.nz to catch up on my latest releases and get a copy of the recipe of the month.

Cheers!

Sue

Table of Contents

Cover

Praise for Sue MacKay

Title Page

Dear Reader

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

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

‘WATCH OUT!’ THE SHOUT was followed by something like a muffled scream ricocheting through the air, lifting the hairs on the back of Cameron Roberts’s neck.

Then the clattering sound of what Cam swore was one of the twins’ skateboards hitting the pavement the wrong way up. His gut tightened, and his heart squeezed. What now? Was there no end to the trouble his boys could get into? They were only eight yet could kick up more messy problems than a team of rugby players out on the town after a hard game.

Already moving towards the front of his house, he dropped the hedge trimmer on the barbecue table on the way past. ‘Marcus? Andrew? You guys okay?’

‘Dad, hurry. She needs a doctor. I didn’t mean it. I promise. I’m sorry.’ Marcus appeared at the end of their drive, tears streaming down his worried little face.

Cam’s gut became a knot. What had Marcus done this time? And where was Andrew? Had something happened to him? That would explain the fear in Marcus’s cry. Except he’d said she needed a doctor. ‘What’s happened?’ He ruffled Marcus’s hair on the way past, begging the parenting gods to give him a break for once.

As usual those particular gods were on holiday if the sight before him was anything to go by. ‘One day, just one whole, disaster-free day, is all I ask for,’ he muttered under his breath as he reached the redhead lying in an awkward bundle on the pavement.

Her face was contorted in agony and the eyes she raised to him were darkened with that pain. Judging by the rapid rise and fall of her chest, her resp rate was raised. Blood smeared across her left elbow and down her arm, probably from scraping along the concrete.

Andrew stood, hopping from one foot to the other, his skateboard dangling from his hand as he stared down at the woman as though he couldn’t understand how she’d got there. A second skateboard lay upside down beside her. Marcus’s.

‘What happened?’ Cam repeated, as he dropped to his knees beside the woman. Swearing was forbidden in their house, and that went for out on the pavement too, but Cam came very close to breaking that rule right at this moment.

‘Dad, the lady’s hurt, but—’

‘We didn’t mean it. True.’ The wobble in Andrew’s voice as he finished Marcus’s sentence told Cam heaps.

The woman moved, groaned. ‘My ankle’s broken.’

Glancing down her leg, he noted one foot and ankle already swelling. Fracture or sprain? ‘We don’t know that for sure yet.’

‘I do.’ She sounded very certain. Not to mention angry.

Guess he couldn’t blame her for that. ‘I’m a doctor. Is it all right if I take a look and access the damage?’

Her eyes locked with his. Forest-green eyes, reminding him of long-ago summers spent walking in the hills. ‘The front edge of that boy’s board slammed directly into my talus. The pain was instant and excruciating. It’s broken.’

Talus, eh? Not ankle bone. Then she knew a medical thing or two. With a sinking stomach he studied the extended foot. She was also probably right about the fracture. Unless she’d twisted her ankle as she’d fallen. ‘I apologise for this. My sons tend to be over-exuberant about everything they do.’ Understatement of the year, but he wasn’t about to spill his guts and tell this woman that most days he struggled to cope with their antics. That was none of her business even if they were to blame for her current predicament.

Wow, she’s beautiful.

Where the hell had that come from? He glanced around, saw nothing out of the ordinary, no one speaking over his shoulder. He returned to looking at the woman, sucking in a groan of raw need. Despite the pain distorting her face, she was drop-dead stunning. Do the job and get her packed up and on the way to hospital. Do not think about anything else. This might be one stunning female but the point is she is a female and therefore nothing but trouble.

‘They were in a hurry,’ said the woman, easily distracting him. Then she shifted on her butt and gasped. Her knuckles whitened as she clenched her hands and waited for the pain to subside. Despite the situation her voice held a gentle lilt, in the way a Southlander spoke.

‘Scottish ancestry?’ Now, why had he asked that? None of his business, and nothing to do with this foot that needed to be eased out of a worn slip-on shoe.

‘Not a drop. Growing up at the bottom end of the country tends to mean we don’t speak like the rest of you kiwis.’

The roll of her ‘r’s tickled him, warmed him. He’d always been a sucker for women with accents. Yeah, and look where that had got him.

He instantly refocused on the rapidly swelling ankle. He shouldn’t need any reminders about beautiful women with sexy accents and how shallow they could turn out to be. ‘I’ll call the ambulance crew. They’ll have nitrous oxide on board for you to suck on while they remove your shoe.’ The knowing glint in her eyes told him she knew what nitrous oxide was. ‘Andrew, get my phone. Now.’

‘Yes, Dad.’

‘Marcus, bring the cushions from the couch out here for the lady.’

‘Yes, Dad. But we—’

‘Do as I say.’ His calm tone belied his anxiety for this woman and the annoyance that just for once his boys could’ve held back on arguing with him.

‘Very obedient,’ muttered the woman, as the boys disappeared inside the house.

You think? ‘Only because they know they’re in deep trouble right at this moment.’ Cam gently straightened her leg, making sure he didn’t jar that ankle. ‘I’m Cameron Roberts, by the way. A GP at the local medical centre. Make that the only GP at the centre.’

‘Jenny Bostock.’ Her full lips pressed flat, and the green of her eyes dimmed as she stared over his shoulder as though trying to focus on something other than her ankle. Her hair might’ve originally been tied back in that band now hanging down her back, but it must’ve sprung free when she’d gone tumbling down in a heap. Thick, red waves cascaded over her shoulders, down her back, even over one side of her face.

Resisting the urge to lift the hair back from her cheek wasn’t as easy as it should’ve been. But following up on that impulse could get him struck off the medical practitioners’ register, if not a slap across his face. ‘Are you visiting Havelock for the day or stopping on the way through?’ I am not being nosy, merely trying to distract you while I tend to this painful ankle.

Blinking, she refocused on him. ‘I crossed over on the ferry this morning and decided to take Queen Charlotte Drive instead of going direct to Blenheim. Then at Havelock I decided to take a walk along the main street before having lunch at that café beside the marina.’

‘My sons have put paid to that idea. I’m very sorry. They get a bit carried away at times.’ The only place she was going now was hospital.

‘Double trouble, eh?’ Those lips lifted into the semblance of a smile, surprising and warming him. The anger had abated. Hardly surprising given what she was coping with. She’d be focusing on dealing with the pain.

‘Forget that saying. Whoever made it up hadn’t had twins of their own. Try tenfold trouble.’ He grimaced, then dug deep for a smile of his own, the movement of his mouth a little strained. ‘But on the plus side I get ten times the love.’

‘They came skating out of nowhere. Don’t be too hard on them. For all I know, this could’ve been my fault. I was watching a boat heading out of the marina and not looking where I was going.’

‘You’re being kind. I’ve told them more times than I can count to be very careful of pedestrians. Not that we get many this end of town.’

‘They’re boys—of course they’re not going to listen to you.’

‘Don’t I know it.’ Time to lock those skateboards away till they learned to control their actions. ‘Any numbness?’ Cam asked, as he lightly tapped her foot. When she nodded he continued with, ‘Want to try and move your foot?’

‘Not really.’ But her lips flattened and her eyes took on a determined look.

He knew the moment she tried by the spike of pain in her eyes. ‘Stop. I’m sure you’re right about this not being a sprain.’

‘Here’s the phone.’ Andrew appeared on the other side of Jenny.

‘I got the cushions.’ His other boy scuttled along to join them, his arms laden with every cushion to be found in the house. Not many.

‘Place them behind the lady one at a time. Careful. Don’t bump her. You’ll hurt her some more.’ He wanted to growl at the boys, shout at them for being careless, but it seemed he did too much of that these days. His goal at the moment was to refrain from being a grump all the time. Maybe they’d learn from this accident without him reading them the riot act or banning the boards. They got so much fun out of skateboarding he hated to take that from them.

Jenny directed the placing of the cushions, talking softly to the boys like this happened to her every day. They lapped it up, tossing him a look that suggested he should be taking heed and learning something from this.

Standing up, Cam direct-dialled the volunteer ambulance chief. ‘Hey, Braden, you’re needed outside my gate. Lady with a suspected broken ankle needs pain relief and transport to Wairau.’

‘Wairau?’ Thick eyebrows rose as those forest eyes focused on him from down on the pavement.

His knees clicked as he hunched down again. ‘Hospital in Blenheim. You need an X-ray and an orthopaedic surgeon’s take on what that shows up.’

‘There goes my catwalk career.’ Was that a twinkle through the pain in her eyes?

Catwalk? Yep, come to think of it, those long, slim legs filling his view were made for modelling. Thinking’s not always wise, said his brain, while his eyes cruised the length of her. The rest of her body was A1 too, topped off with that glorious hair and a face that could tempt a eunuch. Which you pretty much are these days, boyo. Given the chance, Jenny Bostock could certainly change his mind on avoiding the female half of the population. So don’t give her a chance. He straightened up again, putting space between them. Hell, he was up and down like a yoyo.

Time to get practical. ‘I presume you’ve got a car parked up somewhere around here. It can go in my garage until you’re ready to drive again.’ It was the least he could do, considering who’d had put her out of action.

Her fingers slid into the hip pocket of snug-fitting, mid-thigh-length shorts and tugged a key ring free. ‘Red sports car, registration HGH 345, parked outside the woodcarver’s.’

He nearly missed the keys as his gaze remained fixed on that hip. Catching them at the last moment, her words finally registered. Sports car, yeah, right. ‘You’re very trusting.’ Which probably meant the vehicle was an old bomb in need of lots of repairs.

‘Dr Cameron Roberts, Havelock GP. Shouldn’t be too hard to track down. Anyway, I’m lying outside his front gate: 5C Rose Street.’

Far too observant. Just then he heard a siren. ‘They’re turning it on for you.’

‘All ambos like to play with their bells and whistles, don’t they? But I admit I’ll be glad of that nitrous oxide. This is doing my head in.’ A grimace tightened her mouth. She’d run out of smiles. Those bewitching eyes looked plain old tired now. Her attention to him and the boys had all been for show, something to take her mind off what was really happening.

‘Should’ve asked you this sooner. Is there someone I can call for you? Get them to meet you at the hospital?’

Those eyes went blank as she withdrew completely. ‘No, thanks.’

‘You’ll need to be picked up after the medical team has put you back together.’

‘I’ll sort it.’ She looked away, but not before he saw desolation glittering out at the world. Then, ‘Hi, guys. You come to get me? I hope you’ve brought lots of painkillers.’

Braden and his sidekick, Lyn, jogged over with a stretcher, a cardboard splint, their medical kit and the tank of gas Jenny was longing for.

Cam said, ‘Hi, guys. Meet Jenny Bostock.’ Guilt assailed him again, this time brought on by that desolation she was busy trying to hide, and knowing if it hadn’t been for his sons she wouldn’t be in whatever predicament she now found herself.

‘Dad, can we go to the shops?’

‘We saw Mum get out of a car at the end of the road.’

His heart crashed. They’d seen their mother? There was more likelihood of pigs flying by. Would this ever stop? As if it wasn’t enough that they’d broken this woman’s ankle, they thought they’d seen their selfish mother. When would the boys accept that that particular woman had no intention of ever returning? Even if she deigned to drop by because she’d had a rush of oxygen to the brain, she certainly would not want two eight-year-olds interfering with her career plans.

‘There isn’t time. You’re meant to be at the softball juniors’ Christmas party in an hour and you still have to clean your faces and put on decent clothes.’

The disappointment blinking out at him from two almost identical faces hurt as much as that broken ankle was hurting Jenny. Better he give it to them straight than have them walking up and down the short main street peering into every shop and café, looking for someone who was hundreds of k’s away in the North Island. He hated having to be the big bad ogre breaking their hearts by telling them that when it was their mother who’d caused their anguish.

He looked away, his gaze encountering Jenny’s as she drew in deep breaths of gas. This time he couldn’t read the expression in those green eyes at all. He didn’t try to guess because he wouldn’t be seeing her again. Whatever she was thinking didn’t matter.

Braden said, ‘We’ll be off as soon as we’ve got a splint on this here leg and loaded Jenny in the ambulance. You going to happy hour at the pub tonight?’

The fundraiser for the school swimming pool maintenance. ‘That depends on what time the boys’ Christmas do finishes and we get back here.’ He and the kids had become experts at socialising, being invited to just about every celebration happening in Havelock. Anything from a cat’s birthday to the theatre group’s finishing night was an excuse to have fun around here. Which was fine, except when someone took it into their head to arrange a function in Blenheim, a thirty-minute drive away. Not far except when appointments were stacking up or, like at this time of year, there were too many social engagements to attend.

‘Might see you later.’ Braden and Lyn shifted their patient onto the stretcher and rolled her across to the ambulance.

Cam followed, unable to walk away. ‘I hope all goes well for you at Wairau, Jenny. And once again, I’m sorry for my boys’ actions.’

Removing the gas inhaler from her mouth, she gave a semblance of a smile. ‘Accidents happen all the time. I should’ve been looking where I was going.’

This woman was very quick to forgive. Not many people would’ve said that. A genuine, good-hearted lady? Or was the laughing gas mellowing that despair that had been glittering out from those suck-him-in eyes?

Watching the ambulance pull away and head towards the intersection, he felt a tug of longing he hadn’t felt in years. Longing for what? Something about Jenny’s bravery had caused it, made him feel he should be following in his car, going to the ED with her. Holding her hand? Yeah, right. Holding a beautiful woman’s hand was so not on his agenda. He shrugged. Couldn’t deny feeling responsible for her.

If there’d been someone with her, or even meeting her at the other end, he wouldn’t be thinking like this. But it sounded like she was alone. So when she came out of hospital, where would she go? How would she get there? She hadn’t been carrying a bag, wasn’t wearing a jacket with pockets to hold money or credit cards. Or a phone. Just the keys she’d handed him to the car he had to retrieve and park at home. He swore, once, softly. He was going to have to deliver her bag to her.

He spied the boys carrying the cushions up the drive, flicking him worried looks from under their too-long hair, having obviously heard his bad language but not willing to tell him off as they normally did. At least they’d got the seriousness of the situation. He sighed. Time to get moving if they weren’t to be late for the party.

Oh, and note to self: arrange for two haircuts at the hair salon on Monday afternoon after school.

CHAPTER TWO

JENNY STARED AROUND the ED and shivered. ‘I want out of here. Like now.’

Not going to happen. The ED specialist had told her what she’d already suspected—that he was waiting for an orthopaedic surgeon to come in and look at her X-rays, and who knew when that would be. Apparently the surgeon had been out fishing on Queen Charlotte Sound when the ED staff had eventually got hold of him.

Waiting patiently wasn’t her forte any more. And waiting in an ED was cruel. There’d been a time she’d loved nothing more than turning up for her shift in the emergency department. She’d thrived on the heightened anticipation brought on when waiting for the unknown to come through the doors, and by helping put people back together after some disaster had befallen them. ‘Yeah, well, you turned out to be useless at that, didn’t you?’

The ED was full to overflowing. The adjacent cubicle wasn’t completely curtained off, leaving her open to scrutiny from a blue-eyed toddler with curls to die for. A young man lay on the bed in obvious pain, after apparently coming off his farm bike and being pinned underneath for an hour until his wife had found him. The injuries couldn’t be life-threatening or he’d be in Theatre already.

‘Up.’ A very imperious tone for someone so young.

‘No, Emma, leave the lady alone.’ The child’s mother snatched her out of reach to plonk her on a chair by the man’s bed. ‘I’m sorry about that,’ said the harried woman.

‘No problem.’ Jenny dredged up a smile and watched as the little girl clambered off the chair the moment her mother’s attention left her.

‘You all right there?’ asked a chirpy trainee nurse from the other side of Jenny’s bed. Too happy for her own good. ‘Anything I can get you?’

Didn’t they teach nursing students not to tease their patients? ‘I’d kill for a strong coffee right about now.’

‘Nil by mouth, I’m sorry. At least until after Mr McNamara has seen you, and then only if you’re not having surgery.’

‘I totally get it. It’s called wishful thinking.’ Talk about getting more than her share of apologies today. Cameron Roberts had looked and sounded more than apologetic, with tiredness and stress blinking out at her from those coffee-brown eyes peeking from under a mass of wayward blond curls. Bet those gorgeous twins were more than a handful. Trouble and twins were synonymous. She had first-hand experience of that.

The nurse smoothed the already smooth bedcover. ‘If you want anything, call me. There are some magazines lying around somewhere but they’re years out of date.’

‘I’m fine.’ She could pretend, couldn’t she?

‘Great.’ The student flashed another smile and went to charm another patient, leaving her in relative peace to contemplate her situation. Which was looking rather dire.

Stuck. That’s what she was. Stopped in her tracks, all because of a boy on an out-of-control skateboard. He’d wrecked everything. Like she’d slammed into a brick wall and there was no way round. She’d wanted to yell at those boys, tell them they should’ve been looking where they were going, not shouting and taunting each other to go faster. She did remember turning to see what the noise was about seconds before the boy—Marcus?—had crashed into her. But in all reality she’d been miles away, unaware of much except that boat heading out and the sun on her face.

The boys had looked so repentant. They’d also appeared as if they’d had enough of being told off and wanted to be given a break. She totally knew what that was like. How many times had she and Alison driven Mum insane with their mischief? Cameron Roberts hadn’t known she knew what she was talking about. ‘Bet I could teach those boys a thing or two about being naughty.’

Then an image of Cam’s tired and frustrated expression slipped into her mind and she retracted that thought. The man didn’t need any more problems.

‘Emma? What’s the matter, baby?’ In the next cubicle the mother’s panic was immediately apparent. ‘Why’s she gone so red? Emma. She’s not breathing.’

Jenny swung her legs over the side of the bed, ground her teeth on the flare of pain. ‘I’m a doctor. Pass her here.’ One look at the child’s terrified face, which only minutes ago had been grinning at her, had Jenny reaching back to slam her hand against the emergency button on the wall behind her bed. ‘What was she playing with?’

‘I’m not sure. Cotton balls, I think.’

Grabbing the child from the distraught mother’s arms, Jenny ran a finger around the inside of her mouth, scooped out sodden cotton balls. Had the child swallowed any? ‘Does Emma have any allergies that you know of?’ she demanded.

‘No.’

Emma definitely wasn’t breathing. Instantly laying the child over her knees with her head hanging down, Jenny began striking the child firmly between the shoulder blades with the flat of her hand. Strike one. Two. Come on, baby. Breathe for me. Three. Please. Four. Please, please, please. Five. Where are the doctors? Check the resp rate. The tiny chest wasn’t moving at all.