More Than A Gift

With the highs and lows of emotion he’d gone through in one evening, it was hardly surprising that he was exhausted, she thought, as she hurried into her clothes.

Unable to bear the thought of leaving without some sort of farewell, she grabbed an empty envelope from the wastepaper basket beside his desk to pen a brief note.

Her heart was so full of all the things she wanted to say that knowing where to begin was hard. In the end, all she could do was stick to the two most important points.

“I love you. I’ll miss you,” she wrote, unhappy to discover that she’d already started crying when a tear splashed onto the words.

She didn’t dare look back at him as she tried to prop the note somewhere he would find it as soon as he woke. Then there was no more time to lose….

Dear Reader,

Lauren, in the first book of this duet, More Than Caring, has grown self-sufficient because she has no family to rely on. Laurel, by comparison, is being smothered by a family who seems to criticize her every move. Small wonder that she keeps her thoughts and feelings to herself.

Sometimes it’s as if her much-loved nursing career is the only thing that maintains her sanity, and as for her growing relationship with Dmitri…

Then her life takes a sinister turn, and with more than her own survival at stake, she has to leave him without ever telling him how much she cares.

Suddenly she is on her own again in a race against time, trying to decide which is more important—her unknown twin or the man she loves.

I hope you enjoy unraveling her secrets.

Josie

More than a Gift

Josie Metcalfe

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

COVER

Dear Reader

TITLE PAGE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

COPYRIGHT

CHAPTER ONE

‘I DID it,’ Laurel breathed jubilantly, finally allowing her tense shoulders to slump with relief. ‘I got away again.’

It felt as if she’d been driving for hours with her eyes glued to the rear-view mirror, her dread increasing with every big black car that appeared behind her.

Desperate to get as far away as possible, she’d pushed on until darkness had begun to fall and even then had barely dared to stop long enough to visit the Ladies’ room. Perhaps it had been the failing light or the worsening weather or maybe her ploy of hiding her car among the enormous trucks that had put whoever was tailing her off the scent. She’d probably never know, but she was grateful for any piece of good luck that gave her the chance to get to the end of this journey.

After more than a year of searching she’d finally felt that she was on the right track, but she wouldn’t really know until she reached Edenthwaite.

‘Not that I know whether I’m even going in the right direction,’ she muttered with a scowl, peering out through the windscreen at the worsening visibility.

The narrow road she was following suddenly twisted into another series of bends and she tightened her grip on the steering-wheel.

It would have been far easier and faster if she’d been able to stay on the motorway for another half-hour or so, especially with the first spits of rain misting the windows, but she hadn’t dared. To have come so close to the hospital where Lauren worked only to be stopped before she could meet her…well, it didn’t bear thinking about. It would mean that everything she’d suffered through her miserable childhood had been a waste of time, especially now that she knew why her father…

‘No! He’s not my father!’ she spat angrily, still incensed by the pretence she’d unwittingly been living all her life.

All those years of wondering why she was so unlovable that he’d barely spared her a word unless it had been to criticise and demean. All those years of trying so hard to turn herself into the daughter he wanted her to be, a daughter he would approve of.

Even now, a year after the revelation, she could hardly credit the simple series of events that had finally exposed the deception.

It had been sheer fluke that she’d seen the letter addressed to her before it had been taken through to his study with the rest of the mail. She had no doubt, now, that the contents would have been destroyed if he had seen them first. Then she would never have discovered that she’d been adopted, or that there was another—

‘Damn!’ she exclaimed, her rambling thoughts brought to an abrupt end as the back end of the car slewed without warning, the wheels spinning frantically for several seconds before they regained traction.

Careful to keep her foot well away from both brake and accelerator, she allowed the car to slow naturally, her hands shaking as she tentatively straightened the wheels. Surely the temperature hadn’t dropped enough, yet, for black ice to have started to form on the road.

She risked a quick glance at her watch and did some mental calculations, immeasurably relieved when she realised that she must be little more than five or so miles from Edenthwaite now.

Tentatively, she pressed on the accelerator again, reassured by the tyres’ renewed grip on the road. She should arrive safely long before the weather became a real problem, even if it was dark by the time she reached her destination.

She’d only travelled another mile when the dark car swung around the bend in front of her, travelling far too fast for the road conditions. Almost in slow motion, Laurel saw the moment when the driver lost control, his headlights veering towards the unforgiving stone wall at the side of the road. The tyres squealed and she held her breath as he tried to steer the heavy vehicle out of the skid. For just a second she thought he’d been successful, only to realise that he was now heading straight towards her.

Reflexively, she twisted the wheel, her only thought to avoid the impending crash.

Suddenly everything was happening too fast for her to register each individual event. She had an impression of hands frantically turning the steering-wheel in the other car, eyes and mouth open in matching horror, her own car striking the limestone wall a glancing blow as the black car screeched its way along her paintwork.

Then the black car disappeared from her sight as her car began to spin. It seemed as if she was whirling around for ever, going faster and faster as she travelled down the slope of the hill. The headlights picked out a wildly spinning kaleidoscope of images right up till she broadsided the wall for a second time, then all she could see was the dark arc of the sky as the car toppled onto its side, crashing through the top of the wall and down into the field below.

‘OhGod, OhGod, OhGod,’ Laurel heard herself whimpering when everything finally stopped moving and she realised she was still alive.

It took her a moment to catch her breath and realise that she was virtually suspended from her seat belt, hanging almost completely upside down. Even so, something made her grab hold of the steering-wheel to drag herself close enough to switch off the engine.

It was awkward to reach, especially as she had to be careful not to cause any further damage with the restricting seat belt.

‘Was that the right thing to do?’ she whispered into the sudden silence, curving her hands protectively around herself. One half of her brain was telling her that it was the best way to minimise the risk of fire. She didn’t yet know how long it was going to take to clamber out of her awkward position. Having survived the crash, she certainly didn’t want to burn to death. There was more than her own life at stake here.

It wasn’t until she realised how completely dark it was outside now that she wondered if she might have made a mistake.

Without the engine switched on, she couldn’t have any of the lights on, so no one would be able to see her.

‘Especially with the car tucked behind the wall like this,’ she muttered as she craned her neck to try to look around.

The car gave a metallic groan as it shifted in response to her movement and she froze, suddenly aware that while she knew there was a wall close to one side of the car she had absolutely no idea what lay the other side.

Long-ago geography lessons flashed into her mind and she actually remembered drawing diagrams to explain the way glaciation had shaped the scenery around Edenthwaite.

‘Flat-bottomed, U-shaped valleys with steep sides,’ she whispered, the illustrations clear in her head. She groaned when she remembered looking at the map that morning as she’d planned the fastest route north. She’d seen the switchback wriggles of the smaller side roads as they fought their way up out of one valley and over the rocky limestone tops before plunging in an equally dizzying drop into the next.

Depending which bit of road she was on when that car had headed straight for her, the scene outside her window could be a flat valley floor, a limestone pavement at a thousand or more feet up, or any point in between.

‘Well, whatever’s out there, I can’t stay here all night,’ she declared firmly. ‘It would be one thing to stay with the car if I’d broken down at the side of the road, but if I just hang around in here, I might still be waiting for help when Christmas comes.’ She gave a wry chuckle at her unintentional pun. ‘Hanging around…like a bauble on a Christmas tree.’

She stretched out one hand to reach for the release mechanism for her belt, needing to relieve the pressure across her body. She was going to have some bruises but at least the belt had prevented her from sustaining a broken neck.

‘And how about you?’ she murmured softly, still cradling the swell of her belly with her other hand while she tried to work out how to release the seat belt. ‘I bet you’re glad you were cushioned by all that amniotic fluid.’

As if in answer, a tiny limb gave her hand a resounding thump.

Laurel smiled as she circled the spot with her fingertips. ‘All right. It shouldn’t be long before I get us out of here…although what difference it will make to you, I don’t know. You seem to have spent the last few months turning somersaults, so hanging upside down is no novelty.’

Frustrated with her lack of success with the belt, she twisted to get her other hand close enough to help and the car shuddered again, this time almost feeling as if it had shifted a little way along the ground.

Laurel froze again with her heart in her mouth. For several endless seconds she held her breath, only releasing it when all stayed still and quiet.

Only it wasn’t quite quiet. There was a strange new ticking sound, now that she concentrated. It wasn’t the sound of the engine cooling down, or the regular metallic sort of sound that a clock would make. It was far softer and more random against the window beside her.

It took her several moments to track the source down, and the answer sent a shiver down her spine.

‘It’s started snowing!’ she whimpered.

She’d thought it too dark outside to see anything but as she stared in disbelief at the swirling flickers of brightness that had begun to land on the window beside her head, she knew she’d been wrong.

So far, most of it seemed to be whirling around in the air. There was little more than a sprinkle settling on the ground or over the vehicle, but that could change all too quickly.

‘Please…no! Don’t do this to me!’ she moaned.

Her situation had been bad enough before. If it carried on snowing, it would become impossible.

She shivered as she forced herself to take an inventory.

‘For a start, it’s getting colder,’ she stated aloud, knowing that it wasn’t just because she didn’t dare risk running the car heater. ‘And if it keeps snowing, not only will it cover the car, but it’ll cover up any signs of where I went off the road, so no one will know where to look.’

Another sound interrupted her, so unexpected that it took her several seconds to realise what it was.

‘A car!’ she shrieked when her brain finally put all the clues together. ‘There’s a car coming!’

She wriggled forward, trying to reach far enough to sound the horn. It was easier to see what she was aiming for now, as the approaching headlights reflected off the walls on either side of the road to spill into the topsy-turvy compartment.

A sudden flash of light swept across her as the headlights poured through the gateway further along the wall and caught her mirror just as she found the horn.

The sight of the dark silhouette behind the lights was just ominous enough to make her hesitate and the opportunity was lost.

‘You stupid woman,’ she railed as the vehicle swept on by without a pause. ‘So what if it was them? At least you’d have some hope of getting out of here alive.’

For a moment she felt utterly helpless and had to fight the threat of tears. Was this what it had all come to? That unhappy childhood and the steadily increasing desperation of her teenage years when she’d actually begun to believe that her mind was unbalanced. Then the revelations in that letter and her determination to find out if they were true.

She’d come so close. In fact, she was almost certain that Lauren Scott was the one person who would be willing to fill in the missing pieces of the puzzle. Lauren, who lived about five miles away from this very spot and might as well have been five thousand for all the good it did.

A swift kick just under her ribs broke into her dismal train of thoughts with a jolt, and a second one was enough to stiffen her resolve.

‘You’re right,’ she muttered with new determination. ‘I’ve come this far and I’m not giving up now. After all, I’ve got you to think about.’

She snatched a shallow breath, anything deeper being impossible while hanging in this position, and twisted towards the seat-belt release, resolved not to let it beat her this time.

She’d completely forgotten about the way the car rocked when she moved too quickly, and this time freezing in position when the metal panels groaned wasn’t enough. With a lurch and a shudder she felt the vehicle shift towards the unknown blackness outside, the momentum growing as it began to roll.

‘No!’ she screamed, helplessly trying to brace herself against the movement, even though she knew she was powerless to prevent it happening.

With the unearthly groaning and crashing going on all around her, the car rolled from its side to its roof and almost onto the other side while Laurel was tossed as helplessly as a puppet on a string.

She was utterly convinced that the next revolution would take her over the edge of an escarpment to her death in the valley far below, but then her head swung into the frame of the door beside her and everything went black.

Dmitri glared out at the snow swirling across the road in front of him and swore out loud.

‘That’s all I needed,’ he groaned, deliberately reverting to English. He tried reminding himself that there would be a great deal more snow than this in his native country, but it didn’t help his temper.

‘If only I’d done something about it as soon as I saw her car,’ he muttered. ‘Now, who knows which road she’s taken. It could be months before I get that close again.’

Hearing the words aloud made him pause.

Months?

Was he really willing to put his life on hold while he searched the length and breadth of the country to track the wretched woman down again? It had taken him two weeks just to track down which hospital she’d been working at last, and it had taken all the charm he’d been able to muster to persuade one of her neighbours to remember that she’d mentioned a possible Christmas break in Cumbria.

He couldn’t imagine the magnitude of the coincidence that had put the two of them on the same motorway at exactly the same time…and then he’d lost her again.

So, he had a decision to make. He had another two weeks before he had to make a decision about the date of his return to work in Russia, two weeks that he could spend visiting Babushka Ana and getting his life in order, or he could spend it trying to complete his search for Laurel.

He’d come so close this afternoon that he could almost have reached out and touched her car. If he hadn’t decided to bide his time…

But did he really want to spend two precious weeks chasing down a woman who’d left him without a backward glance? Shouldn’t he go back to Babushka Ana as soon as possible? She’d been so frail last time he’d seen her. Who knew how long she had left?

Not that she knew who he was half the time, but still…she had been the one constant in his life for so many years that he couldn’t help the guilt when he thought of her days passing endlessly without family to visit her.

But if a few more days or weeks meant finding out what had happened to Laurel, why she’d disappeared like that…

As ever, her image was clear in his mind—the long, softly curling hair that made him think of Christmas angels, the sweetly expressive face and those fascinating amber eyes. It had been the hidden shadows in those eyes that had first caught his attention a year ago when he’d joined the staff at the hospital where she’d just been finishing her training.

Not that she’d done anything to attract his attention. Far from it.

In fact, it had taken him several weeks of concerted effort before he’d realised that, far from downplaying her beauty, she’d actually been totally oblivious to it.

He still marvelled at her innocence, and the unexpectedly passionate way she’d responded to him, even as he railed at the way she’d suddenly disappeared from the hospital and his life, apparently uncaring of the fact that they had an ongoing relationship.

It was that relationship and, yes, he wasn’t too proud to admit it, a measure of injured ego that had prompted him to spend this time trying to find out why she’d left.

But was he willing to spend more weeks tracking Laurel down? The heat that poured through him when he remembered the way she’d responded to his kisses gave him his answer. Yes, he was, even if he gained no more than the satisfaction of finding out why she’d run away.

The heat became the slow burn of anger and determination that had prompted him to plan his final quest during the last days of his job in England, and had accompanied him throughout his search. Then the car wheels gave a sudden slew sideways and he had to drag his concentration back to the road. He wouldn’t be in a fit state to search for anyone if he were trapped in a heap of crumpled metal at the side of the road.

‘How much further is it to this place?’ he muttered, not even daring to glance at the map he’d left open on the passenger seat beside him. ‘What was it called? Something that made me think of the Garden of Eden.’

He pulled a face at the dimly perceived scenery through which he was passing. It had looked quite spectacular until the light had faded and the snow had started falling. Now it looked far from idyllic, just somewhere on the road to…Edenthwaite! That was it! Although why Laurel wanted to go there was way beyond him.

He’d been so sure that she’d been enjoying her work as a newly qualified nurse, and enjoying the relationship they’d been forging together. Obviously, he’d been wrong or she wouldn’t have left like that, without even a word to…

‘What was that?’ He took his foot off the pedal and peered towards the ragged top of the stone wall beside him and the metallic flash that had caught his eye.

As it receded in his rear-view mirror he realised that someone must have crashed into it at some time because the flash had been a reflection from broken shards of glass or a mirror.

‘Thank goodness it didn’t happen tonight,’ he murmured when he noted the lack of tyre tracks in the layer of snow beginning to gather across the road and on the limestone blocks that made up the bordering walls. ‘I pity anyone who crashes up here tonight. If the snow keeps falling like this, it could be days before anyone finds them.’

With new caution in each movement, he allowed the car to pick up a bit of speed again. There was no point loitering in the middle of nowhere in this weather when he could be booking into the hotel in Edenthwaite.

‘I’ll make some phone calls tonight to find out where she’s staying. If she was making for Edenthwaite, it’s probably because she’s hoping to get a job in the hospital, or she’s about to take up a post there. By tomorrow, I should be able to start asking some questions,’ he said firmly. ‘There must be some reason why she’s been moving about so much—some reason why she was heading in this particular direction—and I’m going to find out what it is.’

Then, perhaps, he’d be able to go back to Russia with a clear conscience. At least he wouldn’t be left with the nagging feeling that he should have tried just a little harder to find the woman who was never very far from his mind.

‘Where are all the cars when I need them?’ Laurel groaned, her eyes fixed on the cock-eyed view in the mirror. At least she wasn’t totally upside down any more. The car seemed to be on its side.

The cold had seeped into the car slowly at first but there was no heat left at all now. She was shivering all the time, and her head was aching after the collision with the door frame. She had no idea how long she’d been unconscious but her brain was still functioning well enough to appreciate the irony of the situation.

‘After all this time of keeping a low profile and making sure I don’t do anything to draw attention to myself,’ she groaned. How many times had she caught sight of her pursuer and known that it had been time to move on yet again? It must be four or five times since she’d read that letter and realised the significance of it.

Not that she had realised the full significance until she’d made a few enquiries. The whole thing had seemed utterly fantastic…totally unbelievable…until she’d taken a chance and had barged into the lawyer’s office without the courtesy of an appointment and had demanded some straight answers.

‘I’m a twin,’ she whispered, feeling the smile spread over her chilly face again, the delight growing with each repetition. ‘She’s somewhere out there—in Edenthwaite, perhaps—and when I find her, I’ll finally be able to get the answers to fill in all the rest of the pieces to the puzzle.’

And there were so many questions, more with every day that had passed since she’d read that fateful letter.

Her mother’s letter.

Her real mother.

She had a copy of it with her now, sewn into the lining of her coat, but for safekeeping had lodged the original and the will and birth certificates that had accompanied it with her mother’s solicitor until she completed her search.

She didn’t need to see the faded script on the first page to recall the heartbroken words, apparently written just hours after she’d given birth and had had to watch her precious babies being taken away for others to nurture into adulthood.

The first time she’d read the letter, she’d been shocked, then overwhelmed with anger at the deception that had shaped her life. It had taken her several months before she’d been able to find sympathy in her heart for the mother who had abandoned her then deliberately distanced herself from any contact.

Laurel closed her eyes against the hot prick of tears, cradling her hands over the swell of her own child. It hadn’t been until she’d realised that she was pregnant and had felt that instant flood of maternal love that she’d been able to understand how a mother would do anything to make sure her child was taken care of, even give her up for adoption.