Twins On Her Doorstep

A knock at the door…

Will change her life!

After the heartbreak of losing her husband and baby, GP Sophie Bradford donated her eggs hoping to bring happiness to another couple, instead. Then Dr. Finn Connelly arrives on her doorstep with his orphaned nieces—and her biological twin girls! Sophie had vowed never to risk creating another family, but Finn and her adorable little daughters start to melt the ice around her heart…

“The first three books of this series are engrossing and fast-paced and this story is no different. Really, right from the beginning, this story had me hooked….”

—Harlequin Junkie on Rescued by Her Mr. Right

“Ms. Roberts has delivered a really good read to open this series where the chemistry between this couple was intense; the romance was special…and the words the hero says to the heroine that shows how in love he is with her.”

—Harlequin Junkie on The Shy Nurse’s Rebel Doc

ALISON ROBERTS is a New Zealander, currently lucky enough to be living in the South of France. She is also lucky enough to write for the Mills & Boon Medical Romance line. A primary school teacher in a former life, she is now a qualified paramedic. She loves to travel and dance, drink champagne, and spend time with her daughter and her friends.

Also by Alison Roberts

A Life-Saving Reunion

The Surrogate’s Unexpected Miracle

Sleigh Ride with the Single Dad

The Shy Nurse’s Rebel Doc

Rescued by Her Mr Right

Their Newborn Baby Gift

Rescued Hearts miniseries

The Doctor’s Wife for Keeps

Twin Surprise for the Italian Doc

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Twins on Her Doorstep

Alison Roberts

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08967-8

TWINS ON HER DOORSTEP

© 2018 Alison Roberts

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

THIS ROAD WAS ENDLESS.

And winding.

It was also quite spectacular along this particular stretch, with surf crashing onto rocks at the bottom of tall cliffs, but Finn Connelly wasn’t interested in the view of the Cornish coastline any more than he had been in any of the sleepy villages he’d already driven through. The GPS told him that the one he was heading for, North Cove, was still about an hour away. Miles from anywhere.

And who knew? He might get there only to have to turn around and come straight back again. It wasn’t that he thought this was going to be the answer he was looking for, it just seemed like the right thing to do. But after this? He had no idea…

A glance in the rear-view mirror showed him that the children were sitting quietly in their car seats. They weren’t looking at the scenery, either, which was understandable, but they were so quiet and that was even more worrying than the fact that they’d barely eaten anything the last time they’d stopped on this road trip.

With every mile that passed, Finn’s doubts about the wisdom of what he was doing were increasing, to the point where his head was starting to ache now. There was the slight ethical problem with this plan as well, although that had been easy enough to push aside when he’d had this crazy idea in the first place. He’d want to know, if it were him at the end of this road, wouldn’t he? Even if it was going to change his life so dramatically?

‘You guys hungry yet?’ He turned his head briefly to smile at his passengers. ‘I’ve got apples. And crisps. And those little packets of raisins. You like raisins, don’t you?’

‘No.’

‘Are you thirsty?’

‘No.’

‘It’s getting colder, isn’t it?’ Finn knew he was on a losing streak but he had to keep talking. To try and make this seem a little more normal, perhaps, when it was anything but. He wasn’t hungry, either. It had been an effort to force down even half his sandwich when they’d stopped for lunch some time back. He’d actually felt slightly nauseated.

‘Look at those big, black clouds up there.’ Was he putting too much effort into trying to sound cheerful? ‘You girls warm enough?’

He risked another glance in the mirror to find four large brown eyes staring at him. How could three-year-olds look so suspicious? Maybe it was just wariness, he told himself. And who could blame them?

‘Ellie? Emma?’ He tried one more time. ‘You want me to stop and find your coats? Those pretty pink ones?’

Two small heads shook slowly in a negative response and Finn suppressed a sigh. It was becoming the standard reaction to being asked anything, wasn’t it? They didn’t want their coats. They didn’t want treats to eat. They didn’t want to be here, with him, and he understood that. This was confusing. Frightening, even. He might be their uncle but he’d only met them for the first time a couple of weeks ago so he was still virtually a stranger.

Guilt could get added to the worry and the doubts. It wasn’t a pleasant mix.

There was only one thing that these little girls wanted—the life they’d had until now. Their family. And he couldn’t give it to them.

Nobody could.

Was it the weather outside or the trauma of recent events that made him suddenly shiver?

‘I’ll put the heater on for a bit,’ he said.

‘Sophie…how are you, lovie? It’s a bit cold today, isn’t it? I think we’re in for some rain.’

‘I’m the one who’s supposed to be asking how you are, Mrs Redding.’ Sophie Bradford smiled. ‘I’m the doctor here.’

‘I know, love. But I always see your dad.’ Maureen Redding closed the door behind her. ‘I know you’ve been here for a few years now but I still think of you as that little girl with the wildly curly hair running past my place to get to school.’

Automatically, Sophie reached up to touch her hair. Those unmanageable corkscrew ringlets she’d been born with were currently saturated enough with product to enable them to be scraped back into a ponytail but she could feel the undulations on her scalp and she knew that, at any moment, a curl could rebel and spring free to make her look unkempt. Unprofessional, in fact. Amazingly, they were standing up to the stress of an unusually busy day and behaving perfectly, for now.

‘Dad’s still out on his house calls at the moment but he should be back soon. If you want to wait, he can probably squeeze you in.’ Sophie closed the screen where she’d just entered the notes on her last patient, clicked to bring up Maureen’s history but glanced up with concern a moment later as she heard her new arrival’s rasping breaths. ‘You’re a bit short of puff today, aren’t you?’

‘Aye…’ Maureen Redding sighed heavily as she eased her large frame onto the chair and placed her handbag on top of Sophie’s desk. ‘I’ve got the cold that’s been going around and, you know, it’s the same old story…’

‘I know.’ Sophie was on her feet. She’d seen enough on screen to know that Maureen’s visits were usually due to exacerbation of her chronic respiratory disease. ‘Let’s have a good look at you and see what’s happening with your oxygen levels and blood pressure. Did you walk up the hill to see us today?’

‘Oh, no… It’s hard enough getting to the corner shop for a pint of milk at the moment. Jim, next door, gave me a ride.’

‘That was kind of him.’

‘He needed to come in himself, to get his prescription for his heart pills. He’s going to wait for me, but I don’t want to keep him waiting too long, so I’m happy to see you, love. Everybody says that you’re a wonderful doctor.’

‘That’s good to know.’

‘He’ll be having a yarn with your mum, I expect. He said he hadn’t seen her at the markets for a while.’

‘Mmm… We’ve all been a bit busy.’

Sophie’s mother was the nurse in this family-run general practice but, given how full the waiting room had been the last time she’d set foot outside this consulting room, Judy Greene wouldn’t be stopping to chat with Jim or anyone else today.

She handed Maureen a handful of tissues as the older woman began coughing and warmed the disk of her stethoscope in the palm of her hand as she waited for the spasm to finish.

Then she paused, frowning. ‘Has that happened before?’

‘The blood? Oh, once or twice… Your dad says it’s usually a sign of infection.’

Antibiotics were likely to be needed, Sophie thought. And a short course of steroids for the inflammation in Maureen’s lungs. A trip to the nearest hospital for a chest X-ray might be called for if there was any indication that this could be pneumonia rather than simply bronchitis. And had any mention been made of having home oxygen available for episodes like this?

‘I saw your dad coming out of the pharmacy yesterday,’ Maureen said. ‘He’s looking a bit peaky, I thought.’

‘Oh?’ This might be the only general practice in this out-of-the-way Cornish fishing village, Sophie thought, but she wasn’t about to start discussing her father’s state of health with one of their patients. It was a close community but there had to be some boundaries.

‘It’s time he retired, isn’t it? I went to school with him so he has to be at least seventy-three.’

‘Thereabouts. And he will retire soon. When we’ve found someone suitable to join us. Now, stop talking for a moment, Maureen. I want to have a listen to your chest.’ Sophie had to concentrate on which lung fields were being affected by the fluid and inflammation. Despite the closed door, she could hear the faint wail of an unhappy child in the waiting area, which wasn’t helping.

Fifteen minutes later, she was holding the door open. The wailing had suddenly become a shriek that made Sophie wince.

‘Get Jim to take you straight to the pharmacy. He’ll be going there to fill his own prescription, I expect. Make another appointment in a couple of days, or sooner if you’re not feeling any better, but, if it gets any worse, call us straight away.’

‘I will… Ooh, look. There’s your dad.’ She sailed ahead of Sophie. ‘Yoo-hoo! Dr Greene? I wanted to have a wee word with you.’

Sophie’s father was crouching by a boy who was holding one arm across his chest with the other and glaring at the doctor. ‘Not now, Maureen. Sorry, but we’re a bit busy, as you can see.’ He looked up and Sophie could see the tense lines in his face relax just a little. ‘Ah… Could you take young Toby here through to the treatment room, Dr Bradford? He’s fallen off his skateboard and given himself a bit of a fracture. If you can splint it and make him comfortable, his mum can drive him to the hospital.’

‘I could call an ambulance.’ Judy Greene was behind the reception desk.

‘No need.’

Jack Greene got to his feet. Slowly. He did look peaky, Sophie realised. Maybe she’d just got used to how tired he always looked these days and hadn’t noticed that his colour wasn’t so great, either. So pale it was almost grey. He was pushing himself too hard. Working himself into an early grave?

‘But I want an ambulance,’ Toby sobbed. ‘With a siren.’

It was Sophie’s turn to crouch and be on eye level with the seven-year-old. ‘Toby…you’re a big boy now. You know that it’s important that an ambulance is only called for really serious emergencies, don’t you?’

‘But…but I’ve broke my arm. Again…’

‘I know.’ Sophie’s tone was full of sympathy. She flicked a swift glance up at her father, who gave a single nod.

‘Baselines are all good. Simple FOOSH.’

A fall on an outstretched hand. The sort that often happened when you fell off your skateboard or out of a tree, as young Toby already knew. He had broken his left wrist last year. This time it was his right. But, if his baselines were good, that meant there was no danger of losing hand function from a compromised blood supply or nerve damage. In any case, Sophie knew she could make him a lot more comfortable with a good splint and some paracetamol, and it would actually be quicker for his mother to take him to the nearest emergency department. Even if there was an ambulance available instantly, it was at least twenty minutes away. Thirty, if there was any traffic or the threatening storm broke.

‘I’m going to give you a lovely splint that will help your arm stay very still and not hurt so much.’

‘And I’m going to drive you to the hospital,’ his mum added firmly. ‘Otherwise, how are we going to get home? Daddy can’t just turn his boat around to come and get us, you know. And a taxi would cost the earth. About as much as that new game you want for your computer, I reckon, and which one of those would you rather have?’

Reluctantly, Toby followed Sophie, who sent an apologetic glance to people still waiting. Emergencies played havoc with queues but everybody knew that. Old Mr Dobson was getting to his feet.

‘I can come back tomorrow if I need to,’ he said. ‘It’s probably nothing a bit of cod liver oil can’t fix.’

Maureen and Jim were heading for the door, too, but Maureen paused to touch Jack Greene’s hand.

‘I just wanted to say that your Sophie’s a credit to you,’ she said. ‘We’re so lucky to have the next generation of wonderful doctors here in North Cove.’

‘Thanks, Maureen.’ But Jack didn’t smile as he gazed around the room. ‘Who’s next, then?’

There was a painful-looking nappy rash on a baby, an adult with a rash and a terrible headache that was probably the early signs of a dose of shingles. Another patient had chest pain and had to jump the queue, but it was easily resolved with a spray of medication. The twelve-lead ECG Sophie took was reassuringly normal as well.

‘It’s not a heart attack, Colin. You need to use your spray as soon as it happens next time, not wait for me to give it to you. You know it comes on when you start moving furniture around, don’t you?’

‘I don’t like using stuff unless I really need to. And I was right next door.’

‘Get those young lads of yours to do the heavy lifting from now on. And, if you start getting pain more often, or when you’re just sitting around, let me know. I’m also going to book you in for some more tests at the next cardiology clinic at the hospital.’

The door opened before Colin could touch the handle.

‘Sophie? Could you come, please? Now?’

Sophie’s heart sank. Her mother was a very experienced and calm nurse. She had never seen a look of fear in her eyes like this.

She raced into the adjoining room after her mother. Was her dad having a crisis with one of his patients? A cardiac arrest, maybe?

But Jack was alone in the room.

Slumped over his desk.

‘Dad?’ Sophie was by his side in an instant, her hand on his wrist. ‘Can you hear me? What’s happened?’

She could feel a pulse, thank goodness. A bit faint, maybe, but it was steady.

And her father responded with a groan as he pushed himself upright. ‘I’m fine,’ he growled. ‘Just a bit of a dizzy spell. Stop making a fuss.’

‘Did you eat lunch?’ Judy demanded.

‘Don’t move,’ Sophie ordered. ‘I’m going to take your blood pressure.’ She unbuttoned his cuff, pushed the shirt sleeve up and wrapped the cuff around his upper arm. ‘Any other symptoms? Are you feeling nauseated? Any chest pain?’

‘No. And no.’ Jack sighed. ‘And no, I didn’t have time for lunch. My house calls turned out to be a bit more complicated than usual.’

‘Your blood pressure’s a bit low,’ Sophie said, releasing the valve. ‘One ten over sixty. I’m not surprised you felt faint. Now, where’s your blood glucose kit?’

His blood glucose level was on the low side as well.

‘At least I haven’t got diabetes.’ Jack pushed his chair back. ‘Now, will you two let me get on with my work?’ He got to his feet but then closed his eyes and raised his hand to rub at his forehead.

‘Headache?’ Sophie was watching him intently. ‘Still dizzy?’

‘I just need a cup of tea. And a paracetamol. Go away, Soph. You’ve got patients waiting.’

‘We’re almost done. Mum, take him home, will you? Give him something to eat and make him rest. I’ll have a good look at him as soon as I get back.’

It was only a short walk through the car parking space at the back of the clinic to the gate in the fence that led to the house Sophie had grown up in. Hopefully nobody would notice because otherwise the whole village would be alarmed that there was something seriously wrong with their beloved GP. It was probably nothing more than the fact that he’d forgotten to eat, on top of being a bit run down, but the way that her father had agreed to the plan with minimal grouching was enough to make Sophie even more worried.

Something had to be done about reducing his work load. Soon.

Her last patient of the day had deliberately been given the final appointment because she’d known she couldn’t put a time limit on this one.

Shirley needed to talk as much as she needed any review on whether her medication was helping.

‘I’m still not sleeping properly. And I still burst into tears all over the place. It’s embarrassing. It happened in the supermarket the other day, when I saw the cans of baked beans.’ Shirley fished in her handbag for her handkerchief. ‘It’s was Bob’s favourite tea…baked beans on toast…with a poached egg on top…’

Sophie was sitting alongside her patient this time. It meant that she could give the hand she was holding a squeeze.

‘I know. It’s hard. So hard…’

Shirley sniffed and nodded. ‘I know you know, dear. That’s why it’s so good to talk to you. You had such a tough time after your Matthew passed away. We were all so worried about you, what with you losing the baby and all…’

Even after five years, the pain was still there, wasn’t it? Not crippling now, though. More like a simple sadness, but one that could still squeeze her heart hard enough to be painful sometimes. At least she’d become an expert in pushing it into a place that she rarely chose to visit.

‘I’m fine now,’ Sophie said gently. ‘I found the answer was to focus on the good things I did still have in my life. Like my family and friends. My work. Being lucky enough to live in such a beautiful place.’ She gave the older woman’s hand another squeeze. ‘You’ve got both your daughters nice and close. And all those gorgeous grandchildren of yours. Are you spending plenty of time with them?’

‘Oh, yes… They’re in and out every day, wanting Granny’s cake, but…but I just haven’t felt up to baking yet.’

‘They’ll be missing those cakes.’ Sophie smiled. ‘Everybody knows that no one can make a better chocolate cake than you can, Shirley. And you’ve got a new grandbaby due to arrive in…ooh…about six weeks, isn’t it? I saw Jenny for her check-up just a couple of days ago.’

‘Bob was so excited about this new baby.’ Shirley’s smile trembled. ‘He was sure it was going to be a boy, finally. And now he’ll never know…’ She blew her nose again. ‘I haven’t even finished the cardigan I started knitting weeks ago. I just can’t seem to focus.’

‘It’s only been a couple of months since you lost Bob,’ Sophie said gently. ‘It takes time to grieve.’ She got up to find her prescription pad. ‘I’m going to give you something to help you sleep. And, if you like, I can refer you to a grief counsellor?’

Shirley shook her head. ‘I feel better just coming to see you, dear.’ She got up from her chair. ‘You understand…’

Sophie went to see her out. That way, she could lock the front door to the clinic and there wouldn’t be any last-minute obstacles to getting home to see how her father was. Hopefully, he would be feeling a lot better after some hot food and having put his feet up for an hour or two. If not, she was going to be laying down the law about getting a thorough physical check-up from a specialist in Truro—the largest hospital in Cornwall. And reducing his hours here, which was probably the best she would be able to manage until they could find a locum.

Her heart sank like a stone when she noticed the unexpected arrival sitting in the waiting area.

A man who looked to be in his mid-thirties. A man who was good-looking enough for her gaze to snag for an extra heartbeat of time. Probably the father of the two children sitting beside him, she decided. Small girls who were wearing pink, puffy anoraks and little black ankle boots.

Shirley was fussing with the fastening on her umbrella as she headed to the door so she didn’t even notice the trio in the corner but Sophie gave them a second glance as she passed. There was something compelling about these people.

The man was definitely not a local, unless he’d just moved here, but the children looked vaguely familiar. No. She shook her head as she closed the door behind Shirley and flicked the lock. There were no identical twins in North Cove, she was quite sure about that. They had to be tourists, but she couldn’t turn around and tell them that an appointment was needed for afternoon surgeries at this clinic unless it was an emergency.

After all, there were children involved, and even the brief impression she’d already gained suggested that these little girls were subdued enough to be potentially unwell.