Snowbound: Miracle Marriage

‘Nothing slips my mind. I just didn’t think you’d be interested.’ Calmly, Patrick checked the monitor. ‘What bloods have you taken?’

‘U&Es, FBC, cross-match, BMG, coagulation screen, rhesus and antibody status and Kleihauer—why? Did I miss something?’

‘No.’ Ignoring the snap in his brother’s tone, Patrick winked at the patient. ‘Now he’ll be unbearable.’

Fiona shifted the oxygen mask slightly. ‘Twins, both of you doctors.’ She sounded amazed. ‘One of you is an emergency specialist and one of you is an obstetrician?’

‘That’s right. My brother is the emergency specialist.’ Patrick looked at Daniel. ‘The work suits his personality. Quick and dirty. All superficial, no depth or emotion.’

Daniel’s firm mouth flickered into a smile. ‘That’s how I prefer it.’

While they bantered, the two brothers worked together seamlessly, exchanging information, conducting tests. Then Patrick moved to the side of the trolley and put his hand on Fiona’s shoulder.

‘Fiona, I think there could be some concealed bleeding behind your uterus.’ He spoke gently, knowing that the news he was giving wasn’t going to be well received. ‘At the moment everything is fine and I’m not going to interfere, but I want to transfer you to the labour ward, just to be safe. We can monitor you there and if we need to intervene, we can.’

Fiona shifted on the trolley. ‘What’s causing the bleeding?’

‘It’s possible that a small part of the placenta has come away from the uterus—we call it an abruption. I want to keep you in hospital for now, see how things develop.’

Fiona swallowed. ‘And if it gets worse?’

‘Then I will deliver your baby.’

‘But the baby isn’t due until January.’ Panic drove her voice up a pitch. ‘I have another six weeks to go.’

‘All the indications are that the baby is fine,’ Patrick said calmly. ‘And thirty-four weeks is early, that’s true, but not so early that I’d be worried. We have an excellent special care baby unit here—we call it the SCBU—but at thirty-four weeks your baby might not need any extra help. Let’s see how you go. My plan is to keep him inside you as long as possible.’

Fiona’s face crumpled and she started to cry again. ‘But this wasn’t my plan. I’ve been reading all the books—I’ve gone to all the classes—I know exactly how I want my labour to be.’

Stella picked up a box of tissues, about to intervene, but Patrick took Fiona’s hand in his. ‘It’s hard when things don’t go according to plan,’ he said gruffly. ‘I really understand that. It happened with Posy, my youngest, and it shook me up. Nightmare. Nature has a way of keeping us all on our toes, but all that really matters is that the baby is safe, Fiona. Remember that.’

‘Babies can die if they’re premature.’

‘There is no evidence that your baby is in trouble. And from now on I’m going to be watching you.’ Patrick pulled a couple of tissues from the box Stella was holding and handed them to Fiona. ‘Once you have kids, life rarely goes according to plan. Chaos is part of the fun. Or that’s what I tell myself when I’m tripping over children, kittens and unwrapped Christmas presents.’

Stella felt a lump in her throat. Tripping over children, kittens and unwrapped Christmas presents sounded like paradise to her. ‘Is there anyone else I can call for you, Fiona?’ Stella yanked her mind back from its fruitless journey towards a dead end. ‘Your husband is just having a few stitches in his head and then I’ll bring him to wherever you are.’

‘I keep thinking that this is all my fault. Perhaps I shouldn’t have worn the seat belt—’

‘Wearing a seat belt is the right thing to do,’ Daniel said firmly. ‘Contrary to popular opinion, wearing a seat belt does lower the risk of serious injury. Fiona, just relax and trust us. Patrick will make whatever decision needs to be made and it will be the right one, believe me.’

Patrick lifted his eyebrow. ‘You’re saying I’m always right?’

Despite her tears, Fiona gave a choked laugh. ‘Are they always like this?’

‘No, sometimes they’re really bad,’ Stella said cheerfully, squeezing Fiona’s hand. ‘I’ll come with you up to the ward. Then I’ll go and check on your husband. He must be worried sick.’

‘He feels horribly guilty, but it wasn’t his fault. The roads are lethal.’

‘I’ll go and see him as soon as we’ve settled you upstairs,’ Stella assured her. ‘Is there anyone else I can call?’

Fiona closed her eyes. ‘My mum? No, not my mum. You’ll just worry her. No one for the time being. But thanks. You’ve all been really kind.’

‘Let’s get you upstairs.’ Patrick moved the trolley towards the door and Daniel’s gaze settled on his face.

‘I want to talk to you.’

Patrick smiled. ‘I bet you do. But I’m busy, so it’s going to have to wait.’

Daniel strode down the corridor, his tension levels in the danger zone after six hours of working shoulder to shoulder with Stella. Six hours of torture. At one point she’d leaned forward to pass him an instrument and he’d detected the faint smell of roses. Knowing that it was the shampoo she always used had set up a chain reaction in his brain. Thinking about the shampoo had made him think about her hair, long and loose. And thinking about her hair long and loose had made him think about her in his bed. And thinking about her in his bed had—

Daniel ruthlessly deleted that thought from his mind, but it immediately popped back again, taunting and teasing his senses until he gave a low growl of frustration, oblivious to the pretty nurse who gazed at him as she hurried past.

Without slackening his stride, he took the six flights of stairs up to the obstetric unit, too impatient to wait for the lift.

Nodding briefly to a consultant he knew, he made straight for his brother’s office and pushed open the door.

‘You knew Stella was coming back and you didn’t tell me?’

Patrick leaned back in his chair and lifted an eyebrow. ‘Next time, knock. I could have had a naked woman in here.’

Daniel planted his hands on the edge of his brother’s desk, struggling with his temper. ‘Damn it, Patrick—just how long have you been communicating with my ex-girlfriend?’

Patrick closed the file he’d been reading. ‘Your ex-fiancée,’ he said with gentle emphasis, ‘and I’ve been “communicating” with her since you unceremoniously dumped her. On Christmas Eve. Not exactly the present she’d been hoping for, I’m sure.’

Daniel felt a sudden rush of cold. ‘Why are you bringing that up now? That’s history.’

‘If it’s history, why are you standing in my office threatening me?’

Daniel dragged his hand through his hair. ‘I didn’t dump her. She dumped me.’

Patrick stood up abruptly, impatience making his eye flash a deep blue. ‘After you told her you wouldn’t marry her.’

‘Not wouldn’t—couldn’t. It isn’t that I don’t want to get married,’ Daniel said hoarsely, ‘I do. But I can’t. I just can’t do it. I would make a lousy husband and a terrible father and I won’t do that to a child.’ Sweat tingled on his brow as he thought of how close he’d come to breaking his promise to himself. Only Stella could have driven him to that. ‘I can’t be what she wants me to be. I did it for her.’

‘Funny. She didn’t appear that grateful last time I looked.’

‘She should be grateful. Better to let her down now than in five years’ time.’ Or at least, that’s what he’d told himself when he’d driven the scalpel through her heart.

Trying to dispel that image, Daniel pressed his fingers into the bridge of his nose and Patrick sighed.

‘Why would you have let her down?’

‘Being a mother is really important to Stella. Sometimes I think it’s the only thing that matters to her.’ Trying to get a grip on his emotions, Daniel clamped his hands over the edge of Patrick’s desk. ‘And I knew I couldn’t be what she wanted me to be. She has this picture in her head—the perfect family. Mum, Dad, lots of kids—probably a dog or two.’ He gritted his teeth. ‘And I’m not the guy in that picture. Fatherhood is the one job I’m not going to try. You mess that up, you take people with you.’

‘I happen to think you wouldn’t mess it up,’ Patrick replied calmly, ‘but I know you believe it. Which is why I didn’t knock your head off two years ago.’

Daniel straightened. ‘So you agree I did the right thing.’

‘No. But I know you think you did. And I didn’t want to watch you self-destruct and take Stella with you. She is a rare, special person. The sort of woman who would be by your side no matter what life throws at you. She wants marriage and a family—and she’ll make someone a fantastic wife and mother.’

‘And is that “someone” going to be you?’ Anger roared through him like fire through a parched forest and Daniel strode around the desk and grabbed his brother by the shoulders. ‘You’re in need of a wife and a mother for your children—is Stella going to fill that slot? Is that why she’s back?’

Patrick didn’t flinch. ‘You’ve just said you’re not interested. Why would you care?’

‘I never said I didn’t care.’ Daniel let his hands drop, stunned by his own reaction. Since when had he picked fights with his twin? ‘I just don’t think you’re the right man for Stella.’

‘I don’t think you’re qualified to judge. Relationships aren’t your speciality, are they?’

Daniel stared at his brother for a long moment and then breathed out slowly. ‘You’re not having a relationship, are you? You’re just winding me up.’

‘Why would that wind you up? You decided you’re not good for Stella. Right or wrong, that means she’s free to be with another man. And with her long legs and her sweet nature, they’re going to be beating her door down. You’d better get used to it.’

Sweat pricking his forehead, Daniel tried to imagine getting used seeing Stella with another man. ‘That’s fine. No problem. I just don’t want her mixed up with someone unsuitable. She’s pretty innocent.’

‘She went out with you for two years,’ Patrick reminded him dryly, ‘so she can’t be that innocent.’

Thinking about the steam and sizzle that had characterised their relationship, Daniel suddenly felt a rush of dangerous heat. The thought of Stella with another man made his stomach churn. ‘I just don’t want some man messing her around.’

‘Like you did? Don’t worry—if she survived you, she’ll survive anyone.’ Patrick strolled back to his desk and sat down. He took a set of notes from a pile and reached for a pencil. ‘I need to do some work.’

‘Why is she back?’

‘Obviously she’s got over you and felt able to come home. She has friends here.’ Patrick scanned some results, scribbled something onto the notes and dropped them in a tray ready to be collected. ‘A life.’

A life that didn’t include him. ‘And you’re one of those friends?’

‘Of course. I’ve known her as long as you have. She was my friend, as well as yours. She made Christmas for us that year you and Carly had your own mini-meltdowns.’ He looked at Daniel, a warning in his gaze. ‘I’ll never forget how she picked herself up and got on with things. Her heart was breaking but she still managed to dance around the house wearing antlers to make my son laugh.’

‘She was always good with children. That was our problem. All Stella ever wanted was children.’ And children were the last thing he wanted. Daniel stared at the row of photographs of his niece and nephew that Patrick had hung on the wall. Alfie and Posy giggling on a sledge. The two of them covered in ice cream at the beach. Posy in a backpack, grabbing Patrick’s hair. ‘Those two human beings are totally reliant on you. If you screw up, they suffer.’

‘Thanks for that vote of confidence.’

‘Doesn’t it terrify you?’

‘No. I love them. And I don’t intend to screw up.’ Patrick toyed with the pencil. ‘It doesn’t have to be the way it was for us, Dan.’

It was something they rarely mentioned and Daniel felt the filthy sludge of the past slide into his brain. ‘Christmas was the worst time, do you remember?’

The pencil in Patrick’s lean fingers snapped in two. ‘Yes.’

‘I counted the days until it was over.’

‘I counted them with you.’ His brother’s casual tone didn’t

fool him and suddenly Daniel wanted to know.

‘So how have you managed to put it behind you? With that grim example of parenting shining in your head, how do you do it?’

‘I love my children.’ A faint smile touched his brother’s mouth. ‘And I suppose I treat our childhood as an education in how not to parent. As long as I’m doing everything opposite, then I’m pretty confident that it will turn out all right.’

‘You’re divorced.’

‘Precisely. If Mum and Dad had divorced, they might have been happy.’ Patrick threw the broken bits of pencil into the bin. ‘I don’t subscribe to the school of thought that says a miserably unhappy couple have to stay together for the sake of the children. Why are we talking about this? What does this have to do with Stella?’

‘I’m reminding you why I don’t want marriage.’

‘I don’t need reminding.’

‘I did her a favour.’

‘You truly believe that, don’t you?’ Patrick gave a humourless laugh. ‘Dan, you proposed to her and then broke her heart. What I don’t understand is why you asked her to marry you in the first place, given your serious allergy to that condition.’

Daniel ran his hand over the back of his neck, remembering that night. ‘It was Christmas. I was crazy about her. It was what she wanted.’

‘But not what you wanted.’

‘For a brief moment I thought I did,’ Daniel confessed in a raw tone. ‘I thought maybe, just maybe, I could do it, but when your Carly—’ Breaking off, Daniel threw his brother a glance of apology but Patrick shrugged.

‘Don’t mince your words. When Carly walked out on me, it reminded you that relationships are difficult, fragile things.’

‘And Alfie cried himself to sleep at night for months!’ Daniel’s eyes slid to the photographs on the wall. ‘I never want to do that to a child.’

Patrick eyed the stack of work on his desk. ‘Could we talk about this in my kitchen over a beer later? Or was there something else you wanted to say?’

Daniel tried to clear his head. ‘You should have told me that she was coming back.’

‘I didn’t think you’d be interested. You’re dating that sleek, sexy solicitor, remember? You’ve moved on.’ Patrick closed the file he’d been reading and placed it in a tray at the front of his desk ready to be collected.

Glaring at his brother, Daniel wondered how it was possible to love a person and hate them at the same time. ‘Well, how long is she back for? Where is she living?’

‘As far as I know, she’s back for good.’ Patrick leaned back in his chair and looked his brother in the eye. ‘And she’s living with me.’

Chapter Two

STELLA walked into the treatment room and stopped the moment she saw Daniel. Her stomach flipped and her heart did a crazy dance. ‘Sorry, I just needed to pick up a dressing pack.’ Depressed by the effect he had on her, she backed towards the door and then noticed that he was putting an ice pack on his knuckles. ‘Have you hurt yourself? What happened?’

‘I hit my hand on something.’

Forgetting her own feelings for a moment, Stella stared at his profile, sensing his boiling anger. She knew him so well. Understood his moods, his volatility and his restless, brilliant mind. She remembered Patrick once telling her that if Daniel hadn’t suddenly decided to be a doctor, he probably would have ended up in gaol. ‘You hit your hand? Oh, God.’ Her stomach lurched as the truth hit her. ‘You’ve seen Patrick, haven’t you? Please tell me you didn’t—’

‘No.’ He growled the word angrily as he flexed his fingers. ‘I didn’t. Believe it or not, I have no intention of adding grievous bodily harm to my list of sins. I punched the wall.’

‘Oh.’ Relief poured over her. ‘What had the wall done wrong?’ But even while she was making a joke of it, her thoughts were spinning all over the place. This was because of her, she had no doubt about that. And part of her felt light-headed that her arrival had destabilised him because it meant that he still cared. And another part was angry with herself because that reaction was so infuriatingly illogical. She didn’t want him to care for her and she didn’t want to care for him.

She’d been there. Done that. Tested their relationship to the limits.

Watched it snap.

The glance he threw in her direction was dark and threatening. ‘This isn’t funny.’

‘I agree.’ If they couldn’t put the past behind them it certainly wasn’t going to be funny. Crisp and professional, Stella walked over to him and took his hand in hers, examining the bruising. But she found herself thinking about the strength in those fingers—the skill she knew he possessed. Skill in the resuscitation room. Skill in the bedroom. ‘That’s a nasty bruise.’ Taking the ice pack from him, she repositioned it so that it rested on the worst of the bruising. ‘I suppose I should be relieved that you’ve learned to hit the wall and not your brother, otherwise I would have had both of you in here and that would take some explaining. Are you going to have this X-rayed?’

‘What for? Nothing’s broken.’ There was a rough note to his voice that told her he was as aware of her as she was of him. ‘Who’s the doctor here?’

‘You are.’ She was tempted to slide the ice pack down the front of her scrub suit to cool her overheated body. ‘But you don’t appear to be thinking clearly.’ And she wasn’t thinking clearly, either, with him so close to her. Suddenly holding his hand didn’t seem like such a clever idea. The sight of those dark hairs shading his strong forearms was enough to make her think things she shouldn’t be thinking and the sudden flare of sexual awareness was like a punch to her senses. Stella let go of his hand. ‘I’ll get you a bandage.’

‘I don’t need a bandage.’

‘Then maybe you need an MRI to look at brain function,’ she said tartly, her tone reflecting her frustration with herself. ‘Going around hitting walls isn’t exactly the behaviour of a consultant.’

‘I wasn’t a consultant when I punched the wall. I was a man. Dammit, Stella.’ He caught her chin in his undamaged hand, turning her face to his, his movements strong and confident, his tone raw and demanding. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?’

The way he touched her rattled her self-control. ‘I didn’t think you needed to know.’

‘But you told my brother.’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re living with him.’

Stella moved her head but he had her trapped. ‘Not with him. In the stable. Is that why you tried to knock a hole in the wall?’ Watching his reaction, she shook her head in disbelief. ‘For goodness’ sake, Daniel! What is the matter with you? I’ve seen you handle drunks and drug addicts with calm and patience. I’ve seen you ice cold, resuscitating a newborn baby when the other doctors in the room were all shaking hands and sweating brows. You have more control than any other man I know. And more intelligence.’

‘He said you were living with him.’

‘In the stable! Can’t you tell when he’s winding you up?’

Daniel gave a grunt and let his hand drop. ‘My brother knows which buttons to push.’

‘You two don’t change.’ But she knew how close they were and felt a flash of guilt for causing friction. ‘There’s nothing between Patrick and me.’

‘It’s two years since Carly walked out. He’s ready for another relationship.’ His tone was rough. ‘If that’s what the two of you want, I’m relaxed about it.’

Relaxed?

Stella decided not to remind him that his knuckles had required an ice pack. It was natural, she told herself, that he’d feel uncomfortable about her being with Patrick. It was just too close for comfort. He was probably worried that he’d be tripping over her every time he called in on his brother. ‘Is that what you’re buying him for Christmas? A relationship?’

Daniel flexed his fingers, testing the injury. ‘I think we both know relationships aren’t my speciality. And you still haven’t answered my question. Why are you back?’

‘I’m back because this is where I want to live, Daniel! I love the Lake District—I love the hospital. My friends are here. The only reason I went away in the first place was because I just couldn’t work alongside you after everything that happened. But I’ve moved on.’ She hoped she sounded convincing. ‘And so have you. If you’re worried about awkward moments, then don’t be. There won’t be any.’

‘Have you moved on?’

‘Of course.’ Stella thought of ‘Caring of Cumbria’.

‘That Christmas two years ago—’

‘Let’s not talk about it. There’s no point.’ Surprised and unsettled by his unexpected reference to their highly emotional break-up, Stella decided that the best thing was to show him everything was fine. ‘I hear you’re seeing someone. That’s good. I’m pleased for you.’

Daniel discarded the ice pack. ‘You are?’

‘Of course. I only ever wanted you to be happy. I’m seeing someone, too.’

Daniel inhaled sharply and his eyes narrowed to two dangerous slits. ‘Who?’

Stella suddenly realised that she didn’t want to tell him she was using a dating agency. Why did that feel embarrassing? She didn’t know, but it did. ‘Just a guy.’

‘So you don’t know him very well.’ ‘That’s why we’re dating. To get to know each other.’

‘How long have you known him?’

Stella was starting to wish she’d never begun the conversation. ‘A couple of months.’ Which was true, she reasoned. They’d been emailing each other since October.

‘What does he do?’

‘What does it matter?’ She stared at him, exasperated and confused. ‘Why do you care?’

‘I’m just making conversation. Finding out what’s been happening to you.’ But the expression in his eyes said differently. ‘Isn’t that what friends do?’

‘Yes, but we’re not friends, Dan,’ Stella said softly. ‘We haven’t been in touch for two years and I think we both know that was the right decision.’ Staying in touch would have been like squeezing lemon juice onto an open wound.

‘You don’t seem to have any problems being friends with my brother.’

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