The Midwife's Christmas Miracle (Lakeside Mountain Rescue 5)

A freezing gust of wind howled across the car park and a few flakes of snow wafted past her face. She was cold, tired and she still had to cycle the two miles home. The last thing she needed was confrontation. And she didn’t need to think about a kiss that she’d spent one whole night and day trying to forget.

‘Can we talk about this another time?’

‘No.’ His voice was thin. ‘We can’t.’

‘All right.’ She turned to face him, so tired that her own temper started to bubble up. ‘For a start, I didn’t kiss you—you kissed me.’

‘So this is my fault?’

How could she ever have thought he was a nice man? Looming over her now, he looked tough, intimidating and just about as far from nice as it was possible to be.

She was a lousy judge of men, she decided with no small degree of self-derision. Lousy.

‘I didn’t say it was your fault.’

‘Good. Because I may have kissed you but you kissed me right back. What’s your excuse? Are you going to blame the atmosphere? Or the alcohol you didn’t drink? Where was the father of your baby while you were kissing me?!’

‘Damn you, Jake!’ Exhaustion and disappointment made her temper break loose. For a moment she’d thought he was different. Special. ‘You know absolutely nothing about my life! And one kiss doesn’t give you the right to moralise on a subject about which you know nothing!’

She swayed slightly and he swore softly and gripped the tops of her arms with strong hands.

‘Look at you, you’re exhausted! What are you trying to do to yourself, Miranda? Yesterday you were walking on your own in the middle of nowhere in lousy weather and today you’ve just worked a ridiculously long shift. You’re pregnant. You should be looking after yourself and the baby.’

His words were the final straw. She was looking after herself and the baby. She had to because there was no one else to do it.

‘I’m perfectly aware of my responsibilities towards the baby,’ she spat, wriggling her arms out of his grip and glaring at him. ‘That’s why I turn up at work even though I’m exhausted. Not all of us have the luxury of being able to spend our pregnancy lazing around in bed. And my life is none of your business.’

‘You keep making it my business.’ He moved towards her, his blue eyes glittering in his handsome face. ‘It was my business when you tried to half kill yourself on a mountain yesterday and it was my business when you spent the day with me and kissed me. And it was my business today when you were working on my unit.’

She backed away and wrapped her arms around herself to try and stop the shivering. She was going to have to find another job. This was never going to work. Suddenly she just wanted to go home. If the tiny flat that she’d rented could be classed as home. ‘Fine. I made a mistake, walking on the mountains without checking the weather, I admit it. And I admit that I should never have gone home with you, but you wouldn’t take no for an answer and it seemed harmless enough at the time. Obviously it wasn’t, but you know what they say about hindsight.’ She turned and pulled her bike away from the railings. ‘Now, I need to get home.’

‘On that?’ He stared at her bike in disbelief and her answering glance was loaded with derision and disillusionment.

‘Yes, on this. We’re not all the fortunate owners of a Porsche, Mr Blackwell. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I expect we’ll see each other tomorrow.’ Unfortunately. She was tempted to call the agency and ask them to send her somewhere else but she knew that there wasn’t anywhere else. This was the only obstetric unit for miles around. And she wasn’t in a position to move again. She had to think of the baby now. She had to put down roots—make a home for them both.

A feeling of warmth spread through her and a rush of protectiveness. The same feelings she’d had from the moment she’d discovered she was pregnant. Given the circumstances, she probably should have been appalled, but she’d been thrilled and delighted. Excited. Of all the things she regretted in her life, becoming pregnant wasn’t one of them.

‘That’s it?’ He reached out and gripped her handlebars so that she couldn’t go anywhere. ‘That’s all the explanation you’re prepared to give me?’

The warmth inside her faded. ‘What do you want me to say?’ She gripped the bike tightly, trying to ignore the insistent throbbing in her head. ‘That I’m a slut who kisses men even though she’s six months pregnant? There we are—I said it. I behaved badly.’ Her tone was flippant and slightly bitter. ‘I shouldn’t have gone home with you and I shouldn’t have kissed you.’

‘Then why did you?’

‘Because you were pushy and because I—’ She broke off, struggling to explain something that she hadn’t even managed to explain to herself. Why had she gone home with him? ‘It was Christmas Day. I didn’t want to be on my own.’

‘Why would you have been on your own? Did you have a row with your husband?’

Husband? ‘No!’ She didn’t want him thinking that of her. ‘I’m not married.’

‘Partner, then.’

Partner? What a joke. ‘Mr Blackwell.’ She tugged at the bike so that he was forced to let go. ‘I think we should just forget the whole thing now. I’m grateful to you for rescuing me and giving me somewhere nice to spend Christmas

Day. But it’s history. Christmas has a way of doing funny things to people. If you don’t believe me, just think about the increase in suicides and all the people who make utter fools of themselves at office parties. We all go a little mad at Christmas. And now I need to go home.’ Before her aching, exhausted body gave up the ghost and slithered to the ground.

His mouth was set in a grim line. ‘Is he waiting for you?’

Why was he persisting in this line of questioning? ‘Does it matter?’