The Nurse's Christmas Wish (The Cornish Consultants)

‘Louisa, can I play with Hopeful?’ Poppy bounded into the kitchen, clutching a large bunch of mistletoe, Rick close on her heels, his expression brightening as he spotted Hannah.

‘Great to see you.’

Hannah blushed and scooped an excited Poppy into her arms. ‘Shall we take that dog into the sitting room and play with him?’

‘I wish you would,’ Louisa said fervently, vowing that next year she was going to study the anatomy of a turkey so that she could carve the thing herself. ‘I can’t think about him at the moment. I need to do the sprouts.’

Poppy screwed up her face. ‘I hate sprouts.’

‘You’re supposed to hate sprouts,’ Alice said happily from her seat at the kitchen table. Her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol. ‘You’re a child. All children hate sprouts.’

‘You won’t hate my sprouts.’ Louisa checked the bread sauce, put the cranberry on the heat to warm and stirred the gravy. ‘We can eat in ten minutes.’

‘Great,’ Hannah said cheerfully. ‘I’m starving.’

Alice looked shocked. ‘But Mac isn’t home yet.’

Louisa paused, the hand that was stirring the gravy suddenly still. ‘He isn’t coming home, Alice,’ she mumbled, cursing under her breath as she felt tears clog her throat. Oh, she was so stupid! She’d frightened him away. She’d let him see how much she loved him and that had frightened him away.

He was at the hospital again because of her.

And hadn’t the whole purpose of her visit been to persuade Mac to share Christmas with the world? Maybe he would have done that if she hadn’t been so stupid as to fall in love with him.

Josh would be so disappointed in her.

She was disappointed in herself. Not for falling in love with Mac—she couldn’t have stopped that—but for showing him how she felt, for putting pressure on him when he so clearly didn’t feel the sa

me way.

She was old enough to know that men could have sex, even tremendous sex, without feeling anything emotionally. To the best of her knowledge, Josh had been doing it for most of his adult life. She’d been naïve to think that it had meant something more to Mac.

And because of her, because of the things she’d said, he’d gone to work when he should have been in his own home.

She’d made things worse, instead of helping.

Pushed him too far in her clumsy attempt to help.

Swamped by guilt and worry for Mac, she surreptitiously wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

‘Poppy...’ Alice’s voice was remarkably firm, given the volume of sherry she’d consumed. ‘That’s Hopeful’s lead on that peg—just over there. Take him down to the beach for five minutes, dear. Daddy and Hannah will go with you. Wrap up warm. It’s freezing out there.’

Rick glanced at Louisa and then at the old lady, saw something in her eyes and gave a nod. ‘Great idea. We’ll get some fresh air before lunch. Get out from under your feet. Come on, Poppy.’

They vanished from the kitchen and Louisa and Alice were left alone.

‘Hannah and Rick seem quite taken with each other,’ Louisa said brightly, stirring the gravy vigorously and making a supreme effort to pull herself together.

Life wasn’t about fairy-tale endings.

She should know that better than anyone.

Life was hard and challenging and full of things you wanted and couldn’t have.

Like love and a family.

Like Mac.

‘Now, dear.’ Alice’s voice was soft. ‘Leave that gravy to simmer, sit down at this table and tell me what exactly has been happening between you and our lovely Dr Sullivan?’