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‘You’re new, aren’t you? I’m Ross Hamilton; this is Oliver Henderson. I’m afraid we’re responsible for your workload.’
She chuckled, and yet again she introduced herself, and yet again her hand was shaken, first by Ross, then by Oliver, who was lounging against the workstation. He looked tired, too. Another hands-on? Probably. ‘How’s your first day been?’ he asked, his voice deep and gravelly.
‘It’s been fine,’ she replied. ‘Busy, but I like that.’
Ross snorted. ‘Good job—there are plenty more days where today came from. Well, take care, and don’t let Helen bully you. Any problems, you tell me and I’ll get Tom to take her on one side and beat her up a bit.’
His grin was a heartbreaker, she realised, laughing at his silly words, and then they both moved off, gathering up their registrars and going to talk to their patients. Helen accompanied one firm, Ruth another, and Laura was left blissfully alone for a few peaceful minutes. She tidied the flower-room, in chaos now after the visitors had been in and snipped stems around the place, and helped one of Ross’s Monday post-ops to the bathroom.
That done, she returned to the workstation to find Gavin writing in bold felt-tip on a blank envelope.
‘House-share to let,’ she read. Own rooms, share kitchen and bathroom, must be civilised and housetrained and prepared to tolerate home improvements!’
She could see the evidence of some of the home improvements in the white tips on his dark, silky hair. He must have been painting, she thought with a smile, and brushed against the wall. It was easily done. She found herself wondering if his hair was as soft as it looked, and shook herself. What was she thinking about? He was a colleague—and a man. She was finished with all that. Finished. Forever.
Gavin knew she was there, but the lettering needed his full attention. Tongue caught in the corner of his mouth, he completed the task, dropped the pen with a sigh and tipped the chair onto its back legs with a grin. ‘Hi. How’s your day been?’
‘Busy. I see you’re looking for a lodger.’
‘Yes—do you want to apply?’
She laughed and shook her head. ‘I’ll find a flat. I’m living with my parents at the moment—it’s easier.’
‘Are they close?’
She shook her head again. ‘No, not really, but I don’t mind the journey. It’s only for a while. I’ve got a couple of flats to look at tonight after work, but they were only vacated yesterday.’
There was something in her beautiful, soft brown eyes, something wary but infinitely sad, that tugged at him. Some remnant of the child who had taken home the damaged hedgehog and nursed it back to health wanted to gather this girl up against his chest and tell her it would be all right.
He didn’t, though. She wouldn’t have tolerated it, and he wouldn’t presume to interfere on such short acquaintance. But he wondered what it was that had hurt her and put that deeply wary look in her eyes. Helen had commented on it; so had Ruth. Now Gavin found himself wondering yet again what it could have been. A lover? Husband, perhaps? She was living with her parents, but she must be nearly his age and most women in their late twenties lived independently if not with a partner.
His father’s words came back to taunt him. ‘You always hurl yourself into situations without a second thought. One day you’ll come unstuck—I thought it would be over a woman, some lame duck with horrendous problems that you’ll fall for hook, line and sinker…’
Was Laura a lame duck? Or was his imagination working overtime? Perhaps it was just those mournful brown eyes, like the eyes of a kicked puppy. God, he was going mad. She was probably fine.
He looked back up at her and surprised a look of vulnerability on her face.
‘What is it?’ he asked gently.
She blinked. ‘What?’
‘You looked thoughtfully.’
She smiled tentatively. ‘I just don’t want to live in town.’
‘So forget the flats, and come and look at my cottage.’
She stared at him as if he were mad. ‘I can’t!’ she said, scandalised.
‘Why?’
Her shoulders twitched helplessly. ‘Because.’
‘Because what? I’m a man and you’re a woman? What of it? Anyway, it’s really two cottages, linked on the ground floor with one doorway. There’s only one bathroom at the moment, but I’m sure we could manage. The upstairs parts are quite separate, so you’d be totally private.’ His smile was teasing. ‘You can trust me not to jump your bones, Laura. I’m quite civilised, and I even know how to wash up.’
She hesitated, chewing her lip, and then shook her head. ‘I don’t think so—but thanks for asking.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I’m off duty. Amazing. The day’s gone.’
He laughed. ‘Been a long one?’ he asked sympathetically.
She chuckled. ‘Just a bit. How did you get on with Mrs Peacey?’
‘Evie?’ Gavin felt the smile leave his eyes. ‘She’s a mess—worse than the scanner led us to believe. She can’t have long. We removed what we could, but it was nothing like enough. She’s in ITU at the moment.
‘Isn’t it worth doing an aortic graft?’
He shook his head. ‘Too extensive. The tumour spreads all up the aorta almost to her heart. No, unfortunately Evie’s days are seriously numbered.’ He stood up, sliding the envelope into his pocket. ‘I’ll have a word with her before I go off duty, then if you’re sure I can’t persuade you I’ll go and put this advert on the noticeboard in the staff canteen.’
She shook her head. ‘I’ll try the flats—but thanks again, anyway. I’m sure you’ll find someone.’
He felt a twinge of regret at her refusal, but he wasn’t going to push her. There was time. Maybe the flats would be vile. He crossed his fingers in his pocket. If he had to share his first proper home with someone, he could do a lot worse than this pretty, wary-eyed woman with the soft curves and sad, tentative smile. He’d just have to hope God was on his side.
The flats were vile. One backed, quite literally, on to a gasworks, the other was near the railway—very near. So near, in fact, that when a train went through she couldn’t hear the landlord speak.
Depressed, facing a twenty-mile journey twice a day or living in squalor in the seedy part of town, Laura climbed into her car, drove away from her last option without a backward glance and wondered what on earth she would do.
The town was almost devoid of accommodation to let—at least, accommodation that she could even remotely afford. Anything fit to live in was at least twice what she was able to pay, and even then she’d be buried alive in the town. She hated it—hated it with a passion. She’d been raised in the country, had lived in the country all her life, and the very thought of all those people pressing in around her gave her the heebie-jeebies.
There was only one option that appealed, and she wasn’t sure how serious he had been or how wise it would be to mix business and home life. One thing she was sure of, though: emotionally, Gavin wasn’t a threat. He hadn’t made any attempt to flirt with her, his friendliness had been utterly open and without strings, and she was sure—positive—that she could trust him.
Laura thought about Gavin’s offer, and on impulse went back to the hospital, found the card and copied down the number, then rang him before her courage ran out.
‘Hello, Gavin Jones,’ he said, and she took a deep breath and rushed in quickly, before she lost her nerve.
‘Gavin? It’s Laura—Laura Bailey from the hospital. Um—about your cottage. Were you serious?’
There was a second of startled silence, and then his voice, soft now, as if he was reassuring her. Of course I was serious. Do you want to come and have a look?’
She chewed her lip. ‘Could I?’
‘Sure. When?’
‘Tonight?’ Quickly, before she panicked and thought better of it—
‘That’s fine,’ he was saying. ‘Have you eaten?’
She laughed. ‘Eaten? No. I haven’t even changed out of my uniform yet.’
‘Well, why don’t you come over now and I’ll give you something to eat and a guided tour? I warn you, I’m no cook, but you’re welcome to share whatever I can find.’
She was exhausted, depressed by the town and faced with a long drive home while she was starving hungry. His offer sounded wonderful, and she said so.
He told her not to get her hopes up, gave her directions to his house and then hung up. Suddenly nervous, she made her way back to her car. Would she be able to find the way? She looked at the hastily scribbled directions. Was it really that easy?
It was. His directions were clear and precise, and she pulled up outside his cottage a mere ten minutes later. A pretty pink-washed cottage turned salmon by the evening sun, it squatted at the end of a small terrace of old cottages, set in a pretty little garden with old shrubs and perennials just coming into flower.
The beds needed some work, but with a little love it would be beautiful, she thought, and her fingers itched to get to grips with it. She turned into the drive as instructed, and found her car just fitted beside his on the drive. As she switched off the engine the door opened and he came out, lounging against the door post with his arms folded and his legs crossed at the ankle, waiting while she got out.
His smile was welcoming, the light in the room behind him beckoning her, and as the evening sun bathed them in a glorious golden light Laura had the strangest feeling that she was coming home.
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_3daff3d0-8599-5869-b0ca-8dd4b9c2249f)
FROM his vantage point by the door Gavin watched her. He wanted to go to her, to open her door and help her out of the car, but he forced himself to remain by the door, his smile casually welcoming, while he watched her thoughtfully.
Laura liked it. He could see that at once without a degree in psychology. It was written all over her face in letters ten feet high.
He couldn’t stop the smile. He’d felt just the same about the cottage when he’d first seen it, and it was good to share that feeling. He unfolded his arms as she approached and straightened away from the door frame.
‘Hi. Welcome to my humble abode,’ he said with a smile, and, pushing the door open wider, he ushered her in.
She stopped just inside the door and looked round hesitantly, and immediately he saw it with her eyes—bare and rather bleak.
‘It’s a bit sparse at the moment,’ he told her hastily. ‘I’ve only been in it just over a week, and it’s taken me all my time to get it clean and respectable. Now I have to work on homely.’
His grin was wry, and to his relief she answered it, her face softening as she looked round at the clean but almost empty room. ‘It’s going to be lovely. Is there an inglenook in that chimney wall?’
He glanced across at the blank wall where a fireplace should have been. ‘I expect so. I was going to attack it and find out, but it wasn’t exactly a high priority. I was more concerned with having a kitchen sink that worked!’
Her smile warmed him down to his bones. ‘I see your point,’ she agreed. ‘Did you have a great deal to do?’
He gave a little grunt of laughter. ‘Just a touch. I’ll get there, though. Come and see the bits that are relevant to you.’
He led her through the doorway, ducking automatically now, and turned in time to see her face as she followed him.
‘Oh, Gavin, it’s lovely!’ she cried, and he felt his efforts were amply rewarded, just by the smile on her face. The little suite and matching curtains had been in a junk shop, and despite her new baby his sister had washed the curtains and covers for him and helped him put the curtains up. The soft lovat-green carpet was all new throughout, courtesy of the bank, and as he led her up the little winding staircase he found his heart was hammering in his throat.
For some crazy, absurd reason it was suddenly incredibly important that Laura like the bedroom and want to move into it, to share his home with him, so he could keep an eye on her and look after her and shield her from any further hurt.
He needn’t have worried. She loved the little room, simply furnished with an old wooden bed frame he had struggled up the stairs with, a simple chest of drawers and an old loom chair with a pretty cushion on it to match the curtains his sister had been about to throw away.
‘Oh, it’s lovely,’ Laura breathed. She crossed to the window and looked out, her mouth curving involuntarily as her eyes took in the view over the village to the church in the distance. ‘Gavin, it’s wonderful.’
‘Come and see the kitchen,’ he urged, worried now that she might change her mind and run away once she saw the primitive sink and basic plumbing.
She didn’t. Over supper, a simple salad with fresh, crusty bread and crumbly farmhouse cheddar bought in haste at the farm shop up the road, he told her of his plans for the kitchen, and she agreed, offering suggestions of her own that improved on his ideas and filled him with enthusiasm so that he wanted to start straight away.
He restrained himself, making her a cup of coffee instead and taking her through into his own sitting-room, now comfortably furnished with one large, squashy chair to accommodate his rangy frame and another, smaller one that Laura looked just right in.
She kicked off her shoes with a sigh, tucked her feet up under her bottom and wriggled down into the chair as if she belonged there.
He propped his feet on the trunk between them and watched her over the top of his mug. Lord, but she was lovely. Lovely, tired and still so wary. Why?
‘Well?’ he said at last, his patience exhausted. His mouth tipped in a cautious smile. ‘Are you going to come and live here?’
He avoided saying ‘with me’, although it was at the forefront of his mind and quite a different proposition to the one he had put to her.
She met his smile with a tentative one of her own. ‘I’d love to—if I can afford it. You haven’t said how much.’
He halved the figure he had originally intended to ask, and she protested.
‘That’s far too little! It’s worth twice that!’
Which took them back to his original figure. They settled on a halfway point, and as she agreed to it Gavin leant back against the cushions, the tension draining from him at a stroke.
‘When do you want to move in?’ he asked after a moment. ‘You can come as soon as you like; it’s ready.’
Her poor lip was caught between those little teeth again and worried gently. ‘Tomorrow?’ she suggested. ‘If that’s not too soon…?’
His heart lurched. Too soon? No way!
‘That would be fine,’ he said casually. ‘After work?’
She shook her head. ‘I’m on a late—I could bring my things over in the morning. I haven’t got much.’
‘I’ll give you some keys now.’
‘But I haven’t got my cheque book with me. Don’t you want money up front?’
He chuckled. ‘Why? Are you going to do a runner with my immaculate furniture?’
Her smile was worth waiting for. ‘I might—you don’t know,’ she teased, and he felt a lump form in his chest and swell until it nearly choked him. Damn, she was pretty when she smiled like that …
She set her cup down on the old trunk that served as a coffee-table and got to her feet, clearly reluctant. ‘I must go—my parents will be worrying about me.’
‘Ring them.’
‘May I?’
She was very brief—too brief. He didn’t want her to go. She did, however, taking the keys and promising to see him tomorrow at the hospital with a cheque after she had moved in. He escorted her to her car, keeping a distance, and by a huge effort of restraint managed not to hug her.
As she drove off, giving a jaunty little wave, he went back into the house. Thoughtful, he lowered himself into her chair. It was still warm, and the faintest trace of her fragrance lingered on the air. His fingers meandered absently over the arm, outlining the overblown roses of the print as he looked around the room.
For the first time since he had bought it, he realised what the house needed to turn it into a home.
A woman—but not just any woman.
Laura …
She couldn’t believe her luck. The cottage was wonderful, Gavin was so easy to get on with it was unbelievable, and her first day had gone really well. Perhaps her new life wouldn’t be so bad after all.
