скачать книгу бесплатно
A Family at Last
Jacqueline Diamond
The Wait Might Just Be OverYears after a teenage prank ended badly and a young boy's testimony put his best friend in jail, Downhome, Tennessee, is still trying to heal the scars of the old scandal. Now the two are back in town–one trying to clear himself of murder, the other of betrayal–and long-buried feelings have been stirred.Karen Lowell is once again caught between the two men, with even more now at stake. Her brother's ongoing crusade to shift blame away from himself has already poisoned her past, and now it's tainting her dreams for the future.Because Karen yearns for a life that will include pediatrician Chris McRay, the man who is now–as he was so many years ago–her lover. A life where she and Chris will be a family at last.The choice is hers. Can she make it?
“You can’t prop him up forever.”
“I know that. I’m only asking you to wait a little longer. If Jeremiah really did kill Norbert Anglin, those fibers might prove it. Once Barry clears his record, he’ll have a second chance at the life he always wanted.”
“We have no guarantee it will work.” Chris wrapped his arms around his knees. “I want to fight for you because we belong together. But I have needs, too, Karen. I’ve been on a roller coaster ever since I got back to town. Please promise to marry me. We’ll work the rest out later.”
“I can’t,” she said miserably. “Not now.”
“I won’t force the issue tonight,” he conceded, “but neither am I willing to continue seeing you on the sly. If this business with the fibers doesn’t work out, you’re going to have to choose.”
“I know.”
Karen’s heart felt close to bursting. The prospect of betraying her brother went against her character, right down to her soul. Yet she couldn’t bear to lose Chris.
Somehow she had to find a way to say yes.
Dear Reader,
Although A Family at Last is the third book set in Downhome, Tennessee, it stands by itself. Readers of the previous two books will enjoy meeting old friends, but new readers won’t have any trouble jumping into the story.
This time, the town in need of doctors has landed pediatrician Chris McRay. Although nursing home director Karen Lowell once loved him, his testimony sent her brother, Barry, to prison for a crime he didn’t commit.
In an attempt to clear his name, Barry has focused on Chris—even going so far as to accuse him of committing the murder himself. But Chris is determined to put those rumors to rest.
Karen doesn’t know whom to believe or where her loyalties lie. The tricky part is that as Chris fits back into the community, she discovers she’s falling in love with him all over again.
None of them has considered that even in a close-knit town like Downhome, the real killer might still be on the loose. They’re going to have to put aside their divided loyalties and work together if they want a happy ending.
Hope you enjoy their story! Please e-mail me at jdiamondfriends@aol.com and visit my Web site at www.jacquelinediamond.com.
A Family at Last
Jacqueline Diamond
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Books by Jacqueline Diamond
HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE
913—THE IMPROPERLY PREGNANT PRINCESS
962—DIAGNOSIS: EXPECTING BOSS’S BABY
971—PRESCRIPTION: MARRY HER IMMEDIATELY
978—PROGNOSIS: A BABY? MAYBE
1046—THE BABY’S BODYGUARD
1075—THE BABY SCHEME
1094—THE POLICE CHIEF'S LADY* (#litres_trial_promo)
1101—NINE-MONTH SURPRISE* (#litres_trial_promo)
Contents
Chapter One (#u55afcbed-02ae-5805-8a81-e2902238c50a)
Chapter Two (#u1405766c-5e52-569f-9365-ad92f9c6dcde)
Chapter Three (#u953d480b-355d-55f1-bf32-2d29c8a17a0c)
Chapter Four (#u84e60f6a-c250-5c6e-b010-b5758452588a)
Chapter Five (#ua3946e8b-7143-500d-9337-a5eaffcde73f)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Through the gathering dusk, Karen Lowell stared at the one-story brick pediatric clinic in the Green Hills area of Nashville, Tennessee. She had to summon the courage to march inside that building, even if it meant making a complete fool of herself.
She had to stop Dr. Chris McRay from ruining her life.
And her brother’s. And a lot of other people’s. Maybe even his own.
She opened her car door and stepped into a blustery February wind that buffeted her dark green coat. She should have come here months ago, she reflected as she hurried across the parking lot. She’d blamed work and family pressures, but in all honesty, cowardice had kept her away.
Chris had no business returning to his hometown, even if it did desperately need a pediatrician. Karen had opposed hiring him and now he’d set a date less than three weeks away for his arrival.
Before he made the move, someone had to change his mind. Karen couldn’t delay any longer.
She knew practicality wouldn’t sway Chris, who must have already weighed the reduction in income he’d receive by moving to Downhome. Instead, she had to hope he’d retained a shred of common decency.
It was a lot to ask of a man who’d lied on the witness stand. A man who’d sent her innocent brother to prison to cover up a crime he himself had committed.
A man who’d gotten away with murder.
Although her hands felt clammy, Karen refused to let nerves get the better of her. Murderer or not, Chris posed no immediate danger. In fact, to a casual observer, he no doubt appeared quite likable.
He’d been all smoothness and charm when he’d interviewed for the clinic job. As director of the town’s nursing home, Karen had served on the three-person physician search committee, which meant she’d had to sit there acting civil. Afterward, she’d voiced her opposition forcefully, but the other committee members had prevailed.
No wonder, considering how few applications they’d received. Chris was clearly the best qualified, on the surface. And few people in town wanted to confront the miscarriage of justice he’d perpetrated fifteen years earlier.
Karen stepped through the glass door into the inviting warmth. At this hour—a few minutes past five—no one occupied the front counter, which was festooned with red crepe paper and Valentine’s Day hearts. A waiting room opened on each side, one marked for well-child checkups and the other for ailing youngsters.
She hadn’t meant to arrive so late. However, her justification for taking a day off work and making the hour-and-a-half drive to Nashville had been to attend a continuing-education seminar at Vanderbilt University. The seminar had ended half an hour ago, and then she’d become mired in traffic on Hillsborough Road.
Childish laughter and a whiff of cinnamon issued from the waiting room to her right. Above the din, a man urged the youngsters to settle down. Despite the calm words, that voice sent chills through Karen.
Cautiously, she eased into the doorway. Through clusters of balloons, she spotted a group of enthusiastic toddlers and preschoolers gathered around a white-coated figure who sat on the carpet.
Even with his back to her, there was no mistaking Chris’s shaggy brown hair. Then his achingly familiar tenor launched into “The Wheels on the Bus.” With his right hand, he conducted the children in an impromptu chorus, while his left arm cradled an infant.
The children joined in with gusto. Instinctively, Karen hummed along until she realized what she was doing. Did the man’s good humor have to be so infectious?
Finishing the song, he turned and flashed a smile at some of the applauding mothers. The groove in his cheek stirred memories as sharp as glass.
Karen could almost smell the scents of her childhood: sultry wildflowers from summer fields where she used to tag along with her brother, Barry, and Chris, his best friend, as they explored; pungent rainy days in the attic, when they’d donned old clothes and Chris had led the playacting; the roses he’d helped her prune during their teen years, when she’d watched the boy grow into a man. She’d feared he would never notice her—but then he had. One magical night that she’d expected to cherish forever.
Instead, for many years, she’d regretted it with all her heart.
“Would y’all like some cider?” The question, close to Karen’s ear, startled her from her reverie. A young woman indicated a steaming Crock-Pot, the source of the cinnamon scent.
“Thanks.” Gratefully, Karen accepted a cup of the hot liquid. Glancing around, she realized all the mothers were quite young. “What’s going on?”
“We’re the Teen Mom Cooperative,” was the cheerful response. “Dr. Chris sponsors us.”
His application had listed the group as one of his volunteer activities, Karen recalled. “I’m surprised he wants to leave Nashville,” she blurted before considering that the other woman might not know of his plans.
However, her hostess appeared merely resigned. “He wants to spend more time with his crippled grandmother. We’ll miss him like crazy, but I think it’s sweet. That poor old lady deserves a little love.”
Karen suppressed a smile. Poor old lady indeed! Mae Anne McRay might live at the nursing home and have to get around in a wheelchair, but the eighty-one-year-old former school principal served on the town council and tutored students for their SAT tests. She also had a tongue tart enough to sour milk.
In the play area, Chris disentangled the children gently and arose. “I suppose you guys will be wanting a grand finale. Anybody know what a finale is?”
“They go flip-flop in the pool!” cried a little girl.
“That would be swim fins. Very close.” Receiving no further guesses, he explained, “A grand finale is a fancy way to end a show. Sometimes it involves fireworks, but that wouldn’t go over too well indoors.”
“Why not?” demanded a toddler.
“It’d start a fire,” returned a little girl.
“Poof!” Another youngster waved his hands to illustrate.
“So I thought we might—” Chris broke off as a trail of soap bubbles escaped from his sleeve. “What was that?”
Karen heard a few giggles. As more of the shimmering orbs appeared, the children began to shout with glee.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake.” The doctor pretended to grumble. “How did those get there?”
“You’re making them!” protested a boy.
More bubbles shot into the air, followed by a steady stream of them. Little hands batted them higher and higher. Only a few shy kids hung back, until Chris aimed some directly at them and then they, too, joined the fun.
Dancing around the room, the kids looked adorable. The nursing-home residents would love to watch this, Karen thought, wishing she had a video camera. Focused solely on the children, of course.
“I know what caused it!” the doctor declared solemnly. “I took a bath today. I guess I didn’t rinse off well enough, huh?” Laughter greeted this absurd statement.
Tears filled Karen’s eyes. How could this charismatic man be the cruel boy who’d fooled her, fooled Barry and, above all, fooled a jury?
Bringing the event to a crescendo, he whirled, releasing a torrent of glistening globes. All semblance of order vanished as the kids gave chase around the room.
As Chris spun, Karen fixed on his face—the dark eyes keenly alive, the full mouth quirking with merriment. The strength of his personality hit her.
She averted her eyes. Never, ever would she fall under his spell again.
As the hilarity faded, he clapped his hands for attention. “Your moms have a jar of bubble mix for each of you. But—” he waited until the gleeful response died down “—first, you have to fetch your coats and leave quietly. That’s the rule. Okay, everybody?”
“Okay, Dr. Chris!” little voices chorused. After hugs all around, the race was on to pull on outer garments and make a quick exit so they could claim their prizes.
Masterly, Karen reflected. The man had always had a gift for calculating his effect and arousing the desired response.
She’d learned that lesson the hard way.
