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Second Chance with Her Soldier
Second Chance with Her Soldier
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Second Chance with Her Soldier

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Second Chance with Her Soldier
Barbara Hannay

Returning from the front line, Corporal Joe Madden clutches his divorce papers. After a series of heart-breaking fertility problems, his once perfect marriage is set for the final curtain.It may be three years since Ellie saw her husband, yet the power to make her heart race is just as strong. But he’s only passing through and all that’s needed is her signature…Until the rain begins to fall on Karinya Station, and there is nowhere to escape.Could a Christmas peace treaty and a magical few days bring the sparkle back into their marriage?

Quickly, bravely, she said, “For the record, Joe, it isn’t true.”

He turned, looking at her intently. “What do you mean?”

His blue eyes seemed to penetrate all the way to her soul. Her heart began to gallop. She couldn’t back down now that she’d begun.

“What you said before—that I can’t bear the sight of you—it’s not true.” So not true.

“That’s the way it comes across.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Really sorry.”

She could feel the sudden stillness in him, almost as if she’d shot him. He was staring at her, his eyes burning. With doubt?

Ellie’s eyes were stinging. She didn’t want to cry, but she could no longer see the paddocks. Her heart was racing.

She almost told Joe that she actually fancied the sight of him. Very much. Too much. That was her problem. That was why she was tense.

But it was too late for personal confessions. Way too late. Years and years too late.

Instead she said, “I know I’ve been stupidly tense … about . . . everything, but it’s certainly not because I can’t stand the sight of you.” Quite the opposite …

Second Chance

with Her Soldier

Barbara Hannay

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Reading and writing have always been a big part of BARBARA HANNAY’s life. She wrote her first short story at the age of eight for the Brownies’ writer’s badge. It was about a girl who was devastated when her family had to move from the city to the Australian Outback.

Since then, a love of both city and country lifestyles has been a continuing theme in Barbara’s books and in her life. Although she has mostly lived in cities, now that her family has grown up and she’s a full-time writer she’s enjoying a country lifestyle.

Barbara and her husband live on a misty hillside in Far North Queensland’s Atherton Tableland. When she’s not lost in the world of her stories she’s enjoying farmers’ markets, gardening clubs and writing groups, or preparing for visits from family and friends.

Barbara records her country life in her blog, Barbwired, and her website is: www.barbarahannay.com.

Contents

PROLOGUE (#u3baefb1f-0c99-5618-92f6-009db91fd65a)

CHAPTER ONE (#uf563d9b9-af54-5b1a-b90d-70c9f4dbf15a)

CHAPTER TWO (#uc0efef00-80b7-5751-a86f-0ed6cb6bf1a7)

CHAPTER THREE (#ue1949ba4-167e-5c1f-adc2-29924b1c8e17)

CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

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)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

PROLOGUE

CORPORAL JOE MADDEN waited two whole days before he opened the email from his wife.

Avoidance was not Joe’s usual MO. It went against everything he’d learned in his military training. Strike swiftly was the Australian Commandos’ motto, and yet...here he was in Afghanistan, treating a rare message from Ellie as if it were more dangerous than an improvised explosive device.

Looming divorce could do that to a guy.

The fact that Joe had actually offered to divorce Ellie was irrelevant. After too many stormy years of marriage, he’d known that his suggestion was both necessary and fair, but the break-up certainly hadn’t been easy or painless.

Now, in his tiny hut in Tarin Kot, Joe scanned the two other email messages that had arrived from Australia overnight. The first was his aunt’s unhelpful reminder that she never stopped worrying about him. The other was a note from one of his brothers. This, at least, was glib and slightly crude and elicited a wry chuckle from Joe.

But he was left staring at Ellie’s as yet unopened email with its gut-churning subject heading: Crunch Time.

Joe knew exactly what this meant. The final divorce papers had arrived from their solicitor and Ellie was impatient to serve him with them.

Clearly, she was no longer prepared to wait till the end of his four years in the army, even though his reasons for suggesting the delay had been entirely practical.

Joe knew no soldier was safe in Afghanistan, and if he was killed while he and Ellie were still married, she would receive an Army widow’s full entitlements. Financially, at least, she would be OK.

Surely this was important? The worst could so easily happen here. In his frequent deployments, Joe faced daily, if not hourly, danger and he’d already lost two close mates, both of them brilliant, superbly trained soldiers. Death was a real and ever-present danger.

Joe had felt compelled to offer Ellie a safety net, so he’d been reassured to know that, whatever happened to him, she would be financially secure. But, clearly, getting out of their marriage now was more important to her than the long-term benefits.

Hell, she probably had another bloke lined up in the wings. Please, let it be anyone but that damn potato farmer her mother had hand-picked for her.

But, whatever Ellie’s reasons, the evidence of her impatience sat before Joe on the screen.

Crunch Time.

There was no point in avoiding this any longer. The coffee Joe had recently downed turned sour as he grimly clicked on the message.

* * *

It was a stinking-hot day at Karinya Station in Far North Queensland. The paddocks were parched and the cattle hungry as Ellie Madden delivered molasses to the empty troughs. The anxious beasts pushed and shoved at her, trying to knock the molasses barrel out of her hands, so of course she was as sticky and grimy as a candy bar dropped in dirt by the time she arrived back at the homestead.

Her top priority was to hit the laundry and scrub up to her elbows. That done, she strode through the kitchen, grabbed a jug of chilled water from the fridge, filled a glass and gulped it down. Taking another glassful with her to the study, she remained standing in her molasses-smeared jeans as she fired up her laptop.

Tension vibrated and buzzed inside her as the latest messages downloaded. Surely Joe would send his answer today?

She was so sick with apprehension she closed her eyes and held her breath until she heard the ping of the final message’s arrival. When she forced herself to peek at the screen again, she felt an immediate plunge of disappointment.

Nothing from Joe.

Not a word.

For fraught minutes, she stood staring at the screen, as if somehow she could will another email to appear. She hit ‘send and receive’, just to be sure.

Still nothing.

Why hadn’t he replied? What was the hold-up? Even if he’d been out on a patrol, he was usually back at camp within a day or two.

A ripple of fear trembled through her like chilling wind over water.

Surely he couldn’t have been injured? Not Joe.

The Army would have contacted her.

Don’t think about that.

Ever since her husband had joined the Army, Ellie had schooled herself to stomp on negative thoughts. She knew other Army couples had secret ‘codes’ for when they talked about anything dangerous, but she and Joe had lost that kind of closeness long ago. Now she quickly searched for a more likely explanation.

Joe was probably giving her email careful thought. After all, it would have come as a shock, and no doubt he was weighing up the pros and cons of her surprising proposal.

Wanting to reassure herself, Ellie reread the email she’d sent him, just to make sure that it still sounded reasonable.

She’d tried to put her case concisely and directly, keeping it free of emotion, which was only fitting now they’d agreed to divorce. Even so, as she read, she found herself foolishly trying to imagine how Joe would feel as her message unfolded.

Hi Joe,

I hope all is well with you.

I’m writing on a practical matter. I’ve had another invoice from the fertility clinic, you see, and so I’ve been thinking again about the frozen embryos. (Surprise, surprise.)

Joe, I know we signed that form when we started the programme, agreeing that, in the case of divorce, we would donate any of our remaining embryos to another infertile couple. But I’m sorry—I’m having misgivings about that.

I’ve given it a lot of thought, Joe. Believe me, a LOT of thought.

I’d like to believe I would be generous enough to hand over our embryos to a more deserving couple, but I can’t help thinking of those little frozen guys as MY babies.

I’ve thought around and around this, Joe, and I’ve decided that I really do want to have that one last try at IVF. I know you will probably be horrified. You’ll tell me that I’m setting myself up for another round of disappointment. I know this will come as a shock to you, and possibly a disappointment as well.

However, if by some amazing miracle I did become pregnant, I wouldn’t expect to change our plans re the divorce. I promise I wouldn’t try to use the baby to hold on to you, or anything manipulative like that.

As you know from past experience, success is EXTREMELY UNLIKELY, but I can’t go ahead with IVF without your consent and I wouldn’t want to, so obviously I’m very keen to hear your thoughts.

In the meantime, stay safe, Joe.

All the very best,

Ellie

Joe felt as if a grenade had exploded inches from his face.

I know this will come as a shock to you...

Hell, yeah. Never in a million years could he have imagined this possibility...

He’d assumed that the stressful times when he and Ellie had tried for a family were well and truly behind him.

Since he’d left Karinya Station, he hadn’t allowed himself to give a single thought to those few remaining embryos. How many were there? Two? Three?

A heavy weight pressed against his ribs now as he remembered the painful stretch of years when the IVF clinic had dominated his and Ellie’s lives. All their hopes and dreams had been pinned on the embryos. They’d even had a nickname for them.

Their sproglets.

So far, none of them had survived implantation...

The ordeal had been beyond heartbreaking.

Now... Joe had no doubt that Ellie was setting herself up for another round of bitter disappointment. And yet, for a crazy moment he almost felt hope flare inside him, the same hope that had skyrocketed and plunged and kept them on edge through those bleak years of trying.

Even now, Joe couldn’t help feeling hopeful for Ellie’s sake, although he knew that her chances of a successful pregnancy were slimmer than a hair’s breadth. And it stung him to know that she planned to go ahead this time on her own.

Truth was, he didn’t want to think about this. Not any aspect of it. He’d joined the Army to forget his stuffed-up life. Here, he had a visible, assailable enemy to keep him focused day and night.

Now Ellie was forcing him to once again contemplate fatherhood and all its responsibilities. Except, this time, it would be fatherhood in name only. She’d made it very clear that she still wanted the divorce, and Joe totally understood why. So even if there was an against-all-the-odds miracle and he found himself technically a father, his kid would never grow up under his roof.

They would be more or less strangers.

Almost as an accompaniment to this grim thought, an explosion sounded outside, too close for comfort. Through the hut’s window Joe saw bright flashes and smoke, heard frantic voices calling. Another rocket-propelled grenade had dumped—a timely reminder that danger and death were his regular companions.

There was no escaping that and, if he was honest, there was absolutely no point in going over and over this question of Ellie’s. It was a waste of time weighing up the pros and cons of his wife’s request.

Already Joe knew his answer. It was a clear no-brainer.

CHAPTER ONE

Three years later...