Marrying the Runaway Bride

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‘I shall. Thank you.’

Another smile and she made her escape. However, as she went back to the little girl’s bed, Heather felt a new lightness in her spirit. For the past few weeks she had done nothing but berate herself for the mess she’d made of things and it was a relief not to feel guilty for a change.

She sighed because it would be stupid to get carried away by Archie’s kindness. She had every reason to feel guilty when she had let so many people down. It hadn’t been only Ross who’d been affected by her decision not to go ahead with the wedding, but both their families as well. Her father in particular had been terribly distressed. He seemed to believe that he was to blame in some way, but that wasn’t true.

Matthew Thompson had done everything he could to make sure that Heather had been safe and happy since her mother had died so tragically after suffering a stroke. Heather had been fifteen at the time and she had been devastated by her mother’s death. Her father had been, too, but he had focused all his energy on helping Heather come to terms with her loss.

It had brought them even closer so that Heather had had no hesitation about taking a job in Dalverston after she’d finished her nursing degree. Her father had supported her for all those years and she’d wanted to be there for him, too. Ross’s mother had been a partner at the general practice her father had run for a number of years, and when Ross had completed his GP training, he had joined the practice as well.

It had been inevitable that she and Ross would end up spending time together and eventually they had drifted into a relationship. Both sets of parents had approved and Heather had taken it as a sign that they were meant to be together. It had only been as the wedding had drawn nearer that she’d started having doubts and even then she hadn’t acted on them until it had been almost too late.

She had caused a lot of hurt and unhappiness for the people who loved her, and now she had to make up for it by learning to stand on her own two feet. Moving to London could turn out to be a mistake but it would be up to her to deal with it. No matter how kind Archie Carew had been to her, she wouldn’t turn to him again for help.

CHAPTER THREE

IT WAS almost nine p.m. by the time Archie finally made it home and he was exhausted. Working fifteen hours straight was no joke, especially when it had been after midnight before he’d gone to bed the previous night. He went straight to the kitchen and raided the fridge. All he could find was a lump of slightly mouldy cheese and a tomato but it would have to do. He definitely wasn’t heading out again to find himself something else to eat.

He made cheese on toast, slicing the tomato on the top so that he could ease his conscience by telling himself he was eating at least one of the requisite portions of fruit and veg he was supposed to consume each day. He ate in the kitchen because the dining-room table was piled up with cartons. He had been planning to do some more packing that night, but after he had finished his supper, he couldn’t face it.

He made himself a cup of instant coffee and retired to the sitting room, glad that at least he had something to sit on. He had packed away all the ornaments and pictures so the room looked very bare but at least he had a seat. Slumping down on the sofa, he sipped his coffee, grimacing at the powdery aftertaste it left on his tongue. Although he was quite an accomplished cook, he never bothered cooking nowadays. There was no one to share a meal with and that took all the pleasure out of it.

The thought immediately reminded him of Stephanie and he sighed. He tried not to think about her too often but it wasn’t easy. Before the accident his future had been all mapped out, and mapped out the way he had always dreamed it would be, too. He’d had a job he’d loved and a woman he’d wanted to spend his life with. He had been perfectly happy with his lot until his world had fallen apart.

Archie stood up, too restless to sit there while the thoughts ran like rats around his brain. Going over to the bureau, he opened a drawer and took out an old chocolate box. He had been meaning to sort through it for weeks but each time he’d put off doing it because it had been too painful. However, he was already upset so he may as well get it over with now.

He sat down and emptied the contents of the box onto the cushion beside him. There were dozens of photographs along with other mementoes of his life with Stephanie. He picked up a programme for the ballet, smiling ruefully as he recalled how angry Stephanie had been when he had fallen asleep during the performance. Next came a single ticket for the opera—he’d had to miss the show when he’d been called into work. Then there was an out-of-date train ticket for an aborted trip by Eurostar to Paris—Stephanie had gone by herself in the end as he’d been too busy.

Archie frowned as he continued to delve through the remnants of their life together. There’d been an awful lot of occasions when he had let Stephanie down. Work had always been his number one priority and everything else had come a poor second, including Stephanie. Was it any wonder, really, that she’d sought solace with someone else?

He picked up another photograph, feeling pain tug at his heart as he studied the smiling faces of the people in it. It had been taken a couple of years ago when he, Stephanie and his brother, Duncan, had spent some time together at the family estate in Scotland. Stephanie had stayed on when he’d had to return to London and he’d thought nothing of it at the time.

Now he couldn’t help wondering if that had been when his fiancée had fallen in love with his brother, after he had abandoned her for the umpteenth time. It was one more reason to feel guilty, another reason why he needed to make amends for what he had done. If he had paid more attention to what had been going on around him, Stephanie and Duncan might not have died.

It was gone four in the morning when Charlie Maguire suffered a second heart attack. Heather grabbed the crash trolley and raced to his bed. Marion had already started CPR and she looked up when Heather appeared.

‘Plug that in then phone the switchboard and ask them to page Mike. We need him back here, stat!’

‘Will do.’

Heather flew to the phone and dialled the switchboard. ‘It’s Heather from Paeds,’ she said as soon as the operator answered. ‘Can you page Dr Mike Bridges, please? We need him here urgently.’

She hung up after the operator confirmed her request. Some of the other children had woken up now, disturbed by all the commotion, so she made her way around the ward, doing her best to settle them down. Marion and the other nurse on duty that night, Abby Connor, were working on Charlie, but it was a relief when the registrar arrived. He headed straight to the boy’s bed, looking very grim when Marion explained what had happened.

‘We’ll shock him and see if that works. I’ll need some adrenaline—can someone sort that out for me, please?’

‘I’ll do it,’ Heather offered immediately.

Mike told her the dosage while Marion gave her the keys to the drugs trolley. When she got back, the team had defibrillated Charlie’s heart once and were about to perform the procedure a second time because there was still no output. Heather found herself willing the child to respond as the paddles were once again placed on his chest.

‘Clear!’ Mike rapped out.

Everyone held their breath as another charge of electricity shot through the boy’s body, but there was still nothing on the monitor apart from a flat green line. Mike turned to her and she could see the worry on his face as he took the drugs from her.

‘Get onto Archie. Tell him what’s happened and that it’s not looking good.’

‘Of course,’ Heather agreed, hiding her surprise because in her experience it wasn’t usual to phone a consultant during the night.

She hurried to the phone again and found Archie’s number listed with all the others. She keyed it in and waited anxiously for him to pick up. If anyone could help Charlie, it was Archie—he would know what to do in any crisis.

She bit her lip because she really shouldn’t be thinking along such lines. It would be only too easy to see Archie as her saviour as well and that wouldn’t do. She cleared her throat when a sleepy male voice mumbled hello.

‘I’m sorry to bother you, Mr Carew, but Mike Bridges asked me to phone you. Charlie Maguire has had a second myocardial infarction and we’re having problems stabilising him.’

‘How long ago did it happen?’ he demanded, instantly alert. Heather had a quick mental flash of him dragging himself up out of bed and just as quickly dismissed it. She couldn’t afford to get sidetracked.

‘Roughly five minutes.’

‘Right. I’m on my way. Tell Dr Bridges to continue CPR until I get there.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Heather replied, responding automatically to the authority in his voice.

‘Thank you, Heather,’ he said quietly before the line went dead.

Heather’s hand was trembling as she gently replaced the receiver on its rest. Although she hadn’t introduced herself, Archie must have recognised her voice and it gave her a funny feeling inside to realise that. As she went to relay his message to the others, Heather found herself smiling before she realised how stupid she was being to set any store by it. Archie was only going to feature in her life for as long she worked here. He certainly wasn’t going to play any part in her future.

‘Is everyone agreed, then?’

Archie looked at the group assembled around Charlie Maguire’s bed and saw the same expressions on their faces that must have been on his own. Despite all their efforts, they’d been unable to resuscitate the boy and his death had upset them all.

‘Time of death 5:13,’ he said when they all nodded. ‘Thank you for everything you did. I’m only sorry it didn’t work out in the end.’

He pushed the curtain aside, feeling despondency weighing down on him as he made his way to the office. Losing a child was always a heartbreaking experience but it had become even more difficult since Duncan and Stephanie had died. It was hard to accept that so many lives should be cut short far too soon.

Heather was in the office; she looked up when he went in and he saw her expression change when he shook his head. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, her voice catching, and Archie had to swallow when he felt a lump come to his throat. He could tell that she’d truly meant what she’d said and that it hadn’t been just a polite expression of regret. It touched him deeply, far more deeply than it should have done, in fact.

‘We all are,’ he said shortly, because breaking down wasn’t an option. ‘Have the parents arrived yet?’

‘Yes. They’re in the relatives’ room.’ She was all business once more and Archie was suddenly sorry that he had been so short with her.

‘Right. I’ll have a word with them, then.’ He turned to the door, stopped, walked another step, then swung round. ‘Look, I didn’t mean to snap at you, but it always hits me hard whenever we lose a child.’

He gave her a tight smile, wondering why he felt that he had to explain himself. He wouldn’t have done so under normal circumstances, yet for some reason he didn’t want Heather to get the wrong idea. ‘I can’t afford to get too emotional when I need to speak to Charlie’s family.’

‘I understand.’ Her eyes filled with compassion as she looked at him. ‘I don’t think it’s possible to do this job unless you care, but it’s hard, isn’t it, when something like this happens? It makes you remember the people you have lost, too.’

‘It does,’ he said quietly, then left before he was tempted to say anything else. It seemed his suspicions had been correct. However, he knew that asking Heather whom she had lost would be a mistake at the moment. It would only lead to him telling her about Duncan and he didn’t think he could cope with that right now.

He made his way to the relatives’ room and spoke to the boy’s parents. It was every bit as bad as he had expected and he was emotionally wrung out after he finished. He made sure the parents knew that they could sit with Charlie for as long as they wanted to, then asked Marion to escort them to a side room. Charlie would be taken there from the ward so the family could have some privacy. Sorting out such details was all part and parcel of his job, but it was so much more than mere routine and he would never be able to treat it as such. Mind you, he wouldn’t have to after he returned to Scotland. Maybe that was the plus side of giving up his job?

He tried to put a positive spin on the thought but he was all out of optimism. The cloud of gloom that had been hanging over him seemed to intensify as he went back to the ward and had a word with Mike, who was equally despondent. Archie assured him that he had done everything he could, but he knew his registrar didn’t believe him and that Mike wouldn’t have been half the doctor he was if he had done. As Heather had said, you had to care otherwise you couldn’t do this job properly.

As though thinking about her had conjured her up, she suddenly appeared. It was just gone six a.m. and she was on her way home. Archie frowned as he watched her button up her coat as she hurried along the corridor. Was that it, then? Was she going to leave and disappear for good? He had no idea if she was booked to work at the hospital again. Some agency staff did full weeks, others preferred to do the odd session here and there, and he had no idea which category she fell into. However, the thought that she might walk out of the door and that would be the last he saw her of her was very hard to swallow.

Archie wasn’t sure what his intentions were when he found himself following her. He wasn’t even sure if it was a good idea but that didn’t stop him. He put on a spurt when he saw her get into the lift but the doors closed before he could reach it.

He took the stairs instead, two at a time, careering down them as though a pack of hungry hounds was snapping at his heels. Heather was already leaving the building by the time he exited the stairwell so he raced after her, then had to stop when he reached the main door to let an elderly woman pass through ahead of him. He helped the old lady manoeuvre her walking frame inside then set off again—down the steps, across the car park, out into the street…

He ground to a halt when he spotted Heather standing at the bus stop. Quite frankly, he wasn’t sure what came next. Should he go over and tell her that he would like to see her again, maybe even ask her out? Bearing in mind recent events, did he really think she would accept?

Archie groaned when he realised how stupid it was to imagine that Heather might be interested in seeing him again. She had just run out on her wedding and going out with him would be the last thing on her mind!

It should have been the last thing on his mind, too. In a few weeks’ time he would be moving to Scotland and he would have enough on his plate, learning how to run the estate. He’d never taken much interest in it before—that had been Duncan’s prerogative. As the elder son, Duncan had always known that he would become Laird one day and had planned his life accordingly. Whereas some people might have felt aggrieved that they would never inherit either the title or the land, Archie had felt relieved. It had meant that he could follow his dream and become a doctor, but all that had changed on Duncan’s death. Now he was Laird and he had responsibilities to go with the title. He would be far too busy in the coming months to take on anything else.

He was still chewing it all over when Heather suddenly glanced round and spotted him. In that instant he knew that, no matter how crazy it was, he couldn’t let her get on the bus and disappear from his life for good. He would be constantly wondering what had happened to her and he couldn’t bear it.

He made his way over to her, feeling his insides judder when she gave him a tentative smile. Despite the busy night, she looked so beautiful as she stood there in the grey morning light that he’d have needed a heart of stone not to be aware of it. It was an effort to remember that neither of them was in a position to go looking for romance and behave accordingly.

‘Hi. I spotted you leaving and wondered if you fancied having breakfast with me.’ He pointed across the road. ‘The café over there does the best breakfasts in London. Can I tempt you?’

CHAPTER FOUR

‘THANK you.’

Heather waited while the waitress arranged her cutlery in front of her. She still wasn’t sure why she had accepted Archie’s invitation. After all, what was the point of spending any time with him? Although she had agreed to work at the hospital for the next few weeks, she wouldn’t stay on after that. It would be silly to get involved with him when there was no future for them.

She drew herself up short. Archie had offered to buy her breakfast, not suggest they should have an affair! Colour rushed to her face and she snatched up her cup of coffee to hide her discomfort.

‘Hmm. You can’t beat a decent cup of coffee.’ Archie inhaled deeply as he savoured the aroma, then grinned at her. ‘This is the point where I should really stand up and confess.’

‘Confess,’ Heather repeated blankly.

‘Uh-huh.’ He pushed back his chair and stood up. There was a smile twitching the corners of his mouth as he recited solemnly, ‘My name is Archie and I’m a coffee addict.’

Heather chuckled, appreciating the fact that he could make fun of himself that way. ‘Your secret is safe. There’s just me and a couple of dozen other people in here who’ve witnessed your confession.’

‘That’s all right, then.’ He resumed his seat and smiled at her. ‘It was worth outing myself just to hear you laugh.’

Heather sighed. ‘There hasn’t been much to laugh about recently.’

‘I can imagine. Life must have been pretty difficult for you these past couple of months.’

‘It has.’ She shrugged, wondering how much she should tell him. It was her problem and she had to deal with it herself. However, the thought of being able to share some of the heartache with him was too tempting to resist. ‘I hurt a lot of people and it isn’t easy to deal with that thought.’

‘Have you made your peace with your exfiancé?’ he enquired, his green eyes filling with sympathy.

‘Not really.’ Heather grimaced as she felt a wave of guilt rise up inside her. ‘I haven’t actually spoken to Ross yet. I know I should have done, but I had no idea what to say to him. I sent him a letter, apologising for what I was doing, but it really wasn’t enough. I’ll have to speak to him at some point and I can only hope he’ll forgive me.’

‘I imagine he’s had time to think things through by now and realised you made the right decision.’ Archie shrugged when she looked at him in surprise. ‘I can’t believe he didn’t know that something wasn’t right. His gut instinct must have told him that you weren’t happy.’

‘I don’t know about that. Ross isn’t big on following his instincts. He’s always very much in control—knows exactly what he wants from life and goes for it.’ She shook her head when she realised how that may have sounded. ‘That wasn’t meant as a criticism. Ross is just very single-minded and doesn’t allow anything to stand in his way. It’s one of the things I’ve always admired about him, in fact.’

‘Do you think he’ll find it hard to accept that you changed your mind about marrying him?’

‘I suppose the truthful answer is that I don’t know. I can’t see him falling apart, though, if that’s what you mean. It just isn’t in his nature.’ She sighed. ‘My father will have a harder time accepting what’s happened. He was terribly upset, blamed himself for pushing me and Ross together. He wouldn’t listen when I tried to explain that it was my fault, not his.’

Tears welled in her eyes and Archie reached across the table and squeezed her hand. ‘I’m sure your father will get over it in time, Heather.’

‘I hope so.’

Fortunately, their breakfast arrived just then. Heather had opted for scrambled eggs on toast but Archie had ordered the full works—bacon, eggs, sausages, tomatoes, mushrooms, fried bread—and he tucked in with relish.

‘Hungry?’ Heather said drolly, scooping up a forkful of buttery eggs.

‘Ravenous.’ He popped a chunk of sausage into his mouth, chewed and swallowed, then smiled at her. ‘The only thing left in the fridge last night was a lump of cheese and a tomato so supper wasn’t exactly a cordon bleu experience.’

‘Don’t tell me that you’re one of those men who can’t tell a frying pan from a Frisbee,’ she accused him, picking up a triangle of toast.

‘The frying pan’s the one with the handle, isn’t it?’ he replied with a wicked little chuckle.

Heather felt her heart give the oddest little leap and hastily averted her eyes from his laughing face. For some reason she felt all jittery inside and she couldn’t understand it. She bit off a corner of toast then stole a glance at him, feeling shock ripple along her veins when she realised all of a sudden how good-looking he was. She hadn’t paid much attention to how Archie looked before, mainly because she’d had other things on her mind, but suddenly she was seeing him as a man, and a very attractive one, too.

Facts tumbled over themselves as her brain rushed to log them. He was tall, over six feet, and well built, too, with a muscular chest and broad shoulders. His face was craggy rather than conventionally handsome, his features very masculine with those strong, uncompromising lines. His eyes were gorgeous, a clear deep green framed by dark brown lashes. His hair was the same rich brown colour, thick and glossy as it fell across his forehead. A mouth that had a tendency to curl upwards at the slightest excuse completed the picture. All things considered, Archie Carew was a man whom any woman would be happy to be seen with, and she was no exception.

Heather took a quick little breath as that thought wriggled its way into her head. She was happy to be there with Archie, very happy indeed.

Archie wasn’t sure what Heather was thinking as she stared at him across the table. He cleared his throat, uncomfortable at finding himself on the end of such an intent scrutiny, and saw her jump. There was a touch of colour in her cheeks as she applied herself to her breakfast that intrigued him, although he wasn’t going to make the mistake of asking her what was wrong. He didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.