Twins For Christmas: A Little Christmas Magic / Lone Star Twins / A Family This Christmas

She had to swallow an unexpected lump in her throat.

‘Do … do we need to send someone to find blankets? It’s s-so cold …’

‘It’s a good thing for Old Jock,’ Adam said. ‘Sometimes we make patients cold deliberately to protect them from the effects of a cardiac arrest.’ He looked away. ‘I’ll take over in a sec, Bryan. Stand clear, both of you, now. I’m going to try another shock.’

Everyone had to be holding their breath to account for the silence that followed after the warning alarm and then the clunk of the machine delivering its charge. They could hear the beat of the approaching helicopter. And then another sound, much closer. A steady blip, blip, blip that was coming from the machine.

‘Is that …?’

‘Aye.’ Adam caught her gaze again. ‘We still need to help him with his breathing but we’ve got a heartbeat.’

There was triumph in those eyes now. Joy even. A ripple ran through the onlookers that suggested pride in their local doctor. Confirmation that their trust in him was not misplaced.

And then the helicopter crew was there, in their bright overalls and with even more equipment. Old Jock was put onto a stretcher.

‘Can you come with us, Doc?’

‘Of course.’ But Adam turned back to Emma. ‘I have no idea when I’ll get home. It could be tricky finding transport back from Edinburgh.’

‘I could come and get you.’

‘What about the children? It’ll be too late to be dragging them out.’

‘I can take the bairns,’ a woman said. ‘It’s no problem.’ She smiled at Emma. ‘I’m Jeannie’s mother. Jeannie’s Poppy’s friend. She’d love to have a sleepover.’

Emma saw the look on Adam’s face. He never asked these people for help, did he? She could understand that he might want to protect his fierce independence but these were his people. They cared about him just as much as he obviously cared about them.

‘Leave it with me,’ she told him. ‘I’ll call you.’

How ironic was it that she was practising the run to the big hospital in Edinburgh, having only made her arrangements with Jack hours before?

Fate seemed to be stepping in again. It had been so easy to arrange care for the children. A very excited Poppy had gone home with Jeannie for the night and Oliver was having his first-ever sleepover at his friend Ben’s house.

It made it easy to ask Adam what she needed to ask, after the initial conversation and reassurance that Jock was getting the best treatment possible had faded into silence.

Thank goodness Adam was driving. Emma had used up every ounce of energy she had and she knew she would fall asleep very soon. Maybe it was sheer exhaustion that stopped her feeling hesitant in making her request.

‘Would it be all right if I had a day off next week? I’ve … got a kind of appointment in Edinburgh that I need to go to.’

‘Of course you can have a day off. You haven’t had one since you came. I keep telling you I can cope at the weekends.’

‘The thing is … it’s a weekday, not the weekend, and I’d need to stay the night. The … ah … appointment’s late so I’d need to wait until the next day to get the train back. It would be fine for the children to stay with their friends again. I … um … checked.’

The sideways look she received was disconcerting. It reminded her of that first time she’d met Adam, when he’d looked at her as if she was the last person he’d want to be looking after his children. The atmosphere in the car suddenly felt like it had on that first day, too, when he’d driven her home and she’d been imagining his wife buried somewhere under the driveway.

It did sound dodgy, didn’t it? A late-night appointment? And it was on a day that would make child care a challenge for him and she’d taken a huge liberty in tentatively making arrangements herself. But she couldn’t tell him the truth or he might realise he had made a mistake in trusting her with his children. That she was sick and … and unreliable.

‘It’s a … job interview …’ she heard herself saying. Unconvincingly? She tried again. ‘Music’s my first love. That’s why I don’t take on full-time or permanent jobs. I’m seeing someone about the possibility of a future gig.’

That wasn’t so far from the truth, was it? It was just about her whole future and not just a gig.

The silence kept growing. Becoming more and more loaded with every passing second, but Adam was being assaulted by unpleasant emotions.

Had he really thought Emma was incapable of lying? It was obvious she was not telling the truth right now. He could hear echoes of Tania.

There’s a sale on … It’s my favourite designer, darling … It’s only for a day … maybe two …

But it wasn’t fair not to trust Emma because of the skill with which Tania had manipulated him.

He wanted to trust her. So much.

And it wasn’t her fault that it was so hard.

Finally—too late—he managed a grunt in response. But he couldn’t meet her eyes. He had to keep staring at the road ahead of them.

‘Do what you need to,’ he growled. ‘I’ll cope.’

Emma woke up as the car jolted over the tree roots on the driveway and, almost instantly, found herself shivering.

It wasn’t just the physical cold, although there was enough snow now for her feet to crunch through it as she followed Adam up the steps to the front door.

This was an emotional chill, too.

Adam McAllister had gone back into his shell, hadn’t he? Back to being the man who never really smiled and who couldn’t bear the celebration of something as joyous as Christmas.

And all because she’d asked for a day off?

No. Emma knew there was more to it than that. Maybe it was the way Adam was avoiding both eye contact and any conversation as they went into the house. Or it could have been the way Bob shot her an almost accusing look before going quietly to his master’s side. Most likely, it was catching sight of the mistletoe wreath that Emma had hung in the corner near the coat stand that made it crystal clear.

This was about the kiss.

About her.

The desire wasn’t one-sided, was it? But Adam didn’t know what to do about it because he was still caught in his grief and she’d just made it clear that she couldn’t wait to move on—to another gig.

For once Adam wasn’t rushing into the kitchen where he’d drop his coat over the back of the nearest chair or on the arm of the sofa. He was taking it off slowly and deliberately and clearly intended hanging it on the rack.

Slowly enough for Emma to have another blinding moment of clarity.

She’d thought she had nothing to offer Adam but she had been wrong.

Catherine would applaud the fact that she’d pushed him into allowing Christmas into his house for the sake of the children but … what if she could give him—give all of them—more than that?

This man deserved to be loved again.

The children desperately needed a mother, not just a series of nannies.

How perfect would it be if it could be her?