One Season And Dynasties Collection

The words she heard chilled her to the bone, and she gestured frantically to Luca for a piece of paper and then started scribbling furiously.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked as she replaced the phone.

‘It’s my grandmother. She’s had a fall at the nursing home—they think she might have broken her hip.’ She started to look around about her, searching for her bag. ‘I need to go. They’ve taken her to another hospital at the other side of the city.’

Luca stood up. ‘What can I do?’

Cassidy started pulling on the cardigan that was draped over her chair. She couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t think at all. The rational parts of her brain had stopped working. Gran was in her eighties and had chest problems. How often did an elderly person have problems with the anaesthetic? What if this was the last time she’d ever see her gran again?

She started to pace up the corridor. ‘Michael, are you there?’

His head ducked out from behind a set of curtains.

‘I’m really sorry but I need to go. It’s an emergency—my gran. They think she might have broken her hip.’

‘Of course, Cassidy. No problem.’

‘You’ve got the keys to the drug trolley, haven’t you? Here’s the controlled-drug key.’ She unpinned it from inside her uniform pocket. ‘Can you let Lucy, Sister Burns from next door, know that I’ve had to leave?’ She was babbling and she knew it.

‘Cassidy, we’ll be fine. I’ll get some help from next door if we need it. And I won’t start transferring any patients until after lunch.’ He gave her a quick hug, then placed a hand firmly at her back. ‘Now, go.’

His pager sounded again, and Brad growled and rolled over. ‘I’m sleeping. I’m not on call any more. Leave me alone,’ he groaned.

But the pager wasn’t listening. It sounded again. And again. And again.

Brad was mad. Last night had been ridiculous. He hadn’t stopped—not even for a minute. And on the way to work last night his Mini had made the strangest sound then phutted to a stop at the side of the road. And all he wanted to do this morning was lie in his bed and vegetate.

He flung back the covers, squinting at the light coming through the blinds, and lifted the pager to his scrunched-up eyes.

‘Call Joe immediately.’

All of a sudden he was wide awake, his heart thumping in his chest. Joe Scott was his very expensive, US private investigator. He emailed Brad every few weeks, telling him any leads he was following and how he was getting on.

They had an understanding. Joe knew that Brad was a doctor, frequently on call, and had agreed that Joe would only contact Brad via his pager if something significant turned up. It had seemed the easiest solution as messages to a busy hospital could be lost, and depending on his rota sometimes Brad could be away from his house and normal emails for a few days at a time.

He reached for his phone, pushing in the number that was ingrained there.

‘Joe, it’s Brad Donovan. What have you found?’

‘Haven’t you read the email I sent you? I sent you some photographs.’

It took a few seconds for Brad’s ears to adjust to the American accent. Email. He hadn’t looked at his emails for two days.

He moved automatically to his laptop, his bare feet padding across the floor. It took for ever to boot up.

‘I’m just opening the email now, Joe,’ he said. ‘Give me a few minutes.’ He wasn’t sure what was waking him up more quickly—the shock phone call or the cold air.

The email took for ever to open. He could sense Joe waiting impatiently at the other end of the phone. He didn’t even read the content, just clicked on one of the attached photographs.

There she was. Blonde ringlets framing her face, dressed in a green puffy coat, throwing back her head and laughing. It was a beautiful sight.

‘Is it her?’ The US voice cut into his thoughts.

For a moment he couldn’t speak. She’d grown so much. She looked like a proper little girl now—a little lady even, rather than a toddler. His eyes swept the surrounding area. Alison was standing in the background, holding a baby. She was laughing, too. Melody was positioned on the pebbled shoreline of a lake and was clutching stones in her hands.

He tried not to let the rage overwhelm him. He couldn’t let that get in the way right now. This was the first time he’d laid eyes on his little girl in nearly two years.

‘Brad? Are you there?’ The voice was strained now, obviously worried by his lack of response.

‘Yes,’ he croaked. ‘It’s Melody.’ There was an unfamiliar sensation overwhelming him right now. It was a mixture of relief, joy, bitterness and excitement.

‘Great. I was sure I’d found them, but needed you to confirm it.’

Brad’s mind started to race. His eyes couldn’t move from the photograph. They looked to be out in the middle of nowhere.

‘Where are they?’

‘North Woods, Wisconsin. Lots of hills and dense woods, terrible phone and internet reception. Took the photo two days ago. You were right about Alison, she got married. Her name is now Alison Johnson. Married to Blane Johnson—a paediatrician in Wisconsin—and they have a baby daughter, Temperance.’

Brad could tell he was reading from the notes in front of him. But he didn’t care. He still couldn’t believe it. And the picture was crystal clear. Not some blurry snap, which he might have expected. He could almost reach out and touch her. Did she remember him? Did she remember she had a dad who loved her very much?

His fingers brushed the screen. She looked happy. She looked healthy. Part of him gave a little sigh of relief. His daughter was alive, happy and healthy. For any parent, that should be the most important thing.

He was trying so hard to keep a lid on his feelings. He’d spent the last two years thinking about what he’d do when he found her. Thoughts of taking his time and trying to contact Alison separately, engaging a lawyer, getting advice on his legal rights in another country, finding out about extradition from that particular state in the US. And now all those rational, sensible thoughts were flying out the window.

Something registered in his brain—geography had never been his strong point. ‘Where is it? Where’s North Woods, Wisconsin?’

He heard Joe let out a guffaw. ‘I thought you might ask that. Not the most straightforward place to get to. For you, the nearest international airports are Minnesota or Chicago. I don’t think you can get a flight from Glasgow to either of them direct. Probably best to fly from Glasgow via Amsterdam and then Chicago. I’ll make arrangements for you from there. Just let me know if you’re coming into O’Hare or Midway International.’

Brad nodded. Chicago—some place that he’d heard of. He’d be able to find a flight there. ‘I’ll get online now. I’ll get the quickest flight out that I can. Give me a couple of hours and I’ll email you back the details.’

‘No problem, son. See you soon.’

Brad put down the phone. His hands were shaking. He clicked into the rest of the email. There were four photographs. Two pictures of Alison with her baby and two of Melody. She was still his little girl. She had his blond hair and blue eyes. She even had his smile. And if he played his cards right, he would get to see her again.

He quickly dialled another number he had in his phone. A US attorney he’d been put in touch with who specialised in family law. Best to get some advice before he set foot on US soil. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a scene and get deported.

His brain whirring, he opened a travel website to search for flights. Only one from Glasgow. Leaving in six hours. He didn’t hesitate. A few clicks and he was booked. He’d already been to the US in the last two years and knew his machine-readable passport meant he didn’t need a visa.

This was it—he was finally going to see his daughter again.

Then something else hit him. Cassidy. He had to tell Cassidy.

He looked at the clock. It wouldn’t take him long to pack. He groaned as he remembered his Mini still abandoned at the side of the road. He could get a taxi to the airport. But he couldn’t leave without speaking to Cassidy first. It took a few minutes to wrap up his call to the lawyer then he pulled on his jogging trousers and trainers. He could run up the hill to the hospital. Cassidy would be on the ward. He could speak to her there.

He remembered that look on her face in the restaurant. She’d worried about this moment. And to be honest, he’d reached the stage that he’d wondered if this would ever happen.

And now it had.

And he had to go.

But he wouldn’t go without speaking to Cassidy. Without reassuring her that he would come back for her. He loved his daughter with his whole heart. But he loved Cassidy, too, and he wanted her to be a part of his life. He looked over to the table where he had an array of little gifts organised for her—all to be placed in the pockets of the calendar. He would do that once he got back from the hospital.

First he had to reassure her. First, he had to tell her that he loved her.

‘Where is she?’

‘Where’s who?’ Michael was in the middle of drawing up some heparin. ‘Who are you looking for?’

‘Cassidy, of course!’ Who did that big oaf think he would be looking for? He was out of breath, panting.

He wasn’t really dressed for the cold, with just a T-shirt and tracksuit top in place, and the run up the hill in the biting cold hadn’t helped.

Michael’s face paled a little. ‘Oh, I take it you haven’t heard?’

‘Haven’t heard what?’ Brad’s frustration was growing by the second.

‘Cassidy had to leave. Her gran had a fall in the nursing home and they thought she might have broken her hip. They are taking her to the Wallace Hospital—on the other side of the city. Cassidy left about an hour ago.’

Brad felt the air whoosh out from him. He pulled out his phone and started dialling her number. But it connected directly to her voice mail.

‘Not supposed to use that in here,’ muttered Michael.

Brad grabbed his arm. ‘How far away is the Wallace? How would I get there at this time of day?’ This was the worst possible time for his car to die.

Michael frowned. ‘You in a hurry?’

Brad nodded. ‘I need to see Cassidy, speak to the boss and arrange a few days off, then get to the airport.’

‘You are joking, aren’t you?’ Michael’s eyebrows were raised.

‘No. No, I’m not. Give me some directions.’

Michael shook his head. ‘At this time of day it will be a bit of a nightmare. You’d need to take the clockwork orange …’

‘The what?’

‘The underground. That’s what we call it around here. You’d need to take the clockwork orange to Cessnock and then get the bus to the hospital. It’ll take you about an hour.’ He looked at the clock on the wall opposite. ‘What time do you need to get to the airport?

Because you’ll need to get a train to Paisley for that. Then a bus to the airport.’

Brad’s head was currently mush. There was no way he was going to get across the city—find Cassidy in a strange hospital, get back, pack and get to the airport in time.

He threw up his hands in frustration and left the hospital, walking back down the hill towards his flat.

He tried her phone again three times and sent her two text messages—but it was obvious she had her phone switched off. What could he do?

He got back home and pulled the biggest suitcase he had from the wardrobe and started throwing things inside. Jeans, jumpers, boots, T-shirts—anything he could think of.

He sat down and tried her phone again. Straight to voice mail. ‘Cassidy—it’s Brad. I heard about your gran. I’m really sorry and I hope she’s okay. I really, really need to speak to you and I don’t want to do it over the phone. Please phone me back as soon as you get this message. Please …’ He hesitated for a second. ‘I love you, Cass.’

He put the phone down. A wave of regret was washing over him. The first time he told her he loved her should have been when he was staring into her big brown eyes—not leaving a message on a phone. But he needed to let her know how he felt. She had to know how much she meant to him.

He looked at the rest of the items on the table. Her flat was only five minutes away—he could go around now and put them in the calendar for her. He could also take some time to write her a letter and explain what had happened. That way, if he didn’t get to speak to her, she’d know he’d never meant to leave like this.

He looked at the clock again. Did he really not have the time to get to the other side of the city and back? His heart fell. He knew he didn’t. Latest check-in time at the airport was two hours before his flight left. He would never make it. This was the only flight to Chicago that left in the next three days. He had to be on it. The chance to see his daughter again was just too important. He’d waited too long for this moment. He couldn’t put this off, no matter how much he wanted to see Cassidy.

He picked up the items from the table and grabbed his keys. He had to try and make this right.

Cassidy leaned back against the wall. The cool hospital concrete was freezing, cutting straight through her thin top, but she welcomed it as she felt completely frazzled. Six hours after she’d got here, her gran was finally being wheeled to Theatre. Her hip was definitely fractured and she was in pain. The orthopaedic surgeon had tried to put her off until the next day, but he hadn’t met Cassidy Rae before.

She’d waited until she was sure her gran had disappeared along the corridor to Theatre before she started rummaging around her bag. She badly needed a coffee. Her mobile clattered to the floor as she tried to find her purse.

She picked it up and switched it back on. It had sounded earlier in the A and E department and one of the staff had told her to switch it off. The phone buzzed back into life and started to beep constantly.

Text message from Brad. ‘Phone me.’

Another text message from Brad. ‘Phone me as soon as you get this.’

Text message. Two voice-mail messages.

Cassidy felt her heart start to flutter in her chest. She hadn’t managed to phone Brad since her gran’s accident. Was he worried about her? Or was it something else?

She walked along the corridor and out of the main door, standing to one side and pressing the phone to her ear. She listened to the first message. What on earth was wrong? What didn’t he want to say on the phone? Her brain started to panic so much she almost missed the end of the message. ‘I love you.’

Brad had just told her he loved her. On the phone. And while she wanted the warm feeling to spread throughout her body, she couldn’t help feeling something was wrong. His voice—the tone of it.

Had something happened to him? She pressed for the next message.

‘Cassidy, honey, I’m so sorry. I really wanted to speak to you. I’ve left you a letter at home—it explains everything. I will be back, I promise. And I’ll phone you as soon as I get there. And I’ll email you as soon as I get near a computer. I love you, Cassidy.’

Get back from where? Her fingers scrolled for his name and pressed ‘dial’. It rang and then diverted to voice mail. His phone must be switched off.

Where was he?

Her agitation was rising. She didn’t need this right now. Her gran was in Theatre. She should be concentrating on that. And he should be here with her, helping her through this. Where was he?

She sent him a quick text. ‘Still at hospital with Gran. What’s going on? Won’t be home for a few hours.’

Maybe he’d been called into work again? Maybe that was it. But something inside her didn’t agree.

She walked back inside. There was nothing she could do right now. She had to stay here and be with her gran. There was no telling how she’d be when she woke from her anaesthetic. Cassidy wanted to be close.

And no matter how much she wanted to know what was going on with Brad, he’d just have to wait.

CHAPTER NINE

20 December

THE alarm sounded and Cassidy groaned and thumped the reset button with her hand. Even stretching out from under the warm duvet for a second was too cold. She heard a little muffled sound and seconds later felt a little draught at the bottom of the duvet.

Bert. The alarm had woken him and he was cold, too, so he’d sneaked into the bottom of her bed just as he’d done for the last ten days.

Ten days. Two hundred and forty hours—no, it had actually been forty-seven hours since she’d last spoken to Brad.

Sometimes when she woke in the morning—just for a millisecond—she thought everything was all right again. But then she remembered he was gone, searching for his daughter in North-blooming-Woods, Wisconsin. She’d had to look the place up on the internet—she didn’t even know where it was.

By the time she’d got back from the hospital that night, Brad’s flight had been in the air for four hours. He was long gone.

And although it helped just a little that he’d tried to contact her and that he’d left her a letter, it didn’t take away from the fact that he’d gone. Just like that. At the drop of a hat.

She knew she was being unreasonable. He’d waited nearly two years to find his daughter—of course he should go. But her heart wasn’t as rational as her head tried to be.

Her heart was broken in two.

What if he never came back? What if the only way he could have contact with his daughter was to stay in Wisconsin? What if he fell back in love with Melody’s mother?

Every irrational thought in the world had circulated in her mind constantly for the last ten days and nights. Even Bert wasn’t helping.

He kept looking at the door and sniffing around Brad’s shoes in the hope he would reappear again.

She had to be the unluckiest woman in the world. Twice Brad had phoned her mobile—and both times she had missed his call. Both times she’d been working and both times she’d been with a patient.

He’d phoned the ward one day but she hadn’t been on duty. And when he’d phoned the flat she’d been visiting her gran, who was still in hospital.

Every time she tried to call him back she’d received an ‘unobtainable’ signal.

He’d warned her. He’d warned her that North Woods was aptly named, surrounded by thick woods and hills with poor reception for mobiles and internet connections.

He’d sent two emails letting her know that he’d contacted a family lawyer and made contact with Alison. After some fraught negotiations he’d been allowed supervised access to see Melody twice. They were currently stuck in the land of legal mumbo-jumbo, trying to figure out the parental rights of two Australians in the US. Alison was covered—she’d married an American. But Brad’s position was more difficult, particularly when he was officially only on ‘holiday’.

It didn’t help that his lawyer was advising him to look at extradition since Melody had been removed from Australia without permission.

She really, really wanted to talk to him.

She wanted to hear his voice, feel his arms around her, feel his body pressed next to hers. Particularly now. A warm dog around her feet might be nice, but it just didn’t cut it.

She didn’t even feel festive any more. Her favourite time of year had been blighted by the fact the man she loved was on the other side of the Atlantic. The flight had taken fourteen hours to reach Chicago, and then another few for the air transfer to North Woods. It wasn’t exactly the easiest place to get to. And it wouldn’t be the easiest place to get home from either.

But as soon as he did, she knew what she was going to do. She knew what she was going to say. This forced separation had clarified everything for her. She’d made up her mind.

Now all she could do was wait.

Brad’s heart was in his mouth. His little girl seemed completely unfazed by him. Alison was another matter entirely.

Ten days of trying to keep his temper in check. Ten days of biting back all the things he really, really wanted to say.

Once she’d got over the initial shock, Alison had been shamed into a visit at his lawyer’s office. She’d brought her husband along, who seemed equally outraged that Brad had dared to appear into their lives in North Woods, Wisconsin.

It hadn’t taken long for his lawyer to go through the legal aspects of removing a child from another country without parental consent. Alison’s lawyer had been surprisingly quiet and encouraged his client to agree in principle to some short supervised access spells.

He’d been here ten days and had spent three hours with his daughter.

He’d also spent innumerable hours trying to contact Cassidy back home.

Home? Scotland?

In Brad’s mind right now, home was wherever Cassidy was. Wherever they could be together. He wanted to spend hours on the phone to her, talking through things with her and telling her how he felt.

But North Woods didn’t seem to be a place with normal communication methods in mind—and to be fair, Joe, his private detective, had warned him about this. In theory, he would have managed to co-ordinate time differences, shift patterns and visiting schedules. But reality was much harder. Right now it seemed as if an old-fashioned carrier pigeon would be more effective than modern-day technology.

He glanced at his watch. Time for another visit. Time to see his gorgeous blonde, curly-headed daughter, who could skim stones across the lake like a professional. Time to get the wheels in motion to learn about more permanent types of access. Time to set up an agreed method of communication between them all. One that meant he could talk to his beautiful daughter without having to face the minefield that was her mother.

Time to get his life in order.

22 December

A Christmas bride. That’s what smelly-cat woman had told her. Was there any chance she could go and demand her twenty quid back?

Right now it felt as if she’d been conned. False pretences. That’s what they called it. But she’d never heard of a fortune-teller being sued. Just as well she’d never believed any of it.

Cassidy tugged her thick black boots on, trying to ignore the trickle of water inside that instantly soaked through her sock. There was about three feet of snow outside. It had been the same last night when she’d come home from work.

If she’d been organised—or cared enough—she would have stuffed her already soaked boots with newspaper and stuck them under the radiator. Instead, she’d flung them across the room and fallen into bed instantly.

She couldn’t even be bothered to prepare something to eat. Her cupboards were a disgrace. Oh, if she wanted chocolate or crisps or bakery items like chocolate éclairs or cupcakes, she was fine. If she wanted anything substantial to eat, she was well and truly snookered.

Cassidy pulled on a cardigan, her gran’s red wool coat and a black furry hat. It shouldn’t take too long to get up the hill to the hospital. Her only problem would be if the pavement hadn’t been gritted. Yesterday she’d picked up three people who’d slipped, trying to climb the hill, and caught another as he’d almost slid past her.

Maybe a coffee would help? A skinny caramel latte would be perfect.

She gave Bert a pat on the way out—even he was too intelligent to want to go out in this weather.

The cold air instantly stung her cheeks. Snow was starting to fall again already. Within a few hours there could easily be another few feet on the ground. Getting home again would be a nightmare.

The aroma caught her. The smell of a freshly prepared caramel latte. She closed her eyes. Heaven on earth.

‘Cassidy?’

The voice stopped her in her tracks. It was quiet. Like a question. Unsure, uncertain.

‘Brad!’

She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t care who was in the street around them. She didn’t worry about the slippery pavement covered in snow beneath her feet. She launched herself at him.