A Home For Her Baby

She’s looking for a future...

But he can’t forget the past

Danger is a part of everyday life for fisherman Tom Roberts, but nothing prepares him for the loss of his brother—or the role Ali Nicholas plays in the tragedy. Struggling between grief and his feelings for Ali, Tom’s heart is divided. Then Ali learns she’s pregnant... Can the baby help Tom and Ali find forgiveness?

ELEANOR JONES was brought up on a farm in the north of England and learned to love animals and the countryside from an early age. She has ridden all her life, and after marrying her husband at just eighteen years old and having two wonderful children, they set up a riding center together. This is still thriving over thirty years later, doing hacks, treks and lessons for all ages and experiences. Her daughter competes at the national level, and she is now a partner in the business and brings her adorable three-year-old son to work with her every day. Eleanor’s son is also married with two children, and they live nearby.

Eleanor has been writing for what feels like her whole life. Her early handwritten novels still grace a dusty shelf in the back of a cupboard somewhere, but she was first published over fifteen years ago, when she wrote teenage pony mysteries.

Also by Eleanor Jones

The Country Vet

A Place Called Home

The Little Dale Remedy

Shadow on the Fells

Footprints in the Sand

A Father’s Pledge

A Heartbeat Away

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

A Home for Her Baby

Eleanor Jones

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07817-7

A HOME FOR HER BABY

© 2018 Eleanor Grace Jones

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my brother Thomas

who always reads my books

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

“I TOLD YOU it was going to get rough.” Tom Roberts checked the weather warning yet again before looking back at his younger brother, his expression darkening. “I warned you, Bobby, you should never have asked her along in the first place. Night fishing in October is not a holiday jaunt. I make the decisions, remember, it’s my call, and if this storm really kicks in then the last thing we need is a woman on board, especially a total rookie... Anyway, your problem, because no matter what happens there’s no way we’re giving up on this fishing trip.”

Bobby glanced out at the raging black sea beyond the cabin window. The Sea Hawk was already being buffeted by the waves that crashed onto the deck. “I’ll watch out for her,” he said determinedly, balancing with long practiced ease as the boat lurched up beneath their feet, then plunged back down with the rolling waves.

Tom resolutely held it on course. “It’s like a roller coaster,” he yelled over the thumping engine and the roar of the ocean. “No...!” His dark eyes shone. “It’s better than a roller coaster because it’s real life.”

“I’ll go see where Ali is,” Bobby said. “And don’t worry, I’ll make sure she stays off the deck.”

Tom leaned across so he could hear. “Tell her to stay away from you, more like... You’re only twenty, Bob. She’s way too old for you and you’ll only end up getting hurt.”

Bobby frowned. “Don’t be daft, she’s just a friend...and she’s married anyway. She promised to scatter her dad’s ashes on the ocean... He was a fisherman, too. She’d just met him for the first time only a few months before he died and it all came as a bit of a shock. Have a heart, Tom. She just wants to do right by her dad.”

“I think it’s your heart that’s the problem,” Tom responded with a wry smile, focusing all his attention on the controls of The Sea Hawk. “She’s got way too deeply into it if you ask me.”

“I’m not asking you,” Bobby snapped. “I’ll go and see where she is.”

* * *

DESPITE HAVING BEEN ordered to stay inside, Ali stood on the deck clutching her precious urn. She wanted to scatter her dad’s ashes at just the right moment, a moment he’d have gloried in, when the sea was at its wildest. And surely this must be it. Holding tightly on to all she had left of the father she’d barely known, she remembered the days just before he died, when she’d sat with him and he’d opened up to her about his life. He’d told her things then that her mother never had; the things she’d always wondered about.

Allowing herself to sway with the movement of the boat, she clung to the rail, tears in her eyes. Hearing his voice inside her head as clearly as if he was standing right beside her.

I loved your mother so much then...still do if I’m honest. It broke my heart when she left me and I missed you both every single day. You mustn’t blame her though; it was the fishing, you see. I was always going off in the boat, leaving her alone, worrying and wondering. I guess she just couldn’t live with the sea...and I couldn’t live without it—it’s in my blood. Promise me, Ali, that you’ll make sure I end up in the wildest ocean you can find. Scatter my ashes on the rolling sea and I’ll be a very happy ghost.

They’d laughed about it at the time, but she had promised and she intended to keep that promise, no matter what. And this, she decided with a shiver of apprehension, must surely be about as wild as the sea could get.

The lights of the fishing boat penetrated the blackness of the night, bringing a shimmer to the rolling waves and outlining the dark bulk of the boat that suddenly lurched and heaved beneath her, knocking her off balance. She grabbed for the rail with one hand while turning her face into the wind, alarmed at its ferocity and yet totally intoxicated by the crashing of the waves and the salty tang of the ocean. She felt closer to her dad here than she had in the brief time she knew him, for this was his world. The sea had been his whole life and she owed it to him to make it his final resting place.

The wind howled menacingly in the cloudy black sky above and her apprehension gave way to real fear as the wooden deck seemed to suddenly disappear beneath her, thrusting her back up again as a mighty wave took the boat in its grasp. A wall of water towered above the cabin, crashing down onto the deck in a rushing mass of rippling white foam that almost took her feet from under her as she desperately clung to the urn with one hand and the rail with the other. The water forced her up against the side of the boat, but despite her looming awareness of the danger she was in, she kept her focus.

“I have to do this for you, Dad,” she cried as the next wave rolled across the deck beneath her feet, knocking her off balance. The urn slipped from her fingers and she released the rail, dropping onto her hands and knees to make a grab for it.

“Ali! Ali!” Bobby’s voice sounded distant against the howling wind. She glanced back for just a second and saw his bright young face beneath the waterproofs that hid his thatch of red hair. “Ali,” he yelled again. “Hang on... I’m coming.”

The boat leveled for a moment, and everything went strangely still. This was her chance. Seizing the opportunity, she grasped hold of the urn and unscrewed its lid, fighting back fear as she struggled to scatter the contents of the urn into the sea. The boat rolled violently as the next wave hit, and she hooked her fingers around the rail with a sense of relief. But as she upended the urn, the mighty wind whipped the gravelly dust and hurled it back in her face as if in mockery of her plight. Dust filled her eyes, her mouth. Panic seized her and for a moment everything froze. And then her fingers were slipping...slipping.

Bobby’s voice rang in her ears. “Ali...! Ali... Hang on, I’m coming.”

His words stalled as the next wave hit, lifting her off her feet. She fought for breath as it hurled her against the railing, tossing her like a rag doll up and over the side of the boat, down toward the raging black sea.

As she fell, Ali felt strangely distanced from the events overtaking her. Was this it then, the end? Was she to join her father in the roiling sea? Was that what he’d wanted?

“Ali...! Ali!” She heard Bobby’s voice again, screaming in fear, but it was too far away.

Something suddenly grabbed her, stopping her fall midflight but almost tearing her arm from its socket. The icy water numbed her legs as she hung half in and half out of the ocean, gasping for breath as the boat sank down into the sea before lifting her out again to gulp in air. The noise overpowered her; the howl of the wind, the crash of the waves and all the time, in the background, the steady throb of The Sea Hawk’s engine. It felt like her heartbeat inside her head. She tried to move; a wave of agony ran down her arm and she started to scream. “Bobby... Bobby! Help me!”

CHAPTER TWO

IT WAS JUST as Bobby reached the hatch that Tom saw them. Ali was standing right by the rails, outlined against the formidable black sea by the boat’s flickering light; her face was bright with a kind of raw exhilaration that took his breath away.

“Ali!” Bobby yelled, heading toward her. “Ali!”

Tom cursed silently. Didn’t she realize just how dangerous her situation was?

“Ali!” Bobby yelled again, his voice now a scream that was whipped away by the howling wind. The boat rose on a wave, then dipped down suddenly. Ali lost her footing and the urn she was clutching fell from her hands onto the deck. “Leave it,” Bobby cried.

Ignoring his plea she dropped down on her knees, reaching for the urn that was rolling across the wooden deck. Grabbing hold of it she turned to look across at Bobby, and Tom noted with a jolt of apprehension that the exhilaration in her eyes had now been replaced by raw fear.

“Hang on to the rail,” Bobby yelled as the boat leveled out once more, but Ali determinedly began to unscrew the lid, trying to scatter the ashes into the sea as he made his way toward her. The wind whipped the contents of the urn into her face.

Tom saw the panic in her eyes as the storm took the boat back into its grip and for an endless moment time seemed suspended. The deck rose violently beneath their feet as another huge wave hit; Ali looked up in horror as the water towered above them, as high as the mast itself, before crashing down with a violence that stopped Tom in his tracks and forced Bobby back.

“Ali...! Ali!” his brother yelled again, his voice breaking as the wave hit her. In desperation she tried to hang on to the rail, fighting to stay on her feet as the powerful wave took her. Tom watched helplessly as she slid, over the side and into the raging sea.

“Bobby!” he screamed. His brother headed straight for the railing with no thought for his own safety.

Tom struggled along the rolling deck, watching the scene play out as if it was all happening to someone else. By now Bobby was leaning precariously over the rail, peering into the heaving ocean, the black water flickering and glistening in the yellow lights of the boat. He yelled Ali’s name over and over, despite the roar of the wind.

To Tom’s horror, he started to clamber over the rail... “I’m coming, Ali,” he called. “Don’t worry.”

“Get back, Bobby,” Tom shouted as another wave hit. He struggled toward the rail. “It’s an order, Bob... Don’t be stupid.” His words were lost as the wave crashed down over the boat hurling him against the side.

Hearing the cries, the two other fishermen, Mike and their father, Jed, appeared on deck, struggling to balance against the force of the water as they went to help...but it was too late. By the time they joined Tom at the rail Bobby was gone.

Desperately scouring the heaving waves, an empty space where his heart should be, Tom detected a shape in the water. “There,” he yelled. “Look!”

Mike peered down to where he pointed. “It’s the girl.” he said in a heavy tone.

“You get her,” ordered Tom. “I’ll keep looking for Bobby... Dad, can you get the floodlight out onto the sea and grab a life belt ready to throw out to him...and call Search and Rescue.”

* * *

ALI FOUGHT TO stay conscious, fought to breathe, fought for her life against the raging sea as the icy cold water crashed over her again and again. A burning agony ran down her arm. She was stuck, caught up in something. All the while she could hear Bobby calling her name. His face was a blur as he looked down from the boat, the sea raining over him like a shimmering waterfall. And then he was a part of the waterfall, plummeting toward her. As the weight of his body thudded against her she tried to grab hold of him, clinging desperately onto his arm. For an endless second their eyes made contact and then he was gone, torn away by the cruel sea. Desolation hit and she closed her eyes, the whole world going black.

The pain made her cry out. It engulfed her, tearing through her shoulder and down her arm. Where was she? It was cold, so cold...

“Just hang on lass.”

A deep masculine voice came from somewhere way above her. Was it God’s voice she could hear? Reality hit as she felt herself being physically dragged upward and memories kicked in. “Bobby!” she called out, but her voice was just a croak.

“They’re looking for him,” came the man’s voice again as he hauled her over the rails and onto the deck. Another wave of pain flooded over her but all she could see was the desperation in Bobby’s eyes as she lost her grip on his arm. She should have tried harder. “It’s Mike,” the man said. “Remember me?”

“Mike,” she repeated, recognizing the bearded face that hovered over her. He picked her up as if she weighed nothing and carried her into the cabin, laying her down and removing her wet clothes with a sense of urgency but no embarrassment.

“Here,” he said, wrapping her in a blanket and then in something shiny. “This will help keep your body temperature up... Are you sure you’re okay? You must be in shock.”

She nodded urgently, fighting off dizziness and nausea. “Never mind me, I’m fine... Go and help them find Bobby.”

He didn’t need asking twice. “Just stay here, inside,” he told her, heading out again into the howling wind.

Ali watched from the window of the cabin, dragged down by misery and guilt. If Bobby... She fought back a sob, pressing her face against the window. If Bobby was lost it was all her fault. A spotlight flickered across the surface of the turbulent sea. The men peered over the rails, shouting his name over and over. “Bobby... Bobby... Bobby!”

At least he was wearing a life jacket she realized, so he couldn’t drown...could he? And then she remembered something his brother Tom had said when he was sorting out some kit for her to wear on the boat, including a life jacket. She’d asked him if everyone had to wear one and his answer had surprised her. “Not necessarily,” he’d replied. “In fact some fishermen won’t wear life jackets at all because they think they’re a waste of time. The thing is, though, if you do wear one then even if you drown, at least your body won’t be lost at sea and your family will know for sure what happened to you.”

Her heart tightened as she remembered that moment. They’d laughed, she and Tom, as she tried on the huge oilskins, reminding her of when she’d been staying in his family’s pub and they’d chatted in the bar about fishing and the sea. She’d thought they were friends, but he’d only reluctantly agreed to let her come on this trip, and apart from that one episode with the oilskins, he’d been curt and distant... Now she knew why. Her presence on the boat in such bad weather had put them all at risk.

Bobby couldn’t drown, he mustn’t drown... It wasn’t right. And if he did...if he had, then it would all be down to her.

Hours passed, or what felt like hours to Ali. If only one of them would come and tell her something...unless there was nothing to tell. She nursed her arm to try and ease the pain, thinking about Bobby and feeling guilty for being warm and dry. Bobby was always so much fun, laughing, joking and singing karaoke in the pub. Someone so vibrant and bubbling with life had to be fine...didn’t they? He was kind and caring, too, and so young. He had far too much left to give for his life to be taken; she just needed to stay positive.

Nursing her throbbing arm she cast her mind back to the first time they met. She’d gone with her husband, Jake, to a charity event at the college in Manchester where he lectured and Bobby was a student in his tourism and hospitality course. Jake introduced them and they’d chatted, just general stuff, but after that she’d seemed to keep bumping into him when she least expected it. They’d fallen into an unlikely and totally innocent friendship, and when her dad died and then her marriage went wrong and she’d had no one to talk to, he’d been there. In fact, she realized, she’d have been lost back then without his good advice and common sense.

You need to take some time out, he’d told her. A trial separation to decide what you really want. Maybe you could even do something for your dad. You’re a journalist and he was a fisherman, perhaps you should write an article on fishing and the sea, in his memory.

His suggestion had taken root and grown. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, her coming to stay at his family’s pub, The Fisherman’s Inn in Jenny Brown’s Bay, a little village between Arnside and Morecambe. She’d so enjoyed talking to the fishermen who frequented the pub in the evenings, especially Bobby’s older brother Tom and learning what her father’s life must have been like. In the end she’d taken a six month lease on a cottage right down by the sea and begun writing her article. She closed her eyes and shook her head... How had it ended like this. If she hadn’t taken Bobby up on his suggestion to come here—or if she’d followed Tom’s advice and stayed on shore—tonight would never have happened. Oh why did she always have to be so pigheaded?

Mike appeared again, peering cautiously round the door. “You okay?”

She nodded. “Have you found him?”

“Search and Rescue are out looking.” His mouth was a grim line. “His brother Ned works for them and he’s on duty tonight so he’ll find Bobby, I’m sure of it.”

Ali saw the lights first, blazing through the blackness. She pressed her face against the glass. They must have found him...

The Search and Rescue boat came right up against The Sea Hawk, grating hull to hull. A man secured the ropes and a familiar figure jumped effortlessly across the gap between the boats... Ned, it was Ned.

He spoke to Jed first, placing an arm around his father’s shoulders. When Jed dropped his face into his hands Ali’s heart sank and an unshed well of tears stopped her breathing. No...no...no...this couldn’t be happening.

She was gasping for breath when Ned burst through the cabin door. “It’s you...” he yelled. “My brother’s dead because of you.”

Ali sank to her knees, not noticing that the storm had died and the pale light of dawn was sneaking over the horizon, bringing the promise of a new day; a day that didn’t have Bobby in it...because of her. “I am so, so sorry,” she groaned, rocking from side to side, her pain forgotten.

“It’s all your fault!” Ned said, turning away.

Eventually Tom came back to the cabin, his face ashen and his eyes dark and empty. Ignoring Ali he took the controls, piloting the boat on automatic. Half an hour went by before he spoke. “I told you to stay down below,” he said without looking round. It was an accusation, Ali knew that, but she didn’t know how to respond.

“Oh no. I’m sorry,” she eventually managed, her voice little more than a whisper. Tom just stared ahead, and she could see his eyes were bright with tears he wouldn’t allow himself to shed.

They traveled like that for over an hour, across the restless rippling sea, unaware of the glorious dawn that brought a hint of pale winter sunshine that made the water sparkle. It felt to Ali as if the sea was laughing at their plight, but still she couldn’t hate it. She was the one who deserved to be hated. Mike came and went again, in silence, for there was nothing to be said.