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?

But, if it couldn’t, she could still help. She could help him take that first step. They had the house to themselves. Nobody but she and Adam need know.

Maybe the real gift she could give Adam was the permission to be really happy again? To show him what it could be like.

She could offer Adam hope. A belief that it was possible. He was an outstanding doctor and father but she could help him get over that huge barrier he’d put around himself as a man.

‘Adam?’ Slipping out of her own coat, Emma stood beside him at the coat rack. ‘I’m sorry … I don’t have to go to that appointment in Edinburgh. It’s not that I don’t want to be here with you and children. It’s just that—’

‘It doesn’t matter. I told you that.’

‘But it does,’ Emma said softly. ‘I don’t want to make things difficult. I know I’m not here for very long but I want this to be a special time—one that will make special memories—for all of us …’

Herself included. The whisper in the back of her mind reminded her that this could turn out to be her last Christmas. She had nothing to lose. Adam had everything to gain.

Oh, help … he was standing so very still. His eyes were closed.

When his eyes slowly opened, he wasn’t looking down at Emma. He was looking up—at the mistletoe wreath. And then he reached up and picked a whole bunch of those little, waxy white berries.

Finally, he made eye contact and the smouldering depths in those dark eyes stole Emma’s breath.

And her heart.

He might be fighting it but he wanted her.

Needed her.

Emma had to close her eyes because her own wanting and needing was overwhelming and this had to be Adam’s decision. His choice.

She heard his deep groan. And then she felt him move. One arm went around her waist and the other caught the back of her legs. She was scooped up as if she weighed almost nothing and she held on tightly and buried her face against his neck, allowing herself to sink into total trust as Adam carried her upstairs.

To his bed.

She felt so light in his arms. Thin enough to seem fragile as he set her down gently onto her feet when he’d reached his room and pushed the door shut with his foot to keep the dogs out.

To keep the whole world out.

Emma’s arms were still around his neck as her feet touched the floor and she must have stayed on tiptoe to reach his lips with her own so easily.

There was nothing fragile about that kiss. He could feel only the strength of her desire and a need that was as great as his own for the comfort of intimate, human touch.

It had been so long. Adam’s hands slipped beneath the woollen jumper to feel skin that was like silk. Small, firm breasts that seemed to push themselves into his hands and nipples that were as hard as tiny pebbles.

Touching them with his hands wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. As blissful as it was, kissing Emma, he needed his mouth and his lips to savour other parts of her perfect body.

A tug on her clothing seemed to be enough. Emma dropped her arms and stepped back. Just far enough to grasp her jumper herself and peel it off over her head. And then she began to unbutton her shirt but Adam stilled her hands.

‘Let me.’

His fingers fumbled with the tiny buttons and Adam realised, to his horror, that they were shaking. She wasn’t watching his hands, though. As he looked up he found she was watching his face. Waiting for a contact that went so much deeper than physical touch. And when he gave it to her, he couldn’t look away.

Could he do this? Could he love Emma in the way she deserved to be loved? Without disappointing her?

Emma could feel the tears in her eyes as she felt the way Adam’s hands were trembling.

This big, strong man who could save a life and do such intricate manoeuvres with those hands without the slightest tremor couldn’t hide his emotions in this moment.

This was huge. So huge that Adam was nervous. It wouldn’t last. She knew that as soon as they got over this awkward moment of shedding their clothing and they could touch each other properly, any doubts or nerves on either side would cease to exist.

But in this brief moment of such vulnerability she realised just how much she loved Adam. She wouldn’t only be giving him her body tonight. She would be giving him her heart—for as long as he wanted it.

Or as long as fate would allow.

And maybe something of what she was feeling was communicated as they held each other’s gaze for such a long, long moment, because she felt that trembling stop. She saw the doubt vanish from Adam’s eyes and could see something that seemed to mirror what she was feeling herself. A reflection—or was Adam gifting her his heart?

And then she could see—or maybe sense—the moment that desire ignited and there was nothing but the need to be as close as physically possible. There was no further awkwardness. Anything that was going to stop them being skin to skin seemed to be discarded as easily as ice melting in hot sunshine.

Adam flicked back the bed covers and then drew Emma against his body. In a heartbeat they would be lying on that bed together but she loved it that he stopped to gaze at her for a moment longer. To bend his head and give her such a tender kiss that promised he would look after her.

That he intended to make this night unforgettable.

Not that Emma had the slightest doubt that this would be the case but she loved being given the promise. Along with her body and her heart, Adam McAllister had just won her lifelong trust.

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE MAGIC WAS getting stronger.

Emma’s gift to Adam had been received so well it seemed that he wanted to unwrap it all over again the following night, and Emma was only too happy to participate, tiptoeing into Adam’s room when the children were fast asleep.

How amazing that the same gift could be given in both directions.

And that parts of it could be given to others without them knowing how or why it was happening?

They were being very careful to make sure the children didn’t realise what had changed between them but the magic was still happening.

The new connection between Adam and Emma was sending out tendrils that were touching the children. Making them all feel like a family.

Like when naughty Benji had mistaken the old teddy Poppy carried everywhere now, for a dog toy and had grabbed its leg. Poppy had tried to keep hold of it but ended up pulling off the damaged arm and she had been distraught.

‘Emma can fix it,’ Adam consoled her.

‘Daddy can fix it,’ Emma said at the same time.

They looked at each other and smiled.

‘You’re good at sewing,’ Adam said. ‘I’ve seen that pretty dress you made Poppy for the play.’

‘You’re the doctor,’ she said solemnly. ‘An amputated arm is much more in your line of work.’

‘Aye …’ Adam nodded thoughtfully but his eyes held a mischievous glint. ‘I’ll need a scrub nurse, though.’

‘I love new jobs.’ It was hard not to grin but Poppy was still sobbing.

‘We need a clean sheet,’ Adam told her, ‘so we’ve got an operating table. Ollie? Can you go and bring my doctor bag, please?’

It was a treat, turning the small disaster into a game that the children were fascinated by. With a clean sheet on the table, Adam pretended to give teddy an anaesthetic with a nebuliser. He’d found masks and gloves for both he and Emma to wear and he seemed more than happy to use up other medical supplies, like the suture kit.

It might have been a game but watching Adam draw the teddy’s furry fabric together and make the complicated-looking knots of real sutures impressed Emma as much as it did the children. Their father was doing his important, real work at home. For teddy.

‘Pay attention, scrub nurse,’ Adam growled at one point. ‘You have to cut the thread now.’

Emma giggled and, after a startled moment, so did both the children.

Teddy’s arm got bandaged when the operation was finished and then he got sent off to Intensive Care in Poppy’s bedroom because it was bedtime. Ollie got to carry him because he’d been promoted to orderly.

‘I’ll bet they’ll remember that for the rest of their lives,’ Emma told Adam later that night as she lay in his arms yet again. ‘The night Daddy operated on teddy.’

‘I think I’ll remember it,’ Adam replied quietly. ‘It was special.’

‘Magic,’ Emma agreed happily.

‘Aye …’ Adam bent his head to kiss her again. ‘Like you …’

The newest member of the Braeburn McAllister clan was born in the new light of the day after teddy’s surgery.

Everyone in the village assumed that was why Dr McAllister was looking so happy. He had a bonny new niece and everybody was fine and his mother would head home in a couple of weeks and life would carry on just the same but better.

‘They’ve called the wee lassie Holly—did you hear? Because she’s been born sae close to Christmas.’

If anyone wondered why that Miss Sinclair seemed to be just as happy as the rest of the family, even though she was no relation to the new bairn, they just gave each other knowing looks. She was always a happy wee thing, wasn’t she? A bit different, mind, with strange clothes and carrying her guitar with her everywhere, but you couldn’t say a word against how she looked after those twins and the way she was getting involved with the school’s Christmas production and even with the fundraising for the hall committee.

And, oh, my … she could sing like a wee angel, couldn’t she?

Phone calls and texts and photographs pinged between Scotland and Canada but it was a couple of days before everything came together well enough for a family gathering, courtesy of an online video chat.

Marion and Holly were back home already with Ian—the proud husband and new father—and Catherine was using her tablet. Adam had set up his desktop computer in the living room. With a fire burning merrily in the grate and the lights on the Christmas tree twinkling, it seemed the perfect background for a digital reunion, but Catherine McAllister seemed overwhelmed by the initial visual contact.

‘Oh … is that a … a … Christmas tree?’

‘It’s our Christmas tree, Gran …’ Poppy leaned in close to the computer screen to make sure her grandmother could see her properly. ‘Emma helped us paint the balls and we sticked the sweets on the stars and we made paper chains and … and everything.’

Catherine probably couldn’t see anything except Poppy’s nose, Emma thought, but there was no mistaking the pride and joy the small girl was radiating. She could see the screen but she was staying out of range of the camera, sitting on the floor near the fire, flanked by Bob and Benji.

There was no mistaking the voice thickened by tears from the other end of the connection either.

‘That’s wonderful, darling. It’s the most beautiful Christmas tree I’ve ever seen. Emma’s clever, isn’t she?’

‘Aye.’ Adam gently pulled Poppy’s head back to allow a wider camera view. ‘She’s made a dress for Poppy, too. For the school play. I told you that Jemima’s going to be in the production, didn’t I?’

Laughter came from behind Catherine and the picture on the screen changed angles sharply. They got a view of polished wooden floorboards and then feet and then the picture settled on a young woman sitting in an armchair with a small bundle in her arms. She could be Adam’s twin, not just his sister, Emma thought. With that same dark hair and eyes and a smile that was so like Adam’s when he was really happy.

She’d seen that smile so often in the last few days. Everyone had and it was contagious. There was so much laughter in this house now and even people in the village seemed to be smiling more.

‘Are you trying to upstage me, Adam? Creating havoc in the village so nobody’s got time to talk about my wee Holly? Whose crazy idea was it to take our donkey into the hall?’

‘Emma’s,’ the twins chorused.

Oliver pushed past Poppy to take centre stage. ‘Aunty Marion—can you come and see our play? I’m going to be Joseph and I get to lead Jemima until we get to the stage and I’ve got a … a rib that Emma made out of a sheet—’

‘Robe,’ Adam supplied.

‘And I wear a stripy tea towel on my head and Emma’s made a special rope thing to hold it on and …’

And Marion was laughing again. ‘I can’t come this time, pet. I have to be here to look after wee Holly. But next year we’ll all be back in Braeburn and we’ll all come and see the play.’

‘But Jemima won’t be in it next year.’

And I won’t be here, Emma thought. She had to dip her head and swallow hard.

‘I think I need to meet this Emma,’ Marion declared. ‘Where is she?’

‘She’s here.’ Adam turned away from the computer and held out his hand. ‘Come over, Emma. Come and meet my sister and our new niece.’

She couldn’t not respond to that outstretched hand. To the invitation in those eyes and the smile she was coming to love more and more. With the children standing in front of them, nobody would notice that Adam caught her hand when she got close enough, would they? Or that he laced his fingers through hers and kept holding it as Emma smiled at the screen.

‘Hi, Marion. Congratulations. I’ve seen the pictures of Holly and she’s just gorgeous.’

Adam squeezed her hand and it was automatic to look up and return his smile. Hard to look away quickly enough to avoid making it obvious that her relationship with her employer had undergone a radical change recently.

Marion looked away from the screen for a moment, her face a question mark. Was she exchanging a significant look with her mother? But then she was smiling again, possibly even more widely than before.

‘I hear you can sing,’ she said. ‘That you—and the children of Braeburn school—are about to become rich and famous.’

Emma laughed. ‘I don’t think so. But a local radio station got hold of the story about us making a CD of Christmas carols as a fundraiser. They’ve organised a bus to take us all into a recording studio and they’re going to make it available as a download so lots of people can buy it. With a bit of luck, we’ll be able to fix up the hall and get a new piano for the school.’

The twins were feeling left out.

‘I’ve got a train, Aunty Marion. It’s on the floor by the tree, see?’

‘No, I can’t see it, pet.’

‘I’ll get the engine and show you.’ Oliver wriggled between Adam and Emma and they had to break their handhold.

‘And I’ve got a bear.’ Poppy held it up and pressed it against the computer screen. ‘Benji pulled him and the arm felled off but Daddy and Emma poperated it and it’s all better now.’

‘Good heavens … that’s my old bear,’ came Catherine’s voice.

‘We found it in the attic when we went up to hunt out the Christmas decorations,’ Adam explained. ‘You don’t mind, do you? Ollie’s train was the one I had when I was his age. I’d forgotten it was even there.’

‘Of course I don’t mind.’ Catherine’s eyes were suspiciously bright. ‘It’s wonderful that you found things to use again. Oh … I wish I was there with you. You all look so happy.’

If they hadn’t noticed anything significant in the glance Adam and Emma had exchanged before, they would surely pick up on something this time as Adam turned to Emma and smiled.

‘We are,’ he said.

‘But what on earth did you do to the bear to fix it?’

‘A poperation,’ Poppy shouted. ‘I told you.’

‘An operation.’ Emma was laughing. ‘Daddy got a special needle and thread from his doctor’s bag and sewed teddy’s arm back on.’

‘I growled at Benji,’ Poppy added. ‘And he looked sad.’

‘Is Benji going to be in the play, too?’ Marion asked.

‘‘Course not.’ Oliver was back with the train engine. ‘He’s a dog.’

‘Maybe he could pretend to be a sheep?’

‘No.’ Adam shook his head. ‘Don’t go putting ideas in their heads, Miri. You’re as bad as Emma. We’ve got more than enough going on right now. I’m helping to shift hay bales into the hall tomorrow. Bryan from the pub is making a manger.’

The connection crackled and the picture pixelated for a moment. By the time it cleared, baby Holly was crying and it was hard to hear conversation.

‘We’d better go,’ Adam said. ‘It’s very late for you. We’ll try again on Christmas Day, aye? Children—come and blow a kiss to your wee cousin.’

With a chorus of ‘Miss you’ and ‘Love you lots’ the call ended. For a moment the blankness of the screen seemed to dampen the atmosphere in the room.

Emma groaned. ‘Oh, no … we forgot to sing the carol for the baby.’

The twins were good at speaking in unison. ‘Deck the halls with boughs of holly …’

They were also good at looking equally disappointed.

‘Never mind. We needed to practise a bit more anyway. We’ll be extra-good at it for Christmas Day.’

But Poppy’s lip wobbled and Oliver hugged the train engine more tightly.

‘It’s almost bedtime but why don’t we have a quick practice now? Maybe Daddy could record it on his phone and we could send it to Gran and Aunty Marion.’

‘I’ll get your kit-ar,’ Poppy offered.

‘No.’ Oliver glared at her. ‘That’s my job.’

Happiness had been restored yet again, thanks to Emma’s way of dealing with problems.

No. Maybe it was being created rather than restored.

That was certainly the case for Adam, he realised much later that night as he held Emma in his arms yet again.

She was asleep but he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head and the pressure seemed to bounce back in a shaft that went straight to his chest, where it encased his heart and squeezed it tightly.

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