Healed by His Secret Baby Read online

She looked at him heart pounding. ‘What?’

  ‘Can I come in? I don’t think I should say this on the doorstep.’

  Against her better judgement she stepped back and let him in. It felt good to have Tori back home. It felt good to see him, too. She’d missed him, even though she hated to admit it, and it was difficult keeping up this front when all she wanted to do was tell him that she loved him, throw herself into his arms and feel safe again. The fact that she couldn’t do that was making her sound curt.

  In the living room, she put Tori down. She instantly crawled over to her box of toys and began dragging things out.

  ‘So?’ She stood opposite him, a coffee table between them.

  ‘I do want alone time with Tori. It will be good for me, but I don’t want to do it without knowing we can come home to you.’

  She continued to stand there, arms folded, staring at him. She knew what she wanted to say. But clearly he still had plenty of talking to do, so she decided to stay silent and hear him out. Then she would say her piece.

  ‘I’m her father, but you’re her mother! We were a family the first day we met. I didn’t know it, but we were. I tried to fight against it. I’m sure you did, too. But it happened anyway. I wasn’t sure I could fall in love again. I wasn’t sure I could be that brave. But you make me feel that way, Lane. You make me feel that anything is possible. That us being together is possible.’

  Had she heard right? Had he said those words? Was he telling her that he loved her? This wasn’t about Tori?

  The thought made her heart race.

  ‘What are you saying, exactly?’

  She needed him to clarify. Because she had a bad history of getting these things wrong. Because right now she wanted to grab onto him and never let go—but if there was some small chance that this was still a rejection, then she didn’t want to embarrass herself any further.

  He smiled then, his eyes brightening. ‘I’m saying I love you. I’m saying I have loved you for a long time and I want to go on loving you for the rest of my life. I’d like us to be the true family we are. I’d like you to marry me.’

  Her heart was soaring. He loved her? He truly loved her?

  ‘You love me?’

  ‘Yes! I do.’

  He came over to her, took her hands in his, lifted them to his mouth, kissed the insides of her wrists before holding them against his heart.

  ‘I can’t be without you. We can’t be without you.’

  ‘I thought that you...’ She shook her head and sank against him, holding him tight. ‘I thought I might lose you.’

  ‘You’ll never lose me. Or Tori.’

  She sank into him, squeezed him tight. Grateful that she’d been so terribly, terribly wrong about him.

  He pulled back to look into her eyes. ‘Well? What do you say?’

  She laughed. ‘I’m saying... I love you, too. I’m saying yes to being a family.’ She blushed. ‘I’m saying yes to being your wife—if you’ll have me, of course.’

  He pulled her into his arms and kissed her like she’d never been kissed before.

  She sank into his embrace, knowing that no matter what was to come she and Cole would be together for ever...

  EPILOGUE

  WHEN LANE WOKE she instantly turned to check on her baby. Lorelei had been born late last night, at three minutes to eleven, and had emerged into the world with a loud cry to announce her arrival.

  Lane had looked into Cole’s eyes and seen his tears, then she had pulled him close and they had hugged one another, crying, as the midwives cleaned up their newborn daughter before passing her over.

  Lorelei was a beauty. But what baby wasn’t?

  Lane had been unable to stop looking at her all evening.

  ‘You need to get some sleep. Both of you,’ the midwife had said eventually.

  So Cole had reluctantly gone home to catch a few winks and Lane had lain in the hospital bed, one eye on Lorelei’s crib, as if she dared not look away in case her baby disappeared.

  It had been a whirlwind of a pregnancy, but so much easier than she had thought. She’d had the usual uncomfortable symptoms, and she’d secretly worried that something might go wrong, but that fear had been lifted the moment she’d safely delivered Lorelei and held her baby girl in her arms. She was perfect. Ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes.

  Now Lane scooped her up and just sat there in the bed, holding her and looking down at her. Was it possible to love a human being so fiercely?

  Yes, it was. She already knew it was.

  She’d worried about that. She loved Tori so much, she had wondered if she would be able to love another to the same degree—but she realised now that the heart had an infinite capacity to love.

  Loving another never took the love away from someone else. It just got more. It got bigger. Better than ever before.

  Lorelei had Lane’s nose and mouth, but her father’s eyes, and she could already see the similarity between Tori and her new daughter. She liked that. Liked that there was a familiar trait. They were a family. Bigger than before, but so much better!

  There was a gentle knock at the door and Cole peered around it. ‘Ready for visitors?’

  She smiled and nodded. ‘You couldn’t stay away?’

  ‘How could I?’

  He crept in, holding Tori’s hand, and then scooped up his eldest daughter and put her on the bed, so she could see the baby.

  ‘What do you think, Tori? This is your baby sister.’

  Tori leaned in for a closer look, smiling. She hesitantly reached out and touched Lorelei’s face, then leaned in further and kissed her on the cheek.

  ‘Baby sister!’ she said.

  ‘Yes. Baby sister. This is Lorelei.’

  ‘Lorry-bye!’ Tori laughed and they all laughed with her. That was cute!

  Cole draped his arm around Lane’s shoulders. ‘How are you feeling today?’

  She let her head fall against his chest, then looked up at him and beamed a happy, contented smile his way. ‘I feel as I always do when I’m with you. Like the luckiest person in the whole world.’

  He kissed her, then kissed both his daughters. ‘Not possible.’ He smiled. ‘That honour is all mine.’

  * * *

  If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Louisa Heaton

  Pregnant by the Single Dad Doc

  The Prince’s Cinderella Doc

  Their Unexpected Babies

  Saving the Single Dad Doc

  All available now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Best Friend to Doctor Right by Ann McIntosh.

  WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM

  Life and love in the world of modern medicine.

  Escape to the world where life and love play out against a high-pressured medical backdrop.

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  Best Friend to Doctor Right

  by Ann McIntosh

  CHAPTER ONE

  ALTHOUGH UNEXPECTED, THE sound of the buzzer heralding a visitor hardly registered.

  Dr. Mina Haraldson lifted her head briefly off the couch cushion to stare blankly at the television, where a show she didn’t recall putting on flickered in the gloom of her living room. Thick mental fog blanketed her more securely than the heavy quilt she was huddled beneath, giving her respite from the world. There was a vague recognition of something unusual having happened, but she had no idea of what it was until the buzzer went off again.

  No need to answer, or even see who it was. She hadn’t ordered food or anything else. Her parents, having been convinced their immediate presence was no longer necessary, had gone off to Florida for their usual winter break. Her brother was at home in BC. She knew that because she’d been forced to put on a happy tone the night before, for their weekly Friday night telephone
conversation.

  If she’d failed to convince Braden of her well-being, he’d have said something.

  Somehow she must have done a good job. He’d rung off without trying to interrogate her, taking her word that all was well.

  Perhaps now that her medical career was over she should take up acting. After all, a one-handed actor was far more feasible than a one-handed surgeon. She’d put that on her “future prospects” list, if she ever got up enough energy to start one.

  Tears clouded her vision, and she closed her eyes. Leaning her head back against the cushions and pulling the quilt back up under her chin, she drowned anew in her reality.

  Her uselessness.

  When the buzzer went a third time, her jaw clenched.

  “Go away!”

  The shouted words drowned out the TV and echoed in the apartment, but the person down in the lobby couldn’t hear them, and the buzzer rang again.

  Then her phone beeped, as well.

  “Oh, for...”

  Untangling her arm from the quilt, she fumbled around on the ground for her phone. Unlocking the screen, she squinted at the message, her heart turning over as she read it.

  Answer the door, girl. Calypso Kiah is here and ready to party!

  “Kiah?”

  Shock dispelled the rage as swiftly as it had risen and was then overwhelmed by a rush of delight so intense Mina’s head swam.

  What was he doing here, now? He’d said he was going to Calgary for his cousin’s wedding, then coming to Toronto to visit, but that wasn’t until the twenty-fifth. Or was it the twenty-first?

  Good grief, what date was it today anyway? What day?

  She couldn’t remember. Funny how, when you had nothing to do or to concentrate on, the days ran one into the other.

  Obviously, she’d totally lost track of time.

  Mina tried to sit up, was caught in the folds of the quilt and, in her eagerness to rise, put both hands down on the cushion beneath her and heaved.

  Pain shot like jagged shards of glass up her arm from the nerve endings in her stump, making her fall, cursing, back onto the couch, dropping the phone as she went.

  It was over a year since the accident, but she still forgot. Still tried to use her hand.

  Still, somewhere deep inside, apparently hadn’t accepted her left hand was gone.

  And each reminder made her heart stop for an instant, denial washing through her, as strong as it had been the day she woke up in the hospital and learned about the amputation.

  She couldn’t find the phone, was still gasping from the pain, cradling her left arm against her chest with her right hand.

  But it was Kiah, and she couldn’t let him leave.

  He was her oldest and very best friend in the world.

  She hadn’t seen him in person for five years.

  Frantically kicking her feet, she freed herself from the quilt. Her cell phone was set up to unlock the downstairs door, but she’d never mastered the art of using it efficiently with one hand. So she tumbled off the couch and ran to the panel beside the front door to hit the intercom button.

  “Kiah. Kiah, are you still there?”

  There was a pause and, for a sickening moment, she thought he’d gone. Then his voice, deep and melodic, its island rhythm hardly distorted by the intercom, came through.

  “Of course I’m still here, girl. You can’t get rid of me so easy.”

  Knees weak, she leaned against the wall, a smile breaking over her face, silly tears once more filling her eyes.

  “Thank goodness. Come on up.”

  As she buzzed him in, she was suddenly aware of the state of her apartment. The unwashed cups, an old pizza box and wadded-up tissues littering the coffee table. The crumpled quilt, half on, half off the couch.

  It was a mess, and she wasn’t in any better shape, now that she thought about it.

  When last had she even bathed, much less washed her hair? She’d been wearing the same shapeless sweatpants and sweatshirt for at least two days. For a brief instant shame racked her, but it wasn’t strong enough to do more than mute her overwhelming joy and excitement.

  After all, it was Kiah.

  Pulling open her front door, she stepped halfway out into the corridor, her heart pounding as she stared down the hallway toward the elevators. Finding herself jigging from one foot to the other like an overexuberant child brought a bubble of laughter, but it stuck in her throat, burning, instead of breaking free. Emotions too numerous to recognize swamped her, rushing through her system in first hot and then cold waves.

  When the ping of the elevator sounded from around the corner, Mina’s world seemed to stop for an instant, and then resume in agonizing slow motion. It felt like a year before a shadow fell on the carpet; another eon passed before Kiah stepped around the corner and came toward her.

  Bundled up to the hilt, as was only to be expected for someone who’d come from a tropical island into the Canadian winter, he was unzipping his parka as he walked. Through the haze of delight misting her eyes, Mina took note of the changes in him since the last time they’d been together. He looked older. New lines at the corners of his eyes, some gray salting the hair at his temples. But his smile as beautiful as ever: white teeth gleaming against his dark skin, the little dimple on his left cheek winking.

  Just seeing him made something deep inside her shift, loosen, unravel. Where before she’d been lost in a fog, suddenly everything was in sharp, clear focus. Illuminated brighter than she’d expected. Dazzlingly so.

  “Oh, Kiah!” she cried, as he got close enough to envelop her in a huge bear hug. “I’ve missed you so much!”

  And, to her surprise and consternation, she burst into tears.

  * * *

  Kiah picked Mina up and carried her into the apartment, glad she had her face buried in his shoulder so she couldn’t see the shock on his face, in his eyes.

  This wasn’t his Mina. More like a shadow of his friend.

  The old Mina was always neatly put together, no matter the occasion. Even at the beach, or wearing jeans and a T-shirt, she gave off an air of tidy confidence. Not now, though. Wearing shapeless clothes, with stringy hair and a face sallower than it should be, even allowing for winter pallor, she’d been almost unrecognizable when he came around the corner. And when he hugged her, he realized she’d lost so much weight it felt as though she’d snap in two should his arms tighten too much.

  Then there was the fact she was sobbing pitifully. In the more than twenty years since they’d met, he could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen her cry, and even on those occasions, it was nothing like this. She hated to cry, and always exerted Herculean effort to curtail the tears, indulging for a brief moment before getting herself back under control. Right now, she seemingly had lost every ounce of control she possessed, and it was kind of freaking him out.

  Yet, growing up surrounded by women, Kiah knew what not to say to a sobbing female. So he sat down on the sofa and, pulling Mina’s frail form close, repeated over and over, “I got you, sweet girl. Kiah’s got you.”

  His heart ached to see her this way, but he was fiercely glad he was the one there with her, supporting and comforting, just as she’d been there for him all through the years, since the very beginning. Grade seven, to be exact. Mrs. Nowac’s class.

  He’d still been traumatized by and grieving over the loss of his father, terrified of this new school, the new life he’d found himself living. From the first moment he’d set foot in Moraine Academy, he’d known he didn’t belong, and was sure he never would. The only way he and his little sister Karlene got into the prestigious private school was because his mother’s employer, Mrs. Burton, had pulled strings and gotten them scholarships. And the only reason she’d done it was because it was the closest school to her mansion, and she wanted her housekeeper available in the mornings, n
ot driving her kids to school.

  They’d had to walk the four miles to school, since there were no buses going there. All the other kids got dropped off or, if they were old enough, drove themselves. As he and Karlene trudged onto the school property, he’d seen the scornful looks the other kids gave them, checking out their cheap, bargain-basement clothes and no-name shoes.

  Karlene had noticed, too.

  “I hate it here already,” she’d said, loud enough to prove she didn’t care who heard. Kiah hadn’t replied. Normally he’d have tried to give it a positive spin, but just then he was overwhelmingly sad, really low on optimism, and couldn’t in good faith disagree. He, too, was wishing he were back in their old school in Scarborough, surrounded by the friends they’d made the year before.

  He’d walked Karlene to her class then made his way to the room he was assigned to, getting there just as the bell rang. Knowing the other kids would have seats picked out already, he waited by the door until the rest of the students had settled into their chairs, then looked up and found the last empty seat in the room.

  On his way there he kept his head down, not making eye contact with anyone, yet aware of how everyone in the room was staring at him. The other kids’ whispers surrounded him like the buzz of bees. Even all these years later he still remembered it, clear as day.

  “We have a new student,” Mrs. Nowac said, once he was seated. “Hezekiah Langdon. Please make him welcome.”

  “Hezekiah?” The derision in the boy’s voice was accompanied by a kick to the back of Kiah’s chair. “What kind of stupid name is that?”

  The wave of laughter rippling through the class hardly mattered. Kiah already knew he had no business there. All he could do was wish things could go back to how they’d been—before his father died, and his mother had totally lost control. He’d thought coming to Canada would be exciting but it had all gone to hell. His father had been the one who held everything together and gave his children the love and support they needed, while keeping his wife’s anger and bitterness in check.