Melissa James - Long-Lost Father

Dear Reader,

All families are special, but some are truly miraculous. My brother’s family is one. Ten years ago, this family, with three young children, relocated to Kathmandu in Nepal. My brother was a medical officer for the U.S. Peace Corps. One day my sister-in-law visited a hospital in the city, and saw what she thought was a newborn baby—but that baby was eight months old, and dying. With tears in her eyes, she asked how she could help. The sick mother of five put that baby in her arms. “Take my baby,” she said. “Save her.”

The doctors gave that child a month; but with round-the-clock nursing, my nephews, niece and both grandmothers included, they saved her. Today, after many operations and constant care, she is almost nine, a singing, dancing marvel, adopted with her real parents’ blessing.

So when I was asked for a book “outside the square” for the Harlequin Romance® line, I thought of a book dedicated to this very special family. It is the proudest moment of my writing career to bring this story to fruition.

Wishing you all joy,

Melissa

“I never should have gone to Africa without you, Samantha.”

“It’s over, Brett.” Her eyes turned dark. “We need to move on, to accept our past before we can know if there is a future for us as a family.”

“Oh, there is, Sam.” He picked up her hand. “Acceptance is good, such as accepting that I’ll always be here for you from now on, or how much I love you.”

He saw her swallow. “Brett—”

“Tonight, I’ll show you how much we have in common. We can go home—if that’s what you want, Sam. If it is home, for us both.” She was listening…and maybe, just maybe, she was open to his suggestion.

He looked into her eyes, and his whole body took fire. He was winning her over. If he had his way, the night would blend into tomorrow, the next day, week, year or decade—in her home, in her bed.

He just prayed he didn’t blow it again.

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Melissa James is a mother of three, living in a beach suburb in New South Wales, Australia. A former nurse, waitress, shop assistant, perfume and chocolate demonstrator, among other things, she believes in taking on new jobs for the fun experience. She’ll try anything at least once to see what it feels like—a fact that scares her family on regular occasions. She fell into writing by accident, when her husband brought home an article stating how much a famous romance author earned, and she thought, I can do that! She can be found most mornings walking and swimming at her local beach with her husband, or every afternoon running around to her kids’ sporting hobbies, while dreaming of flying, scuba diving, belaying down a cave or over a cliff—anywhere her characters are at the time!

Outback Baby Miracle #3936

This book is dedicated to Lily Maya, for singing, dancing and demanding all the happiness that life can offer. To Chris, Chrisanya, Zeb and the family, for all you did to save a baby in a hospital in Kathmandu, who would never have lived without you. Special thanks to the Institute for Deaf and Blind Children in Sydney, for helping me to understand the special needs of my brother’s family, and for permission to use their marvelous facilities as a part of Casey’s life.

Final thanks go to Mia Zachary, Olga Mitsialos and Rachel Robinson, for all their excellent suggestions. And to Maryanne and Diane. You know why.

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

“SO SHE MARRIED the prince and lived happily ever after in his beautiful castle.” Samantha Holloway’s fingers left the page to trail over her daughter’s sleep-flushed cheek. “It’s time for sleep now, princess.”

The child’s tiny Cupid’s-bow mouth stretched wide in a yawn. “Oh, all right.” The golden-brown eyes—so like her father’s—turned to Samantha, soft and unfocused. Eyes as heartbreaking as they were beautiful, for while they were filled with expression, they were not filled with light. “D’you still love me lots and lots?”

Sam felt her throat close up as she caressed the feathery gold curls. “More than anything in the world, princess.” To love and protect her darling girl was her life’s mission.

Casey smiled, lighting twitching dimples, with a look of mischief that was her father’s inheritance. Sam ached anew, seeing it. “Night-night, Mummy.” After her prayer, she rolled over and pulled up her sheet before drifting off to sleep.

Sam returned the stuffed animals and discarded book back to their slots—and then she did the same for the rest of the house. Cleanliness wasn’t a luxury or an obsession in Sam’s home. It was a necessity she couldn’t afford to neglect. A dropped toy was a potential hazard; spilled milk not immediately wiped dry could be worth crying over.

When your child was blind, mess was deadly.

When her work was done, Sam heaved a sigh of relief and wandered to her bedroom. She crossed to the window and looked out at the night through her neighbour’s trees, luxuriating in the simple joy of silence and peace.

It was her time now…her time to live.

But I have no one to live it with.

Stop it! Self-pity is as destructive to you as it is to Casey.

She’d go relax on her hammock on the veranda. That was it. Let’s get positive…

The light cotton dress slithered down steam-heated skin, pooling to a huddled heap around her feet. Her cream-coloured lacy underwear—her concession to femininity—followed piece by piece, dropped carelessly for the simple abandon of it. Then years of routine kicked in, and she laid them on the bed. She stretched, her hands sliding upward to lift her mop of fair curls through her fingers as she drank in the dark, still night. Shrugging off the responsible woman she must be during the day, even if it was only for an hour. As much as she loved Casey—and no woman could love her child more—she reveled in the glorious freedom of quiet, the peace of being alone. For now, she belonged only to the sweet, velvety summer night.

February nights in Sydney were steamy, heavy with the promise of storm, turning the lightest of clothing into unbearable fetters. She loved padding around the darkened house in as little clothing as possible, feeling the whispering breezes through her windows surrounding her. With a long, cool drink and her lightest sarong, lying on the hammock she could only set up on her veranda at night—lest Casey walk into it and hurt herself—and she could indulge her senses, lose herself in the pulsing silence of darkness.

Shimmering waves still rose from the ground as the earth cooled itself from the scorching heat of day. Her body took on its heat and pulse, the waiting for the storm, the pressure building, heat sliding into her pores. She took an ice cube into her mouth, letting it melt, and the cold liquid slipping down her throat in cool relief.