Fiona Harper - Snowkissed! - The Midwife's Marriage Proposal

‘Another long day.’ Sally changed into her jeans and a jumper the exact colour of her eyes, slammed her locker shut and pocketed the key. ‘See you tomorrow, Emma.’

She ran down the stairs to the bike rack at the back of the unit and grabbed her mountain bike.

It was a cold, clear evening and she rode fast, chasing away the pressures of the past few days, enjoying the bite of winter air against her cheeks.

Oliver answered the door with a smile. ‘Sally!’ He stepped forward and hugged her tightly. ‘It is so good to see you. We’ve missed you.’

Touched by the warm welcome, Sally hugged him back. She’d missed her friends so much, but she hadn’t truly realized how much until she’d had the letter from Bryony. Her thoughts about home had always been dominated by Tom, and somehow along the way she’d forgotten just how many longstanding friendships she had in this small community.

For a moment she closed her eyes and allowed herself the rare treat of being held by someone, and then she pulled away and reached up to kiss his cheek, handing him the bottle of wine she’d brought with her.

‘Congratulations. Bryony tells me you finally met Miss Right. The women of Cumbria must be in mourning.’

Oliver grinned. ‘The fells are littered with sobbing females. Come and meet Helen. Everyone’s in the kitchen.’

Sally followed him through to the kitchen, smiling at Jack and Bryony and sniffing appreciatively. ‘Smells good, Oliver.’

A pretty blonde girl stepped forward, a smile on her face as she greeted Sally. ‘I’m Helen and I’m very pleased to meet you.’

‘Likewise.’ Sally glanced between them. ‘I’m really delighted for the two of you. I hear you met at Bryony’s wedding two months ago?’

‘That’s right.’ Oliver slipped an arm round Helen’s shoulders and hugged her. ‘We’re getting married in two weeks’ time and before you ask the obvious question, no, she isn’t pregnant but if I have my way she will be soon.’

Helen gave a shocked gasp and gave Oliver a little push. ‘Oliver, that’s awful! You shouldn’t say things like that in company!’

Her face was scarlet with embarrassment and Oliver cupped her face in his hands and kissed her gently.

‘That depends on the company.’ His tone was smug and his blue eyes twinkled. ‘This lot have always known I want a hundred children so it’s time we got started.’

Genuinely pleased that they were so happy, Sally managed a smile and tried to ignore the ache in her heart.

It would happen to her, she told herself firmly.

One day it would happen to her.

‘Have a drink.’ Oliver handed her a glass of wine and then tilted his head as the doorbell rang. ‘Be an angel and get that for me, Sal, while I finish cooking.’

The years fell away.

Suddenly she was ‘Sal’ again, and it felt good. Comfortable and safe.

During her childhood, being with Bryony, Oliver and Tom had been the nearest she’d come to belonging anywhere.

The nearest she’d had to family.

Suddenly she was glad that Bryony had married Jack. If she hadn’t, would she herself ever have found the courage to come home? Preoccupied, Sally walked to the front door and tugged it open, her smile of greeting fading as she found herself face to face with Tom.

HE WAS dressed in black leathers, his motorbike helmet tucked under one arm, the dark stubble on his jaw an indication that he’d left the hospital in a hurry. He looked dark and dangerous and his blue gaze locked on hers in blatant challenge, his mouth tightening as their eyes met.

Her heart stumbled and her stomach lurched but her instinct to close the door and pretend that there was no one there was curbed by the knowledge that this wasn’t her house. She had no right to shut him out of his brother’s home.

And she really didn’t want him to know that she cared that much.

It was the one thing that stopped her dropping her glass and reaching for her coat.

Pride.

She was no longer so weak and pathetic that she believed that she couldn’t exist without Tom Hunter in her life.

Calling on inner reserves, she reminded herself that part of coming home had been to confront what she’d felt for Tom, and she couldn’t do that by avoiding him.

Avoiding him implied that she still felt something for him, and she wasn’t that foolish.

‘Well?’ A faint smile of self-mockery touched his firm mouth. ‘Are you going to slam the door in my face?’

The fact that she’d considered doing exactly that brought a trace of colour to her cheeks and she stepped to one side to let him in, careful that her gaze revealed nothing.

‘I hope I’m not that uncivilized, Tom.’

She wanted to ask why he wasn’t working, but stayed silent. She didn’t want him knowing that she cared that much or that she’d taken that much notice of what he’d told her earlier.

‘I want to talk to you, Sally.’ He unzipped his jacket and she flinched, her eyes drawn instinctively to his chest and then away, fixing on some point in Oliver’s hallway.

She forced herself to resist the command in his tone. She’d been making her own decisions for years now and she intended to carry on doing so. To listen to what he had to say would risk being sucked back into the darkness from which she’d fought so hard to escape.

‘There is absolutely nothing that you and I need to talk about, and this is supposed to be an evening spent with friends,’ she replied calmly, turning away from him with as much dignity as she could muster. ‘I haven’t seen Oliver for years and I want to get to know Helen.’

Strong fingers caught her wrist and swung her back round to face him. ‘And you and I no longer share the category of friends?’

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply.

Friends?

Once he’d been everything to her. Her friend, her lover— her world.

His fingers tightened and she felt his touch with every fibre of her being. Her traitorous body yearned for more. Yearned for everything this man was capable of giving.

And then she remembered that he wasn’t capable of giving enough.

He hadn’t been able to make that commitment to her.

And neither had anyone else in her life.

And she’d finally learned to live her life alone, depending on no one.

‘Of course we can be friends.’ Her answer was suitably bland. ‘After all, we’re working together.’

‘That’s colleagues,’ he replied softly, his eyes narrowing slightly. ‘Friendship is something completely different. We had it once.’

‘And I seem to remember that you decided that you no longer valued that friendship.’ She gave a cool smile to indicate that the conversation was over, ignoring the traitorous thump of her heart. ‘Oliver is handing out drinks in the kitchen. If you don’t want to miss out I suggest you move quickly.’ With a determined twist of her wrist she freed herself and walked towards the kitchen with a determined stride, feeling his frustration with a faint flicker of satisfaction.

Not everything goes your way, Tom Hunter.

She walked back into the kitchen and said, ‘Tom’s here,’ in her most casual voice, and then proceeded to top up her glass of wine.

There was a tense silence and Bryony put her hands on her hips and glared at Oliver. ‘You invited Tom ?’

‘Why not?’ Oliver’s tone was calm. ‘He’s my brother. I refuse to stop socializing with him just because he used to go out with Sally. It’s been seven years, for crying out loud. It’s history. We all need to move on.’