Sharon Archer - Single Father - Wife and Mother Wanted

Matt grinned at Caitlin. ‘How about a nice family outing one day while you’re here? What about Sunday? I can make up a picnic lunch.’

Caitlin sniffed, blinking away the quick rush of moisture that blurred her vision.

The last thing she needed was a complication in the form of a man. Especially one with a child. Regardless of how charming they both were.

It wouldn’t be fair to them…She didn’t do relationships or family well.

She didn’t know how to make them work, had no blueprint to guide her.

No, she had no business wishing she could see more of Matt and his precious son.

None whatsoever.

But the longing in her to be accepted, to be included, made it impossible for her to decline Matt’s invitation. The way this family swept her into their centre delighted her and terrified her in equal measure.

Born in New Zealand, SHARON ARCHER now lives in County Victoria, Australia, with her husband Glenn, one lame horse and five pensionable hens. Always an avid reader, she discovered Mills & Boon ®as a teenager, through Lucy Walker’s fabulous Outback Australia stories. Now she lives in a gorgeous bush setting, and loves the native fauna that visits regularly…Well, maybe not the possum which coughs outside the bedroom window in the middle of the night.

The move to an acreage brought a keen interest in bushfire management (she runs the fireguard group in her area), as well as free time to dabble in woodwork, genealogy (her advice is…don’t get her started!), horse-riding and motorcycling—as a pillion passenger or in charge of the handlebars.

Free time turned into words on paper! The dream to be a writer gathered momentum! And, with a background in a medical laboratory, what better line to write for than Mills & Boon ®Medical ™Romance?

This is Sharon’s first book for Mills & Boon ®Medical ™Romance!

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Thank you to Anna Campbell, Rachel Bailey and Marion Lennox—for your honesty when I asked for your opinion, and for fun, friendship and tons of encouragement.

Thanks, too, to my ever-patient medical friends, Judy Griffiths and paramedic Bruce.

To Rhonda Smith, friend and neighbour, who read this in an early draft and liked it!

To the members of Romance Writers of Australia for support, above and beyond.

And to Glenn: husband, hero and believer!

GHOSTLY gum trees loomed in the fog then slid away to the side as Matt Gardiner drove cautiously through the deserted countryside. With visibility reduced to metres, the route looked unfamiliar. No chance of using the craggy peaks of the Grampians as a point of orientation this morning.

Beside him sat his ten-year-old son, uncharacteristically quiet. Nicky Gardiner was in big, big trouble. Matt suppressed a shudder at the thought of the dangerous game Nicky and his friend had devised to entertain themselves. At this point, grounding for life sounded good.

Finally, Matt spotted the hazard-warning triangle he’d put out earlier at the site of Jim Neilson’s accident. He pulled onto the verge behind a tiny sports car.

The vehicle’s driver was crossing to the fence where Jim’s truck and horse float had ploughed through into the paddock beyond.

As he unbuckled his seat belt, Matt watched a figure pick a path across the green swathe that the runaway truck had slashed through the frost. An elegance of movement suggested the person could be a woman. Bundled up in a huge padded black jacket and hat, she looked more like the Michelin Man.

Seven-thirty. He felt like he’d been on the road for hours. Between yesterday morning’s delivery of a slightly premature baby and last night’s acute asthma attack in one of his younger patients, he was beyond tired. With the respiratory emergency resolved, he’d been on his way home more than an hour ago only to discover the sometime horse breeder’s latest debacle.

Nothing had been straightforward. Poor phone reception had meant a trip into town to organise the tow truck instead of a simple phone call. Which, as it had happened, had worked out well since he’d been close by to deal with the fallout from the boys’ adventure. An overnight stay with a mate had ended with a sword fight with real machetes, for heaven’s sake. He tamped down another shiver at what could have happened to the would-be elf lords.

Matt glanced at his son, stifling the fresh words of censure that threatened to bound off his tongue. Instead, he managed to keep it mild. ‘Stay in the car, Nicky. I’ll be back in a minute.’

‘Sure, Dad.’ At least he sounded subdued. Like he might have realised he’d pushed his father too far.

Frigid air seared Matt’s lungs when he stepped out of the warmth of his car.

Steady, rattling thumps were battering the foggy tranquillity. From the confines of the horse float, Jim’s four-legged passenger didn’t sound happy.

Matt rubbed his face, enjoying the momentary relief of chilled fingertips against the lids of his tired eyes. He wanted to go home to bed, snatch maybe a half-hour nap before starting work. He shrugged away thoughts of quilt-covered comfort. No chance of that this morning. Not now.

He tucked his hands into his pockets and trudged after the driver of the sports car.

Brittle spears of frosty grass crunched beneath his feet and his breath plumed in front of his face. Winter was reaching into the second month of spring to give inland Victoria one final taste of its power. Hard to believe another two months could see them sweltering in the heat of the Australian summer.

He saw Jim scramble out of the cab of the truck. Frustration was obvious in every movement of his barrel-like body as he stomped back towards the horse float.

As soon as he let the man know the tow truck would be at least two hours, Matt could take his son home. Take time to have a serious talk. His heart clenched tight. Didn’t Nicky realise how precious every single hair on his head was?

Even Nicky’s mother, a very absentee and uninterested parent, would take a dim view of their son getting stabbed.

Ahead, the newcomer paused by the tangled wreckage of the fence. ‘Would you need a hand, then?’ a husky female voice called into a small pocket of silence.

Matt’s stride faltered and his breath caught at the sound of the lilting Irish accent.

Ridiculous. He must be even more sleep deprived than he’d thought if a woman’s voice could have that sort of effect.

Suddenly, all the tension of the morning coalesced and unreasonable anger flared deep in his gut. Why had she stopped at the accident? The truck and float were thoroughly bogged down. No way was her tiny sports car going to be any use. She was only going to get in the damned way.

From the paddock, Jim shot a disgruntled look in their direction before opening the trailer door to heave himself inside.

Matt drew level with the woman. ‘Unless you can morph into the Incredible Hulk or you’re a certified fairy godmother, there’s probably not much you can do,’ he said, not even trying to curb his sarcasm.

But as soon as he began to speak, she turned and fixed him with direct smoky-grey eyes. He swallowed. Brown curls peeped out from beneath the hat, curved onto her sculpted cheekbones and disappeared beneath her padded collar. She was lovely.