The Baby Gift: Wishing for a Miracle. Alison Roberts

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      About the Author

      ALISON ROBERTS lives in Christchurch, New Zealand. She began her working career as a primary school teacher, but now juggles available working hours between writing and active duty as an ambulance officer. Throwing in a large dose of parenting, housework, gardening and pet-minding keeps life busy, and teenage daughter Becky is responsible for an increasing number of days spent on equestrian pursuits. Finding time for everything can be a challenge, but the rewards make the effort more than worthwhile.

       Recent titles by the same author:

      NURSE, NANNY…BRIDE!

      HOT-SHOT SURGEON, CINDERELLA BRIDE

      THE ITALIAN SURGEON’S CHRISTMAS MIRACLE

       THE BABY GIFT

       A gift so special it’s priceless

       Dear Reader

      I’m not lucky enough to have a sister, but I do have an amazing daughter and many truly wonderful friends, so I’m well aware of what an astonishingly powerful thing the bond between women can be.

      Friends, mothers and daughters…sisters. I started thinking about the kind of bond that might be created if it encompassed all of these possibilities. Could it be enough to overcome obstacles that seem impossible?

      Neither Julia nor Anne Bennett envisages a future that involves children. Their reasons might be different, but the effect their convictions have on their relationships has the potential to be disastrous.

      But Jules and Annie are more than simply sisters, and their bond is such that they will go to extraordinary lengths to help each other.

      As far, even, as carrying a child for the one who can’t.

      That kind of bond is amazing all on its own, but I wanted to give these sisters even more. Men who love them for exactly who they are and futures that will allow all their dreams to come true.

      Cherish the women in your life. The bond is magic.

      With love

       Alison

      Wishing for A Miracle

      by

       ‘No.’ He spoke softly now. ‘Don’t you see, Jules?’ The words were being forced out. He shouldn’t be saying them. But he could no more not say them than take in another breath. ‘It’s not that I have to protect you so much. It’s that I want to. Too much.’

      Slowly, her gaze lifted. Caught his and held it.

      Mac’s hands fisted by his sides as a defence against the urge to reach out and pull her into his arms. He tried to smile but could only manage a brief, one-sided twist of his mouth. ‘It’s a bit of a problem,’ he confessed. ‘It has been ever since that…kiss.’

      Chapter One

      THE train lay like a jagged open wound across the soft, misty Scottish landscape.

      One carriage was still on the bridge, anchored by the tangled metal of broken overhead beams. The engine and two more carriages were in the gully, some thirty metres below, partially submerged by the small but fast-moving river. Another hung, suspended somehow by the mess of twisted steel on the bridge, a gigantic pendant that encased goodness knew how much human misery.

      ‘Target sighted.’

      The quiet statement from the man staring down from beside the helicopter pilot was superfluous except that the inflection on the second word said it all. This wasn’t the usual kind of target they set out to locate. This was, quite probably, a once-in-a-career, major, multi-casualty incident.

      This was…huge.

      Julia’s determined intake of breath was clearly communicated via the equipment built into their helmets.

      ‘How ‘bout that, Jules?’ The rich, male voice of her partner filled her earphones again. ‘Not something you’d see every day back home, is it?’

      She wouldn’t want to either but it was exactly what she’d come to the other side of the world in search of, wasn’t it? In a small country like New Zealand, the chance to be involved with a rescue mission of this size was highly unlikely. Working in the UK was all about getting the experience in case it did happen. Having the opportunities to hone the skills she knew she had.

      She hadn’t anticipated this sudden rush of adrenaline, however. A sinking, almost sick-making dive occurring in her belly. Julia swallowed hard.

      ‘It’s what I signed up for,’ she said. ‘Bring it on!’

      ‘Hold your horses, lassie.’ It had been nearly three months since Julia had joined this new specialist emergency response team and the pilot, Joe, had learned to hide his vague incredulity that such a slender, feminine creature could be so keen to hurl herself into danger but there was still the suggestion in his tone that she had to be at least halfway crazy. ‘There’s a Medivac chopper taking off. We haven’t got clearance to land yet.’

      ‘And then we’ll have to check in with Scene Command,’ her partner reminded her. ‘See where we’re needed first.’ A hint of tolerance born of understanding crept into his voice. ‘Joe’s right. Hold those horses.’

      The tolerance had been hard won but Alan MacCulloch was used to her enthusiasm by now. Appreciated it, even, now that he knew she wasn’t about to rush headlong into a scene and put them both in danger, and this had become a tradition. Julia was the feisty one, ready to leap in and do whatever needed to be done. Mac was the calm one. They both looked but Mac got to give the word before either of them leapt. It was one of the many things they had found that made them able to work so well together. Had forged them into a tight team in a surprisingly short space of time.

      The scene commander wasted no time in briefing them. Dealing with the carriages that had crashed to ground level was under control.

      ‘Carriage 3…’ The scene commander looked up. ‘Still an unknown quantity for victim numbers and status. One bloke got the door open near the top and managed to climb out. He fell.’

      Julia exchanged a glance with Mac. They both knew how unlikely it was that someone would have survived such a fall. The dangers inherent in this rescue were becoming very clear.

      ‘Someone else was spotted signalling for help,’ the scene commander continued. ‘Waving through a broken window at the bottom of the carriage, and cries were heard. More than one voice. We used megaphones from the bridge and the ground to order anyone else in the carriage to stay as still as possible while we tried to stablise things.’