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Mending The Single Dad's Heart. Susanne HamptonЧитать онлайн книгу.

Mending The Single Dad's Heart - Susanne Hampton


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too.’

      ‘No, I’m fine to do it myself but thank you for offering.’ Her response was genuine and ingrained. She could manage on her own. She didn’t need a man to help her. Jessica Ayers was more than capable of taking care of herself, despite everyone being so kind since she’d arrived. The friendliness of the locals was almost making her feel at home. Under different circumstances, in another lifetime, she might have even thought it would be a lovely place to live. But everywhere was temporary to Jessica now.

      The driver nodded, put the fare in his pocket and, blowing warm breath on his cupped hands, walked briskly back to the cab. Along with not needing his help, Jessica hadn’t wanted to delay him any longer. They had chatted during the brief trip and she had discovered it was the end of his shift. He was heading home to his wife and newborn baby boy after he dropped her off and she appreciated he had already waited for her to do the shopping.

      With the front door open, the light from the porch illuminated the interior of the house enough for Jessica to find the inside light switch. She quickly found out the freshly renovated house was as simple and tidy inside as it was out. And there was a faint hint of fresh paint and furniture polish but neither were overpowering.

      ‘New start for us both, hey,’ she muttered as she carried the shopping bags inside and closed the door on the cold night air and went in search of a heater, a bath and her bed.

      An hour later Jessica emerged from the bathroom with her freshly washed hair piled inside a makeshift white towel turban. The central heating had warmed up the house while she had been under the shower. She had decided a soak in a bubble bath could wait as she saw there was a hairdryer in the first drawer, along with samples of shampoo and conditioner, and clean hair might distract from the clothes she would be wearing on her first day on the job. And, much to her joy, she had found a thick white bathrobe folded on her bed. Nice touches, she thought, and decided to make good use of all of them.

      If at least her hair looked clean and tidy she hoped everyone might overlook the fact she was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. Thank goodness it wasn’t summer as the T-shirt she wore underneath was a gift from the plumbing service that replaced her hot water tank and their marketing slogan—If you want clean pipes, look no further—would not have been well received. Ordinarily she would never have travelled in such casual clothes, let alone considered going to work in them, but she had been pushed for time to get to the airport that afternoon and decided to stay in the clothes she had been wearing to run errands in the morning. And with the missing suitcases and no shops open, other than the grocery store, she now had no choice.

      Jessica walked around the house and found it was clean, tidy and had a nice ambience to it. The furniture had character, as opposed to some of her previous rentals that had generic flat-pack-style furniture that had an impersonal motel feel. This house was homely and had recently undergone a freshen-up. All the furniture was in good condition but eclectic in style and age and she suspected it had belonged to others before it came to rest there, and that felt nice. A country home filled with furniture that came with history. One that she assumed would be country-style sweet, not sordid, as she considered her history to be.

      Brushing aside thoughts of her past, Jessica made herself dinner and washed the dishes by hand. There was a dishwasher but it would have been a waste to turn it on for one dish, one glass, a knife and fork and two small pans. Besides, she had nothing much to do other than dry her hair and head to bed. She didn’t have to spend any time at all deciding what to wear on the first day of her new job—missing luggage had seen to that.

      * * *

      ‘Are you going away again, Daddy?’

      Harrison closed the story book and gently put it on the nightstand beside the bed as he looked down lovingly at his son snuggled next to him. ‘No, Bryce. Daddy’s not going anywhere.’

      ‘So, when I wake up you’ll be here? You won’t get on a plane and go away again?’

      The innocent questions tugged at Harrison’s heart and he knew immediately he’d done the right thing in fighting for custody. For the right to keep his son safe in Armidale with those who loved him. Those who had since the day he was born. And always would.

      ‘I’ll be right here when you wake up and then I’ll take you over to Granny and Grandpa’s house.’

      ‘For breakfast?’

      ‘For a second breakfast, as Granny always likes to make something special for you before school,’ Harrison said as he edged off the bed and, pulling the covers up to Bryce’s ears, he ruffled his thick black hair.

      Bryce giggled. ‘I hope she cooks pancakes.’

      ‘I do too,’ Harrison said as he kissed his son’s forehead, turned off the light and walked quietly from the room, safe in the knowledge that Bryce was right where he needed to be...and nothing and no one would ever put that at risk again.

      * * *

      The alarm clock ensured Jessica woke on time and found her underwear had dried on the coat hanger she had hung on the shower rail. The house had remained toasty warm overnight and she felt unusually relaxed as she lay under the warm covers surveying the room in the daylight that was creeping through the gaps in the heavy curtains. The walls were a very pale blush, so pale that she hadn’t even noticed the night before and had thought it to be cream, but now she could see the hint of colour. It was also in the bedspread and the throw cushions that Jessica had placed on the armchair the night before. There were two framed prints, both of birds, and the furniture was made of oak, including the bedhead.

      For a rental, it was quite lovely, she thought as she climbed from under the covers. She could have slept in a little longer as she had over an hour before she was due at the hospital but, as always, she wanted to arrive early. She also wanted to call the airport and remind them to send her bags to the hospital the moment the plane touched down, so she could change into something more suitable as soon as possible.

      A quick shower and an equally quick breakfast of oats with blue gum honey and a cup of tea followed by an equally quick phone call to the airport saw Jessica lock the front door of her home thirty minutes later. She had checked directions on her phone the night before. When she rented the house, she was made aware that it was less than ten minutes from the hospital. But then in a town the size of Armidale most homes were only that distance from where the hospital was located.

      As she stepped outside into the cold morning she couldn’t help but notice the scent of the country air envelop her. It stopped her in her tracks for the briefest moment. The perfume from the large eucalyptus tree in the neighbouring yard travelled on the chilly breeze. There was no smog, no smell of heavy early morning traffic or industry. The fresh, naturally scented air was one of life’s simple pleasures that she hadn’t realised she had been missing.

      Until that moment.

      She wondered if there was anything else that this country town might remind her that she had been missing. A year of relatively short-term placements arranged by a national medical locum agency was beginning to grow old for Jessica, but she was scared to stop. Scared to consider other options. A sense of safety came from having the decision of what to do next made by a third party. And the security that came from not forming relationships, other than with colleagues, sat well with Jessica. While there was a sense of emptiness that couldn’t be ignored, she decided that was better than the pain of heartache that came from getting close and having it fall apart.

      Moments later as she drove along, with a little nervousness stirring in her stomach as it tended to on the first day in a new role, she tried to avoid looking down at her clothes. She cringed as she caught sight of her jeans, sweater and grey and lime-green runners and prayed her bags would arrive from Sydney that morning as promised.

      * * *

      ‘I’m Errol Langridge. It’s so lovely to meet you, Dr Ayers, and, speaking on behalf of the Board of the Armidale Regional Memorial Hospital, we’re thrilled to have you on staff, albeit for a short time.’ The older, impeccably dressed man shook Jessica’s hand gently but for the longest time. His clothing had a country feel in the


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