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The Family They've Longed For
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What she’s always wanted:
Love. A family. Him.
Pediatric surgeon Rory Anderson is dreading returning to her small Alaskan hometown and seeing her ex, local doctor Jacob Hunter! After everything they lost, discovering he’s a single dad brings back so many painful memories. Only when it becomes clear their chemistry’s as powerful as ever, Rory dares to hope Jacob and his son could be the family she’s always longed for...
Rory straightened when she heard the front door open and looked up.
Her heart stuttered, then slammed hard into her ribs.
Jacob Hunter.
She found herself staring, riveted. He looked like he always had, and yet even better. Tall and lean, with angular features that were still startlingly beautiful, dark eyes that could see right through a person and lips that were perfect for his face. The black, silky hair she’d loved to run her hands through long ago had been cut short enough to be respectable for the town doctor, but still, it brushed his collar, not fully tamed.
He was wearing a T-shirt that showed his shoulders and biceps, which were maybe even more muscular than seven years ago at her father’s funeral. The jeans he wore fit his physique perfectly, making him look more like an Alaskan cowboy than a medical professional.
Her heart beat its way up into her throat, making it hard to breathe. She thought she’d been prepared to see him. But not tonight. Not when she was barely ready to deal with being back in town at all.
“Hello, Aurora.”
“Hello, Jacob.”
Dear Reader,
I was lucky enough to visit Alaska with my family on a cruise some years back, stopping at a few places along the way to hike, paddle a boat on a glacier lake and be generally awed by the amazing beauty of the rustic wilderness.
I’ve been planning to set a book there for a long time and, for whatever reason, this story called to me and I had to write it. My first Alaskan setting, but probably not my last!
Jake and Rory grew up in a small town near Fairbanks, Alaska, and were childhood friends turned college lovers. After heartbreak struck, Rory couldn’t bear to continue their plan of going to medical school together in Anchorage, and hightailed it to Los Angeles instead. Jake has never forgiven her for abandoning him at the worst time in their lives. Nine years later, Rory has returned, and they must deal with seeing each other again. Reopening old wounds, bringing back memories of how much they’d loved one another once...
I hope you enjoy this story of how Jake and Rory learn to deal with their guilt, resentment, mistrust and the feelings they can’t deny still exist between them.
xoxo Robin
THE FAMILY THEY’VE LONGED FOR
Robin Gianna
www.millsandboon.com.au
This book is dedicated to awesome cousins George, Christie, Soula and Django. Thanks so much for answering all my questions and giving me great insight into your Alaskan world. Prepare to have me come visit soon! xoxo
Praise for Robin Gianna
“The story captures your attention from page one with beautiful prose and a captivating heroine who you instantly fall in love with.”
—Goodreads on Baby Surprise for the Doctor Prince
Contents
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
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
Excerpt from The Surgeon’s One-Night Baby by Charlotte Hawkes
CHAPTER ONE
“JUST FOLLOW THE standard orders for her release from the hospital as I wrote them,” Dr. Aurora Anderson said into her phone. “I know Dr. Jones has her chart, but he doesn’t know all the nuances of her problem. Any questions, call me and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
Overhead, the last call for her flight to Alaska was urgently announced and she huffed out an impatient breath as the intern asked a few more questions.
“Listen, I have to board my plane. I’ll call when I get to Fairbanks. You need to follow my instructions. Yeah, I get that Dr. Jones is filling in for me while I’m gone, but I already talked to the parents about the plan. I don’t want anyone deviating from that and confusing them. They know I’ll be seeing their daughter as soon as I get back, and that they only need to contact Dr. Jones if something seems wrong.”
Rory shoved her phone into her backpack, grabbed her carry-on bag and ran to hand her boarding pass to the airline attendant, ignoring the disapproving frown the woman gave her. Being late to board wasn’t catastrophic, but messing around and changing her orders for a patient post-op absolutely might be, so she couldn’t worry about being the last on the plane.
After four years of med school, five years of residency and finally getting the board exam under her belt, she’d damned well earned her title: Doctor of Pediatric Orthopedic Medicine. She knew all this second-guessing from the intern was because she wasn’t yet an attending physician. But having her orders followed was supremely important—not only for the patient, but for her future on the doctors’ roster. If all went well, she’d have a permanent position there in a matter of weeks, and she’d never have to think about uprooting her life again.
She wrestled her bag into the overhead compartment and apologized as she squeezed her way past the two people in her row before finally plopping into the window seat. She drew a calming breath and pulled out her phone again, calling a nurse to give her instructions about a couple of other patients before they were told to turn off all electronics for takeoff.
Why they insisted on that, she had no clue, since people used computers and phones around all kinds of electronic medical equipment and not once had it interfered with testing and diagnostics. Then again, she thought to herself, she wasn’t an engineer, so she should stick with what she knew instead of offering opinions—something a few people in her past had frequently pointed out...one of whom she’d be seeing again this week whether she wanted to or not.
That painful realization had her stomach twisting like a terrifying tornado. Seeing him again, being in her hometown at all, was going to be torture; it would bring back all the horrible memories, all the guilt, all the sorrow she’d tried so hard to leave behind.
The plane lifted, propelling her toward the one place she absolutely didn’t want to go. She swallowed hard, trying to control the sickly feeling in her stomach, and tipped her forehead against the window to stare down at what had been her home for the past nine years.
The dizzying concrete mass of freeways connecting the hulking city of Los Angeles and all its suburbs couldn’t be more different from where she’d grown up. Where she was heading now.
With serious effort she managed to move her thoughts to the patients she’d just performed surgery on, and the others she was scheduled to see in her office the rest of the week. It wasn’t going to happen now. Because a different kind of patient needed her help. The woman who’d always needed some kind of care or guidance throughout Rory’s whole life.
Her sweet, wacky, childlike mother.
The plane rose higher above the clouds, leaving LA far behind. Rory dropped her head against her seatback and closed her eyes.
It would be okay. It would. Being with her mother for the next week would be really nice, since she’d spent so little time
with her these past nine years.
Her mom loved her life in Eudemonia, Alaska, and hadn’t been too interested in visiting Rory in LA. The few times her mom had come to Southern California had been a joy, and a huge source of entertainment to everyone she’d been in med school with, and later her friends in the hospital. There weren’t too many people like Wendy Anderson, and her unique way of dressing was startling even in a big city like Los Angeles.
A smile touched her lips at the memories—until reality hit her like a hard fist all over again. Taking care of her mom would be the easy part. The hard part would be being back home. The worst part would be seeing Jacob Hunter again.
Yesterday, the sound of his voice on the other end of the phone had made her heart jolt hard in her chest, then hammer wildly—even after she had found out the reason he’d been calling. He’d been letting Rory know about her mother’s emergency surgery for a ruptured appendix, telling her that she was fine, and now just needed some nursing and recovery time.
Unbidden, the face that had fascinated her since the fourth grade appeared in her mind and memories of him spread to her heart, bringing a melancholy pleasure and unrelenting pain. Though their friendship—and more—was long over, she would always cherish the memories of their childhood together, and their years as lovers in college.
But theirs had been a love that had resulted in the worst thing ever to happen to either of them.
She squeezed her eyes more tightly shut, as though she could squish the memories right out of her brain. It hadn’t happened in nine years, so clearly there was no point in trying now. Still, she worked to think, instead, about her mother’s idiosyncrasies, which made her laugh and sometimes drove her crazy, even though she loved her to bits.
From the time Rory had been barely more than a toddler, she vividly remembered her mother insisting that she call her Twinkle-Toes or Twinkie instead of Mom. Possibly because she adored wearing dance and fairy costumes, but mostly because actually acting like a mom had never been on her radar.
There were memories of the two of them doing all sorts of unorthodox things—like painting every lampshade in the house neon so they’d glow in “pretty colors”; like deciding that creating rock sculpture Voodoo talismans all around the house would keep them safe after Rory’s father died. Rory had helped with all that to make her mom feel more comfortable even as she had inwardly rolled her eyes—as she had when her mother danced spontaneously whenever the mood struck, not caring if there were other people around or not.
So many of the things her mother did were adorable and funny. But sometimes embarrassing—especially once Rory had become a teen. She found herself managing to smile in anticipation of what might greet her today at the house she’d grown up in, knowing that spending time with her unique mother was the only thing that would make this trip bearable.
The moment the plane touched down at the Fairbanks Airport, Rory felt like a ten-pound weight had dropped onto her shoulders. Looking out at the snowcapped peaks of the Alaska Range, she felt the memories she’d tried to stuff down flood back. They forced her to think about what had happened the last two times she’d been home.
One thing had turned out to be the biggest mistake of her life, which had left her with a shredded heart she knew would never be repaired. The other had been her father’s funeral, two years later. He had bravely suffered through diabetes, then kidney failure, for more years than she could remember. Neither one of those memories were things she wanted to revisit and remember, but being here again thickened her throat even as she promised herself she wouldn’t fall apart.
The forty-five miles from Fairbanks passed way too fast, and soon she was driving into the city limits of Eudemonia. The moment she saw the familiar stores and homes, and the trees which were now mostly naked except for a few straggling golden yellow leaves still clinging to the branches, her chest squeezed even tighter.
Finally the tiny house she’d grown up in came into view, surrounded by birch, aspen and spruce trees that were bigger than she remembered. Cozy and charming, in a worn sort of way, the house stood atop the small hill she’d rolled and sledded down as a kid, her mother rolling and laughing along with her while her dad watched and applauded—the hill she’d run down nine years ago, stumbling and falling, somehow getting in her car, tears making it hard to see, grief making it hard to breathe, to leave for LA.
God, she had to get these feelings under control before she went in to see her mother.
She hit the brakes and sat there, waiting for the sickly feeling to pass. She gulped in a few breaths, admitted she was as ready as she’d ever be, then turned her rental car off the road to bump across the uneven grass.
She could do this. She had to. She had to find a way to get through the next week without becoming a weeping mess all over again.
A single bulb dangled over the crooked wooden front porch, and a giant stuffed rabbit wearing a green army helmet sat on an overturned bucket to greet visitors. Why a rabbit, Rory had no clue—since it was early October, not Easter—but, boy, she couldn’t wait to find out. Though it was likely her mom didn’t have any reason other than she liked the way it looked.
The whole place appeared even more dilapidated than it had when she’d last been here for her dad’s funeral. She’d called regularly, but she knew it had been cowardly of her to avoid this place, and consequently her mother. She felt bad about it—she did—except that being here made her feel even worse. Maybe someday she would be able to face what she’d done and deal with the pain.
Nine years hadn’t accomplished that—which meant that “someday” was still a long way off. If it ever came.
She knew she was beyond blessed that her mom had lots of friends to spend time with. Close friends who always looked after one another. People who were a big part of the reason why her mother sounded like her happy self whenever they spoke.
But what her mom had gone through with her surgery wasn’t normal, everyday stuff. Rory knew her mother was supposed to be doing all right, but she might still be in a lot of pain. How on earth would her mom have coped if Rory hadn’t come home?
She had no idea. Which made her realize all over again that, despite everything, she felt glad to finally be here for her mom.
She planned to nurse her mom with lots of TLC. Then, with any luck, she’d be close to her normal self by the time her mom’s sister, Rory’s Aunt Patty, came to take over. Much as she dreaded spending time at home again, getting her mother healthy enough for Rory to feel okay to leave her had to be the goal.
She stepped up to the front door and paused to pick at the paint flaking from the side, making a mental note to call a painter to get it done next summer. She knew it was too cold to paint now, but getting it on the schedule would be better than nothing.
Her job as a resident pediatric orthopedic surgeon provided her with enough money to live on and pay for this kind of repair stuff. And now that she’d passed her boards she’d be making a lot more. Assuming she got the permanent job—which was another reason to get back to LA as quickly as possible for her interview, before someone else snagged it away from her.
Even though it was barely six thirty, the vibrant golden sun was already setting in Eudemonia, Alaska—long before it would be in LA. She gazed at the fading orb, loving the way fingers of light slipped through the branches and lit the yellow leaves and hills. Up on the mountains the brilliant reds of the moss and lichen in the tundra glowed beneath the setting sun, and Rory was surprised at the warm nostalgia that filled her chest. It was so completely different from the warm temperatures, the concrete roads, the masses of cars and buildings and people that made up LA.
Thinking of the warm temperatures made Rory shiver as the chilly air sneaked down inside her jacket, and she shook her head at herself. Her friends here would laugh at what a wimp she’d become, thinking it was cold now, in early October. They’d probably all still be wearing
shorts and T-shirts and thinking it felt downright balmy—but, hey, when she’d left Southern California earlier that day it had been almost eighty degrees. Anyone would feel the contrast, right?
She turned the knob and the door squeaked open. No surprise that her mom hadn’t locked it, since Rory didn’t think it had ever been secured in her whole life. In fact, thinking about it, she wasn’t sure it even did lock. And wouldn’t her California friends be flabbergasted at that?
“Hello? Mom? Twinkle-Toes?”
The light in the small living room was so dim it was hard to see, and she peered at the worn chairs, not seeing any sign of her mother’s small frame. Sounds of marching band music, of all things, came faintly from the back of the house, and Rory had started to move toward her mother’s bedroom when she appeared in the hallway outside the living room, with a small, curly-haired brown dog trotting beside her. Rory hadn’t met him yet.
“Aurora! I’m so happy you’re here! Come give your mama a big hug.”
She hurried toward her mom, partly because she looked a little unsteady, walking with the pink cane she held in her hand. “Mom. Twinkie.”
She gently enfolded her in her arms, being careful not to squeeze, and her throat clogged with emotion at how good it felt to hold her. Until this moment she hadn’t even realized how much she’d missed seeing her and being with her. The pain of being in Eudemonia was so intense, the pleasure of seeing her mom often just wasn’t enough to counteract it.
No doubt about it, she was a coward. A weakling.
“You shouldn’t be wandering around with no one here. You just got out of the hospital this afternoon. What if you fell?”
“I knew you were coming. I knew you’d be here to take care of me, marshmallow girl.”
Marshmallow girl. It had become her nickname after they’d filled her hot chocolate cup to overflowing with them one Christmas. It had become a tradition, with the various pups they’d had over the years gobbling up the marshmallows that had scattered on the floor. Why that had stuck in her mother’s mind she had no clue, but she’d always kind of liked it when she called her that, remembering all the silliness of her home life.