Sleigh Ride With The Single Dad. Alison Roberts
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weight of two tired small boys suddenly increased as their steps dragged.
‘And it’s too dark now, anyway,’ Charles pointed out. ‘We’ll go tomorrow. In the daytime. We can do that because it’s Sunday and there’s no nursery school. And I’m going to be at home to look after you.’
‘Why?’
‘Because Maria’s got a sore back.’
‘Because she fell down the stairs?’
‘That’s right, buddy.’
‘It went dark,’ Cameron said.
‘I was scared,’ Max added. ‘Maria was crying...’
‘Horse was barking and barking.’
‘Was he?’
‘I told Max to sit on the stair,’ Cameron said proudly. ‘And Mr Jack came to help.’
Jack was the elderly concierge for their apartment block and he’d been there for many years before Charles had bought the penthouse floor. He was almost part of the family now.
And probably more willing to help than his real family would be if he told them about the latest complication in his home life.
No, that wasn’t fair. His siblings would do whatever they could but they were all so busy with their own lives and careers. Elijah would have to step up to take his place as Chief of Emergency in the next few days. His sister Penelope was on a much-needed break, although she was probably on some adrenaline-filled adventure that involved climbing a mountain or extreme skiing. The youngest Davenport, Zachary, was back from his latest tour of duty and working at the Navy Academy in Annapolis and his half-sister, Miranda, would try too hard, even if it was too much. Protecting his siblings had become second nature to Charles ever since the Davenports’ sheltered world had imploded all those years ago.
And his parents? Hugo Davenport had retired as Chief of Emergency to allow Charles to take the position but he’d barely had time for his own children as they were growing up and he would be at a complete loss if he was left with the sole responsibility of boisterous twin almost three-year-olds. It would be sole responsibility, too, because Vanessa had led an almost completely separate life ever since the scandal, and playing happy grandparents together would never be added to her agenda.
His mother would rush to help, of course, and put out the word that she urgently needed the services of the best nanny available in New York but Charles didn’t want that. He didn’t want a stranger suddenly appearing in his home. His boys had to feel loved and totally secure at all times. He’d promised them that much when they were only an hour old—in those terrible first minutes after their mother’s death.
His grip tightened on the hand of each twin.
‘You were both very brave in the dark,’ he told them. ‘And you’ve both been a big help by being so good when you had to stay at Daddy’s work all day. I’m very, very proud of you both.’
‘So we can go to the park?’
‘Tomorrow,’ he promised. ‘We’ll go to the park even if it’s still raining. You can put your rubber boots on and jump in all the puddles.’
They could take some time out and make the outside world unimportant for an hour or two. Maybe he would be able to put aside the guilt that he was taking emergency leave from his work and stop fretting that he was creating extra pressure for Elijah or that his other siblings would worry about him when they heard that he was struggling as a single parent—yet again. Maybe he could even forget about the background tension of being part of a family that was a far cry from the united presence they could still display for the sake of a gala fundraising event or any other glittering, high-society occasion. A family whose motto of ‘What happens in the family stays in the family’ had been sorely tested but had, in recent years, regained its former strength.
A yellow taxi swooped into the kerb, sending a spray of water onto the pavement. Charles hurried the twins past a taco restaurant, souvenir shop, a hot dog stand and the twenty-four-seven deli to turn into the tree-lined avenue that was the prestigious address for the brownstone apartment block they called home.
And it was then that Charles recognised why he’d felt the urge to reach out and try to help Grace Forbes.
Like taking the boys to the park, it felt like he had the opportunity to shut the rest of the world out to some extent.
Grace was part of a world that had ceased to exist when the trauma of the family trouble had threatened everything the Davenport family held dear. It had been the happiest time of Charles’s life. He had been achieving his dream of following in his father’s footsteps and becoming a doctor who could one day be in charge of the most challenging and exciting place he had ever known—Manhattan Mercy’s ER. The biggest problem he’d had was how to balance a demanding social life with the drive to achieve the honour of topping his class, and the only real barrier to that position had been Grace.
He’d managed to succeed, despite the appalling pressure that had exploded around him in the run-up to final exams, by focusing only on the things that mattered the most—supporting his mother and protecting his siblings from the fallout of scandal and passing those exams with the best possible results. He had been forced to dismiss Grace, along with every other social aspect of his life. And he’d learned to dismiss any emotion that could threaten his goals.
But he had never forgotten how simple and happy his life at medical school had been up until that point.
And, if he was honest, he’d never forgotten that night with Grace...
He could never go back, of course, but the pull of even connecting with it from a distance was surprisingly compelling. And what harm could it do? His life wasn’t about to change. He had his boys and he had his job and that was all he needed. All he could ever hope for.
But Grace had been special. And there was something about her that made him think that, perhaps—like him—life hadn’t quite turned out the way she’d planned. Or deserved?
‘Shall we stop and say hello to Horse before we go upstairs?’
‘Yes...’ The tug on his hands was in a forward direction now, instead of a reluctant weight he was encouraging to follow him. ‘Let’s go, Daddy...’
‘SO HERE’S THE THING...’
‘Mmm?’ Grace was still trying to get her head around hearing Charles Davenport’s voice on a phone for the first time ever.
The twang of a New York accent had probably been mellowed by so many years at exclusive, private schools but his enunciation was crisp. Decisive, even. It made her think of someone in a suit. Presenting a killer summary in a courtroom, perhaps. Or detailing a take-over bid in the boardroom of a global company.
She was sitting cross-legged on the couch in Helena’s apartment, a take-out container of pad Thai on her lap and a pair of chopsticks now idle in her hands. She was in her pyjamas already, thanks to getting soaked in the tail end of the storm during her long walk home from the nearest subway station.
Was her attire partly responsible for hearing that slightly gravelly edge to Charles’s voice that made her think that he would sound just like that if his head was on a pillow, very close to her own?
‘Sorry...did you say your neighbour’s name was Houston? As in “Houston, we have a problem”?’
The chuckle of laughter came out of the phone and went straight for somewhere deep in Grace’s chest. Or maybe her belly. It created a warmth that brought a smile to her face.
‘Exactly. It’s their dog that’s called Houston and they chose the name on the first day they brought him home as a puppy when they found what he’d left in the middle of their white carpet.’
The