The Nurse's Christmas Gift. Tina Beckett

of what he hadn’t been able to accomplish on this trip. At least he hoped so.

      Three years of running from his past had changed nothing. Maybe it was time to start living in the present. To sign the papers he’d left behind and to finally let go of the past once and for all.

      Shedding his parka and throwing his belongings onto a nearby leather sofa with a sigh, he surveyed the place. With its white-painted walls and comfortable furniture, it wasn’t huge or fancy, but it was big enough for a landing place, at least until he could figure out where he wanted to park his butt for the long haul. Sienna McDonald had sent pictures of several possibilities that were just a short distance from the hospital, and he’d settled on this one, the cottage’s quaint one-bedroom floor plan made more attractive by the small private garden off the back. This was the place.

      He could finally sell his flat back in London.

      And maybe it was time to call his solicitor and have him complete the process—to cut any remaining ties with a certain dark period in his life.

      He spied a piece of paper on the table in the dining room and stiffened, before he realised it couldn’t be from her. She had no idea where he was right now. And she hadn’t tried to find him over the last couple of years. At least not that he knew of.

      Wandering over to the note, he placed a finger on the pink stationery and cocked his head as he made out the cheerful words.

      ‘Welcome to Cheltenham and to Teddy’s! I’ve put some milk, cheese and cold meat in the fridge, and there is bread and sweets in the cupboard along with some other staples to help get you started. The boiler is lit, instructions are on the unit. I hope you’re ready to work, because I am more than ready for a rest!’

      She’d signed her name with a flourish at the end.

      Sweets, eh? That made him smile. But he was glad for the boiler, as snow was expected to hit any day and the temperatures had been steadily dropping. His body was still trying to adjust to the chill after all those months dealing with the hot temperatures of Sudan.

      He was due at Teddy’s in the morning to start his contract, replacing Sienna McDonald when she went on maternity leave. She’d sent him a letter as he was packing for the flight telling him to get ready for a wild ride. There was a winter virus running through the halls of the hospital, affecting patients and staff alike. They were short-staffed and overworked.

      He was ready. Anything to keep his mind off his previous life.

      And the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Sienna would be there to show him the ropes, and Max would have time to adjust to being back in a modern hospital, where day-to-day life was not always a life and death struggle.

      Well, that was not entirely true. In the world of paediatric cardiothoracic medicine, things were often about life and death, but they were caused by the battle raging within the person’s body, not the cruel deeds done by one human against another. And with Doctors Without Borders, he had seen his share of war and the horrific results of it.

      His mind headed to a darker place, and Max forced it back to the mundane tasks he had to accomplish before his first shift tomorrow morning: shave the scruff of several weeks off his face, unpack, hunt down a vehicle to use.

      With that in mind, he headed to the refrigerator to find something to eat. And then he would face the day, and hopefully get ready to face his future...and his first step towards banishing the past, once and for all.

      * * *

      Annabelle Brookes couldn’t believe how crowded the ward was. All the beds were full, and patients were seemingly crammed into every nook and cranny. The winter virus was not only sending people flooding into the hospital, but it was sending staff flooding out—multiple nurses and doctors had all become ill over the past several days. So far she had steered clear of its path, but who knew how long that would hold? She was frankly exhausted and, with six hours left to her shift, she was sure she would be dead on her feet by the time she headed home.

      Despite it all, she was glad Ella O’Brien had pestered her until she’d agreed to come to Cheltenham a year ago. Maybe because her friend had recognised the signs of depression and the deadly spiral her life had taken after her husband had left for parts unknown. Whatever it had been, Annabelle felt she was finally getting her life back under control. She had Ella to thank for that. And for helping her land this plum position.

      Head neonatal nurse was a dream come true for her. She might not be able to have children of her own, but she was happy to be able to rock, hold and treat other people’s babies all day long. Working at the same hospital as her midwife friend also meant there was plenty of time for girlie outings and things to take her mind off her own problems.

      She let her fingers run across a draping of tinsel against a doorway as she went by, the cool slide of glittery metal helping relax her frazzled nerves.

      Tucking a strand of hair back into the plait that ran halfway down her back, she dodged people and patients alike as she made her way towards the nursery and her next patient: Baby Doe, aka Baby Hope.

      The baby had been abandoned by her mother—who was little more than a baby herself—and Annabelle felt a special affinity with this tiny creature. After all, hadn’t Annabelle been dumped by the person who should have loved her the most but left her languishing with a broken heart? No. Actually, Annabelle had done the dumping, but her heart had still splintered into pieces.

      Baby Hope’s heart was literally broken, whereas Annabelle’s was merely...

      She stiffened her jaw. No. Her heart was just fine, thank you very much.

      Was that why that paperwork was still sitting on a shelf gathering dust? And it was too. Annabelle had cleaned around the beige envelope over the past couple of years, but hadn’t been able to bring herself to touch it, much less open it and read the contents. Because she already knew what they said. She had been the one to do the filing.

      But Max had never responded. Or sent his signed copy back to her solicitor.

      And if he had? What then?

      She had no idea.

      As she rounded the nurses’ station to check the schedule and see what other cases she’d been assigned for the day, the phone rang. A nurse sitting behind the desk picked up the phone, waving at her as she answered the call.

      ‘Baby Doe? Oh, yes, Annabelle just arrived. I’ll send her in.’ She set the phone down.

      Maybe the first order of business after her divorce should be to officially get rid of her married name. It still hurt to have it attached to her, even though she no longer went by Annabelle Ainsley.

      ‘Miss McDonald and her replacement are doing rounds and are ready to examine the baby. Do you mind filling them in on what’s happened over the last few hours?’

      ‘On my way.’ Annabelle had already been headed towards the glass window that made up the viewing area of the special care baby unit, so it was perfect timing. Arriving on the floor, she spotted a heavily pregnant Sienna McDonald ducking into the room. The neonatal cardiothoracic surgeon had been overseeing Baby Doe’s care as they waited for an available heart for the sick infant. Another man, wearing a lab coat and sporting dark washed jeans, went in behind Sienna. She could only catch a glimpse of a strong back and thick black hair, but something inside her took a funny little turn at the familiar way the man moved.

      Shaking her head to clear it, she reached the door a few seconds later and slid inside.

      She headed towards the baby’s cot, finding Sienna and the other doctor—their backs to her—hovering over it.

      About to step around to the other side, the stranger raised the top of the unit. ‘Her colour doesn’t look good.’

      Annabelle stifled a gasp, stopping in her tracks for several horrified seconds. She lifted her eyes and stared at the man’s back.

      That voice.

      Those gruff masculine tones were definitely not the feminine