Capturing The Single Dad's Heart. Kate Hardy

hard way.

      But this wasn’t about her baggage. It was about helping Nate.

      ‘It’s pretty hard to cope with normal life when you’re a junior doctor,’ she said, ‘let alone a baby.’

      ‘Tell me about it,’ he said ruefully. ‘I was working—well, you know yourself the hours you work when you’re a junior doctor. So I was too tired to take over baby duties from Steph when I got home from work. She’d had to put her plans on hold. Instead of doing a postgraduate course to train as a teacher, she was stuck at home with the baby all day and every day, so I totally understand why she was fed up with me. I should’ve done a lot more and supported her better.’

      ‘You were working long hours and studying as well. All you can do is your best,’ Erin said.

      ‘I tried, but it wasn’t enough. Steph left me in the end, when Caitlin was three. They moved away.’ He grimaced. ‘I should’ve moved with them instead of staying in London.’

      ‘You’re a spinal surgeon,’ Erin pointed out. ‘There aren’t spinal units in every single hospital in the country, and you were, what, twenty-five when she left?’ At his nod, she continued, ‘Back then you would still have been studying for your surgeon’s exams. Even if you’d found another spinal unit close to wherever Steph and Caitlin had moved, there’s no guarantee they would’ve had a training place for you. It’s not like working in an emergency department or in maternity, where there’s a bit more flexibility and you can move hospitals a little more easily if you have to.’

      ‘It’s still my fault. Maybe I specialised too soon, or I should’ve just stopped being selfish and realised I couldn’t follow my dreams. Maybe I should’ve compromised by moving specialties and working in the emergency department instead,’ he said. ‘Steph and Caitlin ended up living in Devon, a five-hour drive from me. So I got to see her on the odd weekend, and she used to come and stay with me sometimes in the holidays, but that’s nothing like living with someone all the time. I feel as if we’re almost strangers. And she hates living with me.’

      ‘So why is she living with you? Is her mum ill?’

      ‘No.’ He winced. ‘As I said, she didn’t get on with her mum’s new husband. Steph said Caitlin’s a nightmare teenager and it was about time I did my share of parenting—so she sent Caitlin to live with me.’

      Erin went cold.

      A difficult teenager who didn’t get on with her mother’s new man, kicked out of home by her mother and sent to live with her father. Erin knew that story well. Had lived through every second of it in misery herself, thirteen years ago. ‘When did this happen?’

      ‘Just over a month ago.’

      A few days before he’d started his new job. Not great timing for either of them. And now Erin understood exactly why Nate didn’t socialise with the team. He needed to spend the time with his daughter and build their relationship properly.

      ‘So she’s moved somewhere she doesn’t know, miles away from all her friends and everyone she’s grown up with, and she’s got to settle in to a new school as well.’

      ‘Which would be a huge change for anyone,’ he agreed, ‘but it’s harder still when you’re thirteen years old. And I’m clueless, Erin. I don’t know how to deal with this. I’m way out of my depth. I asked Steph what to do, and...’ He stopped abruptly.

      Clearly his ex hadn’t been able to help much. Or maybe she hadn’t been willing to offer advice. Erin knew that one first-hand, too. Erin’s mother had washed her hands of her, the day she’d kicked Erin out. And even now, all these years later, their relationship was difficult.

      But Erin liked the fact that Nate was clearly trying hard to be fair and shoulder his share of the blame for things going wrong, rather than refusing to accept any responsibility and claiming that it was all his ex’s fault. ‘It sounds to me as if you need a friend—someone’s who’s been there and understands thirteen-year-old girls,’ she said carefully.

      He blinked. ‘You’re telling me you have a thirteen-year-old? But you don’t look old enough.’

      ‘I’m not.’ Though she flinched inwardly. If things had been a little different, she might have had a thirteen-year-old daughter herself right now. But things were as they were. And she still felt a mixture of regret and relief and guilt when she thought about the miscarriage. Regret for a little life that hadn’t really had a chance to start, for the baby she’d never got to know; relief, because when she looked back she knew she hadn’t been mature enough to be a mum at the age of sixteen; and guilt, because she had friends who’d be fantastic parents and were having trouble conceiving, whereas she’d fallen pregnant the very first time she’d had sex. The miscarriage had been her wake-up call, and she’d turned her life round. Studied hard. Passed all her exams, the second time round. Become a doctor. Tried to make a difference and to make up for her mistakes. Not that she would ever be able to make up for the biggest one.

      She pushed the thoughts away. Not now. ‘I was a thirteen-year-old girl once. Although I was a couple of years older than your Caitlin when my parents split up, my mum got involved with someone I loathed and it got a bit messy.’ That was the understatement of the year. ‘So I ended up living with my dad.’ Because her mum hadn’t believed her about Creepy Leonard, Erin had gone even further off the rails—and then she’d made the terrible mistake that had ruined her brother’s life.

      Maybe, just maybe, this could be her chance for payback. To help Nate’s daughter and stop Caitlin making the same mistakes that Erin herself had made.

      ‘So you’ve actually been in Caitlin’s shoes?’ Nate asked, looking surprised.

      ‘From what you’ve just told me, pretty much,’ Erin said.

      He sucked in a breath. ‘I know this is a big ask—because you don’t know me, either—but, as you clearly have a much better idea than I do about what she’s going through, would you be able to help me, so I don’t make things even worse than they are for her right now?’

      ‘I’m not perfect,’ she warned, ‘but yes, I’m happy to try. Maybe we could meet up at the weekend and do something together, so Caitlin can start getting to know me and I can try and get her talking a bit.’

      ‘Thank you.’ He looked at her. ‘And what can I do for you in return?’

      She flapped a dismissive hand. ‘You don’t need to do anything.’

      ‘If you help me, then I need to help you. It’s only fair.’

      She couldn’t resist teasing him. ‘So if I asked you to do a stint in the sensory garden with a bit of weeding or what have you, you’d do it?’

      ‘If that’s what you want, sure.’ He paused. ‘Why is the garden so important to you?’

      It sounded as if he actually wanted to know, rather than criticising her. And he’d shared something with her; maybe he’d feel less awkward about that if she shared something in return. Not the whole story, but enough of the bare bones to stop him asking more questions. ‘Because I know someone who had a really bad car accident and ended up in a wheelchair. He was helped by a sensory garden,’ she said. ‘It was the thing that stopped him going off the edge.’

      ‘Fair enough,’ he said. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way but, if you’re going to help Caitlin and me, I need to ask you something. Is there a husband or a boyfriend who might have a problem with you doing that?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘OK. I just...’ He blew out a breath. ‘Well, I’ve messed up enough of my own relationships. I don’t want to mess up anyone else’s as well.’

      She smiled. ‘Not a problem. There’s nothing to mess up.’

      ‘Good.’ He grimaced. ‘And that sounded bad. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not coming on to you, Erin. I split up with my last girlfriend