The Army Doc's Christmas Angel. Annie O'Neil

       CHAPTER FOUR

       CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

       CHAPTER TWELVE

       CHAPTER THIRTEEN

       CHAPTER FOURTEEN

       CHAPTER FIFTEEN

       Extract

       About the Publisher

       CHAPTER ONE

      “YOU PLANNING ON wearing a track into the floor?”

      Finn looked across at his boss, startled to see him in the hospital given the hour, then gave a nonchalant shrug. “Maybe. What’s it to you?”

      Theo barked a good-natured laugh. “I paid for that floor. I was hoping we could keep it intact for a few more years before your lunking huge feet are embedded in it.”

      Finn looked down at the honey-colored floorboards then up at his boss as he scrubbed his hand through the tangles of his dark hair. About time he got a haircut. Or invested in a comb. It had only been...oh...about fourteen years since he’d given up the buzz cuts. Didn’t stop him from thinking of himself as that fit, adrenaline-charged young man who’d stepped off the plane in Afghanistan all those years ago. Once an army man...

      He took a step forward. The heat from his knee seared straight up his leg to his hip. An excruciating reminder that he was most definitely not an army man. Not ever again.

      He gave Theo a sidelong look. “What are you doing here, anyway? It’s late.”

      “Not that late.” Theo looked at his watch as if that confirmed it was still reasonable to be treading the hospital boards after most folk were at home having their tea. “I could ask you the same question.”

      It was Avoidance Technique for Beginners and both men knew it.

      They stared at one another, without animosity but unwilling to be the first to break. Lone wolf to lone wolf...each laying claim to the silence as if it were an invisible shield of strength.

      Heaven knew why. It was hardly a secret that Finn was treating one of the hospital’s charity patients who was winging in from Africa today. He just...he was grateful to have a bit of quiet time before the boy arrived. His leg pain was off the charts today and once Adao arrived, he’d like to be in a place where he could assure the kid that life without a limb was worth living.

      “Want to talk about it?” Theo looked about as excited to sit down and have a natter about feelings as Finn did.

      “Ha! Good one.” Finn flicked his thumb toward the staff kitchen tucked behind the floor’s reception area. “I’ll just run and fill up the kettle while you cast on for a new Christmas jumper, shall I?”

      Theo smirked then quickly sobered. “I’m just saying, if you ever want to...” he made little talky mouths with his hands “...you know, I’m here.”

      “Thanks, mate.” He hoped he sounded grateful. He was. Not that he’d ever take Theo up on the offer.

      It wasn’t just trusting Theo that was the issue. It was trusting himself. And he wasn’t there yet. Not by a long shot. Days like today were reminders why he’d chosen to live a solitary existence. You got close to people. You disappointed them. And he was done disappointing people.

      Christmas seemed to suck the cheer—what little he had—right out of him. All those reminders of family and friendship and “togetherness.” Whatever the hell that was.

      He didn’t do any of those things. Not anymore.

      All the jolly ward decorations, staffrooms already bursting with mince pies, and festive holiday lights glittering across the whole of Cambridge didn’t seem to make a jot of difference.

      He scanned the view offered by the floor-to-ceiling windows and rolled his eyes.

      He was living in a ruddy 3D Christmas card and wasn’t feeling the slightest tingle of hope and anticipation the holiday season seemed to infuse in everyone else.

      Little wonder considering...

      Considering nothing.

      He had a job. He had to do it. And having his boss appear when he was trying to clear his head before Adao arrived wasn’t helping.

      He’d been hoping to walk the pain off. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes, like today, it escalated the physical and, whether he cared to admit it or not, emotional reminders of the day his life had changed forever.

      Should’ve gone up to the rooftop helipad instead. No one ever really went there in the winter. Although this year the bookies were tipping the scales in favor of snow. Then it really would be like living in a Christmas card.

      “Why are you here? Was there some memo about an all-staff welcoming committee?” Finn knew there wasn’t. He was just giving his boss an out if he wanted it. Bloke talk came in handy for a lot of emotional bullet dodging.

      Theo sighed. “Ivy.”

      Finn lifted his chin in acknowledgement. Her mystery illness had been the talk of all the doctors’ lounges. “Gotta be tough, mate.”

      “’Tis.” Theo flicked his eyes to the heavens, gave his stippled jaw a scrub and gave an exasperated sigh. “I hate seeing her go through this. She’s five years old. You know?”

      Oh, yeah. He knew. It was why he’d retrained as a pediatric surgeon after the IED had gone off during a standard patrol. The loss of life that day had been shameful.

      All of them children.

      Who on this planet targeted children?

      At least he’d had an enemy to rail against. Theo was shooting in the dark at a mystery illness. No wonder the guy had rings under his eyes.

      “Had anything good today?” Topic-changing was his specialty.

      Theo nodded. “A few interesting cases actually.” He rattled through a few of them. “Enough to keep me distracted.”

      Finn huffed out an “I hear you” laugh. Work was the only way he kept his mind off the mess he’d made of his personal life.

       You’re on your own now, mate. Paying your penance, day