Christmas at Candlebark Farm by Michelle Douglas Read Free Book Online Page B

father of her baby—to help her out, but she didn’t have any other family either. She’d told him her mother was dead and that her father wasn’t around, but what about siblings, aunts and uncles…grandparents?
    For a moment she looked so forlorn and alone he found himself reaching out to squeeze her hand. To choose to have a baby with virtually no support at all—the very idea stole his breath. This woman—she had courage and strength in spades. His admiration for her grew. Right alongside that pesky protectiveness.
    It wasn’t his place to be protective. He didn’t want to get involved. He didn’t want his hormones hitting overdrive every time the scent of vanilla drifted across to him. He didn’t want concerns about whether her morning sickness had returned, or if she was eating enough, if she was getting enough rest, plaguing him. His every instinct screamed Run!
    This woman’s life was none of his business.
    But she had no one, and she was only here for one measly week—five more days. Helping out where he could wouldn’t kill him.
    â€˜Keira, soon you’ll have your baby. You’ll be starting a brand new family.’
    She squeezed his hand back, and that spark jumped between them again. He knew she felt it too, from the way she let go of his hand at the same moment he let go of hers, and by the way her glance skittered away.
    She covered her stomach with her hand and stared down at it. He found it hard to imagine her rounded and full with child. She’d still be beautiful.
    â€˜I can hardly wait,’ she said, her eyes shining.
    For the first time in a long time Luke’s lips stretched into a smile. It didn’t hurt, it wasn’t forced—merely an uncomplicated sign of pleasure at her simple sincerity and excitement. ‘I forgot to say something the other night.’
    Her eyes widened. ‘What’s that?’
    A hint of breathlessness rippled through her voice. It made the surface of his skin tingle. ‘I didn’t congratulate you on your pregnancy. Congratulations, Keira. I wish you and your baby all the very best.’
    To his astonishment, he found he wasn’t merely going through the motions—he meant it. She looked as if she might actually melt, so he sat back and made his voice deliberately businesslike. ‘So you’ve inherited this house…?’
    â€˜Which really couldn’t have come at a better time. The money from the sale means I’ll be able set up my own clinic in the city. I’d really love to have all that finalised before my Munchkin makes its appearance.’
    â€˜Clinic?’ He shouldn’t be asking about this clinic of hers. He should be asking about her aunt’s house. If she needed a builder, then obviously the house needed repairs. ‘What kind of clinic?’
    â€˜I’m a physiotherapist. I specialise in post-surgical rehabilitation and sports injuries. At the moment I’m working at a private hospital, but I’ve always dreamed of opening my ownclinic.’ She grinned and polished off the last of the cheese. ‘And because of my great-aunt now I can.’
    â€˜You’re a physio?’ His jaw dropped. This slip of a girl was a physiotherapist? He didn’t know why he found that so hard to believe. If he’d stopped to consider it at all, he’d have pegged her as a preschool teacher or an artist. A job where her bubbliness and enthusiasm could really shine. But a physiotherapist? It sounded so responsible and serious.
    She’d look cute in a white coat, though.
    Settle!
    â€˜What?’ she teased. ‘You don’t think I’m old enough to be a physio?’
    If he said yes, would that offend or flatter her? He didn’t want to do either.
    She threw her head back and laughed, so he settled for saying nothing. But his lips started to lift again.
    â€˜How old are you ?’
    It was a friendly challenge. He