LITMIR.BIZ

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of a tragedy had befallen her in the past and what he could do to help her get over it.

      He sucked in another lungful of air but the facts had to be faced. Why should he imagine that Heather Cooper needed his help?

      ‘And the little puppy snuggled up in his basket and fell fast asleep.’

      Heather closed the book and quietly placed it on the bedside cabinet. Standing up, she tucked the quilt around her small daughter, feeling a wave of love wash over her as she looked at the sleeping child.

      Grace had just turned two and each day she grew more like Stewart to look at. She had Stewart’s mop of dark brown curls, the same deep blue eyes and wonderful smile. Grace was living proof of their love for one another, the child they had both longed for. How proud Stewart would have been of his tiny daughter.

      Tears stung Heather’s eyes and she quickly blinked them away as she bent to turn off the lamp. She hadn’t allowed herself to cry since Grace had been born and she had no intention of breaking her rule now. She didn’t want Grace to grow up surrounded by sadness. Far better to keep her emotions in check rather than let them affect her precious daughter, even though today it was proving unusually difficult. Had it anything to do with meeting Ross Tanner, perhaps?

      ‘Supper’s ready, Heather.’

      Heather jumped as her mother, Sandra, popped her head round the bedroom door. She tried to dismiss the idea as she followed the older woman to the kitchen but the thought that Ross Tanner might have had an effect on how she had behaved alarmed her. She didn’t even know the man so how could he be responsible for her loss of self-control?

      ‘It’s only shepherd’s pie, I’m afraid. I didn’t get a chance to go to the supermarket.’

      ‘It’s fine, Mum.’ Heather sat at the table and took the plate Sandra handed her with a grateful smile. ‘I’m only glad that I don’t have to set to and start making a meal for myself when I get home from work. You spoil me, you know that, don’t you?’

      ‘If I can’t spoil my own daughter then who can I spoil?’ Sandra said lightly, taking her own seat.

      ‘Your granddaughter?’ Heather laughed when her mother grimaced. ‘Grace told me that you’d taken her to see the ducks after nursery school. And then she did just happen to mention something about going on the swings as well.’

      ‘I enjoy playing with her. Anyway, the playground is on our way home and you meet a lot of nice people there, too.’

      Heather frowned when she saw a little colour run up her mother’s cheeks. If she wasn’t mistaken, Sandra was blushing. She put down her knife and fork and stared at her.

      ‘These nice people you meet—is there anyone in particular you’re referring to?’

      ‘Well, yes, actually.’ Sandra stared at her plate for a moment then seemed to make up her mind. ‘There’s this very nice man who I’ve met at the playground a number of times. He’s a widower and he has a little grandson. He…well, he asked me if I’d like to go out for a drink with him one night.’

      ‘Did he indeed? And what did you say?’ Heather hid her surprise because it was the first time that her mother had shown any interest in socialising since she’d moved to London to help her look after Grace.

      Heather’s parents had divorced when she’d been in her teens and her father had remarried shortly afterwards and moved to California with his new wife. Apart from a yearly Christmas card, Heather had very little contact with him.

      Her mother had never remarried although she’d had a wide circle of friends of both sexes back home in Manchester. It suddenly struck Heather how much Sandra had given up when she’d moved to London, and how lonely she must have been without her friends. How selfish of her not to have thought about that before.

      ‘I hope you said yes, Mum.’ She reached over the table and squeezed Sandra’s hand. ‘It’s about time you went out and had some fun!’

      ‘So you think it’s all right for me to accept, then?’ Sandra sounded worried. ‘I told David—that’s his name, David Harper—that I would need to think about it first, you see.’

      ‘What on earth is there to think about?’ Heather regarded her mother sternly. ‘Tell him that you’ll go, Mum. That’s an order!’

      ‘All right, I will.’ Sandra squared her shoulders then looked steadily at Heather. ‘But what you just said, about it being time I had some fun, applies to you, too, darling. Stewart wouldn’t want you to grieve for ever. He’d want you to get on with your life and make the most of it.’

      ‘That’s exactly what I’m doing.’ Heather picked up her fork. She swallowed a mouthful of mashed potato but it tasted like sawdust all of a sudden.

      ‘There’s more to life than working and looking after Grace,’ Sandra said quietly, then changed the subject to what Grace had done after they had arrived home that afternoon.

      Heather made appropriate responses but she couldn’t seem to give her small daughter’s antics her undivided attention as she usually did. Was her mother right? Was it time that she looked for more out of life than just her work and caring for Grace?

      Her mind veered off towards what that more might entail and she felt her heart spasm in panic. She wouldn’t risk falling in love again! Even if she found a man who could match Stewart in her estimation—which was highly unlikely—she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t face the heartache if anything happened to him, too. What she’d said to that fireman today about the unexpected happening had been true. He, more than anyone, must know that.

      In Ross Tanner’s world life and death were too closely linked to be discounted. It made her wonder how any woman could bear to fall in love with a man who put himself in constant danger like that. How did a woman cope with the thought that the man she loved might not come home one day? She certainly couldn’t, which made it all the more imperative that she steer clear of Tanner.

      The thought brought her up short. She wouldn’t see Ross Tanner again so what was she worrying about? They had fleetingly crossed paths that day and that was the end of the matter.

      Heather shivered as the cool finger of premonition suddenly slid down her spine. Or had it been merely the beginning and not the end?

      ‘Thanks, Jane. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me.’

      Ross kissed the ward sister’s cheek. It was Monday morning and, after a lot of persuasion on his behalf, he’d finally been discharged. The consultant had been inclined to keep him in another day but in the end he’d relented after Ross had promised to come straight back if he experienced any problems. To his mind, it was a lot of fuss about nothing, but he did appreciate the excellent care he’d received.

      He left the ward and headed for the lift. He knew that he could have asked any one of the crew from Red Watch to collect him but he’d decided to take a taxi back to his flat. Maybe he was making a big mistake but there was something he needed to do before he left.

      Sign boards directed him to the accident and emergency unit when he reached the ground floor so he had no difficulty finding his way. The waiting area was packed with people and Ross hesitated. Maybe this wasn’t a good time to talk to Heather when she was so busy.

      The thought had barely crossed his mind when he spotted her leaving a cubicle and, without pausing to reconsider, he hurried after her. ‘Heather!’

      It seemed the most natural thing in the world to call out her first name, natural and right. Dr Cooper was too formal, Ms Cooper impolite, so how else would he address her? And yet Ross wasn’t prepared for the way it made him feel as her name rolled off his tongue. Heather.

      He repeated it in his head and felt the heat that flowed through him as he savoured it once more. In that moment Ross knew that it might have been the first time he’d said it but it wouldn’t be the last. Definitely not!

      He saw her turn, saw the alarm that

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