A Family To Belong To - Natasha Oakley Mills & Boon Cherish

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and was hurting. This wasn’t the time to feel envy.

      Because it was envy. Kate recognised it but felt powerless to do anything about it, even though she knew it twisted and distorted her life.

      Six years since she’d done this journey and yet she remembered it perfectly. She knew the ancient oak tree that stood proudly on the corner just before she had to turn left and the old pub on the corner. It was all achingly familiar. Round the next bend was the hotel where they played croquet on a summer afternoon.

      And if she could have turned away and run she would have. It hurt. Just being here hurt. Knowing that in a few short minutes she’d be sitting in Debbie’s house drinking tea and hearing her children playing somewhere in the house would hurt. Desperately.

      She wouldn’t take anything away from Debbie. She loved her. It was just she wanted a little of her happiness. She wanted to know what it was like to hold a newborn baby, to feel its soft little body curved into hers and know she was a mother.

      Kate took the car past the hotel and on towards Debbie’s house. Every day there was this intense pain, a huge sense of loss. A column of ice running the length of her body. It didn’t matter that she’d managed to break into a career other people envied, or that she’d bought herself a great flat in Highgate, drove a trendy car. She knew she was a failure. Deep down.

      She’d known it when Richard had walked out the door and closed it firmly behind him. He wanted children. Non-negotiable. And if he couldn’t have them with her he was going to have them with someone else.

      He’d loved her. Of course he’d loved her. He’d told her. Just not enough.

      Not enough. His words echoed in her head.

      Over two years ago. The fifteenth of January. On a Sunday. From that day on she’d known it wasn’t just children she’d never be able to have. It was a normal life. The one thing she’d craved since her step-dad had put her in care.

      She hadn’t been enough for Richard. She wasn’t enough on her own—and he’d left. Left her incomplete and hurting.

      Two months before she had left for Los Angeles. The opportunity of a lifetime—and one she’d needed to survive. And she had survived.

      As had Gideon.

      Kate slipped into second gear and rounded the final bend. There was no turning back now. She was here to say goodbye to Aunt Babs. Goodbye and thank you.

      CHAPTER TWO

      GIDEON decided to wait before collecting his children. Give Debbie time to see Kate before he arrived.

      He drove straight past her neat nineteen-fifties semi and down towards the coast. Debbie had been so anxious about whether Kate would be able to make it. He didn’t want to intrude. It was bad enough he hadn’t got any choice but to accept her help with Tilly and Jemima. It was too much for her.

      The seafront car park was completely deserted, which was hardly surprising this early in the year. The rain had started to fall in fat, heavy drops, which meant the walk along the pebble beach he’d have liked to clear his head wasn’t really possible.

      Instead he switched on the radio and watched the wind catch at the waves. The sea was a fair way out now, but at high tide it would be quite spectacular. Primal. This was just the best place on earth. He couldn’t imagine living away from here. All those years he’d spent in cities. People crammed together, rushing around with no time for each other. Look at Kate Simmonds. Somewhere along the line she’d forgotten what was important.

      His mind dwelt for a moment on the woman he’d met on the ferry. Possibly she was what he’d expected. She was as carefully turned out as she was on the television, except perhaps her hair was less well groomed. He smiled. On television it fell in a smooth, swinging bob. On balance he preferred it windswept and blown around her face. Made her seem more approachable. More real.

      His fingers reached out to re-tune the radio away from the high-pitched woman who was screeching about needing nothing but love. Not much chance of that if she yelled all the time. He flicked through the pre-set channels before settling on the classical one and then laid his head back on the headrest and closed his eyes.

      On television Kate seemed commanding and playful. The personification of glossy, successful living. The flesh and blood woman was more confused. Vulnerable. That was the word. Katie Simmonds had always been vulnerable.

      And beautiful.

      He didn’t quite know where that thought had come from, but she was beautiful. She had a restful, intelligent face. One that came alive because of her eyes.

      He remembered her eyes. How they could laugh while the rest of her face was impassive. And how they’d followed him around, devoted. It had been quite unnerving being the object of a teenage crush. He smiled as he wondered whether she remembered.

      It certainly wouldn’t happen now. Life had moved on for the cosmopolitan Kate Simmonds. She wouldn’t give a man like him the time of day. Preoccupied, exhausted and old beyond his years. What was there about him that would interest her in the slightest? God knew why that should bother him, but it did.

      Kate felt sick. It was as though she’d been punched hard in the stomach and was left reeling on the floor.

      Debbie was pregnant.

      Very pregnant.

      She lifted her hand and waved at Debbie, who was standing in the doorway, before reaching down into the foot-well for her handbag. It was a chance to hide her face for a second. Give her a moment to school her features into delight.

      Why hadn’t Debbie warned her? Told her she was expecting a baby, so she could prepare herself?

      But she knew why.

      Debbie wouldn’t have known how to find the words. Not when she knew how much Kate’s infertility still hurt her. She brushed a hand over her face and opened the door, pulling her collar up against the rain.

      ‘You’d better make a run for it,’ Debbie called into the wind, one hand cradled protectively over her stomach. ‘It doesn’t look like the rain’s going to stop any time soon.’

      Kate slammed the door shut and scurried into the house. ‘This is vicious weather.’

      ‘You’d better give me your coat. I’ll hang it in the utility room to dry,’ Debbie offered practically. She waited while Kate unbuttoned it and handed it over before she said, ‘We’ll bring in your case later.’

      ‘I don’t know…Debs, I…’ Kate began awkwardly, her eyes drifting to Debbie’s distended stomach. ‘I think I might be better off staying at your mum’s. I don’t want to get in the way. I—’

      Debbie smiled tearfully and then nodded. ‘I know, Kate. I do understand. Particularly with me like this.’ She turned and walked through the kitchen to the utility room.

      Kate followed her as far as the kitchen and stood with her back against the melamine worktop. What was the matter with her? Why couldn’t she do this? She’d known since she was twenty-two that she couldn’t have children. It wasn’t a new discovery.

      ‘I thought you’d say that,’ Debbie said, coming back into the room. ‘I put fresh sheets over there yesterday afternoon. I just hoped you might be able to.’

      Guilt washed over her. ‘You know I’m really pleased for you. It’s just—’

      ‘Difficult for you,’ Debbie finished for her.

      Kate tried to smile but it didn’t quite work. The corners of her mouth lifted but her breath caught in her throat in a painful lump. Difficult didn’t even begin to describe how painful she found being around pregnant women and babies.

      She’d had six years to become accustomed to the knowledge she’d never have children. Six years since a ruptured appendix had changed her life.

      Every

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