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About the Author
As a child, SARAH MORGAN dreamed of being a writer and, although she took a few interesting detours on the way, she is now living that dream. She firmly believes that reading romance is one of the most satisfying and fat-free escapist pleasures available. Her stories are unashamedly optimistic and she is always pleased when she receives letters from readers saying that her books have helped them through hard times.
Sarah lives near London with her husband and two children, who innocently provide an endless supply of authentic dialogue. When she isn’t writing or nagging about homework, Sarah enjoys music, movies, and any activity that takes her outdoors.
Angels in the Snow
Daniel
Sarah Morgan
Patrick
Sarah Morgan
MILLS & BOON
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To Lucy,
whose happy smile and cheerful nature
never fail to brighten my day
PROLOGUE
‘I’M OVER him. Really. That’s why I’m back.’ Stella stamped the snow from her boots and levered them off on the doorstep of the converted stable. ‘Two years is a long time. Long enough to gain some perspective on things.’ She glanced at the man next to her and caught her breath because he was so like his brother. And yet so different. This man hadn’t smashed her dreams into a million tiny pieces. ‘Are you sure it’s a good idea for me to live in your stable?’
‘It’s nearly Christmas,’ he drawled, a gleam of humour in his eyes as he stood aside to let her pass. ‘A stable is prime accommodation, haven’t you heard?’
Stella smiled, but beneath the smile was a shiver of trepidation.
Christmas.
Once, it had been her favourite time of year. But that had been before every glittering silver bauble reminded her of the engagement ring she’d worn for such a short space of time.
Putting her life back together had taken time, effort and determination. And she was about to test just how far she’d come.
She’d kept her emotions safely boxed away, like Christmas decorations that were no longer needed. What if the box suddenly opened, spilling all those emotions back into her life?
For a terrifying moment it felt as though two years of healing was about to be undone and Stella stepped quickly inside her new home, hiding her feelings from the man watching her. He was a doctor as well as a friend. She knew how much he saw.
Her feet sank into the soft, cream rug that covered much of the pale wooden floor and she blinked rapidly to clear the tears, angry with herself. No more tears, wasn’t that what she’d promised herself? ‘I suspect this is a little more comfortable than the original stable. You’ve performed miracles, Patrick. When I last saw this two years ago, it still had a horse in it.’ She was making polite conversation but it was impossible to ignore the gnawing anxiety in her stomach.
‘Stella, will you drop the act?’ He slammed the door shut on the snow and the freezing December air. ‘You’re a nervous wreck. Pale. Jumpy. Looking over your shoulder in case Daniel suddenly turns up. He isn’t going to. He’s up to his elbows in blood and drama at the hospital. It’s just you and me. We drowned our sorrows together two years ago. If you can’t be honest with me, who can you be honest with?’
Stella tugged off her gloves. ‘He’s your brother. That makes it awkward.’
‘The fact that he’s my brother doesn’t blind me to his faults.’ Patrick dropped the keys on the table. ‘Neither does it affect our friendship. We kept each other going over that nightmare Christmas. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that.’
Stella felt her insides wobble and wondered whether it was a mistake to pursue this conversation. In a way it had been easier living and working among people who didn’t know—people who weren’t watching to see how she was coping. ‘I’m nervous about seeing him,’ she said finally. ‘Of course I am.’
‘I’m not surprised. Stella, you were engaged.’
‘For about five minutes.’ She walked towards the wood-burning stove and stared at the glass. ‘I just wish he hadn’t broken it off at Christmas. It made it harder, somehow.’
‘He shouldn’t have broken it off at all.’
‘That was inevitable.’ She turned, resigned to having the conversation she’d hoped to avoid. ‘Daniel doesn’t believe he’d be a good husband and he definitely doesn’t think he’d be a good father—you know how his mind works. The surprise wasn’t that he broke off the engagement, but that he proposed to me in the first place. If I’d been stronger, I would have said no. I knew it wasn’t what he wanted.’ Lost in thought, dwelling in the land of ‘what if’, Stella lifted one of the logs piled in a basket, ready to be used on the fire, and rubbed her fingers along the rough bark. Then she looked at Patrick. ‘Enough of me. How are you doing? If anything, that Christmas was worse for you than it was for me. Your wife left.’
‘The difference is that Carly and I weren’t in love. I was angry with her for ending it at Christmas, and I feel for the children not having a mother around, but for myself …’ He gave a dismissive shrug. ‘The one thing about being unhappily married is that divorce feels like a blessing. But I’m aware that I’m probably part of the reason that Daniel got cold feet.’
‘I think it was more like frostbite than cold feet,’ Stella said lightly, ‘and it wasn’t your fault.’
‘Carly walked out on Christmas Eve. Daniel broke off your engagement on the same day. Believe me, there was a connection.’
Remembering just how awful that Christmas had been for both of them, Stella sighed. ‘You and I spent it on our own, trying to smile around your kids, do you remember?’
‘I remember that you were brave,’ Patrick said gruffly, reaching out and squeezing her shoulder. ‘After Daniel walked out, you disappeared for five minutes and then came back with your make-up on and a smile on your face, determined to give my children a good time. Because of you, I don’t think Alfie even noticed that his mother wasn’t there.’
‘The children gave me something to focus on. And you and I did share that bottle of champagne, which helped. And we ate every scrap of chocolate from the Christmas tree.’
‘Then I went and picked up a kitten from the farmer next door, do you remember?’
It was one of the few happy memories among the miserable ones. ‘Giving Alfie that kitten was an inspired idea. And it was gorgeous. ‘
‘That kitten is now a cat and has just produced kittens of her own.’
‘Really?