Bushfire Bride. Marion Lennox
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Praise for Marion Lennox:
‘Lennox brings this endearing story of Christmas wishes coming true. This romance is sure to touch your heart and make you start believing in miracles, especially at Christmas time.’
—RT Book Reviews on Dynamite Doc or Christmas Dad?
About the Author
MARION LENNOX is a country girl, born on an Australian dairy farm. She moved on—mostly because the cows just weren’t interested in her stories! Married to a ‘very special doctor’, Marion writes Medical™ Romances, as well as Mills & Boon® Romances. (She used a different name for each category for a while—if you’re looking for her past Romances search for author Trisha David as well.) She’s now had well over 90 novels accepted for publication.
In her non-writing life Marion cares for kids, cats, dogs, chooks and goldfish. She travels, she fights her rampant garden (she’s losing) and her house dust (she’s lost). Having spun in circles for the first part of her life, she’s now stepped back from her ‘other’ career, which was teaching statistics at her local university. Finally she’s reprioritised her life, figured out what’s important, and discovered the joys of deep baths, romance and chocolate. Preferably all at the same time!
Recent titles by Marion Lennox: Mills & Boon® Medical Romance™
MIRACLE ON KAIMOTU ISLAND (Earthquake!) THE SURGEON’S DOORSTEP BABY SYDNEY HARBOUR HOSPITAL: LILY’S SCANDAL (Sydney Harbour Hospital) DYNAMITE DOC OR CHRISTMAS DAD? THE DOCTOR AND THE RUNAWAY HEIRESS
Mills & Boon® Cherish™
SPARKS FLY WITH THE BILLIONAIRE
A BRIDE FOR THE MAVERICK MILLIONAIRE (Journey through the Outback) HER OUTBACK RESCUER (Journey through the Outback) NIKKI AND THE LONE WOLF (Banksia Bay) MARDIE AND THE CITY SURGEON (Banksia Bay)
Bushfire Bride
Marion Lennox
MILLS & BOON
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PROLOGUE
THE thin blue line rose and fell. Rose and fell. Rose and fell.
How long does love last?
The young woman by the bed should surely know. She sat and watched now as she’d sat and watched for years.
‘I love you, Craig,’ she whispered, but there was no answer. There was never an answer.
Dappled sunlight fell over lifeless fingers. Beloved eyes, once so full of life and laughter, stayed closed.
The blue line rose and fell. Rose and fell.
‘I love you, Craig,’ she whispered again, and blessed his face with her fingers. ‘My love …’
How long does love last?
For ever?
CHAPTER ONE
‘SHE may be beautiful but I bet she’s stupid.’
Dr Rachel Harper’s hamburger paused midway to her mouth. Tomato sauce oozed onto her T-shirt, but her T-shirt was disgusting already. The sauce was the same colour as her pants. Hey—she was colour co-ordinated!
She was also distracted.
‘Look at her hair,’ the voice was saying. ‘It’d cost a fortune to keep it like that, and what for? She’s a blonde bimbo, Toby, mark my words. A gorgeous piece of fluff.’
‘But she’s got lovely legs.’ The child’s words were a thoughtful response to the man’s deep rumble. ‘And she’s got really nice eyes.’
‘Never be taken in by appearances, Toby,’ the deep voice decreed. ‘Under that gorgeous exterior, she’s nothing but a twit.’
Enough! Rachel might be a reluctant protector, but she was here to defend and defend she would. She hitched back the curtain and faced the world.
Or, to be precise, she faced the Cowral dog show.
The pavilion was packed and she’d retreated with her hamburger for a little privacy. The cubicles behind each dog weren’t big enough to swing a cat—or a dog—but at least they were private.
Who was criticising Penelope?
‘Hey!’ she said, and a man and a child turned to stare. She wiped a smudge of tomato sauce from her chin and stared right back.
Penelope’s detractor was in his mid-thirties, she guessed. Maybe he was a farmer? That’s what he looked like. He was wearing moleskins and a khaki shirt of the type that all the farmers around here seemed to wear. His curly black hair just reached his collar. He had deep brown, crinkly eyes and, with his deeply tanned skin, he looked …
Nice, Rachel decided. In fact, if she was being critical—and she was definitely in the mood for being critical—he looked more than nice. He looked gorgeous! The small boy beside him was aged about six, and he was a miniature replica. They had to be father and son.
Father and son. Family. The man was therefore married.
Married? Why was she wondering about married?
She gave herself a swift mental swipe for thinking of any such thing. Dottie had been doing her work too well. Why would Rachel possibly be interested in whether a complete stranger had a partner?
She was here with Michael.
But, then, who was she kidding? She was interested in anyone but Michael—married or not. The fact that she was married herself didn’t—couldn’t—matter. Dr Rachel Harper had reached her limit.