my way, but I realised it would be intrusive.’
She wondered how Hugh Strickland would react if he knew that the locals were gossiping about him.
His eyes sought hers again. ‘I suddenly thought how it would be for Ivy to have a strange man turning up on her doorstep on Christmas Eve, claiming—’ He broke off in mid-sentence.
Claiming…what? Jo’s tense hands tightened around the package and the unicorn let out a sharp squeak. She was so uptight that she jumped.
‘So what will you do now?’ she asked.
‘I’ve found a room at the pub.’
‘Oh…good.’
‘I’ll stay there till Christmas is over and I’ll go back to the Martens’ place on Boxing Day.’
Jo thrust the unicorn back into his hands. ‘If you’re still hoping to see Ivy, you must keep this. You’ll need it.’
Their hands were touching now, and as they both held the package she was exquisitely aware of Hugh’s strong, warm fingers covering hers.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I came here tonight because I wanted to give this back to you in time for your family’s Christmas. There won’t be the same pressing urgency for a gift for Ivy once Christmas is over. And this was really meant for one of your sisters.’
He was looking directly into her eyes and making her heart pound.
Their gazes remained linked for longer than was necessary, and Jo knew she would always remember the shimmering intimacy of his green eyes as he looked at her then and the heated touch of his hands on hers.
It was almost depressing to realise that memories of this handsome stranger were going to haunt her nights and linger in her daydreams…for ages into the future…
‘Please keep the unicorn.’ She felt so breathless her voice was hardly more than a whisper. ‘Believe me, little girls always like presents.’
He sent her a quick smile. ‘If you insist. I’ll trust your deep understanding of what little girls like. The only one I know well is my goddaughter, but she’s only six months old, so our communication has been somewhat limited.’
‘Believe me, where presents are concerned, little girls are no different from big girls; they never get tired of receiving gifts.’
His eyes flashed confident amusement.
‘But I’m sure you already know that.’
‘Indeed.’
But then he seemed to remember something else and almost immediately his smile faded.
And the spell that had kept their hands linked was broken. Jo stepped back, leaving him with the unicorn, and Hugh looked away.
She drew a quick nervous breath. Calm down, Jo. Stay cool. You’re getting overheated about nothing. Nothing. He hasn’t come back to see you and he’ll be leaving again any moment now.
‘There’s another thing I wanted to ask you, Jo,’ he said softly.
Her head jerked up.
‘I wonder if I can possibly impose on you one more time?’
Caught by surprise, she found herself blustering. ‘How? W-what would you like me to do?’
‘I want you to come with me when I go back to Agate Downs.’
Crumbs. ‘Why me? I don’t understand.’
‘You already know Ivy—and you have so many brothers and sisters. I have no experience with young children. I can’t even remember what it’s like to be five.’
She tried to speak as casually as he had. ‘So you think I can help you somehow?’
A muscle in his throat worked. ‘Yes—if you could spare the time. I get the impression you’ve hit it off with Ivy already.’
‘I’m afraid I’m not an expert at managing small children,’ she warned him. ‘You’ve seen how naughty Tilly can be.’
‘But you’re used to them. You’re relaxed around them.’
‘Well…’ Jo’s immediate impulse was to help him, but a nagging inner warning was hard to ignore. ‘It might be helpful if I understood a little more about this situation,’ she said carefully.
He nodded and then he looked directly into her eyes again. ‘The situation’s quite straightforward really. Ivy’s my daughter.’
Right. Jo tried to swallow. So now she knew for sure. Did this mean Hugh was married? She glanced at his hands. The only ring he wore was the signet ring on the little finger of his left hand.
Sensing the direction of her gaze, he smiled wryly, lifted his hand and waggled his bare fourth finger. ‘No, I’m not married. I only dated my daughter’s mother for a while. And…her mother is dead.’
‘Oh, how sad.’ This changed everything. All at once Jo was adrift on a sea of sympathy. She said quickly, ‘Why don’t we sit down for a bit?’
He pulled out a wooden chair on the other side of the kitchen table. ‘If I’m asking you to help with Ivy I should be perfectly honest with you,’ he said. ‘I only learned of her existence a short time ago.’
Jo watched the barely perceptible squaring of his shoulders and she sensed that he was working very hard to keep his emotions under control. ‘That must have been a terrible shock.’ Her kind-hearted urges were going into overdrive now. ‘How come you only learned about Ivy recently?’
Hugh stiffened and she guessed she was delving deeper than he wanted to go. But he met her gaze. ‘Her mother wrote a letter but it never reached me and she died shortly after Ivy’s birth.’
Jo thought of the dear little bright-eyed Ivy who’d danced about their shop like a winsome fairy while her guardian had selected groceries. How sad that her mother never knew her.
How sad that Hugh still hadn’t met her. Jo blinked away the threat of tears.
‘It gets worse.’ Hugh spoke very quietly. ‘Apparently Linley suffered from severe postnatal depression and—and she committed suicide.’
‘No!’ A horrified exclamation burst from Jo. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she added quickly. Then she asked gently, ‘And you never knew?’
‘I thought she had died in a car accident,’ he said. ‘There was never any mention of a baby.’
Jo wondered if he was being so forthright to draw her into the task of helping him. Well, it was working. It would be hard to turn him down now, especially when his eyes held hers with such compelling intensity.
‘Ivy’s grandmother died recently and she left instructions in her will, demanding that I claim my daughter,’ he said. ‘Of course I wanted to do the right thing by the child, so I came dashing over here. But I’ve realised now that my timing is off. On Christmas
