Miracle In March Read Online Free Page A

a caring nature who likes a challenge and is capable of managing daily personal crises and complaints from dissatisfied persons (namely, ex-boyfriends), while maintaining a professional and confident persona and staying sane. Apply within.
    A telephone rang and Amelia turned around, her silky, black ponytail swishing swiftly like a flamenco dancer’s skirt. ‘Oh.’ She turned to Emma and held up the towels. ‘Would you mind taking these to a guest while I grab the phone?’
    Emma took the towels. ‘Sure, which cabin?’ Please not number one, please not number one.
    â€˜Number two.’ She smiled and dashed to answer the phone.
    Phew. Number two she could handle, but number one… She wondered how she’d get through this week with James here. Maybe he wouldn’t need any assistance and she’d only see him on check-out. Oh, no she wouldn’t. He’d be checking out Monday and that was her day off, along with Sunday. It was possible they could go the whole week without bumping into each other. Possible, but unlikely.
    Emma left her mother to walk a while on the beach with her mobile gripped in her hand in case of emergency, and headed along the pathway to deliver the towels to the guests in number two.
    She passed children having fun on the playground equipment on the grassed area next to the sand, and thought of her students. Her ex-students. She missed them, but it was good to have a break from the responsibility of looking after twenty-four children every day. A mother took hold of her two children’s hands and ushered them onto the sand towards the water, while a boy of about five kept losing his hat when he went down the slippery slide.
    Emma’s gaze returned to the path in front of her, and she almost bumped into James. He stepped off the path, his body stiffening. She stopped and looked at his son and wanted to smile. He had his father’s nose; strong and definite, a nose that said: you can trust me. ‘I didn’t know you had a son,’ she said before she could stop herself.
    James slipped his hands in his pockets. ‘There’s a lot you don’t know.’
    â€˜It’s Jackson, right? Your mum told me outside your cabin, before I knew she was your mum.’ God this is awkward.
    â€˜My son is not your concern.’ He wore a frown as expertly as his casual but classy cargo pants and fitted white t-shirt. His hands not budging from his pockets, she couldn’t help but be drawn to the corded muscles and veins of his forearms, and further up, the firm, rounded muscles of his biceps. Jackson ran circles around him, holding onto a small red device of some kind. He pressed it and it made a laughing sound, contrasting with the mood of the moment. ‘It looks like you have a delivery to make.’ He gestured to the towels, then turned away and took hold of his son’s hand.
    She stood still for a moment. It was bizarre seeing James with a son. She wondered if Jackson had a middle name starting with J too, like James. James John Gallagher . JJ, she used to call him sometimes, but only when she was feeling flirty. It had been a long time since she’d felt flirty with anyone; the idea of it was as foreign to her now as the idea of being able to escape overseas on an adventure. It simply wasn’t the right time anymore. So much for her careful planning.
    Emma continued along and walked up the steps of cabin number two where a woman sat on the chair, her pregnant belly bursting beneath the fabric of her dress. ‘Hi, you needed some extra towels?’ Emma smiled.
    â€˜Yes, that was quick, Thanks! I’ll just…’ She gripped the sides of the chair in an attempt to lift herself up.
    Emma held up a hand. ‘Don’t get up, shall I put them inside?’
    The sound of a toilet flushing made her wait, she didn’t want to invade their personal space. A man with dangly, dark curls emerged and greeted her.