From Brooding Boss to Adoring Dad Read online

  “We’ll look until we find Tadeo.” Erin held out her hand to Adam, and he took it.

  “You’re too nice to me, Red. I don’t deserve it after the way I’ve acted.”

  “You’re right. I am too nice to you, and you don’t deserve it. But we’re neighbors. You’re not going anywhere, I’m not going anywhere, so getting along makes it easier. Otherwise we’d have to build a real fence between our properties, and I like the view on your side.” More than she would admit to him.

  He chuckled. “You beat everything. Do you know that?”

  “Is that a compliment?”

  “It just might be.”

  Hand in hand, they walked down the dark path, looking for Tadeo, calling his name. Occasionally they separated, went off in different directions to search, but always came back together in a matter of a minute or two. And each time the way her hand slipped so naturally into his … it felt right to him. Such a simple thing, yet such a significant one.

  Dear Reader

  Many things come to mind when you think about Jamaica—tropical breezes, calypso music, soul-satisfying food, those exotic fruity drinks with paper umbrellas … But, for me, my first thought of Jamaica is family. Years ago I had the rare pleasure of meeting a beautiful family from Jamaica: husband, wife, seven children, all devoted to each other. Everything a family should be.

  When I decided to set a book in Jamaica I knew the theme of my book had to be the strength of family. In FROM BROODING BOSS TO ADORING DAD I threw in some of those tropical breezes, some calypso music and that amazing island food, but I also brought together doctors Adam Coulson and Erin Glover, as well as a little island waif, Tadeo Reyes, and pitted them against some overwhelming and nearly devastating odds to become the family they were meant to be.

  The late humorist and author Erma Bombeck said of family: ‘The family. We were a strange little band of characters, trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another’s desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together.’

  That common thread is love. It’s where every family begins. Welcome to Jamaica!

  Wishing you health and happiness

  Dianne Drake

  PS I love hearing from readers. Feel free to e-mail me at [email protected]

  About the Author

  Now that her children have left home, DIANNE DRAKE is finally finding the time to do some of the things she adores—gardening, cooking, reading, shopping for antiques. Her absolute passion in life, however, is adopting abandoned and abused animals. Right now Dianne and her husband Joel have a little menagerie of three dogs and two cats, but that’s always subject to change. A former symphony orchestra member, Dianne now attends the symphony as a spectator several times a month and, when time permits, takes in an occasional football, basketball or hockey game.

  Recent titles by the same author:

  THE BABY WHO STOLE THE DOCTOR’S HEART

  CHRISTMAS MIRACLE: A FAMILY

  FOUND: A MOTHER FOR HIS SON

  DR VELASCOS’ UNEXPECTED BABY

  FROM

  BROODING BOSS

  TO

  ADORING DAD

  BY

  DIANNE DRAKE

  www.millsandboon.co.uk

  CHAPTER ONE

  ERIN looked at the letter she’!d looked at a dozen times before, huffing out an impatient sigh as she crammed it back into her purse. This was such a waste of time, and the one thing she didn’t have these days was time. She’d made the man a fair offer. Promised him every penny he’d asked, then raised that by ten percent when he’d refused … refused, after he’d accepted. But he’d refused the second offer too, then come right back and accepted it, yet refused her the deed when he’d been paid, and that’s what was making her angry. She owned that land now. It was hers, and he was trying to pull paradise right out of her hands, at least that’s what the letter stated. He was reconsidering. Reconsidering.

  It wasn’t like he’d had another offer on the property that had come in late and beaten hers, because her Realtor had been very specific about that. Hers was the only one. No one had bested her. After all, how many people needed an old missionary medical compound on a beach? Not only that, but one located in one of the non-tourist areas of Jamaica? It was hidden away, not easily accessible. Those were fairly restrictive conditions, which were exactly what she wanted.

  Apparently, Adam Coulson didn’t agree with her, though, because he’d dangled the perfect place like holding out a carrot for a hungry rabbit, and when she’d snapped at it, he’d pulled it back. And now, after the deal was done, he was reconsidering. Well, as far as she was concerned, there was nothing for him to reconsider, and she was here to get what was rightfully hers. All she wanted was her property, not a long, drawn-out court battle, since this Coulson had, essentially, swindled her by taking her money and refusing her the land deed. If he handed it over once she found him, good. She’d walk away. But if he didn’t … first, she’d have to find a way to calm her nervous stomach and mushrooming case of aggravation. Then she’d engage the man in the fight of his life. It was just that simple.

  “Excuse me. I’m looking for Adam Coulson,” she said to the bartender. Good-looking man. Broad shoulders, casually long sandy hair. Eyes the color of the ocean, not green, not blue, but a little of both. All nice, all well worth looking at, but the scowl on his face and the fact that he turned his back on her, not after she’d spoken but while she was speaking, painted the real picture of him, and he certainly didn’t add up to the rest of the pleasant ambiance at Trinique’s.

  Trinique’s was a beach-side shack. Rundown, but friendly … except for the bartender. Loud, calypso-type music played in the background. Plastic crabs and fish dangled on fishing line from the ceiling, along with fishing nets and green glass floats, none of which looked like they’d ever seen a drop of ocean water. Obviously, this wasn’t a place for tourists, like so much of the rest of the island was, as the drinks were served in plain glasses, not in the fine crystal seen in the exclusive resorts and convoluted glass pineapples and coconuts found in the more common tourist haunts. And the crowd in this particular bar … definitely not tourist. Not a camera in the bunch. To Erin, this looked like a local establishment that was well past its prime. Good-natured, well used, much appreciated. Judging from the expressions on the faces of the people enjoying their drinks, enjoying the music, enjoying the conversation, the ambiance didn’t matter but the camaraderie did. She liked that, liked everything about this area so far. Except … the bartender.

  “Do you know who he is?” she persisted with the man. He still ignored her. Didn’t even pretend he was going to turn back round to talk to her. In fact, it seemed he was going out of his way to snub her. Maybe because she was a stranger? Or he thought her an unescorted female looking for some action? She didn’t know, and the reason didn’t really matter because he was doing it quite handily, keeping his attention fixed on wiping a single water spot off a clunky beer mug.

  But Erin wasn’t to be thwarted. Time truly was of the essence here. “I said—”

  “I heard what you said the first time,” he replied, twisting part way round then taking one dismissive, downward glance at her. “The thing is, in case you didn’t notice, I don’t have a sign hung out front saying tourist information.” He turned his back on her and refocused on that very same spot.

  “So, what happened to that Jamaican hospitality you’re known for? This is supposed to be one of the friendly places in the world. You know, people with impeccable m
anners, good ethics.”

  “Are you talking about this bar, specifically?” he asked. “Because I don’t recall reading that in any of the island literature.”

  “All I wanted was to find out if you know Adam Coulson. It’s a simple request. I’m willing to pay for the information.” Erin plunked two one-thousand-dollar Jamaican notes down on the bar, the equivalent of about twenty-two American dollars or a little over fourteen British pounds. “Is that enough to buy an answer?” Her Realtor had told her to come to Trinique’s and ask. This was Trinique’s, she was asking. So far, though, she wasn’t getting what she wanted.

  The bartender turned round, pocketed the money in one swift movement, then said, “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, I know Adam Coulson.”

  “And?”

  “And that’s what you asked, that’s what you paid for. I answered your question, the deal is over.”

  “Meaning you want more money?”

  “No. Two thousand was enough. And I appreciate it since I didn’t have to work hard for it.” He smiled, gave her a fake salute. Picked up another glass and started to polish.

  Erin wasn’t going to be deterred by this man. Six months … she’d been working toward this for six months and nothing was going to stop her. Nothing! Time was precious now. Her father was going blind, slowly but surely. Being put off by the bartender, or by Dr Adam Coulson, wasn’t an option. “Well, I don’t appreciate it. You knew exactly what I wanted, and you took advantage of me.” She held out her hand, palm up. “Give it back. Or tell me where I can find Adam Coulson.”

  He studied her for a moment, like he was weighing his options. Then he turned his back on her yet again and continued polishing. In the background, the Jamaican singer, a happy-looking young man with dreadlocks halfway down to his waist and a smile that nearly offset the bartender’s bad mood raised the level of the steel drums he was playing, causing the dozen or so people sitting at the tiny two-tops scattered around the open-style hut to raise the level of their talking.

  This was a waste of time. A complete, absurd waste of time. And while so far, every islander she’d met had been friendly, this bartender, who was obviously not an islander, was the first one she’d met who was disagreeable. More than disagreeable, he was downright hostile. There was no point talking to him. She’d have to get her information elsewhere.

  Without another word, Erin Glover spun around and marched out of Trinique’s, not so much angry over losing her money but over the fact that she’d been gullible, that she’d been taken advantage of. Her father had taught her better, had taught her how to get along in the world, no matter what the situation. She could almost see him laughing at her … good-naturedly. Laughing, and teaching her another life lesson … Don’t be so naive, Erin. People out there are always waiting for your kind.

  Algernon Glover. Drs Algernon and Erin Glover. Adoptive father and daughter. They were an odd pairing to be sure. Full-blooded Jamaican father, full-blooded Irish daughter. As her father always said, the black and white of it. Some people considered it a pairing to stare at, but she considered it … normal. She’d met her father when she’d been five, and he’d saved her life many times since then, in both the literal as well as the emotional sense. She loved the man dearly, owed him everything she was and everything she had, and she wasn’t going to let one dimwit bartender stand in her way.

  “He’s the one you want.”

  Erin turned back to the door. “Who?”

  “I heard the conversation. Saw the way he treated you. Shameful. But he’s got a lot on his mind these days, and he’s regretting his decision to sell his land.”

  It was the singer. From a distance he looked older. Up close, he looked twenty, give or take a year. Decked out in rust-colored and blue-striped cotton pants and a white cotton shirt, he was simply standing there, waiting to give her information. And not holding out his hand for a gratuity. “I’m not sure I understand,” she said, trying to exercise the caution her father had taught her.

  “Adam Coulson. He’s the one you want. You’re the doctor who wants to buy his land, aren’t you? Dr Glover? We got word from Port Wallace a while ago that you were coming here, looking for him.”

  “Actually, I’m the one who already bought his land.” She was amazed how quick the news of her arrival had spread. She’d made the enquiries and word of her trip up to Regina had raced here faster than she could have gotten there.

  “Well, that’s him.” He pointed to the bartender. “Over there. The one baring his teeth and growling like an angry dog.”

  “Can’t be. The Adam Coulson I want to talk to is the local doctor. That guy looks more like the local malcontent.”

  “One’s not exclusive of the other, you know. And that’s Adam Coulson, the full-time doctor and part-time malcontent.” He held out his hand to Erin. “I’m Davion Thomas, by the way. On my good days, I’m a singer here at Trinique’s. On my best days, I’m a future medical school student and a current paramedic being employed by Adam Coulson … the doctor, not the malcontent.” He pointed to the bartender again. “Him.”

  “So when I asked him, why didn’t he tell me who he was?”

  “Like I said, you’re the one who bought his property and he’s not fond of you because of that. He’s also having second thoughts.”

  Erin blinked twice. “So I’m the bad guy here because I bought what he offered for sale?”

  “Apparently, you are. And I’d like to tell you that he’ll get over it, but Adam’s a strong man with strong opinions. It could take him a while.”

  “So, in the mean time, while I’m waiting for him to get over his strong opinion, I’m supposed to do what?”

  Davion shrugged. “Stay out of his way, maybe. Let him adjust.”

  “I don’t have time to stay out of his way. I’m here to complete the business transaction for my property.”

  “Your property, his dreams. He’ll adjust, but you being here in person has set him off. He’s having a hard time reconciling to those dreams disappearing. That’s why he’s so …”

  She knew what it was like to lose a dream and she did feel bad for him in that. But business was business, and she was on a timeline. “That’s why he’s being so grumpy,” she supplied. Watching him for a moment, she noticed that he was quite obviously avoiding looking at her. Going out of his way, in fact, to dodge eye contact. So much so it was obvious to anyone who cared to consider the dynamics. “So, he’s the doctor and the bartender?” Odd combination. In med school, many of her friends had held a variety of jobs to make their way through, but by the time they’d started to practice, most of those jobs had been discarded.

  Davion stepped a little closer to Erin. Not so much as to be offensive but more like he was about to reveal a secret he didn’t want overheard. “He’s not the bartender, but he steps in when he’s asked to. He is the doctor, though, like I said. Treats everyone in Regina and all the area around it when they need medical attention. He’s a good man, Dr Glover. Takes care of us, never turns anybody away when they can’t pay, and most of the time they can’t pay. But he doesn’t want to get involved with people so much.”

  Surprisingly, she had a flash of admiration for Coulson for what he did as a doctor. But as quickly as it had come, one look at his scowl and it vanished. “Look, I’m glad he has a good medical ethic, but that has nothing to do with me. All I want here is to get the deed to my property and be done with this.”

  “Except he doesn’t want to sell it to you now.”

  “But he already sold it. And took my money.” She liked Davion. He had a real charm about him, and a maturity well beyond his years. But as nice as Davion was, she would have preferred to have this conversation with Adam Coulson himself.

  Davion shrugged. “I think sometimes he gets worried. Tries to figure out how he’s going to keep the clinic open. People here get sick like they do everyplace else, but they don’t have very much to pay him, so he’s limited in what he
can do. Mostly, he’s the one who supports his clinic, and times are tough for him.”

  This was more than she wanted to know. Davion was telling her things that, quite frankly, she wasn’t interested in. All she wanted was her medical complex—one main hospital building, a dozen outbuildings of various sizes. Near a beach. That last was the part she wanted the most. Her dream. Her father’s dream. When I can’t see any longer, I want to hear … the laughter of children, the sounds of the ocean … “Look, I need to talk to him, but it’s pretty clear he’s not going to talk to me. So, can you tell me where his clinic is? Maybe I can go there and wait until he’s finished with his job here.”

  “He won’t be off until closing time. Three in the morning. And his clinic … I don’t think he has plans to go there today. Right now, people come here to Trinique’s to see him.”

  Well, this was going nowhere and her aggravation level was ballooning. “Three o’clock?”

  “Maybe a little later, if he stays to clean up. Usually, he does that the next morning, though.”

  Erin glanced at her watch. “Fine, I’ll wait for him.”

  “He’s not very friendly after a long shift at the bar.”

  “He’s not very friendly now, so what difference does it make?”

  Davion grinned. “More than you know, Dr Glover.”

  She looked back over at Coulson for a moment, caught his eye. Saw … anger. But why was he taking this would-be business transaction so personally? Hating her for no apparent reason? That’s what she saw in that brief glance, though, before he turned away from her again. It didn’t make sense to her. None of it did. “Well, I’ll be back. Will you give him that message for me? I’ll be back, and I’ll keep coming back until he hands me my deed.”

  “That could be a while. He’s pretty stubborn. In the meantime, have you got a place to stay?” Davion looked at her bags, sitting in the sand next to the door.