The Greatest Gift. Diana Palmer

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      Today the bestselling author of over one hundred novels, Diana Palmer is a renowned romance writer. When she published her first novel in 1979, fans immediately fell in love with her sensual, charming romances. A die-hard romantic who married her husband five days after they met, Diana admits that she wrote her first book at age thirteen – and has been hooked ever since. She and her husband, James Kyle, and their son, Blayne, make their home in northeast Georgia, with a menagerie of animals that includes three dogs, fi ve cats, assorted exotic lizards, a duck, one chicken and an emu named George.

      Don’t miss Diana’s fantastic new book, Lawman, which is available now.

      The Greatest Gift

      by

      Diana Palmer

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      CHAPTER ONE

      THE CAR LIGHTS passing by the side road kept Mary Crandall awake. She glanced into the back seat where her son, Bob, and her daughter, Ann, were finally asleep. Sandwiched between them, the toddler, John, was sound asleep in his little car seat. Mary pushed back a strand of dark hair and glanced worriedly out the window. She’d never in her life slept in a car. But she and her children had just been evicted from their rental home, by a worried young policewoman with a legal eviction notice. She hadn’t wanted to enforce the order but had no choice since Mary hadn’t paid the rent in full. The rent had gone up and Mary could no longer afford the monthly payments.

      It was Mary who’d comforted her, assuring her that she and the children would manage somehow. The order hadn’t mentioned the automobile, although Mary was sure that it would be taken, too. The thing was, it hadn’t been taken today. By tomorrow, perhaps, the shock would wear off and she could function again. She was resourceful, and not afraid of hard work. She’d manage.

      The fear of the unknown was the worst. But she knew that she and the children would be all right. They had to be! If only she didn’t have to take the risk of having them in a parked car with her in the middle of the night. Like any big city, Phoenix was dangerous at night.

      She didn’t dare go to sleep. The car doors didn’t even lock.…

      Just as she was worrying about that, car lights suddenly flashed in the rearview mirror. Blue lights. She groaned. It was a police car. Now they were in for it. What did they do to a woman for sleeping in a car with her kids? Was it against the law?

      Mary had a sad picture of herself in mind as the police car stopped. She hadn’t combed her dark, thick hair all day. There were circles under her big, light blue eyes. Her slender figure was all too thin and her jeans and cotton shirt were hopelessly wrinkled. She wasn’t going to make a good impression.

      She rolled the window down as a uniformed officer walked up to the driver’s window with a pad in one hand, and the other hand on the butt of his service revolver. Mary swallowed. Hard.

      The officer leaned down. He was clean-shaven, neat in appearance. “May I see your license and registration, please?” he asked politely.

      With a pained sigh, she produced them from her tattered purse and handed them to him. “I guess you’re going to arrest us,” she said miserably as she turned on the inside lights.

      He directed his gaze to the back seat, where Bob, Ann and John were still asleep, then looked back at Mary. He glanced at her license and registration and passed them back to her. “You can’t sleep in a car,” he said.

      She smiled sadly. “Then it’s on the ground, I’m afraid. We were just evicted from our home.” Without knowing why, she added, “The divorce was final today and he left us high and dry. To add insult to injury, he wants the car for himself, but he can’t find it tonight.”

      His face didn’t betray anything, but she sensed anger in him. “I won’t ask why the children have to be punished along with you,” he replied. “I’ve been at this job for twenty years. There isn’t much I haven’t seen.”

      “I imagine so. Well, do we go in handcuffs…?”

      “Don’t be absurd. There’s a shelter near here, a very well-run one. I know the lady who manages it. She’ll give you a place to sleep and help you find the right resources to solve your situation.”

      Tears sprung to her light eyes. She couldn’t believe he was willing to help them!

      “Now, don’t cry,” he ground out. “If you cry, I’ll cry, and just imagine how it will look to my superiors if it gets around? They’ll call me a sissy!”

      That amused her. She laughed, lighting up her thin face.

      “That’s better,” he said, liking the way she looked when she smiled. “Okay. You follow me, and we’ll get you situated.”

      “Yes, sir.”

      “Hey, I’m not that old,” he murmured dryly. “Come on. Drive safely. I’ll go slow.”

      She gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks. I mean it. I was scared to death to stay here, but I had no place I could go except to a friend, and she lives just two doors down from my ex-husband.…”

      “No need even to explain. Let’s go.”

      He led her through downtown Phoenix to an old warehouse that had been converted into a homeless shelter.

      She parked the car in the large parking lot and picked up the baby carrier, motioning to Bob and Ann to get out, too.

      “Dad will probably have the police looking for the car by now,” Bob said sadly.

      “It doesn’t matter,” Mary said. “We’ll manage, honey.”

      The police officer was out of his own car, having given his location on the radio. He joined them at the entrance to the shelter, grimacing.

      “I just got a call about the car…” he began.

      “I told you Dad would be looking for it,” Bob said on a sigh.

      “It’s all right,” Mary told him. She forced a smile. “I can borrow one from one of the ladies I work for. She’s offered before.”

      “She must have a big heart,” the policeman mused.

      She smiled. “She has that. I keep house for several rich ladies. She’s very kind.”

      The policeman held the door open for them as they filed reluctantly into the entrance. As she passed, she noticed that his name tag read Matt Clark. Odd, she thought, they had the same initials, and then she chided herself for thinking such a stupid thing when she was at the end of her rope.

      Many people were sitting around talking. Some were sleeping on cots, even on the floor, in the huge space. There were old tables and chairs that didn’t match. There was a long table with a coffee urn and bags of paper plates and cups, where meals were apparently served. It was meant for a largely transient clientele. But the place felt welcoming, just the same. The big clock on the wall read 10:00 p.m. It wasn’t nearly as late as she’d thought.

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