'Tis the Season: A Collection of Mimi's Christmas Books

by Mimi Barbour

  A slight noise drew her attention. She continued to pan the area, only to stop as soon as she noticed the visitor in the chair next to her bed. He leaned forward to take her hand.

  “Dr. Andrews. Or should I say Robert?” Her voice still sounded weak, but there was enough voltage in her smile to charm the man who watched her carefully.

  “My dear Abbie, I’m that pleased to see you’ve suffered no permanent damage from your recent adventure.”

  “Have any of the others experienced any lasting effects? The ones who went through what Marcus and I did, I mean.”

  Her soft voice drew him down closer to reply, “None that they didn’t choose. There’ve been some rather unusual happenings, but when you consider that we were dealing with the eccentricity of the supernatural, well, I can’t say as how it surprises me. Here, let me examine you now, and we’ll make sure you’re mending properly.”

  As he took her blood pressure and checked various other parts of her body, he hummed to himself now and again, while she waited patiently. Once he’d assured himself all was well, he returned to the chair to put his stethoscope back into his opened bag.

  “You’re satisfied? I’m back to normal now?”

  “Oh, yes. You’ll be a bit weak for a while, physically. Considering your body lay in coma, that’s not unexpected. But since it hadn’t been too long, and you’re young and healthy, I don’t suppose it’ll take more than a couple of days for you to recover completely. I have no doubt the nurses here will take great care of you.”

  She giggled and added, “Like they tried to last night?”

  Dr. Andrews glanced up and joined in her high spirits. “She’s quite something, my Mrs. Dorn, a real sport. Who would ever suspect her of crawling into the bed as a decoy, covering herself with the blanket, and then promptly falling asleep?”

  “If we hadn’t returned just when we did, the nurses would have pulled back that very blanket and, shall we say, let the cat out of the bag.”

  “Or the dotty housekeeper out of the bed?” Enjoying his quip, his laughter had her joining in once more.

  “Robert, I do appreciate all you’ve managed to do for us. If not for you, I don’t know what we’d have done.” Tears appeared from out of nowhere, and trying to sniff them away or hold back the sob didn’t work at all. My goodness, I’m weak, she thought. Now I’m blubbering in front of poor Dr. Andrews.

  “My dear, what is wrong? Are you in pain?” The doctor studied her reaction and knew instantly. Her pain wasn’t physical but more in the way of a spiritual trauma. “Don’t fret so, Abbie.” He patted her hand and continued, “In my experience with matters of the heart, time can work wonders when it comes to straightening out these types of situations.”

  Another sob broke, and she lifted her hand to press against her trembling lips. “I’m awfully afraid nothing can help our circumstances, Robert. But life does go on, and we must do the best we can.”

  “How cryptic. They say a problem shared is a problem halved. I’d be proud to share yours anytime, if you’re willing. You know that?” He patted her arm.

  “You’ve been brilliant, and I’ll keep it in mind. No wonder your niece Dani loves you so much and talked about you as if you were the second coming.”

  The twinkle appeared in his eyes, the one she loved to see, and he smiled. “My niece had a similar escapade to the one you’ve been on. Next time she visits, you girls must get together and have a natter, discuss your adventures. She’ll be coming over as soon as the baby is born. Her husband, Troy, won’t allow her to travel until then. Mrs. Dorn calls it utter rubbish, but he’s so besotted with Dani that he’s a mite overprotective.”

  Abbie sighed and smiled through her tears. “Imagine that—a baby! You must be so excited.”

  “Honestly? Yes I am. Very! Now Mrs. Dorn? Well, she’s beside herself. There are so many booties and tiny knitted jackets being produced in my kitchen that she could start a babies’ clothing store.” His grin didn’t cover up the pride at all, nor did his teasing words.

  “Dani’s very lucky. Last year I took lessons with Mrs. Dorn, since she’s the best knitter in the village. And I’ve seen many of her creations at the orphanage. They’re lovely. She’s continually providing the youngsters with sweaters and mittens, and even socks. All the little ones love it when she visits.”

  Before Dr. Andrews could reply, a knock sounded and the vicar peeked around the door. “Bless my soul, the rumours are true. You’re back with us, Abbie.” The little man clapped his mitted hands together. “My prayers have been answered, and I couldn’t be happier.”

  Dr. Andrews smiled at the vicar and waved him inside before turning to Abbie to take her hands in his. “Remember what I said, Abbie. I’d be delighted to see you anytime.”

  She pulled him closer and lifted herself slowly to kiss his cheek. At the same time, she whispered in his ear. “Thank you for understanding.”

  Both the vicar and Abbie waved to the doctor as he left the room, and then she waited as the little man shed all his snow-covered outer wrappings. From the thick fleecy mittens, and long knitted scarf—obvious presents from Mrs. Dorn—to the huge black overcoat, it took time to divest himself.

  Finally, he moved to the seat the doctor had just vacated and plopped himself down. Reaching for the hand she held out, he lifted it to his lips and kissed her knuckles, squeezing her fingers all the while in his obvious joy. “Abbie, I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to see your smiling face again. We’ve all missed you so much. The telephone has been ringing off the wall. Everyone has been anxious on your behalf. I even noticed today that some concerned parishioner has cleaned the area by the vicarage bench where you fell, to stop the same thing happening again, and—”

  “Father Witherby, catch your breath.” She pumped his hand up and down to emphasize her statement. “I’m very happy to see you, also. But before we discuss anything else, I must know how Cece and Nicholas are faring. I’ve been truly worried about them.”

  The vicar’s endearing, partially whiskered face—obviously he’d forgotten to shave one side—broadcast his glee. “Cece is fine. She’s working very hard at learning her lines for the carol she chose to sing just for you, ‘Away in a Manager.’ I’m afraid she’s out to impress her Abbie. You do know the Sisters have taken to our idea of having the children perform at the concert, and everyone is hard at work practising. It’s been very helpful in keeping the children from missing you so much.”

  “And Nicholas?” She watched him fidget even more than normal.

  “I shan’t lie, Abbie. He’s suffered without you, terribly. But now that you’re back with us, he’ll be fine again. Let’s talk about you. The nurses were extraordinarily pleased with your surprising recovery. When I questioned them just now, they felt you’d be ready to leave hospital very soon.”

  “That’s true, Father. I’m feeling quite well and hope to be released shortly. Now, how are your flock doing? What with your Nativity celebration looming tomorrow, I was very worried about missing out on the festivities. I did so want to help with all the organizing.” Oh-oh, would he notice her slip and wonder how she knew that the festivities were to take place on Christmas Eve? She’d have to be more careful.

  “Not to worry, my dear.” He edged forward in his chair.

  Zip, right over his head. She sighed her relief.

  “I’ve had wonderful help from a Mrs. Chapman. She’s the mother of the man who was with you when you fell. He’s also been very helpful since your accident. They both have. She’s a lovely lady, you know. Given us a lot of her time to help organize our special evening at the church hall. I do so hope you’ll be well enough to come. I—”

  Seeing her mentor’s face turn red from lack of a deep breath, she cut in on his torrential chatter. “Dear Lord, is Christmas so close? I’ve missed out on a lot, haven’t I?”

  “Not to worry, my dear. Our Maker works in mysterious ways, but usually with a goal in mind. I’m thinking he wanted you to have a g
ood rest.”

  She laughed but sobered as soon as she saw the vicar’s surprise. “Between you and me, I feel a bit of a fake. Last night I slept so well, and my muscles are getting stronger as we speak. I’m sure I’ll be able to attend the concert. In fact, if the doctors release me in time, I’d be happy to help out in whichever way I can.”

  “My goodness, none of that, always volunteering. You need to let yourself heal. Anyway, just before I left the manse, Madeline—Mrs. Chapman, that is—called to inform us that she’d be back into town early today. Seems she’s been to visit some old friends who used to live in the area, Mr. and Mrs. Hans…” His plump hand reached up to rub at his forehead. “Unfortunately, I’ve forgotten their last name. Doesn’t really matter, I suppose. Drat. This memory of mine’s getting worse. Without you taking care of me, it all gets mixed together.”

  His beaming smile melted her, just like it always had. “I don’t suppose it does matter about their names, and I also can’t wait to be back at work, if not today then hopefully tomorrow. One thing for sure, I’ll be at the nativity.”

  “Wonderful, Abbie. I’ll look forward to… Why, hello, Mr. Chapman.” Both faces had turned toward the door as it opened and Marcus stepped inside the room. His large frame dotted with snowflakes and his cheeks reddened from the cold testified to the bitter weather. “It’s still snowing, I see. Strangest weather we’ve ever had—”

  Marcus interrupted, his keen gaze never leaving Abbie. “It’s getting so bad everyone is hurrying home before they get snowed in. The lorries with snowblades on them are having a difficult time keeping up. My advice to you, Vicar, is to hurry back to the vicarage, where you’ll be safe from these worsening conditions.”

  “Yes, yes, you’re right, dear boy. I must be on my way. Abbie, it’s wonderful to see you looking so pink-cheeked now.” He turned to Marcus and added, “Her face looked much paler when I first arrived, you know. But she says she’s feeling better all the time.”

  While the fussy fellow rattled on, he began getting himself ready to go outside and got his arm caught halfway into the trailing coat. Marcus stepped forward and held the garment, all but dressing him and shoving him out the door. “Don’t tarry, Father. I’d hate to see you stuck in a snowdrift.”

  “Yes, yes, I’m off. Good-bye, dear girl, and God bless.” Marcus held the door and then closed it firmly after the receding figure.

  Abbie knew her cheery appearance belied the thudding going on inside, but Marcus all but frog-marching the vicar from the room had been extremely comical.

  From the minute she’d seen him framed in her doorway, her heart had picked up its rhythm, almost suffocating her. He seemed different from the stranger she’d first met by the vicarage, and even from the handsome man she’d faced in the mirror. She saw past the terse expression, the chiselled features, and the confident behaviour to the loving sweetness of his spirit. Pain rose to where it squashed all her strength, leaving her limp.

  Right then she decided the most sensible way to carry on would be as if he were little more than a stranger. After all she’d really only met him once before in person.

  “Abbie, I had to come and see you, to make sure with my own eyes that you were recovering. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t… Never mind. I guess I needed to know whether you remember what occurred while you were in the coma.” He studied her expression closely. His mesmerizing stare compelled her eyes to look up.

  She fought the overwhelming need to connect. Refused to give in to his forcefulness. If she let him see the emotions in her eyes, he’d see the love she couldn’t hide. It mustn’t happen.

  His words had given her an idea. She could pretend not to remember what they’d experienced during the last days. That way, they could be together without any discomfort. Not that she had any good acting skills; her face had always portrayed everything like an open book, hadn’t it? But this was way too important to bungle.

  “Abbie?”

  Finally she looked up and revealed only the interest of a very slight acquaintance in her expression. “Hello, Mr. Chapman. They tell me I have you to thank for making Dr. Andrews aware of my case, which led to my recovery. I do so appreciate your kindness.”

  “Oh, bugger my kindness! Tell me you remember what happened.” Marcus picked up her hand and pressed it against his lowered face.

  Abbie could feel the flutter of his eyelashes against her skin, and that bit of frailty in such a strong man affected her strongly. It took all her strength not to cup his cheek and draw his mouth to hers.

  But she didn’t. Instead she gently withdrew her hand and made her body stiffen in resentment for his taking liberties.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir. My last recollection is of you helping me cover the rose bushes. After that, there’s nothing.” Dear Lord, let him believe me. She wouldn’t look at him.

  With both hands, he forced her face upward so he could see into her eyes. “You don’t remember anything else?” he said, his voice breaking on the last word. “Look at me.”

  It took everything in her to cover her love with shyness, but she managed to. She fluttered her eyelashes for all she was worth and stammered her dismay. “Should you like to tell me what it is you’re talking about? Because I have no idea. It’s as I’ve said before, Mr. Chapman. I remember nothing!”

  This had to stop. She couldn’t take his penetrating stare for another second or she’d break down. Feebly she twisted away and lay back, pretending a weakness that wasn’t really faked. His nearness made her feel extremely vulnerable.

  From under her eyelashes, she watched the pain flood his features to be replaced by grimness and a clenched jaw. He picked up his gloves, the only item he’d removed, and after one last riveting stare, he cleared his throat. “Right, then. I shouldn’t worry too much about what happened. Dr. Andrews assured me that you’d be fine in a very short time. So, I’ll be off.” He turned away, hesitated, and turned back, only to pick up her hand and squeeze it very gently. “If you ever need anything, come to me and… Just—come to me.”

  Once the door closed behind him, she let the air out of her lungs and covered her eyes with both hands—weak, shaky and fisted. She rolled toward the nightstand, and the whiff of a special rose broke her. Tears gushed, rolling through her fingers to soak the pillowslip. What she’d just done had been the hardest thing she’d ever faced. He’d looked so crushed when she denied knowing him. Shattered when she’d rejected his affections. He was the strongest man she’d ever met, and it broke her heart to see him beg.

  Swamped in misery, her thoughts scurried everywhere, searching for a solution. They couldn’t both live in the same town, especially once the news of their true relationship came out. In the end, her mind settled on one answer. The best for everyone involved. She must leave her home, the only place she’d ever lived, the town she loved, and the people who loved her.

  He’d only just moved here, and his mother—her mother, too, if the truth be known—loved being back. Abbie remembered her first sight of the woman. No wonder she’d been enchanted. All her life she’d taken to people. For her that was normal. But with Madeline it had been different. Like there was a special tug, a fascination.

  No, it wouldn’t do at all for them to return to London. She knew her love’s health history, his near-death encounter with pneumonia. He couldn’t keep that knowledge from her when his mind so often swung to those memories. His need to slow down and live in Bury far exceeded hers. Therefore, it was only right that she be the one to go.

  Oh, but it would break her heart to leave Nicholas and Cece. Bloody hell, how could she? And her little house, with her gardens full of flowers, where the children would come to visit for tea parties on the warm summer days. How could she give up those wonderful times? It would destroy her.

  Nevertheless, she had to leave.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Once he’d left Abbie’s room, Marcus sat in one of the multitude of chairs in the hospital foyer. His claspe
d hands drooped between his knees, and his head hung low.

  I can’t go back in there, he thought, even though every fibre of his being demanded he return to the woman he loved and smooth over the way he’d left her so abruptly. How am I ever going to pretend what I feel for her is brotherly? It’s all I can do to keep my hands off the little darling. Why, in all that’s holy, did you have me finally fall in love with the perfect creature, Lord, and then play silly buggers with our future? What the hell was all that magic for, if not to bring us together? I’ll never understand how you could be so cruel. Never!

  Knowing his mother as well as he did, especially after being in such close contact with her for the last few months, he understood that once she’d made up her mind, she would confess her guilty little secret to everyone within miles. Then she’d force Abbie to accept them as family, probably try to force her to live with them and be a part of their lives. Which would be only right and fair. But no way could he stick around and be a part of their reunion. As much as he cared for both of them, it would be beyond his ability. The best solution would be for him to make plans to leave the area, and soon.

  A pity, really, because he’d come to care about Bury and the people who lived here. Life in this quaint place could be everything a man would ever need, living and working with these wonderful folks, satisfying and rewarding.

  But it wasn’t to be.

  He sighed and shook his lowered head. A peculiar noise made him look up, and he knew his smile to be rather twisted. Windows in the hospital’s entrance looked out onto one of the main streets. There goes our soon-to-be Joseph, Marcus thought, playing his role and acting like a ruddy toff. Frank, wrapped warmly in a red scarf and thick coat, drove his sleigh past the building. The horse, decked out for the holidays with a fancy wreath around its neck and streamers twisted in his mane, passed the small hospital’s turn-off with bells jingling and hooves clopping.