Jingle Bell Bride

by Jillian Hart

  “I do?” One glance confirmed it. She spotted a very familiar figure standing in the doorway. “Johanna, who let you back here?”

  “I bribed that nice lady in front with these.” She held up a small bakery box and flipped the lid. “I was running errands for Dad—”

  “At the bakery?” Her apple for dessert, sitting nice and red and polished in her lunch box, didn’t look nearly as tantalizing as frosted Christmas cookies.

  “No, I was walking out of the bank and spied the bakery across the street. A cookie craving hit and I thought, why fight it?” She plunked the box on the table and plopped into a chair. “You didn’t answer my text.”

  “From this morning? No, because I didn’t read it.”

  “Really? How could you resist reading a text from me? Usually they’re riveting.” Johanna selected a cookie and bit into it.

  “I was busy treating a four-year-old with strep at the time. This is my first break all morning.” Sandwich first, then cookie, she told herself and gathered up half of her sandwich. “Although I’ve been dying of anticipation wondering what your text said.”

  “You should be. It involves a certain handsome doctor.”

  “What handsome doctor? Here in this clinic?” That stumped her, or at least she pretended it did. “You mean Steve?”

  “No. Steve? Sure he’s friendly, but he’s old enough to be our dad.” Johanna opened her purse and tugged out a cheerful red envelope. “No, I’m talking about someone else, and don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “What am I doing?”

  “Denial. I’ve been there. I’ve done it, too. When I didn’t want to admit I was falling for Roger Wiggenbottom in tenth grade.” Johanna bit into her cookie. It really looked tasty.

  “I’m not in denial. Of course I know you’re talking about Michael Kramer. I’m pretending you aren’t.” She wished she’d nearly forgotten the man. She hadn’t seen him since Monday. “You can’t go reading anything into that ride he gave me. My car was stuck.”

  “Right, I understand completely.” Johanna waved her cookie around as she talked. “Denial. Sometimes you need it. Otherwise, how would we cope? Dudes are trouble, let’s face it. They make you fall in love with them, they make you vulnerable and the next thing you know, they break your heart. Denial is the smart way to go.”

  “Is it still denial if you aren’t interested in the man?” Honestly, Johanna couldn’t be more wrong. Chelsea took a bite of sandwich, shaking her head. “Why are you here again?”

  “I was in the drugstore getting Christmas cards for the vet clinic’s patients when I spotted these.” She set down her cookie to open the envelope. Colorful stickers spilled out, Christmassy ones with glitter and foil, depicting a dozen little kittens, each with red bows. “I took one look and thought, Macie.”

  “Definitely.” Hard not to think about that darling little girl. “They’d go with her cast nicely.”

  “Awesome. Then these are for her. I’ll replenish my sticker collection later.” Johanna shoved the envelope across the table and zeroed in on the computer. “Hey, what are you doing?”

  “My to-do list, what else?” Chelsea shrugged and took another bite of her sandwich.

  “Right, when it comes to you, what else indeed?” Johanna leaned over and stole the tablet with a flick of her wrist. “Most people use their iPads for things like watching movies, playing games. You know, for having fun?”

  “Hey, that’s mine!” Chelsea protested.

  “Do you even know what fun is?” Johanna quirked one eyebrow turning her attention to the screen. “Double check labs, follow up calls to yesterday’s patients, update charts. Just what I suspected. This is all about work.”

  “Because it’s my work to-do list.” She took a sip of juice. “What do you expect?”

  “It’s work, Chels.” Johanna admonished her with her big, gentle eyes. “Nothing but work.”

  “Hey, I have other lists.” She chomped down another bite of chicken salad. “They aren’t all about work. There’s my church list, my reading list, my home chore list.”

  “Boring.” Johanna laughed and tapped the screen. “Let’s take a look, shall we? There’s got to be something less dull in here.”

  “There’s my healthy eating list. That’s a rollicking read.”

  “Hey, what’s this?” Johanna’s eyes widened as she studied the screen, tipping it so that Chelsea couldn’t see what she was reading. “Now this is interesting.”

  “What did you find? My Christmas shopping list?”

  “No, something much better.” Johanna squared her shoulders, cleared her throat and started to read. “The perfect man wish list—”

  “No! Don’t read it. That’s not really on there, is it?” She dropped her sandwich and made a grab for the tablet.

  Johanna kept it deftly out of reach. “Number one, kind. Number two, doesn’t think of himself all the time—”

  “Give it back.” Chelsea lunged across the table, heat flaming her face. “That isn’t meant for just anyone to read.”

  “Am I just anyone?” Johanna’s wide-eyed innocence didn’t fool anyone, but she did hand over the iPad. “I’m your dear sister you should be sharing stuff with. So, this is interesting. A list for a man. Should I be surprised? No. You have lists for everything.”

  “Hmm. I may have to make a pro-con list for keeping you for a sister.” Chelsea shook her head, settled back in her seat and glanced at the screen. Her list from a long-ago day stared up at her, bringing with it a not insignificant wince of pain. “I’d forgotten that list was on there. It must have been in the folder of stuff I transferred from my main computer when I got this thing.”

  “I’m kind of curious, if you want to talk about it. I didn’t know it was painful. I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, don’t be. It’s not painful.” Not anymore. Okay, maybe it still was, but not much. “I—”

  A knock at the door interrupted.

  “Ten minutes,” Audra announced apologetically. “Sorry, but a new walk-in is bleeding. Not bad, but still.”

  “Looks like I gotta go.” Perfect excuse not to think about her perfect guy wish list. She turned off the tablet, tucked it into her arm and gathered up her lunch things. “Patients to see, wounds to stitch.”

  “Have fun. And don’t forget a cookie.” Johanna held out her bakery box, Chelsea took one—how could she resist? The sweet sugary treat melted on her tongue. Divine.

  “And thanks for the stickers.” She plunked the remains of her lunch in the fridge and came back for the red envelope. “I’ll leave this on Dr. Kramer’s desk.”

  “Dr. Kramer? Not Michael?” Johanna bounded out of the chair. “Wait, I get it. It’s denial. So, see ya later. Meg and I are gonna try to get Dad out of the clinic on time.”

  “Good, because I worry about him. He works too much.”

  “Like someone else I know.” Johanna sailed through the door with a finger wave, her boots whispering in the hallway as she made her way to the front.

  “I don’t work too much,” Chelsea said to herself. She liked responsibility and being the one to get things done. What was wrong with that?

  Nothing. Not one thing. She munched on her cookie, heading toward her office where she deposited her iPad, grabbed a few files and distributed them on her way to the exam rooms. Two folders for Susan’s desk, one for Dr. Steve’s and after knocking and getting no answer, she breezed into Michael Kramer’s office, left the red envelope on his desk and sailed back out, closing the door behind her.

  “Your next patient is in exam three.” Audra met her with a relieved look. “The nurse is taking info, but we’ve seen this kid before. He’s one of Dr. Swift’s.”

  “Right.” Straightening her white coat, Chelsea went for the hand sanitizer and stepped into the ex
amining room, not surprised to see a mischievous-looking boy, probably around five or six, with his hand wrapped in a dish towel.

  “Sledding accident,” his worried and harried mother explained. Clearly this kid was a handful.

  “We’ve had a lot of those lately,” Chelsea assured her, kneeling down to take a look.

  * * *

  “Dr. Mike?” Seven-year-old Howie Lansing looked up from his hospital bed. Even washed-out from a long surgery and surrounded by beeping monitors which were necessary in ICU, he managed to look like trouble waiting to happen.

  “What is it, buddy?” He clicked his pen, chart notations made.

  “Can I go home yet?” Big gray eyes pleaded up at him. His mother, seated beside him, leaned closer to caress his head soothingly. His fine blond hair crackled with static electricity.

  “Not yet, but I’ll be the first to tell you when. You’re a good, brave boy.” He nodded to Mrs. Lansing, who was pale with exhaustion and worry. “Nora, you have my number. Call if you need anything and, Howie, you nailed the surgery. No patient I’ve ever had has done better.”

  “I know.” Howie settled into his pillows, his left arm wired, pinned and in traction.

  Michael gave thanks for the procedure that had allowed the surgeon to remove the cancerous bone and save the arm and the boy’s life. “Don’t forget to get some rest, too, Nora. Where did your husband go?”

  “To fetch me some lunch.” Nora Lansing’s face bore the stress and worry that came from having a critically ill child. “I just couldn’t eat earlier.”

  “Make sure you take care of yourself, too. Howie needs you to stay healthy.” He offered what he hoped was an encouraging smile, winked at the boy and headed out of the unit. Checking his tablet computer in the hallway, he studied the to-do list his nurse had compiled for him. Looked like it was time to head to the office for his two o’clock appointment, which was little Kelsey Koffman.

  It was going to be a tough one. He hauled out his cell as he wound his way through the hospital and punched in a call while he rode the elevator. Mrs. Koffman answered on the eighth ring, out of breath, as if she’d run to catch the phone.

  “How’s Kelsey today?” He headed straight through the parking garage to his SUV. “I know she has a two o’clock, but I wanted to make sure she’s up to the trip into town.”

  “She’s pretty weak.” Kate Koffman sounded matter-of-fact. She could have been discussing the weather. The way parents held themselves together in a crisis varied, but their commitment to their children rarely did. “I’ve been up all night with her.”

  “How’s her discomfort level?” He clicked his remote and opened the door.

  “It doesn’t seem worse, at least that’s one good thing.” Kate paused, as if holding back emotion. “She’s afraid the cancer is back. She can’t sleep because Jesus might come and take her to heaven.”

  “I see.” He dropped into the seat, his heart dropping, too. He thought of his beautiful and healthy daughter at school today and sent up a grateful prayer for her and for Kelsey. “I’ll see what I can do about that. Can she make it in, or do you want me to drop by on my way home tonight?”

  “Thanks, Dr. Kramer, but it’s good for her to get out and about. We’ll go for ice cream after.” Kate’s voice cracked, a chink in her carefully built armor. He had the feeling it was all she could to do hold on.

  “Then I’ll see you in twenty minutes.”

  “I’m getting her into the car right now.” Kate said goodbye and hung up, leaving him alone with a dilemma.

  He solved it by sending a text to his nurse. Run over to the drugstore and buy a stuffed animal for Kelsey, something soft for her to sleep with. This is a priority.

  When he got her okay, he started the engine, motored out of the parking garage and drove the short mile to the clinic. Sunshine led the way in a sparkling glitter. The streets lay in a mantle of white like a winter wonderland, a perfect world. The hardest part of his job was that dichotomy—dealing with the tough side of life. He’d never been able to reconcile it with the beauty of life. Sometimes it was better not to try.

  Ice crunched beneath his boots in the plowed back lot. He spotted Chelsea’s beige sedan, obviously rescued since Monday’s storm. He refused to let a single thought of her into his head. Concentrate on work, keep your distance. Things were better that way, he told himself.

  “I hope this will work?” His nurse, Zoe, met him holding a floppy-eared stuffed bunny with big embroidered eyes and a fleecy purple coat. When he nodded, she appeared relieved. “Whew, I had to run the whole way but I beat the Koffmans here. They just pulled into the parking lot.”

  “Would you mind heading outside to help Kelsey in through the back?”

  “No problem.” Zoe bobbed off, eager to help.

  Grateful to her, he tucked the rabbit in one arm and headed to his office.

  Warm, still air met him in the darkened room. He stripped off his coat, tweaked the blinds open to let in a view of the back lot. A flash of red caught his eye. No need to wonder who it was from. He knew before he drew back the envelope’s flap and spotted the sparkly stickers. If he breathed deep, the faint combination of strawberries and vanilla tickled his nose and sparked a familiarity he’d rather deny.

  Chelsea. A variety of emotions he didn’t want to explain gathered like a force in his chest, whirling like a blizzard in full blow.

  His cell chimed with a text. He hauled his phone from his pocket to check the screen.

  The wife is forcing me to give up my extra activities, Dr. Steve Swift had written. Can you imagine?

  It’s about time, Michael typed back. You need to rest so your leg can heal.

  So I keep hearing. This means I need someone to take my spot on the church’s Christmas food drive. I’m electing you. Aren’t you honored?

  Michael broke into a smile. Very. I don’t have enough to do.

  Just add it to your list. I’ll tell the reverend you’re in. Thanks, Michael. I owe ya.

  That’s what I’m counting on when vacation time rolls around. He hit Send, pocketed his phone and meant to grab the stuffed bunny from his desk but grabbed the stickers instead.

  What was wrong with him, taking a second look? Kittens in all colors and poses grinned up at him, wreathed in bows, chasing glittering ribbon, peering out of the top of Christmas stockings. Macie would love them.

  A glimmer of feeling for the gorgeous new doctor broke out of the storm of emotion in his chest, but he deftly ignored it, grabbed the stuffed rabbit and strode to the door. A quick turn of the knob and he bolted into the hall and nearly ran down a tall, slender figure. He breathed in strawberries and vanilla and froze.

  “Dr. Kramer.” Chelsea stared up at him. “Guess we need a stoplight in the hall.”

  “Or a traffic guard.” What kind of response was that? He’d never been suave with the ladies, but that was pathetic. Worse, his cerebral cortex froze and he stared at her, gaping like a fish out of water. “Uh...the stickers must be from you.”

  “Yes, glad you found them. Johanna brought them over.” The woman waltzed away, a chart tucked in the curve of her arm. Her light chestnut locks shimmered like satin beneath the florescent lights. “I like your bunny. Do you always carry him around the office?”

  “It’s for a patient,” he clipped out before he realized she was gently kidding him.

  At the far end of the hall she stopped to toss over her shoulder, “Yeah, I kind of figured that. I’ve got patients waiting.”

  “Me, too,” he muttered to no one because she’d already whipped away in a swirl of white coat, gray slacks and her lustrous hair.

  His feet carried him forward without the rest of him being aware of it. He found himself at the end of the short hall, giving way to the long row of exam rooms. For a moment, the emotions he fought s
urfaced, bringing with them the warmth of connection he’d felt with Chelsea that day he’d driven her to the diner. Dangerous feelings.

  He tamped them down. All it took was a little willpower and that evening was forgotten. His heart was a quiet and safe zone once again. He halted at the hand sanitizer dispenser before shouldering into the exam room.

  “Dr. Mike!” Seven-year-old Kelsey wore a purple knit hat to hide her bald head, but her smile shone bright. “What’s that you got there?”

  “You mean Nancy?” He tucked the bunny into her reaching arms. “She’s a very good friend of mine, and she’s looking for a new home.”

  “She is?” Kelsey wiggled with excitement in her wheelchair, clutching the blanket covering her closer.

  “When she told me she wanted to live with a great little girl, I thought of you.” He winked at Mrs. Koffman. “Your mom told me you were having trouble sleeping.”

  “I guess.” Kelsey stroked the top of the bunny’s head, as if she were a pet. “I don’t want to get sicker and leave my mom and dad.”

  “I understand that. I don’t want you to, either.” Remission could be an elusive thing, and her kidneys were compromised. He knelt to tuck an edge of the blanket around Kelsey’s knees to help keep her warmer. “Nancy is a special bunny. Didn’t I tell you? She’ll stay guard over you while you sleep and keep you safe in your bed.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” He suspected angels were the ones keeping her safe, but the bunny could help, right? He patted Kelsey’s knee before opening her chart.

  “Thank you,” Kate Koffman whispered, wiping tears from her eyes.

  “All in a day’s work.” He tucked away the last emotion from his heart so he could face the results of his little patient’s blood work.

  Chapter Seven

  The cell on the desk beside her chimed, echoing in the relative quiet of the after-hours clinic and startling Chelsea from her work. She saved the computer file, took off her headset and glanced at her phone.