Chapter 5
Stretching on the two-seater couch, Sarah gave a long yawn and extended her legs over the armrest. Her eyes struggled against the semi-darkness as she curled into the blanket. Where was she? Oh yes—Lapland. Santa. Beautiful blue eyes. Writing deadline...
Writing deadline! She bolted upright.
On the other side of the window, the world bathed in a cold hue. Blue Lapland light. After hearing she was headed this way, Matthew researched the country and pumped them with facts all the way to the airport.
Sarah pushed to her feet. She needed to get started on that manuscript, whack out a few thousand words.
Wrapping the blanket around herself, she pulled it tight. Ouch. That hurt. She unfurled her fingers, palm facing the ceiling. Difficult to see in the dim light, she lowered her head to her hand, examining her fingertips. No blisters at least, but they were tender to touch. How would she type today with two fingers out of action?
Slowly.
As she stepped toward the table, her foot kicked against something. The object bounced across the rug that covered most of the wooden floor. What was that? Spotting the white tube with green writing, she bent down and picked it up. Aloe vera. How did that get there? And how did she end up sleeping on the sofa, covered with a blanket?
Vague recollections of Niklas rubbing her fingers drifted into her mind. She closed her eyes, trying to remember. His fingers on her cheek, sweeping the hair from her face, his lips on her brow. Sarah drew a sharp breath as heat flooded her cheeks. Had he kissed her? Or had she dreamed it all? She glanced at the cream in her hands. Not hers. Proof it had to all be real.
How dare he?
Chill. It was only a peck.
Didn’t matter, she didn’t know him. And that’s what Andrew had said—just a peck. Look how that turned out. Probably best to steer clear of the landlord. Should be easy enough. Except for some research visits to Santa and to replenish groceries, she had no intention of stepping outside this cabin. Oh yes, and to use the toilet, which she now desperately needed to find.
But there was the matter of her muse who wanted Niklas around.
After suiting up, Sarah headed out into the cold. She’d definitely watch her liquid intake. Far too much trouble to make a tinkle.
She gazed beyond where she’d parked the small blue car. Between a forest of tall pines painted white, she spotted the tiny red outhouse standing in stark contrast to its snowy surrounds. With its peaked roof it resembled an arrow, pointing the way. Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow. Her favorite Bible verse. She hadn’t thought of it in four years.
Sarah let out a huff, her breath vaporizing and dissipating into the air. Tell it to Andrew, Lord. He’s the one stained with his sin against me.
Taking care as she stepped across the small bridge, she glanced to the sides of the snow-covered stream beneath. Probably frozen solid. She followed the short path, glancing in all directions. Were there wolves or bears living under these trees? She pushed the wooden door. It swung open and banged against the side wall. Great—a long drop loo. Maybe she should fast for the next three weeks.
The call of nature satisfied, Sarah hurried back toward the cabin as fast as her puffy, snow-pants-covered-legs would carry her through the soft powder. The sky had lightened, the surrounds more white now than blue. As she turned the corner she stopped in her tracks. Her heart thumped faster and harder. Blue pants, red jacket, kneeling on her porch. What was he doing?
Niklas glanced back then pushed to his feet. “Sarah. Good morning. I brought fresh logs for your fire. Did you sleep well? Warm enough? How are your fingers?”
Sarah stared, mute. It was only a peck, and a sweet one at that. She cleared her throat. “Tender, but surprisingly not blistered.”
“Good. Aloe vera has amazing healing properties. You hold onto that tube.”
“No, I couldn’t.”
“Please. I insist.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Unless you want me to keep the fireplace in your cabin fed.” He grinned.
The thought far too appealing, Sarah pushed it aside. What was wrong with her?
Bounding up the steps, she brushed past Niklas, and opened the front door. Fingers on the handle, she turned around. “Thanks for the firewood.”
Niklas tipped his head and started down the steps, stopping at the sound of her voice.
“Where would I find the Wi-Fi password? It does work out here, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, it works. It’s on the door inside the first cupboard in the kitchen.”
“Thank you.” She stepped inside, venturing a last lingering look over her shoulder. “Have a nice day.”
He nodded and made his way back to the snowmobile, the sled behind carrying but a handful of logs. How had she not heard him arrive?
As she eased the door closed, Sarah watched Niklas drive away. The snow swallowed the sound of the engine. Closing the door, she moved toward the couch and sank into it, only her confused thoughts for company. She unzipped her boots and tossed them toward the front door. There was no denying how hot Niklas looked riding that mean black machine.
Sarah padded toward the kitchen in her sub-zero socks, stopping at the table to turn on her laptop. She checked the time. Almost midday? How was that possible? It had only begun to get light outside. A screen popped up with the Wi-Fi connection. Only one available. Toivonen. She clicked connect and another pop-up requested the password.
Inside the kitchen, Sarah opened the first cupboard. Cups and glasses glistened their greeting. There on the door, just as Niklas said, was her access to cyberspace. Joulupukki. Figures. Doubt the password in Bethlehem hotels would be ‘Jesus’ though.
She glanced toward the sauna door. She should take a shower and change her clothes before starting to write. And have breakfast and coffee. Shower first.
Stepping forward, Sarah opened the sauna door and turned on the faucet. The water should be warm by the time she chose clean clothes.
Her stomach growled, protesting the idea of her exiting the kitchen. Food first, perhaps. Her eyes darted to where Niklas had dropped the packets last night. The corner was empty. Where had her groceries disappeared to? She opened the fridge. The cold foodstuff was neatly stacked inside. She moved to the cupboard beside the fridge and took a peek. Staring at the chocolate slabs stacked in a neat pile—her milestone treats—she cringed. What had Niklas thought as he unpacked these last night? One consolation, those slabs only added words—nothing else. Her muse thrived on being rewarded. Although, in these puffy pants, Niklas wouldn’t know it made no difference to her waistline.
Why did she care what he thought?
On the top shelf stood the cereal box, bread, a few tins of instant soup, tea and coffee. Hmm, coffee... She could do with a shot of caffeine to kick-start the day.
After filling the coffee machine, Sarah turned it on. Once brewed, that jug should last the day, especially as she planned to limit her intake.
A bowl of milk and cereal in her hands, she turned back to the sauna. Couldn’t risk running all the hot water out. She opened the door, expecting steam to billow out. Nothing. Sarah ventured a hand under the water. Cold. Why wasn’t there hot water? She glanced at the stove in the corner with its tap on the side of the metal drum, rocks for heating stacked on the top. She would need help to figure out how that worked, or brave an icy shower.
So much for avoiding the landlord.
She’d brushed him off politely. Pity. Niklas would’ve loved to sit down to a cup of hot coffee and a chat before heading to the village. Isä still wasn’t well and would need his help a few more days. Good. Not that he wanted his father ill, but hopefully Miss Jones would call during the time he still filled Santa’s shoes. If he could turn their next conversation from Santa Claus to Sarah Jones, maybe he’d get an insight into why God caused their paths to cross.
Who was he kidding? As interested as he was in understanding what God was up to, he wanted to
spend time with her—even if it meant being dressed in red and disguised in a white beard.
Niklas parked the snowmobile at the side of his house and strolled across to the sauna. Pulling out his phone, he glanced at the screen. Nothing yet. He checked the clock. Almost eleven AM. Enough time for a quick sauna and avanto before he needed to leave. The chilly dip in the ice hole would invigorate him for the long shift ahead at Santa’s Village.
Stepping inside the dressing room, he stripped down to his running shorts. Hot air hit him full on as he opened the sauna door. He scooped a ladle of water from the bucket beside the sauna oven and splashed it over the hot coals. Steam whooshed to the roof. Trapped, it began to descend. He threw on a second and third ladle, checked the thermometer, and headed for the top bench. A hundred and eighty Fahrenheit. Toasty. Wouldn’t take long before he’d need to run to the avanto. Leaning back against the wooden wall, beads of perspiration already dampening his skin, Niklas closed his eyes. Long dark brown hair, stunning blue eyes, and the softest pink rosebud lips filled his vision. Eyes wide or shut, she filled his thoughts, his dreams. But, they lived on opposite sides of the world. Falling for her was sheer madness.
The snow crunched beneath Sarah’s feet before they sank into its softness as she headed in the direction Niklas had gone thirty minutes ago. She’d walked to just beyond the grove of pine trees bordering her cabin when she spotted the snowmobile parked between a larger cabin with a porch like hers, and a really small one, puffs of smoke emanating from its chimney.
Sarah pushed through the white terrain until she came to the large cabin. Stepping onto the porch, she shifted her gaze back to the smaller structure. The path cleared from its door revealed a walkway leading to a flat, treeless expanse of white. Wonder why there are no trees there.
Raising her hand, she tapped on the wooden door. From inside, a dog’s bark answered her knock. Another echoed—lower, deeper. He had dogs? Coincidence?
“Mr. Toivonen?” She waited a moment before calling again. “Niklas...”
A door slammed open, but not the one Sarah expected. She whirled around in time to see Niklas’s half-naked body sprinting down the cleared path. From where she stood, his black shorts looked like one of those censorship strips often seen in paparazzi photos. Where was he running to, like that? Was he crazy? When she’d checked the thermometer in her cabin earlier, the outside temperature read ten degrees Fahrenheit. Unfamiliar with imperial temperatures, she’d Googled a conversion. Minus twelve Celsius. She’d never experienced sub-zero temperatures before, at least not this far below freezing. Wasn’t quite as bad as she thought it would be, but then she did have on more layers than an onion.
Keeping her eyes fixed on her questionably eccentric landlord, Sarah pressed on through the snow until her boots hit the wooden pathway. She followed Niklas’s trail. Without warning, he vanished into the blank canvas.
Sarah hastened her pace, coming to an abrupt stop at the path’s end. A wooden ladder disappeared into a hole in the ice, the size of a mini exercise trampoline. As she gazed into the dark lake, Niklas’s face broke through the surface. He shook the water from his hair before opening his eyes. Droplets of water spattered against her boots.
“Sarah?” Hands on the ladder, Niklas pulled himself up and out in one fluid movement. “This is a pleasant surprise. What are you doing here?” He slid his feet into a pair of plastic sandals, no doubt discarded right before he took his icy plunge.
“I...uh...” Goosebumps pricked his skin that still carried the faint remnants of summer, down his muscular arms and across his broad, chiseled chest. Put on some clothes. I can’t think straight.
He jogged back up the path. “You’ll have to keep pace, it’s fresh out here.”
Fresh? It was freezing. And he, practically naked, had only noticed the ‘freshness’ now?
Running alongside, Sarah thumbed toward the hole in the ice. “What were you doing back there?”
He grinned. “Avanto.”
Huh? She stopped, resisting the urge to shove her hands to her hips. Instead, she tugged on her gloves, taking care with the hand she’d injured. Her fingernails the tips of the thermal fabric. “You want to what?”
A deep chuckle erupted as Niklas reached for the sauna door handle. “No, no. Avanto. Finnish for hole in the ice. Great tradition. We do it many times. Sauna, Avanto. Sauna, Avanto. In, out. Today, I don’t have time.”
More than once? Why would any sane person put themselves through that agony over and over? Thankfully she wasn’t from this side of the world.
“So, Sarah, what can I do for you?” He pushed open the door and grabbed a towel hanging on a hook.
Sarah remained outside. “Uh, there’s no hot water at my cabin.”
“I’m sorry. I should’ve shown you how to light the sauna oven this morning, but— Can it wait until tonight? Unfortunately, I’m in a hurry.”
Wait? No. “I’d like to take a shower...need to take a shower.”
He leaned into the doorway, a smile tugging at his lips as he towel-dried his hair. “I heated your sauna last night. You didn’t use it?”
“No. Jet lag.”
“Don’t you only get jet lag when crossing time zones? Isn’t South Africa almost on the same longitude as Lapland?”
“Travel lag then. Do you know how far this place is from home? I’ve travelled practically from one pole to the other. I was tired. I fell asleep.” On the couch, which you know very well. Why was he pretending he didn’t?
“It’s understandable. That is far.”
His body dry, Niklas grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head. Disappointment oozed through Sarah as his arms and chest disappeared into the black fabric. Small waves formed on his damp hair as he ruffled his fingers through the blond strands.
“Look, my sauna is hot already. It will take yours at least a half hour to heat. Why don’t you give me a minute to get my pants and boots on and I’ll take you to your cabin on the snowmobile? You can fetch your clothes and toiletries, and I’ll bring you back to enjoy my sauna for as long as you like. It’s a win-win. I’ll stop by tonight around seven-thirty and show you how to heat your sauna.”
She eyed him. Did her face belie her wariness? “Is that ice hole the equivalent of your shower? I mean, will I have to—”
“Ha-ha-ha. No. There’s a shower inside my sauna, too.”
Sarah held her breath for a moment. The thought of waiting another thirty minutes before she could wash, unappealing. The knowledge she didn’t have to take a dip in the ice hole to bathe, relieving. The notion of riding that snowmobile, holding onto Niklas, exciting.
“All right.”
The smile on his mouth widened to a grin. “Give me a minute.” He closed the door on her.
With nothing else to do, Sarah counted down the time. One, two...fifty-five, fifty-six...
The door swung open and Niklas emerged zipping up his red jacket. “You ready?” She nodded as he pulled on his gloves. Together they made their way to the snowmobile. Niklas raised his leg and slid it over the broad seat then held out his hand. Sarah grasped it and hopped on behind him. The engine roared to life, and as the machine tore off across the snowy landscape, Sarah’s arms instinctively wrapped themselves around his waist.
Almost thirty-three years, that’s how long Niklas had waited for this feeling. He’d heard of love at first sight but never thought it could happen to him. Sitting in the sauna earlier he suspected it might’ve. Feeling Sarah behind him on the snowmobile, arms wrapped tight around his waist, extinguished all doubt.
Imagine feeling that every day for the rest of his life.
An ache squeezed his heart as he popped another child onto his knee. After only three short weeks as his guest, Sarah Jones would return home to Africa.
Forcing his attention back to the job at hand, Niklas smiled for the camera. “So you want a toy train set for Christmas, Kevin?”
The seven-year-old stared wide-eyed. Flashing a toothy grin, his
head bobbed up and down. “And a train-driver’s uniform.”
“You know what, Kevin? I will phone my elves in Korvatunturi—that’s where my secret workshop is—and tell them to start making your train set and uniform. There’s still enough time before Christmas.” Niklas turned to Kevin’s parents. “What do you think?”
The petite blonde and her burly husband smiled and nodded.
Kevin’s grin stretched from one ear to the other. “Thanks, Santa.” He slid from Niklas’s lap. Standing between his parents, he slipped his small hands into theirs as they walked away. Releasing his father’s grasp, Kevin turned and waved. “Bye, Santa.”
“Goodbye, Kevin. Don’t forget to be good.”
Niklas breathed out a heavy sigh. If he was good, would he get what he really wanted for Christmas?
He had three weeks to win Sarah’s heart. Starting tonight.
Chapter 6
Invigorating. She could get used to this sauna thing. But the avanto? What was that like? Niklas had survived, and looked good for it, too. Thankfully, she wouldn’t find out. Packing a swimsuit had not been part of her to-do list on Friday.
By the time Sarah emerged from the sauna, Niklas had left. So had daylight. Almost. She knocked on his door to say thank you. Only silence paid her any attention. Her spirit sinking like her boots in the snow, she made her way home in the faded light.
Inside the cabin, her laptop beckoned from the table. So much for getting a jump-start today. Her gaze drifted to her suitcase, abandoned in the corner. She should unpack first. With her muse hungry, her appetite whet by the blue-eyed Santa and Niklas Toivonen, there’d be nothing could tear her away once she put fingers to keyboard—those that still worked.
Lifting the lid of her suitcase, Sarah began unpacking her belongings into the tall, narrow cupboard in the corner of the room beside the table. Right at the very bottom of the suitcase, under the last item of clothing, she discovered a plastic bag. One she hadn’t packed. Removing it, she peeked inside, and then tipped the contents onto the table beside her laptop.
Poles Apart Page 5
