Their Mistletoe Baby

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Their Mistletoe Baby Page 9

by Karin Baine


  The others had flown home hours ago after a brief stop at the hospital for an update and to drop off the luggage, which would now have to be checked onto a later flight. Lucas was the medical lead, so he’d immediately volunteered to stay behind, but Scarlett had been under Freya’s care from the start and there was no way she was leaving the country without her. She was feeling bad enough that she’d had to hand over Hope’s care to Gillian for the journey home, even though she couldn’t possibly be in two places at once.

  ‘How is she? You said on the phone she’d hit her head before the seizure...’

  ‘The doctor is just checking in on her now.’ The fitting had ceased before the ambulance had arrived but Scarlett’s head injury was still worrying. They’d ordered CT scans on arrival, the results of which might require further investigation or referral to a neurosurgeon if there were signs of any damage. It was a necessary precaution.

  On cue, Lucas strode towards them and shook hands with the late-night arrivals. ‘Lucas Brodie. You’ll be pleased to know all Scarlett’s scans came back clear but she needed a couple of stitches to her head wound. They’re just keeping her in overnight for observation.’

  ‘Thank goodness she’s all right.’ Freya’s heart lifted as soon as she heard there’d been no long-lasting damage. Without any extra complications, and providing there were no more seizures during the night, Scarlett would most likely be discharged the next day.

  ‘Can we see her?’ This time it was the father who was eager for first-hand verification of his daughter’s health.

  ‘She’s resting now, but the staff said it was fine to sit with her for a few minutes. The doctor in charge of her care is with her now if you’d like to speak to him yourself.’ That frown, which had been on Lucas’s face since Scarlett’s fall, finally evened out as he delivered the good news.

  ‘Thank you, Doctor.’ The couple bustled away as soon as Lucas pointed them in the right direction.

  ‘Scarlett’s really going to be okay?’ Freya wanted clarification he hadn’t been sugar-coating anything for her parents’ benefit.

  ‘There’s still a few tests to run in the morning but all the signs are good.’ His hand was cool on hers as he reached out to reassure her and she remembered his earlier sacrifice for his patient.

  ‘You’re freezing!’ They’d been indoors long enough now that he should’ve warmed up. It showed how cold he must’ve been out there in the snow if he was still in the process of defrosting.

  ‘I’m fine.’ He tried to snatch his hand away from her grasp, probably embarrassed that she’d discovered he was human after all.

  Her inner nurse took over from common sense insisting his discomfort should be of no interest to her.

  ‘You are not. You’re practically purple with cold. It’s not going to help anyone if you end up with hypothermia, is it?’ she scolded, rubbing his palms between both of hers, trying to generate some heat.

  Far from blanching at the telling-off, he seemed amused by her fussing over him and her blood boiled that her concern should be a source of entertainment. This whole situation would’ve been a lot easier if she didn’t care whether he froze to death or not. She rubbed his upper arms, hoping to get his circulation going and perhaps give him a friction burn from his sweater. At least her sudden sadistic streak would take her mind off the rounded biceps bunched beneath her sweeping hands and the vivid memories of the body she’d known so well once upon a time.

  This was supposed to be about his survival, not her copping a feel.

  ‘If you’re really worried, I hear that skin-to-skin contact works best at transferring body heat.’ The skin crinkled at the corners of his eyes as he teased her and she gave him a playful slap to hide the surge of hormones heating her own body at the suggestion.

  ‘I think you’ll live.’ She took a step back so she could focus again and watched Lucas run his hand—which was now a healthier pink colour—through his hair, looking every bit as ruffled as he’d made her.

  ‘We’re going to stay with Scarlett here tonight. You two should go back to the hotel and get some rest.’ Scarlett’s father popped his head around the corner and offered them some unexpected respite. As much as every fibre in Freya’s body was begging her for rest, she had a responsibility to the little girl that she wasn’t ready to abandon.

  ‘We couldn’t possibly—’

  ‘I insist. There’s no need for all of us to be here. We appreciate everything you’ve done but go and get some sleep.’ He didn’t hang around to listen to further argument and Freya was too tired to fight common sense. There was nothing more they could do for Scarlett tonight and Lucas was quick to point out they’d be more help if they got some rest before they accompanied the family on the journey home again. He headed to Reception to use the landline and call the hotel but the heavy sigh on his return didn’t fill her full of confidence about their last-minute booking.

  ‘We’re here for the night.’

  ‘What do you mean? Surely someone can give us a lift back to the cabins?’ This definitely hadn’t been on the itinerary but it wouldn’t be a hardship to spend another night in Lapland luxury.

  ‘I’ve just called them. They’re booked out. Apparently they had another party arrive straight after we checked out this afternoon.’ He shrugged an apology but it wasn’t his fault or anyone else’s that they’d been stranded here. It was simply bad luck.

  ‘I don’t have a problem slumming it in a regular hotel. I could sleep standing up right now. As lovely as the cabin was, I’ll settle for four walls and a bed.’ She yawned and stretched, her body giving in to tiredness now that they knew Scarlett was safe and sound and her parents were with her.

  ‘Any hotels within trudging distance are booked up too. I guess this isn’t the time, or place, for unscheduled overnight stays.’ It was obvious he’d done his best to find them accommodation but it wasn’t as if they could just check into the nearest bed and breakfast out here in the wintry wilds.

  ‘Thanks for trying. I guess we really are stuck here for the night.’ She eyed the mismatched plastic chairs, which were the only apparent visitor accommodation. The local facility didn’t have access to a family room, which a bigger hospital in the main town might’ve had for parents and guardians keeping a vigil.

  ‘As you know, I’m very low-maintenance...’ She’d never made outrageous demands of her husband. Only that he honour the vows they’d taken on their wedding day to stay with her, and that had turned out to be too much to ask of him.

  There might have been some who’d have screamed and hollered at the prospect of a night sleeping on a chair and stamped their feet until a bed was made available, but she didn’t expect anything of anyone any more. She’d do what she’d done for the past year and get on with it. The holdall containing her clothes wouldn’t make much of a pillow but she tried to pummel it into submission enough to rest her head on.

  ‘I know you deserve more,’ Lucas muttered low enough under his breath she wasn’t sure she was supposed to hear.

  It didn’t matter if he was referring to the sleeping arrangements or her choice of husband when she was stuck with both.

  ‘Are you going to stand there all night?’ She had her head turned away from him but she could sense him hovering nearby and that meant there was even less chance of her getting to sleep.

  ‘No, and you’re not going to spend the night in that chair either.’ The hard edge to his voice and the sound of him stalking back towards Reception had Freya scrambling back to an upright position to see what was going to happen next.

  He walked with such purpose and authority it set her pulse skipping after him. It reminded her of the self-assurance that had drawn her to him from the start and with it the sickening realisation she would still follow him to the ends of the earth if he asked her to. Regardless of the fact he’d ripped her heart out once al
ready, she remained a lost cause when it came to Lucas Brodie.

  She didn’t know what more fate had in store for her during this trip but she prayed she was going to make it through the next twenty-four hours with the rest of her heart still intact.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ‘THIS IS TOO MUCH, LUCAS!’ Freya’s objection didn’t quite gel with her actions as she spun around, arms outstretched, staring up at the sky in wonder like a child seeing snow for the first time.

  He knew it was everything she could want here and worth every penny he’d slapped onto his credit card. A glass igloo wasn’t merely a step up from crashing on plastic chairs in a corridor; it was a no-expense-spared apology, his attempt to make up for some of the hurt he’d caused her in the past.

  With extensive Internet surfing and numerous phone calls courtesy of the receptionist it had turned out there was one last accommodation option available and he’d jumped at this opportunity for Freya’s sake. The small igloo village surrounded by pine trees and little else was the ideal place for an Aurora Borealis watch.

  ‘I thought it would be good for you to take back some nice memories of this trip.’ And of him. He didn’t want her last thoughts of him to be tied to feelings of discomfort and disappointment.

  ‘I’m not going to forget this in a hurry.’ She stopped spinning under the glass dome ceiling to give him a bright, unguarded smile and out-twinkled the stars in the dark skies above them. The sight of her just about stopped his heart beating. He’d be content to die right here and now with the thought he’d been able to make her happy again with this one act.

  ‘It’s kind of like glamping in the Arctic.’ He dumped their bags in the corner of the bedroom/living area. The one downside of his magnanimous gesture was the lack of space. It didn’t correlate with the notion of maintaining some distance after their heart-to-heart last night.

  As pretty and warm as their little glass bubble was, there was no chance of skulking off to his own room and avoiding her until sunrise. Apart from the separate toilet and shower it was essentially one round bedroom. No TV, no Internet, no distraction from his beautiful companion.

  He collapsed down onto one of the beds. At least they weren’t expected to share because that really would have been a step too far for both of them. The only thing that stopped it being too claustrophobic was the transparent ceiling and the view above his head of the endless sky. He hoped more than ever that Freya would get her light show and save them from having to make more conversation than he was comfortable with.

  ‘Do you think people can see in?’ Freya whispered, as though there was someone eavesdropping on her every word.

  ‘Can you see anyone else?’ The only thing in his peripheral vision were snow-covered tree limbs and the orange glow of their distant neighbours. The architects had clearly taken the privacy of their guests into consideration for this experience.

  ‘Well...no,’ she conceded, and began to unzip her ski suit now she was satisfied she wouldn’t be giving a peep show.

  Although he doubted there were any more interesting sights than her stripping off her Abominable Snowman outfit. More like adorable snowman. Lucas tried to distract his wayward thoughts from the sound of her zip. Not even the spectacle of the Northern Lights would compete with the body he knew intimately beneath that suit.

  They both knew that watching her take off her clothes had been one of his favourite pastimes.

  ‘How do they keep the snow and ice off the windows?’ she carried on, oblivious to his increasing discomfort.

  ‘Heated glass. Same principle as the underfloor heating, I guess. We’ve got all the mod cons.’ There was a panel by the bed and he couldn’t resist pushing the switch to see what other surprises awaited. Although if it turned out it was one of those vibrating beds he might end up having to pitch his own tent outside in the snow. Bar the single beds, this already had all the hallmarks of a honeymoon suite rather than an almost divorced couple forced into spending an awkward night together.

  He waited for the seventies’ motel jiggling to begin and was almost disappointed by the slow and partial rise of the mattress.

  ‘Is that for a better view?’ Freya arched an eyebrow at him as he rose to an almost sitting position in time to see her unpack her night things.

  ‘Probably,’ he mumbled, and promptly lowered himself back down again. The idea had been to provide her with a vista to wipe last night’s discussion from her mind but he’d inadvertently engineered another sleepless night for himself, having Freya so close. Not only was the thought of her right here next to him a distraction but there was also the worry the nightmares would return.

  He hadn’t had one for quite some time but there was no absolute cure for the anxiety he still encountered from time to time and there was the possibility all this talk of the past would prey on his subconscious if he drifted off. Since leaving Freya’s bed he’d slept alone, but Peter, his flatmate and saviour, had kept him informed of his night terrors at the time. Sometimes his stress manifested while he was sleeping and the sweating, the screaming and crying he’d suffered at the onset of his illness were not attributes he particularly wanted to share with her. They mightn’t be together any more but that didn’t mean his ego would accept sharing his weakness with her.

  As Freya disappeared into the bathroom to change, Lucas plumped his pillows and prepared himself for a long night, thankful his experience of working night shifts had built up his stamina for such occasions.

  He couldn’t resist a sneak peek as she stole back to bed, or the snort laugh when he saw what she was wearing.

  ‘What? I packed for warmth and comfort, not company.’ She dived beneath the covers but it was too late; he’d already witnessed the fleecy reindeer onesie.

  ‘Good.’ It came out gruffer than he’d intended, or he’d any right to, at the thought of her having a bed partner. The mere suggestion of another man sharing her bed, or her usual choice of skimpy nightwear, had him frowning. He didn’t know how he’d cope if and when their divorce finally went through. They hadn’t actually discussed the future, yet he couldn’t expect Freya to put her life on hold any longer. It was a real gut punch to finally face up to the fact she could be with someone else. He might just have to flee the country to remain in denial.

  ‘Aren’t you going to get ready for bed?’

  ‘I don’t wear pyjamas, as you very well know, Freya.’ He’d said it with the intention of making her blush, making her imagine him naked in her bed and put all thoughts of any other man out of her head. Of course, she mightn’t have the same interest in his love life as he apparently had in hers but she hadn’t given him that impression thus far.

  Not that he could have his cake and eat it. There was no way he could keep his dark, desperate past to himself and his wife happy at the same time. He’d tried that and failed miserably.

  He reached out and flicked the light switch off, plunging them into darkness but for the glittering stars above their heads. He would just lie here uncomfortable and brooding until the sun came up. If he couldn’t see her he wouldn’t think about her. That was the way it was supposed to work. At least, that was what he’d told himself for the past year.

  ‘There hasn’t been anyone else since you, Lucas.’ Her admission in the dark reached in past all the bravado to see deep inside his soul. No one else had that ability to expose his vulnerable internal workings and that was what terrified him. She could’ve listed a whole string of lovers and cut him to the quick but, unlike him, it wasn’t in her nature to inflict unnecessary pain or cruelty towards another being.

  Lucas got out of bed and walked towards the bathroom, unable to hear any more as the weight of guilt threatened to crush him. Bedcovers rustled behind him as Freya turned onto her side, away from the perfect night and her far-from-perfect husband. He could almost taste the saltiness of her tears on his tongue.<
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  The bathroom mirror mocked him with the younger face of his father. He stripped off his shirt and splashed himself with cold water to take away the sting of his burning shame. Now he was faced with the prospect of having to let her go again, he was questioning if he’d even made the right decision first time around. His anxiety had been so overwhelming then, imagining the worst in every situation, it was possible he’d acted rashly and prematurely thrown their marriage away. If it had been the right course of action surely neither of them should still be in so much agony now?

  There was only one way he could attempt to make amends to Freya for the wrong he’d done her, even if he was sweating at the very thought.

  The sheets were cool on his naked back as he lay down on his bed and prepared his confession.

  ‘I haven’t been with anyone else since you either, Freya.’ It was a big confession to make when he knew it would raise all sorts of other questions about their lost year but he owed it to her to return her honesty.

  ‘Then why did you leave me?’ Her voice was but a breath in the night, yet he had to close his eyes to steel himself from the blow.

  ‘I was going through some mental health problems. I didn’t think you should have to go through them with me and thought I was doing the right thing by leaving. I was so messed up I guess I wasn’t thinking about anything clearly.’ Silence swallowed him whole.

  It really was quiet out here, his painful admission the only sound in the forest. In different circumstances he would’ve found the setting a tranquil retreat from the daily grind. Not tonight. Not in his head and definitely not in his heart.

  ‘Why couldn’t you have told me? I’m a nurse, for goodness’ sake. I would’ve helped you get whatever treatment you needed.’ Her frustration at him was justified when he’d recently begun questioning his own decision-making at that time.

  ‘I didn’t really know what was going on in my head. The news of my dad’s death opened up a Pandora’s box of memories and emotions I apparently hadn’t dealt with. I didn’t want him to be a part of my life with you so I never told you he was a mean drunk who should never have been allowed to look after a dog, never mind raise a child. I think the only reason the authorities never got involved was because I was so good at hiding the bruises. For some reason I thought it was better to have him as a parent than have none at all.’ He’d been so desperate to cling on to what had been left of his family he’d accepted daily beatings as normal life. Not to mention the appalling conditions and the empty cupboards of the filthy house he’d been expected to call home.

 

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