A Little Christmas Magic

by Alison Roberts

  ‘You’re doing a good job, Emma. Can you keep it up while I get organised?’

  ‘Sure.’ Emma ignored the pain from the icy cobbles beneath her knees. She bit her lip and concentrated on where she had her hands—in the middle of the chest—and how hard and fast to push.

  Had it been only a matter of weeks ago that expending this much energy would have been impossible? She just had to keep it up. The last thing Adam needed right now was to have someone else collapsing.

  ‘Okay—stop for a moment.’ The buttons on the man’s waistcoat popped as Adam ripped it open. The buttons on a shirt went the same way but the singlet beneath needed a cut with shears before it would tear. And then Adam attached sticky pads to the bony chest and turned to look at the screen on the equipment he’d brought.

  ‘Move right back, Emma. Make sure you’re not touching him. I’m going to give him a shock.’

  Emma—and all those watching—got a shock as well, seeing the body jerk in front of them, but she didn’t have time to wallow in feeling horrified.

  ‘Start compressions again,’ Adam ordered.

  ‘I can help the lassie.’ A big man was kneeling beside her. ‘I’ve learned how to do this.’

  ‘Good man, Bryan. Emma—can you hold this, please? And come up by his head. I need a hand to get a tube in so we can breathe for him.’

  The next few minutes were a blur. How could Adam stay so calm? He slipped a tube down the man’s throat and attached it to a bag that he showed Emma how to squeeze. He put an IV line into an arm and drew up and administered drugs without any discernible shake to his hands.

  Emma was shaking like a leaf now from a combination of the horror and the cold.

  ‘Can someone ring and find out how far away the ambulance is?’

  ‘They’re sending a helicopter,’ someone said moments later. ‘It’s going to land on the school field. They need people to check that there are no loose objects the snow might be hiding.’

  Several people peeled away from the anxious group. ‘We’ll do that,’ a man called. ‘And warn the bairns what’s going to happen.’

  Emma fought off a wave of dizziness. She focused on holding the bag and squeezing it. Counting to ten slowly and then squeezing it again.

  ‘You’re doing really well.’

  The words were quiet. Only Emma and the big man doing the compressions would have heard it. Bryan didn’t look up from his task but Emma did. She met Adam’s dark gaze and found encouragement there. Pride even?

  She had to swallow an unexpected lump in her throat.

  ‘Do … do we need to send someone to find blankets? It’s s-so cold …’

  ‘It’s a good thing for Old Jock,’ Adam said. ‘Sometimes we make patients cold deliberately to protect them from the effects of a cardiac arrest.’ He looked away. ‘I’ll take over in a sec, Bryan. Stand clear, both of you, now. I’m going to try another shock.’

  Everyone had to be holding their breath to account for the silence that followed after the warning alarm and then the clunk of the machine delivering its charge. They could hear the beat of the approaching helicopter. And then another sound, much closer. A steady blip, blip, blip that was coming from the machine.

  ‘Is that …?’

  ‘Aye.’ Adam caught her gaze again. ‘We still need to help him with his breathing but we’ve got a heartbeat.’

  There was triumph in those eyes now. Joy even. A ripple ran through the onlookers that suggested pride in their local doctor. Confirmation that their trust in him was not misplaced.

  And then the helicopter crew was there, in their bright overalls and with even more equipment. Old Jock was put onto a stretcher.

  ‘Can you come with us, Doc?’

  ‘Of course.’ But Adam turned back to Emma. ‘I have no idea when I’ll get home. It could be tricky finding transport back from Edinburgh.’

  ‘I could come and get you.’

  ‘What about the children? It’ll be too late to be dragging them out.’

  ‘I can take the bairns,’ a woman said. ‘It’s no problem.’ She smiled at Emma. ‘I’m Jeannie’s mother. Jeannie’s Poppy’s friend. She’d love to have a sleepover.’

  Emma saw the look on Adam’s face. He never asked these people for help, did he? She could understand that he might want to protect his fierce independence but these were his people. They cared about him just as much as he obviously cared about them.

  ‘Leave it with me,’ she told him. ‘I’ll call you.’

  How ironic was it that she was practising the run to the big hospital in Edinburgh, having only made her arrangements with Jack hours before?

  Fate seemed to be stepping in again. It had been so easy to arrange care for the children. A very excited Poppy had gone home with Jeannie for the night and Oliver was having his first-ever sleepover at his friend Ben’s house.

  It made it easy to ask Adam what she needed to ask, after the initial conversation and reassurance that Jock was getting the best treatment possible had faded into silence.

  Thank goodness Adam was driving. Emma had used up every ounce of energy she had and she knew she would fall asleep very soon. Maybe it was sheer exhaustion that stopped her feeling hesitant in making her request.

  ‘Would it be all right if I had a day off next week? I’ve … got a kind of appointment in Edinburgh that I need to go to.’

  ‘Of course you can have a day off. You haven’t had one since you came. I keep telling you I can cope at the weekends.’

  ‘The thing is … it’s a weekday, not the weekend, and I’d need to stay the night. The … ah … appointment’s late so I’d need to wait until the next day to get the train back. It would be fine for the children to stay with their friends again. I … um … checked.’

  The sideways look she received was disconcerting. It reminded her of that first time she’d met Adam, when he’d looked at her as if she was the last person he’d want to be looking after his children. The atmosphere in the car suddenly felt like it had on that first day, too, when he’d driven her home and she’d been imagining his wife buried somewhere under the driveway.

  It did sound dodgy, didn’t it? A late-night appointment? And it was on a day that would make child care a challenge for him and she’d taken a huge liberty in tentatively making arrangements herself. But she couldn’t tell him the truth or he might realise he had made a mistake in trusting her with his children. That she was sick and … and unreliable.

  ‘It’s a … job interview …’ she heard herself saying. Unconvincingly? She tried again. ‘Music’s my first love. That’s why I don’t take on full-time or permanent jobs. I’m seeing someone about the possibility of a future gig.’

  That wasn’t so far from the truth, was it? It was just about her whole future and not just a gig.

  The silence kept growing. Becoming more and more loaded with every passing second, but Adam was being assaulted by unpleasant emotions.

  Had he really thought Emma was incapable of lying? It was obvious she was not telling the truth right now. He could hear echoes of Tania.

  There’s a sale on … It’s my favourite designer, darling … It’s only for a day … maybe two …

  But it wasn’t fair not to trust Emma because of the skill with which Tania had manipulated him.

  He wanted to trust her. So much.

  And it wasn’t her fault that it was so hard.

  Finally—too late—he managed a grunt in response. But he couldn’t meet her eyes. He had to keep staring at the road ahead of them.

  ‘Do what you need to,’ he growled. ‘I’ll cope.’

  Emma woke up as the car jolted over the tree roots on the driveway and, almost instantly, found herself shivering.

  It wasn’t just the physical cold, although there was enough snow now for her feet to crunch through it as she followed Adam up the steps to the front door.

  This was an emotional chill, too.

  Adam McAllister had gone back into his shell, hadn’t he? Ba
ck to being the man who never really smiled and who couldn’t bear the celebration of something as joyous as Christmas.

  And all because she’d asked for a day off?

  No. Emma knew there was more to it than that. Maybe it was the way Adam was avoiding both eye contact and any conversation as they went into the house. Or it could have been the way Bob shot her an almost accusing look before going quietly to his master’s side. Most likely, it was catching sight of the mistletoe wreath that Emma had hung in the corner near the coat stand that made it crystal clear.

  This was about the kiss.

  About her.

  The desire wasn’t one-sided, was it? But Adam didn’t know what to do about it because he was still caught in his grief and she’d just made it clear that she couldn’t wait to move on—to another gig.

  For once Adam wasn’t rushing into the kitchen where he’d drop his coat over the back of the nearest chair or on the arm of the sofa. He was taking it off slowly and deliberately and clearly intended hanging it on the rack.

  Slowly enough for Emma to have another blinding moment of clarity.

  She’d thought she had nothing to offer Adam but she had been wrong.

  Catherine would applaud the fact that she’d pushed him into allowing Christmas into his house for the sake of the children but … what if she could give him—give all of them—more than that?

  This man deserved to be loved again.

  The children desperately needed a mother, not just a series of nannies.

  How perfect would it be if it could be her?

  But, if it couldn’t, she could still help. She could help him take that first step. They had the house to themselves. Nobody but she and Adam need know.

  Maybe the real gift she could give Adam was the permission to be really happy again? To show him what it could be like.

  She could offer Adam hope. A belief that it was possible. He was an outstanding doctor and father but she could help him get over that huge barrier he’d put around himself as a man.

  ‘Adam?’ Slipping out of her own coat, Emma stood beside him at the coat rack. ‘I’m sorry … I don’t have to go to that appointment in Edinburgh. It’s not that I don’t want to be here with you and children. It’s just that—’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. I told you that.’

  ‘But it does,’ Emma said softly. ‘I don’t want to make things difficult. I know I’m not here for very long but I want this to be a special time—one that will make special memories—for all of us …’

  Herself included. The whisper in the back of her mind reminded her that this could turn out to be her last Christmas. She had nothing to lose. Adam had everything to gain.

  Oh, help … he was standing so very still. His eyes were closed.

  When his eyes slowly opened, he wasn’t looking down at Emma. He was looking up—at the mistletoe wreath. And then he reached up and picked a whole bunch of those little, waxy white berries.

  Finally, he made eye contact and the smouldering depths in those dark eyes stole Emma’s breath.

  And her heart.

  He might be fighting it but he wanted her.

  Needed her.

  Emma had to close her eyes because her own wanting and needing was overwhelming and this had to be Adam’s decision. His choice.

  She heard his deep groan. And then she felt him move. One arm went around her waist and the other caught the back of her legs. She was scooped up as if she weighed almost nothing and she held on tightly and buried her face against his neck, allowing herself to sink into total trust as Adam carried her upstairs.

  To his bed.

  She felt so light in his arms. Thin enough to seem fragile as he set her down gently onto her feet when he’d reached his room and pushed the door shut with his foot to keep the dogs out.

  To keep the whole world out.

  Emma’s arms were still around his neck as her feet touched the floor and she must have stayed on tiptoe to reach his lips with her own so easily.

  There was nothing fragile about that kiss. He could feel only the strength of her desire and a need that was as great as his own for the comfort of intimate, human touch.

  It had been so long. Adam’s hands slipped beneath the woollen jumper to feel skin that was like silk. Small, firm breasts that seemed to push themselves into his hands and nipples that were as hard as tiny pebbles.

  Touching them with his hands wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. As blissful as it was, kissing Emma, he needed his mouth and his lips to savour other parts of her perfect body.

  A tug on her clothing seemed to be enough. Emma dropped her arms and stepped back. Just far enough to grasp her jumper herself and peel it off over her head. And then she began to unbutton her shirt but Adam stilled her hands.

  ‘Let me.’

  His fingers fumbled with the tiny buttons and Adam realised, to his horror, that they were shaking. She wasn’t watching his hands, though. As he looked up he found she was watching his face. Waiting for a contact that went so much deeper than physical touch. And when he gave it to her, he couldn’t look away.

  Could he do this? Could he love Emma in the way she deserved to be loved? Without disappointing her?

  Emma could feel the tears in her eyes as she felt the way Adam’s hands were trembling.

  This big, strong man who could save a life and do such intricate manoeuvres with those hands without the slightest tremor couldn’t hide his emotions in this moment.

  This was huge. So huge that Adam was nervous. It wouldn’t last. She knew that as soon as they got over this awkward moment of shedding their clothing and they could touch each other properly, any doubts or nerves on either side would cease to exist.

  But in this brief moment of such vulnerability she realised just how much she loved Adam. She wouldn’t only be giving him her body tonight. She would be giving him her heart—for as long as he wanted it.

  Or as long as fate would allow.

  And maybe something of what she was feeling was communicated as they held each other’s gaze for such a long, long moment, because she felt that trembling stop. She saw the doubt vanish from Adam’s eyes and could see something that seemed to mirror what she was feeling herself. A reflection—or was Adam gifting her his heart?

  And then she could see—or maybe sense—the moment that desire ignited and there was nothing but the need to be as close as physically possible. There was no further awkwardness. Anything that was going to stop them being skin to skin seemed to be discarded as easily as ice melting in hot sunshine.

  Adam flicked back the bed covers and then drew Emma against his body. In a heartbeat they would be lying on that bed together but she loved it that he stopped to gaze at her for a moment longer. To bend his head and give her such a tender kiss that promised he would look after her.

  That he intended to make this night unforgettable.

  Not that Emma had the slightest doubt that this would be the case but she loved being given the promise. Along with her body and her heart, Adam McAllister had just won her lifelong trust.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE MAGIC WAS getting stronger.

  Emma’s gift to Adam had been received so well it seemed that he wanted to unwrap it all over again the following night, and Emma was only too happy to participate, tiptoeing into Adam’s room when the children were fast asleep.

  How amazing that the same gift could be given in both directions.

  And that parts of it could be given to others without them knowing how or why it was happening?

  They were being very careful to make sure the children didn’t realise what had changed between them but the magic was still happening.

  The new connection between Adam and Emma was sending out tendrils that were touching the children. Making them all feel like a family.

  Like when naughty Benji had mistaken the old teddy Poppy carried everywhere now, for a dog toy and had grabbed its leg. Poppy had tried to keep hold of it but ended up pulling off the damag
ed arm and she had been distraught.

  ‘Emma can fix it,’ Adam consoled her.

  ‘Daddy can fix it,’ Emma said at the same time.

  They looked at each other and smiled.

  ‘You’re good at sewing,’ Adam said. ‘I’ve seen that pretty dress you made Poppy for the play.’

  ‘You’re the doctor,’ she said solemnly. ‘An amputated arm is much more in your line of work.’

  ‘Aye …’ Adam nodded thoughtfully but his eyes held a mischievous glint. ‘I’ll need a scrub nurse, though.’

  ‘I love new jobs.’ It was hard not to grin but Poppy was still sobbing.

  ‘We need a clean sheet,’ Adam told her, ‘so we’ve got an operating table. Ollie? Can you go and bring my doctor bag, please?’

  It was a treat, turning the small disaster into a game that the children were fascinated by. With a clean sheet on the table, Adam pretended to give teddy an anaesthetic with a nebuliser. He’d found masks and gloves for both he and Emma to wear and he seemed more than happy to use up other medical supplies, like the suture kit.

  It might have been a game but watching Adam draw the teddy’s furry fabric together and make the complicated-looking knots of real sutures impressed Emma as much as it did the children. Their father was doing his important, real work at home. For teddy.

  ‘Pay attention, scrub nurse,’ Adam growled at one point. ‘You have to cut the thread now.’

  Emma giggled and, after a startled moment, so did both the children.

  Teddy’s arm got bandaged when the operation was finished and then he got sent off to Intensive Care in Poppy’s bedroom because it was bedtime. Ollie got to carry him because he’d been promoted to orderly.

  ‘I’ll bet they’ll remember that for the rest of their lives,’ Emma told Adam later that night as she lay in his arms yet again. ‘The night Daddy operated on teddy.’

  ‘I think I’ll remember it,’ Adam replied quietly. ‘It was special.’