Highland Doc's Christmas Rescue

by Susan Carlisle

  The sun was shining this morning, promising a warmer day than usual, and she was glad she’d left Lyle’s scarf and hat behind, not wanting to have to carry them.

  In the center of the village just feet from where she’d stepped off the bus was the cobblestoned village square. She followed the crowd to a building she’d overheard was called the community center. There were a number of tents set up outside, but Cass found the majority of the stalls inside. The individual areas each had their own holiday decorations. It was like entering a winter wonderland. Excitement filled her at the thought of some retail therapy. She wasn’t much of a “girly-girl” where most things were concerned, but she did love a shopping trip. The van had come in early enough that the crowd was still comfortably small. Visiting the stalls should be fun.

  She planned to buy boots and socks today as Lyle had suggested that first night. However, she would wait until later to shop for them to avoid carrying them around any longer than necessary. After she was finished at the Christmas market she would ask someone where to do shoe shopping. For now, she was going to see what the market had to offer.

  The first stall she came to held handmade wooden figurines. Behind the table sat an older, grizzled man with the air of an outdoorsman. He glanced up for a moment then went back to whittling.

  Cass picked up an angel and admired the workmanship. The texture was smooth and there was attention to detail. The face had the kind of expression befitting an angel. It was old-world craftsmanship at its best. Her mother would love any of the items on display. She would return to buy something for her mother before she headed back to the castle. Hoping she would make it home before Christmas, she planned on being prepared to celebrate with her family.

  When they’d heard she was injured they had wanted to come to her in Germany. She had convinced them not to, assuring them she was going to be fine. Once she’d been sent to therapy she had persuaded them she would be home sooner if she concentrated on getting better. What she hadn’t said was that she needed time to recover emotionally so she wouldn’t fall apart in front of them, as she had with Lyle.

  Cass paused at every stall, fearing that if she didn’t she might miss something. At this rate she wouldn’t see all the market today and would still climb back on the bus with an armload of purchases. However, she needed to get some local money to buy things. She went outside to the street and searched for an ATM sign. Soon she had some pounds in her pocket. Conscious of smiling for the first time in a long while she went to the nearest stall.

  This one offered handmade Christmas-tree ornaments. Cass was enthralled. Each one unique, they were made out of natural things like nuts, twigs, and pine cones. They would be perfect on a tree. Once again she resisted the impulse to buy and moved on to the next display.

  There she found leather goods of quality craftsmanship. She continued walking, merely looking at some stalls and handling items at others. Coming to town had been a good decision, even though she had initially intended only to buy new walking boots and socks. Nevertheless she was having a nice day. Even the bustle of the growing crowd made her feel more alive. She had needed this kind of therapy.

  Spying a sign with the words “Aileen’s Knitting” on it, she made her way over. It was past time to return Lyle’s hat and scarf but Cass wanted to get her own before she did so. And some gloves.

  The stall had two tables and a number of hat racks filled with hats and scarfs of every color. Cass went to one of the tables and ran her hand over a few of the items of outerwear, even trying on a couple. She studied herself in a mirror hung on a stand to see how she looked. The pale pink and gray striped scarf and matching solid pink hat she especially liked.

  A plump middle-aged woman sat behind the table next to a small heater. Her needles clicked as she spoke. “That looks lovely on you.”

  Her Scottish brogue was so thick Cass had to concentrate to understand her. “Thank you. Your work is beautiful. And so soft.” Cass pulled the cap off and picked up another in the same color but with a rosette on the side. She studied it.

  At that moment a familiar masculine shoulder pushed a door open just behind the woman. Lyle entered, carrying a box. He turned and the door closed. She must have caught his eye because he looked at her with surprise. A smile curved his lips that made her middle flutter. “Well, hi, there. I see you took my suggestion about coming to the market.”

  Her face warmed. This was their first encounter since they had kissed. Surely if she acted like it hadn’t happened, he would as well. “Yeah, I’m doing some shopping therapy, like the doctor ordered.”

  Lyle looked over the box at her. “I wouldn’t say I ordered it, but I’m glad you came.”

  She nodded toward the box. “I see you’re moonlighting. You don’t have enough jobs already?”

  He chuckled as he rested the corner of the box on the edge of the table, continuing to hold it. “It’s more like helping my mother out. Muscles and all that.”

  Cass knew those muscles well. She had felt those strong arms around her and the firmness of his chest when she’d pressed her face against it. She glanced at Lyle’s mother, who watched them with pronounced interest, her knitting momentarily forgotten.

  Lyle’s head turned as if following Cass’s line of sight. “Mum, this is Cass Bellow. She’s one of our residents at the castle. Cass, my mother, Aileen Sinclair.”

  Cass was unsure how to respond. Lyle’s mother was looking between the two of them as if she suspected something Cass was refusing to admit to herself. A second too late to sound natural, Cass finally managed to get out, “It’s nice to meet you. Your work really is lovely. I wish I had your talent.”

  The door opened again and a tall man who was undoubtedly an older version of Lyle joined them with a box in his hands. “Aileen, where do you want this?

  “Over in the corner will be fine.” Lyle’s mother pointed to the one opposite hers. “I don’t want it near the heater.”

  The man put the box down as instructed and turned to Cass. Something about his bearing made Cass want to stand at attention and pass inspection yet he looked in poor health. His was gaunt, far too thin for his height. There wasn’t a sparkle in his eyes like Lyle’s. His skin had a grayish tint to it. Lyle’s father was sick.

  “Sir, this is Cass Bellow. My father, retired Colonel Gregor Sinclair.”

  Still resisting the urge to salute, she settled for, “Hello, sir.”

  “Hello, young lady.” The older man offered his hand. Cass put hers inside his. He still had a firm grip, but his fingers felt fragile in hers.

  She looked at Lyle’s parents. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

  “You’re not from around here, I can tell,” Lyle’s father said.

  Cass chortled. “Is it that obvious? No, I’m from America. Montana currently.”

  Lyle’s father nodded. “I worked with many Americans while I was in the military. Good sorts. I expect that Lyle will be working with some as well when he returns to active duty.”

  Her look swung to Lyle. Was he going to join the army again? He seemed to love working at the clinic.

  Before she could ask, he took the hat from her hand. “This will look nice on you.”

  She unwrapped the scarf from her neck. “I think so too. I’d like to get both of them, and the gloves as well. They’re too nice to pass up. Plus I need to return yours.”

  “You do?” Lyle’s mother gave him a questioning look.

  “Cass didn’t have a chance to prepare for our Scottish weather before she was transferred here.” Lyle turned to put his box on top of the other one as if discouraging more of his mother’s questions.

  Cass pulled out her cash, counted out the correct amount indicated on a sign next to the mirror, then handed it across the table.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Sinclair. Maybe one day I’ll learn to knit and make something half as lovely as your work.�
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  “If you’d like to learn I could show you. Lyle could bring you to the house some day for lunch.” Lyle’s mother looked from Cass to her son, a small smile on her lips.

  Was Aileen’s maternal intuition working overtime? Cass shook her head. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean to imply you should teach me.”

  “Nonsense. I’d love to give you a lesson. And at this time of the year knitting is about all I’m doing anyway, with the Christmas market going until the season is over.” The clicking of the needles started again.

  Cass didn’t know what to think about Aileen’s invitation but she said the polite thing. “Thank you.”

  “Would you like a bag for those?” Mrs. Sinclair asked, a nod of her head indicating the knitted items Cass held.

  Cass glanced down. “No, I think I’ll wear them.” She stuffed the gloves in her pocket, looped the scarf around her neck again and pulled the hat snugly over her head. “It was nice to meet you Colonel and Mrs. Sinclair.” Giving Lyle a swift look as she turned to leave, she added, “Bye.” Hesitating a second, she turned to look at Lyle. “Would you mind giving me directions to where I can buy some boots?”

  “Why don’t I show you instead?” he offered.

  “I don’t want to put you out. I’m sure your mother needs your help.” Cass didn’t need him thinking she was using that as a ploy to spend more time with him.

  “I’m good for now.” Aileen waved a hand. “While you’re gone, Lyle, why don’t you stop by McKinney’s Pub and get Cass one of their pies?” She looked directly at Cass. “Best meat pies you’ll find anywhere.”

  Lyle stepped around the table and came to stand beside Cass. His hand touched her back briefly and was gone. He called over his shoulder to his mother, “I’ll do it.”

  They worked their way around the people coming and going as they walked in the direction of the door. A couple of times Lyle put a gentle hand in the small of her back while guiding her through the crowd.

  “That hat and scarf color is very flattering on you,” he said. “Reminds me of when you blush. Your cheeks turn that shade.” He grinned as their gazes met. “Like right now.”

  The compliment gave her a luscious warm throughout her body like a hot drink heating her from the inside out.

  They exited the building and turned left down the street. As they continued walking toward the other end of the village green they approached a monument. It consisted of a tall narrow shaft encircled by steps. On top was a small statue.

  “What’s this?” Cass stopped and studied it.

  “It’s a Mercat Cross. They have been used in Scotland since the eleven-hundreds to distinguish the right by the monarch to hold a market or fair. They were symbols of authority. There’re aren’t many of them left now. We’re rather proud of ours.”

  “That’s interesting.” She liked learning historical facts about places she went.

  “They’re not only places for merchants to meet but places where state and civic proclamations would be made. Even to this day in Edinburgh the town crier will still make proclamations on occasions.”

  She looked up to where the statue stood on top. “I would love to hear one sometime.”

  “Maybe you will one day.”

  Cass doubted that. She wouldn’t be here long enough for that to happen.

  They moved on in comfortable silence until they made their way through the crowd and out into the open again.

  “So how have your last few days of working with the dogs gone?”

  Cass glanced over at him. “Don’t you already know? I figured you’ve been checking up on me.”

  Lyle chuckled. “I have, but I’d like to hear from you.”

  She appreciated his honestly. “It’s going better than I expected. I admit it was tough to get started, but I’m getting used to the dogs and them to me.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” He did sound pleased, as if her happiness really mattered to him.

  She couldn’t say she was happy yet, but she’d moved the needle that direction. “You’re not really surprised, are you?”

  “Not really. Canine therapy has proved very effective. Even on those who are resistant.” He gave her a knowing look.

  “Is that your way of saying I told you so?” Somehow she didn’t mind if he did. This was the best she had felt since before the accident. Her thoughts weren’t so dark anymore.

  Lyle stopped in front of a shop built of brown timber. The upper half of the door had four window panes. A Christmas wreath hung low beneath the glass. Attached above the door was a swag of greenery entwined with red ribbon. On either side of the door were display windows filled with boots, coats and other outdoor wear. All of it was arranged to create the impression of presents under a Christmas tree.

  Lyle opened the door for her. “The shoes are at the back on the right.”

  Cass followed him down a narrow aisle lined with high shelves stuffed with items. The dim lighting added to the alluring atmosphere. The place smelled of wood oil and pine. Cass inhaled, taking it deep into her lungs. It reminded her of Lyle. She was enchanted with the shop. In fact, she was charmed by everything about the Heatherglen area, including Lyle. What was happening to her?

  They arrived at the back of the shop. There in one corner was a small wooden bench along with boxes of boots piled on the floor.

  Lyle stretched to his full height and looked over the shelves. “Apparently Mr. Stewart isn’t around. We’ll have a look at these and he should be back soon. He must have stepped out for lunch. I have experience with this so we’ll just help ourselves.”

  Cass lowered her chin, eyeing him dubiously. “You’ve been a shoe salesman?”

  He gave her an indignant look. “I worked here when I came home on school breaks.”

  “Oh. So you are a jack-of-all-trades.”

  He stepped toward the boxes. “I wouldn’t exactly say that, but I can handle reading shoeboxes. What’s your size?”

  “Eight and a half, US.” She sat on the bench.

  Lyle nodded and studied them a moment. Moving a couple, he pulled one out. “I hope I made the European to American conversion correctly. Give these a try and we’ll see.”

  She took the box from him and opened it. Removing her shoes, Cass pulled the new boot on her right foot. She stood and wiggled her toes. “Nicely done. Feels good but I would really rather have them in black.”

  “I aim to please. Let me see what I can find.” Lyle shifted around a few boxes. With a bright smile on his handsome face, he handed her a box.

  Cass sat on the bench again and started trying on the second boot.

  “What’s your favorite color?” Lyle asked, his back to her as he straightened boxes.

  “Why?”

  “You need some good socks.” He studied her with visible curiosity.

  She continued trying on her new boots. “Blue.”

  He moved down the wall and seconds later handed her a pair of thick socks. “These’ll keep your feet warm and wick the moisture away. I promise you’ll like them.”

  Cass removed the boots and her socks then pulled on the new ones. “I can already tell the difference.” She flexed her foot then slipped her foot into the boot. Nice. Quickly she pulled on the other boot and laced them both up.

  Standing, she walked back and forth a couple of times, testing the feel of the footwear. “You know, if you ever decide to give up medicine you could have a future as a personal shopper.”

  Lyle gave a regal bow. “Thank you. I have to say with complete confidence that’s the first time anyone has suggested that to me.”

  They both laughed.

  When was the last time she’d laughed like this? How had she not noticed it slipping away?

  She liked Lyle’s relaxed view of life. With his job and military background she marveled he wasn’t uptight and domineerin
g. Instead he seemed to accept life as it came and made the most of it whenever he could. Cass needed more of that in her world.

  Lyle had a way of making her smile, and she also needed more of that right now. However, she must not start depending on him to make her feel better. She had to depend on herself. She had to regain her strength. Be strong.

  If she opened up to him any further, leaving him would be a new trauma, one she knew she couldn’t handle. Her job certainly didn’t lend itself to an easygoing and emotional personality. Even when she was at home her focus had been on working with Rufus to keep them both sharp. Had the men in her life been right? Did she live too closed off? Had been concentrating on her job and Rufus more than she should have?

  “You want to keep those on?” He picked up the box.

  “I believe I will. Start breaking them in.” Cass picked up her other shoes and placed them in the box while Lyle held it. She met his gaze. “By the way, what’s your favorite color?”

  “Green.” His eyes didn’t waver. “I’m particularly fond of the shade of green of your eyes.”

  Her breath caught. “Are you flirting with me?”

  “What if I am?” He took the box and set it on the bench. “I’ve been thinking about that kiss.”

  A tingle ran through her. “You shouldn’t.”

  “What? Think about it or think about doing it again?”

  “Both, ” she squeaked.

  “Why?” His voice turned gravelly, went soft. Lyle stepped toward her.

  Because she was damaged. Because she was scared. Because she couldn’t handle caring about anything or anyone again. “Because I’m leaving soon.”

  “Cass, we can share an interest in each other without it becoming a lifelong commitment. I’d like to get to know you better. Couldn’t we be friends? Enjoy each other’s company while you’re here?”