The Army Doc's Christmas Angel

by Annie O'Neil

  Spurring herself into action, she turned to go just as he lifted his head and met her eyes. Their gazes crashed together and locked tight.

  Naomi’s heart pounded against her chest as she saw his eyes brighten, then just as quickly turn dull with recognition as the smile faded from his lips.

  * * *

  “Naomi! Hang on a minute.”

  She looked as surprised as Finn felt. And the look of dismay on her face when he had let his features fall into a frown had touched something deep within him.

  He knew hurt.

  He knew pain.

  And he’d caused both in Naomi.

  “Don’t go.” He scanned his ragtag team of footie mates looking up at him for guidance. He’d never brought a “stranger” to sports night. Hell. He’d not brought anyone anywhere for years.

  “Do you think she wants some hot chocolate?” asked Ashley. She was the undisputed leader of the group. One crook of her arm and every single one of those kids followed in her wake.

  He glanced back across at Naomi, who was still rooted to the spot.

  Yeah. She’d “caught him” in his private place, but it was a public playing field. That, and he really had to do something to break the ever-increasing tension building between them. There were only so many alternative routes a man whose patients all required physio in a hospital with one exquisitely talented and beautiful-without-knowing-it physiotherapist could take.

  “C’mon.” He waved her over, two scrawny six-year-olds still hanging from each arm and—he looked down—yup, two kids on his good leg. At least they had the sense to leave his “robot” leg alone.

  The uncertainty in her eyes got to him. He wasn’t an ogre.

  Well.

  Not all the time.

  “It’s freezing out. Let’s get you a cup of hot chocolate. What do you say, lads and ladettes? Hot chocolate all round before I beat you all in the second half?”

  Cheers erupted round him and he couldn’t resist joining in. These kids were awesome. Some of them had special needs. Some of them were just lonely. For all the beauty and brains Cambridge had on offer, there was also a poorer, lonelier side. Parents working overnight caretaker shifts. Single mums earning just enough to pay the rent and not quite enough to get food on the table. More latchkey kids than there should be. More pain than there should be.

  If he could put a two-hour dent in their loneliness and give their cheeks a flush from a bit of a run-around and get some healthy grub into their bellies, then he was all for it. The hot chocolate was just a bonus. So week in, week out, this was his home away from home.

  He probably needed them as much as they needed him. They kept him from falling back into that pit of self-loathing that he’d used to ill effect. It had turned out that driving everyone you loved away had a flipside. You were on your own when the demons attacked.

  He looked across at Naomi and took an invisible punch to the chest when her features lit up with a genuine smile. A grin, actually. Had he noticed she had dimples before?

  Damn. That smile of hers pierced right through to bits of him that hadn’t so much as shown a flicker of interest in years. He was no monk, but even his home—a houseboat he’d picked up when he’d been retraining in London—was something he could unmoor and just...float away.

  It’s hot chocolate, you idiot. Not a proposal.

  He gently shook the boys off him, doing his best to avoid Naomi’s inquisitive looks. His hand was itching to reach out to the small of her back, see if touching her with fourteen layers of clothes on still elicited fireworks. Instead, he grabbed a little curly-haired moppet under his arm and gave him a quick fist bump. That sort of contact he could deal with. “All right, matey. Time to learn a little something about showing some hospitality.”

  * * *

  Finn steered everyone directly toward the sports center’s kitchen, which had its own outside entrance. There was a game going on in the gym he didn’t want to interrupt.

  “All right, everyone. To your stations!”

  The children all ran to their pre-assigned spots and Finn couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. Not because he wanted to show off in front of Naomi or anything—well, maybe a little—but it was nice to see these kids so keen to please. When he’d met them, most had lacked the social skills that would help them on a day-to-day basis.

  “Excuse me, miss?”

  Finn grinned. His star “pupil,” Archie, was standing in front of Naomi with a little pad of paper in his hand as if he worked at a Michelin-starred restaurant. “Please, miss. May I take your hot chocolate order?”

  Naomi squatted down so she was about the same height as Archie.

  It was a nice move. Not many people treated these kids with respect. He shouldn’t have been surprised Naomi would be one of them.

  “What are my options?” she asked, her eyes twinkling with delight.

  “Well...” Archie looked up at Finn with a flash of panic on his face. There weren’t really options. It was hot chocolate or...well, hot chocolate. Squash never really got a look-in this time of year.

  “Why don’t you ask the lady—whose name is Miss Collins—if she’d like it hot or cold, and whether or not she might like marshmallows on top?”

  “There are marshmallows?” Archie looked around at his playmates in disbelief. A ripple of excited whispers turned into a sea of high fives and whoops when Finn reached up above one of the cupboards where he’d stashed a tin of Christmas-tree-shaped marshmallows and revealed them to the children.

  Wide-eyed, Naomi reached to the floor to steady herself.

  What? A man wasn’t allowed to indulge in a bit of home economics?

  A soldier—an ex-soldier—had to feed himself. Especially when he’d told everyone who was dear to him to bugger off.

  Turned out water biscuits and cheese did not maketh the man.

  “But, Finn!” Archie shook his hands in exasperation. The kid had Asperger’s and always had to get things exactly right before he could move forward on any project. Even putting home-made marshmallows into hot chocolate. “Marshmallows are made from horses’ hooves, which also bear a similarity to reindeer hooves, which, if you consider the season—”

  “Whoa there, mate.” Finn gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze then lifted one of the little tree-shaped confections and popped it into his mouth. “These little babies are as pure as the driven snow. No horse hooves. No reindeer feet. Get your pen ready. I used vegan gelatin.” He ticked off the ingredients on his fingers slowly because he knew Archie would want to write them down. “Water. Sugar. Fairtrade.” He threw a look in Naomi’s direction, not entirely sure why he cared that she knew he bought Fairtrade, but...whatever. Proof he had a heart, he guessed. “Icing sugar. Salt and vanilla.”

  “My mother says sugar is evil,” one of the children jumped in.

  “Only evil if it’s your only food group.” And he should know. He’d survived off a stale box of party rings for a week once when his knee had been giving him jip. Weeks like that one had been the beginnings of finding the fight again. The will to live versus survival.

  So he’d cracked open a recipe book and—voilà. Turned out he could cook.

  “Extract or flavoring?” asked Archie.

  “Extract. Only the good stuff for you lot.”

  He reached up again and pulled down another tin, revealing a couple of dozen flapjacks dotted with cranberries and dried apricots and whatever else he’d found in his cupboards before his shift this morning.

  Archie cleared his throat and started again. “Miss Collins, would I be able to interest you in one of Cambridge sports club’s finest instant hot chocolate sachets with a topping of home-crafted marshmallows?”

  Naomi gave the ends of her red woolen scarf a tug and gave a low whistle. “Wow. That’s quite an offer. I would be delighted. Now...” she reached o
ut a hand to Archie “...what did you say your name was? Mine’s Naomi.”

  Archie looked up at Finn—a clear plea for permission to shake the pretty lady’s hand. Finn nodded.

  “Can I make it?” Ashley shot her hand up into the air as far as it would go.

  “I don’t know, can you?”

  “May I make it,” corrected Ashley. “Please?”

  “I want to pour the water!” Jimbo—their littlest warrior—leapt to the hot water urn.

  “Whoa, there, soldiers. Who’s the only man on campus who does the boiling water?”

  “You!” all the children shouted, their arms moving as one toward him followed by a little cheer that always cracked him up.

  These kids were nuts.

  He gave a couple of their sweaty little heads a scrub and as he turned to get to work caught Naomi looking at him with an expression of pure warmth. It disappeared so quickly when she saw he was looking at her it was akin to seeing a falling star.

  Little short of a miracle.

  * * *

  Naomi felt as if she’d walked into an alternate universe.

  Finn Morgan made marshmallows and flapjacks?

  She tried to picture him wearing a frilly pinafore and oven mitts and came up with... Oh, my, that was all she pictured him in.

  Unexpected.

  Was that what a glimpse of the “heart of gold” could do to a girl? Turn a man naked in her imagination?

  Crikey.

  She gave her head a shake and watched as all the children fell into place for what was obviously a finely tuned routine.

  The littlest kids pulled out mugs from the lower shelves of the sports center’s kitchen. Bigger ones emptied packets of hot chocolate into the mugs—about a dozen all told. One—who seemed to be the mini-matriarch of the pack—slotted herself in and around them to wipe up any stray chocolate powder.

  One scuttled up to Finn, who was holding court at the hot-water urn—wise, considering the sign on the metal urn warned that the water was at a boiling temperature at all times—and beckoned to him that he wanted to whisper something in his ear.

  Finn knelt down, his eyes shifting up to the ceiling as the little boy cupped his hands round Finn’s ear and whispered. Finn’s gray eyes traveled to the two mugs in the little boy’s hands and said something in a low rumbling voice then tipped his head in Naomi’s direction. “Go on.”

  The little boy shook his head and pressed the mugs into Finn’s huge hands. Had she actually noticed how big his hands were?

  He rose to his full height and turned to her.

  Gulp.

  About as big as the rest of him.

  “Miss Collins, would you like the flowery mug or the ladybird mug with a chip in it? Jamie is sorry in advance about the chip, but he can recommend use of the ladybird mug from personal experience.” He held them out to her, his features looking as serious as if he were offering her a choice between food for the rest of the month or famine. From the look on Jamie’s face, it was on a par.

  “Well...” She rose so that she could examine the mugs with proper consideration then gave Jamie a serious nod. “I think I’d like the ladybird mug, if that’s all right? Seeing as it comes so highly rated.”

  The little boy’s face nearly split in two with an ear-to-ear grin as he tugged at Finn’s shirt. “I told you.”

  “Well, then, Jamie. Maybe next time you can be brave enough to ask her yourself.”

  Finn’s eyes never left hers as he spoke.

  Next time?

  She was astonished there was a first time, let alone... Was this an olive branch? His way of saying he was sorry for raking her over the coals at the hospital?

  Her heart skipped a beat.

  “Finn, look.” A little boy came over to him, a marshmallow stuck on each of his index fingers. “I am the ghost of Christmas past!”

  And just like that the moment was gone and a new, sillier one had begun. Naomi didn’t know whether to be grateful or wistful.

  After a few minutes of fussing about with stirring hot chocolates into mugs, doling out the remaining marshmallows and filling kitchen towel squares with a flapjack each, the motley crew were told to head toward the benches in the gym to watch the game.

  “Game?”

  Finn was shuttling a couple of the children past her as she asked. He dropped an unexpected wink her way.

  “You’ll see.”

  * * *

  When the door to the gym was pushed open, Naomi’s eyes widened with delight.

  A full-on game of wheelchair basketball was under way complete with heated banter and the non-stop squeak and squeal of wheels on the gym floor. It was mesmerizing.

  About a dozen men and women—all in low-slung, wide-angle-wheelchairs—were careening round the gym with all the focused intent of a professional sports team. The atmosphere was absolutely electric.

  “All right, chaps and chapesses.” Finn issued a few instructions to his team, holding a couple of the steaming mugs of chocolate aloft as they clambered onto the benches to watch the game. From the gleams of excitement in their eyes this was clearly one of the highlights of their night out.

  “Want to grab a pew or are you happy here?”

  Finn stood beside Naomi, eyes glued to the game, but his presence... It was weird to say, but...it felt like their bodies were flirting. Which was completely mental.

  Particularly considering she didn’t flirt.

  She did happy.

  She did bubbly.

  Flutter her eyelashes and blush like a maiden on the brink of a kiss?

  Nope. That wasn’t her. Not by a long shot. Because if she were to allow herself to feel good things, she’d inevitably also feel all the bad things, too. And she never wanted to go back there. Because the bad things came cloaked in a bone-deep fear that was too terrifying to even consider confronting. Once had been more than enough.

  “Naomi?”

  “Happy here, thanks.” She took a sip of her chocolate and gave Finn a bright grin. “These marshmallows are amazing. You should sell them at the hospital café.”

  Finn barked a laugh. “Yeah. I’m sure Theo would love me upping the obesity rate right there on the hospital mezzanine.”

  Stung, she looked away. “I was hardly suggesting—” She stopped when she felt Finn’s hand on her arm, the heat of it searing straight through the triple layers of her outdoor wear.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “You never do, do you?”

  Finn stepped back and shoved his free hand through that tangle of dark, wavy hair that was all but begging for someone who looked a lot like her to do the same. He never broke eye contact and it took just about all the willpower she possessed not to look away.

  “No,” he finally said. “I don’t.”

  She had absolutely no reason to believe him. But she did. Something about the flashes of light hitting those steel-gray eyes of his...they spoke volumes. He knew pain. He’d seen it in her eyes just as she’d seen it in his.

  At least she now knew they shared some common ground.

  His home-made marshmallows were also ridiculously lovely.

  Silver linings and all that.

  They watched the rest of the game in silence. It was a revelation, watching the hard-core stamina of the wheelchair users in action.

  A few minutes later when the whistle was blown he strode across to a man with a pitch-black buzz cut and piercing blue eyes. When both of them looked her way she checked behind her to see what they were looking at. When she looked back, Finn was beckoning her to come over.

  “Naomi, I’d like you to meet one of my oldest—’

  “Hold up!” The man interrupted. “Longest term—not oldest. Let’s keep this accurate.” He laughed good-naturedly. “You may continue.”

&nb
sp; Finn gave his friend a punch in the arm then, still smiling, began the introduction again. “Naomi the Physio meet Charlie the Basketball champ.” The change in his tone and demeanor was as warming to her belly as the hot chocolate had been. The two men obviously shared a deep friendship. It was nice to see Finn had so much more to him than gruff bluster and, of course, his incredible reputation as a surgeon.

  “Champ?” she asked, truly impressed.

  Charlie waved off the title. “Just a couple of regional matches where we beat the pants off the other county teams. Funding’s always a problem, but we’re hoping to get to the Commonwealth Games next time they come round in the UK. I might be a bit long in the tooth by then, but some of these whippersnappers might still be up to it.” He raised his voice and aimed it in their direction. “So long as they all keep listening to my outstanding coaching!”

  They sent back their own set of razzes then took the children up on their offer to pour water for them all from the big cooler at the end of the court.

  Naomi stood with Charlie as Finn jogged across to oversee the “catering.”

  “You two together?”

  Naomi sucked in her breath and gave an incredulous laugh. “No. I was just walking past and saw them playing. We work together. That’s all.”

  “Huh.” Charlie pinned his bright blue eyes on her, as if to say, I’m more than happy to wait it out until you come clean.

  It didn’t take long.

  “Honestly. We don’t really know each other. The hospital’s still relatively new. I do my thing. He does his.”

  “Yeah, well. I think there might be a little bit o’ the lady protesting too much.” He chuckled and gave the beads of sweat on his brow a swipe. “I’ve known Finn a long time and he’s never brought anyone in here to see him do his thing before.”

  “Oh.” Seriously? Then again...the man played his cards so close to his chest she sometimes wondered if he’d even seen them. But the only one to ever see him do this amazing work? “Well... I did just happen to be walking past, so...”