by Cara Colter
But rather than saving her houses, Dirk caught hold of her, righting her while the table and its contents crashed to the floor.
The sound of glass crashing into glass sent her cat tearing from the room with a screech.
“Are you okay?” he asked, visually checking her, grateful not to see any blood as she could easily have cut herself on the broken pieces.
“My mother’s village!” She pulled free of him and dropped to her knees, picking up the pieces.
“Those are just things. Are you okay? The baby?”
When he’d watched her falling back, his anger had dissipated into fear. Fear that she might be hurt, that she might lose the baby.
Abby ignored his questions about her well-being and righted the table. She picked up the church first, noted the missing steeple, the chip at the base. She dug her fingernail into the chipped area and took a deep breath, then continued to pick up piece after piece.
Dirk knew that she connected the decorations with her family, with the connection the three of them had once shared.
He bent to help her, picking up the pieces of the train set and placing them back on the righted table, carefully reconnecting the track, the train engine and cars. Two of the houses were intact, so was the schoolhouse. The carousel had a tiny chip at the base. All the other village houses had larger breaks.
Dirk took her hands into his. “Sit down, Abby. This is only upsetting you. I’ll do the rest, save what can be salvaged.”
“No. I think you’ve already done enough, don’t you?” Her chin lifted. Her eyes blazed, blazed so intently that Dirk winced. He’d never seen that anguish, that pain, that accusation in Abby’s eyes before.
“I didn’t do this, Abby.” But he hadn’t been innocent. He’d been so wrapped up in his own emotions over his family’s “surprise” that he hadn’t considered Abby’s emotions, hadn’t acknowledged that she’d been trying to do something good by having his family there. Instead, he’d attacked the moment they’d walked out the door.
“No, I did this,” she admitted, glaring at him. “I ruined my mother’s Christmas village.”
A coldness had crept into Abby’s voice. A coldness he’d never heard from her. A coldness that held finality.
Her fingers clasped tightly the church steeple she held. She looked ready to snap into as many pieces as the village collection had.
She looked like she wanted to snap him into a zillion pieces and toss him out with the trash.
Abby didn’t say anything more. She couldn’t. Her throat had swollen shut with emotion. Her voice gone. Perhaps for ever.
She stared at the church’s steeple in her shaking hands. Her entire insides shook. Her mother’s Christmas village. Broken.
How could she have been so stupid as to fall into the table? How could she have been so stupid as to fall in love with a man who could never love her back?
“Abby?”
She sucked in a breath, knowing she couldn’t just keep sitting here, staring at the shattered remains of the only tangible things she had of happier times, of her childhood.
The damage was done. There was no undoing it. She’d make do with the best she could, to repair the pieces she could repair. Try not to wonder if fate wasn’t trying to tell her something.
That she might dream of the wonderful Christmas village scenario with Dirk, but all she was going to get was shattered dreams, and the sooner she accepted that, the less she’d have her hopes crushed.
“These are just things. You still have your memories of the Christmases with your parents. That’s what’s important.”
Hearing Dirk say that made something snap inside Abby. Something that perhaps had been on edge from the moment she’d found out she was pregnant. From the moment she’d realized she’d never have her happily-ever-after dream. Never have magical Christmases of her own. Never have what her parents had had. Tonight, watching him with his family, had shattered all hope.
“How dare you call my mother’s Christmas village ‘things’?” she accused. “You, the man who could care less about his family.”
“I care about my family.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “You have an odd way of showing it.”
“You don’t understand my relationship with my family.”
“Your family doesn’t understand your relationship with them. Nor do they like it. God, you are so lucky to have a family to love you, but you know what? You don’t deserve them, Dirk.”
His jaw worked as he regarded her. “My relationship with my family is none of your business.”
Unable to sit still another moment, she stood, glared down at him. “You’re right. It’s not. I’m just pregnant you’re your child. A fact you haven’t bothered to share with your family.”
He stood, did some glaring of his own. “I thought you didn’t want anyone to know.”
“Great excuse, but we’re not talking about anyone. We’re talking about your family. Our baby’s family.” She’d never wanted to shake another human being before, but at that moment she wanted to shake Dirk. To jar some sense into him. “Are you embarrassed by me? Or were you not planning on telling them about me ever?”
Oh, God. Was that what the problem had been tonight? Dirk hadn’t wanted his family to know about her? Hadn’t wanted them to know he’d knocked up some naive nurse who’d fallen in love with him at first sight? Oh, God. She had fallen in love at first sight. Just as her parents had. Only Dirk hadn’t fallen in love with her. He didn’t even want his family to know she existed, had been a jerk because she’d invited them for Christmas dinner.
“It’s not like that.” He looked as if he’d like to wrap his fingers around her and do some shaking of his own.
“They don’t understand how I feel. No one does.”
Which said it all. Said exactly where she fit into the grand scheme of things. She’d given and given to him. Of her time and her heart. And although Dirk had given of his time, had helped her at her volunteer stints, he hadn’t given her of his heart. Not once.
“Maybe it’s because you keep your heart locked up inside and won’t let anyone close, including your family.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Abby just stared at him.
His look of annoyance grew. “You have no idea how much trouble you’ve caused me by inviting them here.”
Trouble as in they’d be asking about her?
“Well, I’m sorry to inconvenience you.”
His jaw clenched, and he exhaled slowly. “Quit misreading everything I say.”
“Or maybe, for the first time, I’m reading everything the right way,” she said, knowing in her heart that it was true. She’d believed in Dirk’s inner goodness. Had even believed that he’d come around regarding Christmas.
She really had been naive.
If not for her pregnancy, Dirk wouldn’t be there. It was only his sense of responsibility that kept him coming round. Which wasn’t nearly enough to base a future on.
Not nearly enough for her heart.
Abby longed to sob at her loss, but she wouldn’t cry in front of him, wouldn’t let him see how much she hurt. Instead, she turned her back toward him and went to the sofa and collapsed onto the plush upholstery.
“Leave, Dirk. I don’t want you here.” She hadn’t known she was going to say the words, but once they left her lips she knew they were right, the only words she could say. Just like the Christmas village, her dreams, any hope of a future between them was shattered.
Silent, he walked over and sat down on the opposite end of the sofa. “You don’t want me to go.”
She gawked at his audacity. “Actually, I do. I saw a side of you tonight I never want to see again. You have no idea how lucky you are to have those people. They love you and want to be a part of your life.”
“They are a part of my life.”
“On the periphery perhaps.”
“I’ve already told you, I talk to them routinely.”
>
“About what? The weather? Sports? What is it you talk to them about? Because I got the impression they didn’t know quite what to say to you tonight.”
“There were no conversational lulls.”
“No, there weren’t, but no thanks to you.”
“I warned you that I wasn’t big on company.”
“Family is not the same thing as company. Family is everything.” But not to Dirk. He’d lost the only family that mattered to him, couldn’t see what was within his reach. And Abby had had enough. More than enough. She leapt from her sofa, flung open her front door. “Get out of my house, Dirk.”
“Abby—”
“Leave!” she shouted. “And don’t ever bother me again.”
Without another word, he gave her one last angry look, then left.
Abby started a hep lock while Dirk shined a light into their patient’s eyes.
Since he’d left her house the night before, she’d been fighting melancholy. She’d hoped he’d say he wanted to change, that he wouldn’t leave, that he planned to spend Christmas Day with her. Every day with her for the rest of his life. But she’d known better.
With as much time as they’d spent together over the last week, she’d thought she wouldn’t be alone this Christmas, had believed deep in her heart that she’d spend the day with Dirk. How could she have been so foolish as to get her hopes up? Her hopes had been higher than the North Pole.
What would Dirk do today? Sleep? Flip through television channels? Pretend it was no different from any other day of the year? He wouldn’t be driving to his mother’s for Christmas, wouldn’t be embracing the wonderful family she envied. More the pity for him.
But that wasn’t her problem. Not any more. She’d meant what she’d told him. She didn’t want him in her life. Not when he refused to acknowledge that what they’d shared had been more than friendship. Not when he refused to open his heart to love again. To open his heart to his family.
Which was why she’d ignored his phone calls today. Why she’d ignored his attempts to talk to her tonight. What was left to be said between them?
She loved Christmas.
He hated Christmas.
She loved family.
He’d shut his out.
Could they be any further apart? She didn’t think so.
“How did you fall?” Dirk asked the patient, pulling Abby back to the present. She bit the inside of her lip. She had to stay focused just a little while longer. Her shift was almost at an end. She could do this. Would do this. Then she’d talk to the nurse supervisor about having her schedule changed, changed to dates when she wouldn’t have to work with Dirk.
“My wife was complaining about the angle of the star on top of the Christmas tree. I climbed a stepladder, and it tipped.”
Dirk’s lips compressed into a tight line. Clearly, he blamed Christmas for the man’s tragedy. Was it easier for him to blame the holidays than to accept that accidents happened? He’d sure been quick enough to point out that accidents occurred when it had been her village pieces involved.
Village pieces that she’d painstakingly spent the day trying to glue back together.
“Do you recall how you landed? What you hit? How your weight was distributed?”
“It happened kind of fast, Doc.” The man scratched his head with the hand Abby didn’t have stabilized. “I know I hit my head.” The pump knot on his forehead attested to that. “And my right ribs are sore.”
“This happened about eight last night?”
The man nodded.
“What made you decide to come to the hospital this morning?”
“I woke up and couldn’t breathe. I think that’s what woke me.”
“Are you still short of breath?”
The man nodded. “Not as badly as at the house. My wife says I had a panic attack.”
“Your oxygen saturation is ninety-two percent. That’s not too bad,” Dirk explained. “But it’s not as high as it should be in an otherwise healthy person either. I’m going to order a few tests just to check you out and make sure you haven’t fractured any ribs or worse.”
“Worse?”
“Fall injuries can result in serious damage to a person’s body.”
The man nodded. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
As always, Dirk responded to his patient, making Abby wonder how he could smile so sincerely at a virtual stranger and not his own kin. “Maybe you should stay off ladders for a while, too. Ask someone to help you with anything that requires climbing.”
“Tell that to my wife. She has no patience and had to have that star straightened before the kids and grandkids show up in the morning for Christmas celebrations.”
Finishing what she was doing, Abby excused herself and disappeared out of the bay.
The moment she finished giving report, she rushed away, determined to somehow find joy in the most magical day of the year.
Her favorite day of the year.
His least favorite day of the year.
A day she’d spend alone yet again.
Christmas Eve shouldn’t be a busy night in the emergency room, but this one was. Midnight had come and gone, so technically Christmas morning had arrived.
The only thing Dirk liked about Christmas was it meant the end was near. The end of the season, the decorations, the smells, the aggravation and harassment from family.
Yes, the signal that the end of the season was near was the best part of Christmas Day.
Or it had been.
Now he wasn’t so sure. Somehow he’d tangled thoughts of Abby up with Christmas and the thought of the end put his insides in a viselike grip.
The end of Christmas. The end of his relationship with Abby. No, he wouldn’t accept that. Not under the circumstances.
God, his family would be ecstatic when they found out she was pregnant. How many times had they attempted to set him up with someone when he’d lived in Oak Park? How many times had they told him to find someone new and start over? How many times had they called to say how much they’d liked Abby, what a great cook she was, what a warm house she’d had, what a generous person she’d seemed? And he’d let them, because Abby’s accusations had kept playing over and over in his head.
None of his family had understood that he hadn’t wanted a new start, that he’d wanted his old life, a life that had been snatched away.
A life that had ended on the day his wife and daughter had died. Dirk had buried himself right along with them.
He hadn’t been happy in years. Hadn’t even really wanted to be. He’d preferred to wallow in his grief.
Until Abby.
In moving away, he had started over.
Quite frankly, that had scared the hell out of him. Had put him on the defensive. Had caused mixed emotions to surge. Emotions that made him want to cling to Abby and the hope she gave him. Emotions that made him want to pack up his bags and get out of Dodge. Emotions that had made him hold her at arm’s length, just as she’d nailed him for doing to his family.
But he and Abby had a baby on the way.
A baby.
A precious new life that he and Abby had made.
When she’d fallen into her Christmas village table, he’d only been able to think of her safety, their baby’s safety. Maybe he could have righted the table had he gone for it instead, but all he’d been concerned about had been keeping Abby from falling to the floor.
Because he wanted to keep her safe. Wanted to keep their baby safe.
He’d left when she’d asked him to, seeing she had been too upset to have the talk they needed to have, sensing that the emotions of both of them had been running too high. He’d been fine on his drive home. Fine when he’d walked through the front door. But when he’d crawled into his bed, alone, he’d done what he hadn’t done in years. Not since right after Sandra and Shelby’s accident. He’d been fairly positive there were no tears left inside him. The night the woman and her daughter died in the E.R. had been his first c
lue he might be wrong. He’d felt a crack in the protective wall that guarded his heart. Making love with Abby had sent a whole lot of bricks tumbling to the ground. Bricks he’d needed to keep himself safe.
But with Abby, she came first. Her and their baby. In that, she’d bulldozed right through the barriers around his heart, leaving him vulnerable.
Leaving him exposed to her warmth. Exposed to needing her. He’d been fighting to keep from making love to her every second they were together but as much as he’d enjoyed the passion they’d shared, he hadn’t enjoyed how much he’d needed her, how connected he’d felt to her, how much he’d hurt if something happened to Abby.
She’d been right about him. He had kept his family at a distance. Had kept them at arm’s length. How could he not? He’d always been the strong one in the family, but after Sandra and Shelby’s deaths, he hadn’t been strong.
He’d hated them seeing him that way.
Hated anyone seeing him that way.
So he’d shut them out.
No wonder they’d held an intervention.
He’d needed one. And more.
He’d needed Abby, so much so that he’d tried to hold her at arm’s length, too, for fear of loving again, of possibly losing that love again.
Need had won out. Need and so much more.
He loved Abby. And wanted to risk holding her and the baby they’d made close to his heart.
But judging by the way she hadn’t returned his calls, had all but ignored him since her arrival at shift change, he might have realized too late.
God, he couldn’t lose Abby. In her, he’d found his salvation. Had found himself again.
If he’d lost her, he had no one to blame except himself. But he refused to accept that she wouldn’t forgive his ignorance.
It was Christmas. A day of miracles. A day meant to be with the ones you loved. Somehow, he’d show Abby he could be the man she and their child needed.
A man who could be whole and start living again.
A man he desperately wanted to be.
Abby’s man.
If he had to go to drastic measures to make that happen, then so be it.