Poles Apart

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Poles Apart Page 10

by Ueckermann, Marion


  Niklas gazed down at the dozen wheat-colored bodies writhing in the whelping box, shades of blue, red, pink, orange, green, and yellow around their necks. Surely, there couldn’t be many more?

  He glanced back at Sarah as she stirred.

  “Hi...” Her voice slurred.

  “Hei. You sleep well?”

  She nodded. “I didn’t realize how tired I was. Must be all the late nights.” She blinked and stretched her eyes, attempting to shake off the aftereffects of her nap. “Have I been sleeping long?”

  “A few hours.”

  “The puppies? Are they all born?”

  “I’m not sure. I think so.”

  Sarah bolted upright and crawled across to Niklas. She peeked over the side of the box. “There’s so many.”

  “A dozen is rather an impressive number.”

  Her eyes moistened. “I’m sorry I missed it all.”

  How he’d love to take her in in arms and pull her close, wipe those tears away, but he’d only just helped deliver what was hopefully the last pup. Instead he brushed his lips over hers. “So am I.” This would have been such an amazing experience to share with her.

  Sarah’s gaze returned to the newborns. “They’re so small,” she whispered.

  “Not for long. Soon this house will be too small for them all.”

  “You’re keeping them?”

  A chuckle erupted as he shook his head. “I wish I could, but no. I already have homes for most of them. But I’ll have to find a few more. I wasn’t anticipating such a big litter.”

  Sarah scrunched her nose right before a smile spread across her face. “They’re so cute. I wish I could take one. But—” She drew in a deep breath. “South Africa’s so far away, and I’ll be heading home long before they’re ready to leave their mother.”

  “You could—”

  “Oh look. There’s another one coming.”

  Stay.

  “Mila...” The dog looked up at him with sad eyes as she panted through the pain, exhausted. “Is this the last?” He hoped so. She couldn’t go on just popping out puppies.

  He helped her birth yet another, the pup in the sac far smaller than its siblings. The runt. Unlucky number thirteen?

  Wiping away the membrane, Niklas could tell this one was in trouble. His brow furrowed as he released a long sigh. It probably wouldn’t make it.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” Panic tinged Sarah’s voice, and her hands stretched toward the latest addition.

  “He’s not breathing.”

  Her fingers trembling, she touched the puppy’s wet fur. “C—can’t you do artificial respiration? It c—can be done on dogs.”

  Niklas wrapped the male puppy in a small blanket and drew it close to his chest. Gazing down, he shook his head. “Not on this little one. He’s stillborn.”

  “Noooo.” Sarah’s gut-wrenching cry filled the room. “Dear God, no...”

  She took a deep breath through her tears. Calm down. It’s just a dog. It’s not him. But the mention of the word she’d avoided the past four years opened up a well that she had no idea how to shut. Valentine’s Day was his due date. Appropriate...for a love child. But there was no love when only one sanctioned the act. Instead of a new family and a happily-ever-after with the man who’d taken more than she’d been willing to give, Sarah was left with Andrew walking away seven months later when he was no longer bound by duty—that act more despicable than his first. And love turned to hate.

  Oh, he’d stuck around to bury their stillborn son with her—only for appearances sake. From the start, he’d never wanted the child. But Sarah could not go along with his desire to ‘get rid of it’.

  Snatching the dead puppy from Niklas’s arms, she fled outside. Into the night. And the cold. Unprotected. She almost slipped going down the stairs without her boots.

  “Sarah!” Niklas’s voice split the stillness.

  She turned to see him closing the gap, and pushed on harder through the deep snow until she could go no further. Her feet and body already feeling the effects of the sub-zero temperatures not made to be experienced without protective clothing, she fell into the snow. Defeated. And then his strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her.

  A picture of Jesus flashed through her mind. The shepherd, coming to the rescue of his lost sheep—saving its life.

  Still clutching the puppy tight, Sarah collapsed into Niklas’s embrace, sobs wracking her body. He carried her back inside and laid her down on the soft rug beside the fireplace, curling up behind her to provide more warmth. For them both.

  He lays me down in green pastures. He restores my soul.

  It felt safe there.

  If only the heat of the fire would dry up her tears.

  “Shh. It’s all right,” Niklas’s voice soothed.

  How could she tell him the truth?

  How could she not?

  Much as he wanted to jump into his father’s fictitious sleigh with its reindeer that flew across the world in seconds and steer them toward South Africa so he could beat the living daylights out of this Andrew Palmer, that wasn’t what Sarah needed from him right now.

  He took a deep breath then swallowed the bile rushing up his throat. “Never forgive? Those are strong words, Sarah.”

  She laid her head on his shoulder and stared into the fire, releasing a sigh that tattled of the burden she carried. “I know.” Her shoulders hitched then sagged. “It is what it is.”

  Niklas weaved his fingers between hers and squeezed her hand tight. He shook his head. “Don’t let him win, Sarah. Unforgiveness will only hold you captive—not him.”

  The tears tracing Sarah’s cheek glinted in the firelight. “It’s too late. I can’t change the way I feel.”

  Releasing her hand, he slid his arm around her and drew her to him. “Maybe you feel you can’t...but God can.”

  Pulling away, Sarah pressed her palms to her eyes and shook her head from side to side. “No. No.” She swiped at the tears as the fire drew her gaze once more. “Don’t you see? He’s ruined me...for life. I’ll never find my happily-ever-after. Who will ever love me knowing my story?”

  Niklas turned her face toward him. Leaning in close, he brushed his lips over her ear and whispered, “I will.” He breathed in deep. “I do.”

  “How is that possible?” Her stuttered words were barely audible.

  A smile tipped the corners of his mouth as he gazed into her eyes. “Because, Sarah Jones, you’re very lovable. To me, and to God. And both of us would like nothing more than to see you move past this atrocity—find healing and love.”

  She remained silent, searching his eyes.

  Say something, Sarah. Tell me you feel the same way about me.

  “I’d like that, too,” she finally said. “But...”

  He waited for her to continue. She didn’t. She merely stared back at the glowing coals. He’d give her time.

  Standing, Niklas grasped a log from the holder beside the fireplace. He removed the mesh screen and eased the piece of wood inside. Sparks scattered in all directions as it settled on the coals. Grabbing a second, he repeated the action, closing the mesh as soon as the log fell into place.

  Next he checked on Mila and the puppies. Still not another word from Sarah.

  Mommy and her litter were doing well, but he’d need to take her outside soon to relieve herself. Risto, too.

  Niklas crouched beside Sarah resisting the urge to kiss away her hurt. “Are you hungry?” The soup had been simmering for hours, but between the puppies’ births, and Sarah’s confession, there’d been no time for food.

  She shook her head.

  “Thirsty? Maybe a cup of hot chocolate?” Sarah loved chocolate, and the endorphins would do her good.

  Her lips drew a weak smile. “That would be nice.”

  Yes. Progress.

  “Niklas...”

  “Yes?”

  “W—when you said you love me, d—did you mean like a Christian love? Or something else?”


  Sweeping his hand through her hair, he drew her close and showed her exactly what he meant with his kiss.

  Finally surfacing, Sarah stared at Niklas, wrinkles on her brow and questions in her eyes. “Would you ever lie to me?”

  Please tell me you won’t. Haven’t. Sarah searched his eyes for the answer.

  Niklas diverted his gaze to the flames. “I—”

  Like a banshee weaving its way down the passage, a mournful howl echoed from the other side of the house. Frantic barking, and then scratching against Niklas’s bedroom door, followed.

  “Risto.” Niklas sprang to his feet. “I’m sorry. I need to let him out.”

  Sarah blotted up the remaining tears with her shirt sleeve and raised her gaze. She offered Niklas a weak smile. “You’d better, before he destroys your door.”

  “I think you’re right.” Niklas slid his feet into his boots as his body disappeared inside that red jacket he seemed to love so much. He grabbed a leash hanging beside the front door and headed down the passage, soon returning with Risto firmly in tow, the leash short and taut. The dog did its best to pull Niklas toward the whelping box. His master remained stronger, and the two headed outside into the cold.

  Sarah eased over to Mila and her pups. Leaning into the box, she stroked mommy first then her newborns, their fur soft and downy. What had come over her to react the way she had? To tell Niklas...everything?

  Yet, instead of rejecting her, he’d shown love. Even said he loved her. Could she say the same in return? She wanted to, but could she put herself at risk to love again? When the reality of her story sank in, would Niklas really still feel the same about her?

  Perhaps it was best that she’d return home to South Africa soon. Far, far away.

  Niklas and Risto blew back inside the cottage, along with the icy air that snuck in behind them. Instinctively, Sarah tucked the blankets higher around the puppies, making sure they were covered and snug. Some suckled their first milk from Mila—colostrum, rich in maternal antibodies, protection against infection. There’d been nothing to protect the runt, doomed from conception. One pup escaped the blanket covering it, burrowing into the one below in search of its mother’s warm body and an open teat. Turning her head, Mila guided the stray pup toward the source of food.

  “Whew, it’s warm in here.” Niklas shut the door behind him, still reigning Risto in close. “You don’t notice it until you step outside and then back in.”

  Sarah shrugged. “I guess so.”

  Passing Sarah, Niklas stooped to kiss her while Risto stretched his neck as far over the whelping box as he could. A low growl rumbled from Mila.

  “Think that’s our cue to go,” Niklas whispered as he kissed her cheek. “I’ll be back now. Just need to return Risto to the room.”

  Grasping his arm, Sarah gave him reason to pause. “Aren’t you going to let him say hello to his family properly?”

  Niklas shook his head.

  What? Visions of Andrew walking away from her filled Sarah’s mind.

  “It’s not good for the male to be around the litter for a few weeks. Soon as I can, I’ll have them back together again.” A low chuckle tumbled from his mouth. “The Bible says that it’s not good for a man to be alone.”

  “Really? So what about you?”

  His gaze bore into hers, one side of his mouth lifting in a lopsided smile. “Guess I’ll have to do something about that. Soon.”

  What did he mean? If only she could ask. There was something she could ask him, though. “Why don’t you let me keep Risto?” Sarah’s gaze flitted around the room. “There’s not that much space here to keep him and Mila apart.”

  A smile lit Niklas’s face. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. I’d love the company. If Santa doesn’t mind, that is.”

  A frown stole his smile. “Santa?”

  “Yes. These are his dogs, aren’t they?”

  He drew in a breath then blew it out. “They are.”

  “Do you think he’ll mind me kidnapping his dog for a while?”

  “No. He won’t mind at all.” Niklas tugged Risto away from the box. “As Risto’s already leashed, and I’m still dressed for outside, why don’t I run you home in my car? It’s late, and you look tired.”

  Sarah didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay here with him beside the fireplace, feel his arms around her. Especially tonight. But it wasn’t proper. She needed to go home.

  Chapter 11

  Sarah struggled to fall asleep. Finally she dozed off in the early hours of the morning waking with a start as her cell phone belted out the tune Matthew had set for the alarm. ‘Santa Claus is coming to town.’ He also proudly told Sarah that her new ringtone was ‘I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus’. She had yet to hear it. Neither Hannah, her parents, or friends would call her, the international charges exorbitant. Fortunately, Skype had provided another way to communicate, but she’d only done so once to Hannah since arriving in Lapland. She’d emailed her publisher and friends, only to let them know she’d be overseas for three weeks, ignoring their subsequent mails and questions.

  The phone silenced as she slid her finger across the screen, and then yanked the duvet over her head. Rolling onto her right side, Sarah turned her back on the world waiting below. Exhaustion clung to her. What a night. Puppies being born, baring her soul to Niklas, a new roommate... What had possessed her to set the alarm for seven-thirty today? Oh yes, writing deadline, and a dog that needed to be taken outside. Groan. Just a little longer in the warmth and comfort of her bed.

  She closed her eyes, savoring that good night kiss from Niklas once again. She could lie in bed all day with her thoughts.

  A sharp rap on the front door put an end to that idea. Risto let out a loud bark, and Sarah threw back the covers. Must be Niklas come to make the fire in her sauna. For that, she’d gladly leave behind the soft mattress, feathered duvet, and her daydreams. He was a little early, though.

  She pulled on her slipper socks and headed down the bunk-bed-style ladder.

  Risto guarded the door, his barking drowning the loud knocking that had started again.

  “I’m coming. Risto, shush.” Wrapping her fingers around his collar, Sarah pulled the retriever away from the door and moved him toward the couch. “Stay there.” She pointed at the dog before pivoting around.

  Unable to contain her smile, she yanked open the door. “Niklas, where’s the fire?”

  “Right here.” With a grin he slid his arms around her waist and eased her back inside the cabin, shutting the door with his foot. His mouth wasted no time finding hers.

  Finally he released her. “Good morning.”

  Oh-yes-it-is. “Morning,” she purred, snuggling her head into his chest.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  Sarah nodded. He didn’t have to know.

  “And Risto? Did he behave last night?”

  She leaned back, staring into his eyes. She could get used to looking at that shade of blue every morning. “He was a perfect gent. How are Mila and the puppies?”

  “Mom and pups are doing good.” His gaze deepened. “How are you? Last night was intense.”

  Intense didn’t begin to describe it. She’d done something she’d never done before—really opened up. Where would that vulnerability lead?

  “It was, but I’m OK now. You want some coffee?” She turned to go. More like escape. Not that she wanted to escape his arms, only the subject.

  Niklas tightened his hold and shook his head. Drawing her back to him, he smiled and tapped her nose lightly with his finger. “What I do want is for you to get dressed. Fast. I’ve a busy day planned for us.” He trailed his fingers down her hair. “Unless, of course, you need to spend the day indoors, writing.”

  She did. But she didn’t want to. It took all of two seconds for Sarah to decide that a day off was perfectly acceptable. Besides, it was Christmas Eve. So much for cooking him dinner. She still hadn’t shopped—her cupboards still resembled Old
Mother Hubbard’s.

  “No sauna for me this morning?” She loved starting these dark, icy days in the heat and isolation of that small wooden room.

  With a glint in his eyes, Niklas flashed a grin. “You’ll get one this morning, I promise. Except today you’ve got company. The fire’s already heating my sauna.”

  Sarah clamped the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth, relishing the thought of sharing this custom with Niklas. She held his gaze through lowered lashes. “Really?”

  “Really. Quick, grab your swimsuit and get those legs of yours into a pair of snow pants so we can get going.”

  “B—but what about breakfast?” She was starving. They never did get around to eating last night.

  “Don’t worry about food. I’ve got that covered.”

  “My, aren’t you full of surprises today?”

  “You haven’t seen anything yet, Pupu.”

  “Poo-poo?” Sarah chuckled. “Niklas Toivonen, are you talking dirty?”

  His eyes widened. “Never. I respect you far too much. Pupu is... It’s like a love word. Like saying sweetheart, or darling, I guess.”

  “Oh.” The word squeaked from Sarah’s mouth. Not at all what she thought he’d said. She cleared her throat. “Direct translation?”

  “Bunny.”

  Cute. Eyes fixed on his, Sarah drew in a slow breath. It did not help to still her racing heart. He’d progressed to terms of endearment. She liked that. A lot.

  “Give me five minutes to change.”

  Niklas nodded. “I’ll take Risto out in the meantime.”

  Sarah headed toward the cupboard for clothes as Niklas opened the door. Risto squeezed past him through the gap and dashed off into the dark blue dawn. Poor thing must’ve been desperate to go. Like her. “Better make that ten. As you can see, I only crawled out of bed at your knock.”

  Using the sauna to get dressed, Sarah tapped a little water out of the heater into a bowl. Cold. This would hurt. Wetting her facecloth, she squeezed out the icy water then gave her face a quick wipe. Teeth next. Never before had her toothbrush worked this fast. She slipped into her favorite jeans and a soft red sweater—nothing like cashmere—finishing off the outfit with a thin red and white scarf to match her snow boots. And Christmas.

 

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