Christmas with Her Lost-and-Found Lover

by Ann Mcintosh

  She followed his lead, turning to open the fridge, pretending casualness and a deep interest in picking out sausages and eggs. “As soon as I’m finished here, I have to run out to the supermarket, since I need baking supplies, as well as groceries. I’m planning to make all of Jeevan’s favorite treats later this morning. Do you think the raven might want to eat? We could try it with an egg.”

  “Not right now,” Rohan replied. “I don’t think it’s recovered enough for food just yet. And they’ll have mealworms at the rescue, which might be better for it at this point.”

  He walked to the window and stood looking out, rubbing his cheek.

  Then he turned back toward her and said, “While you’re out shopping, I’ll run the raven over to Cochrane, and then go up to Trail’s End for a bit. I thought I’d give them a hand, since Janice has more than enough on her plate.”

  “Okay,” she replied, thinking he sounded glad to be getting away. Almost relieved. “By the way, would you like to come to the SAR fundraiser tomorrow night? It’s usually a lot of fun. There are silent auctions, and the dinner is catered by a really great company. You could ask Tom about Phoebe then, too.”

  “What’s the dress code? I didn’t bring anything but jeans when I came up here.”

  There it was again, that flatness in his tone, as though he were simply being polite, and not totally engaged in the conversation.

  “It’s dressier than that. You’d definitely feel out of place in jeans. Most of the men wear suits, or sports coats at least.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll buy something. It’s been a while since I bought a new suit, and I know it won’t go to waste.”

  “We can go into town later,” she said as she turned on the stove. With everything else going on, she had yet to make out her shopping list. “I need to buy a few gifts.”

  He walked back to the cage and bent to look at the raven.

  Without glancing at her, he said, “I was thinking... I want to get a gift for Jeevan, but I don’t want him to think I’m trying to buy his affection, or anything like that. Will you give me some advice on what he might like?”

  “Sure,” she said lightly. Despite the hurt caused by his renewed coldness, her heart melted at the thought he was putting into how to treat his son. “We’ll go out this evening and take a look around the shops. You can get your suit, too, then.”

  “Excellent,” he said.

  But although the conversation sounded normal, even friendly, she saw the way all expression had fallen from his face, and felt the distance between them widening.

  And telling herself not to be stupid about it didn’t ease the pain.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  AFTER DROPPING THE raven off in Cochrane, Rohan spent the rest of the morning at Trail’s End, checking on the huskies and talking to some of the dogsledders who’d arrived earlier. It wasn’t a sport he’d ever been interested in, but speaking to the racers, he found himself intrigued.

  When he asked about the chances of Phoebe training as a search and rescue dog, they looked a little skeptical.

  “If she were trained from when she was a pup, then maybe, but huskies tend to have high prey drives, and that could be a distraction,” one member named Ron said.

  “And some are stubborn,” his son, Tyler, added. “They don’t always obey commands the first time around, and that’s imperative in any type of emergency situation.”

  “She was part of a hoarding situation, and I estimate her to already be over a year old,” Rohan replied, somewhat disappointed.

  “Well, there was that one guy, in Denmark I think, who was training his dog for SAR, remember, Dad? He was on one of the husky forums, sharing videos and talking about it.”

  Ron glanced back at Tyler and nodded.

  “Yeah, I remember that, but he’d started training him from the time he got him at eight weeks old. It’ll probably be very different with an older animal.”

  “Especially one who only just got a name,” Rohan added. “She still doesn’t even know it yet. She’s smart, though. Where she is now, she’s hanging out with a golden retriever, and she follows his cues.”

  “You should put together a sled team,” the father said, but he chuckled as he said it, and Rohan joined in. “And if you’re around in the next few days, I’ll take you for a ride and teach you a little about the sport.”

  “Dad, it’s Christmas. Dr. Khan’s probably spending it with his family. Not everyone’s as obsessed as we are.”

  Rohan was about to say, no, he had no one to spend the holidays with, then it struck him that he actually did.

  The reality of it, the sweetness, sank in, making him smile.

  “Yes, I’ll be pretty busy with family, but maybe when my son comes home, I can bring him with me, if you’re still here.”

  Just saying the words started a warm, silly glow in his chest, and he was grinning like an idiot as he excused himself to answer his phone.

  It was Elise.

  “Hi, I’m just about to make myself some lunch and wondered if you wanted anything.”

  There it was again, that feeling of hominess. Of domesticity.

  Of rightness.

  “I’d love some lunch,” he replied, hearing the smile in his own voice.

  “Oh,” she said, as though surprised. “Well, it’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”

  “I’ll leave here in a short time.”

  After they hung up, he said goodbye to the sled team and headed for his vehicle.

  He knew why Elise had sounded so surprised at his upbeat tone. When he’d left that morning, he’d been curt and distant.

  Elise had talked about the night before with such calm it was infuriating. She’d made it sound as if he was a dress she’d found at the back of her closet and, remembering how much she’d once liked it, wore it one last time, for old times’ sake.

  Fooling around.

  Hearing her classify what they’d shared that way was like having ice water thrown in his face.

  While she was perfectly sanguine about it, making love to Elise had opened a floodgate inside him, swamping him emotionally and mentally. Ratchetting the tension inside him tighter and tighter.

  Yet she’d been right about the need to think only of Jeevan at this point, and putting much-needed distance between himself and Elise was the wisest thing to do. He had to think of her only as Jeevan’s mother and nothing else, no matter how hard that was turning out to do.

  The walls around his emotions had taken years to build, and seemingly had fallen in just one day, battered down by a woman he didn’t remember, and a son he never knew he had.

  During the night, while he looked at the photos, he’d found himself desperately searching for any memory, any hint of Elise, of the connection they’d shared. It was as though his brain insisted that before he could move forward, he had to remember the past.

  Not hear about it. Not dissect it, as if it were something outside of himself, but actually remember.

  The compulsion to search, to keep trying, was driving him crazy, and being around Elise amplified the feeling.

  How could he have loved her, made a baby with her, set out to alienate his family for her, and have no recollection of any of it?

  How could she elicit so many feelings in him, and be, in every sense of the word, a stranger?

  But when he’d realized he actually had family—one of his own—to spend the holidays with, there was no separation in his mind between her and Jeevan. They were to him a package deal, and he could see no way around it.

  And although the thought was terrifying, it also filled him with satisfaction.

  That was a dichotomy he wasn’t willing to examine. While the sensible part of his mind tried to remind him of the need to be on guard against getting too involved with Elise, other parts of him were saying it was already too late.


  When he got back to Elise’s place, she was at the stove, making grilled cheese sandwiches. He inhaled the delicious scent of baked goods and eyed with interest the results lined up on the counter to cool.

  “I got so caught up in the baking I almost forgot about lunch,” she said. “I hope this is okay.”

  “You could just feed me some of those butter tarts instead,” he replied, wanting to keep the conversation light. Spending the morning obsessively going over everything that had happened had been mentally exhausting, and he didn’t think he could deal with any more serious conversations.

  She sent him a look over her shoulder.

  “So you still have a sweet tooth, eh?”

  “Definitely,” he replied, going to the sink to wash his hands as Baxter and Phoebe wound around his ankles, looking for his attention. He gave them both pets and rubs before squirting soap into his hand. “I think those look terrible, and I should try one of each to make sure they taste okay, before Jeevan has any.”

  That made her laugh and, when they sat down to eat, it was in a far less weighty atmosphere than the one in which they’d had breakfast.

  As they ate, he told her about the conversation he’d had with the dogsled team members, and she told him about her phone call to the hospital.

  “Ben’s out of the ICU, and in a room, but they’re still restricting visitors for the time being.”

  “Is that normal?” he asked, concerned for the young man’s well-being.

  She shrugged. “It depends. That could be on doctor’s orders, or it could be a family request. If it’s the former, they could be just particularly worried about infection, or keeping him undisturbed. He’s listed as stable, and being out of ICU makes me a little less worried about his prognosis.”

  “Before we leave to go shopping, we should check and see if he can have visitors yet.”

  She nodded. “Sure. I thought we could leave around three, which will give me a chance to finish up what I need to do here.”

  “So what can I do to help?”

  “Untangle the lights for the tree,” she said without hesitation. “They’re a mess, and I lose patience with them. Every year I promise myself I’ll put them away properly, and every year I end up just tossing them in the storage bin.”

  “Sure,” he replied, glad to have something to do. “Should I put them on the tree, as well?”

  “That would be amazing. I usually get Jeevan to do it, and then we put the ornaments on together. I thought we could take the boxes out this evening, and if he doesn’t make it home tomorrow, you and I can decorate it so it’s done when he gets in.”

  There she went again, making him feel as though this was all normal and he was an integral part of her life—and Jeevan’s. Feeling ridiculously pleased, even as he reminded himself not to, he excused himself from the table and, after she said she’d wash their plates, took himself off to do battle with the lights.

  * * *

  Elise set about prepping for the Christmas Day meal, one ear open in case Rohan needed any help, but besides the occasional soft curse, he seemed to be handling the chore without too much fuss.

  She shook her head, still trying to adapt to having him around, her wild swings in mood and attitude not helping.

  Yesterday morning she’d been filled with rage when she realized he was still alive. That had morphed to sympathy and sadness when she realized the pain his accident had put him through. Traumatic brain injuries often left people floundering to figure out the world again, since the changes they wrought could manifest in a myriad of ways. Alterations in personality and loss of cognitive or physical function, along with long-term issues with fatigue and sensory overload could make patients and their families struggle to cope.

  From what she remembered him telling her about his family, and what she’d found out over the past two days, Elise suspected Rohan hadn’t had the support and understanding he needed. Yet he’d recovered and moved on with his life so well, and that filled her with admiration.

  She didn’t find herself grieving anymore for the man he’d been. Instead—far more dangerously—she was beginning to truly like and respect the man he was now.

  As well as desire him.

  So although she’d achieved her goal of putting a stop to any further amorous encounters with Rohan, it was a hollow victory. Sleeping with him hadn’t extinguished her desire, only heightened it.

  “Hey,” he called from the other room. “Do you think Jeevan would be interested in going dogsledding? The team up at Trail’s End invited me to come up and try it out, and when I said I’d be with family, they said I could come up after Christmas, and bring other people with me.”

  “He might,” she said, tamping down a rush of unreasonable annoyance at being excluded. “He’s pretty adventurous.”

  “Like his mother. Would you like to come, too?”

  “Perhaps,” she said, now exasperated with her own contrariness. Not two seconds ago she was fussing about being left out, and then, in the next moment, she was hiding behind a noncommittal response.

  Of course, she wanted to go. Not because she was terribly interested in dogsledding, although it would be fun, but because she really wanted to spend more time with Rohan.

  This new, enigmatic Rohan, who seemed set to steal her heart all over again, once more against her will. However, whereas before she’d been afraid of love and abandonment, now she feared the effect on her son, and on Rohan. She never wanted him to think he had to be with her just so as to be able to see his son on a regular basis.

  How was she going to manage being around him for the rest of the holidays? Even with Jeevan in attendance, it was going to take everything she had to stay sane and detached.

  “Is Jeevan into sports?”

  Rohan’s question pulled her out of her own thoughts and made her realize she’d been operating on autopilot, instead of concentrating on what she was doing.

  “Watching them or playing?” she called back.

  “Either.”

  She heard the hunger behind the words, the need to start understanding his child, years and years later than he should have done. The pathos of it made her have to stop and catch her breath before she could reply.

  “He’s pretty athletic, so yes to both, really. He played hockey up until high school, and was pretty good. Used to skateboard and snowboard and, of course, ski. Oh, and he’s a mean tennis player. I had to stop playing with him by the time he was in his midteens. It was getting embarrassing.”

  His soft laughter warmed her aching heart, and she wished she could see Rohan’s face so she could know what he was thinking.

  She waited for more questions as she worked, but he went silent, leaving her far too much time to think.

  On a whim, she’d taken out the album she had of the two of them together, while he was out earlier. She didn’t know what she was looking for, or hoped to find, but when she opened the cover tears prickled the backs of her eyes.

  The love was there in every picture, every glance, each touch of one body against the next, whether just in the clasping of hands or an arm wrapped tightly around a waist.

  On the final page in the album, she found the last picture she had of them together, taken in Toronto on the day before he left to go back to Trinidad. He’d taken her camera and asked a passer-by to take the shot as they stood outside the airport.

  “You’ll wait for me?”

  He’d asked her that question at least twice before he left. While she’d said yes, she’d seen the skepticism in his eyes. She’d made no bones about not believing in love everlasting, but he’d sworn to make her change her mind, even if it took a lifetime.

  And he had changed her mind, although not in the way he’d thought. From the first moment she held their son in her arms, she’d understood what it meant to know love that would never falter. Never die.r />
  Of course, she hadn’t waited for him for twenty-seven years. But looking at the pictures, she thought perhaps she’d been looking for someone who could make her feel the way he had and had never found that.

  He wasn’t the same, but she’d so easily stopped looking for signs of the old Rohan and just accepted the new, seeing the essence of the man she’d loved just beneath the cool veneer.

  The twenty-seven-year-old Rohan had been supremely self-confident, or at least had given that impression. But she’d seen wariness in his eyes last night when she’d taken off his shirt, revealing the heartrending signs of what he’d been through. Had the accident knocked some of that bravado away, leaving him vulnerable in ways she’d never seen him be in the past?

  How else had it changed him, deep inside?

  And with all he’d been through the last day and a half, how was he truly coping?

  She knew what the long-term effects of traumatic brain injuries could be. What emotional toll had yesterday’s events taken on Rohan? Had what she seen as cold stoicism been a defense mechanism against feelings he didn’t know how to handle or his brain wouldn’t let him process properly?

  If that were the case, was there anything she could do about it?

  Or would he resent her for even trying?

  “Hey, Elise,” he called from the other room. “Do you have a knife, or a hand grenade?”

  Laughter burst from her throat before she could stop it, and glad to have the tension ratcheting inside relieved, she grabbed a towel to wipe her hands, and headed into the living room.

  “Don’t go blowing up the house, Rohan.”

  “Well, it seems like a good option,” he said, looking up as she entered the room. “Or I could buy new lights so I don’t lose what’s left of my mind trying to untangle this mess.”

  Her heart did a flip as her gaze met his laughing one, and it took all her power to not bend and kiss his smiling lips.

  So instead, she frowned ferociously and plopped down beside him, holding out her hand.