Christmas with Her Lost-and-Found Lover

by Ann Mcintosh

  Brenna scrunched her forehead and then said, “We played in the snow and petted the aminals. There was a donkey and some goats and a bunny like mine.” She held up the object in question. “But the bunny was white, not pink.”

  “The George’s Inn, out by Chester Road, has an indoor petting zoo,” the policeman said quietly. “I’ve taken my kids out there a time or two.”

  Elise nodded. She’d come to the same conclusion, too, when Brenna spoke. She got up and touched the little girl’s hair. “I’ll get them to try there. Thank you, Brenna.”

  But even while she was giving instructions for someone to call the inn, it was the image of Rohan reading to Brenna and the beauty of his smile that stuck in Elise’s mind.

  The smile, in particular, had thrown her system into overdrive. There was something different about it, but she couldn’t put her finger on what the difference had been.

  All she knew was that it had set her senses on fire and made the wanting she’d been fighting all day almost impossible to subdue.

  But they’d agreed that Jeevan had to come first, and their relationship, whatever it became, was far lower on the list of priorities. Some might say Jeevan was a grown man and should be able to handle anything that came along, but Elise refused to put him in a position to have to choose between his parents.

  He was, and had to continue to be, her first consideration.

  Nothing else could be allowed to matter.

  Not Rohan, who increasingly took up more of her headspace than was wise and had the ability to turn her inside out with a look, a word, a shared confidence.

  And not her own selfish desires.

  “I found him, Dr. van Hagan.” The NA put down the phone. “Mrs. Pilar’s husband is on his way here.”

  “Excellent,” she said, gathering up her chart and heading back to the cubicle to check on the patient. “Please call upstairs and ask for an ETA for the neurosurgeon.”

  But she couldn’t resist one more glance into the waiting room, and could only smile, heart melting, at the sight of Rohan holding the shocking pink bunny and pretending it was reading.

  And once more she experienced a wave of anger as she realized all she and Jeevan had lost, the day Rohan went back to Trinidad.

  But that was dangerous, too, she knew, because there was no way to go back and change the past, and to hanker for something that never was, and never could be, was unhealthy.

  Best to be thankful for the present and not wish for anything more than what she already had.

  With that bracing yet somehow depressing thought, she hurried back to her patient.

  * * *

  By the time Elise handed off Mrs. Pilar to the incoming doctor and neurosurgeon, Brenna’s father had arrived, and Rohan was released from his babysitting job.

  Brenna hugged him tight as her father thanked him, over and over, and Rohan just said it was fine.

  The truth was, though, interacting with Brenna had been a joy, not a chore, and had made him happy and sad in turns. It had made him think that perhaps he might have been a decent father to a child that age, although he completely understood spending a couple of hours with her wasn’t really a good indication.

  He was still on a high from being confused for Jeevan at the hospital, too. Although to anyone else it might seem silly, for him it was a true turning point. Yet part of him hesitated to share the moment with Elise, wanting to hug it to himself a little longer.

  As he and Elise walked to the pickup, she said, “Thanks for sitting with Brenna.” Her smile just increased his sense of well-being. “She must have been so scared.”

  “She was, and the police officer was doing his best to console her, but it wasn’t working.”

  They got into her truck and were fastening their seat belts. Elise’s smile softened into something so sweet, so glorious he couldn’t help staring. Staring and wanting.

  He wanted to kiss it off her lips, feel her mouth go from smiling to passion-filled.

  Dragging his eyes away from her face, he fumbled with the buckle, getting it latched just as she put the vehicle into gear.

  “The bunny and book were masterstrokes. Which female can resist something soft and fuzzy, and having two men cater to her?”

  He tried to laugh, but it was a rusty sound, roughened by his lust for the woman beside him.

  Stop it. Behave. That’s not what any of this is about.

  But the self-chastisement did nothing to tamp down his desire. Only the habits and control of years kept his hands unmoving on his lap, and his mind firmly on the conversation.

  “Will her mother be okay?”

  “I can’t discuss the specifics with you, but I think in time she will.”

  She sounded grim, and he wondered what had happened.

  “Can you at least tell me if it were a substance abuse issue or physical disease?”

  She sent him a sidelong look, then sighed. “Disease.”

  Probably neurological then, or perhaps a diabetic episode. Whatever it was, Rohan was glad that sweet little girl’s mother hadn’t been drunk or on drugs.

  “Home now, I think, to get something to eat,” she said. “I’m getting hungry again.”

  “Why don’t we get some dinner here in Banff?” She’d been busy all day, and he didn’t like the thought of her going home and having to cook.

  “It might be hard to find somewhere that isn’t full, although... There’s one place that might find us a table.”

  He wondered at her hesitation but realized the source when they got to the small restaurant, which was full, and the hostess came out from behind her podium.

  “Dr. van Hagan, welcome! It’s been ages. Dad will be so happy to see you.”

  She immediately led them to a secluded table, chattering away about her family. Not long after she left to get their drinks, a gentleman in a chef’s uniform came out of the kitchen and made a beeline for them.

  “Dr. Elise.” When she got up to greet him, she was enveloped in a huge hug. “This lady saved my son’s life,” he said, loud enough for some nearby patrons to hear.

  Elise blushed and tried to downplay it.

  “It was a team effort, Mr. Kitterly.”

  But he was having none of it.

  “If you weren’t there, on the slopes where you found him, he wouldn’t have made it. The surgeons told me so.”

  By the time he left to go back to the kitchen, Elise was beet red.

  “His son was an excellent skier,” she said, grabbing her menu and not meeting Rohan’s gaze. “Was a world-class athlete before his accident. It’s such a shame.”

  “You did a lot of good in SAR. Why are you embarrassed when people acknowledge that?”

  “I didn’t do it for the accolades,” she said, adding a little huff for good measure.

  “Why did you do it?” he asked, keeping his voice gentle.

  She sighed and put down the menu. “It was actually all I ever wanted to do, from the time I was a little girl and saw a documentary about a SAR team. But like I said, my mom talked me out of it because she didn’t think I could make a living if that was all I did.”

  Rohan considered that for a moment, waiting until a waiter had brought their drinks and left again. Then he said, “It’s a shame you decided to give it up. I know your capabilities, firsthand, even after you’ve been away from it for a year.”

  He saw the anguish in her eyes as she leaned forward to say, “But even yesterday, I froze. That can’t happen during a rescue.”

  “But it did,” he said, mildly. “Then you unfroze and continued on, rescuing a young man who might have died if you hadn’t acted as decisively as you did, and saving a dog’s life, too. Even though you must have been terrified, you got the job done.”

  She stared at him, eyes wide and luminous, and his breath caught in his throat at he
r beauty.

  When he could speak again, he said, “I think it was Nelson Mandela who said, ‘Courage is not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it.’ You’ve triumphed, and I think you would again, if you wanted to.”

  “Like you did,” she said, taking him off guard at the swift change of subject.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I heard what you told Janice this evening, and I remember the things you said about your family when we were young. I can only assume you didn’t get the support and understanding you needed after your accident. Not everyone would be able to thrive the way you have, after going through all that.”

  “Thrive?” He would laugh, but the bitterness surrounding the subject made it stick in his throat. “I don’t know that what I’ve been doing over the last few years could be categorized that way.”

  Just then the waiter came back, and they ordered, Rohan choosing quickly, since he’d hardly looked at the menu. He was hoping once the young man was gone, Elise would change the subject, but she went right back to their prior discussion.

  “You don’t consider being a partner in a business, doing what you’ve always loved, as thriving?”

  “Maybe on a materialistic level,” he said, even as he wondered why he was compelled to speak so frankly about it. “But socially, I’ve distanced myself. My coping mechanisms aren’t very...friendly. When I’m having a hard time, I retreat. Hide in my head. It destroyed my marriage, because Suvarna couldn’t deal with it.”

  She nodded, the sympathy in her eyes almost more than he could stand. He never talked about it, but somehow he wanted—needed—her to understand.

  “I would have liked to give her what she wished for, but my remoteness, the wall between me and the world, which included her, was just too large. I couldn’t connect emotionally, and the harder she pushed the further I stepped back. If I feel as though things are out of my control, or if I’m stressed, I back all the way up until I can regroup.”

  “I’ve noticed that. But at the same time, you pull yourself out of it and start communicating when you’re ready.” She smiled slightly, her gaze warm on his. “That’s the important part, isn’t it?”

  “Is it?” he rebutted, his chest aching. “I want to connect with my son, not shut him out if he asks the hard questions.”

  “Just...be you,” she answered quickly. “He isn’t a child without any experience of the world. Don’t pretend to be anything you’re not comfortable with, and he’ll accept you as you are.”

  “How do you know that?” he asked, with fierce swiftness. “How can you know how he’ll react?”

  She took a deep breath.

  “Because he already loves you, even though he thinks you’re deceased. I raised him to. I wanted him to know who his father was, and what a good man he was. Jeevan will accept that you’re older, maybe a little sterner than I described you. But from his perspective, the emotion is already implanted. All you have to do is accept it.”

  Rohan froze, his fingers clenched so fiercely together they began to ache. Elise put her hand over his, and the warmth that flowed between them made his chest tighten with a mixture of pleasure and pain.

  “How could I have forgotten you, Elise? Loved you and then wiped the memory from existence?”

  He hadn’t meant to ask, but the words were out before he could stop them. She shrugged, and although there was a hint of sorrow in her eyes, she looked serene, at peace.

  “That wasn’t your fault, Rohan. The brain is a complex organ, and no matter how hard you try, once the damage is done, it’s rare it can ever be reversed. Just...put that aside as something we have to accept and move forward from.”

  “We?” He shot the question at her, not angrily but in surprise.

  “Yes, we. Don’t you think I’ve been struggling to deal with that, too? It hurts, deep down, that you didn’t know me, have no recollection of the time we spent together. But I know it wasn’t willful on your part, that it was a side effect of an event that still haunts you, and I’m coming to terms with it. You’ve had longer to accept it, but I get the feeling you never have.”

  He looked away, letting his gaze roam the room, seeking some modicum of calm before facing her again.

  “I avoided thinking about it, for a long time. When the internet became more accessible, I was still trying to figure out where I was, and what I was doing during those lost months. I contacted old schoolmates, friends I hadn’t seen in years, and asked them if they knew. When no one seemed able to give me an answer, I think I decided I’d never know.”

  He paused, shook his head. “But the hole—the gap—in my memory banks was a constant ache, one I’ve never been able to soothe. And now it hurts even more, because I know if I could find the piece of my memory that’s missing, it would have you in it. You, and your love, and the joy we shared together.”

  Now it was she who looked down, as though hiding. It popped into his head to say that perhaps they could find that love and joy again, but he bit the words back, frightened by the impulse.

  Hearing her admit she was struggling with his amnesia, too, somehow made his own fight a little more bearable, and the whole situation sadder.

  While he was oblivious to the emotional nuances, she would remember everything. All the little gestures, the inside jokes, the patterns they’d formed together. After all these years he knew she didn’t still love him the way she had. To think she might would be ludicrous. Yet no doubt some of the old emotions would linger, causing her additional hurt.

  And causing her to make love with him, as she had the night before.

  But he couldn’t afford to think about that, since she’d made it clear a repeat wasn’t in the cards.

  So he was relieved when the waiter approached with their food and put an end to the conversation.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  WHEN THEY LEFT the restaurant, they were both quiet, lost in their own thoughts, and Elise decided not to pursue any deep conversation again.

  She felt raw, ragged around the edges, and unable to cope.

  It had become clear to her as they spoke that she was falling for Rohan again, and she didn’t know what to do. What she really wanted was time to think, but with Jeevan hopefully on his way home and Rohan staying at her house, there really wasn’t any. Not the kind of solid alone time she needed.

  When they got to the house, it was too early to go to sleep, so she said, “Want to play some cribbage?”

  He smiled, but it was just a tiny upturn of his lips. “I haven’t played in years, but sure.”

  Playing cards was definitely preferable to getting back to their discussion.

  She lit the fire, and they set up the cribbage board on the hearth rug. Rohan seemed lost in thought, and because he wasn’t concentrating, she beat him around the board the first time, and when he called for a rematch, she beat him again.

  The nice thing was that as they played, they talked. Not about heavy subjects like amnesia or surprise parenthood, but about their lives and jobs, where they’d worked, and how they’d ended up where they were.

  “I would have pegged you more for a Toronto type of guy,” she said, being honest. “You used to love the city.”

  He shrugged. “I started out there when I first moved back, but just found myself drifting farther and farther west. When I got to Calgary, it felt good, so that’s where I’ve been for about eight years.”

  “I moved here from there about twelve years ago, when my sister and her husband went to Vancouver. I wanted to try my hand at search and rescue, and this was a great place to volunteer.”

  Simple, easy conversation, but the entire time she was so aware of his every move, gesture and breath. There was something compelling about him that she found almost irresistible.

  Before they started a third match, she went into the kitchen and came back with a plate of Christmas treats.


  “Oh,” he all but groaned with delight. “Those look delicious.”

  She grinned. “Just a few lemon squares, Nanaimo bars and butter tarts to tempt you.”

  He took a bite of a butter tart and closed his eyes as though in ecstasy.

  After he swallowed, he said, “I just remembered, someone at the hospital mistook me for Jeevan from behind.”

  Elise watched his expression and asked, “What did you do?”

  He shrugged as his hand hovered over the plate, while he decided between a lemon square and a Nanaimo bar.

  “Told her she was mistaken. But I have to admit, it brought everything home to me in a way just talking about him hadn’t.”

  She didn’t want to go back to serious conversation, she was having way too much fun just chatting and laughing with Rohan. It was, in many ways, just like the old days, although she didn’t want to tell him that, in case the reminder of his amnesia caused a resurgence of his stress.

  But there was something bothering her, and she vacillated between saying something and letting it lie. He’d spoken with such sadness about his experiences with his family after the accident, and she remembered how upset he’d been when he discovered how his father and Chandi had acted.

  That kind of anger ate away at you, and she hated the thought of him carrying it in his heart.

  As they finished the third cribbage match, she said, “Are you still angry about what happened all those years ago?”

  “How can you ask me that?” He gave her a fierce glare. “Of course I am.”

  She held his gaze, feeling his pain and sympathizing.

  “I think,” she said slowly, “you should forgive your family.”

  The look he gave her could have felled an oak, but she didn’t look away, refusing to back down.

  “What they did was unforgivable.”

  He said it with such finality she almost gave up. But at the same time, she knew she couldn’t.

  “True,” she agreed. “Do it anyway. For your sake and Jeevan’s. Don’t you think he’s going to want to meet your side of his family at some point?”