Christmas music played low in the background of the unit, and it was still—unsurprisingly—as busy as ever. Lots of kids were coming in with viruses, chest infections, and there was one case of chicken pox. She diagnosed a broken arm, a broken wrist, and referred one little boy for an endoscopy because he’d swallowed a coin that was now stuck in his oesophagus. She saw a bad case of nappy rash, consulted with an ophthalmologist because someone had scratched an eyeball on a thorny bush, and admitted one of her young patients she suspected had pneumonia.
She didn’t like having to admit children at Christmas, but sometimes it was impossible not to, and she knew the hospital would do its very best to make the kids who were there enjoy the special day.
She was halfway through her shift when she received a call to her mobile phone, and she answered it after scurrying away to a private corner.
‘Hello?’
‘Dr Bell? It’s Kari, from Viktorssons?’
Suddenly it came to her. ‘The solicitors? Right!’
‘I just wanted to let you know that we have the initial paperwork for you, as you requested, if you’d like to collect it?’
‘Really? Oh, that’s fabulous! Thank you. Unfortunately, I’m at work now, till late.’
‘At the hospital?’
‘Yes.’
‘I can drop it in for you at Reception on my way home—it wouldn’t be any trouble.’
‘Kari, you’ve been an absolute lifesaver! Thank you for doing this. I know it was late notice, but I appreciate it.’
‘No problem! Happy Christmas, Dr Bell.’
‘You too, Kari.’
She ended the call and bit her lip with excitement, hoping that Kristjan would love what she had done. It had felt right. And, even if things didn’t work out between them, it was still a good thing to do.
‘Who are you talking to?’
She turned at the sound of Kristjan’s voice. He was right behind her.
‘No one.’
‘All right...’
She could see he didn’t believe her. Had he heard who she’d been speaking to?
‘I’m finishing now. Heading home. Do you need me to pick anything up?’ he asked.
‘No, I think I got everything this morning. You could check on the lamb for me. It’s in the slow cooker.’
‘Will do. What time do you finish?’
‘Six.’
‘I’ll have everything ready for then.’
She smiled. ‘I’m meant to be getting it ready for you.’
‘That’s okay. Are we going to the big carol concert at Wonderland later? It starts at nine. The Elf Foundation are singing a couple of songs... I said we’d try to show support if we were free.’
‘I’d love to.’
And she meant it. Even though she would have hated the idea of it when she’d first arrived here.
‘Great. See you later.’ And he leaned forward to kiss her.
One of the male nurses wolf-whistled the pair of them and Merry blushed red. Most of the staff here knew the situation between her and Kristjan and she’d made some very good friends here.
It would be a good place to settle down.
* * *
When he got home, Kristjan felt his stomach rumble in anticipation at the aroma when he walked through the front door. Everything was going perfectly. He and Merry were getting on great, and when he’d told her about the mountain pass, she hadn’t said a single thing about leaving. That had to be good news, right?
In the kitchen, he got out the steamer and put on some of the vegetables, then made himself a coffee and went into the living room to have a five-minute sit-down.
He saw the local paper on the table and began to browse through it, reading about a court case that was ongoing in Reykjavik and a local dog-sledding endurance race that someone was undertaking to raise money for a brain cancer charity. He went from one story to the next, ignoring the television pages and the financial pages, and was about to close the paper again when he noticed that a couple of properties—local apartments for sale—had been circled.
He sat forward, reading intently.
Apartment for sale, leasehold
Two bedrooms, unfurnished
Parking space and small cellar.
Merry was looking for property? That was great news, wasn’t it?
It meant she was planning on staying. It meant that she saw a future for them as a family. That must have been why he’d heard her on the phone with a solicitor!
And it was then that he was suddenly hit with an overwhelming sense of responsibility to get this right that he almost couldn’t catch his breath.
How much would it take for him to show that he was able to do this, to be the man they both needed? To be this honoured, to be trusted by her like this, was...unbelievable. All this time she had been alone in the world and now...
Could he do it? Was he capable of opening up his heart and letting them both in so much he wouldn’t know where he ended and they began? If he was going to care for them the way they needed he would have to take action and show them just how committed he was. Prove it to them.
Kristjan got up and went into his bedroom to change.
If Merry could do this and be brave after all she’d been through, then so could he.
* * *
Kristjan had lit the candles on the table she’d prepared earlier in the day before going to work. Nat King Cole was playing from the speakers and she emerged to find him pouring some non-alcoholic wine into two glasses.
‘To us!’ he toasted.
She smiled. ‘To us.’ And she took a sip, wincing at the tang of the drink. ‘Is this battery acid?’
‘I hope not. I’d hate to need surgery to repair my stomach lining the day before Christmas.’
‘I’ll stick to fruit juice, I think.’
She went to the kitchen to pour herself an orange juice and dish up the food into serving bowls for the table. She was looking forward to it. She’d never had ptarmigan before, but assumed it would taste like any game bird. She hoped she could stomach at least a bite of it, not being very keen on meat at the moment.
‘I picked you up some noodle soup and a chickpea and vegetable pot pie if you can’t stomach the meat,’ he said.
‘Oh, that’s very thoughtful of you. Thanks.’
‘No problem. Shall we get started?’
She nodded and smiled as he pulled out her chair for her, and when she was seated comfortably he draped a red cloth napkin over her lap before kissing her on the lips.
‘Happy Christmas, Merry.’
‘Happy Christmas.’
They clinked glasses once again and, not knowing what to do, she was relieved when Kristjan took the lids off the bowls.
‘Shall I serve?’ he asked.
‘Please.’
He served her a selection of everything and she was determined to try it all. She wasn’t keen on the lamb or the ham and though she tried the ptarmigan it wasn’t for her—not in her current condition, anyway—so she was relieved to have the alternatives he had so kindly provided.
They took their time over the meal, chatting about the medical cases they’d had in the past, and then Kristjan changed the topic of conversation.
‘Tell me about your best Christmas.’
‘My best one? I think it might be this one,’ she said, feeling shy about admitting it.
‘Really?’ He seemed pleased. ‘Didn’t you get married at Christmas?’
‘A few years ago today. Yes.’
‘And that wasn’t a good Christmas? Before it all went wrong?’
She shook her head. ‘No. But I don’t want to think about that time in my life. I’ve moved on. Everything’s changed.’
‘For the better?’
‘I hope so.’
�
��So do I. In fact...’ He got up from his seat at the table and came over to her, kneeling at her side as he took her hand in his.
What was he doing?
He looked as if he was going down on one knee, and men only tended to do that if they were tying their laces or proposing! And Kristjan’s shoes did not have laces...
‘Kristjan...’
He put his finger to her lips. ‘Please. Let me speak. I’ve been thinking a lot just lately, and I’ve come to the conclusion that you and I have something amazing here. We understand each other, we share painful pasts, but more than that we’re united in what we want for the future—for our child! Knowing that you’re moving here permanently, giving up your old life for us, is—’
What the hell was he going on about?
She hadn’t made a decision yet and he was thinking she would just do everything that he wanted? Had he never heard of compromise? Had he never heard of talking things through?
Her chair scraped back noisily as she got to her feet.
‘Stop! Stop it now!’
A wave of anger washed over her at his presumption. How dared he?
‘I never said I was moving here permanently, and you have no right to assume that’s what I’m going to do! I’m the one in charge of my life! Not you! Do you think you can just get down on one knee and propose to me and assume everything has gone your way? You don’t marry someone just because they’re having your baby! You marry someone because you love them! Have you never listened to a word I’ve said?’
She threw down her napkin and stormed from the room into the guest bedroom, slamming the door behind her, feeling fury and rage overwhelming her with their strength, along with a feeling of disbelief and injustice!
She’d told him about what had happened with Mark. How they’d got married in a rush, on a whim, with neither of them taking the time to think it through properly and how that had ended for her! Bruised and battered in a women’s shelter, swearing off men for life.
And he thought proposing marriage to her was a good thing to do? On the anniversary of making the worst mistake of her life, he wanted her to make another one? He had no idea what he was doing! He was a relationship virgin.
You didn’t propose marriage because there was a baby. You married because of love. You married because you couldn’t live without the other person! You married because you wanted to be with that person for the rest of your life! To wake up with them and go to sleep with them every single day. To care for them when they were sick. To hold their hand when they were going through something hard. To give them your heart in the palm of your hand, knowing that they would keep it safe for as long as they lived.
He was proposing for all the wrong reasons. For convenience. Because she already lived in his house. Because she already shared his bed. Because she was already pregnant. Because of the baby. He wasn’t proposing because he loved her!
And who says I’m staying?
This wasn’t real yet. But he was trying to make it so. Trying to fix the holes in their relationship with a giant sticking plaster.
Well, plasters didn’t heal anything. They just hid the badness. And if this behaviour, this assumption, wasn’t controlling, then she didn’t know what was!
Tears trickled down her cheeks as she grabbed her clothes from the wardrobe and threw them on the bed, looking for the wheeled suitcase she’d put away only a few short weeks ago.
Did he not see how she felt? How she would be repeating the past if she jumped straight into a relationship with him? What they had together was fun and, yes, she enjoyed being with him—but was she ready to live a life with him?
She stopped to sniff. Wipe her nose.
He’d ruined everything!
There was a knock at her bedroom door and then he opened it. ‘Merry...’
She saw him see the suitcase, the clothes, the fact that she was packing.
‘You’re not leaving?’
‘Of course, I am! You don’t get to have a say in what I do!’
‘But, Merry, I—’
She held up her hands. ‘I don’t want to hear it, Kristjan! Why couldn’t you have just...?’ She ran out of words, frustrated at his clumsy attempt to advance their relationship into something it wasn’t.
‘It’s Christmas Eve! Please...where will you go?’
‘I’ll find somewhere,’ she said.
‘But—’
‘The mountain pass may be open. I’ll ask around. But what I do and where I go is nothing to do with you.’
‘You’re carrying my child.’
‘Oh, I know! I’ve almost uprooted everything because of it. You persuaded me to stay because of it. You assumed because of it. Well, no more.’
‘I can’t let you wander the streets on Christmas Eve, Merry. And you can’t go down that mountain pass if it isn’t safe!’
She fastened the suitcase and shrugged on her coat. ‘Just try to stop me!’ she said, and she barged past, her heart breaking in her fury, storming to the front door and opening it.
Outside, snowflakes gently fell, slow and silent.
She turned. ‘I thought you just might be different. But you men... You’re all the same.’
And as she closed the door behind her the last thing she saw was the shocked and hurt look on Kristjan’s face.
* * *
Nat King Cole crooned quietly from the speakers whilst Kristjan sat in his now very empty home, wondering just what the hell had happened.
She’d been planning to move to Iceland. She’d circled some properties in Snowy Peak. Had been speaking to a solicitor. He’d heard her on the phone. You didn’t do that unless you were thinking of viewing those properties, and you only viewed properties if you were interested in moving. And the solicitor...? Well, that could have been for anything!
Had he read her wrong? They’d been getting along so well together. He’d thought...
What? What did I think—really?
Okay, perhaps a proposal had been jumping the gun somewhat, but he was new to this relationship malarkey and he hadn’t really known what he was doing. But it hadn’t really been about the proposal, or love, it had been about showing her that he was committed to her!
But what if she’d never wanted that?
He sat there for a moment, trying to see things from her point of view. She had discovered she was pregnant after a hot one-night stand in Hawaii and had come all this way to another country to tell the father—only to get stranded because of the snow. The father had invited her to stay and to work at his hospital, because he’d known she was a good doctor. But they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off one another, and then the father had told her he would convince her to stay.
He had told her, he would convince her...
Was that it? Was that the crux of this matter? Had she felt as if a noose was tightening?
Merry had told him about Mark, about what had happened in her marriage. How her husband had been a controlling man, making all the decisions, telling her what to do.
She’d hated Christmas because she’d made a bad decision at Christmas, to marry a man on impulse. And he, Kristjan, had proposed on Christmas Eve—on impulse!
Oh, boy, am I an idiot!
And now she was out there, traipsing around in the snow, pregnant and with nowhere to go. On Christmas Eve!
In a daze, he walked into the guest room and looked around. The wardrobe doors still hung open, and a couple of coat hangers were lopsided. The chest of drawers wasn’t closed properly, and she’d left the book she was reading on her nightstand.
He picked it up and looked at it. Books were special on Christmas Eve in Iceland. Families gave each other books to read the night before Christmas. He’d bought her this book, knowing she wanted it. He’d hoped she was reading it. There was a bookmark. No. It was an envelope. He opened the book for a
closer look and saw that the envelope had his name on it.
Merry Christmas, Kristjan!
He sat down on the edge of the bed and opened the envelope to find an official solicitor’s letter confirming the fact that Dr Merry Bell was going to be financing, every year in perpetuity, a week at The Elf Foundation for one child who had no family of their own. It was to be called The Bell Prize.
Oh. That was why!
His heart swelled with gratitude that she would do this! That she would join him and provide a special time away for a child at the foundation that he had set up.
She cared. Just as much as he did.
And she was scared. Just as much as he was.
He could see that now.
And he’d gone storming in with his big boots. Thinking that commitment was what she needed to see. But what if he’d been wrong all this time? What if she’d needed to hear something more? Be shown something more?
I should have told her that I love her.
He couldn’t lose her. She didn’t deserve this and neither did he. He couldn’t let things end this way. He had to tell her how he truly felt!
Kristjan didn’t even have time to grab his jacket. He simply got up and left, slamming the door behind him, sending a shower of settled snow from his porch down onto his shoulders.
He ignored it.
The cold didn’t matter.
What mattered more than anything was Merry.
* * *
She’d never imagined that she would be trudging through the snow again, cold and wet, dragging that damned wheeled suitcase behind her the way she had when she’d first arrived, but here she was.
Her first thought when she’d left Kristjan’s house had been to tramp right up to the mountain pass and see if she could get down it. But she’d quickly got rid of that idea.
Yes, she would finally be out of Snowy Peak, but it had been a two-hour taxi ride from Reykjavik to get there, and she didn’t fancy trudging for hours, seeing if she could hitch a ride from someone in a country she didn’t know. And, though she was fairly certain she’d made a huge mistake in leaving Kristjan’s house, where it was warm and dry, she didn’t want to make another mistake. She knew the pass could be treacherous. It had taken the lives of both of his parents—she would never risk her child’s life like that.
The Icelandic Doc's Baby Surprise Page 15