- Home
- Annie O'Neil
The Surgeon's Christmas Wish Page 15
The Surgeon's Christmas Wish Read online
Page 15
“Fraser, are we—?”
She felt his finger drag across her swollen lips to silence her.
“Tonight. I don’t want you to think about anything but tonight.”
*
Tara nestled comfortably into the warm folds of her duvet, letting out a little sigh of contentment. Something felt different. Something—no, someone—was missing from her bed. She cracked open one eye, then the other, realizing pretty quickly she was alone.
Pressing herself up into a seated position, she scanned the room. What was going on?
A flurry of memories snapped her wide awake. The last thing she remembered was being held in Fraser’s arms after a ridiculously perfect night of lovemaking. It was as if he’d unleashed a side of her she’d never known existed before now. The night had been unbelievably magical. Better than she’d ever let herself imagine in the handful of moments she’d allowed herself to daydream.
Cocking her head to the side, she listened carefully. No creaking floorboards, no sounds other than the odd hoot of an owl. It was still dark out. A quick glance at her clock and she saw that it was only just past five in the morning. Fraser was an early bird but she hadn’t thought he liked to be up this early.
Tara heard a sound coming from the kitchen. What was it? A second, louder, gurgly noise spluttered forth from the kitchen.
Pulling the duvet away from her legs, Tara slipped her feet to the cold floor. Coffee too? He’s good!
Quickly padding across the living room, she entered the kitchen. Empty.
Propped against the percolating coffee pot was a turkey-shaped gingerbread cookie and a handwritten note. A smile flew to her lips as she noted Fraser would definitely fall into the category of doctors whose penmanship nurses despaired over. At least it made him a bit more human. Her eyes ran over the scrawled script in a flash.
Morning, Dorothy—had to leave. The Tin Man
Tara’s heart lurched into her throat, her fingers flying to her neck as if to stop the constriction of breath.
Go where and for how long? And the Tin Man? The Tin Man didn’t have a heart! What on earth was Fraser trying to say?
Heartless was the polar opposite of how Tara would have described Fraser, a man who’d whirled into her life like a tornado. A mind-blowingly gorgeous, not to mention medically impressive, tornado. Was he leaving Deer Creek? Leaving her? Or did he just have to leave to get milk or something? What sort of message was this?
Lowering herself into the breakfast nook, Tara felt her mouth go dry with panic. She forced herself to take even breaths. She been such an idiot to believe for a second she could trust Fraser.
Something told her this wasn’t Fraser just whizzing out to run an errand. He was leaving for good.
She wasn’t anywhere near Kansas and Deer Creek was no Oz, but Tara knew in her sinking heart that Deer Creek would never be the same without Fraser MacKenzie in it. She didn’t know why, but an ever-increasing ache in her gut was telling her she’d seen the last of him.
Strictly speaking, it wasn’t a farewell note, but last night’s confession over dinner should have served as fair warning. Fraser didn’t like to stick around, particularly when emotions were involved. He saw himself as the man responsible for the death of his brother and for orphaning his niece and nephew. It was a heavy load to handle and perhaps running away from commitment was the only way he would ever be able to deal with his grief, the only way to avoid losing someone else he cared about. He’d told her he loved her!
She abruptly crumpled up his note and stuffed it in the trash. Tears stung at her eyes as she felt fury well up within her. Fury that she had let herself back into the emotional no-go zone. A zone she’d created for exactly this sort of scenario. Rejection.
“At least he made coffee,” she muttered to the empty room.
Wait a minute! Her heart lurched again.
Did the percolating coffee maker mean he’d just been here? Did she still have a chance to catch him and demand an explanation? He owed her that at the very least. How dare he just whirl into her life, make mincemeat of her heart then leave town as though she had meant absolutely nothing to him? Not to mention all the patients he would be abandoning.
Now she was properly fuming. How dare he? How dare he leave her in a professional lurch like this?
She exhaled a bitter laugh.
What had she expected? She’d been a fool to succumb to his well-practiced charms. It was back to being the lone wolf. Just the way she liked it.
*
Fraser glanced at his watch. Anxiety actively gnawed at his nerves as each box was filled, taped and labeled. He’d hardly let himself move in, so moving on was relatively easy. Well, physically. Emotionally? That was a whole different ballgame.
He sat back on his heels and scanned the room. Not much left. The condo already had the same empty feel it had the day he’d moved in. Leaving like this, leaving Tara like this, was the last thing he wanted to do, but he was sure he was doing the best thing. For both of them.
He stepped up to the picture windows facing the resort. Christmas trees twinkled away in the lodge. The lights and seasonal decorations wound their way along the main street up into the hillside, where a handful of houses etched another line of Christmas cheer along the edges of Deer Creek. Houses full of families anticipating the big day.
He took a step back and continued with his packing. He couldn’t remember the last Christmas he’d spent as part of a family. His niece and nephew had hardly been old enough to spell when he’d seen them last.
He shook away the memory of his brother’s family gathered around their Christmas tree the final time they’d been home on leave together.
Avoiding the holiday entirely had proved a fairly effective technique until now. All of the other resorts had been more than happy to accommodate his request that he be scheduled to work Christmas. And now?
He took a cursory glance around the increasingly bare living room. Christmas Eve was around the corner and it was time to move on.
CHAPTER TEN
“LIESEL, COULD YOU send in the next patient, please?”
Tara hung up the intercom phone, irritated with herself for not wanting to go out into the waiting room like she normally did.
She just didn’t have the strength. Not today. Given that Liesel had just lost the love of her life and was out there facing the general public made her feel pretty pathetic. Hearing the doorknob turn, she pushed herself round in her chair to face her next patient.
The hint of a smile she had forced onto her lips disappeared in an instant. Fraser MacKenzie and his six-foot-something perfect self filled her doorway.
“I’m sorry, we only deal with emergencies here.”
“Tara, I know what you must be thinking—”
“No. You don’t have the slightest idea what I’m thinking and that’s exactly how I’d like to keep it. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got real patients to attend to.” Tara gestured for him to leave. The door was still standing ajar. As she willed him to turn round and go, her heart burned for him to stay, to declare his love for her again. But that bridge had been burnt and would never be crossed again.
“Tara, just give me two minutes. I know I don’t deserve it, but I can’t go without making sure you understand I never lied to you.”
“What about?” Her eyes blazed with fury as she pushed herself up from her chair. “The fact that, no matter what, you’ll never settle down? The fact you prefer a one-off with a snow bunny to a genuine relationship? Or the fact that you loved me for one night only?”
Pain darkened Fraser’s eyes to a dark, churning blue. “Tara, I never, ever meant to disrespect you. Never.”
“Then why did you lie?” She shot back. “Why mention the one thing you knew I was terrified to hear?”
“It’s not as if you returned the sentiment.” His words sounded hollow, empty—as if he had already left and it was a hologram standing there in her office, making a mockery of her.
Tar
a’s mind raced back to the previous night. Had she told him she loved him? She knew she felt it. Despite her every vow not to, she loved Fraser more than she had imagined possible, but had she said it out loud? She couldn’t remember. “So wait a minute. You’re leaving Deer Creek because I didn’t say I loved you? How could you not know it was true? Not know I wouldn’t have let things progress so...so intimately if I didn’t love you.”
“It doesn’t matter now.” Fraser dropped his eyes from hers, the tone of his voice becoming more distant than she could have imagined possible. “It’s too soon. For both of us.”
Hot spikes of anger shot through her. “How dare you decide what is too soon for me? I make the decisions about my life and who I love. Not you!”
“The same holds true for me, Tara. And this isn’t right for me. Not right now.” Fraser shook his head slowly, as if trying to convince himself the words he was saying were true. “Look, I’ve organized cover for a few days. I need time to sort myself out—figure out what my options are. A couple of guys from the Valley ER said they’d stand in for me. I’ll be in touch. You’ve got a good group of people around you, Tara. They’re all looking out for you.”
Before she could get a word in edgeways, he was gone. Just as quickly as he’d arrived in her life, Fraser MacKenzie left, having taken the one thing she’d thought she’d never give away again. Her heart.
*
Tara raised a mittened hand, mixed emotions coursing through her. She waved a reluctant farewell until the blue four-by-four carrying Liesel and all her luggage down to the Valley disappeared from sight.
“They’ll look after her.”
Tara gave a start. She’d been so engrossed in Liesel’s departure she hadn’t heard Marian approach. Tara offered her a weak smile.
“I know. Eric’s family are good people.” She felt herself choking back a few tears. “It still doesn’t seem real, does it?”
“Seven months is a long time to sort out a plan, honey.”
Just the thought of Liesel’s pregnancy painfully compressed Tara’s heart. “I suppose. Still, if she goes back to Australia, it’ll be hard for Eric’s parents.”
Marian put a reassuring arm around Tara’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry, Tara. Deer Creek takes care of its own. You and all other members of our extended family will be looked after. We’ll see to that.”
Tara avoided the kindly baker’s gaze after the barely veiled reference to Fraser. Or was it? It was hard to tell. Despite herself, every single thought she had led straight back to Fraser. After their Thanksgiving meal she had thought—no, she had hoped—he’d really meant those cherished words. I love you. She’d been so very naïve to believe him.
Her eyes stung with the injustice of it all. In just a few short weeks he had become the person who was always there for her. The person she knew she could share a laugh with or consult with on a professional matter. Now, in one heartbreaking swoop, she had lost him and now Liesel. Not that she resented Liesel’s decision to go.
Eric’s family had offered to take her in to stay with them in the Valley even before they had heard about her unexpected pregnancy. It would be easy enough to find a replacement nurse and being up on the mountain right now was too hard for her.
Since the news that Liesel was carrying Eric Hunter’s baby had become common knowledge, Tara had watched with admiration as the whole of Deer Creek, and many families from the Valley, had united in offering the Hunter family and Liesel countless pies, casseroles, firewood—anything that would help ease the pain. The funeral had been held straight away and the rich outpouring of love and support that had followed had been truly moving to witness.
Tara had always felt welcomed and happy over the past year at Deer Creek, but now she genuinely felt as though she was part of a community. A community that supported people individually and came together as an unbeatable unit in times of crisis and joy. It seemed clear that, despite his best efforts, Fraser could not see himself as a part of the community here. Or, perhaps, he would not. It had already been forty-seven hours since she had last seen him and still no word.
She linked arms with Marian, giving the older woman’s arm a squeeze. She needed a distraction from her thoughts about Fraser. “I don’t suppose you have any of your holiday pecan rolls left, do you?”
A broad smile was all the answer she needed.
*
“And where are you transiting to today, sir?” The British passport control officer smiled at him as if taking yet another long-haul flight even further away from Tara was a good thing.
“Kenya...Nairobi.” Flying back to England to get a transit flight to Kenya was the plan. A trial run with Médecins Sans Frontières was the perfect anecdote to the six-month contract usually required for a ski season. Finishing the four months he had left at Deer Creek was out of the question.
He couldn’t have messed that up more if he’d planned it. It’d be tricky finding a replacement at this point in the season, but he had enough phone numbers to call, enough favors owed. And whatever he’d inflicted upon Tara emotionally, he certainly wasn’t going to leave her in the lurch professionally. He owed her that at the very least.
He scanned the departures lounge filled with people heading for sun-soaked vacations and business meetings. He was eager to join the focused flow of travelers. Crisis management for refugees. Always on the move. Perfect.
His eyes flicked to the departures board. Nairobi...Nairobi... There it was: delayed—for five hours.
No. He needed to keep moving. Sitting still for the nine-hour flight across the Atlantic had been hard enough. Quashing thoughts of Tara’s face when she’d realised he was going had been torture. If he wanted to know what hate looked like, he was pretty sure he’d had a good sneak preview.
So sitting around at the airport for a few more hours before another long plane journey that played a non-stop run of romantic comedies? Out of the question. He couldn’t just sit there and wait. He needed to do something. His eyes tracked across the activity of the departures lounge again. In just a matter of moments it seemed to have taken on an entirely different atmosphere.
Suddenly everyone just seemed part of a huge disconnection. Hundreds of people scurrying here and there, looking up at the flight times, speeding to gates, racing for...what? New beginnings? Escape from the past? How many flights had he boarded over the years? How many continents had he traveled to, hoping to leave the past behind him? The scene sprawled before him suddenly turned his stomach with disgust. No matter how you painted it, he was running away. Again.
Fraser picked up his small overnight bag and headed towards passport control. He knew what he had to do. It had been long enough. You call yourself a man, Fraser MacKenzie? Well, prove it.
*
Tara picked each of the blueberries out of her pancakes and started to form them into a happy face on the vandalized pancake. Reconsidering, she abruptly turned the smile into a frown. She took a swig of her cinnamon latte. Nope. That wasn’t very nice this morning either. This was the worst beginning to Christmas Eve ever.
Fraser’s absence had now stretched beyond the “few days” prediction. Why hadn’t he just been upfront with her and simply said he wasn’t returning? That she meant nothing to him. This waiting game was beginning to verge on cruel.
The days were hard enough to get through and surviving her sleepless nights had long since taken its toll. She’d been through her old movie collection and finally put a halt to it when she’d realized she was watching the credits roll for Pride and Prejudice for the third time. There was only so much Mr. Darcy a girl could take.
Her apartment had been thoroughly cleaned. Twice. All her Christmas presents had been purchased, wrapped and labeled. She’d even laid them out below the small tree her apartment could only just contain. Then rearranged them. More than once.
Anger had turned into worry as Fraser’s absence from the clinic morphed from a few days to ten. Two hundred and forty incredibly long hours. Not
that she was counting.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so miserable over a plate of pancakes before.” Marian plonked herself down in the worn leather chair across from Tara without an invitation.
It was all Tara could do not to scowl at her friend, but now wasn’t the time for chitchat. If she started to explain why she had a face like thunder it would probably turn into a rainstorm. Crying in the middle of Marian’s bakery was hardly the behavior of the resort doctor.
“Oh, it’s nothing really. I just haven’t been sleeping much. And the clinic’s been really busy.”
“C’mon, honey.” Marian gave her shoulder a reassuring pat. “It’s only me. It’s your Doc Mackenzie, isn’t it?”
Tara felt her face drain of color. Was she wearing a sign that made it that obvious? “How’d you know?”
“Honey, everybody knows.”
Tara dropped her fork as if it were a hot poker. If she hadn’t felt like eating her maple-syrup-drowned pancakes before, she really didn’t feel like eating them now. How humiliating. The whole of Deer Creek knew she’d been mooning over the unattainable and runaway doctor who’d made it clear from the beginning he wasn’t the type to stick around?
Marian lowered her voice but continued in the same comforting tone, “My dear, from the moment that man walked into the bakery I knew you two were a match. Don’t ask me how I knew, but having seen the pair of you over the past few weeks it hasn’t taken too many investigative skills to see you’re both lovesick.”
Tara lowered her head into her hands, hoping to hide some of the color rushing to her cheeks. This was absolutely mortifying. Through the muffling of her fingers she allowed the words to be said out loud, “But he’s gone. And it’s Christmas Eve!” It was all Tara could do to not let her admission form into a wail. She knew she’d fallen for Fraser. Head over heels, like a bewitched teenager. Her ears were ringing with the cacophony of thoughts battling for attention in her head.