The Surgeon's Christmas Wish Page 16

  Where had he gone?

  Why had he gone?

  Was it because of what had happened at the hospital with Eric?

  Or was it because he had finally given himself a glimpse of happiness, security, by admitting that he loved her and felt she didn’t feel the same way? She could’ve kicked herself again and again for not shouting out to the hills at that very moment that she loved him too. Of course she loved him.

  And, more importantly, why, why, why had he done this at Christmas? She adored Christmas. Everyone knew that. Even though Fraser had obviously realized he didn’t love her enough, surely he respected her enough to wait until after the holiday to ruin her life.

  “Uh-oh, honey, you’d better come with me to the back.”

  “Why?” Tara pulled her tear-stained face from out of her hands and followed Marian’s startled glance out at the main street.

  A combination of rage and despair churned round her stomach. There was Fraser, looking happy as a clam, walking down Main Street with a beautiful blonde woman on his arm. They were laughing, heads bent close together as if sharing a private joke. It was all Tara could do to remember to breathe.

  Instead of responding to Marian’s insistent tugging on her arm, Tara remained cemented to the spot. Seriously? He had someone new? Not that she’d been his “someone old.” Or perhaps, like with her ex, Fraser had been playing her all along. Fraser was the one who told her quite openly about his reputation as the Smooth Operator. She had known he had no credentials of longevity, of commitment. She must’ve been crazy to think he’d want to stay here in Deer Creek. With her. Forever.

  “I think you’ve seen enough, honey. Let’s get you to the clinic out the back.”

  “Absolutely,” Tara shot back defiantly. “If I never see Fraser MacKenzie again, it will be too soon.”

  *

  “So you really think you’ll be happy here?”

  Fraser nodded enthusiastically, almost surprised at his own response to his sister-in-law’s question. He felt happy. Genuinely happy. He’d done a “typical Fraser” and fled the scene as soon as possible after his incredible evening with Tara. When she’d fallen asleep in his arms that night, he had felt so responsible for her. It had been too much. Too much to take in in the wake of everything he’d lost. He did not deserve the level of compassion and care she had shown him—the trust. And then he’d gone and made her feel like it had been her fault he’d left. Thank heavens Julie had knocked some sense into him.

  “Here, I want to show you the house. I need a woman’s opinion on what I’ve done with it. Then we’ll go and get the kids from their ski lesson and maybe rearrange the furniture if you think it could be better.” He couldn’t believe he was fretting this much. It was just a house.

  No. That wasn’t right. This was his home. The home he hoped he would share with Tara if... It was a pretty big if. He hadn’t exactly been the most consistent of suitors.

  “So, let me get this straight.” Julie turned from the house to catch him in the beams of an approving smile. “You abandoned Tara with pretty much no explanation at all. Now, courtesy of the internet and an obliging real estate agent, you’ve bought this incredibly beautiful Craftsman House in the hope you can prove you’re in this for the real deal?”

  “Right.”

  “Got it.” She cocked a dubious eyebrow at him.

  “What? I’m a romantic!” He protested. Julie’s doubtful expression remained unchanged. “I’ve been spontaneous before.”

  Julie howled with laughter, giving Fraser a yeah-sure-buddy pat on the shoulder. “Fraser MacKenzie, the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen you do is, uhhhmmmm...” Julie paused theatrically to try and come up with an answer. Fraser batted away her teasing barbs, suddenly feeling the need to prove to his sister-in-law that he was good for this. He was in it for the long haul.

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the little black box he’d picked up before collecting Julie and the kids at the airport. He opened the lid and was gratified with the gasp of admiration Julie gave. “How does this grab you for a “real deal” proposal?”

  “It’s absolutely beautiful, Fraser.” She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “I know I haven’t met her yet, but she’d be a fool to say no. Your brother would be over the moon to know you’d found such happiness.”

  “Julie, I...” Fraser was at a loss. Again. This was precisely why he’d been running around the globe like a lost wanderer for the past few years. Julie and Matt had been his pinup couple for a perfect marriage. His parents had had a great marriage, but Julie and Matt had genuinely been best friends as well. It was the type of relationship Fraser had thought he would never deserve. Until now. He wanted to spend the rest of his days earning his place by Tara’s side. If she could forgive him.

  “Look, big brother-in-law. It’s like I told you back in the UK, I knew when I married a military man what risks Matt would be taking and what that meant for me and our family. Matt will forever be my hero. He died doing what he believed was good and true and I can never...” She paused to lock eyes with Fraser to emphasize her point. “I can never begrudge losing him for doing what he thought was right. And I have never, not once, held you responsible. Now, stop wandering around town with me and go and get your girl.”

  Fraser pulled Julie into a deep bear hug. She was an amazing woman. Resting his head on top of Julie’s as their tight hug relaxed, he welcomed the wash of peace that came over him as he gazed at the newly furnished living room.

  He felt a smile tug at his lips as he and Julie drew apart and smiled at the room together. The furniture was almost incidental. At the center of the golden hardwood floor of the living room was the most perfect Christmas tree he’d been able to find. There were now just a handful of hours before he found out if Tara would accept his proposal.

  *

  Tara looked at the pieces of the stale gingerbread house she’d broken to bits on her examination table. Crabbily she picked one up, discarded it and selected another for inspection. Begrudgingly, she had to admit the chocolate discs were delicious. Dark chocolate was surely every girl’s cure-all.

  Sighing, she sank back into her chair, feeling utterly deflated. It was the end of a long day—Christmas Eve was always a bit wild on the slopes. Everyone was in high gear for the holidays and adrenaline rushes on the mountainside equaled injuries. Fortunately, there hadn’t been anything too severe and she’d been working with one of the temporary nurses from Valley Hospital who had easily helped her wade through the morning and afternoon flurries of patients.

  The nurse had gone now and the clinic was technically closed for the day, but Tara was feeling listless and the last thing she wanted to do was go up into her apartment. It would remind her of everything she didn’t have to celebrate. She had half-heartedly decked her very small hall and made a stab at embellishing the decorations Fraser had left at her house after Thanksgiving.

  Thanksgiving. The night with Fraser played through her mind again and again. So many unanswered questions. She squished her eyes shut as tightly as she could then opened them wide—neither was a particularly successful method of ridding her head of images of the Scottish Don Juan who had crushed her heart.

  Going to her apartment was definitely an option. Then again, leaving the clinic would mean the possibility of running into Fraser and the Other Woman. Deer Creek was a small place and Tara wasn’t going to risk another sighting of he-who-shall-not-be-named.

  She was unable to resist a sardonic laugh. Absolutely perfect. Just when she’d thought her life had really started to take shape here—her research back in her hands, the full support of the hospital behind her, her heart bursting with love— Fraser, the man of her dreams, had morphed into the Grinch who’d stolen her beloved Christmas. Absolutely rich as fruit cake.

  There was no doubt about it. The impact his absence was going to have on her life seemed a pretty surefire route to spinsterhood. No. Lone wolf. Far more attractive. Spinsters wept and wol
ves howled. Right now she felt like howling.

  Finding the remains of the gingerbread house lacking, Tara decided to head for the staff refrigerator. Maybe there was some eggnog in there she’d missed. Eggnog always made things a little bit nicer. Even if you were busy hating the man who had taken your heart and pulverized it into a thousand tiny pieces.

  *

  “Medic One, this is Ski Patrol Three. Do you read me, over?”

  Tara lurched across the counter to grab the radio. Good. Something to preoccupy me. “This is Medic One, I read you. Over.”

  “We’re coming by in about two minutes to take you to a code red over on Deer Creek Lane. Just bring your standard kit. Over.”

  “That’s fine. See you in two. Over.”

  Tara scrunched up her face in confusion. She wasn’t normally called out to the residential sites and the ski patroller had sounded strangely relaxed for a code red. She was, of course, more than happy to help. Perhaps, owing to the fact it was Christmas Eve, she was the only option. A twist of pain captured her breath for a moment. Well. The only doctor who had any staying power, anyway.

  As if by rote, she pulled on her all-weather coat, hat and gloves, and shouldered the backpack that held a self-contained medical kit. Instinct told her she shouldn’t call an ambulance as backup. Not yet. As soon as the medic arrived and she got a full report, she’d make the call.

  Pulling the clinic door shut behind her, Tara turned at the sound of the snowmobile.

  Shivers of emotion sent goose-bumps racing up her arms.

  The figure riding the snowmobile looked all too familiar. Her heart leapt and just as quickly began to pump so rapidly her ears filled with a painful roar. It was all Tara could do not to turn around and walk straight back into the clinic. She forced herself to hold her ground as he pulled to a smooth halt beside her.

  There he was. Fraser MacKenzie. Sitting on his snowmobile, looking at her as if he hadn’t been away for more than five minutes.

  “Jump on, m’lady.”

  “Helmet.” Tara put out a gloved hand, fastidiously avoiding looking into those deep blue eyes that never failed to turn her into a weak-kneed mess. If there hadn’t been a patient waiting, she’d be gone.

  “Oh, dear. Someone’s not in a very Christmassy mood.”

  “I wonder why.”

  Fraser handed her a helmet, eyes briefly squinting as if to divine an answer. “I wasn’t scheduled today, was I? I thought I’d organized cover for the past few—”

  “No,” Tara bit out, cutting him off. “Today’s shift was my distinct pleasure, as it has been for the past ten days, thank you very much.”

  “Well, we’d best get going.”

  Tara climbed onto the back of the snowmobile, ruing the seating arrangement. She tried sitting upright on the seat, avoiding putting her arms around Fraser, but judging by the speedy departure he was clearly in no mood to hang around. Gritting her teeth she moved her arms forward, forced to hold onto him to keep her grip on the seat.

  Unbelievable. First he tears my heart in two and now he’s trying to kill me. Merry Christmas, everyone!

  *

  “You all right back there?” Fraser called back over his shoulder, aware he might’ve been a bit quick on the accelerator. He was running on adrenaline.

  “Fine.”

  Tara’s reply was terse. He didn’t blame her. This whole exercise was well and truly testing fate. Their fate.

  “Good, good. We should be there in a few minutes.”

  “What’s the code red?”

  “Oh. I think it might be a yellow,” Fraser fudged. He’d already forgotten the back story he’d had the ski patroller at the Blue Lantern make up to get her out of the clinic. He’d been lucky the patroller had been willing to break protocol and play along with the ruse at all. Revving the snowmobile up a notch, Fraser focused on getting past Main Street and making the snowy hill climb ahead of them. He just had to hold out for a few more blocks.

  *

  Tara glowered as they swept along Main Street, where the shop windows were twinkling away merrily. All the lights, decorations and holiday preparations she had always seen as a beautiful communal expression of the Christmas spirit passed in a blur. Pressed against Fraser as she was, it was impossible not to allow herself a surreptitious inhalation of his scent. A personal aroma her body was organically drawn to. She felt a physical ache, a need to lay her head against his back, feel the warmth spread from his body to hers as he manipulated the snowmobile through the snowy trenches. Not now. Not any more.

  Steeling herself, Tara kept herself as separate from Fraser’s body as she could. He was the last person she wanted to desire and the sooner this callout was over, the better.

  She watched silently as they passed the resort and climbed the hill to a small residential area. A smattering of houses facing out towards the valley that Tara had daydreamed about living in one day. There was one in particular...

  “I thought no one lived here.”

  Tara jumped off of the back of the snowmobile in front of the deep green Craftsman. The “For Sale” sign she’d been eagle-eyeing over the past few months was noticeably absent. Warm light glowed from large wooden-framed windows nestled snugly along one of the most inviting porches Deer Creek had on offer.

  “No one does.”

  “I don’t have time for riddles, Fraser. Where’s the patient?”

  “You’re looking at him.”

  Tara took a step back, trying to control the swell of ire she felt growing within her. What was he talking about?

  “Look, Fraser. I’m not in the mood to be messed around. Not tonight. Just go find your little blonde snow bunny and she can give you all the TLC you need.”

  Fraser looked as if she had slapped him.

  “Tara, I don’t know what you think you saw...”

  It was too late to change her mind now. Christmas or no Christmas, she might as well have it out with him and then say goodbye. “You know exactly what I saw. You must think I’m an idiot. An empty chalet, you looking as happy as can be, with a blonde woman dangling off your arm. You warned me you were a bit of a Lothario, but I hadn’t realized that abandoning the clinic in order to charm your way through the residents of Deer Creek was your style.” Tara had more but stopped in mid-rant as a broad smile began to unfurl on Fraser’s lips and he began to chuckle.

  “Why are you laughing at me?” She was about as close to stamping her feet as she had ever come.

  “Why, Dr. Braxton,” he drawled, his brogue lazily working its way across the “r” in her name, “I think you just might be jealous.”

  Tara bridled. Fraser may have just called a spade a spade but he was certainly the last person on earth who was going to know the truth. “Don’t be ridiculous. I need someone I can rely on and you are certainly not it. Consider yourself freed from any contract we have. Professional or otherwise.”

  Fraser took a step towards her, his six-foot-plus frame making its usual impressive presence. Tara felt her body shift into its intuitive pulse-quickening state of sensual response to the sheer masculinity of him. Does he really have to put me through this?

  “Actually, I brought you here tonight to discuss an entirely different type of contract.”

  Tara’s head felt as if it was spinning. What was he trying to say? Was he going to stay here in her dream house with the woman she’d seen him with? The thought was unbearable.

  “Spit it out, Fraser. I’d like to get back to my real patients.”

  Extending a hand towards her, Fraser maintained his broad smile. Tara firmly stuffed her gloved hands into her pockets, fighting the primal urge to put her hand in his.

  “All right, then, if you want to play it that way...”

  Before she could protest, Fraser had closed the space between them in a split second, scooped her up into his arms and carried her up the steps of the porch. “I had hoped this wouldn’t happen under duress,” he murmured into her ear, as her arms sought purchase r
ound his neck.

  Words escaped Tara as the intimacy of his touch soaked into her like a soothing tonic. Putty. Despite her best efforts she was actually like putty in his hands. He slipped her to the wooden planked floor of the porch as if she weighed no more than a feather.

  Tara watched incredulously as Fraser lowered himself to one knee to the porch, taking both of her hands in his. Heat shot up her arms, coiling in a fluid rush of sensation charging her entire body.

  “Tara Braxton, meeting you has changed my world. Being with you has taught me the most important thing is to live life as richly as I can.” Tara caught her breath, barely able to acknowledge this wasn’t a dream.

  “I believe,” Fraser continued, as he pulled out a small black box, “life partners should bring out the very best in the other and you, Tara Braxton, bring out the very best in me. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  Tara drew in a sharp breath as Fraser opened the lid to the box to reveal a beautiful solitaire ring.

  “But...” Tara faltered. “You moved out. I saw you with another woman.”

  “I moved out so I—we—could move here! It didn’t take much of a genius to figure out the real estate agent’s details on the staff refrigerator were there for a reason. A bit more digging and I heard you had been asking about this property. When you told me you could buy the practice or the house, I thought that after all you’d been through with your ex, you more than deserved your own practice. A place that would serve as the nerve center for all your innovations. I bought this to prove to you I can stay somewhere. That I want to stay somewhere. Here. With you.” Fraser continued at high speed, afraid he couldn’t get it all out if he let Tara speak.

  “The woman you saw is my sister-in-law. Julie. She and the kids can’t wait to meet you.” He was serious now, holding her gaze steadily. “There were some old ghosts I needed to lay to rest. Having her here to meet you—the woman I love—was one of the steps I needed to take. Besides, she helped me pick out a few bits of furniture to make moving in with me a bit more of a desirable option...” Fraser threw back his head and laughed as Tara stared at him wordlessly. He pressed her hands together in his. “How about an answer?”