Heart Surgeon to Single Dad

Betty stirred in her sleep and Axel glanced at her only briefly. Working with her was going to be harder than he’d originally thought.

Maybe his father would take pity on him and step in, especially if his father saw how working with her would be a struggle. He wasn’t completely sure how he was going to manage that, but he’d find a way. He couldn’t work with Betty. Her or anyone.

He was better on his own. Focused on saving lives and taking care of Eira. That was all he could handle in his life and that was all he really deserved.

His PTSD and Eira were baggage that women couldn’t handle and he was fine with that. Eira and his work were his priority. Too bad he was also failing at that. Lives he could save, but dealing with a fourteen-year-old girl was something else altogether.

Still, Eira had no one else and he’d promised his brother he would care for her as they’d clung to what was left of the helicopter in the stormy North Sea.

Betty woke with a start, jolting Axel from his musings.

“Are we there?” she asked drowsily.

“Nearly,” he said, gently.

“Good.” She sat up and stretched. “Sorry I dozed off there.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re tired and you need to get your sleep. You start in a couple of days and the shift starts at five in the morning. I’ll come and pick you up.”

“I can walk to the hospital.”

“It’s still dark at five in the morning. I will pick you up.”

“Fine. I guess that’s okay. I don’t want to get disoriented on my first day.”

“You will have obstacles. Language, for one.”

“I can speak a bit,” she responded in a bit of broken Icelandic. “And I believe most people here speak very good English.”

He laughed. “You are right. When did you learn Icelandic?”

“My father spoke Icelandic because he spent a few years working here before I was born. That’s how he and your father became friends. My father came here to work and met your father and then they corresponded for years. My father loved it here and taught me a few words of the language.

Axel shrugged. “I never thought to ask how my father knew yours, but I guess it makes sense. My father is not much of a traveler, so I couldn’t really picture him going to the US.”

Silence fell between them.

He pulled down a side street off the Hverfisgata that wasn’t far from the hospital. Her little rental was a small blue-green cottage that had a view of the water. It made his stomach twist in a knot as he looked out over that cruel, unforgiving stretch of sea.

He used to love that wide expanse of churning blue, now he hated it.

“Here you go. I’ll help you in.” Axel didn’t give her a chance to protest. There would be icy patches down by the sea and it was windy. As soon as he stepped out of the car he could feel salty mist spraying his face.

“Hold on, Calder. Help is coming.”

“I... I can’t.” There was a wound on Calder’s face; his eyes were closed. “Promise me.”

Axel knew what he was talking about. “I’ll look after her. Don’t worry, but just hold on.”

“I’m so cold.”

“You okay?” Betty asked as he opened her door and then he realized he was blocking the way.

“Fine.” He reached down to pick her up, but she held up her hands.

“I’ve got it. Thanks.”

Axel didn’t fight her and stepped back. He grabbed her luggage from the back and followed her up the path and the few stairs as she punched in a code on the lock box and got the key. His pulse was thundering in his ears, because every fiber in his being was telling him to get away from the water.