Festive Fling with the Single Dad

‘No, but you used your medical knowledge to do as much as any doctor on the scene could have. You kept her quiet, you made sure she didn’t choke. You acted professionally and decisively.’

‘But if something happens to her...’ Flora didn’t want to think about it. If there was something that she’d missed, and Mary didn’t survive this... She couldn’t bear to think about it.

He stopped walking, turning to face her. His eyes seemed dark, and his shadow all-encompassing.

‘Listen. Mary was surrounded by people, and no one realised there was something wrong. If you hadn’t noticed and done something about it, this wouldn’t have ended as well as it has. You were the one who gave her a chance, Flora.’

His trust in her reached the dark corners of her heart. ‘You were pretty cool-headed yourself.’

‘Well, I’ve been in a few situations before.’

Flora would bet he had. ‘I don’t know what I would have done without you.’

He chuckled. ‘I do. You would have done exactly the same—taken care of Mary, checked all her symptoms, and acted quickly. I might not cross the line from animal medicine into human medicine, but those things are essential in any kind of emergency.’

‘You make me feel so much better.’ He’d lifted a heavy weight from her shoulders. Whatever happened now, she’d know that she’d done all she could.

‘Mary was lucky that you were there, Flora. Never think otherwise.’

They’d reached the SUV, parked outside his cottage, and Aksel felt in his pocket for the keys and opened the door for Flora. He was clearly keen to see Mette. She wanted to see Mette. Both of them had found a place in her heart, and now she didn’t want to let them go.

* * *

The process of winding down had taken a while, but helping Mette to unpack the bags that lay in the corner of the room had helped. Aksel had been persuaded to tell a story about his travels, and she found herself joining in with Mette’s excitement at the twists and turns of his narrative.

As they were leaving her phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket, seeing Charles’s number on the display, and when she answered, she heard John’s voice on the line.

She listened carefully to what he had to say, feeling the tension ebb out of her. ‘That’s really good news, John...’

‘Words can’t express my gratitude, for what you did this afternoon Flora...’ John’s voice was breaking with emotion.

‘I’m glad I could help. Make sure you get some rest tonight, you’ll be able to see her in the morning. I’ll come as soon as she’s allowed visitors.’ Flora ended the call, aware suddenly that Aksel was staring at her, waiting to hear John’s news.

‘This isn’t bad news, is it?’

Flora shook her head. ‘No, it’s very good news. We were right about it being a brain haemorrhage and Mary was taken into surgery straight away. The operation was a success, and they’re hopeful that, in time, Mary will make a full recovery.’

‘That’s wonderful. How’s John, does he need a lift from the hospital? I can go there now and take him home.’

‘No, he’s okay. Charles is still there and he got someone from the estate to fetch his car from the village and bring it to the hospital. Benefits of being the Laird.’ A great weight seemed to have been lifted from Flora’s chest, and she felt that she could really breathe again. ‘John said...he was glad that I’d been there.’

‘Yes. I was glad you were there, too. Let’s go home, shall we?’

It seemed so natural to just nod and take his arm. As if the home that they were going to was their home and not two separate cottages. As they walked out of the clinic together, towards the battered SUV, it didn’t seem to matter that she was leaning on his arm. Just for tonight, until she reached her own front door, she could rely on Aksel’s strength and support.

CHAPTER TWELVE

FLORA HAD BEEN wondering whether to ask Aksel over for Sunday lunch, but she’d seen him set out towards the clinic with Kari by his side at eleven o’clock. She opened the refrigerator, staring at its contents. Suddenly she didn’t feel like going to the trouble of cooking.

She made

herself a sandwich, rounding it off with apple pie and ice cream as she watched a film on TV. Then she picked up a book, curling up on the sofa with Dougal and working her way through a couple of chapters.

The doorbell rang, and she opened her front door to find Aksel standing in the front porch. ‘Shouldn’t you be at the clinic?’ The question slipped out before she’d had time to think.

‘I went in a little early today and had lunch with Mette. I left her making paper angels with the other children.’

There was always something going on at the clinic, and Mette had obviously been drawn into the Sunday afternoon activities. ‘That’s good. The world always needs more paper angels.’