Jingle Bell Bride

“I appreciate that.” She cleared her throat, surprised that her words came out a little strained. “Falling would be a bad thing for many reasons. Just think, if I landed in the rosebushes, they’d never be the same.”

A dog’s happy bark rang like a bell from beneath the porch, scattering sparrows away from the bird feeder. Dee pranced down the steps and down the walkway, head held high, tongue lolling, as excited as if she were leading a parade down Main Street. Macie followed with a few telltale cookie crumbs on her coat, flanked by Sara Beth. Meg shut the front door and trailed down the porch steps after them.

Finally, her sisters had come to rescue her. Not that hanging around with Michael Kramer had been so terrible. No, she certainly couldn’t say that. “Looks like your daughter has come looking for you.”

“So I see. I guess that’s my cue to leave, unless you want me to stay and help.”

“Oh no, I have plenty of help, if I can motivate my sisters, and you have a daughter to take care of.” She gripped the top rung and moved carefully down one step and the next. “Plus, I’m anxious to see what she’s done to her cast. Let me see, Macie.”

“It’s all Christmassy now.” The girl held her arm up for all to see. “They had lots of stickers, Dad. It was awesome.”

“But in the end we went with an animal and Christmas theme,” Sara Beth explained, folding a lock of straight dark hair behind her slim shoulder. “Doesn’t it look stunning?”

“I think the color scheme works,” Meg added, her dark eyes twinkling.

“Do you like it, Dad?” Macie beamed, her pink cast artfully decorated with candy cane stickers, white snowflakes and gold stars, Christmas trees and cats and dogs. “And I got to pet Burt.”

“Who’s Burt?” he asked.

“Burt liked that, I’m sure.” Chelsea leaned in to check out the stickers. Her light chestnut hair tumbled across her face, shielding her as she admired Macie’s sticker choices. “Now that’s one fantastic cast.”

“I know,” she said in her high, sweet voice. “Burt is a cat, Dad. You know, what I’m asking for Christmas.”

“I’m well aware.” No secret there. He caught hold of his child’s shoulder, nudging her toward the car.

“I was going to ask for a white kitty, but now I want a gray striped one like Burt.” Macie crunched through the snow with her pink boots.

That was already on his Christmas to-do list. Find a kitten for Macie. Not that he knew where to find kittens. The pet store? Ads in the paper?

The Lab gave a cheerful bark and loped ahead, glancing over her shoulder to smile at them in her doggy way.

“And I want one that hugs me,” Macie reminded him for the fiftieth time.

“I know.” He yanked open the SUV’s passenger door. “I’m still planning on giving you a stocking full of coal. No presents at all.”

“Oh, Daddy.” Macie rolled her eyes, not believing him. He couldn’t imagine why.

He swung her up onto the seat. “Time to go, little one. You’re looking a little pale around the gills.”

“Fish have gills. Not me.”

“Sure you do.” He helped her buckle up, aware of the women standing nearby, especially one woman, although he couldn’t explain it. He didn’t have to turn around to picture her standing ankle deep in snow in her navy coat and with her wavy chestnut hair dancing in the wind.

“Thank you for the stickers,” Macie called over his shoulder.

“You let me know if you need more. We have plenty,” Sara Beth answered, although it wasn’t her that he noticed as he turned to close the door.

“The icicle lights look the best. You were right, Macie.” Chelsea gestured toward the house where two strings of lights flashed in the glancing sunlight. “Thanks for the help, Michael. It’s more than my own sisters would do.”

“Hey, I could have done it,” Sara Beth corrected good-naturedly.

“But I just didn’t want to,” Meg confessed with a smile.

“This is what I get for being the oldest. It’s a burden.” Chelsea rolled her eyes, feigning displeasure, but her smile gave her away.

Had he ever seen a day so bright? He couldn’t remember one. The light blue sky shone vivid against snowy clouds sailing by in speeding puffs. The gleam and glitter of sunshine on the miles of snow stole his breath. And Chelsea shone the brightest of all, making him notice.

Two vehicles rolled into sight, cresting the roll of Wyoming prairie.

“It’s Dad,” she announced and bit her bottom lip.

“Early.” Meg shook her head.

“And the lights aren’t finished.” Sara Beth sighed. “Oh, well. It was a good thought.”

“It was.” Chelsea waved to her father behind the steering wheel. The chains on his pickup chinked as he rumbled around Michael’s SUV in the driveway and pulled up in front of the garage. A familiar beige vehicle lumbered into view. “Hey, there’s my car.”

“Rescued by another sister?” Michael asked as he opened his door.

“Yes, no idea what I’d do without Johanna.” She waved to the youngest of the McKaslin sisters. Johanna waved back, her neon blue mittens flashing behind the glare of the windshield before she pulled into the garage.

“I hope the rest of the light hanging goes well.” He folded his six-foot-plus frame into the front seat, his door thudded shut and the engine purred to life. His window rolled down. “I’ll see you around, Chelsea McKaslin.”

Whether that was a threat or a promise, she couldn’t tell.

The SUV motored away as Macie waved with her good hand, and Dee barked and whined, perhaps disappointed she wasn’t the one going for a ride.

“He was totally good-looking,” Meg commented. “An eleven on a scale of ten.”

“Was he? You know me. I’m not looking.” Although she couldn’t explain why she watched Michael’s SUV rumble down the road and out of sight. It didn’t mean she was interested in him. No way. “I have a no-man plan, remember?”

“I thought it was a five-year plan.” Sara Beth just had to point that out, didn’t she?

“A five-year plan, a no-man plan. Same difference.” She forced her gaze away from the swell in the prairie that had swallowed Michael’s SUV from her sight and turned on her heel, concentrating on the one man she could count on. “Dad.”

Dee spotted him and barked, leaping to race to his side and pant up at him adoringly.

“Hey, girls.” Grant McKaslin patted the Lab on her head. “I see you’re putting up the house lights. Looks good.”

His words sounded strained. Emotion gleamed in his eyes.

“Love the lights!” Johanna bounded out of the garage as the door lowered behind her. “Time for lunch, but, Chelsea, I’ll pitch in after we eat. I can’t wait to see them all lit up.”

“Your mom would be pleased.” Dad said the words they were all thinking. He held out one arm to draw Johanna close, the other to pull in Meg. “Let’s get in and warm up. Chelsea, we found your car at the side of the road.”

“Thanks for bringing her in.”

“No problem. I hope you girls have soup on the stove. I’m frozen clean through.”

Dee raced ahead, tail wagging, leading the way to the front door. Chelsea glanced over her shoulder to catch a last look at the half-finished lights dangling from the roofline. If only Mom were here, she thought, full of longing, but that was not to be. With a sigh, she tapped up the porch steps behind her sisters. As Dad held the door open for them, a gust of wind chased her inside and stirred the icicle lights above as if with a loving hand.

* * *

Michael tucked the fleece throw gently around his sleeping daughter while the TV hummed with a kid’s movie in the background. Clouds had moved in to dim the sun shining through the living room window, hinting at more snow on the way.

Macie sighed in her sleep, snuggling against her pillow pet. Her brown hair tumbled over her forehead, framing her face. Such a sweet girl. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, backed away from the couch and padded across the carpet, careful not to wake her.

The house phone rang. He caught it on the third electronic jingle, lifting the cordless receiver out of its cradle. He recognized the name on the electronic display. “Hey, Steve.”

“Hey.” His colleague sounded chipper. “I’m about to head out with my wife, but I wanted to check on your girl. How’s her arm?”

“Doing as well as can be expected. She’s napping now.” He tucked the receiver against his shoulder and eyed the lunch dishes in the sink. “What are you doing checking up on patients? You just can’t take a weekend off, can you?”

“I’m trying. We’re going snowmobiling. We’re just about to head out.”

“Sounds fun, so what are you doing on the phone with me?” He opened the dishwasher.

“Fine, so I’m not cutting back on my workload like I planned.” Steve didn’t sound guilty about that, not at all. “Eventually I’ll have to, since the new doctor I hired to help me starts on Monday.”

“I had no idea. Last I heard you were going to wait until January to start looking for someone.” He turned on the faucet and ran a lunch plate through the stream.

“I’ve had my eye on this doctor for a while, she’s available and the timing is right.” Steve’s smile warmed his words. “One of these days I won’t have to come into the office at all. The rest of you are so good, I’ll be absolutely unnecessary.”

“You? No chance of that.” Steve Swift was one of the most knowledgeable doctors around. “No one can fill your shoes.”

“I don’t believe it for a second.” Steven chuckled and it was good to hear him sounding happy. “My wife is calling. Better go.”

“Have fun. No more thinking about work. You’re not on call, remember?” He slipped a plate into the dishwasher rack, trying to imagine the unathletic man on a snowmobile. “And no accidents, got it?”

“Got it. No worries, Laura has done this before. We’re going on a tour up in the mountains. Great, now she’s honking. I really do have to go.”

“Have fun, Steve.” He set the phone on the counter, shaking his head. Seeing Steve broadening his horizons was gonna be very interesting. Maybe because although twenty years separated them, they were very alike. Workaholics dedicated to their profession, men of science and men who didn’t have room for much else in their lives.

What about the new doctor? And why hadn’t Steve said more before this? Why the mystery? Then again, that had been the plan since his health scare. He’d had a minor heart attack, but it had been a wake-up call for Steve. Less time at work, he’d said in the break room one day. More time spent living life to the fullest.

Couldn’t argue with that. The light clink of the dishes as he loaded the dishwasher kept him company in the lonely room. In Michael’s opinion, this was living life to the fullest. He had a job he loved, a comfortable home and a daughter to care for. Speaking of which, he grabbed the phone, dialed his mom and waited for the phone to connect. He swished the soup pan through the water, fit it into the bottom rack and closed the dishwasher door as she answered, sounding breathless.

“Am I catching you at a bad time?” He reached for the paper towel roll.

“No, just came in from running errands. It’s cold out there!” June Kramer blew out a breath for emphasis and something in the background rustled. “The grocery store was crazy. Everyone stocking up for the next storm. They say it’s going to be a doozy. How’s my granddaughter?”

“Napping.” He peeked around the corner. Yep, still asleep.

“Good, she needs rest to heal. Say, I bought cookie makings. Figured she might want to help me with my first batch of Christmas cookies. That ought to be a proper excuse to spend time with her. How does tomorrow sound?”

“I’m sure she’ll like it.” He was thankful to the Lord that his mom was the kind of grandmother who would step in and fill the void in Macie’s life. His mom was gold in a hundred different ways. “Why don’t you take her home after church? I’ll pack a bag if you want to keep her overnight.”

“Yes, yes, yes! Oh, you’ve just made me a very happy grammy.” More rustling bags and the sound of a refrigerator opening. “I’m glad I bought the supplies for her favorite supper.”

“You were already planning, admit it.” He grabbed a paper towel and a spray bottle of eco-friendly cleaner. “That I suggested you keep her worked into your master plan.”

“It did. Your dad will take her to school come Monday, as long as it’s not a snow day. Then, again, maybe we’ll keep her forever.”

“Sure, go ahead and try.” He squirted the length of counter and wiped it down. “In the meantime, I need your help with one of Macie’s Christmas gifts.”

“Do you mean the Christmas gift, the only one she wants?”

“The kitten.” No idea how that was going to work out, and he was a little afraid to think about it. “Where do I find one? I want a good one. The right one.”

He had no idea how to know which one would be the right one. Surely all kittens were nice, but how did he find the one that would be the loving friend Macie wanted?

“I have no idea. I know, not what you wanted to hear. But I have my sources. Let me make a few calls and talk to some friends. I’ll get back to you.”

“Mom, you’re fantastic.”

“Don’t I know it,” she agreed happily.

Relieved, he turned the conversation to what was going on in his parents’ lives. He listened while he wiped down the table and started sorting clothes in the laundry room. Wind gusted against the side of the house, and the last of the sunlight bled from the sky. He said goodbye to his mom and lit a fire in the fireplace. By the time the new storm’s first snowflakes fell, the Kramer house felt warm and snug. This was as good as life got, he thought, watching his daughter sleep. He couldn’t ask for anything more.

Chapter Four

The weekend flew by. Chelsea barely had time to breathe settling in at home—unpacking her car, putting up the rest of the lights and then there was church on Sunday. Monday morning blew in with a fresh accumulation of snow and a storm that sent snow drifting over roads and made the mile drive into town challenging. She pulled into the little parking lot behind Dr. Swift’s medical clinic ten minutes late. Totally hating being late, she shoved open her door, hauled her bag from the passenger seat, slipped on a sheet of ice and landed on her bottom.

Great. Just great. Cold seeped through her wool slacks as she levered back onto her feet, grabbed her keys and prayed Dr. Swift wouldn’t be too unhappy with her. He’d been clear. Staff meeting starts at seven-thirty. Halfway to the door she noticed a reflection in a glass window. Her headlights. Double great. With a sigh, she tromped back through the snow. Hurry, hurry, hurry. This was no way to start her first day of work for the man she’d looked up to all her life. Steve Swift was not only her new boss but her longtime mentor. He’d encouraged her in her studies and he’d been there for their family when Mom had fallen ill—

Her right foot slipped, she went down on her knees in the same ice patch she’d fallen in earlier. Fabulous. So, maybe she was missing Seattle’s rain just a little. She pulled herself up holding on to the door handle, unlocked her car, turned off the lights and trekked back through the snow. Really, the day had to get better from here, right?

Her cell chimed the moment she set foot through the back door. Warmth enfolded her, chasing away the chill as she fished her phone out of her bag. A text message stared up at her.

Hope your first day goes well, sweetheart, her father had written. I know you’ll do great.

That was her dad, always there for her.

Thanks. She hit Send, smiling as she unwound her scarf, imagining him at work at the vet clinic, cradling a cup of coffee and carrying on a conversation with any animals who happened to be in the kennels.

She unwrapped her scarf and her phone chimed again. Not Dad this time.

Praying UR first day is fabulous! Johanna’s words marched across her screen cheerfully. Meg says U go, girl!

Okay, this was the upside of sisterhood. Maybe being back in Wyoming wasn’t so bad. She unbuttoned her coat, shrugged out of it and tapped out an answer. So far I haven’t broken a leg. Have a great day, 2. Dinner tonight?

At Jeff’s Diner, Johanna answered. Six o’clock. UR treat.

MY treat? She texted back.

Becuz U love me and because I’m broke.

Hard to argue with that. She’d missed her sisters living so far away. Weather aside, it really was good to be back.

The door swung open without warning. Snow blew in like a blizzard, borne on a strong gust. A tall man dressed in black shouldered in, his silhouette strangely familiar. A dark knit hat hid his sandy-brown hair and for a moment the snow shielded his face, but she knew him even before he rammed the door shut.

Michael Kramer. Doctor Michael Kramer.

“What are you doing here?” she asked before her brain kicked in. “Wait, don’t answer that. Let me guess. You work here.”

“Guilty.” He tugged off his hat. He smelled like snow and pine. Very Christmassy. Very nice. “My name is on the stationery, at least it was the last time I checked. Are you here to see one of the other doctors?”

“See one? No, I work here. I’m the new—”

“Pediatrician.” He blinked in surprise, his gray matter suddenly stuck in neutral. Why hadn’t he guessed it? Maybe because when he’d first met Chelsea McKaslin, he’d had his daughter’s broken arm on his mind. The second time he’d met her, it had taken most of his mental acuity not to dwell on how beautiful she was. “Right. Guess I should have known.”

“So, you didn’t read the memo?” Blue eyes sparkled up at him, bright with humor.

Yeah, he deserved it. “I’m focused, I admit it. I’d rather practice medicine than the business of medicine.”

“I hear you there.” She swiped a lock of light chestnut hair out of her eyes. Melting snow clung to her like a tiara, twinkling in the light. “Steve hired me last month.”

“That explains it.” He led the way down the narrow hall, flipped on a bank of lights and clipped into the break room. No scent of coffee met him. The machine was dark, the lights off. Looked like everyone was running late this morning due to the worsening storm. “I’m just here two days a week. I’m in Jackson the other three. Must have missed the official announcement.”

“Working here has always been my plan since I was a kid.” She seemed at home as she plopped her bag on the edge of the central table and fished out a plastic lunch container. “Steve must be running late?”

“Late? No, he—” He shook his head, realizing he was watching her sweep over to the refrigerator like she’d caught his eyes with a tractor beam. Stop looking, Michael. He yanked open a closet door and shrugged off his snowy coat. “Something tells me you didn’t hear the news.”

“No.” She plopped her lunch on a rack and closed the fridge door. Concern gentled her eyes so blue they were almost lilac. “What about news?”

“Steve went snowmobiling on Saturday and had a run-in with a tree.” Why couldn’t he stop looking at her?

“Uh-oh, that’s never good.” She waltzed toward him, slipping out of her winter coat. Her slim eyebrows knit together, her heart-shaped face wreathing with the same tender caring as when she’d been helping injured Macie at the cemetery. “Is he okay?”

“Other than a broken femur, sure.”

“He broke his leg?” Her eyebrows shot up, her jaw dropped open. “Oh, no, is he looking at surgery?”

“Apparently it’s not indicated, but you know the saying, doctors make the worst patients. Steve might not be telling the whole truth. He left a message on my phone last night.” He jammed his coat on a hanger and rammed it onto the rod. A faint knock brought him up short. Sounded like someone at the front door. “I’ll check it out. What are the chances it’s him and he forgot his keys?”

“High, I’d say.” That would be just like the tough, seasoned doctor to come to work when he should be on bed rest. Alone in the room, she slipped her coat around a hanger and hung it up. The silence gave her a moment to digest new developments. So, she’d be working with Michael. Awesome.

Her phone chimed again. When she checked the screen, she smiled at Sara Beth’s message. I know you’ll work 2 hard today. Don’t forget to take a little time and enjoy the moment. U R a doctor now, Chels. Just like you’ve always dreamed.

Yes, it was a dream, she thought, checking out the coffeemaker. It was prepped and ready to go, so she hit the switch. As it gurgled to life, spitting and popping, she shrugged on her white coat and took a moment to savor the feeling. She’d accomplished one goal—getting here—and now it was time to work toward another, which was being the best doctor she knew how to be.

“Dr. McKaslin?” Michael’s voice rang down the hall. He held open the waiting room door for someone, his face a professional, granite mask. Obviously in doctor mode. “We have a patient. Could you take a look at her? Her regular doctor, Dr. Benedict, isn’t in yet.”

Goody. Trying not to do a Snoopy dance, Chelsea plunged her hands into her coat pockets and said in her most doctorlike voice to the woman stooped over in the doorway, “I’ll be happy to help you.”

“The snowblower broke, so I had to shovel our driveway,” the young mother explained, stooped over. Snow clung to her blond curly hair and a toddler clutched her right hand. “Bad idea. My back seized up and look at me. I’m bent over like a capital C. I was on my way to the hospital but the last thing I want to do is wait in the emergency room with Lily, since it’s flu season. Then I saw your lights on. You have no idea how grateful I am.”

“Glad we can help.” Chelsea shoved open the door to the first examining room she came to. “Come on in and let’s see what’s going on.”

“Bless you.” Mom and adorable tot ambled into the room.

Probably a muscle spasm, Chelsea reasoned, but she’d need X-rays to be sure there was no disk injury. She turned to Michael, but he was already gone, pacing down the corridor toward the front office with his shoulders braced and spine straight, likely to fetch the patient’s file. She couldn’t explain why she was even watching him. There was something about the man’s effect on her she didn’t entirely like.

* * *

“You were such a brave girl.” After a long day of doctoring, Chelsea held the bowl of Tootsie Pops for Alicia Wigginsworth so she could pick a flavor. Tootsie Pops were a tradition for Dr. Swift’s little patients, and now for hers. “Grape is my favorite, too.”

Alicia nodded in shy agreement before burying her face in her mother’s shoulder.

“Thanks, Dr. McKaslin.” Mrs. Wigginsworth patted her child’s back comfortingly. “Tell Dr. Swift I’m praying for a speedy recovery.”

“I will.” She opened the examining room door, chart in hand. “The injection site may be a little sore for a few days. If her fever doesn’t start heading down, call. You know the drill.”

“I do. I’ll let you know if there are any problems,” the mom promised as she stepped into the hallway.

“Goodbye, Alicia.” She waved at her patient, who watched her with tear-filled eyes over her mom’s shoulder. It wasn’t easy being little, or being the one who had to give a shot, but in a few days’ time the sweet little girl should be feeling a whole lot better.

The after-hours corridor echoed as the door to the waiting room whispered shut. The vague, muffled conversation between Mrs. Wigginsworth and Audra at the front desk were the loudest sounds in the echoing hallway.

“Looks like you made it through your first day unscathed.” Dr. Susan Benedict emerged from the break room, slipping into her winter coat. She was a young doctor, a few years out of residency, tall and slender with lovely long ebony curls. “Congratulations. Especially considering it was one of those days. Everyone tripped, fell, shoveled too much, caught a bug or slid off the road.”

“No kidding. I was so busy, I didn’t realize I’d missed lunch until a few hours ago. Crazy, but I loved it.” She rolled her stethoscope and slipped it back into the pocket of her white coat. “That was clever of Steve to run the staff meeting off the computer.”