Jingle Bell Bride

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.”

“Praise the Lord for video chat. It’s going to be interesting to see how long Steve can hold out and not come into the office.” Susan’s amber eyes twinkled as she tugged warm gloves out of her coat pockets. “Thanks for seeing my patient this morning. Word is that Lenore is home, icing and heating just like you ordered. The muscle relaxant seems to be helping.”

“Good to hear. You’re heading out?”

“While I can. That’s one thing you’ve got to learn straight off. When the coast is clear, run for it or the phone will ring, someone will knock on the door or something will happen and you’ll be stuck here for another hour.” Susan offered a warm smile. “It’s a great profession, but it can take over everything if you aren’t careful. And since the coast is clear, I’m heading out. I’ll see you tomorrow, Chelsea.”

“Have a lovely evening.” She headed down the hall toward her office, smiling. She wasn’t alone in the clinic. Audra was still finishing up in front and a few doctors were finishing up their chart work. Michael was one of them, his office door firmly shut against intrusion.

She hadn’t exchanged another word with him through the day. She’d been so focused on her work and so had he. It was just as well because that’s where her attention needed to be. With a sigh, she waltzed into her office, small and impersonal, with just a desk, a computer and a phone. A small window looked out on the back lot where her car was covered by a foot of snow.

Her pocket chimed, the sound kick-starting a part of her brain that had gone dormant. Her sisters! Dinner. Yikes! What time was it? No clock in her office, so she hauled out her phone. Her eyes zeroed in at the time on the screen. Six-twelve. She was twelve minutes late!

Where R U? Meg’s text stared up at her accusingly. We’re waiting.

I’m coming! She tapped in, hit Send and fished a pen out of her coat pocket. She scribbled a note on Alicia’s chart, rushed down the hallway and slid the chart across the back counter in the receptionist’s direction. “Thanks, I gotta go.”

“Have a nice evening.” Audra shoved a lock of auburn hair out of her eyes. “Careful. The last few patients said it’s really icy out there.”

“Thanks for the heads-up.” She dashed into the break room, grabbed her uneaten lunch from the fridge, her bag from the shelf and shrugged into her coat. A few wraps of her scarf so it was snug around her neck and she was out the door.

One foot slid out from under her, but since she still had hold of the doorknob, she had something to hold on to. She managed to stay upright, but Audra hadn’t been kidding!

Slow down, Chelsea, she told herself, something Mom used to say. As she picked her way across the dangerously slick parking lot, she could hear her mother’s voice in memory. Chelsea McKaslin, slow down. You’ll always get where you’re meant to be. God will make sure of it, so stop rushing.

She missed Mom’s advice, even if she hadn’t always agreed with it. She brushed falling snow off her cheek, wishing she could turn back time so she could see her mom again and hear those words in person.

A few more steps brought her to her buried car. Wait, correct that. Her seriously buried car. It would take time and effort to dig out the poor thing. This was a total disaster. She hated being late! Grumbling to herself, she dug her phone out of her pocket. Her thick winter gloves didn’t make it easy to type out a message.

Car under tons of snow. Order without me. She hit Send and her phone chirped sadly. It wasn’t able to get a strong enough signal to send in the thickly falling snow.

Great. She jammed her phone into her bag, studying the monstrous white lump her car had become. Where to start? And with what? The little ice scraper under the front seat wasn’t up to this job.

“Looks like you have a problem.” A smoky baritone broke through the snowfall.

“Michael.” Impossible to see him through the storm’s thick white veil. Wait—there he was. A hint of muscled shoulders, a shadow in the downfall and she ordered her pulse to stay calm. “Are you always one of the first here and the last to leave?”

“Depends on the day.” He broke out of the storm, swathed in black and dotted with snow. “Do you need help?”

“Nope, I can get it.” She’d learned a long time ago to be wary of dudes offering “help.” Wasn’t that how she’d met Nick? Another total disaster. “I’m just figuring out my best strategy.”