One Night Before Christmas

“I’ll see that he’s well taken care of. Thanks, John,” Melanie said.

Half an hour later, Melanie sucked in her breath when she looked out the hospital sliding glass door. Snow fell so thickly that she could just make out the cars in the parking lot. “The snow has really picked up.”

Their driver waited under the pickup area with the engine running. Dr. Reynolds, always the gentleman, allowed her to get in the backseat first. Wincing as he bent to climb in, he joined her. He reached out to pull the door closed and groaned.

“Let me help.” She leaned across him. Her chest brushed his as she stretched. His body heat mixed with the air blasting out of the car vents, making her too warm. He smelled like a fir after a misty rain. She stopped herself from inhaling. Using her fingertips, she managed to pull the door closed. His breath brushed her cheek as she sat up again, causing her midsection to flutter.

The windshield wipers swished back and forth in a rapid movement but the snow continued to pile up on the glass. She glanced at Dr. Reynolds. His shoulders were hunched and he was peering out with a concerned look on his face.

“Normal?” The word came out with a wince.

“We get a lot of snow here. We’re used to it. Looks like we’ll have a white Christmas, with it only being seven days off.” She tried to make the last sentence sound upbeat. In pain, he took on an almost boyish look that had her heart going out to him.

He leaned back and closed his eyes. “Only thing white at Christmastime where I come from is the beach.”

That didn’t sound all that festive to her. Snow, a green tree, a warm fire and people you loved surrounding you was what she thought Christmas should be. She loved this time of the year.

The driver had the radio playing low and after the song finished the announcer came on. “Fellow Niagarans, it’s a white one out there. The good news is the roads are still passable and the airport open. But not sure it will be tomorrow. The storm isn’t over yet.”

Dalton moaned.

“I’m sorry for this inconvenience, Dr. Reynolds. Maybe in a few days you’ll be up to going home,” Melanie said in a sympathetic tone.

And she wouldn’t be nursemaiding him anymore. She needed to talk to her father about what her duties as team doctor entailed. It would probably be a waste of time; he’d never listened to her in the past and wasn’t likely to do so now.

* * *

Dalton questioned if the stars were aligned against him. He was stuck in Niagara Falls longer than he’d planned. Too long for his comfort. The driver pulled under the awning of the Lodge. Dalton opened the door despite the pain it brought and climbed out. It wasn’t until he turned to close the door that he saw Dr. Hyde getting out.

“What’re you doing?” he muttered through tightly clamped teeth.

“I’m going to stay and see about you tonight.”

“What?”

“Didn’t you hear the doctor? You need someone to check on you regularly over the next twenty-four hours.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“For heaven’s sakes, can we go inside to argue about this?”

Without another word, he turned and pulled open the door to the Lodge. He had to admit it required a great deal of effort to do so.

She came to stand beside him. “You obviously need help. I feel guilty enough about you getting hurt. The least I can do is make sure you’re okay.”

His look met hers for the first time since they’d left the hospital. He wasn’t used to seeing concern for him in anyone’s eyes. He tried to take a deep breath. Pain shot through his side. He reluctantly said, “I would appreciate help.”

“Then let’s go try to make you as comfortable as you can be with those ribs. The elevator is over this way.” They walked across the lobby.

“Not going to make me climb the stairs?” Each word pained him but he couldn’t stop himself from making the comment.

She glared at him. “I thought your ribs hurt too much to speak.”

He started to laugh and immediately wrapped his arms across his chest.

They rode the elevator up and walked to the room. At the door Melanie took out a room key.

“You have a key to my room?” Dalton asked with a hint of suspicion.

“I was given one when we knew you were coming so I could check on the room before you arrived.” She slid the plastic card in the slot and opened the door. “I’m sure you’re ready to lie down. I’ll call for some food.”

“Are you always so bossy?”

Melanie dropped her pocketbook into the closest chair. “I guess I am when it comes to taking care of my patients.”

Dalton started toward the bedroom. “I’m not one of your patients.”

“You are for the next twenty-four hours.”

He wasn’t pleased with the arrangements. Still, something about having her concerned for him gave him an unfamiliar warm feeling. He’d never had anyone’s total focus before. Mrs. Richie had been the only foster mother who came close to doing that, but he hadn’t been there long before he heard her telling the social worker that it would be better for him to move to another house. After that he’d never let another woman know he hurt or see him in need. He made sure his relationships with women were short and remained at arm’s length. All physical and no emotional involvement was the way he liked to keep things.

Dalton crossed the living space and circled one of the sofas that faced each other on his way to the bedroom on the left. There was another room on the opposite side of the large living area. He would leave that one for Melanie. Giving a brief glance to the minibar/kitchen area on the same side of the suite as the extra bedroom, he kept walking.

He ached all over. His jaw hurt from clamping his teeth in an effort not to show the amount of pain he was in. He’d learned as a child that if you let them see your weakness, they would use it against you. Now all he wanted to do was get a hot shower and go to bed.

Kicking off his shoes, he started to remove his knit pullover shirt and pain exploded through his side, taking his breath. For once in his life he had no choice but to ask for help. When his breath returned he opened the door and said, “Dr. Hyde?”

Melanie jumped up from the chair. She must have been watching for him. Hurrying toward him, her eyes were filled with concern, “Are you all right?”

“I need help with my shirt.”

She stepped close. “Why do you need to take it off? You could lie down with it on.”

“Shower.”

“Oh.”

“Help?”

“Sure. Sure.” She didn’t sound too confident as she followed him back into the room. When he stopped at the bed she reached for the hem of his shirt. Her blue eyes met his. There was a twinkle in her eyes when she said, “You know I’m usually on a first-name basis with people I help undress. You can feel free to call me Mel.”

Was she flirting with him? “You said Melanie.”

She gave him a questioning look.

“That’s what you told me to call you after we were hit. You can call me Dalton.”

“Dalton—” she said it as if she were testing the sound of it on her lips “—hold real still.” She gathered the shirt until she had it under his arms.