Their Mistletoe Baby Page 6

  ‘There wasn’t much left over, which means we don’t have to worry about any picky eaters not getting enough nutrition. I think everyone worked up quite an appetite out there today.’ Lucas folded the tea towel and set it neatly on the counter. He’d always been tidy and not one of those men who insisted on leaving wet towels on the floor or a general trail of mess behind him. With more than a hint of sadness Freya realised he’d never expected her to pick up after him as though she were some sort of replacement parent, had never needed her to look after him. The single life probably suited him better than marriage.

  ‘Now we just have to entertain them for a while until they’re finally worn out,’ Gillian said with the waning enthusiasm of someone whose energy had deserted her before the evening programme.

  ‘There are a stack of board games for those who want to play, and I have a Christmas CD for a good old sing-along before bed.’ It was coming to that time of the evening when they were going to split into their gender-specific groups for bedtime and, tired though she was, Freya wasn’t ready for the day to be over. There’d been a truce of sorts between her and Lucas but she couldn’t promise tomorrow would be the same once she’d had the night to dwell on events.

  ‘I brought some things that might help pass the time too.’ Lucas cleared his throat, and though it wasn’t a surprise he’d be opposed to the singing idea, she and Gillian were stunned into silence with the idea he’d come up with an alternative.

  ‘If you can get everybody assembled around the table, I’ll pop over to the other cabin to grab my supplies.’ Without giving them a chance to quiz him about what exactly he had in mind, he disappeared into the night and left them no choice but to follow his instruction.

  As they gathered the group together, Freya had some reservations about whether or not he was going to deliver something to match the kids’ excitement. Or if he would even come back at all. Her residual trust issues were sufficient that she was only able to relax when he kept his word and did eventually return, carrying supplies.

  ‘Arts and crafts?’ she enquired as he unloaded packages onto the table.

  ‘A little something I made earlier.’ He looked so pleased with himself it was impossible not to trust he might have something pretty cool up his sleeve after all.

  ‘Gingerbread men?’ Gillian was the first to inspect the pre-cut cardboard shapes, her discovery drawing Freya’s attention sharply.

  ‘I thought we could have some fun decorating them.’ Sure enough, he provided glue sticks and coloured felt pens to everyone waiting eagerly around the table. Bright buttons and tubes of glitter soon followed, along with a selection of googly eyes to add some personality to the 2D characters.

  ‘What a great idea.’ Such a great idea, Gillian was soon abandoning Freya to get stuck in herself.

  ‘It really was very thoughtful of you.’ She had to acknowledge what he’d done when there was so much meaning to her personally behind the ordinarily simple gesture.

  Not only did this signify he’d thought ahead for the children, disproving her earlier theory that this change in him could be an act, but perhaps also showing an attempt to make up for snubbing the activity last Christmas. He would’ve known how much this one small act of kindness would mean to her and damn it if the sight of naked gingerbread men and buttons didn’t bring a tear to her eye.

  ‘I know it’s not the same as decorating freshly baked gingerbread but I thought this was something we could all enjoy instead of leaving out anyone with special dietary requirements. I’m sorry you missed out last year.’ He left her in no doubt that he’d been thinking about her as much as the children before going to lend a helping hand to those who couldn’t quite manage on their own.

  Freya was mesmerised by the picture of him in the middle of the children, concentrating on producing a smiling symbol of everything he’d once despised. It was both heart-warming and heartbreaking to watch when it was all she’d ever wanted for him as much as for herself. They might’ve been doing this with children of their own if they’d stuck things out a little longer, but they would never know for sure and it certainly wouldn’t help her sanity to keep imagining the family that didn’t exist.

  Lucas glanced up and caught her watching him, but instead of looking away, embarrassed by the attention, he held her gaze and offered a poignant half-smile in return. The regret over what they’d lost was there in his sad blue eyes as much as it was in her flip-flopping stomach. Perhaps if they’d worked harder on their marriage they could’ve eventually found this level of contentment together.

  ‘Can I have a drink? I’m really thirsty.’ Hope tugged on Freya’s jumper and helped break the meaningful eye contact that was already putting her in danger of falling for Lucas’s charm offensive a second time.

  One day back in his company and she was already in turmoil. Another twenty-four hours and she dreaded to think what more havoc he might wreak on her bewildered heart.

  ‘Sure. Have you finished colouring?’ Freya ushered the more deserving cause for her attention towards the kitchen area to pour her a glass of water.

  ‘Uh-huh. I’m going to take it home for my mummy. I don’t feel well.’

  Freya knelt down to take a closer look at the little girl. ‘You are a little pale. We should go and check your blood sugar, sweetheart, just to make sure you’re okay.’

  ‘I want to go to bed,’ Hope whined, at the prospect of the finger-prick test, but it really was important they check her levels before they let her sleep.

  It had been a long day and there was always a risk of hyperglycaemia with the increased physical activity and change in routine for her. If left untreated, high blood sugar could lead to a medical emergency—ketoacidosis, a lack of insulin, or dehydration. Her sudden thirst and tiredness were symptoms Freya would not take a risk of ignoring.

  ‘I know, and you will, as soon as we do a quick test.’ She took Hope’s hand and ushered her towards the door, stopping briefly to have a quiet word with Lucas on the way.

  ‘Could you please keep Hope’s gingerbread man safe for her? She’s feeling quite thirsty all of a sudden, and tired.’ There was no need to panic the others but it was enough information to galvanise the medical lead on this trip.

  As she led Hope towards the dorm she could hear Lucas making arrangements for someone else to watch over Scarlett and making his excuses to leave.

  Freya helped Hope get ready for bed, made sure her hands were clean and the BM machine was calibrated before she attempted to draw a sample of blood.

  ‘I’m just going to check your blood-sugar level to calculate how much insulin I might need to give you to make sure you feel better. This will be all over in a second.’ Even though she went through this every day, it was important Freya reminded her whimpering patient what she was doing and why they were doing it as she pricked her finger.

  ‘You are such a brave girl. I’m sure Father Christmas is going to have a special present for you tomorrow.’

  Freya squeezed the tip of her finger until there was enough blood to drip onto the testing strip.

  ‘Are you done yet?’ Hope squirmed on the bed next to her as Freya inserted the test strip into the handheld device for analysis.

  ‘Almost. I just need you to hold this on your finger for me.’ Freya pressed a cotton ball onto the skin to prevent further bleeding while she disposed of the lancet into the sharps bin.

  Unfortunately, the results were, as she suspected, high enough to give cause for concern.

  ‘Knock. Knock.’ Lucas gave a courtesy tap on the door before he walked in anyway.

  ‘Hey.’ Freya handed him the blood analysis and shifted on the bed to make room for him. After all, he was the doctor in charge and not merely the man she was afraid of being too close to again.

  She saw the clench of his teeth with the unfavourable result but he quickly resum
ed his perfect bedside manner for the little girl trying to burrow down under her bed sheets.

  ‘I know you’re tired and out of sorts, Hope, but you know we only want to keep you safe. Right?’

  She nodded solemnly.

  ‘Good girl. We can’t let you sleep just yet but...I did bring a very special book to read to you before bedtime.’ He produced a colourful, sparkly hardboard book from his medical bag, along with her notes and her insulin.

  Freya tried to sneak a glance at the title—something about a very forgetful elf—as she tidied away Hope’s discarded clothes and tried to suppress a grin. He really had planned ahead.

  She folded the small pair of waterproof trousers over her arm, only for a torrent of half-eaten food and sweet wrappers to fall from the pockets onto the floor.

  ‘What on earth—?’

  Both adults stared at the evidence of a serious food binge before turning to the tiny culprit currently hugging her knees on the bed.

  ‘Hope? Did you eat all this extra food when we weren’t looking?’ Lucas kept his voice soft enough not to spook Hope any further while Freya collected the remnants of Hope’s ill-gotten gains from the floor. Some of the food had obviously been pocketed from the buffet at dinner but the chocolate-bar wrappers looked suspiciously like the ones she’d seen some of the other children with earlier.

  Hope hugged her knees tighter and hid her face with her hair.

  ‘You’re not in trouble. We just need to know if that’s what’s making your poorly.’ Freya threw the rubbish in the bin. She’d take it with her to dispose of later so as not to leave further temptation behind.

  There was an almost imperceptible nod and Freya brushed the child’s hair from her eyes so they could see her properly. Hope nodded again.

  ‘Thank you for telling us. It’s very important we know what you’ve eaten today so we can work out what medicine to give you.’ Lucas remained very calm, even though he must’ve been as concerned as Freya to discover the extra food consumption, which meant they would have to adjust the dose of insulin to be administered. By not overreacting to this slip-up, it prevented Hope from getting further stressed, which wouldn’t have helped matters.

  They were going to be in for a long night of monitoring her condition to make sure no medical emergency arose as a result of her little rebellion. It was only natural a child would want to help themselves to sweets and treats they weren’t usually allowed but in Hope’s case it could cause much more than a stomach ache. They had to point out the importance of sticking to the rules without scaring her too much.

  Lecture over, Lucas afforded Freya another moment of his attention. ‘I can stay here with Hope through the night if you’d like. I’ll give her her insulin and I’m happy to pull up a chair for the night if you want to see to Scarlett. We have a book to read anyway, don’t we, Hope?’ Lucas distracted Hope away from the night ahead of blood tests and injections with the shiny promise of his one-to-one attention. He’d honed that diversionary skill to perfection but at least he was using it for the greater good on this occasion.

  ‘Are you sure?’ She knew they couldn’t both stay here when they had the responsibility of Scarlett’s condition and medication to supervise too, but she hadn’t expected such a display of magnanimity from him.

  ‘Of course. You get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.’

  Freya stepped out of the bedroom and took a deep, shaky breath to recover some of the composure she was threatening to lose as he started reading to his captivated audience. This warm, caring side of him was exactly why she’d fallen in love with him. It was lovely to see this grown man relaxed and giving his time to comfort a child, but it also made her wonder why he hadn’t been able to extend that compassion to her for the duration of their marriage.

  * * *

  Freya woke early and, after checking on the girls, made her way into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. She’d been so physically and mentally drained she’d fallen asleep in her clothes but it hadn’t been a peaceful slumber by any means. Her thoughts had been with her husband in the other room; dreams of the perfect Christmas they should’ve had together and memories of the painful reality. Most disturbing of all had been the erotic nature their reunion had taken in her subconscious until she’d woken, breathless and a tad frustrated. At least she’d managed to resist tucking a blanket around him as an excuse to touch the real version when she’d peeked into the room and found him sleeping in one of the hard kitchen chairs.

  She poured herself a strong shot of caffeine and carried it into the lounge area. It was still dark outside but she was comforted by the sound of the fire still crackling in the hearth. Without the trappings of modern life out here in the wilds and the constant hum of technology around her there was a peacefulness she’d usually welcome before the start of what could prove to be another long day. She pulled the warm wool blanket off the sofa and tucked it around her feet, sipped her drink and watched the flames flicker in the fireplace but she just couldn’t seem to relax. It was only when Lucas walked into the room that she realised it was because she’d been on tenterhooks, waiting to see him again.

  This was more than anxiety creeping through her body at the prospect of finally finding out what had prompted their separation in the first place. She found she was actually looking forward to being in his company again. Regardless of how things had ended between them, switching her feelings off for him hadn’t been as straightforward as she’d imagined.

  Even now her pulse fluttered as he walked into the living room the same way it used to when they’d crossed paths at work. When she had been unable to help the attraction to him but had known it was trouble waiting to happen. Some things never changed.

  There was a moment as he walked into the open-plan dining room/living room when he seemed to be looking for someone, or something. Vanity and that unwavering ache in her heart wanted it to be her.

  ‘Oh...er...hi. You’re up early.’ He did a double take as he spotted her on the sofa and his relaxed smile when he saw her appeared to prove her fancy correct.

  ‘Sorry—did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet.’

  ‘Not at all. I smelt the coffee.’ He sniffed the air, hot on the scent of his same beverage of choice.

  ‘There’s plenty in the pot.’ She pointed him in the right direction while she took a moment to appreciate his rumpled clothes and tousled hair. It was doubtful he’d had any more of a restful sleep than she had but he looked good on it. Damn him.

  ‘How’s Scarlett?’ He came to sit with her and it took a second for the implication of that to sink in. They were going to spend more enforced time together, alone and uninterrupted. As much as they probably needed to, the prospect made her wish she’d had a nip of whisky in her coffee to fortify her for the inevitable rehashing of events.

  ‘She was fast asleep in seconds. No problems at all.’ It was the truth, even if she felt a little guilty about probably having an easier night than he’d had.

  ‘Good. Good. Hope’s last blood-sugar check was normal, so she was able to get some rest in the end too.’

  Now that they’d established both of their patients were healthy and safe, tense anticipation seemed to fill the sudden conversational void between them. There was never going to be a better opportunity for them this weekend to work out their issues in private, if either of them were ready for it.

  Although if his apparent disregard for her feelings had remained unchanged from their last days together, she doubted he’d have come down and risked spending time alone with her. He knew her well enough to know she’d want answers now more than ever.

  As torturous as this would be, she needed to understand the reasons behind the failure of the relationship so she could either learn from her mistakes or point the finger of blame somewhere other than at the mirror. There was no point in letting this fester and spoi
l another Christmas for both of them.

  * * *

  Any other man probably should’ve been cringing at the idea of having an in-depth conversation with his ex about what had led to their break-up. Not least because of her initial, understandable reaction to seeing him on the plane for the first time. Instead, Lucas had found himself restlessly wishing the night away so he could finally clear the air with Freya.

  He knew they’d had a breakthrough in their frosty relationship with her apparent acceptance of his apology and their prolonged eye contact over his craft project. Hope suddenly taking ill had been the much-needed antidote to letting Freya get too far into his system again, though he’d have preferred a less stressful alternative for all of their sakes. Now they were alone together there was so much he needed to say to her, he didn’t know where to begin.

  He drained his still-hot coffee, taking the top layer of skin from the roof of his mouth, and walked over to rinse his cup in the sink, stalling for time in the hope appropriate words would somehow form in his mouth during the short trip back to his seat.

  ‘They did a good job with the decorations, didn’t they?’ He flicked one of the silver baubles carefully hung on the tree in the corner of the room.

  Freya nodded. ‘It looks lovely. Very well-coordinated.’

  She was being very diplomatic in the face of his epic procrastination. He knew her taste ran more towards colourful and as gaudy as possible. The twinkling white fairy lights and fragile decorations strung around the real Christmas tree were very pretty but a far cry from her eclectic collection of tat, which leaned more towards sentimentality than any aesthetic purpose. He’d heard her call this kind of sparse display as cold and clinical before and it wouldn’t fit in with her penchant for chubby sugar plum fairies and handmade ornaments she hoarded from local craft fairs.

  ‘I imagine it’s a dream come true for you too, being in the midst of all this.’ He gestured towards the garlands and stockings adorning the fireplace, which were more homely and in keeping with her style of storybook decor.