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The Best Laid Plans...
Finishing medical school at the top of her class, Chelsea McKaslin always achieves her goals. Now back home in Sunshine, Wyoming, her Christmas goal is to succeed as a pediatrician. In no way do her plans include Dr. Michael Kramer, despite the fact that hes everywhere she turns. The standoffish widower keeps his distance from her, as if to protect his adorable daughter and himself. Yet the spirit of the season prevails. Soon Chelsea is bonding with little Macieand her handsome daddy. Will these three hearts thaw in time for Christmas?
Guess this means well be working together.
I guess so. Chelseas chest tied up in all kinds of knots. Was this good news or bad? Her hand shook as she secured the last string of Christmas lights, leaving a good six inches dangling free.
I knew Denny was adding a pediatrician to the practice, but I didnt know it was you, Michael said.
Its been planned for a long time. Denny was my moms doctor.
I understand. For a moment, his friendly but cool reserve vanished and the understanding she read in the shadows of his gentle gaze made her defenses stumble. He was a good man, and the smallest of wishes flickered to life against her will, wishes for a strong, good man she could count on.
Not going to happen, she told herself with a twist of regret.
Not that she wanted the hassle of a relationship, she told herself firmly and wrestled the wish away. She had a plan. No involvements, no romance, no wishing for a love that could not be.
Her No Man plan.
About the Author
JILLIAN HART grew up on her familys homestead, where she helped raise cattle, rode horses and scribbled stories in her spare time. After earning her English degree from Whitman College, she worked in travel and advertising before selling her first novel. When Jillian isnt working on her next story, she can be found puttering in her rose garden, curled up with a good book or spending quiet evenings at home with her family.
Jingle Bell Bride
Jillian Hart
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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To Chelsea Tripp, DVM, DACVIM
God is the Lord, and He has given us light.
Psalms 118:27
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Questions for Discussion
Teaser Chapter
Chapter One
Snow tumbled from an unforgiving sky, icy against her cheek as Chelsea McKaslin knelt in the small towns cemetery. The marker was simple, the white marble hard to read in the falling twilight and the accumulating snow. She swept away the fluffy inches of flakes from the gravestone with her fingertips, her hand-knit crimson mittens a vivid splash of color in a white, gray and dark evening. Ever since her mother had passed on, the world hadnt seemed as kind or as colorful.
Hi, Mom. She laid pink carnations on the headstone, where the name Jessica Elizabeth McKaslin was etched, beloved wife and mother. Its me, Chelsea. Ive missed coming to see you, but I did what you asked. I finished my residency. I stuck it out. It was tough, the last thing I wanted to do after you were gone, but I did it.
More than anything she wishedshe prayedthat her mother could hear her. That her words could lift through the airy snowfall and rise up to heaven as if on angels wings. Her faith had been tested over the two years of Moms sickness and death, but it remained strong. She still believed. Somewhere her mother was looking down at her and smiling. Her love lived on. Maybe it was in the soft brush of snowflakes against Chelseas cheek or the whisper behind the wind, so light it was barely audible. She liked to think so.
Christmas is not the same without you. She could hope it would be better than last year with the gaping, painful hole in their lives and in their family. No one and nothing could ever fill the void. Sara Beth and Meg plan to fix our traditional dinner this year. Johanna has her heart set on a tree. Were all pooling our gift money to start a scholarship in your name.
The electronic jingle of her cell penetrated her wool coats outer pocket. She fumbled for it, the mittens thickness and the numbing cold making her fingers clumsy. The number on the luminous display came as no surprise.
Im almost home, she said, squinting as the snowfall thickened, beating against her face.
I was worried. Her youngest sisters voice sounded crackly. Reception was terrible because of the storm. Ive been keeping an eye on the clock and the weather report. Half the county roads are closed, and you should have been here twenty minutes ago. Where are you?
Safe. I had to stop by and visit Mom.
Johannas silence said it all. Understanding zoomed across the line, the static unable to diminish the strong bond between them. Chelsea didnt have to explain how shed been needing this place of connection to their mother.
The roads are getting worse by the minute, Johanna reminded her gently. I want you home safely.
Thats my plan. Chelsea was good with plans. They had always been her strong suit.
She took comfort in a logical world, in compiling pro and con lists and puzzling out the road ahead. Once sure of her destination, she gave all she had into getting there. Thats how she had gotten accepted to med school and won a coveted residency position. Shed always taken to heart the Bible passage: a man chooses his path and God directs his steps.
Im leaving right now, she promised.
Good, because they are about to close Grimes Road. I thought you might want a heads-up, that is, if you want to sleep in your old bed tonight.
You know I do. Home. There was no place like it. Shed had her own apartment for years, but her familys piece of the Wyoming rangeland would always be her real home. Full of memories of love and laughter, made more special this time of year. Christmas had always been done right at the McKaslin household. She thought of her mom, how she always used to be waiting to welcome her daughters, cooking and baking up a storm. They all gained ten pounds every visit, especially if they werent careful.
It was hard to think of opening the front door and not seeing her there. Chelsea pocketed her phone, realizing she was shivering. The arctic cold sliced through her coat like a razor, chilling her to the bone. She faced into the wind, blind as the snowflakes struck her with a worsening fury. She really did need to get home while she could.
Snow squeaked beneath her boots as she hiked around headstones and across the rippled sheen of snow accumulating in the parking lot. Security spotlights glowed like tiny moons hovering overhead, their light eerie and veiled. At least she would get her snow fix. She didnt miss Seattles gray drizzle, not one bit, as she knocked snow off her cars windows. Home was all she could think about, her sisters waiting for her, the front door swinging open and Johanna launching out of it with a welcoming squeal. Lord, please see me safely home
Daddy! Daddy!
A little girls voice broke into her prayer, a lonely and frightened sound in the thick snowfall. Chelsea froze, heart drumming. She glanced around, but there was no sign of another car as far as she could see, which wasnt far at all. The snow had picked up speed, cutting visibility.
Daddy! Shrill this time, sharp as if on the edge of tears. Something was wrong. Was the child alone? Hurt? In danger?
She bolted from her car, trying to gauge where the cry had come from. A little north, she decided, as the snow grabbed at her boots and the wind pushed against her, holding her back. The labored sound of her breathing, her footsteps crunching in the accumulation and the thousand whispering taps of the snowflakes hitting the ground was all she could hear. No other sound from the child.
She definitely hadnt imagined it, but the thickening darkness gave no hint of where the girl might be. Now what did she do? Chelsea swiped snow from her lashes, turning in a slow circle. Maybe shed gotten disoriented and the child was farther away then shed thought. Waitwas that something? She held her breath, listening. There it was again, a hiccup, such a small sound.
Thank God she heard it. She kept going, angling toward the graves, until she came across small boot prints. They led her to a little girl sprawled on the ground in the inky shadows.
Daddy? she sniffled.
No, Im sorry, its just me. She hit the button on the miniature flashlight clipped to her key chaina stocking stuffer from Mom three Christmases agoand a faint light illuminated the girl. Maybe seven, eight years old. Pale face, big eyes, tears pooling, but they didnt fall. The child was out here all alone? Hi, Im Chelsea. Whats your name?
Im not supposed to tell strangers that.
Thats right and face it, Im a stranger. My sisters tell me all the time that Im really strange. A little humor might make the kid feel more at ease. But not scary, although this storm is a little scary. I cant see a thing. How about you?
No. Thats why I fell down. Silken brown wisps peeked out from a bright purple knit hat. The little girl swiped at them with a matching mitten on her good hand. It was the curb.
I tripped on it when I got here. Almost fell right on my nose. Im saying it was the curbs fault, too. Definitely not ours. Chelsea hunkered in, keeping her voice soft. She didnt need her medical degree to see the girls arm was hurt, or why else would she be cradling it? You must be here with your family?
My daddy. The pooling tears threatened to spill. She was a cutie, with a round face, a sloping nose and a porcelain-doll look. Someones precious daughter. I got to pick out the wreath but it was too sad leaving it at the stone.
I know just what you mean. She thought of the flowers shed left behind, pushed aside her grief and gave thanks she was a pediatrician. Her training would come in handy. Now what about your arm? Can you move your fingers?
I dont want to. The kid shook her head, scattering snowflakes and locks of molasses. Theres nothing wrong. Its just cold.
I see. Shed had stubborn patients before. Is the rest of you cold too, or just your arm?
My arm especially. Itll be okay, I just know it. Honest blue eyes looked up into hers, so serious. I really need my dad.
Ill help you find him. Shed feel better if she could take a look at that arm, which the girl held gingerly. A sprained wrist? A fracture? The doctor in her was itching to find out. The dad couldnt be far. Leave it to me. I have three sisters, so Im really good at hollering. Whats his name?
Dr. Kramer. I Well, I guess its okay to tell you my name. Its Macie.
Its good to meet you, Macie. Im Chelsea. Tell you what, Ill holler and well follow your tracks back to him, all right?
But I dont want to go back. It makes me sad. Macie stayed right where she was, sorrow shining in her blue gaze. Its cuz my mom is here.
Im sorry. Sympathy hit Chelsea so hard, it left her weak. Tears burned behind her eyes. My mom is buried here, too. I know just how you feel.
* * *
Michael Kramer pressed his gloved hand against the gray marble as if to will what remained of his regret through the cold stone. Icy flecks of snow beat against his face as he fought not to remember his failings as a husband.
The storms worsening, Macie. He adjusted the wreath of plastic poinsettias, already dotted with snow. Wed better get home before the roads close.
No little girls voice answered. Probably because his daughter was no longer standing behind him. There was nothing but the impression in the snow of her two booted feet. Why hadnt he noticed earlier? Frustrated with himself, he frowned, crinkling his brow. And how many times had he told her not to wander off? He launched to his feet, searching the thick veil of falling snow. No sign of her.