Christmas and Forever

Evernight Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2011 Delilah Hunt

ISBN:
978-1-927368-19-0

Cover Artist: LF Designs

Editor: JC Chute

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To my wonderful family and friends. Thanks for putting up with the weirdness...all these years. 

CHRISTMAS AND FOREVER

Delilah Hunt

Copyright © 2011

Chapter One

The loud blare of the autoclave machine startled Liya Emerson. She powered it down, satisfied the medical instruments were efficiently sterilized. Although the sound was enough to knock her out of her reverie, it wasn’t enough to keep her mind from straying yet again to the problem at hand: Aidan Keegan, or rather Dr. Aidan Keegan, a.k.a. her boss.

His friends might not care about his self-destructive behavior but she did. Spine ramrod-straight, Liya gave a single nod. This year would be different. Come hell or high water, she was going to bring some joy and happiness to Aidan. Liya extracted the instruments from the stainless-steel machine as the patter of approaching footsteps seized her attention. The forty-three year old chief of cardiology entered the small back room. His eyes skimmed over her in curt acknowledgement before he raised one arm, reaching for the stack of needles on the topmost shelf: a shelf that, at her pitiful measurement of five-foot-five, Liya had no hope of reaching without the leverage of a chair. Liya bit the insides of her cheeks. Dr. Keegan was a sight. Nearly twice her height Aidan was lean, with broad shoulders that filled out the casual white shirt he wore. Heat blossomed in her cheeks as she admired the hints of corded muscles in his forearm. Silver threads woven into his brown hair made him appear every bit his age, while the slight heaviness beneath his eyelids seemed to add an extra five years. He slammed the cabinet and Liya blinked, her eyes snapping open.

Liya peered at him. Although it should have been a feat to imagine Aidan as he might have been six years prior, long before she was hired as receptionist for the clinic, she found it simple. He must have smiled a lot, and laughed, too. Of course, he now looked world-weary. It couldn’t have been any other way, since he was still reeling from the accident that snatched his wife and baby from him, leaving him nothing but a nerve-damaged hand, which made his career as a renowned heart surgeon come to a screeching halt. At least that was what she’d heard. Aidan told her nothing, no matter how hard she pressed him. Getting more than two words out of him was like waiting for a lump of coal to turn to a diamond in front of her eyes. Impossible. But those rare magical moments when he did open up—even if it was to ask how her day went or how she did on a certain exam at university— were treasured.

Liya glanced out the window on the far side of the room. Across the street, lit by fluorescent lamps and multicolored seasonal miniature lights strung across the snow-covered buildings, a Salvation Army Santa Claus stood posted on the sidewalk, the jangle of his bell muted by the distance. She pinned her focus on Aidan. Was he spending the holidays alone, like her? When it was just her brother and she, it was all too easy to let the holidays slide by without regard. And after Henry’s death, well she had no reason or blessings to celebrate. Without her little brother, she was without a family. But somehow she found a way to pick up the pieces and move on, even fulfilling her dreams of attending university. Aidan, on the other hand––he didn’t quite know how to move on. And during the holidays in particular, being so close to the time of the year when his world ended, he was in torment.

His thick brows narrowed and for a moment, Liya feared this would be the final straw in her endless barrage of interrogation. But she refused to throw down her weapons so easily and admit defeat in her campaign to pluck Dr. Keegan out of his melancholy.

His firm lips twitched, and Liya could see a line of humor start to seam along the edges. “I wonder how long you’ve been waiting to ask that one.”

Liya returned his smile. So he was slowly thawing toward her, after enduring five months of her incessant chatter. She was glad to see a lack of annoyance in his icy blue eyes, because apart from trying to talk to him each day, she was unsure of another method to waylay the somberness that clung to him like a metal shield.

“All day long.” She smiled sheepishly in admission.

Aidan gave her a long stare, all traces of humor vanishing. “That answer should be obvious, shouldn’t it?”

Oh God. Idiot
. She wished she had kept her blasted mouth shut for once. Of course he would wish for his family and a return to the life he had prior to the collision. Her eyes drifted lower. He wasn’t leaning so heavily on the right leg today, meaning the injury, another horrendous legacy from the accident, wasn’t the cause of his dour mood. Even so, Liya refused to cower.

“It’s not obvious or I wouldn’t have asked.”

Aidan’s lips curled. “I’d rather not discuss this anymore or for that matter with you. I didn’t hire you to question me at every turn, Liya.” He clenched his jaw and issued her a knowing stare. “No matter
what
your intentions are.”

Her face fell. Why did she always have to make everything so freaking transparent?
Because you don’t know any other way,
she chided herself
.
“I apologize, Dr. Keegan.”

His body visibly relaxed. “Just no more questions for today, all right?” When she jerked her head in affirmation he asked, “Now, who’s up next to be examined?”

Liya hopped over to the front desk to check the list of scheduled appointments. On most days the list was devoid of names due to the regularity of walk-in patients in the low cost clinic.

After confirming that there weren’t any appointments for the day, Liya settled into the usual routine, waiting in her chair at the front desk or organizing the back room so Aidan— because as much as she respected the other doctors, she could care less if they wished to rip out their hair trying to find equipment—wouldn’t have the additional stress. For the next couple of hours, she alternated between scouting through a psychology textbook, one of the final exams she had to endure before the holiday commenced, and signing patients in. She knew Aidan didn’t mind her using the time to study, because it kept her from talking and flinging more random questions his way.

The faint ticking of the wall clock caused her to look up. Five minutes until closing time. While she would head home, Liya knew Aidan would return to Mansfield General Hospital and take over his duties supervising and making sure the cardiology department ran without a glitch.

His features hardened in lieu of her scrutiny. Ignoring him, Liya powered on. Someone had to let him know the truth and no one else seemed up to the task. “I don’t see what good you’re going to be to anyone, yourself included, if you keep this up. Give it another week and you’re headed into zombie territory. It’s not a good look. All those little kids you take care of, let’s see how many of them will let Dr. Keegan anywhere near them.”

“Are you finished?” he asked between clenched teeth.

“Not really, but I’d like to keep my job, so I guess I need to shut up now.”

Aidan scoured his gaze lower, then upward to her face. “Smart girl.” He spun in the direction of his small office in a secluded corner.

“I’m not a girl. I’m twenty-three, in case you forgot from the employee application.”

His motion halted, Aidan regarded her with a slow pivot of the head and bore down on her as if he were observing an insect under a microscope. “That means nothing to me.”

If she was any other person she might have taken offense. Liya brushed it aside. “I’m not surprised. This is coming from a person who doesn’t take care of himself then turns around and lectures his patients about how they should live their lives.”

Treading on dangerous grounds, Liya
, the sane part of her mind scolded. Aidan was her boss, but he was also a man she had gotten to know over the past months, observing all the nuances that made him, well…Aidan. For instance, she was probably the only one in the clinic who knew that as soon as a thunderstorm rolled in, Aidan was screwed. So many times she had seen the carefully masked pain on his face and knew his left leg was acting up again.

Once, after her second month on the job, curiosity had gotten the best of her, infusing her with a fool’s boldness to ask Aidan himself what happened to his leg. A scowl and a demand to re-organize the patient folders by first name was her answer. Of course she hadn’t done it, and Aidan hadn’t said a word when he saw the folders as they always were. The next day she had gone to another doctor, probably the closest friend Aidan had, and inquired about his injury. Dr. Northrop hadn’t said much, except that Aidan should have listened to the specialist’s advice and amputated the leg. Deep down, a wave of pity had surfaced, but behind it…behind it, something that had been stirring, quietly blooming, started to take root. There was more to Aidan than met the eye. More to his stoic moodiness, and Liya wanted to explore and discover every facet that made the man she was becoming enthralled by.

His wide chest heaved and an unnamed emotion she couldn’t even begin to decipher filtered into his eyes as he locked his gaze with hers. “In the six months you’ve been working here, you’ve suddenly become an expert on my life? You know nothing about me. Nothing about pain, Liya.” His voice was surprisingly devoid of the fury she expected. “Without my work, I don’t see what else there is to life and I don’t believe I care enough to find out.”