Poles Apart (6 page)

Keeping her eyes fixed on her
questionably eccentric landlord, Sarah pressed on through the snow until her
boots hit the wooden pathway. She followed Niklas’s trail. Without warning, he vanished
into the blank canvas.

Sarah hastened her pace, coming to an
abrupt stop at the path’s end. A wooden ladder disappeared into a hole in the
ice, the size of a mini exercise trampoline. As she gazed into the dark lake,
Niklas’s face broke through the surface. He shook the water from his hair
before opening his eyes. Droplets of water spattered against her boots.

“Sarah?” Hands on the ladder, Niklas
pulled himself up and out in one fluid movement. “This is a pleasant surprise.
What are you doing here?” He slid his feet into a pair of plastic sandals, no
doubt discarded right before he took his icy plunge.

“I...uh...” Goosebumps pricked his skin
that still carried the faint remnants of summer, down his muscular arms and
across his broad, chiseled chest.
Put on some clothes. I can’t think
straight.

He jogged back up the path. “You’ll have
to keep pace, it’s fresh out here.”

Fresh? It was freezing. And he, practically
naked, had only noticed the ‘freshness’ now?

Running alongside, Sarah thumbed toward
the hole in the ice. “What were you doing back there?”

He grinned. “
Avanto
.”

Huh? She stopped, resisting the urge to
shove her hands to her hips. Instead, she tugged on her gloves, taking care
with the hand she’d injured. Her fingernails the tips of the thermal fabric.
“You want to what?”

A deep chuckle erupted as Niklas reached
for the sauna door handle. “No, no.
Avanto
. Finnish for hole in the ice.
Great tradition. We do it many times. Sauna,
Avanto
. Sauna,
Avanto
.
In, out. Today, I don’t have time.”

More than once? Why would any sane
person put themselves through that agony over and over? Thankfully she wasn’t
from this side of the world.

“So, Sarah, what can I do for you?” He
pushed open the door and grabbed a towel hanging on a hook.

Sarah remained outside. “Uh, there’s no
hot water at my cabin.”

“I’m sorry. I should’ve shown you how to
light the sauna oven this morning, but— Can it wait until tonight?
Unfortunately, I’m in a hurry.”

Wait? No. “I’d like to take a
shower...need to take a shower.”

He leaned into the doorway, a smile
tugging at his lips as he towel-dried his hair. “I heated your sauna last
night. You didn’t use it?”

“No. Jet lag.”

“Don’t you only get jet lag when
crossing time zones? Isn’t South Africa almost on the same longitude as
Lapland?”

“Travel lag then. Do you know how far
this place is from home? I’ve travelled practically from one pole to the other.
I was tired. I fell asleep.”
On the couch, which you know very well.
Why
was he pretending he didn’t?

“It’s understandable. That is far.”

His body dry, Niklas grabbed his shirt
and pulled it over his head. Disappointment oozed through Sarah as his arms and
chest disappeared into the black fabric. Small waves formed on his damp hair as
he ruffled his fingers through the blond strands.

“Look, my sauna is hot already. It will
take yours at least a half hour to heat. Why don’t you give me a minute to get
my pants and boots on and I’ll take you to your cabin on the snowmobile? You
can fetch your clothes and toiletries, and I’ll bring you back to enjoy my
sauna for as long as you like. It’s a win-win. I’ll stop by tonight around
seven-thirty and show you how to heat your sauna.”

She eyed him. Did her face belie her
wariness? “Is that ice hole the equivalent of your shower? I mean, will I have
to—”

“Ha-ha-ha. No. There’s a shower inside
my sauna, too.”

Sarah held her breath for a moment. The
thought of waiting another thirty minutes before she could wash, unappealing.
The knowledge she didn’t have to take a dip in the ice hole to bathe,
relieving. The notion of riding that snowmobile, holding onto Niklas, exciting.

“All right.”

The smile on his mouth widened to a
grin. “Give me a minute.” He closed the door on her.

With nothing else to do, Sarah counted
down the time.
One, two...fifty-five, fifty-six...

The door swung open and Niklas emerged
zipping up his red jacket. “You ready?” She nodded as he pulled on his gloves.
Together they made their way to the snowmobile. Niklas raised his leg and slid
it over the broad seat then held out his hand. Sarah grasped it and hopped on
behind him. The engine roared to life, and as the machine tore off across the
snowy landscape, Sarah’s arms instinctively wrapped themselves around his
waist.

Almost thirty-three years, that’s how
long Niklas had waited for this feeling. He’d heard of love at first sight but
never thought it could happen to him. Sitting in the sauna earlier he suspected
it might’ve. Feeling Sarah behind him on the snowmobile, arms wrapped tight
around his waist, extinguished all doubt.

Imagine feeling that every day for the
rest of his life.

An ache squeezed his heart as he popped
another child onto his knee. After only three short weeks as his guest, Sarah
Jones would return home to Africa.

Forcing his attention back to the job at
hand, Niklas smiled for the camera. “So you want a toy train set for Christmas,
Kevin?”

The seven-year-old stared wide-eyed.
Flashing a toothy grin, his head bobbed up and down. “And a train-driver’s
uniform.”

“You know what, Kevin? I will phone my
elves in Korvatunturi—that’s where my secret workshop is—and tell them to start
making your train set and uniform. There’s still enough time before Christmas.”
Niklas turned to Kevin’s parents. “What do you think?”

The petite blonde and her burly husband
smiled and nodded.

Kevin’s grin stretched from one ear to
the other. “Thanks, Santa.” He slid from Niklas’s lap. Standing between his
parents, he slipped his small hands into theirs as they walked away. Releasing
his father’s grasp, Kevin turned and waved. “Bye, Santa.”

“Goodbye, Kevin. Don’t forget to be
good.”

Niklas breathed out a heavy sigh. If he
was good, would he get what he really wanted for Christmas?

He had three weeks to win Sarah’s heart.
Starting tonight.

Invigorating.
She could get used to this sauna thing. But the
avanto
? What was that
like? Niklas had survived, and looked good for it, too. Thankfully, she
wouldn’t find out. Packing a swimsuit had not been part of her to-do list on
Friday.

By the time Sarah emerged from the
sauna, Niklas had left. So had daylight. Almost. She knocked on his door to say
thank you. Only silence paid her any attention. Her spirit sinking like her
boots in the snow, she made her way home in the faded light.

Inside the cabin, her laptop beckoned
from the table. So much for getting a jump-start today. Her gaze drifted to her
suitcase, abandoned in the corner. She should unpack first. With her muse
hungry, her appetite whet by the blue-eyed Santa and Niklas Toivonen, there’d
be nothing could tear her away once she put fingers to keyboard—those that
still worked.

Lifting the lid of her suitcase, Sarah
began unpacking her belongings into the tall, narrow cupboard in the corner of
the room beside the table. Right at the very bottom of the suitcase, under the
last item of clothing, she discovered a plastic bag. One she hadn’t packed.
Removing it, she peeked inside, and then tipped the contents onto the table
beside her laptop.

First thing she lifted was an envelope,
a single word written in red wax crayon. Santa. At least, that’s what she
deciphered. Must be from Jonathan. She put it aside. She’d deliver it on her
next Santa interview.

Another envelope sported her sister’s
handwriting. Guilt twinged. She should call and let Hannah know she’d arrived.
In a moment. Sarah squeezed the bulkier envelope. What was inside? She tore it
open. As she turned the envelope, open side facing down, something slid out and
fell to the ground before Sarah could catch it. Stooping, she picked it up and
brushed her hand over the slender green leaves. She touched the red satin
ribbon then twirled the pearly berries between her fingers. Mistletoe. Why had
Hannah slipped this into her luggage?

Placing the mistletoe sprig down on the
table, Sarah examined the envelope again. Inside a sheet of paper had remained
behind. She unfolded the single page of writing.

Dear Sarah

I’m sorry we didn’t part on better
terms. And I’m sorry you won’t be here for Christmas, or your birthday, but I
do pray you’ll find what you’re looking for in Lapland—your love story. Most of
all, I pray you’ll once again discover the true meaning of Christmas.

I hope this sprig of mistletoe will
give your log cabin a tiny feel of Christmas. Maybe it’ll give you some
inspiration and help, too.

All my love

Your big sis, Hannah.

Ps. I hope you don’t mind that we
snuck these things into your suitcase. The boys insisted. We’ll have your
Christmas gifts waiting under the tree when you return. Please will you deliver
Jonathan’s letter to Santa, and take care if you choose to follow through on
Matthew’s request.

The line was followed by a smiley face.

Matthew’s request? What was her nephew
up to this time?

Sarah smiled as she searched for a place
to hang the mistletoe. With its double volume ceiling, the lounge wasn’t an
option. She settled on the entrance into the kitchen. She could see it best
from where she’d be writing. Hannah had prepared the decoration with a blob of
Blu-Tack stuck to the end of the ribbon, ready to hang. Sarah shortened the
ribbon by tying it into a perfect bow at the end of the green stems then
pressed the Blu-Tack and ribbon against the top of the doorway. For a moment
she gazed at the small dangling decoration, its smooth-edged, oval, green
leaves; clusters of waxy, white berries; and soft, red ribbon bringing a touch
of Yuletide color. It was beginning to feel like Christmas.

She glanced at the last item on the
table. Must be from Matthew. Sitting down on one of the chairs, she toyed with the
package. Soft, wrapped in a plastic packet, and taped closed well. What did
Hannah mean by take care?

Digging a fingernail into the plastic,
she punctured the packet then tore it open and pulled out—
my swimsuit?
She retrieved the note stuck to it, recognizing Matthew’s grade three
handwriting.

Auntie Sarah, I think it’s awesome
you’ve gone to Lapland. High-five. I Googled the place and found all these
crazy things they do there, like racing reindeer and huskies. You so have to do
that if you get time. Another thing you MUST do is jump into an ice hole. I
dare
you. It sounds SO COOL. I know you
won’t
think to pack in your swimsuit with all that snow there, so I asked my mom to
find yours and pack it with my note. Just so you know, they call the hole in
the ice an avanto.

When you go to see Santa, will you
tell him that for Christmas I’d really like a PlayStation 4? You will go see
him, won’t you—for research? You have to. If you don’t, how can we sing about
you kissing Santa Claus? You have the mistletoe, so now you have to. (I gave
mom the idea.
)

Matthew

Great. Now she had a dare to contend
with—although it sounded like two—and no excuse to get out of either.

Holding onto her swimsuit, Sarah glanced
up at the mistletoe and released a slow sigh. What would it be like to kiss
Santa under that mistletoe? What would it be like to sauna with Niklas, taking
that crazy leap into the ice hole together? Both images caused her heart to
beat out of rhythm, something it hadn’t done in forever. After Andrew, she’d
placed a hedge around herself, falling in love only through her characters
where it was safe. So how was it possible that she now found herself attracted
so fast to two men at the same time? Or were they really only one? The more she
thought about it, the more convinced she became—those baby blues were far too
similar. She would keep a close watch on Santa and Niklas. Really close.

As for that attraction... Had to be her
muse. What else could it be?

Sarah glanced at her hand, the number
penned on her skin almost washed into oblivion. Shoot. In her eagerness and
enjoyment of the sauna and shower, she’d totally forgotten about Santa’s phone
number. She reached for her phone and punched in the number, saving it under
‘S’. She should call and ask him to come around after work tonight to continue
their conversation, before he got too busy with Christmas stuff. She still had
a lot of questions for him. But Niklas was coming over later to sort out her
sauna.

Two men in her cabin, at the same time? Could
be an impossible feat though, even for Santa.

Sarah glanced at the time on her phone.
Too early to call. She typed a text message, recalled Santa’s number, and
pressed send.

Pausing before pulling her laptop
closer, she typed another text—one telling Hannah she’d arrived safely, that it
was beautiful here, and to give the boys her love. She’d Skype soon.

Sarah opened her blank manuscript and
saved it under a new name.
My Secret Santa
. Closing her eyes, she drew a
deep breath. When she opened them, her eight good fingers moved over the
keyboard, thumb and index fingers raised awkwardly in the air.

Jessica Mattison had no doubt in her
mind—she’d been struck by what all people in her profession feared most, and it
scared her wordless. A diagnosis consisting of two small, yet dreaded words.
Writer’s block.

Thanks to that sauna, her muse was hot,
and the idea to write this story based on her own experience, nothing short of
brilliant. Who knew real life would be her writing prompt? The only thing that
concerned her now was pulling off that happily-ever-after for her hero and
heroine. No way could she draw on real life for that.

How would he get through the afternoon,
giving child after child ‘Santa Magic’, when all he could think about was how
to extend his time at Sarah’s cabin later? The sauna and fireplace wouldn’t
take long to prepare and light. Still, Niklas had faith that something would
keep him there longer. Look at what happened last night. Being so close as he
held her hand to examine her singed fingers... Not that he’d wish anything bad
on Sarah purely to spend time with her.

The vibration in his shirt pocket drew his
attention. Niklas motioned to Orvo, the elderly elf, to hold off on the next
family and give him a comfort break.

Inside the bathroom, he whipped out his
phone. One message. He opened the unread text.

Dear Santa, though I do prefer to
call you Nick—makes me feel less like a five-year-old. Any chance we could
continue our interview in private later? If so, please steer your reindeer in
the direction of No. 1 Toivonen cabins around 7.30 tonight. I presume you know
where that is, seeing as you’re Santa? I’ll have a pot of coffee ready. Or
would you prefer cookies and milk?
J
Miss No Name.

His heart plummeted. Had she recognized
him last night? Was she deliberately putting him in a predicament to see if he and
Santa were one and the same? She didn’t seem the type of person who’d double
book, and yet, here she was inviting Santa over at the same time as their prior
arrangements. Unless she’d forgotten about her landlord and the sauna. This
could be complicated. Thankfully for now he was Santa, and Santa knew all about
making Christmas magic.

First, he’d buy some time.

Dear Miss No Name, you know that I’m
an old man. I need to get home and to bed. I can spare you around twenty
minutes. Yes, I do know all the addresses in the world, and as Toivonen’s is
not far from my office, how about I see you at 7.15. Coffee will keep me up all
night, and I only do cookies and milk on Christmas Eve. Hot chocolate would be
good, if you have any. Santa Claus, or as you prefer, Nick.

After sending the message, Niklas dialed
his best friend. Alexis’s Lapland Adventures would come in handy right now.

The phone rang. And rang. “Come on,”
Niklas willed his friend to answer.

“
Hei
.”

“Alexis,
hei
. Thank heavens you
answered. Listen quick, I need your help. Don’t ask any questions, but can you
meet me at my house tonight at seven ten?”

“Of course.”

“
Kiitos
.”

“You’re welcome, Niklas.”

“One more favor—bring your wooden
sleigh, the Santa-style one with six reindeer pulling it.”

“Why?”

“I’ll explain later, but right now I
need you to say you can help me.”

“This better be good, my friend.”

“Believe me, it is.” Niklas sucked in
his breath. “One other thing.”

Alexis huffed on the other side of the
line. “I thought you said one favor. This is now three. You know you’re—”

“Pushing it. I know. Dress in that spare
Santa suit and beard of your father’s...and make sure you dress warm beneath
it.”

“What?”

“Please, Alexis.”

“All right. On one condition.”

“Yes?”

Alexis chuckled. “I don’t have to climb down
any chimneys.”

“You won’t.” He’d owe his friend big
after this. “Alexis, thanks.”

“As long as I get the inside scoop on
what this is all about.”

Niklas chuckled. “Don’t be late.
Punctuality is paramount tonight.” He tapped the screen and cut the call. Yes,
his plan should work well. Being Santa and himself at the same time would be no
problem at all. All Sarah Jones needed was a moment.