Poles Apart (7 page)

Unable
to suppress his smile, Niklas steered the wooden sleigh through the snow from
his house to Sarah’s. The six reindeer pulling them looked so good he feared
they might take off into the sky. Jingling a tune, the bells around their necks
announced their arrival.

On the seat beside Niklas stood Risto,
legs pinned against the curved dashboard, barking their way across the open white
terrain. Risto had a thing about reindeer, and Niklas still couldn’t figure out
if his dog loved or hated them.

Mila lay on the backseat, head resting on
her front paws, while Alexis crouched on the floor beside her. Out of sight.

Niklas spurred the reindeer on, twice around
Sarah’s cabin, accompanied by his loud ha-ha-ha, Risto’s incessant barking, and
the jingling of bells. If that didn’t draw her attention, nothing would.

As he pulled to a stop outside the cabin,
the front door flew open. Pale light trickled onto the dark porch. Sarah’s face
appeared in the doorway then disappeared for a moment before the porch
brightened as she flipped the light switch. Reappearing, she waved.

Santa-clad Niklas bounded out the
sleigh, Risto in hot pursuit. The dog took off across the snow as Mila gave a
whimper, stopping Niklas in his tracks. He turned, swept her up in his arms and
carried her to the top of the steps. She waddled across the porch, stopping at
Sarah’s feet.

Sarah bent down and ruffled the fur
around Mila’s neck. “Hey, girl, it’s good to see you again.”

Mila rubbed her nose against Sarah’s leg
then eased past her into the cabin.

At the sound of Risto’s bark, Niklas
turned. The male retriever took the stairs two at a time and way too fast.
Landing on the icy porch, he skidded past Niklas toward Sarah, bowling her over
before coming to a stop inside the cabin.

“Risto,” Niklas shouted.

Sarah quickly righted herself to a
sitting position.

The dog scurried over to Sarah, his eyes
darting between her and Niklas, tail between his legs. Giving Sarah a ‘sorry’ lick
on the cheek, he sat. With a whine, he pawed the air.

Niklas stifled his laugh, remembering
his Santa voice before he spoke. “I’m sorry. I guess my retriever misjudged the
icy porch.” He held out a hand and pulled Sarah to her feet.

“It’s all right, Nick. No damage done.”
She gestured toward the door. “Please, come inside.”

Pushing the Santa spectacles up his
nose, Niklas patted the beard. All still in place. He stepped inside. Mila had
already made herself comfortable on the rug.

“Thank you, Miss No. I hope you don’t
mind that my dogs are with me. With Mila heavily pregnant, I need her beside me
all the time. She could go into labor any day now, so I take her along to work.”
He chuckled. “Which you already know.”

“Of course I don’t mind. And please, call
me Sarah. Sarah Jones from South Africa.”

“Sarah. A beautiful name. Princess,
isn’t it?”

A smile played on her lips. “Do you know
the meaning of everyone in the world’s names?”

Only those I can’t get out of my mind.
Niklas buried the thought and answered in the only manner Santa could. “Most.”
Then he changed the subject lest she quiz him.

“The sleigh ride was cold tonight.
Something warm will go down well. Is that hot chocolate ready?”

“Coming right up.” She turned and
disappeared into the kitchen.

Niklas followed, stopping in the
doorway. He glanced at the small Christmas decoration dangling before his eyes,
thankful the overgrown fake beard hid his smile. He knew a popular Christmas
song he’d love to make come true right now, though he’d have to substitute the
word ‘Mamma’ for ‘Sarah’. Instead he turned and walked to the couch before Sarah
noticed he’d seen the mistletoe.
Must remember it’s there, though.

“How did your writing go today?” He sank
into the soft cushions and stared at the ashy fireplace. He’d take his time
cleaning that out and preparing a new fire when he returned later. Thanks to
the wall-mounted heaters, the cabin was warm, but it lacked the cozy ambiance created
by a crackling fire.

Sarah’s reply drifted from the kitchen.
“Great, actually. I only had a few hours this afternoon, but still I managed to
do some character sketches and bang out three thousand words. If I keep going at
this pace, I’ll have this novel completed before I go home. Mission
accomplished.” Her voice bubbled with an excitement he hadn’t heard yesterday.

Resting an elbow on his thigh, Niklas leaned
forward, wishing he’d sat at the table where he could still see Sarah. Hopefully
she’d sit beside him on the couch once the hot chocolate was made. “You said you
have some questions?”

“Just a few. How many sugars?” A laugh
slipped through from the kitchen. “That’s not one of my questions.”

“No sugar. Everyone says I’m sweet
enough.”

“Of course you are.” Another laugh.
Already he loved the sound.

Niklas pulled the beard away and blew cool
air down his chin. Clad in all his snow gear beneath the Santa suit, he’d
rather be Alexis hiding outside in the sleigh at this moment. Actually, no. He wouldn’t
want to trade places with his friend—not for anything. To spend time with Sarah,
he’d gladly take the heat. Twenty minutes of discomfort. He could do that.

Sarah strolled out of the kitchen
carrying two mugs. The beard snapped back against his skin. She looked good in
her black leggings and white off-the-shoulder T-shirt, ‘I love Cape Town’
printed on the front. In bold. Her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders,
almost touching the red heart-shaped depiction of the word love that drew his
attention.

“You live in Cape Town?”

“I sure do.” She smiled and motioned
toward her shirt with one cup. “And as you can see, I love it.”

I think I love Cape Town, too.

Sarah handed Niklas his hot chocolate
and eased into the opposite side of the couch, pulling her feet up onto the
edge of the cushion. Hugging her knees, she sipped her drink and eyed Niklas over
the ceramic rim. “Do you have children, Nick?”

With a chuckle, he shook his head. “No.
No. I don’t have children.” He took a swig, wondering how he’d manage to not soil
the beard. Not a wise decision to request hot chocolate instead of water.

“But you do love children?”

“Absolutely.”

“Do you want children of your own one
day?”

“I would like a dozen of them, but as
you can see, I’m getting too old for that.”

She stared into his eyes then lowered
her gaze to his hands. “You’re only as old as you feel, Nick.”

For a while she sipped her drink in
silence, a distant look on her face. “I love children,” she finally said,
shifting her gaze to him. “One day I hope I’ll have a few running around my
house, too.” A smile broke across her solemn features. “A husband to go with
them, as well.”

“You’re not married?”

“I— No.”

“A beautiful woman such as yourself? Surely
you have lots of men trying to win your affections?”

“Are you married, Nick?” She had ignored
his question but couldn’t hide the blush that tinged her cheeks.

Niklas shook his head, the long beard
ruffling with the action.

She gave a half-smile. “No Mary
Christmas?”

“Ha-ha-ha. You’re very funny, Sarah
Jones.”

Her smile widened. “Am I? How about I
get more serious then? You said you could share
the
secret of Christmas
with me. I’d love to know what that is. Is it to be found here in Lapland?”

Lord, are you opening a door?
“The
secret can be found anywhere, Sarah. It didn’t originate in Lapland. All of
this—” He gestured to his clothing, his beard. “This is not what Christmas is about.
The real secret of Christmas, or rather the answer, happened two thousand years
ago with an angel, a virgin, and a tiny baby boy in a manger.”

Sarah breathed in deep, closing her eyes
as she exhaled. Had he offended her? Without a word, she emptied her mug and
placed it on the floor before leaning back into the cushions. Another sigh. “I
guess Jonathan was right, I should’ve gone to Bethlehem.”

“Jonathan?”

“My five-year-old nephew. Speaking
of...” She pushed up from her seat and made her way to the desk. Lifting
something, she turned and extended her hand. An envelope dangled from her
fingers. “This is for you. Jonathan asked me to deliver it.”

Standing, Niklas took the envelope with
what looked like ‘Santa’ scribbled on the front. “Thank you. I will give you
something to take back home to your nephew.”

How had the conversation about Bethlehem
derailed so fast? Perhaps just as well because he couldn’t stay longer. He was overheating
in all this clothing, Alexis was probably feeling the cold outside in the
sleigh, and he needed to arrive on Sarah’s doorstep as himself any minute to
sort out her fireplace and sauna.

But he wanted to leave the discussion open,
not closed. “For what it’s worth, Sarah, I’m glad you didn’t go to Bethlehem,
though I’d still like to show you the Bethlehem baby when we have more time.”

“I know all about the Bethlehem babe,
Nick. There isn’t anything more you can tell me about Him.”

“You’re a believer?”

“I was. I’m not sure anymore.”

I know Your purpose, Lord. Help me show
her the way back to You.

“I’d like to help you be sure. Perhaps
we could speak more about this next time?”

“I—I don’t know. I don’t think so. The
purpose for our interviews is to find out about Santa Claus for my novel, not
Jesus.”

“Sarah, didn’t you say this was a
romance you were writing?”

“Yes.”

“Then don’t forget that the story of
Jesus is the greatest love story of all.” Niklas stepped toward the door. “Mila,
Risto,
tulla
aika
mennä
.”

The dogs obeyed his command and followed.

Sarah patted them each on the head as
they passed by her. “What did you say to them?”

“That it was time to go. Thank you,
Sarah Jones from South Africa. You have my number if you need to talk more.”

“Thank you, Santa. I will call if I get
stuck.”

Niklas pushed the door open then turned.
“Santa? What happened to Nick?”

“Um, perhaps a first name basis is a
little disrespectful for someone of your stature?”

“Ha-ha-ha, Sarah. I like you calling me
Nick. Makes me feel years younger. Besides, it is my name.” He stepped outside,
the dogs shadowing him.

“So, which one is Rudolph?”

Pivoting, Niklas watched Sarah grip the
edge of the closing door. She stretched on her toes to look past him and
pointed at the reindeer.

“That one with the shiny red nose?” A
laugh slid from her mouth and wafted like music into the cold night air.

Niklas shook his head. Which one she had
singled out was anyone’s guess. He smiled. “I don’t have a reindeer called
Rudolph. Or Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Dunder, or Blixem for
that matter.”

Her eyes widened. “You don’t?” Her voice
oozed feigned shock.

“No, I don’t.”

“So what
are
your reindeer called
then?”

“I tell you what, Sarah Jones, why don’t
I hang onto that information until our next meeting? I’m certain you still have
many questions. And I would still like to help you remember that greatest love
story of all.”

She eyed him. “On one condition. You
introduce me personally to your reindeer and take me for a sleigh ride
afterward.”

“Of course. We’ll make a date for that.
Soon. Goodnight, Sarah.”

He ambled down the stairs, tapping the
envelope from Jonathan against his leg, eyes fixed on the sleigh as he uttered
a last command, cautioning Alexis to stay down. “
Pysyvät alhaalla
.” Sarah
wouldn’t know he wasn’t talking to his dogs.

With Risto and Mila settled on the
backseat of the sleigh, Niklas hopped in front and grabbed the reins. He waved
at Sarah. “
Hyvää yötä
. Good night.”

She returned the gesture then closed the
door.

The moment the sleigh rounded the corner
of the cabin, Alexis rose from the floorboard and hurtled to the front seat,
taking the reins from his clone. He slowed the reindeers’ pace while Niklas
stripped off his Santa suit and shoved the outfit back into his father’s red
bag.

By the time the sleigh had circled the
cabin, about to pass the front door again, Niklas had climbed the stairs to the
porch, heading for Sarah’s door. All he could think about was that tiny piece
of mistletoe hanging over the kitchen entrance. And the fact that both he and
Sarah needed to pass through there to get to the sauna to light that fire. If
they happened to be in the doorway at the same time, dare he take a chance and kiss
her, blame it on tradition?