A Very Special Christmas Read online

  "How nice for you to have so many people taking care of you."

  "Yup. Some of my friends have stepmoms and stepdads, but I don't need one. I'm practically grown up."

  Claire hid a smile. "I can see that."

  Jennie stood on tiptoe to hang a snowflake, but she couldn't reach the uppermost branches. She tried several times, before giving up.

  Claire wondered if she should volunteer, but Jennie seemed determined to accomplish as much as she could on her own. Alex had made it plain that Claire played an integral part in this project, too, but Jennie clearly didn't want anyone usurping her father's duties.

  It became more apparent when Jennie dragged a chair close to the tree and stood on the seat cushion. After placing a snowflake on the highest limb, she beamed triumphantly before she jumped down to select a glass icicle. Before she could climb on her makeshift stool again, Claire stopped her.

  "If you fall and hurt yourself, we'll both be in trouble," she told Jennie.

  "I won't fall."

  "Probably not," Claire agreed, "but accidents happen. You wouldn't want to break your arm or leg, though. You'd miss out on a lot of fun."

  Jennie frowned. "But I can't reach high enough."

  "Do what you can with both feet on the ground,'' Claire advised. "Your father can help with the rest when he comes back. He should be here shortly." She hoped.

  "OK." Suddenly, Jennie hesitated. "You could probably do the top."

  Claire sensed how difficult it had been for the youngster to offer. It was just as difficult for her to accept. "If your dad hasn't returned by the time you've finished the rest of the tree, then I will. In the meantime, I'll supervise."

  Satisfied with Claire's answer, Jennie resumed her duties while Claire watched and tried not to remember her own tree-decorating occasions. She and Ray would spend hours good-naturedly arguing over where to place each ornament while they drank hot apple cider and ate the shortbread cookies she traditionally bought for this special day.

  Could she go through the motions alone this year, with only Joshua for company?

  She would, she determined, but on a much smaller scale than before. A stocking for Joshua, a few twinkly lights on the mantel and a twelve-inch, no-assembly-or-decorating-required fiber-optic tree would provide all the holiday cheer she needed or could tolerate.

  It might not be much, but it was better than nothing.

  Alex ambled out of his office, determined to let another five minutes pass before he joined Jennie and Claire. His excuse for paperwork had been just that—an excuse—but he had his reasons. Jennie's teacher had mentioned at their last conference that she was extremely territorial and needed to work on what Mrs Vincent called a "team attitude".

  He'd known that she preferred having things her way— what child didn't?—but he assumed her disposition was due to a double dose of the "onlies". Being an only child of an only parent was a drawback when it came time to learn about sharing and compromise.

  As the years had marched on, he'd thought she'd outgrown that phase, but Mrs Vincent's comment proved otherwise. For a man who prided himself on his powers of observation, it had been a humbling pill to swallow.

  Which brought him to the Christmas tree issue. Perhaps if Jennie had to work with someone who wasn't as interior-design-challenged as he was, she might learn the fine art of compromise. Now he wondered if he should have fully explained his plan before thrusting Claire in the middle of it.

  He quickened his step, then halted in the doorway to survey the scene. Claire was busy tidying the room while his daughter happily hung her snowflakes.

  Alex should have joined them, but he wanted to see how the two interacted almost as much as he wanted to feast his eyes on the woman he'd hired.

  Claire was taller than most women, attractive and had short straight, coppery-colored hair. Her voice was always calm and soothing and, no matter how stressed his day was, a few minutes in her presence lifted his mood more effectively than anything money could buy.

  She was slender, and he suspected that Joshua would grow, up with the same build. Today she wore a scrub suit with kittens of all shades playing with an assortment of yarn. Idly, he wondered where she found her uniforms because the fabric designs were so different from everyone else's.

  He started forward, but her expression made him hesitate. She looked almost...grim, as if the chore was more detestable than fun.

  He realized something else. Claire and his daughter weren't working together, as he'd imagined.

  So much for his carefully thought-out plan.

  He strode in and used his most hearty voice to disguise his disappointment. "How are you two ladies coming along?"

  "Fine, Daddy. I saved the space at the top for you."

  He eyed the bare branches that were far beyond Jennie's reach but well within Claire's. "Jennie," he warned, "you were supposed to let Claire help."

  "I know," Jennie assured him with wide eyes. "But she said to save those for you. If you didn't come back soon, then she would do your part."

  "It's true," Claire chimed in as she placed another box that Jennie had emptied into the storage crate. "I volunteered to be a technical consultant until you arrived. With her eye for detail, it seemed a shame to stand in the way of a creative genius."

  Jennie preened under Claire's praise, and it was obvious that Claire had won a new friend in his daughter. Perhaps his plan hadn't completely backfired.

  "See, Dad? Everything turned out fine. So hurry up. I can't wait to see how it looks when it's finished."

  "It's already beautiful," he said loyally, "but I'll hurry." He glanced around. "Where are the snowflakes?"

  "I'll get them." Jennie chose one from her box and handed it to him. "Put it in that spot, right there." She pointed to an upper limb.

  "Here?"

  "A little more to the left."

  With the. paper ornament in place to Jennie's satisfaction, she handed him another. Once again, she gave him specific directions.

  "Bossy-boots, aren't we?" he teased.

  Jennie rolled her eyes. "Don't you want our tree to be perfect, so we win a prize? Maybe it will be a trip to Disney World."

  "Sorry, kiddo, but the prize is a luncheon sandwich platter for the entire department. Vacations to Disney World or Disney Land aren't part of the package."

  "Oh." Her expression sobered. "Well, it'd still be a good thing if we won, wouldn't it?"

  "You bet. In the meantime..." he jiggled a snowflake above her head "..-.we'd better finish this job before the patients start arriving on the doorstep."

  "OK." He reached toward a branch, but Jennie stopped him. "Not there, Daddy. Move it a little closer to the blue ball."

  "Yes, Alex. Do pay attention." Claire's eyes sparkled with humor.

  He faked a groan. "How lucky can a man get to have two women telling him what to do and how to do it?"

  "Extremely lucky," Claire replied. "It isn't every fellow who has the honor of working with two talented artists—right, Jennie?"

  Jennie giggled, and for the next ten minutes Alex did his best to satisfy both, although his daughter was definitely the more demanding of the two. Finally, the evergreen was covered with carefully positioned ornaments.

  Throughout the entire process, Alex was conscious of Claire as she stood in the background, offering only an occasional comment. At one point she moved toward the window and stared into the parking lot as if distancing herself from their project.

  He. couldn't imagine what had grabbed her attention. Their five-physician family practice waiting room boasted a view of the parking lot. His view, however, revealed a beautiful woman with whom any man would be proud to be seen, himself included.

  "Something's missing," Jennie announced.

  Alex took his mind off Claire and focused on the tree. "It looks good to me. What do you think, Claire?"

  She turned from the window to study the pine. "Something is missing," she finally said.

  "I thought so," Je
nnie said importantly. "But what?"

  "I'm not sure, but if we think about it, I'm sure we'll figure out the problem." Then, to Alex's surprise, she turned to stare out the window again.

  "Must be something interesting out there," he joked.

  "There is," she commented. "Either we have a driver who can't drive, or..." She stopped short.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Someone just parked on the sidewalk. It's a woman and she's— Oh, my."

  "She's what?" He started to see for himself, but Claire was already rushing to the door.

  "A woman is carrying in a child," she said crisply. "He's limp. Maybe unconscious."

  CHAPTER THREE

  Claire met the lady at the door with Alex at her side. "What's wrong?"

  "She's choking." The woman, in her mid-twenties, could hardly speak coherently. "Please help her."

  Wordlessly, Alex took the child. It was obvious from the little girl's struggle to gasp air and the bluish tinge to her lips that she was in trouble.

  Claire had performed the Heimlich maneuver on one occasion, but in that instance it had involved an adult and the situation hadn't been as advanced as this. How fortunate they were to have Alex on the scene.

  His first attempt was unsuccessful and the four-year-old hung over his arm like a rag doll.

  The woman moaned. "Shouldn't we find a doctor?"

  "You have," Claire assured her. "This is Dr Ridgeway. He's a family practice physician. While he's working on your daughter, tell us what happened."

  "Mandy's my niece, not my daughter. I'm Rebecca Hollister."

  She drew a shaky hand through her blonde hair, cut in sleek lines that suggested a trendy stylist. Her clothes were clearly designer label and Claire sensed that her experience with children was limited. Her story confirmed it.

  "I'm looking after Mandy today while my sister and her husband are Christmas shopping. We went to the convenience store to fill my gas tank and I bought Mandy some candy. We hadn't gone more than a few blocks before she started choking."

  Alex performed several more compressions to Mandy's diaphragm and suddenly a small piece of hard green candy shot across the floor.

  Mandy immediately began gulping air as tears brimmed in her blue eyes. Although Claire held the utmost faith in Alex's ability to turn the situation around, it was still a relief to fix the problem without resorting to more drastic medical measures.

  "Cool," Jennie said in the background.

  "Oh, thank you," Rebecca said, shaky. "Thank you so much."

  "Why don't we go into the waiting room to give Mandy a chance to recover?'' Claire suggested.

  "Good idea," Alex said. Once inside, he sat on the nearest chair with the youngster on his lap. "You're going to be fine,'' he said softly as he rubbed circles on her back. Mandy was too worn out to protest, but Claire didn't think she would have, even if she'd been able. Something about Alex seemed to inspire instant confidence from his young patients, and Mandy was clearly no exception.

  As Claire watched him give his calm attention, she understood why Jennie thought the sun rose and set on her father. He was clearly a natural at this parenting business. Regret that her own son wouldn't experience the same touch pierced her for a moment before she chased the fruitless emotion away. Fate had dealt this hand to them and she and Joshua would manage like countless other people in a similar situation.

  Rebecca hovered over Alex. "I can't thank you enough. I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't seen the sign and pulled in for help. I live out of town, so I didn't know where to find the hospital."

  "You're not far. It's only three blocks away," Claire said. "If you stay on this road, you'll run into it."

  "It's a good thing you stopped here, though," Alex said. "With a blocked airway, time is crucial."

  Mandy, obviously recovered from her ordeal, slipped off Alex's knee and stood by her aunt. "I'm OK now."

  Rebecca crouched down and hugged her. "Are you sure?"

  Mandy nodded. "I'm hungry."

  Alex laughed. "She's definitely going to be fine."

  Rebecca straightened. "What do I owe you?"

  "Nothing," he said. "Just drive home carefully. And don't give her any more big pieces of candy."

  "Believe me, I won't. My sister is going to pitch a fit when I tell her what happened." She looked guilty. "She doesn't allow Mandy to eat sweets, so I won't be in her good graces for a while. Ah, well. Better to have her scold me for breaking her candy rule than hating me because Mandy..." She glanced at her niece. "Well, you know what I mean."

  Claire smiled. "We do, and you're right."

  "That was really neat," Jennie exclaimed after Rebecca and Mandy had left. "Do you do stuff like that all the time?"

  Alex laughed aloud as he smiled at his daughter. "Our days usually aren't so exciting."

  "Speaking of exciting," Claire said, "we need to hurry and tidy the waiting room. Our patients will be arriving soon."

  "We still haven't figured out what's missing," Jennie reminded them.

  "Maybe we'll find something in the crate," Alex replied. "Let's look."

  Jennie held up a strand of gold beads. "What about these?"

  "Silver would be perfect, but not gold," Claire said as she rummaged through bags of red braid, colorful beads and ribbon in every color imaginable.

  Suddenly, Jennie squealed. "Oh, isn't she beautiful?"

  Claire glanced at what held Jennie so enthralled, and her heart seemed to skip a beat. She'd opened the box containing the angel.

  "Can we use her?" Jennie asked.

  "We bought a lighted snowflake," Alex pointed out.

  "A tree should have an angel on the top," she insisted. "It's tradition."

  "The snowflake would look better because of the other snowflakes on the tree," Claire said, trying to be her most convincing.

  "Maybe the angel is what our tree needs," Jennie said hopefully.

  Alex shook his head. "The snowflake stays."

  "I still think the angel should go on the top," Jennie whined as she stroked the figure nestled in tissue paper. "Especially because she looks like you." She lifted it up to show her father. "See?"

  "She does," Alex said in amazement. "The hair's longer, but otherwise the resemblance is uncanny."

  Claire didn't need to look at the tree-topper to know that the angel's tresses matched her own coppery shade. Three years ago, Ray had seen the similarity and had insisted on buying the angel because of it.

  "An angel on the tree and one in my arms," he'd teased her. "What more could a man want?"

  She forced the bitter-sweet memory aside. "What a coincidence."

  "Are you sure we can't use her?" Jennie wheedled.

  Alex took it out of the box to examine it more closely. "It stands by itself. Why don't we set her on the table instead?"

  "OK," Jennie acquiesced, "but she really belongs on the tree."

  "Maybe next year."

  With luck, someone else in the department would have this dubious honor, not Claire.

  "It's still missing something," Jennie reminded them.

  "The judging doesn't take place until Monday, so we have a few more days for inspiration to strike," Alex said. "As for me, I think you two have done a fantastic job."

  Jennie giggled as she preened under his praise. "Is it good enough to win the prize?"

  "I'm sure of it. Wouldn't you agree, Claire?"

  "Without a doubt," she answered.

  Although she said the right words, her voice sounded as strained as her smile. Before Alex could ask what was bothering her, she changed the subject. "Would you look at the time? I'd better call Maintenance to move this carton before our patients trip over it this afternoon."

  With that, she hurried away. Now perplexed, Alex watched her go.

  "How come she was in such a rush, Dad?''

  Alex wasn't going to speculate on Claire's behavior with his daughter. "She has a lot to do before we're open for business. Everything has
to be in order."

  "Oh." Satisfied by his explanation, Jennie adjusted one of her snowflakes.

  Alex's thoughts drifted back to his new nurse. Claire had been a refreshing change from his previous assistant. Rosemary Diaz had been a competent nurse, but organization hadn't been part of her vocabulary. How they'd functioned as well as they had was what he still considered an unsolved mystery.

  He'd never quite understood Rosemary's idea of order, or if she even knew what it meant. By contrast, Claire placed the paperwork in the appropriate in, out or review basket and neatly arranged their supplies in labeled drawers. He could actually find things for himself without feeling helpless or frustrated in his own domain. His day simply ran more smoothly.

  He liked being with Claire, and not just in their doctor-nurse roles. Quite by chance, one day several weeks ago, he'd gone to the clinic's employee cafeteria to grab a sandwich from the vending machine and had seen Claire sitting by herself. He'd joined her and had enjoyed himself so much that he'd made a point to "drop in" on Wednesdays ever since.

  Those thirty minutes of conversation always rejuvenated him, although, come to think about it, she didn't say too much about herself. From her interview, he knew she was twenty-nine, widowed and supported a two-year-old son. She was good friends with Dennis's nurse, Nora Laslow, and had applied for the opening as soon as Rosemary had followed her husband to Arizona. On the other hand, Claire spoke about Joshua quite often and he knew as much about him as he did his own daughter.

  He'd considered taking things to the next level and asking her to dinner and a movie, but his courage had always failed him. She'd never treated him any differently than she treated the other men in the practice—single, or married—so, if she wasn't as interested in him as he was her, asking her out could cause all sorts of problems.

  Yes, he was glad Claire's path was intertwined with his, but during his more lonely moments he wished that she worked for one of his partners. It would certainly simplify matters...

  Jennie interrupted his wayward thoughts. "I don't think she likes Christmas."

  "What makes you say that?"

  "She didn't seem excited about decorating the tree."