The Army Doc's Christmas Angel. Annie O'Neil
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Naomi put up her hands and laughed. “Not me!” That ship of possibility had sailed long ago.
“Why not? You’re beautiful. Amazing at your job. You’d be a real catch.”
If cowardice was something a man could ever love, sure. But it wasn’t. Which was precisely why she kept herself just out of love’s reach.
She was just about say “Finn Morgan” to be contrary, but stopped herself. The man had scowling down to a fine art. At least around her. But the season of good cheer was upon them so she stuck to what had served her best when her past pounded at that locked door at the back of her mind: a positive attitude. “I reckon Mr. Holkham down in the cafeteria could do with a bit of a love buzz.”
Evie threw back her head and laughed. “A love buzz? I don’t know if that’s a bit too energetic for him. What is he? Around seventy?”
“I think so. I love that Theo hired retirees who wanted to keep active, but...if anyone needs a love buzz it’s him.” She made a silly face. “Anything to make him chirpier when he serves up the lasagna. Who wants garlic bread with a side of gloom?”
“Good point.”
Naomi could almost see the wheels turning in Evie’s mind...already trying to figure out who she could couple with the sweet, if not relatively forlorn, older gentleman. She’d tried to tease a smile from him every day since the hospital had opened, to no avail. Perhaps she should ask him for a coffee one day. Maybe he was just lonely. A widower.
She knew more than most that with love came loss and that’s why being cheerful, efficient and professional was her chosen modus operandi.
“Ooh, Gracie, look. It’s Daddy!” Evie took her daughter’s teensy hand and made it do a little wave as Ryan approached with a broad smile and open arms.
Naomi gave Evie’s arm a quick squeeze and smiled. “I’d better get up there.”
“All right. I’ll leave you to it, then,” Evie said distractedly, her eyes firmly fixed on her future husband.
Naomi took the stairs two at a time all the way up to the fifth floor, as she usually did. She put on the “feel good” blinkers and refocused her thoughts. She was feeling genuinely buoyed by her last session. A cheer-worthy set of results for her patient followed by a discharge. What a way to end a work day!
Watching a little girl skip—skip!—hand in hand with her parents straight out of the hospital doors and away home, where she would be able to spend Christmas with her family. A Christmas miracle for sure. Four months ago, when Violet had been helicoptered in from a near-fatal car accident, Naomi had had her doubts.
It was on days like this her job was the perfect salve to her past. Little girl power at its finest. And knowing she was playing a role in it made it that much better.
If she could keep her thoughts trained on the future, she could hopefully harness some of that same drive and determination in Adao. This was definitely not the time to let her own fears and insecurities bubble to the surface.
Then again, when was it the time?
Never. That was when.
So! Eyes on the prize and all would be well.
She hit the landing for the fifth floor and did a little twirl before pushing the door open.
Happy, happy, happy—Oh.
Not so happy.
The doctor’s hunched shoulders and pained expression spoke volumes.
And not just any doctor.
Finn Morgan.
Of all the doctors at Hope, he was the one she had yet to exchange a genuine smile with. Well...him and the cafeteria chap, but she had to work with Mr. Morgan and he made her feel edgy. The man didn’t do cheery. Not with her anyway.
Some days she had half a mind to tell him to snap out of it. He was a top surgeon at an elite private hospital. He worked on cases only the most talented of surgeons could approach with any hope of success. And still... King of the Grumps.
It wasn’t as if he wasn’t surrounded by people doing their best to create a warm, loving environment at Hope Hospital, no matter what was going on in their personal lives.
Not that she’d ever admit it, but most days she woke up in a cold sweat, her heart racing and arms reaching out for a family she would never see again.
If she could endure that and show up to work with a smile on her face, then whatever was eating away at him could be left at home as well.
She pushed the door open wider, took a step forward then froze. Her breath caught in her throat at the sound of the low moan coming from his direction. As silently as she could, she let the door from the stairwell close in front of her so that all she could see of him through the small glass window was his rounded back moving back and forth as he kneaded at something. His knee? His foot? She’d noticed a slight limp just the once but the look he’d shot her when he’d realized she’d seen it had been enough to send her scuttling off in the other direction.
Even so...
He was sitting all alone in the top floor’s central reception area, his back to her, the twinkling lights of the city beyond him outlining his broad-shouldered physique.
Her gut instinct was to go to Finn... Mr. Morgan, she silently corrected herself...but the powerful “back off” vibes emanating from him kept her frozen at the stairwell door.
She’d been flying so high after finishing with Violet she’d thought she’d put her extra energy to use helping Adao settle in. She’d already been assigned as his physiotherapist—work that wouldn’t begin until after his surgery with Finn Morgan—but she thought meeting him today might help him know there was someone who understood his world. His fears.
She pressed her hand against the glass as another low moan traveled across from the sofa where Finn remained resolutely hunched over his leg.
Something about his body language pierced straight through to her heart. A fellow lost soul trying to navigate a complicated world the best he could?
Or just a grump?
From what she’d seen, the man wouldn’t know a good mood if it bit him on the nose.
She pulled her gaze away from him and searched the skyline for Adao’s helicopter. She’d come here to find her patient, not snoop on a doctor clearly having a private moment.
She had little doubt the little boy was experiencing so many things that she had all those years ago when she’d arrived in the UK from Zemara. The language barrier. The strange faces. No family.
She swallowed against the lump forming in her throat and squeezed her eyes tight.
It was a long time ago.
Eleven years, two months and a day, to be exact.
Long enough to have moved on.
At least that’s what logic told her. But how did you ever forget the day you saw everyone you loved herded into a truck and driven away off to the mountains? Mountains rumored to be scarred with pre-dug mass graves for anyone the rebels deemed unfit for their indiscriminatingly cruel army.
Blinking back the inevitable sting of tears, she gave herself a sharp shake and forced herself to paste on a smile. Her life was a good one. She was doing her dream job. In one of the most beautiful cities in the world, no less. Every day she was able to help and nurture children who, against the odds, always found a way to see the good in things.
So that’s what she did, too. Focusing on the future was the only way she had survived those early days. And the only way she could live with herself now.
She pressed her forehead to the small, cool window in the door. In the dimly lit reception area—the lights were always lowered after seven at night—Finn