Annie O'Neil - The Surgeon's Christmas Wish

Her brow crinkled. This was hardly the time to be admiring someone’s build and athletic panache.

“Stop!” Tara knew her voice didn’t carry far on the slopes—but she didn’t care. Good looking or not, the snowboarder could have killed her. “Stop, you—you mountainside menace!”

Tara felt heat roil in her belly. How dare he endanger someone’s life?

The man seemed blissfully unaware of Tara’s increasingly irate attempts to get his attention. As she watched him disappear around the next bend, she felt her fury double. His type was exactly the reason Deer Creek needed doctors on constant duty.

It was just the sort of thoughtless behavior her ex would’ve—

Stop. Stop. Not going to go there. I am not going to go there. Something positive. Just think of something positive.

The new surgeon.

Thank goodness he was starting in a few days. Tara had been running the clinic on her own throughout the summer with the ad hoc help of the local search and rescue crew. Summer saw a steady trickle of hikers, river rafters and the occasional rock climber, but it was not as busy as the ski season. Not by a long shot.

Over the summer and fall, the relative solitude of the mountain retreat suited her. Neither did she mind the twenty-four-seven nature of the job, but having another colleague to throw ideas at was always useful when it came to sports-related injuries. Plus, with freshly opened slopes and the start of the Thanksgiving vacation, five patients a day had the potential to become twenty.

Dr. Fraser MacKenzie’s résumé had genuinely impressed her. He had done ski seasons all over the world, following a five-year stint as a British military surgeon in the Royal Marines. She wasn’t surprised to see that after seasons in France, Italy and New Zealand he’d wanted to add the American Rockies to his list.

Tara normally didn’t hire unknown seasonal staff, but the colleague she had been relying on from last year had called just two weeks earlier to say he was very sorry but he’d just accepted a tenured position at a hospital in Banff. She could hardly begrudge him such an enviable post. The chief of sports medicine in a prime resort hospital? He would’ve been a fool to turn it down.

Can I trust this one to last the whole season?

She’d seen other resort clinics suffer from multiple cases of doctors jumping ship early. The call of higher mountains, steeper slopes, a fresh start in a new hemisphere.

Tara frowned discerningly as she took in the majesty of the mountains around her. The Rockies were enough for her. Heck, Deer Creek was enough for her. She shook her head, knowing full well she was hardly one to cast aspersions. Just as the season-hoppers might be fleeing their pasts, she too was in her own form of escape. Deer Creek was where she had been hiding for well over a year. And being a lone wolf suited her down to a T.

Fraser pulled up to the clinic with a professional swish. He’d done higher-level Alpine training in the military, but skiing had always been something he’d enjoyed for pleasure as well. Snowboarding was a welcome adrenaline rush to add to his repertoire.

Slipping off his boots, Fraser popped his snowboard onto the clinic’s purpose-built stand and jogged, sockfooted, into the wood-shingled building. He couldn’t stop a smile from slipping onto his full lips. Mountainside menace. That was a good one.

He felt a quick stab of guilt about his near collision on the piste with the black-haired beauty—but it was his first day of work and an emergency was an emergency. Besides, wearing a white ski suit was hardly an advertisement to your presence on the slopes. Even if it looked as though someone had poured Giselle Bundschen’s body into the woman’s form-fitting all-in-one. He’d been lucky he’d seen the red bobble on her hat.

Fraser was relieved to note that the building’s old-fashioned exterior hid an incredibly modern clinic. The Deer Creek website had shown photos of first-aid and examination rooms kitted out with everything a doctor needed up here. Well, everything but a full operating theatre and accompanying staff. Mind you, those were close enough, down at the Valley Hospital. Just a scenic trip down to the proper town on the gondola, or in an ambulance if the weather suited, and, voilà —everything a surgeon could dream of.

A petite redhead with a pixie cut leaned through a pair of swinging double doors, “Dr. MacKenzie? That was fast.”

What was the nurse’s name again? They’d only had a quick phone conversation and he’d been paying more attention to the details of the patient. Lisa? Lise? Liesel! Liesel the nurse and Tara the doctor. He’d better get those right.

Liesel’s voice sounded definitively Antipodean, despite her Germanic name. Australian, he would’ve guessed. If looks were anything to go by, she seemed a cheery sort. They’d work well together. Cheerful and easygoing. Just the sort of relationship he liked.

Fraser’s knowledge of his new boss was pretty limited, too. Taking the job had been a last-minute move, just like the decision to leave his previous post. And the one before that.

Never mind. He was good at his job. Emergency medicine was second nature to him after his time in the forces. He had no concerns in that department.

If his employers didn’t think seeing the world was a good enough reason to move on after a season on their hills, then—well—it was time to move on. Hopefully, the new boss wouldn’t come loaded with it’s-time-to-put-down-your-roots advice.

At the very least, he was hoping to learn something new from her. A quick internet search at the airport for Dr. Tara Braxton’s background showed an impressive tenure at one of America’s best orthopedic research hospitals. Then—poof—nothing until he found her in the clinic here at Deer Creek. The picture-perfect mountain resort was a far cry from the lofty heights of New York City’s medical elite if ever there was one.

“Dr. MacKenzie, the little boy and his mother are in Exam One.” The nurse’s warm Australian voice brought him back into the room.

“Yes, sorry, love. Excuse the lack of shoes. I was just—”

A fresh blast of piney mountain air flooded into the waiting room, along with a familiar-looking woman. She didn’t look pleased. Miraculously, her mood didn’t detract from her take-your-breath-away beauty. Tall and slender, clearly a regular on the slopes and without a speck of make-up. Enhancing that level of natural beauty wasn’t necessary. Apple-red lips, glossy black hair and creamy skin with his particular favorite, a smattering of freckles across the nose. Did those eyes of hers sparkle like starlit ebony when she was in a good mood? Fraser had seen his share of beauties in his time, but this woman hit every mark. Too bad relationships were off limits for him. The impact she’d had on him in this handful of seconds was like a fully weighted sucker punch. If ever someone had presented a need to re-examine the rulebook, this woman was it. In spades.

“I am going to have to have a word with the snow patrol. They need to start at dawn,” the woman growled in Liesel’s direction, oblivious of Fraser and his approving gaze. “Someone’s got to crack down on these hillside hooligans!” He watched with amusement as her eyes moved from Liesel’s bewildered face to himself. Here it comes, here … it … comes! The not-so-slow dawn of recognition.

“You?”

“If ‘hillside hooligans’ or ‘mountain menaces’ are to whom you are referring, then you’ve got me.” Fraser grinned broadly. He watched as she physically recoiled from him. That was a new one.

He pulled himself up to his full height as she fixed him with a potent glare. Wow. Usually a smile won the ladies over. This one clearly had her own set of hurdles to jump. He dropped the smile and jokey tone. He was a doctor and a patients’ needs came first. Posturing was a bunch of nonsense. She was going to have to get a grip and act like a grown-up.

“I am sorry for having distressed you, but I’m afraid I’ve got an emergency here at the clinic. So, if you’ll excuse me?” He turned towards the examination room Liesel had indicated held the patient.

“What? Wait a minute!” The woman’s voice hardened. “This is my clinic, so I think you’ll find any patients waiting here will be for me. Me or a Dr. MacKenzie, who’s meant to appear later in the—”

Tara felt her mouth go dry for the second time in less than five minutes.

“Wait a minute. You’re Dr. MacKenzie.”

“Nice to meet you.” Fraser instinctively glanced at the exam room, hoping this interrogation would end fairly quickly. Then again, this wasn’t strictly the best way to meet your new boss. “Dr. Braxton, I presume?”

Fraser offered her another smile, this time secretly enjoying the pretty flush of scarlet creeping into Tara’s cheeks as he extended a hand towards her. Good. He did have an effect on her.

Tara curtly took his proffered hand and offered a quick one-two, business-only shake. Was she always this spirited or was it exclusive to nearly being run over by a new colleague? He suspected the former.

“Excuse me, doctors.” Liesel’s voice broke through the tension-thick air. “We’ve got a little boy in here with a black eye, a potential concussion, sore wrist and a very worried mother.”

Tara wished she could scrub away the flush of heat from her cheeks. Unlikely, as Liesel’s comment only caused it to deepen. Fraser MacKenzie had actually taken her breath away and she wasn’t happy about it. Not in the slightest. Particularly as she had worked so hard to separate work and emotions. The last thing she wanted to compromise was her professional duty. And she was most certainly not going to let a gallivanting snow jockey get the upper hand.

“Of course. Sorry, Liesel. Why didn’t you radio me?”

“I tried, but you didn’t respond.” Liesel glanced at the clipboard she held in the crook of her arm. “The little boy’s mum, a Mrs. Carroll, was so anxious I rang Dr. MacKenzie on the off chance he was nearby and he said he’d race over.”

“He raced over all right,” Tara muttered under her breath, as she moved her hand down to her belt to check her radio. The little green light wasn’t shining.

“Dead batteries?” His smile was friendly but Tara was sure she could hear a patronizing tone in Dr. MacKenzie’s voice. “Could’ve happened to anyone.”

“Batteries often freeze at high altitude, as I’m sure you know.” Tara quirked an eyebrow at him and forced the corners of her lips to turn upwards into a bright smile.

Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut? Tara felt like kicking herself—and kicking Fraser MacKenzie. Did his eyes really need to twinkle with delight when he rubbed in what a schoolgirl error she had made? This was hardly a competition for who could be the better doctor.

Batteries frequently froze up here at high elevation. Fact.

Even so, it was a stupid mistake. What if she hadn’t been near the clinic and a patient required critical care? She’d have to renew the vigor of her checks every morning and stick a spare pair of batteries into the insulated pocket of her ski suit before she went out. More importantly, even if Fraser did make Braveheart look like a wimpy nerd, she needed to make sure this encounter ended with her new employee understanding who ran things here. And it certainly wasn’t him. She began to unzip her ski jacket and put on her best charm-school voice.

“Dr. MacKenzie, since you haven’t had a chance to settle in, I’ll take this patient.” Before he could protest, she slipped past him and opened the door, forcing herself to look up into those blue-as-a-lake eyes before she disappeared into the exam room.