'Tis the Season: A Collection of Mimi's Christmas Books (32 page)

“Marcus, surely you aren’t going to the hospital again tonight. I realize that you’re concerned for this girl, but really! You hardly know her, and I do have something I wish to talk to you about.” Madeline looked particularly fetching in her purple satin caftan trimmed with silver. She carried two small goblets in her hand and passed one over before she resumed her place across the table from him.

“We’ve been together throughout dinner, and you’ve spent the whole mealtime chatting about your day. What more could you possibly have to talk about?”

“I hate it when you try to rush me this way. I had it all fixed in my head that we would spend a lovely evening together and discuss our—well, our expectations of life here in Bury, shall we say.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Please, Mother, get to the point.”

“Marcus, shush! She’s beating around the bush because whatever she has to tell you is important.”

“Sorry, old girl. I’m being insensitive. Please take your time.”
“As long as it’s in this century.”

“Shush!”

“You know how much I love Bury, and how important it is for me—for us—to settle into the neighbourhood. Yes, I know you do, dear.”

He didn’t nod, but then again she only saw what she wanted to see, so he let it go.

“Well, the vicar and I have come up with a wonderful idea for a special celebration to be organized for Christmas Eve. We talked for a long time, and Father Witherby mentioned that because his parishioners have helped the Sisters with the children at the orphanage so much this past year, he thinks he can talk the bishop into allowing those children to come and perform a nativity for us at the church hall. It has the largest seating in the village, and would be the most sensible choice.”

“What a wonderful idea! The children will love it.”

“Not just the children, I’d wager.”

“It’s very important to me that the night be successful. If we can organize proper advertisement, we can get people from all around to come. Think of the money it’ll bring to the church and the orphanage.”

“Why didn’t you just say so? I can have someone in my office organize posters and any kind of advertisements you want. You know you can count on me, dear. Now, I must go.” He rose, only to have his mother point at his chair.

“Sit. There’s more.”

He lowered himself and peered closely at the fidgeting woman. She has something up her sleeve, he thought, something he wasn’t going to like at all. “No! Whatever you have cooked up in that diabolical head of yours, the answer is no.”

“But Marcus, you would make a wonderful Joseph. It’s for such a good cause.”

“Stop that infernal giggling.”

“You told me you missed my giggles. And she’s right. You’d make a marvellous Joseph.”

“By all that’s holy, I will not be talked into this, Mother. Take pity on me. I have a business to run, and, as it is, everything at the office is way behind. Look, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll find you a Joseph, one who’ll be far better at the part than I will.”

“Oh, Marcus, I did have my heart set on you—”

“Well, just unset it. Tell me where and when you want this paragon, and I’ll have a perfect candidate there for you and the vicar.”

“Yes, dear, all right.” She turned away, a picture of despair. Little did she know that he caught her ensuing gleeful expression in the mirror she now faced.

“Why, she’s a shyster.”

“Isn’t every woman?”

“No! Well—not always. You would have given her what she wanted without the theatrics. Wouldn’t you have?”
She added the last part after he huffed.

“What do you think?”

His grin stayed in place while he trudged into the dark night, plodding through the heavy snowbanks all the way to the well-lit hospital. Abbie buzzed, trying to work out the answer to his question. He had no intention of enlightening her. Let her figure it out for herself.

After he’d stamped off the slush, he stopped by the nurse’s desk to inquire about Abbie.

“Good evening, Nurse. I’ve come to visit Abigail Taylor. Have there been any changes in her condition?”

“She’s the same, sir. There’ve been lots of visitors, and her room is bombarded with flowers, but, sadly, she hasn’t moved whatsoever.”

Marcus thanked the nurses and walked slowly toward where his little friend lay in her hospital bed.
Hmm, that’s funny
.
The door is closed. Must be the doctors are examining her, or the nurses are in there.
He loitered around outside the room until his patience wore thin. Then he peeked through where the curtain didn’t quite cover the glass. “What the…!”

He slammed into the room and grabbed the scruff of the fellow who’d had his hands all over her. He shook him like a dog would shake a rat before the killing. “Hello, Frank. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Oh, Marcus, stop it. He wasn’t hurting me.”

“No, but he had his hands on you. Therefore, I’m going to break his neck.”
His intentions must have been reflected in his expression, because Frank blanched and visibly began to sweat.

“Let go of me. I’ve done nothing. I’m a paramedic. All I did was check her heartbeat.” He looked at Marcus and added, “I swear.”

“I saw you touching her chest.”

Frank’s pallor whitened and his voice rose. “I did no such thing. I checked the pulse rate in her neck, is all. And I might have held her hand. But I’ve a right. She’s almost my girlfriend.”

“She is not your girlfriend, and you have no rights. Do you understand? I don’t want you coming here and bothering her again. Now get lost.” He gave the other man a shove that, inadvertently, had him smacking his head on the door. Frank winced and rubbed the spot with one hand, while with the other he pointed his finger toward the enraged man.

“You’ll hear from me lawyer, ya big brute.” He swung the door shut behind him, but the slam never happened, due to the automatic closing mechanism kicking in.

“My hero…”
She sighed dramatically.

“That’s it! You’re out of here. The thought of him or anyone else coming in and taking advantage sickens me. What kind of friends do you have?”

“You were too angry to really pay attention. Frank was telling the truth. He didn’t—as you so indelicately insist—take advantage, Marcus. He’s a decent bloke, when you come right down to it. I do trust him. So stop being theatrical. And promise me you’ll apologize the next time you see him. I won’t have you bullying my friends.”

“I will not! Just the thought of anyone laying their hands on your lovely body without your consent sickens me. The faster we get you back to yourself, the happier I’ll be.”

“Do you really think I have a lovely body?”

He felt his temper fade and the heat in his gut lessen. A different sort of feeling was now overtaking the nausea he’d experienced when he’d first entered the room. Hot waves of emotion suffused his hardening body to the point of discomfort. A surge of the euphoria he’d gotten hooked on lately drenched his insides, filling him with passion.

“Yes. Not only your body. You—are lovely. Your heart and your spirit.”
He opened up the gates and let her feel some of the overwhelming sensations that thinking of her produced inside of him, sensations of ardour and intense desire.

“Oh, Marcus. I do adore you.”
When the two opened spirits combined, they flashed so hot he was forced to sit. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the palm, his tongue licking the inside teasingly.

“Dr. Andrews better have the answer, or, I swear, we’re off to London and the best they have there. I want you back inside your body—the sooner the better.”

“Are you so impatient to get rid of me?”
She teased, but just a little.

“No. I’m impatient to truly meet you in person.”

“I hope you like me.”

“Darling girl, I’m way past liking.”

****

A stalker utilized the opening in the curtains that Marcus had peered through earlier. His sneaky mother couldn’t sit home another evening and wonder another minute. She needed to see Abbie Taylor for herself, this paragon of virtue. The one that so many loved—including, it seemed, her son, if she was judging his actions correctly. Seeing as how he’d just kissed the girl, she had to accept that his emotions were indeed involved.

Oh-oh! He was leaving. She waited around the corner until he’d left the vicinity, and then she slipped into the room. As she approached the bed, a warning rang in her head, like a sixth sense, a knowing that had her hackles rising. She advanced until her slow steps came to a dead stop by the side of the bed. Abbie Taylor lay unmoving, white pillows and sheets a perfect setting to frame the oh-so-familiar, dark-haired beauty.

“My God!” Madeline grabbed her chest and collapsed onto the side of the mattress. It can’t be! Feeling hysteria rise, she knew the truth lay right in front of her.

A range of emotions blasted through her from disbelief, to fear, and finally to a strange kind of relief. Her eyes, check her eyes, she thought. Before she reached to gently lift the girl’s eyelids, her hands trembled so much that she first had to wiggle and shake them.

Blue as a delphinium, the same as her father’s. Somehow she’d known it but had to be sure. What in the world must she do now? Should she reveal the secret she’d kept for years? Did she have the right to tear apart so many people’s lives?

She whimpered, and the sound had her covering her mouth—as if it might wake up the sleeping patient. But nothing could wake her. For the last couple of days, everyone she’d met had talked about the strange happening and how the doctors found no physical evidence to account for this mystifying coma. Was it possible there was a genetic solution? Her head dropped into her hands, and she groaned.

Madeline knew herself very well. She hated confrontation. But however uncomfortable this might make her feel, she couldn’t turn the other way. It looked as if only she had the power to right the wrong done to this beautiful girl.

Chapter Eleven

“Marcus, I’m frightened. What if Dr. Andrews has no explanation, either? Where will we turn next?”

“Abbie, don’t worry. We’ll take this one step at a time. There are a lot of doctors out there we can pursue. Truth to tell, though, I do like the sound of this fellow. I’ve asked around, and everyone I’ve talked to seems very taken with him.”

“I don’t know if I told you, but I used to know his niece, Dani. She adored him and considered him a genius. But then, she’d be slightly prejudiced, I imagine.”

“What happened to her?”
He glanced around him at the other vehicles and pedestrians, then wondered if they saw his head bobbing about like a person carrying on a conversation but with no one else in the car. One woman, standing at the curb, motioned for him to move on as she stepped back and refused to cross the road.

“
Why do you ask that?”
Abbie’s questioning tone made him realize she hadn’t listened to her own words.

“You did say that you used to know her. Since I can’t imagine you ever ignoring a friend, I gather she’s moved on.”

“Actually, you’re right. She’s a brilliant, best-selling author who got married this past year and moved to America with her husband. I remember thinking at the time how strange their romance was. She’d only known him a week when they got engaged. But they’re very happy. Her ten-year-old daughter, Amy, dotes on her new father, who is a reporter with the Chicago Sun-Times. Oh, and I almost forgot. Dani is also the benefactress for The Gardens. After a fire in the old Kingsly boarding house, where the seniors used to live, both she and her husband, along with Dr. Andrews, were instrumental in overseeing the construction for the new home.”

To keep her from worrying overmuch, Marcus continued asking her questions as they drove to Dr. Andrews’ office.
“You say she has a ten-year-old daughter? Was she married before? By the way, how did you know her so well?”

“So many questions. Well, let’s see. Over the years, Dani turned up often at the orphanage to help the Sisters. We became friends then, as she was only a couple of years older than me. An only child herself, she loved playing with the younger children and the babies, and we would organize games and parties for them. Then, when she turned seventeen, Amy, her own daughter, was born out of wedlock, into a lot of discrimination and gossip. Her uncle became her staunchest supporter.”

“I knew I’d like the bloke. Now, here’s how we’ll handle the interview. We’ll tell him what we’ve told the others, and hope he’ll be able to examine you and find a reason for your, ahhh, ailment.”

“Hold it! I thought we were going to tell him the real truth. I mean, about me leaving my body and joining you in yours—I mean, in spirit.”

“Did you just hear what you said? This man is an esteemed psychiatrist. He’d have us locked in a padded cell before the day was out. Play it my way, Abbie. Please. For the time being, let’s first get the feel for this man’s abilities. Trust me, it’s important.”

“Have it your way, then.”
She sniffed.
“I bow to your greater intelligence.”

Marcus felt her disapproval as she faded into her sacred space. But it was he who would have to face a respected physician and blather on about spirits and body snatching and such gibberish. It would make him look like a complete moron. He couldn’t do it!