Poles Apart (10 page)

“Custard creams?”

“You haven’t tasted custard creams?”

Niklas chuckled. “No.”

“Then you’ll be really glad, too, that I
forgot about them.” She licked her lips. “Soft, crumbly, melt in your mouth...”

Only one thing he wanted melting in his
mouth. Niklas’s gaze returned to Sarah’s lips and remained there. He couldn’t
help it.

Seemingly, neither could Sarah.

Breaking her gaze from his lips, she
cleared her throat. “Uh... I should go and get those biscuits, shouldn’t I?”

She eased past Niklas, pausing as she
did to cast a coy look his way.

Without thinking, he stretched out his
arm, touching the other side of the doorway, blocking her thoroughfare. When
she didn’t protest, Niklas slipped the other arm around her waist, drawing her
closer.

She should put a stop to this, but she
had no desire to do any stopping. Not under the mistletoe. With Niklas.

Sarah’s breath hitched as the hand that
had blocked her path moments before travelled up her back, fingers soon losing their
way in her hair, willing her face nearer. Niklas’s aftershave wrapped around
her, and she closed her eyes for just a moment as she breathed in deep,
savoring the woodsy aroma. She shivered. Was it that cold in here? She should
ask Niklas to light a fire. Oh right, he’d already done that...deep within her.

His blue gaze held hers. Irresistible.

“You do know we’re both underneath the
mistletoe?”

She thrilled at the huskiness in his
voice. Not trusting herself to speak, she moved her head up and down.

“And...you are familiar with the
mistletoe tradition?” A smile eased onto his lips, his mouth inches from hers.

Stop talking. You’re torturing me.

Once again, Sarah nodded.

“And yet you’re still standing here?” He
glanced upward. “Under the mistletoe...with me.” Another inch and their noses
touched. “Does this mean that—”

Sliding her hand behind Niklas’s head,
she helped him journey the remaining distance, silencing him with her kiss.
Enough talking.

Research. This is just research.

Right...

Sarah’s
couch had never felt so cozy as today. Niklas didn’t want what had started under
the mistletoe to end, but he had a dinner to cook and a dog about to go into
labor waiting at home.

He gazed down at Sarah lying in his arms,
head resting against his chest, and her feet curled up on the couch. Could she
hear his accelerated heartbeat? Leaning forward, he kissed the top of her head.
“Any regrets about hanging that mistletoe?”

Sarah tipped her head and turned to look
at Niklas. Smiling, she reached up and slid her arm around the back of his
neck. “Only one. I wish you’d noticed it sooner.”

“Oh, I noticed. Right from the day you
hung it there.” He smoothed his hand over her hair. Like velvet. “I should go, if
we’re to eat tonight. I also need to check on Mi— My sauna.” That was close. Earlier
he’d been convinced she knew the truth, yet she hadn’t mentioned a thing—seemed
blissfully unaware. Soon enough though, she would know. In fact, the moment she
walked through his door.

Wanting to savor the afternoon for a few
more moments, Niklas chose to remain silent on the matter a little while
longer.

“You planning another crazy dunk in the
ice hole?” Sarah wrinkled her nose.

“Maybe. You want to try?”

She shook her head. “Not on your life.”

“Some things are actually not that
difficult, Sarah. Once you do them, you’ll be surprised how liberating and
exhilarating they can be.”

“I will take your word for it.” She
pushed herself up into a sitting position and combed her hair with her fingers.
“Why don’t I come with you now? It’s not that long until dinner. I could help
you cook.”

“You don’t need to write?”

She smiled. “I’ll catch up tomorrow.”

“All right.” Seemed there’d be no
postponing Sarah knowing about the dogs. By God’s grace, perhaps they’d work
things out.

Niklas took a slow drive back to his
house, relishing the feeling of Sarah’s body pressed against his as she sat
behind him on the snowmobile, her arms holding tight around his waist. At the
same time he loathed what waited for him. Truth. It could hurt, and he had no
desire for Sarah to go home hurting, or hungry. But how could he spare her? If
he’d only walked to her place, they could’ve taken a slow stroll home through
the thick snow, hand in hand, putting off the inevitable for longer.

Risto barked as the front door opened. He
bounded over to Niklas and sprung against his chest. Wrapping the dog in a bear
hug, Niklas laughed.

Soon as Risto was free, he ran circles
around Niklas and Sarah, herding them toward the whelping box where Mila lay
panting. Beside her a newborn pup gave soft grunts as it blindly sought its
mother.

“Mila, at last you’re in labor.”

“What?” Sarah rushed to the whelping
box. She glanced up at Niklas, eyes wide. “Something’s happening.”

Moving closer, Niklas rested his hand on
Sarah’s shoulder and looked into the box. “Pup number two’s on the way.” Time
to get rid of daddy dog. “Sarah, would you mind taking Risto to my room and
locking him inside? I need to get a fire going in here. Fast.”

“He’s not allowed to stay for the
confinement? He’s the dad.”

“No. His presence will only upset Mila.”

“All right. You know what you’re doing.”
She slipped her hand under Risto’s collar. “Come, boy. Let’s see what’s down
this way.”

Risto glanced back at Mila, giving a
cheering bark before obliging Sarah a stroll down the passage.

By the time she returned, Niklas had discarded
his snow clothes. The fire he’d built roared in the hearth, and the second pup
had been born. He’d tied blue thread around the puppies’ necks—one puppy with light
blue, the other one with dark—and covered their small, writhing bodies with a
soft blanket.

“Boys?”

Niklas nodded. “Yes. Healthy, and both a
good size, too.”

Sarah stripped off her jacket, snow
pants and boots then knelt beside Niklas. The side of her body brushed up
against his. “I’m sorry I took so long. Risto didn’t want to settle, so I sat
with him awhile.”

“Thank you.” Niklas planted a kiss on
Sarah’s cheek just as Mila began to pant faster once again. He turned his
attention to the dog. “Another on the way, girl? Slow down, take your time.
We’ve got all night.”

“Will she be in labor long?”

Niklas encased her hand with his. “It’s
difficult to say. Could be a few hours...could be many. Probably the latter.
Golden retrievers are notorious for taking a long time to give birth. And this
is her first litter, so I doubt it will go fast.”

Drawing her into his embrace, Niklas
pressed his lips to the top of her head. “I—I need to explain about—”

“There’ll be time later.” Shifting her
gaze from the birthing mother to him, she raised her brows. “I think puppy
number three is about to be born.”

“But you need to underst—”

“I do understand. You’re doing what you
have to. It’s your job.”

Not yet. Being Santa would only come
when his father was no longer able to. But was she even speaking about that?

She was right, though. There’d be time
later.

The third pup slid from the birthing
canal, cocooned in the transparent membrane. Mila immediately set about
removing the sac with her tongue and cutting the umbilical cord with her teeth.

Niklas ruffled the fur at her neck. “
Hyvää
koira
.” He glanced at Sarah. Her face was ashen. “Are you all right?”

Her head moved up and down, ever so
slightly, in her wordless response. Her pallor told an entirely different
story.

“Have you ever seen a birth, Sarah?” The
manner in which she responded confused Niklas— raised shoulders combined with slight
side to side and up and down head movements, neither a yes or a no. “Why don’t
you lie down on the couch? Watching a birth for the first time can be distressing.”

“Can I lie beside the fire where it’s
warm?”

“Of course. Would you like a blanket?”

Nodding, she crawled to the spot Mila so
loved and curled up on the reindeer rug. It didn’t take long for her to doze
off.

Mila birthed one more pup then rested.
She wasn’t finished though. There were still several pups inside her, waiting
to be born. It was good she rested. Sarah, too. It gave him time to prepare dinner.
What should he make?

Niklas checked his cupboards—fortunately
somewhat fuller than Sarah’s. He opened the refrigerator and scanned the
shelves, noting what dishes he could cook with the ingredients on hand.
Kasvissosekeitto
.
It was the perfect night for cream of vegetable soup. Quick and easy to make,
and it could sit on the stove for hours. Who knew what time Sarah might waken?
The assortment of potato, carrot, cauliflower, peas, onion, mushrooms and
lentils should help perk her. And the fresh buns
Äiti
had baked and
given to him that morning would finish the meal well.

The thought of one of his favorite
dishes sent his saliva glands into overdrive. He swallowed and pulled the large
pot from the shelf above him.

The soup simmering on the stove, Niklas
assisted Mila further with the birth of each pup while Sarah slept off her
malaise. By nine pups, the dog began to tire. Removing the membrane sacs became
more and more cumbersome. Niklas helped so as not to lose any of her litter.
Those sacs needed to come off speedily.

The birth went much faster than he expected.
Poor Sarah slept through it all. Just as well, perhaps. He couldn’t deal with
two females requiring his attention.

Niklas gazed down at the dozen
wheat-colored bodies writhing in the whelping box, shades of blue, red, pink,
orange, green, and yellow around their necks. Surely, there couldn’t be many
more?

He glanced back at Sarah as she stirred.

“Hi...” Her voice slurred.

“
Hei
. You sleep well?”

She nodded. “I didn’t realize how tired
I was. Must be all the late nights.” She blinked and stretched her eyes,
attempting to shake off the aftereffects of her nap. “Have I been sleeping
long?”

“A few hours.”

“The puppies? Are they all born?”

“I’m not sure. I think so.”

Sarah bolted upright and crawled across
to Niklas. She peeked over the side of the box. “There’s so many.”

“A dozen is rather an impressive
number.”

Her eyes moistened. “I’m sorry I missed
it all.”

How he’d love to take her in in arms and
pull her close, wipe those tears away, but he’d only just helped deliver what
was hopefully the last pup. Instead he brushed his lips over hers. “So am I.” This
would have been such an amazing experience to share with her.

Sarah’s gaze returned to the newborns.
“They’re so small,” she whispered.

“Not for long. Soon this house will be
too small for them all.”

“You’re keeping them?”

A chuckle erupted as he shook his head.
“I wish I could, but no. I already have homes for most of them. But I’ll have
to find a few more. I wasn’t anticipating such a big litter.”

Sarah scrunched her nose right before a
smile spread across her face. “They’re so cute. I wish I could take one. But—” She
drew in a deep breath. “South Africa’s so far away, and I’ll be heading home
long before they’re ready to leave their mother.”

“You could—”

“Oh look. There’s another one coming.”

Stay
.

“Mila...” The dog looked up at him with
sad eyes as she panted through the pain, exhausted. “Is this the last?” He hoped
so. She couldn’t go on just popping out puppies.

He helped her birth yet another, the pup
in the sac far smaller than its siblings. The runt. Unlucky number thirteen?

Wiping away the membrane, Niklas could
tell this one was in trouble. His brow furrowed as he released a long sigh. It
probably wouldn’t make it.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Panic tinged
Sarah’s voice, and her hands stretched toward the latest addition.

“He’s not breathing.”

Her fingers trembling, she touched the
puppy’s wet fur. “C—can’t you do artificial respiration? It c—can be done on
dogs.”

Niklas wrapped the male puppy in a small
blanket and drew it close to his chest. Gazing down, he shook his head. “Not on
this little one. He’s stillborn.”

“Noooo.” Sarah’s gut-wrenching cry
filled the room. “Dear God, no...”

She took a deep breath through her
tears.
Calm down. It’s just a dog. It’s not him
. But the mention of the
word she’d avoided the past four years opened up a well that she had no idea
how to shut. Valentine’s Day was his due date. Appropriate...for a love child.
But there was no love when only one sanctioned the act. Instead of a new family
and a happily-ever-after with the man who’d taken more than she’d been willing
to give, Sarah was left with Andrew walking away seven months later when he was
no longer bound by duty—that act more despicable than his first. And love
turned to hate.

Oh, he’d stuck around to bury their
stillborn son with her—only for appearances sake. From the start, he’d never
wanted the child. But Sarah could not go along with his desire to ‘get rid of
it’.

Snatching the dead puppy from Niklas’s
arms, she fled outside. Into the night. And the cold. Unprotected. She almost
slipped going down the stairs without her boots.

“Sarah!” Niklas’s voice split the
stillness.

She turned to see him closing the gap,
and pushed on harder through the deep snow until she could go no further. Her
feet and body already feeling the effects of the sub-zero temperatures not made
to be experienced without protective clothing, she fell into the snow.
Defeated. And then his strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her.

A picture of Jesus flashed through her
mind. The shepherd, coming to the rescue of his lost sheep—saving its life.