Christmas, Actually: The Christmas Gift / The Christmas Wish / The Christmas Date. Anna Adams

when I came in. I’m Sophie Palmer.” She sounded different. More certain.

      “My parents tell me I owe you my life.”

      “We don’t need to go that far. Dr. Banning did the real work.”

      “But you were there first, because of me, and you saved me anyway.”

      Tessie’s tearful voice made Jack pause in the doorway. He couldn’t un-hear Sophie’s estimate of him. She had every reason to hate him, but she’d been professional.

      Sophie sat beside Tessie’s bed. She was just pregnant enough that the chair forced her to sit at an uncomfortable angle. Funny, they expected patients’ family members to sleep in those chairs. She pushed one hand behind her back to brace herself, but her attention was on the girl, who was finally regaining her natural, healthy color.

      Tessie reached out and Sophie put the girl’s palm in her own. “You don’t have to thank me. Just say you won’t ever text and drive again. Promise you’ll leave your phone in your purse.”

      Tessie’s bandage was stark white against her skin, a reminder that she and Sophie had escaped serious consequences. Despite himself, Jack felt the tug of fear.

      “I promise I will never touch my phone while I’m driving. I’ve been lying here wishing I could take back that one second when I picked it up, and thought I could type a quick text.”

      For a moment, Jack returned to the heat of his own personal hell—possessing only one pair of hands, which couldn’t do half enough work in time to save his friends and soldier comrades.

      Sophie let go, and he saw empathy in her eyes. He’d always admired the caring she brought to her work, to her life. “I’m glad you realize how bad it could have been, Tessie.”

      His patient nodded, her gaze more somber than any seventeen-year-old’s should be. “I might have killed you and your baby. The police came by. They said they could charge me, because I admitted I was texting. My mom and dad are getting a lawyer.”

      “That’s not Sophie’s problem,” Jack said, going into protective mode without thinking.

      Sophie looked up, so startled she didn’t even seem angry with him. She reached into her purse, pulled out a silver case—so small and delicate one of Santa’s elves might have crafted it—and plucked out a business card.

      “This has my cell number. If you need me to speak for you, I’ll tell them what I believe—that you’re sincere.”

      Tessie’s face blanched. “Right now I don’t ever want to get behind the wheel of a car again.” She glanced from Sophie’s stomach up to her face. “My mom said you risked your baby’s life.”

      Jack felt pain like thunder in his head. His mouth went completely dry. His spine seemed to lock in place, while his legs protested at being used.

      He shot a glance at Sophie, but thankfully, she didn’t notice the perspiration dripping from his temples.

      Without acknowledging him or his impulsive comment, she tucked in Tessie’s bedding with a nurse’s economy of movement. “I was in no pain and you needed help. Honestly, if my baby had been at risk, I would have chosen her over you without a second thought.”

      A massive, unseen fist squeezed Jack’s rib cage. Of course she’d choose her child. He was counting on it.

      Tessie sank against her pillow. “Thank you. That makes me feel less guilty, and I promise I won’t ever forget about the texting thing.”

      Sophie took the girl’s water bottle. “I’ll get this refilled,” she said, staring him down.

      Jack pushed away from the doorjamb, moving to the computer mounted near the bed. “I need to check your wound, Tessie, when your nurse arrives.”

      * * *

      SOPHIE MADE IT to the nurses’ station and set the bottle on the counter. “Can we get this refilled?” she asked. In her hospital, there was filtered water available. They must have something similar here, because a woman in green scrubs took the container away.

      Sophie leaned on the counter, breathing. She didn’t allow herself to embrace the hope hovering at the edges of her awareness.

      Jack’s defense of her had come out of left field, but it didn’t mean he’d changed his mind about being a father to their child. He’d broken a sweat as Tessie talked about the baby.

      Was he concerned about their baby? Or any baby? He’d lost an eleven-month-old girl in a surgery in October. That was when the dreams had started.

      “Here you go,” the nurse said, handing over Tessie’s water.

      Sophie collected herself. No need to get confused about what she wanted, either. Jack might have tried for a second to protect her, but even if he’d meant it, even if he still cared for her, he could abandon her in the next breath.

      It didn’t matter, but before she put Christmas Town in her rearview mirror, they both had to be certain what kind of man he’d become. Would Jack be a name on a birth certificate? Or would he come to his senses and understand the magnitude of the unexpected gift he was throwing away?

      When she returned to the room, he was finishing Tessie’s dressing. Jack was one of the few surgeons Sophie knew who didn’t turn that duty over to the nurses. He smoothed the tape.

      “That should do you, Tessie.”

      The nurse gathered up the supplies. “Anything else, Doctor?”

      Jack shook his head. “We’re good,” he said. The nurse left the room, closing the door behind him.

      “Dr. Banning, my mom and dad are stringing lights on the green tonight. Do you think I could help them?”

      He looked at Sophie as if she’d asked the question. “We all help decorate. A few years ago, the town council had to choose between fewer decorations, including canceling the pageant on Christmas Eve, or volunteering in shifts so we could cut the labor budget.” He made his notes on the screen beside Tessie’s bed. “I think you need to stay here another night. We had to transfuse you. We’ll do blood work again this evening and in the morning. If your levels are rising, you can go tomorrow.”

      “I hate this place.” Tessie shifted in the bed, but grimaced as her arm pulled, reminding her of the life lesson her recklessness had taught her. “Not that I’m not grateful you fixed me up.”

      “But the food is horrible, and you can’t have a nice hamburger or a chicken wrap or whatever teenage girls eat these days.” He touched a button that darkened the monitor. “You’re a week early for Santa’s daily visits, although I hear the nutritionists are lobbying for him to distribute fruit this year.”

      “Fruit?” Tessie’s show of disgust betrayed her. She wasn’t a forbearing saint or an adult. The child who didn’t care for healthy holiday goodies lingered inside her.

      Sophie laughed, relieved to find a normal adolescent had survived her trauma.

      “What do you like, Sophie?” Tessie smoothed her hospital sheet. “At our house, we dip strawberries in dark chocolate. And then we dip everything else we can find in the kitchen. Even bacon.”

      A hint of morning sickness rattled Sophie. “Chocolate-covered cherries,” she said. “My mom gives me a beautiful box every year because her parents gave her one. The good ones with cordials and liqueurs, which I will not be enjoying this year.”

      “That’s a waste of good chocolate. I’d take the fresh fruit over chocolate liqueurs.”

      “Or bacon,” Jack said.

      Tessie laughed. Sophie concentrated on not looking startled that he’d try to be funny with her in the room. But putting on a show might be his second best skill.

      “You two are finicky,” he said. “I prefer those chocolate oranges my mom used to