One Night Before Christmas. Susan Carlisle

placed their hands on his shoulders, stopping him.

      A few minutes later the sound of the ambulances arriving caught his attention.

      * * *

      Melanie wasn’t clear on all that had occurred before she woke up in the brightly lit emergency room.

      “What’s going on?” She looked at David, one of the trainers, who was sitting in a chair across the room.

      “You were in an accident on the practice field.”

      Before David could elaborate, a white-haired doctor entered. “So, how are you feeling?” He stepped close to the bed and pulled out a penlight.

      Slowly the events came back to her. She started to sit up. “How is Dr. Reynolds?”

      The doctor pushed her shoulder, making her lie back. “First let me do my examination, then you can go check on him.”

      She settled back.

      “I’ll be in the waiting room,” David said and went out the door.

      “Now tell me what happened,” the doctor said as he lifted one of her eyelids.

      Melanie relayed the events she recalled and finished with “and Dr. Reynolds took the impact of the hit.”

      The doctor nodded thoughtfully. “That he did.”

      “How bad is he?”

      “If you’ll give me a few minutes to finish my exam you can go see for yourself.”

      Melanie’s chest tightened. She hoped he wasn’t badly hurt. Thankfully, the doctor pronounced her well enough to go. The time that she waited for the nurse with the discharge papers only made her anxiety grow. Because of her, Dalton was hurt.

      “What exam room is Dr. Reynolds in?” Melanie asked as she pulled on her shoes.

      “Next door.” The nurse indicated to the right.

      “Thanks.” Melanie rose slowly, still feeling dazed. She sat on the edge of the bed for a few seconds. Her body would be sore tomorrow.

      Minutes later, she knocked on the glass sliding door to the exam room. At a weak, “Come in,” she entered. Dalton still wore his slacks but no shirt. He had a nicely muscled chest. She groaned when she saw the ice pack resting on his left rib cage. His eyes were glazed as if he were in pain and his lips were drawn into a tight line. Guilt filled her.

      Another one of the trainers stood in the corner of the room, typing on his cell phone. When she entered he slipped out, giving her the impression he was relieved to do so.

      “Hey,” she said softly.

      Dalton’s response came out more as a grumble than a word.

      Melanie stepped farther into the room. She had to let him know how much she appreciated what he’d done. “Thank you.”

      He nodded but his jaw remained tight.

      “How are you?”

      “I’ve been better.” The words were uttered between clenched teeth.

      A stab of remorse plunged through her. He was here because of her. She approached the bed and moved to put her hand on his shoulder, then stopped herself. That would be far too personal. “Don’t talk if it hurts too much.”

      A nurse entered.

      Melanie didn’t give her time to pick up the chart before she asked, “How is he?” She had to find out something about his injuries without him having to do the speaking.

      The nurse looked at him. “Do I have permission to discuss your case?”

      He nodded.

      “The doctor has some bruised ribs. He’ll be sore for a week or so but nothing more serious.”

      At least that was positive news. Melanie was already guilt ridden enough. “Then he will be released?”

      “He’ll be released as soon as he has someone who can take him home and stay with him. He isn’t going to feel like doing much for a few days.”

      “I’ll see that he gets the care he needs,” Melanie assured her.

      Dalton’s eyebrows went up. “Plane...”

      The nurse placed the blood pressure cuff around his arm. “You don’t need to be flying. I don’t think you could stand the pain.”

      There was a knock at the door and Melanie looked away from Dalton to find John Horvitz, her father’s right-hand man, standing there.

      “How’re you both doing?” Obviously he would be concerned about the visiting doctor being hurt on team time.

      Melanie gave John a brief report. “He’s in so much pain, it’s difficult to speak.” Dalton gave her a grateful look.

      John focused his attention on her. “Your father wanted me to check on you both. He had a meeting. I’ll be giving him a full report.”

      And he would. That was always the way it had been. Her father sent someone else. When he’d coached, team issues took precedence. As the general manager, it wasn’t any better. His concern had always come through a subordinate. What would it be like to have him show he really cared?

      “He’ll call when the meeting is over,” John finished.

      “Who hit us?” she asked.

      John grimaced. “I was told it was Juice.”

      “He must have been flying!”

      “Not ‘Freight Train’?” Dalton mumbled.

      Melanie laughed. The poor guy. Maybe he did have a sense of humor. She wrapped her arms around her waist when the laughter led to throbbing.

      “Are you sure you’re okay?” John asked her.

      “Sore, but nothing that I can’t stand. Dr. Reynolds is the one we should be worried about. I think we would both like to get out of here.”

      As if on cue, the ER doctor came in. “If you’ll give me a few minutes, I’ll see you have your discharge papers. There will be no driving or flying for two days.”

      Dalton partially sat up, “Two days!” As if the effort was too much for him, he fell back, closing his eyes.

      She owed him for making sure she hadn’t really got hurt but this was a busy time of the year and adding the Currents’ play-off game didn’t make it better. Now she was being saddled with taking care of him for two more days.

      “The team will see that you are as comfortable as possible,” John assured him.

      Dalton’s eyes opened but he said nothing.

      John continued, “There’s a driver and a car waiting to take you both home. I have notified the Lodge to do everything they can to make your stay comfortable.”

      “I’ll see that he’s well taken care of. Thanks, John,” Melanie said.

      Half an hour later, Melanie sucked in her breath when she looked out the hospital sliding glass door. Snow fell so thickly that she could just make out the cars in the parking lot. “The snow has really picked up.”

      Their driver waited under the pickup area with the engine running. Dr. Reynolds, always the gentleman, allowed her to get in the backseat first. Wincing as he bent to climb in, he joined her. He reached out to pull the door closed and groaned.

      “Let me help.” She leaned across him. Her chest brushed his as she stretched. His body heat mixed with the air blasting out of the car vents, making her too warm. He smelled like a fir after a misty rain. She stopped herself from inhaling. Using her fingertips, she managed to pull the door closed. His breath brushed her cheek as she sat up again, causing her midsection to flutter.

      The windshield wipers swished back and forth