Santa's Secret (6 page)

“We’d better go in,” she murmured, but
somehow her feet refused to move.

“Yes,” he said, staying where he was.

The snow fell, light and delicate on his
dark blond hair where he’d removed his hat, touching his eyelashes, and one
flake fell on his lips. He automatically sucked his bottom lip as the snowflake
melted, and Eva caught her breath. The tingle running through her body
magnified to a tremble at the thought of him pressing those lips to hers. She
hadn’t been kissed in so long. And the notion of this magnificent Viking taking
her in his arms and pulling her close made her breathless with desire.

His lips curved a little, and her eyes rose
to meet his, finding them filled with warmth and amusement. He stepped a little
closer, slowly, as if she were one of the reindeer ready to bolt at any second.
Then he lowered his head and pressed his lips against her cheek.

“Goodnight, Eva.”

“Goodnight,” she whispered. How
innocent—just a brush of lips against skin, and yet her heart pounded, her
heated blood warming her as it raced around her body.

He turned and took Isabel’s hand, walked up
the path and opened their door, and turned for a last wave before going in. The
snow fell, their footsteps already beginning to disappear.

But the kiss would linger on her cheek for
the rest of the night.

The following morning dawned crisp and
cold. It had snowed for a good portion of the night—Eva had watched it for a
while when she awoke at two a.m. and couldn’t get back to sleep, Rudi’s kiss
haunting her even in her dreams. But now the snow had stopped, and she gave
Oscar breakfast and got him dressed with a buzz of excitement she hadn’t felt
for a long time.

“Just two sleeps to Christmas!” she told
Oscar. But deep inside, she knew that wasn’t the only reason she was excited.

The buzz faded a little when her mobile
rang. Once again, she stared at the display, wishing she could just turn the
phone off, but she pressed the green button as she always did and answered,
“Hello?”

“It’s me,” Bridget said. “Just checking up
on you.” Her voice was vaguely accusatory. Eva bristled. They hadn’t spoken the
day before, and Bridget was obviously annoyed Eva hadn’t rung her. Was she
supposed to ring every damn day?

“We’re fine,” Eva said, keeping her voice
light. “Having lots of fun.”

“What have you been up to?”

“Oh, this and that.” Eva fought against her
natural instinct to blurt everything out. “We went to the Exhibition Centre,
and then we went to Santa’s Playground yesterday. It’s a small theme park.
Oscar had a great time.”

“I’m glad,” Bridget said. “He deserves to
have a little fun, all things considered.”

Eva kept her temper in check. Damon had
died eighteen months ago. They’d had the first Christmas, the first birthday
without him. Both had been hard, emotional times, and they’d consoled each
other through the days. In spite of her words to Rudi, Eva had missed Damon so
very much in those early months. Perhaps part of it had been more the thought
that her husband had died and she was alone than truly missing him by her side
as he had been absent for so much of the time. But still, she had been
genuinely devastated at his death, even though anger simmered beneath the
grief.

But she was ready to move on. She was only
twenty-six—she couldn’t be expected to wear black forever and never go out
again. She had a life to live, and Oscar was only three; he barely even remembered
his father. Life went on, and she was tired of Bridget making her feel guilty
for thinking that.

And then the usual cycle of shame kicked
in, and Eva closed her eyes. It must be a terrible, terrible thing to lose a
child. She had to remind herself of that fact whenever Bridget was maudlin,
knowing it wouldn’t matter how old Oscar was; if something were to happen to
him, she would still be devastated. Bridget was perfectly within her rights to
miss her son, and to want her grandson near her, especially during holidays
which were natural family times. Eva shouldn’t be too harsh on her.

“I’m sorry,” she said gently. “I should
have called. But we’ve been so busy. The park is lovely, Bridge, and the snow
is so thick you wouldn’t believe.” She talked for ten minutes, making her voice
lively, making Bridget feel missed and wanted, and was rewarded with a
heartfelt thank you and a warm wish to enjoy herself when they eventually ended
the conversation.

She clipped the phone shut and stifled a
sigh as Oscar climbed onto her lap. She must rein in her impatience. Everyone
healed at different rates, and it just wasn’t Bridget’s time yet.

“Are you ready?” she asked Oscar, who was
bouncing up and down on her legs. “Want to go out?”

“Yes!” He jumped down and attempted a
forward roll—his new trick, falling to the side as usual, then standing up with
arms raised as if he’d scored a perfect ten. “Ta da!”

“Wonderful!” She clapped him, then got up
to retrieve her coat, boots and all the usual paraphernalia. “Come on. I think
it’s time to feed some reindeer.”

“Will Rudolph be there?”

“Oh I’m sure he will.” She started laughing
as he tried to pull on his coat and put his arm in the wrong hole, then stared
in confusion at the item. “Come here, silly.” She helped him put it on, glad he
wasn’t completely independent yet, that he still needed help. One day he
wouldn’t need her and that would be hard enough whenever it happened. But just
like Bridget, she wasn’t ready yet.

They left the cabin and walked along the
path towards the village. She couldn’t help but give a little glance at Rudi’s
cabin as they left, wondering whether he was up yet and if they’d already gone
out. They hadn’t arranged to meet today, but it was such a small place, they
were bound to bump into each other. Her heart picked up its pace at the
thought, and she scolded herself silently, half-annoyed and half-amused at the
way he seemed to linger in her thoughts.

She glanced up at the sky as they walked,
still finding the lack of sunshine strange. It was great for a novelty, but she
couldn’t imagine living this far north all the time. It would be weird to not
see the sun for a good few weeks every year. But then again, she supposed, they
also had the period in the summer of the midnight sun, where it never went down
and it didn’t get dark. So there were definite benefits.

They circled the central cluster of
buildings that included the Exhibition Centre and the restaurants, and
approached the large reindeer pen. She was pleased to see it nearly empty with
no queues; it was still early, the two of them up and about before most of the
complex.

Someone stood in the pen with the handlers,
though. She stopped and stared in surprise as she saw it was Rudi, with Isabel watching
on the viewing platform outside. Rudi was talking to the handler, and the way
he held the reindeer and stroked its neck told her it wasn’t the first time he
had done so.

“
Hyvaa huomenta
,” she said as they
approached, pronouncing it the way he had corrected her before.

He looked across and his face lit with such
a genuine smile that she knew she hadn’t imagined it the day before—he
did
like her. “Good morning,” he replied. “You have come to see the reindeer?”

“Yes. Oscar wants to meet Rudolph.”

He laughed, and Isabel smiled as Oscar
tried to scramble up onto the platform beside her. “Here,” she said, holding
out a hand, and she helped him up. “Come and look at all the lovely animals.”

Eva leaned on the railing and watched as Rudi
turned the reindeer he was holding and brought it over to the fence. “Do they
bite?” she asked.

“Oh, very very rarely, and these ones are
used to being with children.” He handed Oscar a tiny bag. “Here is some food
for him, Oscar. Put it in the middle of your palm and let him take it.”

Oscar tipped the moss onto his hand and
held it out, then squealed as the reindeer nibbled it. Isabel laughed. “He has
a big tongue!”

Eva watched as Rudi stroked the deer’s
neck. “You seem very at home here.”

He scratched behind the reindeer’s ear. “I
am embarrassed to admit that my father used to keep them for meat.”

“Why embarrassed?”

He shrugged. “Lots of people are offended
by the fact that people eat reindeer.” He leaned close and whispered, “Sorry,”
into the deer’s ear before he straightened and smiled at Eva. “It is a very
traditional meat in Finland, still served in restaurants, and it is actually
quite expensive. But I can understand why the thought offends people. It is one
reason why, when my father died, I sold the farm. I did not want to be associated
with it.”

Oscar reached out a tiny hand to touch the
reindeer’s nose, and Rudi brought the animal a little closer.

“His nose is so long because it has to warm
the icy air before it gets to his lungs,” Rudi explained.

“He’s hairy,” Oscar said, stroking the
deer’s nose.

“Yes, he is. And he has special knees that
make a clicking sound when he walks, so when it snows really hard the other
reindeer know where he is.”

Eva laughed. “You’re making it up.”

He gave her a mock affronted look. “It is
the truth!”

“Yeah, yeah,” she teased.

“His nose isn’t red,” Oscar complained.

“Rudolph is not real,” Isabel said. “Real
reindeer do not have red noses.”

Eva’s heart seemed to stutter to a halt as
Oscar looked up at her and blinked. Rudi barked something at Isabel in Finnish,
and she looked down, her pale cheeks reddening.

“What Izzy means is that this is not
Rudolph,” Rudi said smoothly. “He is busy at the moment gathering up presents
for Christmas Eve.” He held out his hand. “Come here and I will lift you over,
and you can come and see some of the baby reindeer, if you like.”

Eva steadied Oscar while he climbed the
fence, and Rudi lifted him over. The two of them walked off, talking all the
way.

She looked down at Isabel, who was clearly
fighting back tears. Eva rested a hand on her back and rubbed it. “Are you
okay?”

Isabel said something in Finnish, then
corrected herself. “Daddy is angry with me. He told me last night that Oscar is
too young to learn about Santa.” She looked up then, her blue eyes—so like her
father’s—blazing. “But he always tells me not to lie as well. And I would be
lying, wouldn’t I, if I said Rudolph was real?”

Eva hesitated, touched by the girl’s
genuine bewilderment. “I understand why you’re confused. And you’re right; it’s
good not to lie. But we grownups tell children stories because when you’re a
child, it’s nice to believe in magic and fairy tales.”

“But they are not real,” she said. “They
are all lies. Silly stories about Santa and the Easter bunny and the tooth
fairy. And Daddy promised God in the church that he would love Mummy until he
died, and he lied about that, too.”

Ah, there’s the root of the problem.
Isabel’s bottom lip trembled, and Eva’s heart went out to her.

“It’s true that reindeers don’t really fly.
And Santa doesn’t really come down the chimney. But Christmas can still be
magical, all the same.”

A tear tipped over Isabel’s lashes and
trickled down her cheeks.

Eva dug a tissue out of her pocket and
handed it to the girl and then carried on as if she hadn’t noticed. “And I understand
completely why you’re upset about your parents getting divorced. It must be
very hard.”

“Do not say you understand because you do
not,” Isabel snapped, clearly tired of adults’ platitudes.

“That’s true,” Eva said easily, “but my
mother died when I was young, so I know that feeling of being lost. The thing
is, Izzy, your father would have meant it when he stood there in the church and
promised to love your mother forever. But people change. It’s not nice, and we
all wish it didn’t happen. We all want to be married forever. But as time goes
by, we realise that the person we married maybe isn’t as perfect for us as we
thought, and we come to see they actually want different things in life to
ourselves. And we compromise—that means we change a little too, so that we do a
bit more of what the other person wants. And sometimes it works. And sometimes
it doesn’t.”

She tugged Isabel’s braid. “It’s a bit like
your lovely long hair. A girl may see it and think she’d love shiny long hair
like that, and she may take a whole year to grow it, but when it’s long she
realises how much care it takes and how you have to wash it every night to keep
it so clean, and how long it takes to brush it. She realises she never
understood how difficult it was to keep it so long, and perhaps it’s not quite
right for her after all.”

Isabel sniffed and brushed off the
remaining snow on the barrier. “I do not ever want to marry.”

“Well of course you don’t. Seven year old
boys are icky—they burp and fart and smell.” Isabel giggled and Eva grinned.
“But one day you will. And you’ll understand then how difficult it is to love a
person sometimes.”

“Grandma said it is easy to fall in love,”
Isabel said.

“That’s true,” Eva replied, thinking that
Rudi’s mother had probably tried very hard to persuade her granddaughter that
not all marriages ended in failure. “But you know, being in love and loving
someone are two very different things. One can happen the moment you first lay
eyes on someone. But the second takes a long time to grow.”

Eva glanced up as Rudi came out of the shed
where the baby reindeer were kept and walked towards her, Oscar bouncing next
to him. When she was younger, she’d thought that if she met a gorgeous guy and
fell in love, staying in love would be easy. But obviously it wasn’t, otherwise
why would Rudi’s ex-wife have ever let him go?