Poles Apart by Marion Ueckermann Read Free Book Online

Sarah Jones and Santa? Have
they met? Are you my secret Santa, Niklas Toivonen?
    Couldn’t be. If he was, what reason
would he have to pretend not to have met earlier?
    He grabbed a dishtowel and dried Sarah’s
hand. “I don’t suppose you packed a first aid kit?”
    She shook her head then clung to his
arm. “I don’t feel so good.”
    He helped her to the couch before
returning to the kitchen. Sarah curled up on the soft cushions and closed her
eyes to the pain.
    “Here, keep your hand submerged.” Niklas
moved her hand into the bowl of water he’d filled and placed on the floor
beside her. “I’ll fetch some salve from my house, but first, let me revive the
fire before it dies.” He disappeared into the kitchen again, emerging armed
with an oven glove. Why hadn’t she done that?
    Sarah peered over her arm that dangled
off the edge of the couch. “You live close by?”
    Niklas glanced back and smiled. “Right
next door.” Returning his attention to the logs, he shoved three inside the
fireplace, sending sparks flying upward as they fell. He pushed to his feet and
in two steps was at the door. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
    Sinking lower into the couch as she
waited, hand throbbing, Sarah steered her thoughts to her writing—it would take
the edge off the pain. Alternative title: Secret Santa. Whoever Niklas
Toivonen and Santa Claus were, Sarah would use them both to fuel her muse that
had finally come to life.
     

     
    Niklas trudged toward his home, his
thoughts as lost as his feet beneath the powder. Ninety minutes ago, he’d
thought he might never see this woman again, never know who she was. Now she’d
be living next door for three weeks as his tenant. A pleasant and unexpected
answer to his prayers.
    Thank you, Lord, for your speedy reply.
    But South Africa? A long way from Lapland.
Literally poles apart.
    Mila raised her head as he stepped
inside. Risto let out a bark causing Niklas to press his finger to his lips.
“Risto. Ole hiljaa .”
    With a whimper, Risto sank his head
between his front paws as he obeyed. Niklas stooped to pat him then stepped
past and headed down the short passage to the bathroom. Opening the cabinet
above the basin, he reached for the tube of aloe vera gel. This would sort out
Sarah’s injury.
    The dogs eyed Niklas as he closed the
front door and slipped into the night again.
    Back at Sarah’s cabin, he tapped on the
wooden door and waited. Getting no response, he tried again, with the same
silent result. He eased the door open and cast his gaze toward the couch.
    Asleep.
    Niklas tiptoed over to Sarah and knelt
beside her. Taking her hand out of the water, he dried her fingers with the
dishtowel he’d discarded on the floor earlier. His thumb brushed over the
number penned on her skin. Would she call?
    Taking care not to waken her, Niklas
massaged the gel into her burned fingers. She didn’t stir. She must be exhausted.
Just how far was the journey from South Africa?
    He swept away the long, silky shock of
hair covering her face—the color of the strands totally opposite to the local
norm. Dark, like the shaded parts of an open pine cone, flecks of lighter brown
skimming the tips.
    Niklas pushed to his feet. Leaning over
Sarah, he turned up the heat on the wall panel beside the couch then hurried up
the step ladder and grabbed a blanket from the mattress in the loft bedroom. He
covered Sarah, unable to resist the urge to plant a good night kiss on her
forehead. Why had God brought this woman from the other side of the world
across his path? What’s your purpose, Lord?
    He had to find out.
     

Chapter 5
     
    Stretching
on the two-seater couch, Sarah gave a long yawn and extended her legs over the
armrest. Her eyes struggled against the semi-darkness as she curled into the
blanket. Where was she? Oh yes—Lapland. Santa. Beautiful blue eyes. Writing
deadline...
    Writing deadline! She bolted upright.
    On the other side of the window, the
world bathed in a cold