A Doctor’s Snowed In Christmas Wish (Sweet Christmas Kisses)

1. An Odd Welcome

1

An Odd Welcome

C HAPTER ONE

Daniel

As I stepped off the ferry onto Lonesome Bay Island, the cool ocean breeze ruffled my hair, carrying away the stale scent of New York City. The salty sea air filled my lungs, bringing me a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in ages.

The last few months had been a nightmare, and no way was I going to spend the holidays being hounded by the press.

No one would find me on this tiny island off the northern coast, and with any luck, the new year would have them chasing fresh stories.

At least, that’s what I hoped.

Walking along the main dock road towards the Lonesome Bay Inn, visible on a slight rise, I heard raised voices just out of sight up ahead. Curiosity piqued, I quickened my pace, wondering what drama awaited me in this tiny town.

“Come on, Rosalind, come back with me!” A man’s voice rang out, heavy with desperation.

“Rich, we’ve been over this a hundred times. I don’t know any other way to say it. It’s over, we’re over, and I’m never going back! Not to you, and not to New York City.” A woman’s voice replied firmly, her tone unwavering.

I rounded the corner and spotted them. A young twenties-something couple standing on the sidewalk, faces flushed with emotion. The tension crackled between them, even from this distance.

“Looks like someone’s having a jolly time,” I muttered under my breath, watching the scene unfold with a wry smile. The dusky evening light made details difficult to discern from a distance, but fortunately for me, they’d stopped under a streetlight.

“Please, just give me another chance,” the man pleaded, his hands outstretched towards her.

She shook her head, her attitude resolute. “I can’t do this again, Rich. I won’t! It’s tearing both of us apart!”

I sighed, recognizing the familiar dance of love and heartbreak playing out before me. Relationships were never easy, but some were messier than others. Remembering a few messy breakups from my past, I felt empathy for these two young souls.

“Maybe I should offer them a copy of ‘Relationships for Dummies,’” I mused silently, amusing myself with my own jaded sarcasm.

I stood at a distance, watching, not wanting to intrude in their conversation by walking past them. Laughter, muted music, and chatter filled the air from a nearby pub, a stark contrast to the argument up ahead.

The woman crossed her arms over her chest, standing firm in her resolve, while the man clenched his fists at his sides.

“Come on, Roz! Don’t do this,” his voice rose, anger replacing the earlier desperation.

She stood her ground, tension radiating from her body. “Go, Rich! This is my home now, and you have no place in it.” Her effort to remain calm yet firm impressed me. And her steady voice carried a softness that made my pulse quicken. Something about the way the overhead light caught in her auburn hair, turning the red highlights to flecks of fire, made me want to step closer.

The young man’s frustration mounted, his tone turning harsh. “No! You’re coming with me! It’s for your own good.” And grabbing the woman’s hand, he started pulling her behind him like a recalcitrant child.

A rush of concern ignited within me. He’d just crossed a line, and my protective instincts stirred.

Love might be a battlefield, I thought, but no one deserved to be conscripted into it.

“Easy there, tiger,” I said in a calm voice, eyeing him warily as I stepped in front of the stranger rushing towards me, holding my hand up between us. He had anger on his side, but I had several inches on him, and years of weight training on my side.

The tension crackled in the air like a live wire, so I added, “let’s all take a breather here.” I hoped my calm voice might help defuse the escalating situation, but I was prepared to fight if necessary.

“Who the heck are you?” He spat out, his eyes narrowing at my sudden appearance. He obviously did not have any respect for his elders. It might be only ten to fifteen years between us, but against his mid-twenties, that was a big difference. Half his lifetime. That used to count for something.

“Listen. Rich, is it? My name is Daniel, and I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. I don’t appreciate aggression towards women, any women, so you need to let her go.” I replied calmly, my gaze unwavering and my stance solid.

Before he could unleash his fury on me, though, a group of fishermen ran up to us from the direction of the docks. I realized they knew the woman when they addressed her. “Everything alright here, Roz?” One of them asked, sounding out of breath from the run, his tone protective.

“Thanks, guys. No, it’s not OK. I’d like ‘Rich’ here”, and she turned a withering glare on the man still holding her arm, “to not miss his ferry. Could you guys escort him off the island for me? Thank you.“ She replied with a relieved smile as they stepped forward, her posture relaxing.

The fishermen surrounded Rich, all five expressions stern. “You’ve caused enough trouble here, buddy. Time to catch that ferry back to the mainland,” one of them stated firmly. “And I’d release the lassie’s hand if I was you. Right now!”

Dropping the woman’s hand and plastering on his, it’s-all-been-a-simple-misunderstanding smile, Rich’s protests fell on deaf ears as the fishermen pushed him towards the boat.

But he quickly gave up his pretense and yelled over his shoulder, his threats echoing over the street. “I’ll be back for you, Roz! You can’t run from me forever!”

“Oh, no you won’t, mister! Not unless you’re ready to take a long walk on a short pier. You keep that in mind if you ever think of coming back to our island again!” I heard one fisherman say as the group manhandled Rich back down the street and onto the dock.

As I stood there, watching him board the ferry with the fishermen at his back, a soft voice interrupted my thoughts. I turned back to the woman, who was also watching the ferry.

“Thank you,” she said, her eyes filled with gratitude as she looked at me. It was hard to tell in the fading evening light, but she had sea-green eyes and a lovely smile. About a foot shorter than me, she appeared to be in her early twenties.

I nodded at her, the tension of the earlier confrontation dissipating. “No problem. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Daniel, right?” She asked, a shaky but warm smile spreading across her face. “That wasn’t the best welcome you just had to our little island, but I’d like to say welcome, anyway. I’m Rosalind, but most people call me Roz.”

“Pleased to meet you, Rosalind.” I replied. “Does this kind of thing happen here often? I thought my stay on this small fishing island would be an uneventful getaway, but maybe not?”

She chuckled, a melodious sound that matched the gentle sound of the waves against the shore. “Not usually. It’s only fair you know some of my story. Rich and I met at college. I left school, and him, when our relationship went … let’s say south. Unfortunately for you and I, he didn’t take the breakup well. He’s a paranoid, high maintenance kind of man, as I’m sure you figured out.”

“With quite an attitude, and very little patience,” I remarked, glancing towards where the ferry had vanished.

“So true. But thanks to you and some friends, he won’t be causing trouble here anymore. At least, I hope this time he got the message.” Rosalind said, her tone tinged with relief and a brief hesitation. “I’m sorry you stumbled into our drama on your first day. Don’t let it prejudice you against our beautiful island.” She added, her green eyes sparkling with amusement.

Just then, I heard footsteps, and we both turned in their direction.

“Roz, are you alright?” A concerned voice interrupted our conversation, and I saw an old man with frizzy white hair approaching. His hand rested on the shoulder of a teenage boy beside him as they shuffled towards us. The doctor in me concluded he was blind, or maybe vision impaired, since his gait was smooth.

But the worry etched into his wrinkled face added depth to his character, displaying his concern and protective nature towards the woman he’d rushed to help.

“Grandpa, I’m fine. This gentleman, Daniel, and the dock crew helped me out.” Rosalind reassured him, her voice holding a touch of weariness. “Hi Peter.” She added to the teenage boy.

“Thank you, young man, I’m Joseph. Joseph Copenhagen.” His tone reflected both gratitude and a bit of suspicion as he introduced himself to me. He reached out a hand in my direction, and I caught it and shook hands with him. “Daniel? Have we met before? I don’t recognize that name.”

“I’m glad I could help, sir. And no, we haven’t met. This is my first time on Lonesome Bay Island. I’m on vacation through the holidays and just arrived on the ferry a few minutes ago.” I replied with respect.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Daniel. I’m sure we’ll see you again during your stay. Thanks again for helping my granddaughter, but if you don’t mind, she’s had a long day and I’d like to take her home now. Come on, Roz, let’s go,” Joseph said, his love shining through as he and his guide led Rosalind back the way they’d come.

“Thanks, Daniel. I’ll see you around,” Rosalind called over her shoulder. Her voice filled with gratitude, and maybe a bit of curiosity when she glanced back with a smile.

“Looking forward to it,” I replied with a return smile, watching them shuffle off into the island night.

The encounter with Rosalind and her ex-boyfriend had left a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. Did I do the right thing, stepping in like that? They were strangers to me, but something about Rosalind’s tension-filled voice had made it feel personal.

But, now that we’d averted the crisis, it was time for me to check into my hotel.

Continuing on the dock road, I finally reached the Lonesome Bay Inn. Pushing open the creaky door, I stepped into a warm, cozy atmosphere that wrapped around me like a soft woolen blanket. “Evening, sir. Checking in?” a cheerful voice called out from behind the front desk.

“Yes, Daniel Westbrook,” I replied, showing her my ID, my tone more relaxed than earlier. Maybe the sea air was working its magic on me.

“Ah, Dr. Westbrook, welcome to Lonesome Bay Inn. Room seven is ready for you. Just up the stairs, fourth door on the right,” the woman said with a smile, handing me a key with a small wooden seashell attached to it. “I’m Linda Baker. Our pub is open until 2 a.m., with a cook on duty from 7 a.m. until 9 p.m. If you need anything, just call the number listed on your room phone.”

“Thanks,” I nodded, taking the key. As I made my way up the stairs, I couldn’t help but wonder if Rosalind was okay. And would there be another confrontation with Rich during my vacation?

Chiding myself for getting involved in other people’s drama when I was only trying to escape drama of my own, I firmly reminded myself to stay out of it.

Unlocking the door to number seven, I stood surveying the accommodations. With walls painted a calming blue, a large window with an ocean view, and a bed that looked like a cloud waiting to embrace me, I sighed.

I cracked open the window and pulled the curtains aside, listening to the soft hush of the ocean waves, and letting in the cool fresh air. Then I dropped my bag on the floor and flopped down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“That was not the way I’d expected my vacation to start.” I muttered to myself, the events replaying in my mind like a movie on repeat. But amid the chaos, there was a glimmer of something else. A connection, maybe? Or was it just a fleeting moment?

The image of Rosalind’s eyes, filled with relief as the ferry disappeared with Rich aboard, would not leave my thoughts. But she seemed to have no lack of protectors.

“Are you always this nosy?” I chided myself, knowing my notorious penchant for getting involved in other people’s business despite my best intentions. Maybe that was just the doctor in me wanting to see the complete picture.

What was her story beyond Rich, I wondered, and why had her situation struck a chord within me? It might’ve reminded me of my recent breakup, although the situations were entirely different. Just sympathy for another lost love, I guess.

“Or maybe I’m just a glutton for drama,” I joked, rubbing a hand over my tired eyes. “I’ve certainly had enough of my own to last a lifetime.”