THE LYRICS OF the favourite carol were still in Tilly’s head when they arrived home to a house that was completely dark apart from the twinkling coloured lights they could see through the big bay window of the living room.
‘It’s officially Christmas Day, Tilly.’ Harry came around the car and opened the passenger door. ‘Merry Christmas.’
Tilly had her phone in her hand. ‘I’ve got a message from Lizzie. They’ve put Dad on complete bed rest in the ward and have his leg elevated to try and get the new swelling down. She’ll give us an update when there’s more news but says not to expect him home for Christmas dinner.’
‘Oh, no... This wasn’t part of the plan.’
Tilly tipped her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. ‘No.’
None of it had been part of the plan, had it? She hadn’t planned on her father hurting himself or Jason falling into a hay baler. She hadn’t planned on Harry finding out her secret or discovering that maybe she’d really like to be a rural GP after all. Or having to go head-first down an abandoned mineshaft.
And she most definitely hadn’t planned on falling in love with Harry Doyle.
It was officially Christmas Day. Which meant that tomorrow Harry would be flying back to the north island. Getting a step closer to tying up loose ends and heading back to his home in Ireland.
‘Hey...’ Harry’s voice was soft and much closer to her ear than she might have expected. ‘You still awake, Bat Woman?’
A smile curled the corners of Tilly’s mouth. Harry hadn’t wanted her to do that upside-down bat thing down the mineshaft, had he? But how proud of her had he looked when she came back up from the shaft having successfully attached the harness to Sammy? And, as for that smile when they’d been privileged enough to be part of that precious conversation between Maggie and her grandchildren...well...
Tilly didn’t have time to finish that dreamy thought because she felt one of Harry’s arms slide behind her back and the other beneath her knees.
‘I’m not surprised you’re exhausted,’ he said. ‘Come on... I’m taking you to bed.’
Oh...there was a thought...
Tilly was exhausted. Emotionally as well as physically, so it wasn’t that hard to quell any urge to restore her independence and walk inside by herself. Or to try and find any remnants of those protective barriers she’d relied on for so long and push Harry away. She didn’t need to, anyway, because that unfinished thought had been about just how lucky you could be to have someone like Harry care about you. How much you could trust someone like him.
So Tilly simply wrapped her arms around Harry’s neck and let him carry her into her bedroom. And when it felt as if he was about to put her down, she instinctively tightened that hold a little and lifted her face so that it became an invitation to be kissed. One that Harry seemed only too happy to accept.
And that kiss was so gentle. So tender that Tilly would have been only too happy to drown in it. She could feel herself sinking, in fact, but it turned out that Harry was just putting her down on her bed, without breaking the kiss. She could also feel the feather topping of her mattress creating the soft feeling of the interior of a nest and her pillow denting as it cradled her head. She could also feel the tension of Harry’s muscles changing. He was really going to put her down this time, wasn’t he?
‘Don’t go,’ she whispered. ‘Please...?’
‘I wanted to find something. I have a Christmas gift for you, Tilly.’
The windows of Tilly’s bedroom only looked out at her father’s extensive vegetable garden but there was enough moonlight coming through them to be able to see Harry’s face clearly. She couldn’t see the blue of his eyes, but she could feel the intensity of his gaze and that it was just as tender as that kiss had been. She held on to it as she gathered possibly the most courage she’d ever needed in her life.
‘You don’t need to go anywhere to give me what my wish is for this Christmas.’
He knew.
He knew that Tilly felt safe enough to ask him for something she could never ask of anyone else. A chance to find out if she could get past the damage that had been done to both her mind and body. It could only ever be Harry who could give her that gift because he was the one who’d given her the confidence to see the real truth and she knew, deep in her soul, that he had the kindness and patience to make it safe. Even if this time together, away from the only reality they’d previously known, would be over in no more than a matter of hours, he had the power to change her whole life.
To help her become a person she could be proud of being...
The touch of Harry’s fingers as they traced the outline of her face was as gentle as everything else about this man.
‘You’re so tired, sweetheart... Are you sure?’
Was she sure? Even though it was highly likely that this would increase the heartbreak that was rushing towards her like an emotional freight train?
Yes, she was sure. Maybe partly because of that impending heartbreak, even. Because it meant she could feel this kind of desire. This level of love. This fierce need to be this close to Harry that was a heat that melted every other thought as his lips claimed hers again.
Perhaps the exhaustion actually helped to make this the perfect time, allowing Tilly’s body to go with the gentle flow of Harry’s lovemaking and avoid any subconscious urge to back away into any familiar, safe space. It was Tilly who begged for more in the end, welcoming the most intimate touch of all with her arms wrapped so tightly around this man she loved that she couldn’t quite tell where her body ended and his began. And that only made it even more perfect.
It was the heat that finally woke Harry.
In that first heartbeat of consciousness he was aware of several things. The softness of Tilly’s body curled against his, with her breath a puff of extra warmth on his skin. The tingle of his own body that wanted to remind him of everything that had happened right up until the birds were announcing the imminent arrival of dawn—not that he was likely to forget a single moment of the most astonishingly memorable sex he’d ever experienced.
He was also aware that it was Christmas Day. That there was blazing sunshine outside already and it would probably be even hotter than yesterday. And he was realising that the sunshine and heat didn’t feel so wrong now. It didn’t make it feel any less like Christmas.
Real Christmas had very little to do with places or weather. It was about people and the connections between them, wasn’t it? The kind of joy a baby’s birth had brought centuries ago. The peace that someone could bestow on her beloved grandchildren as a final gift. The community spirit that could bring so many people together, not only to find a lost little boy, but to celebrate by staying together and using a Christmas song to share that connection. And, okay, it might be about showing how much you cared by giving things to others, but some things couldn’t be wrapped—couldn’t be seen, even—but they could potentially be the most precious gifts ever bestowed.
Like the gift that he and Tilly had shared during the earliest hours of this Christmas Day. The gift of trust. Of passion. Of a love that would be there for ever, even if they ended up a world apart.
Harry bent his head and pressed a kiss onto Tilly’s hair. Just a soft touch but it was enough to make her eyelashes flutter and then lift to reveal her eyes. Harry was so glad he’d woken first because that meant he could see the moment that Tilly became aware of a whole lot of things, just like he had, and he could see that she was as happy as he was. That this had to be the best Christmas morning ever.
‘Hey...’ Harry whispered. ‘Merry Christmas, Bat Woman.’
‘Merry Christmas, Leprechaun Man.’
‘Shall I get up and make us some coffee?’
‘Not just yet.’ Tilly brushed her lips against his skin, closing her eyes. ‘I want to make sure I remember the dream I had about you.’
Harry could feel the rumble of his soft laughter as he pulled Tilly closer. ‘It was no dream. I was there too, remember?’
Tilly’s eyes opened. ‘I’ve got a gift for you.’
‘I think you already gave it to me.’
The flush of colour in her cheeks was a delight. ‘No...this is something you can take back to Ireland with you. Oh...’ Her eyes widened. ‘What time is it? I should probably have put the turkey in the oven hours ago. And I have to look up a recipe for bread sauce and pick a whole bucket of peas from the garden.’
But Harry shook his head. ‘The food is like snow,’ he said. ‘It’s not the thing that makes it really Christmas.’
There was a question in Tilly’s eyes.
‘This is,’ he added. ‘Family. Friends. Feeling like you’re home...’ Then he smiled. ‘There is one thing that I’d really like for Christmas dinner, mind. And I don’t think it’ll take too long.’
‘What’s that?’
‘That potato thing. The one my mammy used to make for me.’
‘Potato gratin.’ Tilly was smiling back at him. ‘I think I can manage that.’
Harry leaned down to kiss her. ‘Let’s do it together.’
It was easy enough to find a recipe online and, as luck would have it, they had all the ingredients they needed and plenty of time before they were planning to go and visit Jim in the hospital and take him his Christmas gifts.
They sliced potatoes very thinly and layered them with the butter and cream and garlic they’d melted, sprinkling in salt and pepper, thyme and Gruyère cheese. They baked it until it was golden and bubbly on top and crispy and brown around the edges and, when it had cooled just enough, they ate it, sitting outside in the shady courtyard—in the space where Harry had kissed Tilly for the very first time.
‘This is the best Christmas dinner I’ve ever had,’ Harry announced.
Tilly thought so too, but that wasn’t only because of the food. Like Harry had said, this was about the company she had and the connection she was never going to lose with the man who had given her the gift of a new life.
‘Are you going to open your present now?’
‘Are you going to open yours?’
The two small boxes were sitting on the table, looking remarkably similar apart from their colour.
‘Wouldn’t it be funny if we’ve given each other exactly the same thing?’ Tilly reached for the silver box.
‘It would.’ Harry picked up the green box.
They opened them together and Tilly stared at the intricate silver design of the necklace nestled on rumpled silk. Harry was blinking at a greenstone pendant with a rustic string cord.
‘It’s a koru,’ Tilly told him. ‘It’s a Maori design based on the unfurling bit of a new fern frond. It represents creation. A new life but also coming back to a beginning—a point of origin. It made me think of you going home to Ireland and finding the new life where you belong, at home.’
She could see the movement of Harry’s throat as he swallowed. ‘And yours is a Celtic symbol. A Dara Knot, which symbolises strength and courage. The kind you’ve got. The kind that you can use to find the new life that you deserve.’
Tilly could feel the tears gathering in her eyes as she picked up the beautiful piece of jewellery. ‘We have given each other the same thing.’
‘Except I’m not sure I want to find my new life in Ireland.’ Harry was holding the smooth greenstone carving in his hand. ‘I’m not sure it’s going to feel enough like home any longer.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because you won’t be there.’
‘I could be,’ Tilly whispered. ‘If you wanted me to be?’
But Harry shook his head. ‘You belong here,’ he said. ‘I’ve only been here for two days but I can see that this is your home. You have family here. A whole community that you belong to.’
‘But maybe this won’t feel completely like home for me now, either.’
Oh...the blue of Harry’s eyes had never been so intense. ‘Is that because I wouldn’t be here?’
‘I think it might be.’
‘I like it here,’ Harry said slowly. ‘I’d like to visit Ireland again, of course, but I think I could live here. Possibly for ever.’
Tilly drew in a shaky breath. In real terms, she and Harry had only just met. There was no way they could know what the future held or whether how they felt about each other could grow into something permanent and precious. But even for ever had to start somewhere, didn’t it?
With a moment, just like this...?
Her smile wobbled. ‘For ever is quite a long time, you know.’
Harry’s smile didn’t wobble at all. ‘I know...’