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There was shell in the scrambled egg, but Angel ate it anyway, too hungry and too touched by the boy’s offer to feed her to make a fuss. While she ate, Hal and Jamie washed up the breakfast things, and Brenna sat opposite her, coloring in a picture.
“That’s Princess Anna from Frozen, isn’t it?” Angel asked her as she cut into her toast.
Brenna stared at her with adoration. “Kristoff’s sleigh was broken,” she said, pointing at it with her pencil. “And that’s Olaf the Snowman.”
Hal gave them both an amused look over his shoulder. “You’ll be her friend forever.”
Angel smiled and sipped her coffee.
The warmth in his eyes when they’d been talking in the living room lingered in her mind. He couldn’t possibly be interested in her—she was wearing no makeup and her hair must look like she’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. And she was older than him. To any local, she must seem a complete idiot for getting caught by the tide. And yet he’d been generous and considerate, and he didn’t seem angry or irritated.
Her gaze lingered on him. Lesa would think it hilarious that she had actually met Ragnar Lothbrok on the first day.
Lesa. Oh God. She was going to be worried sick.
“I wonder whether I could borrow your phone?” she asked. “I should ring my sister, because she’ll be worried that I didn’t call to say I’d arrived last night.”
“Of course.” He picked up a handset from the cradle on the window ledge and passed it to her.
Dialing Lesa’s number, she rose and walked back into the living room. Lesa answered after two rings.
“It’s me,” Angel said.
“Jesus. I’ve been so worried. Are you okay?”
Angel hesitated. Up until that point, she’d intended to tell Lesa everything, but the words froze on her lips.
She didn’t want to admit that she’d already screwed up. Lesa wouldn’t be smug—she’d be out of her mind with worry—but she would say that Jackie had been right to tell her not to go away on her own, and she’d insist that Angel return home.
She’s not weak... She’s a shield maiden. Hal’s words rang in her head, and she smiled.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Sorry I didn’t ring last night. There was lots of traffic, and it was really late by the time I got to the cottage. I didn’t want to wake you.”
Lesa blew out a breath. “You should have. I’ve hardly slept.”
“I’m so sorry.” Angel bit her lip. She’d put her sister through a lot, and it wasn’t fair to make her worry so much.
“I wish you’d come home,” Lesa said.
It would be easier for everyone else if she did. But did she really want to? She hadn’t even looked around the small town yet. It had the ruins of a medieval priory, a museum, a castle, and St. Aidan’s Winery where they made and sold mead, amongst other things. And it looked as if it was going to snow. She was sure it would be magical here at Christmas.
Plus, she wasn’t sure she had a car anymore.
Oddly, she thought she could hear music, and it wasn’t coming from inside the house. “Hold on,” she said to Lesa. She opened the window a crack, leaned forward on the ledge, and peered out, shivering as the cool wintry air cut through her.
Further along, on the corner of the street, was a group of carol singers, proper ones probably from the church, not just out-of-tune kids. They were singing God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, the deep bass voices of the men and the higher angelic voices of the women sending a shiver down her spine.
There was magic here at Christmas. She could feel it in every cell in her body.
She took a deep breath in, and blew it out slowly as she closed the window and turned her attention back to the phone. “I am sorry I worried you, but I need this. I love you, you know that, but I need to be alone, just this once. Please don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine, and I promise I’ll ring if I need anything.”
“Okay.” Lesa didn’t argue with her. “Well, keep in touch, eh? And you know where I am if you need me.”
“Of course. Speak to you later.” Angel hung up.
She stayed there for a moment, looking out of the window. She felt a surprising sense of freedom at the thought of being here and coping alone, even if she had been rescued by a Viking.
“Everything okay?”
She turned to see him standing in the doorway, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He’d placed her dry clothes on the arm of the sofa.
When she’d woken that morning to see him standing before her with his children, for a moment she hadn’t recognized him. He looked so different without his beard. Younger, for a start, and with rugged good looks that elevated him from being a Viking warrior to a Viking jarl. His thick dark hair grew up from his scalp making him look as if he’d just run his hands through it all the time, and he had an impressive build, at least six-foot-two and with wide shoulders and hands like dinner plates. This man could easily have commanded an army.
“Fine,” she said when she remembered he’d asked her a question. “Thank you for drying my clothes. I feel like the amazing shrinking woman.” The sleeves of his sweatshirt hung over her hands, and the track pants were in real danger of falling down.
“No worries,” he said. “I rang the garage, by the way.”
“Oh?” Her heart skipped a beat.
His hesitation told her it wasn’t good news. “I’m sorry. They said the waterline was as high as the dashboard, and the fact that it was salt water makes it twice as bad. The water had stirred up a lot of sand, and it’s in the engine, the transmission, and the fuel system.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s not a quick fix. They can dry it out, but there’s so much crap in all the systems that they said it would make more sense to try to get your insurance company to write off the car.”
Angel’s legs gave way, and she sat heavily on the nearest chair. Just when she thought she was managing, something else came along to knock her sideways. “Shit.”
“I’m so sorry.” He lowered himself to the sofa.
She gave him a weak smile. “It’s not your fault. You’ve done enough to help.”
“I’m not just going to abandon you now. It’s nearly Christmas. I’m sure this wasn’t how you saw your vacation starting.”
“Not quite, no,” she said wryly. Her head was spinning. She’d have to get in touch with the insurance company, and they’d send round a loss adjuster who’d determine whether they would write off the car. But it was December 23 and a Saturday; most companies would have closed for Christmas now.
“Baby steps,” Hal said, obviously seeing the look on her face. “I have an idea. If you don’t mind keeping an eye on Jamie and Brenna for a few minutes, I’ll go to the garage, take a look at the car, and have a chat to Ian, who runs the place. After that, I’ll take you down to meet George so you can get the key to your cottage. I’ll bring back your bags, and you can see what’s salvageable.”
“That would be great, thank you so much.” She leaned back and passed her hand across her face.
“Are you feeling okay?” Hal asked.
“Not too bad. Tired and a little low, I suppose. To be expected.”
“You’ve been through a lot,” he said kindly. “You need rest and time to process what’s happened. Are you okay to stay with the kids or would you like me to take them with me?”
“No, no, I’ll be fine. They’re lovely children, Hal. You must be very proud.”
“I am,” he said, and smiled. Then he tipped his head to the side. “You don’t have kids?”
“No.” She looked into the fire. “I broke up with my boyfriend last Christmas, and I haven’t been out with anyone since. I’ve... not been well. I’m feeling a bit better now, but Christmas is a difficult time for me, so I’ve come here to spend a bit of time on my own. It’s supposed to be a healing island, isn’t it? Isn’t that how it got its name?”
“Yes,” he said. “Holy Island is full of quiet places to ponder. I hope you find what you’re looking for here.”
“Me too,” she said softly, liking the fact that he hadn’t pushed her to tell him more.
He got to his feet. “Well, I’ll go and see Ian now. I’ll be back in a while, and then we’ll get you to your cottage.” He took a business card out of his back pocket and gave it to her. “It has my mobile number in case you need it at any time.”
“Thank you.” She brushed her thumb across it. Halvar Carlson, Architectural Illustrator.
She heard him walk into the kitchen and tell his children he was going out for a while, but that she would be looking after them. He went to the front door, pulled on some boots and a coat. Then the door open and closed, and he was gone.
Angel looked at the clothes he’d brought. He’d folded them neatly, including her panties and bra. Her face grew warm. She should change into them, really. She’d do it in a minute, when she’d checked the kids were okay.
It was nothing to do with the fact that his sweatshirt smelled nice, and she wanted to keep it on for a bit longer.
She went into the kitchen, hoping that in the few minutes she’d left the kids unattended they hadn’t set fire to the place or cut their fingers off with scissors. They hadn’t. Hal had sat them at the dining table with a book of press-out Christmas decorations, coloring pencils, and glitter pens, and they were busy crafting while Christmas songs played on the radio in the background.
Angel’s heart melted a little at the sight of them coloring diligently, Jamie occasionally helping his little sister when she got stuck.
“Hello,” he said when he looked up and saw her in the doorway. “We’re making decorations.”
“Do you want to make one?” Brenna asked.
“I’d love to.” She sat between them, and Jamie passed her the book of decorations.
“Which one would you like?” he asked.
Angel flicked through them and smiled as she saw a bauble with Rudolph’s head on it. “That one.”
Jamie pressed it out for her. “You color both sides and then stick them together with a piece of cotton in the middle,” he explained.
“Like this,” Brenna told her, proudly showing her nearly finished bauble.
“Right. I’d better get started then.” Angel picked a red felt-tip and began coloring in Rudolph’s nose.
“You’re still wearing Daddy’s top,” Brenna said.
“Oh, yes.” Angel’s cheeks warmed. “Your dad has gone out to get my cases for me. Hopefully not all my clothes are ruined. Once I’m in my cottage, I’ll have a shower and change into something else.”
Brenna looked dismayed. “You’re leaving?”
“She doesn’t want to stay here,” Jamie said in a hushed voice, as if he thought Angel wouldn’t be able to hear it. “She’s come for a holiday. She doesn’t want to babysit two kids.”
“I don’t mind at all,” Angel said when Brenna’s bottom lip trembled. “But I don’t want to get in the way. This is your special time with your dad.”
Jamie shrugged and turned his decoration over to the other side. “He’s not bothered about us. He’s always late whenever it’s his turn to look after us.”
“Aw,” Angel said. She didn’t want to get involved in a drama, but she could see that this family was suffering at the moment, and it seemed like such a shame when both Hal and his kids were so lovely. “He has to work a long way from here. It makes it much harder to get home on time, especially living on the island.”
“He hates his job,” Jamie said, coloring his snowman’s hat a little too hard.
“Really?” Angel drew carefully around Rudolph’s antlers. “He sounded like he loved it.”
He stopped coloring for a moment, and played with the lid of the pen. “He doesn’t mind working. But he doesn’t like his boss.”
“He’s a nob,” Brenna said.
“Brenna!” Jamie gave her a guilty look, as if aware she’d picked up the word from him.
Angel laughed, though, and Jamie grinned. “It’s hard when your boss is a nob,” she said. “It can make it very unpleasant to go to work.”
“It’s not just that.” Jamie started coloring again. “Charles lives with Mum now.”
Angel stared at him. “Your mum lives with your dad’s boss?”
“Yeah.” Jamie changed to the orange pen to color in his snowman’s nose.
Angel studied the little boy, not knowing what to say. Hal had told her that his ex-wife had had an affair. It must have been with his boss. How awful for him to have to go into work every day and answer to the man who’d had an affair with his wife. It was none of her business, and yet her heart went out to Jamie as he bit his lip hard, tears glimmering on his lashes. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “It must be very hard for all of you.”
Jamie just sniffed and shrugged.
“Charles has white teeth,” Brenna said.
Jamie met Angel’s gaze and gave a wry grin. “Dad told me he puts white paint on them.’”
Angel giggled, and the children giggled with her. “Don’t make me laugh,” she scolded. “Your dad will tell me off.”
“What are you doing on Christmas Day?” Brenna asked.
“I don’t know,” Angel said. “I normally spend it with my family, but this year I might go for a walk, then watch a movie or something.”
“We have Finding Nemo and Frozen DVDs if you want to borrow them,” Brenna offered.
“She doesn’t want to watch those,” Jamie said.
“Why are you on your own?” Brenna asked, coloring the baubles on her Christmas tree with glitter pen and going all over the lines. “Are you married?”
“No,” Angel said.
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Not right now.”
“Boys are yuck,” Brenna said.
“Your dad isn’t,” Angel pointed out with a smile. “He’s very yummy.”
Brenna giggled, and Jamie’s eyebrows rose into his fringe.
“Did I say that out loud?” Angel said, suddenly realizing they were bound to tell him because kids seemed incapable of keeping a secret.
“I think he’s yummy,” Brenna said. “I’m going to marry him when I’m growed up.”
“You can’t marry Dad,” Jamie said with exasperation.
“Don’t worry,” Angel told her when the little girl’s lip wobbled. “You’ll meet your Prince Charming when you’re older.”
“Girls don’t want Prince Charming anymore,” Jamie commented. “That’s what Mum said.”
“Oh, I still want my Prince Charming,” Angel said. “I just hope he doesn’t mind waiting until after I’ve slain the dragon and saved the kingdom.”
Jamie laughed, and Angel smiled as she started coloring in Rudolph’s bright blue eyes.
