UP CLOSE, HE looked even more…
More outdoorsy. Taller and blonder and… Just more. A two-day beard covered a square jaw, and his mane of shoulder-length hair was tied at the nape of his neck. His casual shirt and worn jeans gave the impression of an off-duty Norse god, and Flora McNeith resisted the temptation to curtsey. It was slightly over the top as a greeting for a new neighbour.
‘Hi. I’m Flora. From next door.’ She gestured towards her own cottage, tugging at Dougal’s lead in a fruitless attempt to get him to sit down for just one moment. ‘Welcome to the village.’
He looked a little taken aback when she thrust the food box, containing half a dozen home-made mince pies into his hands. It might be more than three weeks until Christmas, but the lights of the Christmas tree in the village had already been turned on, and in Flora’s book any time after September was a good time for mince pies.
‘That’s very kind.’ His voice was very deep, the kind of tone that befitted the very impressive chest that it came from. And it appeared that whatever kind of deity Aksel Olson was, language and communication weren’t part of his remit. He was regarding her silently.
‘I work at the Heatherglen Castle Clinic. I hear that your daughter, Mette, is a patient there.’ Maybe if she explained herself a little more, she might get a reaction.
Something flickered in his eyes at the mention of his daughter. Reflective and sparkling, like sunshine over a sheet of ice.
‘Are you going to be part of Mette’s therapy team?’
Right. That put Flora in her place. Apparently that was the only thing that interested Aksel about her.
‘No, I’m a physiotherapist. I gather that your daughter is partially sighted…’ Flora bit her tongue. That sounded as if everyone was gossiping about him, which was half-true. The whisper that Mette’s father was single had gone around like wildfire amongst the female staff at the clinic. Now that Flora had met Aksel, she understood what the excitement was all about.
‘You read the memo, then?’ Something like humour flashed in his eyes, and Flora breathed a small sigh of relief. Lyle Sinclair must have told him about the memo.
‘Yes. I did.’ Every time a new patient was admitted a memo went round, introducing the newest member of the clinic’s community and asking every member of staff to welcome them. It was just one of the little things that made the clinic very special.
‘Would you like to come in for coffee?’ Suddenly he stood back from the door.
‘Oh!’ Aksel’s taciturn manner somehow made the words he did say seem more sincere. ‘I shouldn’t… Dougal and I are just getting used to each other and I haven’t dared take him anywhere for coffee yet. I’m afraid he’ll get over-excited and do some damage.’
Aksel squatted down on his heels, in front of the ten-week-old brindle puppy, his face impassive.
‘Hi, there, Dougal.’
Dougal was nosing around the porch, his tail wagging ferociously. At the sound of his name he looked up at Aksel, his odd ears twitching to attention. He circled the porch, to show off his new red fleece dog coat, and Flora stepped over the trailing lead, trying not to get snagged in it. Then Dougal trotted up to Aksel, nosing at his outstretched hand, and decided almost immediately he’d found a new best buddy. Finally, Aksel smiled, stroking the puppy’s head.
‘I’m sure we’ll manage. Why don’t you come in?’
Two whole sentences. And the sudden warmth in his eyes was very hard to resist.
‘In that case… Thank you.’ Flora stepped into the hallway and Dougal tugged on his lead in delight.
He took her coat, looking around the empty hallway as if it was the first time he’d seen it. There was nowhere to hang it and he walked into the kitchen, draping it neatly over the back of one of the chairs that stood around the table. Flipping open a series of empty cupboards, he found some packets of coffee and a small copper kettle, which seemed to be the only provisions he’d brought with him.
Dougal had recovered from his customary two seconds of shyness over being in a new environment and was tugging at the lead again, clearly having seen the young chocolate-coloured Labrador that was sitting watchfully in a dog basket in the far corner of the kitchen. Flora bent down, trying to calm him, and he started to nuzzle at her legs.
‘Kari. Gi labb.’ In response to Aksel’s command, the Labrador rose from its bed, trotting towards them, then sitting down and offering her paw to Flora. Flora took it and Kari then started to go through her own getting-to-know-you routine with Dougal.
‘She’s beautiful.’ The Labrador was gentle and impressively well trained. ‘This is Mette’s assistance dog?’
Aksel nodded. ‘Kari’s staying with me for a while, until Mette settles in. She’s not used to having a dog.’
‘Part of the programme, up at the clinic, will be getting Mette used to working with Kari. You’ll be taking her there when you visit?’
‘Yes. I find that the canine therapy centre has some use for me in the mornings, and I’ll spend every afternoon with Mette.’
‘It’s great that you’re here to give her all the support she needs.’
He nodded quietly. ‘Mette’s sight loss is due to an injury in a car accident. Her mother was driving, and she was killed.’
Flora caught her breath. The rumours hadn’t included that tragic detail. ‘I’m so sorry. It must be incredibly hard for you both.’
‘It is for Mette. Lisle and I hadn’t been close for some years.’
All the same, he must feel something… But from the finality in his tone and the hint of blue steel in his eyes, Aksel clearly didn’t want to talk about it. She should drop the subject.
Kari had somehow managed to calm Dougal’s excitement, and Flora bent down to let him off the lead. But as soon as she did so, Dougal bounded over to Aksel, throwing himself at his ankles. Aksel smiled suddenly, bending towards the little dog, his quiet words and his touch calming him.
‘Sorry… I’ve only had him a couple of days, I’m looking after him for Esme Ross-Wylde.’ Aksel must know who Esme was if he was working at the canine therapy centre. Charles and Esme Ross-Wylde were a brother and sister team, Charles running the Heatherglen Castle Clinic, and Esme the canine therapy centre. ‘He’s a rescue dog and Esme’s trying to find him a good home.’
‘You can’t take him?’ Aksel’s blue gaze swept up towards her, and Flora almost gasped at its intensity.
‘No…no, I’d like to but…’ Flora had fallen in love with the puppy almost as soon as she’d seen him. He’d been half-starved and frightened of his own shadow when he’d first been found, but as soon as he’d been given a little care his loving nature had emerged. The strange markings on his shaggy brindle coat and his odd ears had endeared him to Flora even more.
‘It wouldn’t be fair to leave him alone all day while you were at work.’ Aksel’s observation was exactly to the point.
‘Yes, that’s right. I drop him off at the canine therapy