Page 2

“Charge Nurse Arbuthnot,” Malc said, a little breathlessly as he blinked behind his round glasses.

I gave my most junior nurse a soft smile. “It’s Nisa, Malc.” Everyone called me Nisa at the community hospital—​Charge Nurse was too formal for our tiny and close-​knit team. In any case, I wasn’t really an Arbuthnot at the moment, not since Drew had walked out on me. But I deliberately hadn’t gotten a new ID badge with my maiden name—​Ansari—​on it. Because that would mean I was giving up on my marriage, and I was nowhere near ready for that.

“Nisa,” Malc said hesitantly, trying the two syllables carefully, as if they might explode. “Claire said to come and fetch you. We have a bit of a situation that requires your attention.”

“No problem,” I told him. “What’s up?”

“Mrs. Jenkins has stolen Mrs. Ferguson’s walking frame again, and they’re having a stand-up argument about it in the middle of the ward,” Malc told me, keeping his voice low in a conspiratorial manner.

Joan Jenkins had taken a shine to Edna Ferguson’s walking aid, because Edna had pimped hers up by winding red tinsel around the frame. As if that wasn’t an obvious enough sign that the stolen frame wasn’t Joan’s, it also had the name Edna hanging from the top bar in green and red felt.

“Lead the way,” I told Malc, sighing as I rolled my eyes. Although deep down I couldn’t say that I minded, really. The antics at the Inverglen Community Hospital were a good distraction from my marital problems. I’d already gone overboard in an attempt to distract myself with various tasks around the facility; the cupboards on every ward and in every office were now organized to the nth degree. I’d even brought in my label maker and attached labels to everything I could find. My senior nurse Claire had joked that she was worried I was going to start sticking labels on all the staff and patients.

I had also gone all out in decorating the hospital a tad early for Christmas, hoping to muster a bit of festive spirit not only for my patients but also for myself. Uncharacteristically, I was having difficulty in that department this year, what with facing my first Christmas alone.

Normally this was my favorite time of year, and decorating the ward was a job I always relished and took great pride in. This year I had erected a large, brightly decorated Christmas tree in the foyer, placed smaller ones on both wards, and put mini trees in the single rooms and staff office. I had also strung tinsel along the ward walls and placed those sticky gel decorations in the shape of Santa, snowflakes, and reindeer on all the windows. But so far my festive spark was still sputtering.

*

Eventually, I managed to separate Mrs. Jenkins and Mrs. Ferguson, return the walking frame to its rightful owner, and also relieve Mrs. Ferguson of the hearing aid she had stolen from Mrs. Jenkins in retaliation. I also pimped Mrs. Jenkins’s frame with silver tinsel and a homemade glittery name badge that said Joan, in the hope that jazzing up her walking frame would lessen the temptation to steal Mrs. Ferguson’s again. Then, finally, it was time to clock off for the evening.

I climbed into my Mini, breath puffing into clouds of condensation in the cold air, and set off down the winding country road that led through the hills toward home.

A thick frost glistened on the tarmac and coated the fields and bare trees in glittering white, as if snowfall had already arrived in mid-​November. I always felt that there was something magical about winter in the Highlands, and this notion was amplified as I reached the outskirts of town where the first of the Christmas sparkle came into view. Some of the houses had chosen to get their trees up early, and I was treated to the sight of shiny baubles and twinkly fairy lights draped around lush green trees standing proudly on display in cozy-​looking living room windows.

Perhaps that was it! When I got home I could make myself a mug of my signature hot chocolate and put my tree up early. Making my home festive might provide the much-​needed distraction I had been searching for and also fire up my festive spirit. I smiled as I continued on my way home, hopeful that my Christmas spark awaited me there.

2

Kerr

THE SMOKY-​GRAY CAT stared at me from inside its carrier, its amber eyes wide and unblinking.

“There now,” I murmured, keeping my voice low and steady. “I’m not going to hurt you, puss.”

A stifled squeak emerged from the corner of the veterinary office and I glanced up to find my new nurse, Stacey, making a strange expression. Stacey had not long finished her veterinary nurse diploma, after studying and then working in Aberdeen. She had been born and bred in Inverglen and had decided that she wanted to come home to be near her family, in particular her wee nephew. And so I had taken her on when my previous nurse had moved away.

This was her first week working with us. I knew that she didn’t usually communicate in squeaks, having managed to get through a virtual interview using normal words and sentences, and so I guessed that she must have stubbed her toe or something. But this was no time to be distracted by my staff’s minor ailments, not when I had a frightened feline on my hands.

“Okay,” I soothed, slowly and carefully opening up the top of the carrier so the cat was exposed, then gently shifting my hand to stroke him from head to midsection. “There we go now, you’re safe with me.”

Something sounding like a sigh emerged from Stacey’s direction, so I glanced up with a frown. “You all right?” If she was about to keel over or something, then better for her to leave the room so as not to disturb little Smudge here.

She nodded quickly, biting her lip. “Mm-hmm.”

With a shrug, I shifted my attention back to Smudge, easing my hands ever so carefully around the cat and lifting him to my chest where I cuddled him, continuing to speak in a low and soothing voice and stroking the cat’s head with one hand while holding him close with the other.

The wee thing’s racing heart gradually began to slow and I gave him a few more minutes of soothing before signaling to Stacey to get into position to help hold him for examination.

Easing Smudge onto the table, I waited for Stacey to place her gloved hands onto him before I released the cat in favor of my stethoscope. His heart and breathing sounded fine, and I gave his head a stroke as I palpated his tummy.

Eventually, once I was satisfied that there was nothing wrong, I gave Stacey the nod to release Smudge and I placed him back into the carrier—​after giving him an obligatory cuddle, of course.

Closing the carrier again, I lifted my gaze to find myself caught in the unblinking blue-​eyed stare of Stacey. What the hell was wrong with this woman? “Can you take him back through to Mrs. Henderson, please?” I asked, shifting from one foot to the other as a prickle of discomfort itched at my skin. “All fine, nothing to worry about at all.”

“Of course, Dr. Murdoch. I mean, Kerr,” she corrected herself, blushing. At least she’d managed to catch herself, saving me from parroting “Please, call me Kerr” for the millionth time that day.

Stacey lugged Smudge’s carrier out of the examination room as I washed my hands, then set about typing up my notes. Barely two minutes had passed when Stacey peered around the office door. “Erm, Mrs. Henderson would like a word with you. She says she simply must thank you for saving wee Smudgey Wudgey’s life,” she said, impressively keeping a straight face as she delivered that message verbatim.