Holly's Heart

Inc.

Elam took me by the hand and gently tugged me in his direction; I floated up on the couch beside him.

He rubbed my arm. Holly, you feel cold. He lay down and pulled me back against his chest, his arms wrapped around me.

Minutes crawled by while I struggled to breathe normally.

I can feel your heartbeat through your back, he whispered.

I'm a little—

His breath had warmed the back of my neck. Are you warmer now?

A shiver rippled over my skin from my toes to my head. Almost, I managed.

Almost isn't good enough. He leaned up on one elbow, looking down at me and stroking the side of my face with his fingertips. You are incredibly beautiful, Holly. No wonder Marco went after you.

I rolled over on my back and looked up into his eyes. There is no…

He leaned down and skimmed his lips over mine in a friendly kiss. I am so happy you came this weekend.

I tilted my chin and gently kissed him back. Elam, Elam, Elam…So am I. I wanted more. I yearned for more. I shivered again.

Elam cleared his throat, moved over and stood up. It is cold in here. He grabbed my pillow and the blanket off the floor and spread it over me. I'm not sure L.A. warmed you up as much as you'd hoped.

Maybe nothing is as much as I'd hoped.

The Christmas Frost Series

FINDING JOY

NOELLE’S KISS

HOLLY’S HEART

CHRISSY’S CATCH

These are the stories of the four Frost sisters, who overcome heartache, betrayal and ghosts from the past to find true love and bring back the magic of Christmas.

Holly’s Heart

by

Melinda Sanchez

Christmas Frost, Book 3

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Holly’s Heart

COPYRIGHT © 2019 by Melinda Sue Sanchez

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

Cover Art by Kristian Norris

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Sweetheart Rose Edition, 2019

Print ISBN 978-1-5092-2923-9

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-2924-6

Christmas Frost, Book 3

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

To my mother,

Who kept me going through

the years of unrequited love.

And to my husband,

Who made it all worth it.

Chapter One

Tiny sparkles in the tile reflected light in the dim hallway as I passed between rooms. Numerous vital checks, and a dozen doses of medicine later, I welcomed a ten-minute break before I tackled the paperwork—mounds and mounds of paperwork.

The door to the employee lounge expelled a soft gush of air as I entered, looking to quiet my hunger pangs with a stale treat from the vending machine. I peered closely to choose between an apple and a strawberry granola bar, and someone came up from behind and poked me in the ribs. I let out a squeal and spun around to the laughing face of my coworker, Alice. We cupped our hands over our mouths. If we woke the patients at 3:00 in the morning, we would spend the next several hours getting them all settled again.

What are you thinking? You’ll get us both fired, I whispered.

Alice stood half a head shorter than me and her curls bobbed as she stifled her giggle. You almost jumped a mile.

You almost gave me a heart attack.

Well, you are in the right place for it, anyway. But what are you doing working another night shift, Holly? You work more overtime and late shifts than any nurse I know. You have seniority, you know.

There’s such a high demand in pediatrics. They needed someone.

Ehh—like I said, you are covering for this shift too much. Maybe you need someone, Holly. Someone at home you don’t want to leave at night.

I smiled. My cat? Oh, she’s fine. But seriously, sometimes I want to be here late like this.

Yeah, right. She smirked.

I do, especially here in pediatrics. The empty quiet is too spooky for some of these kids. Their little whispery voices and soft, pudgy hands get to me. I like giving comfort in the middle of their lonely nights.

Alice and I both looked over in surprise when someone sat up on the couch in the back of the lounge.

You need a man, honey. Good—bad—it don’t matter, as long as it’s a man.

I looked into the plump face and dark eyes of our nurse’s aide, Mrs. Torres, and put my hands on my hips. I’ve got people sneaking up on me all over in this place. I didn’t know it would be so scary in here.

She shook her head. No, honey, you need to hear what I say. You want to give comfort so much? That means you need comfort. You need a man.

I cleared my throat and pushed the hair that had come loose from my ponytail back behind my ear. Ha. Well, you may be right. But nowadays I wonder if I’d be better off to forget men altogether.

Her eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips. Oh dear, you got it worse than I feared. You are in love with a man who breaks your heart. She wiggled to her feet. I’ve been an aide here a long, long time, and I seen you come and go, come and go, all the time. You are too lonely, Miss Holly.

My words froze for a moment before I opened my mouth to protest again, sure that I’d given her the wrong impression. But she walked up, shaking her head and waved her hand in front of my face to shush me.

You stare in space with those big eyes like that; I know what I see. She scribbled something on the back of a patient’s menu card someone had left on the coffee table and handed it back to me. Here is my number. My Pablo is not married. He is going bald and is a little lazy, but he has a good heart.

The break room door closed behind Mrs. Torres when she left, and Alice and I had our hands over our mouths again, stifling a laugh.

I didn’t know I was so transparent, I whispered.

Alice’s eyes widened before she headed out of the lounge. You better watch out; Pablo may show up during your shift with a bouquet of roses one of these days.

I laughed and shook my head before I turned back to the vending machine. Mrs. Torres loved to mother the young nurses, but at age twenty-eight I’d certainly learned a few things about my own life and knew my own feelings. There was no way I was transparent because of a broken heart. Those days were long gone, sewn up and tossed, wrapped and buried, resolved and finished. Fini, as I’d learned to say in France last year.

I chose the apple granola bar and washed it down with bottled water. It hit my stomach in a lump.

A large picture window framed the end of the hall, and I stopped to look outside when I left the lounge. Occasional codes chimed over the speaker system throughout the hospital, followed by pages for various doctors and calls for emergencies. No wonder the children woke up so often in the night.

Three more minutes left on my break. I gazed out the huge window. A thin layer of snow settled on the lawn in front of the hospital, and I rubbed my arms to ward off the chill it inspired. February in Colorado Springs can be pretty cold.

I loved this hospital. And my job, despite the questions people asked me all the time about how I could stand the gory parts of being a nurse.

Alice came back up and nudged me. You’ve gotten quiet all of a sudden.

Then I’m surprised you didn’t try to make me jump again.

I can’t risk my job any more tonight. And, I’ve got a problem with one of the patients. Her dimpled cheeks lowered in a frown. It’s that little six-year-old, Jamie Cook. She isn’t getting better, and in spite of my usual rule about getting too attached, I’m worried about her.

I rubbed my arms again. That’s why I only work as a substitute in the pediatric ward. I don’t have the strength to keep myself professionally focused if I work with the children too long.

You’re the most focused and efficient nurse at this hospital.

Glad I’ve got you fooled. I looked up and down the halls of the pediatric floor. You know why I really love pediatrics, even though I can’t stand to work here full time.

She looked out the window beside me. Yes. I know you lost your baby brother. I’m so sorry. But I would bet that when your family’s new children’s wing is built and dedicated, you’re going to want to work in it full time.

I just might. I watched a street sweeper roll by, the yellow light on top blinking and its headlights illuminating the huge, empty field where the pediatrics wing would go. I may never want to leave, if it makes me feel closer to my parents and brother.

It will. She patted my shoulder. They will be guardian angels over everyone who comes through those doors. She put her arm