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It was everybody’s idea of a perfect Christmas scene. The air was still. No breath of wind ruffled the pristine banks of snow that surrounded the cabin. The night sky was inky black, scattered with myriad stars that twinkled like diamonds. Inside the cosy cabin, two people sat on the floor before a blazing log fire, their backs to a sofa and their arms around each other. Inspector Margaret Fraser sighed.
“It was a wonderful day, Ben. I’m glad we invited them to our place this year.”
Her husband smiled as he held her closer. “Yes, my love. Christmas is a time for families to be together and for the kids to have fun.” His smile faded as he looked at her. “Meg, I didn’t mean…..”
This was the third Christmas they had spent together since they married. When Ben and his friend Ray Kowalski had returned from their leave of absence, he had felt ready to take up his career again. The restlessness he had felt in those last weeks in Chicago had been assuaged. His parents were at peace, but was he? During the weeks away with Kowalski, he had time to put his thoughts in order. He should have told her. That last night among the howling wolves, he should have told her how much he loved her. But he had been a coward, afraid to risk another humiliating rejection by another beautiful, dark-haired woman. Instead they had exchanged a brief goodbye kiss and they had parted as friends. He knew his adventure with Kowalski was running away from facing his feelings, but he could no longer bear being near her and being nothing to her.
So he had numbed his emotions along with his limbs in the biting Arctic winds, and when he returned, he was ready to pick up the threads of his life and this time, he would tell her. Except that she had gone. She had been replaced at the consulate by a mild-mannered bespectacled bureaucrat. It took him several weeks to winkle out that she had been seconded to the Canadian security services and had disappeared from his life for ever. He felt there was nothing to keep him in Chicago now. The two Rays had formed an unlikely but highly successful partnership and he felt himself superfluous. He applied for a transfer, and somewhat to his surprise he was promoted to sergeant and sent to oversee a small RCMP outpost in the Northern Territories. He was content.
When Meg Thatcher left the Yukon camp that day her heart was in tatters. For the first time in her life, she felt she was putting someone else’s wellbeing before her own. It had slowly dawned on her that that was what being in love truly meant. This was what had finally convinced her that she loved Benton Fraser. The attraction she had felt from the beginning had grown into a deep love. She supposed it had started on the train. The devastation she had felt when she thought he had fallen to his death; the thrill of the physical connection when they were handcuffed into that embrace; the kiss… God, that kiss! Never before had she felt the electricity which convulsed her body when he kissed her. When it was all over and they were back to the consulate, to say that she was confused would have been the understatement of the century. She was his commanding officer. To have succumbed to the attraction she felt for him would be construed as taking advantage of her position; sexual harassment even. So she had shut down her emotions; shut him out of anything but strictly professional contact; blanked him. It was the only way, she told herself.
Then the prospect of promotion had cropped up; transferring to a more prestigious position in Ottawa. At first the idea excited her. Then the realisation dawned that it would mean parting from him. Perhaps never seeing him again. But wait, she thought. She would be senior enough to request her own staff. She could take him with her. She was elated at the idea until Francesca Vecchio of all people had pointed out that his home was not in some crowded polluted city, but in the icy north where his soul belonged. Then she was caught up in the capture of Muldoon and that was when she knew Francesca was right. She had no claim on him. She had no right to keep him tied to her skirts in an urban environment simply because she could not bear to be parted from him. That was selfishness. That was not what love was about. So she had hardened her heart, kissed him goodbye and fled. Her term at the Chicago consulate had come to an end and she was recruited, not to some bureaucratic post in Ottawa, but into the security service. At first it had been exciting after the monotony of her life at the consulate, but gradually she came to resent the pretence of living as someone she was not. Her cover was blown by an inexperienced agent and it was with some relief she found herself hastily repatriated to Canada and an office job at RCMP HQ in Ottawa. She was content.
It was a seminar at Depot that brought them together. He had been enlisted to give a lecture on wilderness tracking techniques to prospective new recruits. She was called upon to give a discourse on the place of women in a modern police force. They had come face to face on the first evening and all previous doubts and hesitations had flown out of the window. He held out his hand to her and said one word. “Meg”. In an instant she was in his arms and oblivious of the curious stares of those around them, he buried his face in her hair as tears coursed down both their cheeks. They had been given a second chance by fate and they did not hesitate to take it. They were married within weeks and Meg transferred to oversight of four outposts, including Ben’s. She adapted to the northern conditions for his sake and found herself thriving on active field work once again.
So their life settled down. Meg was 37 when they married and they agreed that they would not put off starting a family. Sadly the months and years went by and nothing happened. They resigned themselves to the fact that they had left it too late and threw themselves into their jobs. Ben’s sister, Maggie, had married an officer at one of Meg’s stations and lived nearby. The young couple had produced three boys in a row and Ben and Meg revelled in their nephews. This third Christmas of their marriage, the Frasers had invited the young family over to their comfortable cabin to spend Christmas Day together as a family. Ben had revelled in playing with his nephews and their new toys and had been crouched on the floor enjoying the train set that one of the boys had received when he looked up and saw Meg cradling the youngest on her lap and gently singing to him. His heart broke for her, but she looked up, caught his eye and smiled. The happy day ended with both families crowded round the Frasers’ piano, singing carols and Christmas songs, then Maggie and her family had departed for their own house a couple of miles away.
So here they were, sitting in front of the fire, lost in each other.
“I think that was the best Christmas ever,” whispered Ben, holding his wife tight.
“You think so?” asked Meg. “I’m willing to bet next year will be even better.”
“Why on earth do you say that?” asked Ben but she put her fingers to his lips to silence him.
She put her hand into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a small box wrapped in Christmas paper. “Here,” she said, “This is for you.”
“But I’ve already had your present,“ he protested. “The new fishing rod was just what I wanted.”
“This isn’t from me,” she whispered. “It’s from someone else.”
He hesitated for a moment then unwrapped the parcel and opened the box. Inside lay a metal keyring.
“Read what it says,” she said as he took the keyring out of the box and held it up to the firelight. On the fob was engraved one word. “Daddy”.
“Meg, I don’t understand….” he protested, but she silenced him with a kiss.
“Next Christmas will be the best ever because, God willing, you’ll be a father.”
“Meg… are you…?” He hardly dared say the word
“Yes, Ben. I’m pregnant. Ten weeks. I didn’t want to tell you sooner in case anything went wrong. But Dr Scott says everything is going well. The baby’s due at the beginning of July. Maybe even on Canada Day.”
“Are you suggesting if it’s a girl we call her Canada?” he asked. “Oh my darling, I can’t believe it . After all this time. I love you so much, Meg. I’ll take such good care of you.”
“I’m not ill, Ben,” she laughed. “I don’t need mollycoddling.”
“I reserve the right to mollycoddle the mother of my child as much as I want,” he said, “whether she wants it or not. Oh, Meg.” He pulled her to him for a passionate kiss. Then he drew back. “I suppose we shouldn’t now,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to hurt the baby…or you.”
She took his hand and tugged him to his feet. “Dr Scott assures me that it won’t do the baby any harm at all and it will do me the world of good,” and with a soft giggle she pulled him towards their bedroom.
Sure enough, on 1st July the following summer Robert Raymond Fraser and his sister Caroline Margaret Fraser entered the world. They were all very, very content, and the next Christmas was indeed the best Christmas ever.