by Linda Turner
“The jitterbug?” Janey asked, and had to laugh at the very idea. “Lord, no! I was never very good at dancing. I guess I don’t have any rhythm.”
“Then today’s your lucky day,” Abby said, beaming. “Henry was just saying it’s been ages since he’s danced. He can teach you.”
Henry Perkins looked as shocked as Janey, but he quickly recovered and winked at her. “I promise not to step on your feet.”
“It’s not my feet I’m worried about,” she said with a chuckle. “I appreciate the offer, Henry, but—”
“But you don’t think you can do it,” he finished for her, his green eyes twinkling merrily. “Give me five minutes, and I promise I’ll change your mind.”
She shouldn’t have agreed. She really did have two left feet and had always felt less than graceful whenever she was forced to dance at weddings and special occasions. But Henry was one of her favorites, and she hated to disappoint him. “All right,” she sighed, giving in. “Five minutes. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Pleased, Henry didn’t give her time to change her mind. Quickly pushing tables and chairs out of the way, he cleared an open spot for a dance floor, then hurried over to the portable stereo set up against the far wall and flipped through the old albums stacked there. Before Janey had time to get nervous, the catchy beat of an old familiar big-band song was blaring from the speakers.
“We’re going to start with two steps,” Henry told her and demonstrated them for her. “Just listen to the beat and let me guide you. Ready?”
She wasn’t, but he didn’t give her time to object. Grinning, he took her hand in his, placed the other one on his narrow shoulder and, with no warning, swung her into the music.
Her head spinning, Janey gasped and tried to concentrate on the simple steps he’d showed her. One—two. One—two. But she’d barely got them down pat when he suddenly raised his arm and twirled her like a ballerina.
“Oh!”
Winking at her, he pulled her back to him and immediately fell back into the first two steps he’d taught her. With a will of their own, Janey’s feet followed suit, and just that easily she was dancing a simple version of the jitterbug. She couldn’t have been more stunned if she’d suddenly found herself in-line skating through the middle of town.
“My God, I’m dancing!” she laughed, amazed. “How did you do that?”
“I told you,” he said, grinning broadly. “You start with two steps. Once you’ve got that down, you throw in a few twirls, a little imagination, and you’re jitterbugging. Hang on, gal. Here we go.”
Laughing, she did as he said and hung on.
Reilly heard the music long before he knew where it was coming from. It drifted down the hall like the lilting melody of a Pied Piper, calling to all who would listen, sparking memories and smiles with its infectious beat. Already on his way toward the solarium in search of Janey, Reilly had to smile as a dozen or more of the nursing home’s ambulatory patients headed down the corridor in the same direction. There was just something about that music that was impossible to ignore.
Someone was obviously celebrating something, he decided as laughter and applause burst from the solarium. It was probably somebody’s hundredth birthday, and Janey had organized a party for them. Knowing her, she’d prob ably paid for a cake and refreshments herself—that was just the kind of thing she’d do. He’d just stop in for a few minutes and join the fun.
Stepping across the threshold into the large recreational room, he expected to find her passing slices of cake around and pouring punch. Instead, she was in the spindly arms of a man old enough to be her grandfather and laughing in delight as he twirled her to the hot swing of Benny Goodman.
Stunned, Reilly stopped in his tracks, a broad smile slowly spreading across his face. This was a side of Janey he hadn’t seen before. And he had to admit, he liked it. Her brown eyes sparkling like diamonds, she was in her element and having the time of her life. Enjoying himself immensely, Reilly could have stood right where he was the rest of the afternoon and just watched her dance.
Her partner, however, seemed to be running out of gas. Eighty if he was a day, his energy had started to fade, though he was trying his best to keep going. Slightly winded, he gave the dance everything he had, but he was already a step behind the beat. Giving in to impulse, Reilly stepped forward to cut in just as Janey began to twirl.
Between one heartbeat and the next, he’d taken over for the old man, and he did it so smoothly that Janey didn’t know the switch had been made until she finished her twirl and found herself face-to-face with him. “Reilly! How—”
“Your partner looked as if he could use a rest,” he said with a grin. “Do you mind?”
“No, of course not.”
“Good,” he chuckled, and sent her spinning away from him, then back toward him with a lift of his hand.
Later, neither of them could have said how long the song lasted. Reilly grinned down into Janey’s smiling face and time ceased to exist. There were just the two of them and the energetic, contagious beat of the music. Their feet moving, hearts pumping and breath tearing through their lungs, they weren’t Fred and Ginger, but they didn’t care. The song built to a crescendo and ended with a blare of horns. Reilly gave her one last twirl, and they collapsed in each other’s arms, laughing breathlessly.
Their elderly audience clapped wildly, and to the delight of everyone there, Reilly leaned down and brushed a lingering kiss to Janey’s cheek. “Five,” he murmured in a low voice that only she could hear. Just that easily he sent her heart tripping into double time.
Happier than she could ever remember being, she wanted to tell him just how much he had changed her life, but there was no time for any private conversation. The patients surged up to them then, surrounding them, eager to talk about the dance and the past and the days when they themselves had stayed out dancing every Saturday night until the wee hours of the morning. And before she knew it, Reilly had to slip away to return to his rounds.
How she worked after that, Janey never knew. Reilly came across her thoughts at the most unexpected times, and with no effort whatsoever she found herself recalling every moment she’d had with him. Their trek through Wild Horse Canyon, the fresh, clean scent of his cologne, the pine needles that got caught in his hair, decorating the Christmas tree. But most of all she remembered the way he made her feel when he held her in his arms. As if sunshine sparkled in her veins. It was wonderful, exhilarating, intoxicating.
Life had turned into one surprise after another, and it was all because of Reilly. The very fact that he was in her life at all was a surprise, but it was more than that. He was the surprise. Who would have thought he was the type of man to count kisses? Or jitterbug in the middle of the af ternoon in front of half the nursing home? She never knew what to expect from him next, and she loved it.
Because she was falling in love with him.
And that terrified her. She could be walking right into heartache, and there didn’t seem to be anything she could do about it. She told herself not to take him seriously, that he was still in love with his dead wife and she was going to get hurt if she wasn’t careful, but it was already too late for that. She had no defenses where he was concerned—he’d slipped past her guard the first time he kissed her.
Still, knowing how vulnerable she was where he was concerned, she should have tried to slow things down. It would have been the wise thing to do. But when she went out to her car after her shift was over and found a note under her windshield wiper, she forgot all about her good intentions and began to smile.
“Let’s have dinner together at my house after work. I’ll make spaghetti.”
There was no signature, but she didn’t need one. Even if she hadn’t recognized the nearly illegible writing from the instructions he made in patients’ charts, she would have known the note was from him. There was just something about it that had his name written all over it.
Grinning, she read it again—and knew t
here was no question that she was going.
Dressed in a bra and half slip, Janey frantically searched through her closet and couldn’t find a thing to wear. Frustrated, she swore softly. How could she have a whole closet full of clothes and have nothing to wear? It made no sense! Where was her black knit dress?
“It has to be here somewhere,” she mumbled to herself as she flicked through the dresses hanging at one end of her closet. “You’ve just overlooked it.”
“Janey?” Knocking briefly at her bedroom door, Sara stuck her head inside. “There you are, dear. Good, you’re still getting ready. I just wanted to tell you that Dan’s going with us. I called Reilly, and he okayed it as long as we came straight home, afterward. He doesn’t want him to get too tired.”
Distracted, Janey never took her eyes from the clothes on the rack in front of her. “Going with us?” she repeated absently. “Where?”
“To Ed’s, silly,” her mother laughed. “It’s Monday night. Remember?”
She hadn’t. Swearing softly under her breath, Janey wanted to kick herself. How could she have forgotten? She and her mother went out to eat every Monday night at Ed’s Diner, come rain or shine. It had become a ritual over the years, one they both took for granted and never forgot. Until now.
“You forgot,” Sara said, smiling teasingly.
She couldn’t lie. “Yeah. It’s been a hectic day. And Reilly invited me to dinner.” Guilt swamping her at the idea of abandoning their usual plans for a spur-of-the-moment date, she said quickly, “Don’t worry. I’ll call him and explain—”
“You’ll do no such thing!”
“But we already had plans.”
“So we’ll go next Monday if you don’t have a date,” Sara said easily. “It’s no big deal, honey. Dan and I will still go. He’s been cooped up in the house, and the change of scenery will do him good.”
Janey knew she was only trying to make her feel better, but that only increased her guilt. “When I was growing up, you always told me it was rude to make plans with one person, then bail out on them if you were invited somewhere else later. How is this any different?”
Sara had to smile at that. Out of all her children, Janey was the one who had always asked her to explain herself, to make her understand when she couldn’t see the wisdom of something. “It isn’t, but it is,” she said, sinking down onto the edge of the bed for a heart-to-heart. “Yes, we had previous plans, but those plans are really just part of a routine we’ve fallen into over the years. It’s nice when we can do it, but I’d never expect you to give up your own social life for me. Especially since someone special has come into your life. I want you to go out, to have fun. You’re young and single and you should be doing those things.
“And don’t you dare feel guilty about leaving your poor old mother at home alone,” she added with a frown.
Janey had to smile at that. “You’re not old.”
“No, I’m not,” she agreed proudly. “I have my own life, my own friends and interests, and plenty to keep me busy. There’s only one thing I want right now, and that’s for you to find happiness. So please don’t worry about me. I’m just fine.”
There was no doubting her sincerity. Love squeezing her heart, Janey blinked back tears. She’d always known she’d been blessed with one of the best mothers in the world, but she was only now beginning to realize just how incredibly special she was.
“Thanks, Mom,” she said huskily, giving her a quick hug. “So will you help me get ready for my first real honest-to-goodness date? I can’t seem to decide what to wear.”
Grinning broadly, Sara laughed and hugged her back. “I’d love to, sweetheart. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
When Janey sailed out of the house thirty minutes later, Sara watched her leave with tears in her eyes. She’d come so far in the last few weeks. Dressed in a winter-white angora sweater and matching wool slacks, her makeup soft and subtle, she had a confidence in herself as a woman that she’d never had before, and Sara was thrilled for her. She was finding her way, discovering what she wanted out of life, and she couldn’t have been happier for her. Or sadder.
She was losing her daughter.
Oh, she knew she would never really lose her—any more than she’d lost the rest of the children when they’d moved out and eventually married. But she and Janey had a special closeness. For so long it had been just the two of them there in the house together, and now life was changing, much faster than she’d ever expected. She had a feeling that nothing was ever going to be quite the same again, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that.
Lost in her musings, she didn’t realize Dan was watching every nuance of her expression until he took her hand in his and squeezed it comfortingly. “Hey, don’t look so down. You’ve still got me. Well, at least until tomorrow,” he quipped with a crooked grin. “Wanna fool around? It could be the last chance we get.”
Caught off guard, Sara had to laugh. She’d driven Dan into town earlier for an appointment with Reilly, who was so pleased with his progress that he’d announced he was well enough to go home in the morning. He was still under orders to take things easy and rest, which meant no strenuous activity. And no fooling around.
Not that Dan was serious about that, she assured herself. He was just trying to tease her out of a blue funk. Wasn’t he? Not as sure as she would have liked to be, she pretended to consider. “I guess this is our last night together, isn’t it? Wouldn’t you know it, though—Reilly said you’re not supposed to exert yourself. Darn! I guess we’ll have to wait.”
Not the least surprised by her response, he grinned in appreciation. “Then we’ll have to go with plan B and go to Ed’s, instead. If that’s all right with you, of course.”
Flashing him a smile, she slipped her arm through his. “I thought you’d never ask, Doctor. Let’s go.”
If there was one night of the week that was slower than the others at Ed’s, it was Monday night. The special, which was always a comfort food from Ed’s childhood, was corned beef and cabbage, and that wasn’t a favorite with a lot of the locals. It was, however, with Sara and Janey, which was why the two of them had started eating there on Monday nights in the first place.
That didn’t mean, though, that the place was deserted. There were plenty of items on the regular menu to bring people in, and just about every table was occupied. Ed, however, had been watching for Sara, and as soon as he saw Dan was with her, he quickly cleaned the one empty table left and seated them himself.
“I don’t have to ask what Sara’s having,” he said gruffly, “but I’ve got a feeling your diet’s changed, Doc. So what’s it going to be? Baked fish or the turkey breast without gravy and stuffing?”
“Neither,” he retorted with a quick frown. “I’ll have the corned beef, too.”
Sara stiffened at that. “Oh, no, you won’t!”
“Now, Sara—”
Far from perturbed, Ed didn’t bother to get involved in the discussion. Instead, he jotted Sara’s order down on his notepad, then growled, “And fish for the doc, no tartar sauce. I’ll be right back with your orders.”
Winking at Sara, he turned and strode off, not the least concerned that Dan was muttering curses at his back.
Biting her lip, Sara tried her best not to smile, but she was fighting a losing battle. Scowling, Dan grumbled, “I don’t know what you’re laughing at. You get to order what you want.”
“He’s only trying to protect you from your own bad habits,” she said with a chuckle. “You know what Reilly said. No fat.”
“So what’d he do?” he demanded. “Call everybody in town and tell them to watch my diet for me?”
Sara wouldn’t have put it past him. When it came to his patients, Reilly was extremely protective. “So what if he did? I seem to remember you doing something like that once with Trudy Goodyear. You called all her girlfriends and told them not to let her have any more candy at their bridge club meetings because she was trying to lose weight and didn�
�t have any willpower.”
“But I’m not an airhead like Trudy. I’ve got plenty of willpower!” Amused, Sara arched a brow at him. “Oh, really? Since when is corned beef on a low-fat diet?”
She had him there and they both knew it. Grinning sheepishly, he said, “Okay, so maybe I got a little carried away. I’m just feeling so good, and I can’t remember the last time I had corned beef. So I thought, what the heck? What can it hurt?”
“It’s that attitude that landed you in the hospital in the first place, Dr. Michaels.”
“Said the tortoise to the hare.” Glancing pointedly at the huge plate of food Ed set before her just then, he drawled, “You were saying, Miss Corned Beef?”
Another woman might have found herself put in her place, but not Sara McBride. Enjoying herself immensely, she merely smiled. “Unlike someone else at this table, I don’t have a problem with my cholesterol.”
Neatly trumped, there was nothing else Dan could do but laugh and concede defeat. “Game, set and match to Mrs. McBride.”
Sara couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such a wonderful time. But then again, she and Dan had always enjoyed each other’s company, and that hadn’t changed with the passage of time. They’d been friends for so long that they knew each other’s strengths and shortcomings, likes and dislikes, and could usually even finish each other’s sentences.
As she pulled into her own garage an hour later with him at her side, she tried to convince herself it was for the best if their relationship remained just as it was. She counted on him so much to be there for her as a friend that she didn’t ever want to risk losing that.
Not that there was much chance of things changing between them, she assured herself as she unlocked the door and he followed her inside. True, he had kissed her, but only that one time. He’d shown no inclination to do it again, so despite his claims to the contrary, he’d obviously decided he wasn’t romantically interested in her, after all. And that was all right. She wasn’t the kind of woman who expected men to fall at her feet. If a part of her secretly longed for him to kiss her again, that was nobody’s business but her own.
