by Beverly Rae
Chance opened his mouth to speak, then shook his head and strode out of the room.
Chapter Six
“What the hell? Where did Chance go?”
“Huh? Chance who?” Bill pulled her closer to nibble on her neck. “How about I come back tonight?”
Meg pushed against him. “I like you, Bill, I really do, but you knew this was a one-time thing.”
“Yeah, sure. But if you ever want another booty call, I’m your man. This was the best sex I’ve ever had.”
Didn’t I tell you it would be? She touched his cheek, gently. “Aw, you’re sweet. And because you’re so sweet, I’m going to give you a gift.”
He laughed. “I thought you just did.” He moved to take her in his arms. “What kind of gift?”
“If you think this was good, wait until the next time.”
He studied her, suspicion in his eyes. “I don’t get it. If this was just a one-time thing, then—”
Meg whipped her hand in front of Bill, cutting off his sentence. Blue mist floated around him as she chanted a spell of sexual skill.
“What did you just do, sugar?”
“I just gave you the gift of sexual prowess.”
“Huh? I don’t get it.” He grinned and tried to tug her to him. “Is this some kind of game? ’Cause if it is, I’m ready to play.”
Meg hopped off the bed and tugged on her clothes, then threw Bill’s clothes at him. “From this point on, your body is a sex machine that’ll just keep on going. Kind of like having natural Viagra.”
He scoffed and tugged on his clothes. “O-kay. I’m not sure what you’re getting at, but whatever.”
Meg grinned and led him out of the bedroom and into the living room. “You will. Oh, boy, will you ever. Now say goodbye and go back to the park. Oh, and just in case, you won’t remember me or what we did today. Is that clear?”
Bill frowned, his mind fighting against what she’d told him and what he knew to be real. A second later, however, his brow smoothed and he hurried off the bed, then rushed toward the front door. Meg followed him and watched him jog toward the park.
“Now to find out where Chance dashed off to.” Actually, the better question was not where he’d gone but why he’d left so quickly. She had to assume that finding the answer to the first question would give her the answer to the second.
Meg showered and changed into jeans and a T-shirt. Next, she hurried to her guest room that doubled as a witch’s laboratory and checked her stash of spices, herbs, animal parts and assorted other items every witch tried to keep on hand. Luckily, she had all the necessary ingredients for the finding spell and she stirred them into her Crock-Pot. Within minutes she’d brought the tangy mixture to a boil.
While most people assumed witches used cauldrons, Meg had always found a Crock-Pot to be handier. Besides, Crock-Pots were much better for making soups and stews. Of course, she made sure to wash the pot carefully after using it for spells, but sometimes the remnants of a magical concoction made the recipe better.
Dropping a pinch of an anteater’s tongue into the bubbling mix, she chanted the incantation and peered into the orange-colored liquid. A minute later, she had her answer.
“Sheesh, I should’ve guessed he’d go there after he’d gone home to change. But at least I know for sure now.” Sliding her license into her back pocket, Meg made it to her car and sped toward Milledgeville and the nearest hospital.
By the time she found a spot in the hospital’s parking lot she was convinced. Chance must have received an emergency call during her time with Bill. Why else would he have had rushed off? But if so, would he have taken the time to go home, shower and change?
She liked the idea that an emergency had made him leave and fought hard to hold on to the reason. But she couldn’t push the doubts away. What if he hadn’t left because he’d had to? What if he’d disliked what he’d seen? Could he have found her unattractive? She shook off the ridiculous idea and forged ahead. No, she’d seen his arousal. The only reasonable explanation was an emergency call. She had to stop worrying, find him and then he’d tell her she was right.
Meg smiled at the doctors and nurses she passed in the lobby, then cut in front of several people waiting at the reception desk.
“Hey!”
Complaints assaulted her from behind, demanding that she take her place at the end of the line. Instead, she held up one finger at the pretty brunette receptionist who halted her speech about breaking the rules and turned to face the other people. Saying a quick hex, she gave everyone the biggest smile she could and hoped the spell could handle the large group.
“I am so sorry, and normally I wouldn’t think of cutting in line, but I have a real emergency.” She nodded her head, helping the people to agree with her. “I’m sure you all understand. Right?”
They echoed her nod, matching her smile, and she pivoted back to the receptionist. Meg read the nametag hanging precariously from the uniform stretched as far as it could go over the girl’s ample bosom and leaned on the counter. “Shelly—that’s such a pretty name—can you tell me where I can find Dr. Chance Dannigan?” She would’ve sworn the young woman sighed at the mention of Chance’s name, and she couldn’t blame her.
“Oh, Chance.” She sang the name. “I mean, Dr. Dannigan isn’t on duty today.”
“Really? But I’m sure he’s here.” Too bad Meg couldn’t tell her why she was so certain.
“You’re right.” Shelly sighed. “He’s not on duty, but he’s here anyway. Isn’t he the best doctor ever?”
“Yep. The best ever.” Why would he want to work when he could’ve stayed with her? “Great. So can you tell me where I can find him? Maybe in his office?”
Sweet Shelly transformed into Sergeant Shelly, ready to defend Dr. Dannigan against all intruders—especially female intruders. “Why do you need to see him?” Her voice dripped ice.
Meg thought about using a spell, then decided to try a less magical method of persuasion. “Well, you see, I have a date with him tonight.”
The shock on Shelly’s face was comical, but Meg managed to keep from grinning.
“You have a date with Chance?”
The astonishment in Shelly’s tone made Meg wish she had laughed. Did the little snit think she wasn’t good enough for the wonderful Dr. Dannigan? But she had to stick to the plan. “Yes, I do. Unfortunately, I have to cancel.”
“You’re kidding!” Shelly’s voice rang out, but the girl didn’t notice everyone staring at her.
Meg leaned closer, keeping her voice low in hopes of drawing less attention. “Nope. Not kidding. So could you tell me where to find him?”
Shelly started to object, then changed her mind. “Well, I’m not supposed to give out that kind of information, but you can usually find him on his days off in the Wesley Ward.”
“The Wesley Ward?”
“It’s the facility located at the back of the hospital. Wesley Ward provides senior care.”
“Oh.” Obviously Chance was checking on some of his older patients. They were probably long-time patients of Dr. Treadwell’s and the first ones who would meet the new doctor. “Thanks, Shelly, you’ve been a great help.”
Shelly’s face lit up as she pointed toward the double doors leading toward the back of the hospital. “You’re very welcome. If you’ll go through those doors and keep going straight, you’ll find the breezeway leading into Wesley’s main hall.”
“Thanks again.” Meg was halfway to the doors when Shelly called to her.
“Miss? Would you please tell Chance—” Shelly blushed, “—I mean, Dr. Dannigan that I’m available tonight? You know, in case he still needs a date.”
“You bet.” Uh-huh. I’ll do that right after I run naked through the streets. Not. Meg waved to Shelly, then put her back to the young woman and pushed through the doors. “Talk about nerve,” she mumbled.
The hallway was like any other hallway in a hospital until she barreled through another set of double doors and in
to the sunlit lobby of the Wesley Ward. Meg slammed to a stop, narrowly missing an elderly man moving at a remarkable speed toward the large bright room on the right. Luscious greenery covered the cheery lobby dotted with colorful couches and chairs. A large reception desk fielded by an older woman dominated the far wall while senior citizens of all ethnicities and sizes entered and exited along with helpful smiling staff. Meg couldn’t help but think that she’d be lucky to spend her final days in a place like Wesley Ward.
“Hi there. I’m Mildred.” An older woman behind the reception desk waved at her, her reddened cheeks adding to the spirited gleam in her eyes. Salon manufactured red hair shot up in spikes. “May I help you?”
An older gentleman with sparse hair and covered with age spots wiggled his fingers at Meg and winked at her. “Hey there, cutie. Did you come to visit me?”
“Mr. Honeycutt, you watch your manners and leave the young lady alone.” The woman shooed the spry old man away, then gestured Meg closer. “Now. What can I help you with? Are you here to visit one of our guests?”
Meg took an instant liking to Mildred. “Actually, I’m looking for Dr. Dannigan.”
A knowing smile filled Mildred’s face with lines that added to her charm. “You and every other young woman. But don’t mind me. If I were twenty years younger, I’d be chasing after him too. Is he expecting you?”
The lie was almost out of Meg’s mouth before she managed to stop it. “No. But I’m a friend of his.”
Mildred’s sharp eyes took her in, her eyebrows lifting just enough to cause Meg to squirm. “I see. Well, I guess it won’t hurt anything if you pop in on him. He’s visiting…” She tilted her head, her suspicion even more obvious than before. “But as his friend, you’d know why he’s here, wouldn’t you? Would you like me to call him for you?”
Meg swallowed yet another lie and pointed to the large room labeled Recreation Room where she could see several older people playing cards or relaxing in front of a large television. “No, don’t bother. I’ll find him.”
Mildred chuckled, letting Meg know everything was all right. “I’m sure you will.”
Giving the woman her thanks, Meg moved away and entered the rec room. A large floor-to-ceiling window spilled sunshine across the floor. Card games abounded, although a few of the ladies were intent on turning up the volume on a popular daytime drama to the frustration of the players. Meg scanned the interior and was about to leave when she heard Chance’s deep voice.
“Mrs. Obama, we already agreed. You promised to take your medication if I played a game of Go Fish with you. You aren’t trying to renege on our deal, are you? What would the president think?”
Mrs. Obama? Meg skirted around a table filled with men protesting the last hand of cards, then inched around a corner and into another small room. Chance sat next to an elderly white-haired woman who had her arms crossed and a determined pout on her face.
“Tell you what, Mrs. O. How about I talk the cook into giving you an extra dessert if you take your medicine?” Chance opened the woman’s hand, gently but firmly, and deposited a pill on her palm. “Plus, I won’t mention the dessert to your son. Do we have a deal?”
Mrs. O. grunted, then shrugged and popped the pill into her mouth. She took the paper cup of water Chance offered her and made a tremendous show of swallowing the medicine.
“Great. Thank you.” He patted her hand, then stood and took a nurse’s arm to lead her several feet away from the old woman.
“You’ve got the charm, Dr. Dannigan. I swear I couldn’t get her to take her meds no matter what I tried. Then when Mr. Huston told her she wasn’t the president’s wife, I thought she’d haul off and knock him in the head.”
“I’m sure you did your best, Irene. Mr. Huston, however, needs to learn to mind his own business. After all, what harm does it do to let her believe she’s the first lady?” He chuckled along with the nurse, then took a seat next to a man with silver hair and sagging jaws made even uglier by his huge scowl. “How are you, Lawrence?”
Lawrence jerked his head up as though aware of Chance’s presence for the first time. The scowl dissipated, morphing into a toothless grin. “Aw, you know me, son. I’m a tough old bird.”
“I’ve never seen anyone tougher.” Chance performed a quick examination, checking the elderly gentleman’s pulse, then listening to his chest. “Still, if you ever need anything I want you to tell the nurses. Tell them they can call me any time, night or day. Would you do that for me?”
Lawrence sat up straighter and waved a hand in the air. “Sure, sure. But I don’t need nothing. I’m a tough old bird.”
Chance laughed and hooked his stethoscope around his neck. “The toughest. Nonetheless, you call if you need anything, got it?”
“Yeah, yeah. I got it. I’m a tough old bird.”
A lump formed in Meg’s throat, caught between a sob and a smile. The brash playboy she’d met at the club was nothing like the caring doctor. Chance’s compassionate treatment of his patients awed her, touching her heart more than she’d have ever expected.
A frail lady, her wrinkled face turned to the floor as she shuffled forward, ambled toward Meg. Once next to Meg, the older woman paused, then lifted her head. Vacant sad eyes, eyes clouded with cataracts met Meg’s.
Meg’s throat closed. The poor thing. She looks lost and alone. “Are you all right, ma’am?”
“Are you my daughter? Are you my Sandy?” Bony hands clutched Meg’s shirt. “I want to go home. Please take me home. I promise I won’t be any trouble.”
Meg inhaled and the flowery scent of the woman’s perfume mixed with the smell of incontinence and cleaning solution. Placing her hand over the woman’s, she slipped her other arm around the tiny waist. “No, I’m sorry, but I’m not Sandy. Here. You look tired. Let’s get you a chair, okay?” Taking it slowly, Meg led the woman to a worn armchair and eased her onto it.
“But I need Sandy.” The lady peered at Meg. “You’re not my Sandy.”
I wish I was. If I was Sandy, I’d make sure you’re okay. “No, I’m not. But how about I give Sandy a call? Would you like me to do that?”
Tears sprang to Meg’s eyes a second after a tear slid down the woman’s face. “Would you?”
“Sure I would. What’s your name?” Meg rummaged through her purse, and found a pencil and paper.
The woman straightened her back, regaining an aura of dignity. “My name is Lucille Cunningham.”
Meg offered her an encouraging smile. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Cunningham. What’s Sandy’s last name? Is she married?”
Panic made the wrinkles in the old lady’s face deepen. “Oh, no. I-I don’t remember.” Another tear slid down her cheek.
Meg shook her head and patted her hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll ask around and find out. Then I’ll call her. Don’t you worry.”
The relief on Mrs. Cunningham’s face broke Meg’s heart. “Oh, thank you, honey.”
Meg stood, then patted her hand again. “I’m glad to help. Take care of yourself.” I’ll call your daughter, all right. I’ll call her and put a spell on her to make her visit her mother more. Trust me, Mrs. C., you’ll hear from Sandy real soon.
Remembering Chance, Meg glanced up just in time to see Lawrence look her way. Uh-oh.
“Who’s she? A new nurse? I don’t need no more nurses fussing around me.”
Chance pivoted in the chair, his dark eyes flashing in surprise. “Meg? What are you doing here?”
“I, uh, came to visit my great uncle and then I met Mrs. Cunningham.” She kept her features neutral although her stomach had flipped over twice at the lie. But she couldn’t tell him she’d come to see him, could she?
Chance paused as though wondering whether to believe her. “I see. What’s your great uncle’s name? I know most of the patients here.”
Meg glanced around the room, thinking Chance had to hear her heart pounding against her chest. “His name is Rupert. Uncle Rupert Stanley.” She had to fight the u
rge to check to see if her nose had grown an inch.
“Stanley? I don’t know any patient named Stanley.” Chance rose and closed the distance between them. Taking her hand, he led her toward the door and into the lobby, then took her other hand in his.
“Um, he’s new here. I, uh, just admitted him yesterday.” Meg tugged, trying to free her hands, but he held on. Could he feel her sweaty palms?
“Funny. I don’t remember seeing his name on the list of new patients.”
“Yeah, that is strange. But you know how slow hospital bureaucracy is.” She yanked her hands out of his, almost stumbling backward in the effort. “Well, anyway, I guess we’re even, right?”
Chance’s eyes darkened, his lips parting to tempt her, then he tipped his head. “Yeah. We’re even.”
They stood, each regarding the other and waiting for the other to speak. Meg’s pulse thundered in her ears, and she fought against the urge to plant a kiss on his lips. Could she find another reason to stay? Maybe she should invite him to get coffee?
She started to ask just as Chance took the plunge. “How about we meet tonight to discuss the competition? Maybe at The Sundowner?”
She couldn’t think of what they needed to discuss—especially since talking about the competition was the last thing she wanted to do with him—but she wasn’t about to miss an opportunity to see him. Shrugging, she pretended a nonchalance she didn’t feel. “Sure. Why not? See you around eight?”
“I’ll be there.”
For an exciting moment, Meg thought he would go in for a kiss she so desperately wanted. Then he stepped away, bursting the bubble of anticipation. Her stomach made another awful lurch as she watched him reenter the rec room.
Meg sighed, more disappointed than she’d thought possible. She took a few steps toward the rec room, then catching Mildred studying her, she hurried out the double doors, already planning which outfit to wear for their “date”.
