So was he. They’d trotted past Lily and the fireman and the rest of the clan to arrive laughing and out of breath. “I am seriously going to need to work on my endurance if we’re going to keep this up.”
The first tune played in earnest. A classic from his mother’s era, the song was just fast enough to want to tap your toes and just slow enough not to be off-putting. That was a good thing. The bad thing was that he wished he’d paid more attention to the cotillion dance lessons his parents had thrust upon him in his teens.
Except for Cole, who hadn’t broken a sweat on the jaunt up the street, the others arrived to join them, laughing and breathing hard. Apparently he wasn’t the only one with a sedentary job.
“What we need,” Rose looked around, “is some refreshments.”
“Good idea,” Callie agreed, zeroing in on a booth across the way. “There.” Like a parade, each of the Hart grandchildren and guests fell into step behind the high school coach.
A popular top forty song came on and Alan could see Cindy’s toe tapping as she swallowed a long gulp of water. Within moments they’d lost Callie and Rose to the dance floor.
“This band is pretty good. I hope they’ll all be like this.” Poppy bobbed her head to the rhythmic beat.
“I wonder if they do weddings?” Lily asked. So far, with a little help from her sisters, she’d managed to organize and plan what was looking to be the perfect summer wedding, but what to do about music was still in the undecided column and they were running out of time.
A big beefy hand appeared in front of the younger sister. “May I have this dance?”
Poppy’s gaze followed the edge of his fingertips up to his neck stopping at a wide smile. “Peyton! I would love to.” The two disappeared into the crowd on the temporary wooden dance floor.
“Are you going to let your buddy show you up?” Lily turned to her fireman.
Extending his elbow to her, he flashed a smile that outshone his buddy. “Not on your life.”
The sound of a finger tapped on the public announcement system. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are going to be starting this evening out with a little dance off. Grab a number and your partner and join us on the floor.”
The way Cindy’s face lit up, he knew she was antsy to join her sisters and cousin on the dance floor. Two left feet be damned, he wasn’t about to disappoint her. “Shall we?”
That smile he loved so much appeared, making any impending embarrassment worth it. “Absolutely.”
They had managed a sloppy rendition of the twist, and absolutely hilarious attempts at the chicken dance. He just prayed nobody had a camera pointed at him. That was followed by the monster mash. Until a few minutes ago, he didn’t even realize there was a dance that went with the song. But the pièce de résistance had to be whatever line dance played that required moving forward, backward, sidestep, sidestep, spinning left, spinning right and had enough people laughing and tripping over each other that the judges had been tapping away, decreasing the number of contestants.
Alan had never been happier to hear a slow-moving tune that warranted putting his hands on Cindy without getting his face slapped, and a chance to catch his breath. What he hadn’t bargained for was how good it would feel to have the small of her back under his fingertips.
“I didn’t think they were ever going to slow down.” Cindy took in a slow deep breath and let it out just as slowly.
“I know what you mean.”
A couple on his right bumped into them, and Alan shifted left. Another couple looked to be almost asleep on their feet, when Alan pulled Cindy in more tightly barely avoiding a collision when the tired duo swayed into their dance space.
Startled blue eyes stared up at him.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, about to loosen his hold when the same couple shifted and bounced into Cindy.
This time his dance partner’s mouth popped open wide as her hand clutched at his shoulder.
Prepared to spin her away, he made one critical mistake. The same mistake every hero made in every cheap romance novel he’d ever read. He looked into those still startled blue eyes and let his gaze fall to luscious pink lips. Sucking in a deep breath, he’d just about won the battle of good angel bad angel, prepared to do the chivalrous thing and step back when perfectly straight white teeth nibbled on that pretty pink lower lip.
He was officially in over his head. Leaning forward, he kept his gaze locked on hers, searching for any sign that he was about to get his face slapped. Her mouth snapped shut and startled eyes grew dark and intense. She wasn’t going to stop him and he had never been so damn glad about anything in his life.
The sweet soft kiss lasted longer than it should have, but not nearly as long as he would have liked. A loud throat cleared from either side of him and he realized that he’d been flanked by Cole and his buddy. Both staring daggers at him.
“Should I apologize,” he spoke softly.
Cindy shook her head. “Only if you don’t do it again.” She turned her head left then right. “Perhaps somewhere more private next time.”
The corners of his mouth pulled high against his cheeks and he was pretty sure there was a serious possibility his face might split wide open. There were several truths in this world. Life, death, taxes, bestseller lists, and for better or worse, he was seriously falling for one Hyacinth Nelson.
Chapter Eleven
The evening country dance and the chance to laugh with and have a legitimate excuse to hold Cindy had ended way too early for Alan. When they’d arrived at Hart house to pick up the kittens, the porch was still clamoring with people playing cards. Much to his chagrin, talking in private with Cindy would not happen. Any hope of getting a few minutes alone with her after he’d collected the kittens had been shot to hell when it was determined both Thelma and Louise had had a little bit too much to drink. Of course he’d known that the second he’d walked past the Merry Widow’s table and Thelma pinched his rear. Louise’s immediate shout of “You go, girl!” had cemented his, and everyone else’s conclusions. Somehow Cindy wound up designated chauffeur.
With the kittens hungry and mewling loudly in the car, he along with Frick and Frack were the first to be dropped off. For the first time, the cabin looked unusually small. Adrenaline still high from having Cindy in his arms, even if it was on a public dancefloor, and the taste of her lips lingering on his mouth, there had been little point in going to bed. Instead, he spent hours in his chair, fingers on the keyboard, pretending to write. Tired of typing and deleting only to find himself still staring at blank pages, and after both kittens had curled up for the night, Alan finally gave up any pretense of work and crawled into bed. The next few hours were spent tossing and turning in pursuit of sleep.
By the time the sun rose, he wasn’t sure that he’d gotten more than a few minutes of restless sleep. What he was sure of was that he’d spent most of the night, both awake and in sleep, with images of Cindy Nelson playing on a never ending loop. How had she managed to get so deep under his skin in such a short amount of time?
Hovering over the coffee maker, dark roast wasn’t the only thing percolating this morning. New ideas were dancing around in his head faster than he could collect and record them. Pouring the coffee, scooping the sugar, retrieving milk from the refrigerator, scene after scene played out before him. The only problem being, the scenes had nothing to do with his current work in progress. The best he could come up with was that after hours of trying to make his fingers cooperate with the keyboard, and dreaming of Cindy, his subconscious must have put the two together and come up with a humdinger of a premise for a cozy mystery. He could picture it all so very clearly. The amateur sleuth, a country veterinarian, and her array of forest animals would stumble upon dead bodies all over her country mountain. And of course, her menagerie of forest friends would help solve the crimes. The whole concept seemed to be a warped rendition of a children’s fairytale and an animated movie with a twist of classic TV and its talking horse.
Since
the only thing he’d drank last night was lemonade, he couldn’t even blame the odd river of current ideas on a hangover. But the even crazier thing was how sure he felt that he could make this lighter, more humorous storytelling work. Coffee mug in hand and the jolt of caffeine from his first few swallows in place, he needed to record the details of all the scenes racing around while they were still fresh in his mind. And of course, file them for another day. The same mind that was smart enough to recognize the only change in his life, the only difference between mental block and a river of ideas, had been the addition of Cindy in his world.
Refilling his mug and making his way over to the table, Alan took a seat and placed his hands on the keyboard. Not till Frick, or was it Frack, had curled up against his arm did he realize he’d only seen one kitten this morning. That was odd. The two were inseparable. And now that he thought about it, neither of the kittens had taken the time to curl up near his head last night. At the time he’d thought it due to his restless movements, but now he wasn’t so sure. Could the other kitten have gotten out? He looked quickly at the closed front door and then scanned the windows, searching for any crack or crevice large enough for a small cat to climb up to and sneak out of.
“Where are you?” he mumbled mostly to himself, yet still hoping the kitten would come out when called. The other fellow popped up and stretching his chin, focused on him and let out an elongated meow. If Alan didn’t know better, he’d swear the kitten was complaining what had taken him so long to look for his brother.
As if aware someone was looking for him, the missing kitty appeared in the hall. His steps slow and strained and after only taking a few, he collapsed on the floor. Not the cute way when they fell over sleeping, but like a dying man in the desert only a few feet from the life saving oasis. Alan’s heart took off at rapid clip to match the speed with which he raced down the tiny hallway. Scooping the kitten up, panic nipped at his already fast ticking heart. The poor thing’s eyes were glazed and droopy and Alan didn’t need to be a veterinarian to know something was definitely very wrong.
Glancing up at the clock, he wondered just how early did country vets start their day? Not that he had much of a choice, working or not, he had to call Cindy. Now.
Cell phone in hand, every ring seemed to take an eternity. How he hated the idea of waking her up, but the kitten needed her.
“Hello.” Her voice came across bright and chipper and not showing any signs of losing sleep the way he had. Too bad.
“Hi. Listen we have a new kitten problem.”
“You found another one!” Her voice rose several octaves.
“No.” His gaze shot to the front porch. At least he didn’t think any more had appeared. “One of these guys is sick. I’m afraid very sick.”
“What happened?” Seriousness crept instantly into her tone.
Snuggling the little guy against his chest, he scratched behind the kitten’s ear with his thumb. “He can barely walk. On his way to me or the water bowl, not sure which, he just collapsed. He seems to be smacking his lips as though he’s hungry or—”
“Thirsty,” she cut him off.
“Yeah, Can you come and see?”
“I can, but I think it might be better if I meet you at the clinic. Do you think you can find it?”
“Yes.” Thankfully on her trek to finalize details for the sidewalk festival, she’d taken the time to point out the clinic up the hill from Main Street. He remembered the location because the famed Floyd’s barbershop anchored the corner spot.
“Any other symptoms? Sneezing, runny nose. Anything like that?”
“His eyes are closed, but I think they’re sort of oozing.”
“Good. Very good. If it’s his kidneys, we’re in trouble. See you shortly!”
As much as he now realized he needed Cindy, this little guy needed her more. Suddenly the thought of losing either one of them stabbed sharply at his chest. Apparently he’d fallen head over heels for all three of them.
***
As fast as she could, Cindy threw on a pair of jeans and made a beeline out the door. From the description of symptoms Alan had given her, the first thing that came to mind was a bad kidney. At this age, that would mean certain death for Frick or Frack. She hated losing an animal—any animal—but these guys had found a special place in her heart. Even in her dreams. This morning she’d woken with images of herself, Alan, and two playful kitties romping down Main Street. Of course the idea of romping in town with two cats was ridiculous, but wasn’t that what dreams were for, impractical perfection.
Already waiting for her at the front door, Alan stood cradling a blanket smothered kitten. The totally distraught look in his eyes gave her heart a squeeze. She was going to have to find something else to call him besides a seriously nice guy. But he was seriously nice and she seriously wished he wasn’t going to be leaving soon.
Keys in hand, she paused a moment and pulled back the blanket to better see the kitten’s face. She was greeted by a sneeze. Another good sign. “Bless you.”
“He’s been doing that the entire car ride.”
Cindy bobbed her head. “That’s actually a good thing. It sounds like he’s probably got some kind of an upper respiratory infection. Let’s get this guy inside for a closer look.
“Thank you.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” The smile that spread across his face did little to ease the concern in his eyes, but it did more to lift her mood than all the sunrises on the lake.
“So if all he has is a bad cold, we’re doing good?” Alan asked.
Without slowing her pace, she dropped her purse and keys on the counter and proceeded to the closest exam room. Waving Alan inside, she explained. “If he can’t smell, he won’t eat or drink which makes dehydration a concern.”
“But he was fine yesterday so he couldn’t have gone without that much water, right?”
“His size is an issue. Let’s see what we have.” The first thing she did was to pinch the skin on the back of his neck and tried not to sigh. Rather than fall flat the way it should have, it remained taught in place. However long he’d gone without water, had been too long.
“What was that for?”
“Standard test for dehydration.”
“And?”
“I’m going to have to give him an IV to re-hydrate.”
Alan winced. “I should’ve paid more attention.”
She shook her head at him. “You noticed first thing this morning. That was good. I am a veterinarian and I did not notice anything wrong with him yesterday either.”
“He does look miserable.” Alan ran his thumb along the back of the kitten’s neck. From the pained look on his face, he actually looked more miserable than the poor kitten.
Quickly she went through the paces of checking the little guy’s ears, nose, throat, and eyes, the same as any doctor would for any patient. It didn’t take long for her diagnosis of feline coryza to be confirmed. “This little boy has a nasty respiratory infection.”
“Okay.” He nodded, still gently rubbing the top of the kitten’s head. “Now what?”
“Now we treat him with antibiotics. Also, he’s going to need to be re-hydrated. I’ll set him up now with an IV and monitor him closely for the next few hours. Our biggest concern is that this does not become pneumonia. As you can imagine, little guys like this have a hard time fighting off pneumonia.”
Alan swallowed hard and nodded. “But he should be okay?”
Oh, how she hated making promises. Long ago, she’d learned the hard way that things could take an unexpected turn for the worse at the drop of a hat. “Odds are in our favor. I’m very optimistic.”
“That will have to do.” He forced a smile.
“You should probably go home and check on the other kitty.”
Alan snapped his fingers. “I forgot, the kitten is in his box in the backseat. I didn’t know how long I’d be here and I didn’t want to leave him alone.”
“In that case, you mig
ht as will bring him in so I can check him out and make sure he’s okay.”
It only took a few minutes for Alan to be standing in front of her again holding up the other half of Frick and Frack.
“So far,” Cindy finished her examination of the second kitty, “this fellow shows no signs of having the same thing as his brother.”
A broad smile chased away a deep sigh of relief. “Good.”
“Why don’t you head home. You’ll have to disinfect the house because the virus stays live for at least eighteen hours. I’ll want to keep this guy overnight, but I’ll let you know how he’s responding.”
Alan’s gaze drifted from her over to where the kitten was laying quietly. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather stick around. At least for a little while.”
All set to tell him that wasn’t necessary, she realized she liked the idea of having his company. She was worried about the kitten too. “All right.”
“Did you have time for breakfast this morning?”
“I’ll grab a breakfast burrito out of the freezer after I’m done with this guy. You’re welcome to grab one if you’re hungry.”
“I’m thinking you’re going to need more sustenance then a breakfast burrito to get through the rest of today.” He put the healthy kitty back in the box. “How about I run across the street to the diner and bring us back some real breakfast? Something that will stick to your ribs.”
She hadn’t heard that expression in ages, but the silent rumble in her stomach seemed to agree he had a good idea. Looking up at the clock, she figured she might have enough time to swallow a mouthful or two before her first appointment. “Make mine a western omelet with a side of bacon, and whole-grain toast with lots of extra butter. Be sure to tell Mabel it’s for me. She’ll get it right.”
“Not worried about cholesterol, I gather.” He raised one eyebrow at her.
“Try telling that one to my sister Lily. The Paris trained baker.”
“Good point.” He chuckled. “I’ll be back shortly.”
Hyacinth Page 9
