CHAPTER ONE
“WHAT do you say you run away with me this weekend?” Sebastian Lancaster asked Sara two days later as she straightened his bedsheets during her last patient round before her shift-change report. “I know this great little place for dancing. I could show you a few steps that will make your head spin.”
Sara smiled at her eighty-five-year-old patient who relied on a walker and wheezed with every breath, thanks to his years of habitual smoking. No doubt the only head that would spin with any sudden move would be his.
“No can do,” she said cheerfully, already anticipating her upcoming weekend away from the daily grind of hospitals, patients and housework. “I already have plans.”
“No problem.” He coughed. “What is it they say? Plans are made to be broken.”
“I think you’re referring to rules, not plans,” she corrected.
He waved a wrinkled, age-spotted hand. “Same difference. It’s been ages since I’ve tangoed and if I’m not mistaken, you’d be good at it. Got the legs for it.”
Knowing the elderly gentleman couldn’t see past his elbow, she let his comment about her legs slide. “I’ll bet you were quite the Fred Astaire in your day,” she commented, giving the top blanket a final pat.
“Oh, I was. My wife and I could have outshone these young whippersnappers on those celebrity dance shows. So whaddya say? Wanna spring me from this joint so we can take a spin?”
She laughed at his suitably hopeful expression, although they both knew she couldn’t fulfill his request. Between his emphysema and current bout of pneumonia, he was struggling to handle basic activities, much less add a strenuous activity like dancing. However, his physical limitations didn’t stop this perpetual flirt from practicing his pickup lines. Sara guessed his wife must have been adept at keeping his behavior in check, or else she’d turned a blind eye to his Romeo attitude.
“Sorry, but I’m already running away this weekend,” she told him, glancing at the drip rate of his IV. “With my husband, who just happens to be your doctor.”
He nodded matter-of-factly, as if not particularly disappointed by his failure. “Shoulda known. The pretty ones are always taken. Must say, though …” he stopped to cough “… that if Doc had the good sense to pick you out of the eligible women, then he’s got a good head on his shoulders.”
“I like to think so,” she said lightly, aware that her relationship with Cole had endured some dark days. However, in spite of the usual differences of opinion between people of diverse backgrounds and ideas, in spite of his initial reluctance to commit and in spite of her miscarriage nine months ago, life had been good.
“You two just going away for nothing better to do or for something special?”
“It’s our three-year anniversary,” she replied. “Actually, we still have a few weeks before the actual date, but this was the only weekend we could both get away.”
“Ah, then you’re still newlyweds. I’ll bet you’re eager to have your second honeymoon, even if it wasn’t that long ago since your first, eh?” He cackled at his joke before ending on a cough.
Sara smiled. “It’s always great to get away, honeymoon or not.”
She’d been looking forward to this weekend for a month now and could hardly wait. Cole, on the other hand, had been preoccupied the last few days, which had been somewhat surprising because he’d been as eager to stay in the haunted historic hotel as she was.
“Too much to do before I can leave with an easy conscience,” he’d said when she’d asked.
While that was probably true—as a hospitalist, he’d put in long hours to ensure the doctors covering his patients would find everything in order while he was gone—she had to wonder if something else wasn’t on his mind. Still, she was confident that once they shook the dust of Nolan Heights off their feet, he’d leave those worries behind. And if distance didn’t help, then the skimpy black lace negligee in her suitcase would.
“Well, go and have a good time,” Sebastian said. “If he takes you dancing, dance a slow one for me.” He winked one rheumy brown eye.
“I will,” she promised. “When I come back to work on Monday, if you’re still here, I’ll tell you all about it.”
“Do that,” he said before he closed his eyes, clearly spent from their short conversation.
Sara strode out of the room, her soft soles silent on the linoleum. She’d begun to chart her final notes for her patients when another nurse, Millie Brennan, joined her.
“How’s Mr. Lancaster this afternoon?”
Sara smiled at the twenty-six-year-old, somewhat jealous of her strawberry blond tresses when her own short hair was unremarkably brown. The only plus was that Sara’s curls were natural whereas Millie’s came from a bottle.
“As sassy as ever. Given his medical condition, it’s amazing how he can still flirt with us.”
“Wait until he feels better,” Millie said darkly. “Then he’ll grab and pinch. When he does, it’s a sign he’s ready to go back to his assisted living home.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” Sara said.
“So,” Millie said in an obvious prelude to a change of subject, “are you packed and ready to go tomorrow?”
Sara smiled. “Almost. I just have to throw a few last-minute things into my bag and I’m ready. Cole, on the other hand, hasn’t started. I’m going to work on his suitcase as soon as I get home.”
Millie grinned. “Don’t forget to pack a swimsuit. And that teddy we bought a few weeks ago.”
“Those were the first things in the case,” Sara answered, already looking forward to modeling the lacy negligee under her husband’s admiring gaze. While most people thought they were going to enjoy ski slopes and mountain hikes, Sara had planned a far more private itinerary—an itinerary that focused only on the two of them.
“When are you leaving?” Millie asked.
“Our flight leaves early tomorrow morning. We’d thought about staying the night at one of the airport hotels, but it depends on Cole. You know how he is.” Sara added, “He can’t leave if he doesn’t have every i dotted when it comes to his patients.” She was convinced that was why everyone thought so highly of her husband—he didn’t cut corners for convenience’s sake.
She sighed. “Sometimes, his attention to detail is rather frustrating, especially when it interferes with our plans.”
“Yeah, but you love him anyway.”
Sara had half fallen in love with him the first day she’d met him, when he’d waltzed onto her floor as a first-year family medicine resident. She’d been suffering her own new-job jitters and he’d taken pity on her when she’d knocked a suture tray off the counter in obvious nervousness. The cup of coffee he’d subsequently bought her and the pep talk he’d delivered had marked the beginning of their
