a kid.
“You’re very good, Doc. I’m impressed.”
She blushed at the praise, thinking she’d thoroughly enjoyed her time with the Morgan men.
“He seemed to like me. Quite a bit,” she admitted. “So my third and final strategy was to tell Luke that if he insisted on taking care of all his classmates’ teeth, pretty soon I wouldn’t have anything to do, that he’d ruin my job.”
“That’s perfect,” Joe said. “I appreciate it. More than I can say.”
“He’s a delightful little boy.”
“Yeah, he is.”
“Take good care of him. And call me if there’s anything else I can do,” she offered, wondering if he’d take her up on that, if she’d ever see either one of them again.
Joe Morgan took her hand in both of his. Her entire arm started to tingle in an unsettling way. They stood there, staring at each other. She felt a strange sense of connection with him, something she didn’t want to lose. Which was crazy. She didn’t even know him. She didn’t know anything about him, except that he was too handsome for her own good, she felt a little charge of electricity when he touched her, and he had a great little boy.
Samantha pulled away, because that was how it had to be. She had to look out for herself this time. She had to be smart, safe.
“Thanks, Doc,” he said softly.
“You’re welcome,” she said, fighting this odd urge to beg him to stay.
He turned and walked to the door, was almost gone when she thought of something.
“Joe?”
He turned to face her again. “Yes?”
“I may have convinced Luke to stop practicing dentistry, but he’s absolutely convinced I have magical powers. I’m afraid my little tricks with the coins and things just made it worse. He thinks I’m the tooth fairy.”
Joe considered, then replied, “I’ll take care of it.”
Samantha nodded, wondering what he’d say. That there was no such thing as magic? No wishes coming true? No miracles left in this world?
She hoped not, even though she supposed it was true. But Samantha had seen children who’d stopped believing in magic, who’d been robbed of their illusions, and she didn’t want Luke to be one of them.
Chapter Two
It was much later that evening when Samantha shed her white coat, which she wore to guard her clothes but also for the deep pockets where she stored the tricks of her trade. She took out the glow-in-the-dark toothbrushes, the magic disappearing coins, the fat tongue depressor that turned into a bouquet of flowers and the magic set of teeth that chattered around on tabletops when she wound them up.
Her last patient was long gone, as well as the office staff. There was nothing left to do but go back to the house she’d rented temporarily while she tried out this town, this practice. While she decided whether it was any easier to be here, far away from everyone she’d left behind, everyone she’d lost.
She felt absolutely alone that night, absolutely lost.
She had put the length of the country between her and everyone she knew, everything that was familiar, thinking to start over in a brand-new place. Brand-new house, if she ever got around to finding one. Brand-new practice, if she made up her mind and exercised her option to buy this one. Brand-new what else? she wondered.
Man, came the answer, the image of a certain one coming into her head.
Brand-new kid? She knew better. She did.
So she swiveled around in her chair to face the window of the office that she’d occupied for all of six weeks now and that was starting to feel familiar, thanks to all of the things she’d brought. Her gaze eventually landed on the small glass cabinet in the corner. It had small framed drawings, porcelain figurines, carvings, even a sculpture her father had made, all of his favorite image, the tooth fairy. They always made her smile, always made her patients smile.
It was mostly her father’s collection, one of his most prized possessions. He’d willed them to her, and now she displayed some of them in her office. It added an air of magic to the place, which her father had taught her to use to help get past the fear some children had of dentists.
Little children should never be afraid, her father always said.
She closed her eyes and thought, But I’m afraid, Daddy. I’m so afraid.
Afraid that she would always feel this bad, this sad and alone, this lost, and here were no little magic tricks to make it better. No fairy dust raining down on her.
Which made her think of Luke and Joe. They seemed afraid, too. Sad and lost and hurting. Maybe that was why she found herself so drawn to them, why she felt so bereft without them.
She’d been happy today, just for a little bit. Happy with Luke and Joe. She’d felt what seemed to be a little spark of pure magic, and it had frightened her.
So she had to remember all that she’d lost and the reason she had to stay away from them. It shouldn’t be that hard to remember, especially not here. There was a spot at the end of the credenza, just to the right by the droopy-looking potted fern she’d lugged all the way from Seattle, a spot where she’d always kept a favorite photograph of the girls.
Maybe it had been a mistake to leave the photos behind. She’d debated that point with herself for what seemed like hours, and in the end, she’d left the photos, along with a big chunk of her heart.
Samantha knew she had to safeguard that battered heart of hers now. She had to be careful and cautious and use her head.
No men, she told herself even more sternly. Especially men with kids. If she’d learned anything else in the past four years, surely she’d learned that. No men and, please, God, no more falling in love with kids who didn’t belong to her.
Dr. Carter let Luke keep the quarter and the spider ring. Best of all, she gave him a glow-in-the-dark toothbrush. When Joe brought him home, Luke hid in the closet with the toothbrush all evening watching it glow. He swore the toothbrush was magic, that Dr. Carter was magic and that she was really the tooth fairy in disguise.
Dani wailed off and on all night after they picked her up from late-stay at school. Because she didn’t get to see the tooth fairy, because she still hadn’t lost a tooth and because she hadn’t gotten a quarter, a spider ring or a glow-in-the-dark toothbrush.
Once he’d finally gotten them into bed, Joe put a hand to the back of his neck and tried to work out the tension in the muscles there. Somewhere he had to find another glow-in-the-dark toothbrush—a pink one, because that was Dani’s favorite color. And he had to find a way to talk his daughter out of a trip to the magic dentist, because he wasn’t sure if he could stand there and let Samantha Carter pull another silk scarf from his shirt pocket.
He wondered what kind of magic she used to make that little jolt of awareness shoot through him when her fingertips flitted across his chest for all of half a second. Something from her bag of tricks? He wanted to ask but didn’t think it would be wise for him to see her again.
Because he didn’t believe in magic, yet he was crazy enough to think he’d seen a shooting star on the ceiling in her office today. Joe had almost asked her about the special paint. But she’d think he was nuts, that it was no wonder his son pulled little girls’ teeth on the playground and kept them in a jelly jar in the top of his closet.
Joe shook his head and indulged in the chance to swear out loud, because the kids were asleep.
He was going to stay far, far away from Samantha Carter.
Wandering through the house, he picked up things here and there. Dani’s shoes and dirty socks that made a trail from the hallway to the living room. As usual she’d kicked