Magic In A Jelly Jar. Sally Tyler Hayes

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      Samantha laughed. “I hope you agreed.”

      “Yes. He put his two dollars under his pillow without complaining at all about the loss of the money, and the next morning, there was his tooth.”

      “Good,” Samantha said. He was willing to play along, for the sake of his son. “So what did he do with the tooth?”

      “He put it in a jelly jar on the shelf in the top of his closet, along with the other three teeth he’s lost. He’s saving them.”

      “For what?”

      Joe shrugged. “I don’t know. He hasn’t said. Do you think you could explain to my son that dentists are the only people allowed to pull teeth?”

      “Of course.”

      “He’s up to something. I don’t know what.”

      “Something to do with baby teeth? And magic? And wishes?”

      Joe nodded.

      Once again she wanted to touch him, to soothe him just a bit, maybe make him smile again. She had a feeling he wasn’t normally such a stern-looking man.

      “What does Luke want?”

      Joe swore so softly she could barely hear it, then added quietly, “I’m afraid to ask.”

      “Something that’s not within your power to give?” she guessed.

      Joe nodded again.

      Samantha couldn’t help but wonder where Mrs. Morgan was right now, and she sensed that was the answer to Luke’s wishes and to his father’s obvious discomfort. She wouldn’t pry any further, because she suspected this man’s pride had taken a beating somewhere along the way. But taking a closer look at his left hand, she now found that strip of paler skin that told her, until recently, he’d worn what she suspected was a wedding ring.

      Poor Luke, she thought. What happened to his mother?

      “I’ll give Luke my standard speech on the importance of taking care of teeth, letting them come out when they’re ready—all that good stuff,” she said. And she’d throw in a few more magic tricks to make Luke smile.

      “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

      And then, because there was nothing left to do, she excused herself to go talk to Luke and left Joe in the peace and quiet of her office.

      She was back fifteen minutes later, having left Luke in the waiting room admiring one of her displays of fairy figurines and not sure she’d been any help at all. Joe Morgan stood with his back to her, his impossibly broad shoulders seeped in tension. She wished there was something she could do to soothe him, too.

      “Hi,” she said, walking in and closing the door behind her.

      He turned around and looked at her, waiting, obviously hoping. She hated disappointing him.

      “I’m sorry. Luke has a mouthful of beautiful absolutely healthy teeth and a whole lot of secrets. I tried my best, but I couldn’t get him to crack.”

      Joe smiled. “Really put on the pressure, did you, Doc?”

      “I tried,” she reassured him. “He’s very bright. He asked me all sorts of questions about baby teeth. How many kids have and when they start to lose them, how long it takes before they’re all gone. He says he has a friend who’s good with numbers who’s going to help him figure everything out. He mentioned something about a formula. I hope we’re talking mathematical and not chemical.”

      Joe laughed. “I’ll lock up his chemistry set.”

      “That would probably be a good idea.”

      “Luke is a schemer. Always has been. He gets an idea in his head, and he doesn’t let go of it. Not for anything.”

      “Which is not necessarily a bad trait.”

      “In an adult. It’s hell in a kid, especially when you’re the one trying to raise him.”

      Samantha shrugged, telling herself not to get drawn in too deeply. She was just here to take care of kids’ teeth. She always got in too deep, always cared too much. Surely she’d learned her lesson by now.

      “I’m sure you’ll figure out what he’s up to. Or he’ll tell you,” she said. “I showed Luke all my instruments and explained to him all the things I use to pull out a tooth safely, and I thought that would do it. But I didn’t like the gleam in his eye. I was afraid he’d be off stealing a pair of pliers or an adjustable wrench from your toolbox and using what I told him to be even more efficient at dentistry than he already is. I hope that wasn’t a mistake.”

      “I’ll lock up my tools, too,” Joe said. “Just in case.”

      “Good. My next idea was to tell him he could be a dentist, but he had to suffer through a ton of schooling and pass all sorts of tests first to be licensed. That may have made some headway with him—the idea that he could be in trouble for practicing dentistry without a license.”

      Joe laughed out loud then. She saw little crinkles at the corners of his dark eyes and his mouth. His shoulders shook and he relaxed, at least for a second. How about that? she mused. She’d made him laugh, really laugh. She felt as good as she did when one of her little tricks won her a genuine smile from 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.

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