Magic In A Jelly Jar. Sally Hayes Tyler

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      Samantha froze, like a mischievous kid caught red-handed, as Joe Morgan stood there, staring at her. He didn’t so much as blink, didn’t say anything. He looked bewildered at first, then impossibly stern.

      “I…I’m so sorry,” she stammered, as heat flooded her cheeks. She explained as best she could. “Force of habit.”

      “Habit?” the striking dark-haired man said.

      She nodded and tried not to stumble over her words. “I do little tricks. To make the children smile. And…”

      It had been sheer impulse. She’d seen him sitting there looking sad, so she’d done the first thing that popped into her head—pull a silk scarf from his shirt pocket. Except he was no scared little boy. He was a man. A very attractive man. And she’d just made a fool of herself.

      “You looked…troubled,” she said, wondering if he’d felt anything at all when she touched him. She certainly had. Something like a little jolt of static electricity, only better. Something like magic, except Samantha wasn’t sure she believed in magic anymore. She suddenly felt foolish for all the years she had believed. It seemed so naive now.

      “It’s been a difficult day,” he said.

      “I’m sorry,” she said, thinking she’d like to know about his day, like to know if his had truly been nearly as bad as hers and whether he had any idea how to fix it. Maybe he could tell her how to fix hers, how to fix everything. He looked like a man who fixed things.

      Samantha stared at him, at long legs encased in well-worn jeans, snug in all the right places, cowboy boots splattered with dried mud, but a clean shirt, the sleeves rolled up nearly to his elbows. He had the kind of all-over tan worn by a man who worked outside year-round, and the lean corded muscles in his arms indicated he did something physical and likely did it well.

      He dusted off his jeans—maybe because he’d caught her staring—and sawdust went flying.

      “Sorry. I came straight from work,” he said. “I’m a mess by this time of day.”

      “No problem,” she assured him, fingering the shapeless white coat she wore. “I get messy, too. Which is why I live in these.”

      She thought about taking off the ugly white coat, but decided that might be too obvious, and she’d never been obvious with a man.

      “You must work outside,” she guessed. To her, that was a bold move.

      “Yes. I’m a builder.”

      He said it as if she might find something objectionable in that. She didn’t. He was obviously a strong man who was good with his hands, and he was gorgeous, in a rough-and-tumble sort of way. What was there for any woman to object to?

      Samantha’s only problem was that she’d lost all track of the conversation and forgotten the reason he was here. His son. That was it. Did that mean he had a wife, too?

      She checked as discreetly as possible and saw no ring on his left hand. Women did that these days, she’d found. Regularly. For some women it was an automatic action. Check the hand. No ring? No telltale pale band of skin on the ring finger? He wasn’t shy about giving out his home phone number? Didn’t find excuses why you shouldn’t call him at home? He was likely single.

      Samantha hadn’t put any of those tactics into practice—until now—but she’d learned all the signs that indicated a married man. Just in case she was ever interested enough to check out a man.

      So far, she hadn’t been. She’d hardly met any men at all since she’d been here. At the dentist’s office it was almost all mothers and children, which made this man even more intriguing.

      Oh, jeez, Samantha admitted, he’d be intriguing under any circumstances, and she was staring quite rudely, probably making a fool of herself. Not that she’d ever take this any farther than a mild flirtation—just for practice. She was sadly out of practice, after all. It showed in everything she’d said and done to him. She could relate to seven-year-olds better than grown men. And he had a seven-year-old. An adorable one, which made him strictly off-limits, him and his kid.

      “Mr. Morgan—”

      “Joe,” he cut in.

      “Joe.” She liked the sound of his name on her lips. “About Luke—what can I do for him? And for you?”

      Looking wary again, Joe just stared at her, then finally started to talk. “Luke has been behaving strangely lately.”

      “You can tell me,” she encouraged because this seemed to be so difficult for him.

      “It’s…I don’t understand it. He’s obsessed with teeth. Yesterday, on the playground at school, he tried to pull out a little girl’s tooth. Today in the cafeteria, he had a flashlight and his hand inside a little boy’s mouth…”

      “Oh.” Samantha considered for a minute. “Does he by any chance go to St. Mark’s?”

      “Yes. Why?”

      She’d definitely embarrassed him now, and she felt bad.

      “I’ve been getting some calls from St. Mark’s. I think I saw his patient, Jenny, yesterday. I’ve been wondering about my competitor, actually.”

      “The little girl’s all right, isn’t she? Please tell me Luke didn’t do any damage.”

      Samantha wanted to reassure him, felt an almost overwhelming urge to touch him. With the kids, she was generous with her smiles, her laughter, the touch of her hand on a shoulder or a big hug. But this was a man, she reminded herself again. And she’d already made a fool of herself with her little bag of tricks.

      “Jenny’s fine.” She managed to keep her hands to herself and rushed on, “She would have lost the tooth in a few days, anyway.”

      “Thank goodness for that,” he said.

      “So, what else is Luke doing?”

      “He’s so caught up in this whole tooth thing. At first I thought it was money. Luke loves money. But after he lost his first tooth and put it under his pillow, the…uh…”

      “The tooth fairy came to visit?” she suggested.

      “Yes, and he got his money. Then he decided he’d rather have the tooth back. He came and asked if he could buy it back.”

      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 СКАЧАТЬ