DAN STEPPED OFF the elevator on the third floor of Bay Water Medical, silenced his phone and tucked it in the leg pocket on his pants. He’d worked overtime two nights in a row. Then filled in on the day shift. His body wasn’t certain whether to sleep or accept the exhaustion as its new normal.
He hadn’t seen Brooke since their three-game losing streak on the Ping-Pong tables to his dad and Evie, followed by their indisputable victory on the basketball free throw game. Brooke had written their names in bold on the chalkboard standings wall and accepted their award at the trophy ceremony: his-and-hers fuzzy socks, chocolates with Wyatt’s and Mia’s initials and handkerchiefs embroidered with No Ugly Crying.
Brooke and Dan had sampled the chocolates on the drive home. He’d left her with both pairs of fuzzy socks, then grudgingly accepted his hankie and that his night with Brooke was over.
Dan waved to the nurses behind the desk, continued to Room 324 and discovered his first smile. Brooke waved to him outside Earl Powell’s hospital room. She’d texted him earlier to ask if he’d meet her there to talk to Earl about Sherlock.
Dan would’ve met Brooke even if Sherlock and Earl weren’t the topic. He just wanted to see her. He just wanted to be with her. Dan slowed and shoved his hands in his pockets. Otherwise he would’ve reached for Brooke and hugged her as if he’d always greeted her that way.
“Thanks for coming,” Brooke studied him. “You’re tired. You should’ve said no.”
Not likely. And he was less tired now standing there beside her. He opened the hospital-room door and motioned her inside. “I’m good. Let’s talk to Earl.”
Earl called out a greeting to Brooke and Dan, then pressed a button to raise the headboard. “Come in. Come in. I’d get up, but the nurses yell at me.”
Dan shook Earl’s hand. “You look good.”
“And you look exhausted,” Earl countered.
Brooke frowned at Dan, then hugged Earl. “It’s good to see you, Earl.”
Earl told them to sit and launched right to the point. “Cara brought Teresa Knowles over here during lunch today. Did you know Teresa told me that she’d only agree to take Sherlock if I gave her permission?”
Brooke smiled. “She was lovely to speak with over the phone.”
Earl shook his finger at Brooke. “I know you introduced Sherlock and Teresa.”
Dan leaned over and whispered, “You’ve been busy.”
“Just introductions.” Brooke’s voice barely lifted above the hum of the blood-pressure machine. She stepped closer to the hospital bed. “I hope you understand, Earl. If Sherlock and Teresa weren’t compatible, I wasn’t going to suggest that you meet her.”
What Brooke didn’t add was that time wasn’t on their side. Dan had talked to Cara that morning. A room would be available the day after next for Earl at Bright Heart Sanctuary. Willing or not, Earl would be discharged from the hospital to his new home. Without Sherlock.
“Well.” Earl’s bushy eyebrows lowered over his blue gaze. “You’ve got to tell me about their meeting.”
Dan moved the two chairs closer to the bed. This wasn’t going to be a short story. From the firm set of Earl’s wrinkles, he expected Brooke to give him every detail from the beginning to the end of the meeting.
“I walked Sherlock from The Pampered Pooch to Bits and Bites Pantry. It’s across the street from the pet store. Teresa and I planned to meet there.” Brooke leaned forward and touched Earl’s arm as if sharing a really good secret. “Sherlock was more than happy to escape the doggy day care. The Australian shepherd brothers, Lewis and Coop, were more rambunctious than usual. And every doggy in day care seems to believe Sherlock wants to play.”
“Sherlock used to fetch the ball a lot and run beside me, carrying a stick.” Earl grinned and tapped his forehead. “Now our minds want to play, and our bodies tell us no. Sherlock will nose a tennis ball around the house. Be sure to tell Teresa that.”
Brooke glanced at Dan. A smile wavered across her face, dancing through her gaze, before she turned toward Earl. “We were early so Sherlock and I ordered broccoli-cheddar soup and cookies. Then retreated to the last table on the patio. The one tucked behind the planters that hides the patrons but grants an excellent view to people watch.”
“Sherlock enjoys sitting at the park bench and watching the world pass by almost as much as his walks.” Earl dropped back on his pillow and eyed Brooke. “You’ll need to remember to pass that along, too.”
Brooke never reacted. Dan barely refrained from nodding himself. Only then did he realize that Earl hadn’t actually given his permission to Teresa Knowles. He’d said “if he gave his permission” earlier. Clearly Brooke had caught on to that one key phrase much sooner than Dan.
“Teresa arrived. She brought treats for Sherlock,” Brooke said. “The dog biscuits were homemade by one of her kitchen staff who bakes for her own dogs. I’ve already requested the recipe for myself. Ben and I plan to make them together for the dogs.”
That phrase Dan caught. His son and Brooke had plans. Future plans. But Dan and Brooke hadn’t discussed her future plans. Or made plans for themselves. She’d mentioned that her in-laws had found her a rental home up north. She was waiting on availability. Dan studied her profile. Could she be waiting on something else? Or someone else? Specifically, Dan. But discussing the future was significant. It transformed whatever was between them into something much more serious.
Dan was already committed to Ben. How could he help Ben flourish, if he was committed to something else? To someone else. To Brooke. What if he failed them both?
Earl rubbed his chin. “Did Sherlock like the biscuits as much as your treats?”
“I think even more.” Brooke shook her head as if disappointed. Yet the delight was there in her tone.
Would she be disappointed or delighted when she moved up north? Dan refused to consider what he’d be. He stretched in the chair. When had the hospital chairs become so hard and uncomfortable?
“You should definitely get that recipe.” Earl smoothed his finger over the tape covering his IV port. “Always good to give the dogs options.”
“I like to think so,” Brooke said. “Sherlock sat between Teresa and I while we ate. He edged closer and closer to Teresa throughout the meal and finally put his head on her lap.”
Dan figured the dog wanted a second biscuit. If the biscuits were that good, who could blame him?
“But she hadn’t given him the biscuit yet,” Earl mused.
“No, we saved those for the end of lunch.” Brooke grinned. “I think Sherlock sensed her loneliness. Teresa became a widow less than a year ago.”
“Sherlock always had a keen sense of emotions.” Pride was there in Earl’s gravelly voice. “Always right beside me before I knew I needed him.”
Like Brooke. She’d been right beside Dan, starting with Valerie’s unexpected arrival. She’d been there even when Dan hadn’t known he’d needed her. What was he supposed to do when she wasn’t there? When she returned north to her own life? He rolled his shoulders as if that would smooth the uneasiness away.
“Teresa welcomed his attention and lavished Sherlock with her own affection,” Brooke said.
“Do you think they bonded?” Earl asked.
Brooke nodded. “Even better, I think they understood each other.”
“Looks like I’m moving out of here and into Bright Heart Sanctuary.” Earl adjusted the pillow behind his head. A peaceful smile overtook his weathered face. “And Sherlock is moving, too.”
“Then you’re going to give Teresa your permission to take Sherlock home?” Brooke stood up and sat on the side of Earl’s bed.
“I’ll call Cara and tell her as soon as you leave,” Earl said.
“I know this is hard.” Brooke wrapped Earl’s hand inside hers. “But it really is for the best.”
What was for the best with Brooke? To stay in the city or leave. If she stayed in the city, would she expect more from Dan than he could give? She had her once-in-a-lifetime love. Surely, she wasn’t looking for that again. But she deserved that, didn’t she? Dan rubbed his chest and moved the chairs back against the wall.
“It’s easier now that Sherlock has a special place to spend the rest of his days, too,” Earl said.
“And Teresa told me she’d bring you pictures of Sherlock.” Brooke patted Earl’s hand.
“Don’t be telling anyone on account that you might get Teresa in trouble.” Earl checked the doorway, then motioned Brooke closer. “But Teresa promised me that she’d bring Sherlock to work and let him visit me.”
“That’s wonderful.” Brooke’s voice sounded watery.
Like she swallowed her tears. Would she cry when she left the city? Would she cry when she said goodbye to Dan? Would he? No. After all, they weren’t anything like that. He cleared his throat.
Earl set his other hand on top of Brooke’s. “I’ll be expecting to see you now and again, too.”
Dan wanted to see Brooke more than now and again.
“You can count on it.” Brooke hugged Earl and wished him a good-night.
Could Dan count on Brooke to stay? Dan pushed his errant thoughts away and shook Earl’s hand, promising to stop in to see Earl after his shift ended in the morning. That was something he could count on: his job.
“Remember, it’s black coffee,” Earl called out. “No sugar and none of those fancy flavored creams.”
“Got it.” Dan grinned. “Still want the fancy-shaped pastry?”
“The one with the cinnamon-apple filling?” Earl’s eyebrows lifted, widening his eyes.
“That’s the one,” Dan said.
“Have to admit, I’d like to sample that one again.” Earl patted his stomach.
“See you tomorrow,” Dan said. “For another sample.”
An elevator ride later, Dan walked outside the hospital and touched his stomach. “Talking about apple turnovers made me hungry. That and the success with Earl and Sherlock.”
“I’m not sure there’s anything that doesn’t make you hungry.” Brooke bumped into him, laughter in her tone.
“Liver pâté,” Dan said.
“Excuse me.”
“I don’t like liver pâté.” Dan shuddered, drawing her laughter and his own smile. “Looking at it reminds me of cat food. Tasting it ruins my appetite.”
“That is very good information to have.”
Brooke’s joy surrounded him. He wanted more time with her like this. “Almost sunset and that means suppertime.”
Brooke bit the corner of her lip and looked at him. “How hungry are you?”
“You just told me that I’m always hungry.”
She shifted, set her hand on his chest and stopped him. “Can you maybe wait to eat until after sunset?”
“Maybe.” Dan forgot about eating. He wanted to wrap his arm around her waist and draw her closer. He wanted to feel more than her hand on his chest. “What do you have in mind?”
“We’re less than four blocks away from the Lyon Street Steps.” Her gaze dropped to his mouth. Her fingers tensed on his chest. She blinked, dropped her hand and rushed on, “If we hurry, we can climb the stairs before the sun goes down.”
Dan wanted to say no. He had a good life with Ben. She’d had the perfect marriage. What could they give each other? They lived in different worlds—he liked the fast-paced city, she preferred the mountains. He had a son. She had her animals. She made him better. He made her... “There’s over 275 stairs.”
“That are perfect for working up a really good appetite.” Her plea was wrapped inside her encouraging voice.
Dan set his hands on his hips, rather than on her waist. “You’re serious?”
“It’s one of my favorite places in the city.” Brooke blushed with her confession. Her enthusiasm dimmed, lowering her voice. “I haven’t been up there since before my marriage. Phillip and I always talked about hiking the stairs to watch the sunset, but we never did. Something always came up. Usually work meetings or after-hours business calls.”
Dan could give her this. A new memory in the city. With him. He held out his hand. “Let’s start climbing.”
“Really?” Excitement rushed through her voice.
Absolutely. When she left the city, she’d have this moment to take with her.
Four blocks and 188 stairs later, Dan stopped counting, content to follow Brooke and listen to her commentary about the possible owners of the mansions lining either side of the stairs. Her speculation on how many generations of the same family roamed the manicured lawns. The history of weddings and birthdays celebrated on the extensive patios. The tiered garden fountains and wrought-iron benches keeping their own secrets.
Dan had his own secrets. His own wishes. Impractical. Impossible. That was the problem with matters of the heart.
Yet at the top of the stairs, the sun burned the sky and greeted the evening. Maybe it was the sunset casting the city in a golden haze. Or maybe it was the glint of gold in Brooke’s gaze. Or the awe in her face. Or the pure joy in her touch.
She took his hand. He pulled her to him.
And somewhere inside that sunset, their lips found each other. Their hearts connected.
Seconds slowed the minutes as if even time recognized the significance.
Dan held on to Brooke and the happiness inside him.
And for that instance, he believed in magic. In wishes. And the impossible.