out."
"When can I visit Squiggles?" demanded Sara.
"Wednesdays after school would be good," said Miller. "I have a safety meeting, and Mrs. Davis doesn't like doing Wednesdays."
Jamie wondered how he'd been dealing with Wednesdays until now. She hoped he hadn't been leaving the girl alone.
"Can I hold Squiggles again?" begged Sara.
Jamie unzipped her pack and lifted the kitten out.
"Squiggles," crooned Sara, "I'm so glad to see you." She rubbed her face against the kitten, which immediately began to purr loudly.
"This is very good of you," said Sara's father. "It's going to be a terrific help. I work regular nights, so I can be home in time to get Sara off to school, and be there for her when she gets home. But Mrs. Davis isn't willing to do anything more than the nights, and whenever I need to go for a meeting outside Sara's school hours, there's no one to look after her."
"I'm glad I can help. Do you—" She broke off at the sound of rubber-soled shoes outside the room. Someone walking this way along the corridor, voices. "Sara, we'd better put the cat away."
"He scratched me! Squiggles, you scratched me!"
Jamie grabbed for the cat, but Squiggles was a flash of orange tail disappearing under the sleeping boy's bed.
A woman in nurse's uniform stepped into the room. "Sara, Dr. Kent is here to see you."
Sara was on hands and knees, her head under one of the beds, while her father stood with his mouth half-open.
"Hello, Sara," said a deep voice, "and Mr. Miller."
His voice hadn't changed since last night. The man sent a shiver down Jamie's spine, and it was impossible to look at those lips without remembering. She carefully stepped back from Sara and her father, between the two beds, and hoped Squiggles would stay hidden until the doctor left?
"Ms. Ferguson," he said, acknowledging her coldly.
She'd wondered about his eyes last night, the way they seemed almost black as he leaned down to take her mouth. Brown, she'd thought earlier, and she'd been right. Deep brown, the color of really expensive dark chocolate.
She couldn't see any memory of their kiss in his eyes. She'd thought the shattering impact must be mutual, but apparently not.
"Dr. Kent—"
"Ms. Ferguson, please step outside while I examine Sara."
The nurse pulled a curtain around what must have been Sara's bed, then ushered the girl inside with her father.
Where on earth had Squiggles got to? Jamie couldn't see him, and hoped he hadn't slipped out of the room without her knowledge.
"Ms. Ferguson?"
She met Dr. Kent's brown eyes, saw his head incline toward the door.
"I can't go. I have to... ah, find the cat."
"What?" he demanded, his dark eyes suddenly black with anger. The voices behind the curtain silenced.
* * *
"I need to find the cat." She gestured toward the sleeping boy's bed. Maybe he was unconscious, she decided, because surely a sleeping child would wake with Dr. Kent's deep voice only feet away.
"Did you say, find the cat? You brought a cat into this hospital?"
"Don't worry, I'll find him." She crouched down to peer under the bed, spotted orange fur under an empty bed near the door. She slid closer, reached, and missed.
She carefully set the pack aside and started to slide under the bed, but the moment she moved, so did Squiggles.
"Dr. Kent, could you get down on the other side? If you were right there, you could catch him when he ducks away from me."
Under the bed, she saw his feet walk to the other side, then his heels lifted as he crouched down. She saw his face, felt her own temptation to laugh in sharp contrast to his frown of disapproval. She slid further under the bed, felt Squiggles's fur brush her hand as he backed away, saw the doctor's hand flash out.
"Got him," he said.
Jamie rolled out from under the bed.
The curtain around Sara's bed swished back. The nurse said, "Dr. Kent?"
The doctor turned to the nurse, the cat in his hands.
"A cat! Get that animal out of here!"
Jamie grabbed her pack. "Put him in