While Love Stirs (25 page)

“Of course we need flowers.” Charlotte stared at Joel sitting across from her at the kitchen table. She couldn’t believe he would even suggest flowers weren’t a requirement. “What kind of ball would it be without floral arrangements?”

“All I’m saying is floral arrangements might be an area where we could cut costs.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Mrs. Phillips gave us a set amount to work with, and I want to make sure we stay within our budget.”

She jammed her fists onto her hips. “We’ll have to cut somewhere else, because flowers are nonnegotiable.”

Joel sighed and picked up a sheet of paper. “Well, what about all this food? Is there anything you could cut from the menu?”

Charlotte yanked the list from his hands, frowned, then tossed the paper back. “I guess we could eliminate the olives.”

“The olives?” Laughter shook Joel’s chest. He pushed back from
the table and stood. “We need a break. Does Mrs. Phillips have a billiards room?”

“Yes, but you want to play billiards now? Right in the middle of our work session?”

He pulled Charlotte to her feet. “I do and so do you. Come on. It’ll be a nice diversion.”

“Joel, I don’t know how to play billiards.”

“I’ll teach you.” He placed his hand on her back and propelled her from the room. “Lead the way.”

The billiards room was in the back of the house. Since it was Aunt Sam’s husband who’d played billiards, the room was kept closed and unheated. However, Aunt Sam kept it dusted for the occasional times Lincoln decided to use it when he was over.

Charlotte opened the large double doors and a gust of cool, stale air struck her. She stepped inside and eyed the billiards table in the center of the room, daring her to come closer. “It’s chilly in here.”

“I’ll start a fire.” Joel knelt before the marble fireplace and soon had a small blaze glowing. “Ready to play?”

She stood before the fireplace, rubbing her arms. “It might be better if I simply watch you.”

“Hey, if I have to plan a charity ball, you can learn to play billiards.” He passed her a cue stick before gathering up all the colored and striped balls inside a wooden triangle. He put the black eight ball in the center. “The white ball is the cue ball. You have to strike that ball and make it hit the other ones.”

“I have watched the game before.” Her voice held a tinge of sarcasm.

“Good.” He removed the triangle. “Okay, you can break them.”

“What?” The image of breaking eggs popped into her mind, but she was certain he didn’t intend for her to crack the balls in that manner.

He motioned her to the end of the table. “Come stand down here and I’ll show you.” Charlotte joined him and he moved beside her. “First you have to align your body with the shot. Now take the
cue stick in your left hand like this.” He demonstrated the hold on his own cue with his thumbs pointed downward. “And then you need to, well, bend at the hips.”

She leaned over and put her left hand on the table like she’d observed others doing. “Is this right?”

“Sort of.” He wrapped his arms around her and placed his hands on top of hers.

She sucked in her breath as a delightful warmth spread through her body. If only he were holding her for a different reason. But she mustn’t let herself give in to those feelings. Joel was not the kind of man she needed—not after George.

His mouth was so close to her cheek she could feel his breath. “Make a bridge with your left hand like this.” He manipulated her fingers into place, then squeezed her right hand on the cue stick with his own. “Now, we’re going to give it a firm strike. Ready? One, two, three.”

Together they hit the cue ball. It struck the colored balls and scattered them.

“Look at that.” Joel stepped away from her. “My turn. Red ball in the corner pocket.” He pointed to the ball and then the pocket with his cue stick. The ball easily fell into the pocket with a thunk. Moving around the table, he pointed to a yellow ball. “The number one ball in the side pocket.”

“Wait a minute. Don’t I get a turn?”

“As soon as I miss.”

“That hardly seems fair.”

“Life is not always fair, Charlotte.” He sank another ball, then missed. “You’re up.”

“Show-off.”

“Me?” He pressed a hand to his chest. “You get the striped balls. Which one do you want?”

“I have no idea. Let’s go for that blue one.” She positioned herself on the side of the table nearest the striped number ten ball.

“Where are you going to put it?”

“Probably through the window.”

Chuckling, he stepped behind her again and slid his arms around her. “How do you think we should do this?”

With his chest pressed against her back, she could scarcely breathe, let alone think. “I’m not sure.”

“This one will require a gentle touch. Easy.”

His breath against her ear sent chills coursing through her. Did he feel her tremor? She let him pull her hand back with his and lead her in tapping the white ball. It hit the striped ball, which landed perfectly in the side pocket.

Nurse Pierce cleared her throat from the doorway. “Well, aren’t you two cozy?”

Charlotte startled, but Joel didn’t move from his position. Her face grew warm under the nurse’s intense gaze.

“Do you need something, Nurse Pierce?” Joel finally stepped back but kept himself between Charlotte and the nurse.

“I heard noise down here and didn’t want it to interrupt Mrs. Phillips’s rest, Doctor.” She spoke in a syrupy-sweet tone that turned Charlotte’s stomach.

Charlotte tapped the end of her cue stick against the floor. “But her room is on the other side of the house.”

“Nevertheless, your aunt stirred.” Her smile boarded on a smirk. “Sound travels, Miss Gregory.”

“She has a point, Charlotte. We don’t want to wake Tessa or your aunt.” Joel took her cue stick and returned it to the stand.

Charlotte fought the pinprick of disappointment. He was right, of course, but she hadn’t wanted the game to end.

Nurse Pierce seized the opportunity to fire a glare in Charlotte’s direction while Joel’s back was turned. But why? Besides the menu situation, she’d done nothing to Nurse Pierce. And recently she’d even thought they’d made a little headway with some civil discussions. Did this woman have her starched white cap set for Dr. Brooks?

“Let’s leave the balls in place. We’ll pick up our game later.” He nodded toward the nurse. “Thank you. That will be all.”

“Yes, Doctor.” She paused. “I know there are a lot of patients counting on you tomorrow. I do hope you get some sleep soon.”

He nodded. “I will be going home directly. Thank you for your concern.”

Concern, my foot!
Charlotte had guessed correctly. The nurse was doing whatever she could to keep Charlotte and Joel away from each other. Even though there was nothing between them, the idea was irksome.

Nurse Pierce gave the doctor a brief nod and departed.

Joel banked the fire, then stood. “Nurse Pierce was right. I do have a lot of patients to see tomorrow. I’d better be going.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

They padded down the hallway in silence and stopped in the foyer. She smiled up at him. “I’ll take the olives off the list.”

“No. Leave them. If you think they’re important, then they are. We’ll take a fresh look at it all tomorrow.” He grabbed his hat from the hook on the hall tree. “If you’re out and about, why don’t you come by my office around lunch time? We can work on some things while we eat. I’ll cook.”

“You?”

His lips curled. “Sure. I know all the best places to eat near the hospital.”

She laughed. How quickly things could change between the two of them. One minute they were ranting at each other and the next they were laughing together and having fun. She opened the front door. “You’d better go. Patients, remember?”

“Yeah, I guess I should. Good night, Charlotte.”

“Good night.” She pushed the door shut behind him and watched him walk down the sidewalk to his automobile, broad shoulders held erect and sure.

As he walked away, she recalled how he’d stepped between her and Nurse Pierce. And if she closed her eyes, she could still remember the feel of his arms around her.

Joel might make her crazy sometimes, but with him she always
felt safe. Since her father had died, she’d lost the feeling of security. She’d had no one’s arms to run to with life’s scrapes.

She sighed. Joel would be that kind of man to someone.

But it couldn’t be her. Joel liked control, and she couldn’t risk letting him control her.

29

With morning rounds complete, Joel headed downstairs to speak once again with Arthur about funds for new equipment. He’d waited nearly a week to allow the superintendent time to speak with Terrence Ruckman about the supposed missing money. Given Dr. Ancker’s way of dealing with things, he’d most likely sorted everything out and given Ruckman a well-deserved sermon.

“Morning, Joel.” Arthur pointed to an empty chair. “What can I do for you?”

“It’s about that equipment I need for my wards. Remember we spoke about it earlier?”

“Ah yes.” The superintendent pressed his fingertips together. “A new microscope.”

“And a sphygmomanometer. One of the nurses dropped it and shattered the glass. Mercury everywhere.”

“I spoke to Mr. Ruckman. He says you’ve used up your allotted supply of funds already.”

Joel narrowed his eyes. “Listen, Arthur, something is going on here. You told me I was supposed to get some of the money donated by Mrs. Ostberg’s women’s club, but when I went to claim it for the microscope, Terrence said it was no longer there. I understand unexpected expenses can come up in a hospital, but I want to know where that money went if it didn’t go to my patients.”

Arthur leaned forward. “Are you accusing Mr. Ruckman of foul play?”

“I don’t know.” Joel raked his hand through his hair. “I don’t like the man, but that doesn’t mean he’s doing anything crooked.”

“He says you’re too inexperienced to handle your wards.”

“Is that what you think?”

“If I thought that, you wouldn’t have the position you do, even temporarily.” He drew in a deep breath. “Be careful of him, Joel. He’s friends with several board members. Hospital politics, I’m afraid, are the ugly side of medicine, and you need those votes if you want to make your position permanent.”

“Am I the only one complaining?”

“Frankly, yes. At least right now.” Arthur stood up. “But that doesn’t mean something isn’t awry. You’ve always had an uncanny sixth sense, and I’ve always encouraged you to trust that.” He laid his hand on Joel’s shoulder. “You’re on a good career path right now, and I don’t want to see you mess that up because of a little microscope.”

Joel released a long breath. “Don’t worry. I’ll step carefully.”

Charlotte glanced around Joel’s office. Everything was in perfect order. What would Joel do if she moved something? Would he notice?

She shifted the water pitcher on his desk over an inch and snickered. Tapping her lip with her finger, she looked for other items to move. She tipped his pencils upside down in the holder so all the points faced the ceiling. Such a small thing, but she imagined he’d see it.

What else could she do? Ah, his letter opener faced to the right on his desk. She picked it up.

The door opened and she jumped.

“Joel, what time do you—” A nurse stopped in the open doorway. “Oh, hello. I didn’t realize Joel wasn’t in. I’m Mattie Brooks, Joel’s sister. And you are . . . ?”

“Charlotte Gregory.”

Mattie eyed the letter opener in Charlotte’s hand. Her gaze traveled to the pencils. “And you were moving my brother’s things around, weren’t you?”

Charlotte reached for the pencils. “I can put them back.”

“Don’t you dare.” Mattie giggled and closed the door. “This is one of my favorite things to do. Let me show you what really bugs him.” She moved to his bookcase. “See how they are all in alphabetical order? I like to move one or two out of place and see how long it takes him to notice.” She grabbed a volume and switched it with another.

“How long does it take?”

“Usually less than a minute.” She turned to her. “Nice work with the water pitcher too.”

Charlotte studied the trophies on top of the bookcase. “Did he win all of these rowing?”

“Yes, he loves it. Go ahead. I know you want to move one.”

“I do.” She laughed. “But how did you know?”

“Because I want to do it every time I get a chance.”

Charlotte rotated one of the trophies ninety degrees. “There.”

“Miss Gregory, you’re a gem.” Mattie sat down in one of the chairs.

“Please call me Charlotte.” She sat down in the chair beside her. “Will all this make him angry?”

“Angry? Heavens, no. He knows it’s weird to act like this. He’ll give us a mock glare and start setting things to rights.”

When Mattie’s lips curved upward, Charlotte saw that she shared Joel’s same stunning smile. But unlike Joel, Mattie seemed much less controlling.

“How long has Joel been obsessed with order?”

“He’s always been a little bit this way. Aren’t we all? But he started becoming obsessed with
his things
in college. It seemed like the harder he worked in his classes, the more order he needed other places.”

“Interesting. So is he like this anywhere else?”

“Well, a hospital is a pretty orderly place, but no, he doesn’t expect others to keep their things in perfect order. He might straighten a crooked picture every now and then, but nothing else.” She pressed a finger to her lips. “I think I hear him coming. Thirty seconds from door to pencils.”

Mattie turned and plastered on an innocent look. As Joel entered, Charlotte did likewise.

“Hello, ladies.” He crossed the room to his desk and came to a halt. Reaching for the pencils, he scrunched his brow in Mattie’s direction, then flipped them over and reinserted them. “What have you been teaching Charlotte?”

“Actually, I caught her doing that.” Mattie stood and smoothed her white apron. “Of course, I applauded her efforts.”

He rolled his eyes and turned the letter opener the other direction. “Now I’m going to have to deal with two of you messing with my things?”

Mattie laid her hand on the doorknob. “Yes, dear brother. You are one lucky man.”

He chuckled as Mattie left, then turned to Charlotte. “She’s the only one who’s ever done that—until now. Did you enjoy yourself?”

She grinned. “Immensely.”

“I’d better get you out of here before you do any more damage.” He moved the water pitcher back to its original spot, then came around the desk. He stopped at the bookcase and moaned. “Give me a minute, will you? Mattie loves to mess with this.”

Charlotte bit back a chuckle as he righted the trophy and replaced the books. Should she tell him she’d been the one to twist the trophy? No, he’d taken the teasing in stride, which genuinely impressed her.

For a man who liked everything in order, Joel Brooks was also full of surprises.

Greeted by the tantalizing scents of today’s special of seared steak, Joel held the door to his favorite café for Charlotte. It might not be up to her standards, but they made a great T-bone. She’d been unusually quiet on their walk to the restaurant. With her chin tucked and her lips tight, this charity ball clearly had her concerned.

After they both ordered food from the waitress, Joel pointed to the tablet Charlotte carried. “Well, tell me what’s got you so worried.”

“I’m not worried.”

“Charlotte, you can always be honest with me.” He raised his eyebrows. “So, how bad is it?”

Charlotte set the tablet on the table. “I think we are in way over our heads. I met with Aunt Sam this morning and she went over the details. Do you know how many details go into a ball?”

“Honestly? No. I can name all the bones, organs, and nerves of the body, but I can’t tell you a thing about balls.”

“Besides the theme, decorations, orchestra, and food”—she pointed to each item on her sheet as she spoke—“we need a reception committee of men to greet the guests, with badges of distinction.”

“Naturally,” he teased.

She glared at him. “And we’ll need a candy booth, a lemonade booth, and a fancywork booth.”

“Fancywork?”

“Since this is a fund-raiser, Aunt Sam said women are often willing to donate tatted doilies and embroidered handkerchiefs and dresser scarves they’ve made.” She pointed to the next item on her list. “We’ll need to organize a grand march and decide who’s to lead it. That person is usually the chairman of the floor, with the lady he’s escorting.”

“And what does the chairman of the floor do?”

“Select the music, I think.” She looked up at him. “I think you should do the honor on this one.”

“Me?” He leaned back in his chair. “Do you have any acquain
tances with a background in music who could help me pick the songs?”

She started to say something and stopped. That was odd. Why did she look guilty?

“We’ll think of someone.” She forced a smile. “And then there are the dance cards that need to be designed and the presentation of the debutantes, and—”

“Charlotte, breathe.” He covered her hand with his, drawing a circle with his thumb over her soft skin. “We can do this.”

“There’s so much to do.” She seemed to notice his hand on hers and froze.

“But you’re not alone. I’ll help, and I’m sure your sisters will too.” He withdrew his hand. “And I bet you’ve recruited my sister and you didn’t even realize it.”

“You think Mattie will help?”

“I doubt if you could stop her. She’ll probably round up the other nurses to pitch in too.”

The waitress delivered their food. Joel offered grace, then Charlotte placed her napkin in her lap. “Joel, is Mattie your only sibling?”

He nodded, slicing into the thick steak. “I think my mother would have liked more children, but that didn’t happen.”

“So she put all her hopes and dreams on you.”

“More than you realize.” He mentally kicked himself. Why did he mumble that? Knowing Charlotte, she’d want more information, and he didn’t want to get into his family history here and now.

“What did you say?”

“Never mind.” He speared a green bean. “Now, about the ball. Where do you think we should start?”

She paused for a moment as if she were considering whether to pursue his remark or let him off the hook. Finally she nodded and picked up her tablet. “We need to decide on a theme. I have two ideas—a garden scene with butterflies and flowers or a Mother Goose theme. All of the committee members could come as characters from nursery rhymes like Little Bo Peep and Old King Cole.”

“Would I be one of those committee members you’d expect to dress up?”

“Absolutely.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this out loud, but in that case”—he rolled his eyes—“I like the butterflies.”