Save the Last Dance (2 page)

She’d never been a flirt, and even at twenty-one Kate usually just managed awkward blushes and inane remarks if a good-looking guy flirted with her, because she’d grown up determined that nothing—absolutely
nothing
—was going to stand in the way of her future.

Not foolish young boys.

Not reckless passion in the backseat of some guy’s car.

Not the early single parenthood and lack of education that had ground her mother’s own hopes and dreams to dust.

So Kate had avoided the parties, the silly high school crushes. She’d rarely dated. And in college, she’d practically lived in the library, working hard to ensure that her grants and scholarships would continue.

But all of that resolve faded as she stared at the broad back and bowed head of the man standing out on the patio. She’d always felt soul-deep empathy for animals in pain and people in trouble, and she had no doubt that this was a person who needed a friend.

“Hey, dudes,” a deep voice growled into a microphone. “One more song and you’re all outta here. Frat rules.”

So there wasn’t much time. Her heart in her
throat, her palms clammy and her pulse racing, Kate hesitated, then gathered her courage. She crossed the room and stepped out onto the patio.

“Hey, there,” she said softly.

“Hey.” His voice was low and rich, and sent shivers of awareness dancing across her skin.

He didn’t turn around, so she moved to his side and stared up at the stars, too. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

“Nope.” His mouth lifted in a faint, wry smile. “I suppose you saw the scene inside.”

“Um…no.” She swallowed hard. “I just thought maybe you’d like to…um, dance. This is the last song of the night.”

She’d always been a terrible liar, and he laughed aloud. “You don’t need to be kind. Hilary picked quite a place to deliver her little message, but I’ll recover.”

“I’m sorry if it wasn’t a good one.”

“It wasn’t.” He lifted a shoulder. “Then again, sometimes it’s better to cut your losses and run—especially if you’ve made a big mistake. And apparently, she figured she had. With me.”

Kate floundered for something intelligent to say, realizing too late that her concern for him had simply made her an unwelcome intruder at a very awkward moment.

“Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met.” He looked down at her, a hint of amusement in his faint smile. “I’m Jared Mathers. And you are…?”

Mathers.
The late Senator Ellsworth Mathers’s son? Heat rose into her cheeks as a dizzying blur of headlines flooded her head. There’d certainly been plenty when Jared entered the University of Minnesota Law School at the beginning of the semester.

The Mathers were millionaires, many times over. Moved in lofty political circles. Shortly before his death last year, the senator had been considered a top contender for the Democratic presidential candidate.

Her first impression of Jared had been miles off. The jacket he carried was Dolce & Gabbana; those faded jeans carried an Armani label, she was sure. And if that wasn’t a real Rolex on his wrist, she’d eat the cheap copy she’d bought at a discount store last fall.

No wonder he’d looked amused. She’d pounced on him minutes after the dramatic exit of his girlfriend, looking like a gold digger of the worst kind.

Humiliated, she murmured an awkward excuse and fled, past the supercilious, knowing looks and titters from a gaggle of sorority girls and out to her battered Ford pickup, then home to the cramped
apartment over a garage that she shared with Deanna and another vet student.

And hoped she’d never see Jared Mathers again.

S
HE SAW HIM
the next morning at the vet school library, proving that heartfelt wishes didn’t count for much, and that embarrassment wasn’t something that dissipated overnight. It was right there, in the heat of her cheeks and the trembling of her stomach, the moment he sauntered over to her, propped his large, tanned hands on the table and flashed an easy grin.

“You didn’t leave a slipper at the ball, but your friend Deanna told me you practically live here,” he said in a husky whisper. He glanced at the stack of textbooks in front of her, arranged to hide a now-cold cup of coffee and a half-eaten peanut butter sandwich from the eyes of the Nurse Ratched library assistant. “Guess she was right.”

“I’ve got a pathology midterm fourth hour, and a paper due tomorrow.” She rearranged the stack of papers in front of her to avoid his eyes, expecting to see a hint of mockery, but when she looked up she found only empathy.

“I hide out in the periodical section of the main library myself,” he said. “There’s no way I can concentrate at the frat.”

His friendly manner was so unexpected that she was once again at a loss for something to say. It almost sounded as if he’d come looking for her, though
that
couldn’t be right.
And then she saw what he held in his hand.

“Oh.” Of course he wasn’t interested. He’d simply found her pocket-sized planner and was nice enough to return it. “I looked all over for that this morning.”

“Must’ve fallen out of your purse when you left the patio last night. I tried to catch up to you, but you’d disappeared.” His eyes twinkled. “If you’d written your address inside, I could’ve delivered it sooner.”

She wondered what he would have thought if he’d seen her aged vehicle or the shabby place where she lived, and breathed a silent thanks for the fact that he’d tracked her down here, in neutral territory. “I can’t thank you enough. All of my assignment deadlines and test dates are in there.”

“Thank me by having a cup of coffee with me.”

“What?”

“I’ll buy. Just name the time and place.”

“But—”

He laughed. “Just coffee, because I didn’t get that last dance, and now I wish I had. Prove your friend wrong, and say yes.”

There were a dozen reasons she should decline, but she could well imagine what Deanna had said about her—
hermit
and
recluse
were words her friend bandied about quite often—and Kate’s damnable rebellious streak made her nod before she even stopped to think.

“Okay. We could run over to the Student Union, if you don’t mind.” She flicked a glance at her watch, thankful she had an excuse to make it short. Conversation regarding ovo-parasites, tensile strength of suture material or dystocia in maiden ewes she could handle. What on earth would she have to say to someone like him? “I’ve got to get back here to book it a while longer before that test, though. Say…just for half an hour?”

He grinned. “More than I’d expected.”

They walked toward the redbrick Union, crunching through the dead leaves, breathing in the crisp scent of late fall. She’d figured the situation would be awkward, but the minutes flew as they sat outside on the cement steps of the Union, cradling foam cups of hot coffee and talking casually about random events on campus. He was warm, witty and made keen observations; within minutes she felt as if she’d known him forever.

But then she happened to glance to the east, toward the vet school buildings.

With a start, she looked at her watch and jumped to her feet. “My exam,” she exclaimed, tearing down the sidewalk with a quick wave. “I’ll be late!”

It wasn’t until much later that she realized she’d enjoyed every minute with him, but he’d expertly led the conversation while sharing almost nothing about himself.

A very cool guy.

A dead end.

But what did she expect? He’d undoubtedly realized the obvious—that they couldn’t be more different, and that she was totally off the radar as far as his family and peers were concerned.

But it was just as well, she decided over an entire pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough at midnight.

Ice cream was there when you craved emotional support. Men were a complication she just didn’t need. Not until she graduated. Not until she set up her own practice and proved to herself that she was secure and a success in her own right.

Next time, Deanna could just try fixing someone else up for a hot date.

S
HE HADN’T GIVEN
J
ARED
her address, but at five the next evening he appeared at her door with a fragrant pizza in one hand, plus a grocery sack and a six-pack of Pepsi in the other.

He wore a different pair of disreputable jeans, loafers and that same leather jacket over a dark green sweater, and even in that he could have posed for a Neiman Marcus advertisement.

Though she’d already shucked her dirty coveralls and boots outside, Kate was still in the clothes she’d worn to the stockyards, where she and the rest of her class had practiced bovine pregnancy palpations. But she had to give him credit—he didn’t seem to falter at her scraggly ponytail, or the fact that she wore no makeup and had to smell like the wrong end of a cow. “How on earth did you find me?”

“Deanna.” His eyes twinkled. “I saw her with you last night, and ran into her in the campus bookstore this morning.”

“So she’s giving out my address? To just
anyone?
”

“Actually, she dated one of my friends for a while, and we double-dated a few times. I think she’d give me a character reference. She made me promise I wouldn’t call you before coming over, because she said you’d just come up with an excuse not to see me.” He smiled, and hefted the weight of the pizza box. “Need dinner?”

She wanted to say no, but her stomach growled and the aroma of the pizza made her feel almost dizzy with hunger. “Um…sure. If you’ll give me a chance to shower. Come on in.”

She stepped aside, avoiding his eyes as he walked in. The clutter was familiar to her—a product of three vet students keeping late hours, with little time for housework—but she could only imagine what someone with live-in maids would think of it.

Deanna and Leesa boarded horses at a stable north of town, so there were bridles hanging from one of the kitchen chairs, and a roping saddle sat on a rack in the corner, with a giant purple bunny propped on its seat.

“Nice rabbit,” he said solemnly.

“We all love the state fair, so we spent a lot of time there over Labor Day weekend. I blew my
money on corn dogs and minidoughnuts. Leesa couldn’t stay away from the carnival games.”

He laughed. “Good shot, is she?”

“College marksmanship team, first runner-up. I defy you to find her bed under all of the stuffed animals she won.” Kate tossed him the TV remote and waved a hand toward the Formica kitchen table and, beyond that, the swaybacked couch. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be out in a minute.”

S
HE MADE IT BACK IN TEN
—feeling infinitely better in clean clothes and a touch of makeup. Miraculously, Jared had found a couple of plates and napkins in the jumbled cupboards, and was now idly lounging in one of the chairs at the table, flipping through her pharmacology textbook.

He looked up with a gleam of appreciation in his eyes. “You sure clean up well. Fast, too. I was betting on an hour. Hungry?”

“Starved.” She watched him pull the pizza out of the oven and turn the dial to Off. “I’m still not sure what this is about, though.”

He slid a couple of slices of pizza on each plate, then set the rest back in the oven to stay warm. “It’s an apology.”

“Whatever for?”

“So far, I’ve been a jerk.” He tipped his head
slightly. “I dumped on you at the party, and obviously ruined the night for you, because you left in a hurry. And yesterday I stole all of your study time before that test.”

Fragrant steam rose from the spicy pepperoni and thick, gooey mozzarella as she lifted a piece for a first bite. At the explosion of flavor in her mouth, she closed her eyes in sheer ecstasy to savor each nuance. “This is
heaven.
”

“This is Luigi’s. Heaven is a few miles farther.” He waited until they’d polished off the entire pizza and four cans of soda, then he retrieved a bakery box from the fridge and lifted the lid with a flourish. “Chocolate-raspberry cheesecake, courtesy of the Lincoln Deli.”

“Ooooh.” She stared at the creamy, otherworldly dessert in awe. “How did you kn—” She caught herself and sighed with bliss. “Deanna.”

She served up fat wedges of the cheesecake, but guilt made her stop before taking a first bite. “I didn’t leave that frat party because of what you said. I left because…” She swallowed hard. “I was embarrassed. It had to look like I was hitting on you—and right after your girlfriend left. But honest, that wasn’t what I intended. And I sure hadn’t realized who you were, either.”

“Who I was?” His voice took on a sharp edge.
“Oh, right. The
senator’s
son. That makes a difference.”

“Well…yes.”

He pushed away from the table. “I think I’d better be going.” His voice was flat, unemotional, but the pain and frustration in his eyes spoke volumes.

“Wait—what did I say?” Mystified, she stared at him. “I think you misunderstood.”

“Oh, I understood, all right.” He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and jerked it on. “I’d thought—I’d hoped—you were different. But it’s always the same. It’s all about the money. The status.”

“You think that it matters to me?” She stared at him, wishing she could take back her words. “I was only trying to be a friend at that party, because your
girlfriend
turned into a banshee in front of all those people. And the only problem with your so-called status was that I thought people might think I was pursuing you
because
of it.”

Her voice started rising, but she flat-out didn’t care. “Although in retrospect, I really don’t give a dang what those shallow sorority twits think about me, anyway.”

“You still don’t get it.” He stopped at the door, one hand on the knob, and looked over his shoulder. “Yeah, there are plenty of people like
Hilary. They come from money, they want more of it, and when it’s gone, you may as well just turn to dust for all they care. Six months ago we got engaged. At the frat party? She returned my ring and let me know that she’d found someone else. Who, by the way, belongs to a prominent banking family in Saint Paul. For her, it’s all about money.”

Kate drew in a breath. “Oh, no.”

“And then there are the others, who just assume the worst when they find out about my background. They want nothing to do with someone who will automatically be pretentious, arrogant and shallow.” He gave a short laugh. “Sort of a reverse bias, like yours.”

Stung, she rose and braced her hands on the table. “Assumptions like that sure must limit your social life.”

He shrugged. “Just think about Hilary, and tell me that I’m wrong.”

Present Day

K
ATE MADE THE TRIP
to the hospital at roughly the speed of light, trying to concentrate on her college memories and not on what might have been happening in the ambulance far ahead.

She’d arrived to learn that Jared was alive—
though barely. Her staggering relief at that news had sent her buckling into the nearest chair, caught somewhere between joy and fear.

Seconds later, a nurse had hurried over with a clipboard and a million questions about Jared’s health, insurance, and whether or not there was a living will or power of attorney in place.

Kate could barely remember her responses, because all she could think about was the constant litany running through her mind.
He’s alive…He’s alive…He’s alive…

Now, at the sound of hurried, approaching footsteps, she staggered to her feet as a flash of panic rocketed through her.
Doctors…with bad news?

But it was Cindy Peters, and she wore a sympathetic smile. Dressed in surgical blues and all business, the nurse looked nothing like the sweatshirt-clad gal who’d wrestled a Newfoundland into the vet clinic last week for its annual rabies vaccination.

“Is Jared…Is he okay? Can I see him?”

“I’m sorry, but you can’t go back there just yet.”

“I want to see my husband,” Kate insisted.
“Now.”

“It’s been touch-and-go since he arrived. We had to restart his heart a few minutes ago, and we’re trying to get him stabilized so he can be taken up to surgery.”

“What?”
Kate reached blindly for the back of a chair as a wave of cold fear washed through her.

“He lost a lot of blood, Dr. Mathers. I understand he was pinned in the car and it took quite a while to extricate him.”

Kate had known that he was in critical condition, but hearing the words slammed that reality home. Numb, she let Cindy guide her back into the chair.

The nurse crouched in front of her and took Kate’s hands in her own. “There’s an E.R. doctor and a surgeon with him right now, and another surgeon is on the way. As soon as we get the radiology and MRI results, they’ll be taking him up to be prepped for surgery.”

“Here? Shouldn’t he be airlifted somewhere? To a bigger hospital?”

“We have complete facilities here. Two board-certified surgeons. And…” Cindy hesitated. “The main thing is that there just isn’t time.”

Kate’s stomach tied itself into a cold, hard knot. “Tell me about his injuries. I have a right to know.”

“Yes, but the doctors need to explain.” The nurse’s eyes filled with sympathy. “They know you’re here, and one of them will be out in a few minutes. What about the rest of your family—are they on the way?”

Kate’s heart dropped.

It wasn’t hard to read between the lines—there was a good chance Jared wouldn’t make it. “I—I called a friend in Madison. She’s picking up our daughter at the airport right now. And I called Jared’s mother and his sister, but neither answered. The chaplain said he would keep trying them.”

“Good, good.” Cindy stood and looked across the room at someone, tipped her head toward Kate, then dredged up an encouraging smile. “I need to get back in there. Just hang tight, Dr. Mathers. Your husband has the best of care, and he must be a fighter, or he wouldn’t have made it this far.”

But a second surgeon was rushing to the hospital. There wasn’t time for transfer to a bigger hospital. And Jared’s heart had already stopped once.

Kate paced the room. Dropped quarters in a coffee machine and swallowed the bitter brew, barely aware of the scalding heat. Seconds ticked slowly past on the bland white face of the old-fashioned clock above the waiting room door, mocking her rising anxiety.
What could be taking so long? Had Jared already died? Were they waiting for a chaplain to come back to the E.R. to help deliver the news?

At the sound of footsteps she whirled toward the door.

Ralph Watson, who lived just a mile from their home and who was one of the local internal
medicine docs, walked in and took one of her hands in both of his. “I’m glad I was covering the E.R. today, Kate.”

The grim expression in his eyes told her more than she wanted to believe.

“I’m taking you back to see him, but he needs to be transferred upstairs right away, because the surgeon is just fifteen minutes out. The anesthesiologist is up there waiting for you, so he can go over the release forms.”

He murmured empty reassurances that she could barely hear over the buzzing in her brain. A clammy chill crawled down her back.
Please God, let Jared be all right.

She lunged out of her chair and followed close at Ralph’s heels as he went through the double doors of the E.R. and wound through a maze of curtained cubicles and gurneys to a trauma room at the end. Her heart battered against her ribs and her fear mounted with every step.

Ralph pulled to a stop just outside the door. “Jared is unconscious, but we still take care what we say in hearing distance,” he said in a low voice. “He’s got a skull fracture and a lacerated liver causing internal bleeding. We might find more problems when we go in. And…” He took a slow breath as he rested a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“He’s got some third-degree burns on his legs. This would be a good time for prayer, Kate.”

Her knees buckled. The room swam. From somewhere far away, a gentle hand gripped her arm and a voice ordered her to sit down, but she pulled back and blinked hard, forcing away the pinpoints of light sparkling at the edge of her vision. “I’m okay…Just let me see him.”

She looked past the doctor’s shoulder into the room. An orderly swiftly pulled up the side of the gurney with a clang, while another one gathered the chart and placed it at the foot of the bed.

Oh, God.

Jared was on a ventilator.

On the other side of the bed, a nurse checked the flow rate of a bag of saline hanging from a stand, then pulled a white hospital blanket up over the heavy bandaging on his chest. A framework of some sort held the blankets away from his lower legs.

A monitor beeped and blinked, its glowing green lines tracing the rhythm of his heart.

Kate dealt with emergencies every day. She performed complex surgeries with a high degree of success and far less support staff than surgeons had in a hospital. But seeing Jared here, surrounded by tense staff and a jumble of high-tech hospital equipment, made her feel faint.

She couldn’t stifle her sharp cry when the nurse shifted the monitor and its screen came into view.

His pulse was racing, the rhythm irregular.

His oxygen sats were dropping.

He was in shock, and he was getting worse by the second.

The orderlies angled the gurney toward the door and pulled it forward, with the nurse managing the portable electronic equipment and IV stands.

They paused in front of Kate, though she could sense their tension. “Just a second,” she whispered.

She took a half step forward and touched Jared’s cheek. His face was ashen, with a laceration from cheekbone to jaw, and white bandaging covered his forehead and hair. With every fiber of her being she wanted to hold him. Tell him all the things she should have said long ago. But the grim faces of the staff told her that every moment was critical.