Coltrain's Proposal. Diana Palmer

mode of dress and her hairstyle. Just because she’d loosened that glorious hair tonight didn’t mean that she’d suddenly become uninhibited. Nonetheless, the change disturbed him, because it was unexpected.

      “Copper’s got a new girl, I see,” Drew said with a grin. “That’s Nickie Bolton,” he added. “She works as a nurse’s aide at the hospital.”

      “I didn’t recognize her out of uniform,” Lou murmured.

      “I did,” he said. “She’s lovely, isn’t she?”

      She nodded amiably. “Very young, too,” she added with an indulgent smile.

      He took her hand gently and smiled down at her. “You aren’t exactly over the hill yourself,” he teased.

      She smiled up at him with warm eyes. “You’re a nice man, Drew.”

      Across the room, a redheaded man’s grip tightened ominously on a glass of punch. For over a year, Louise had avoided even his lightest touch. A few days ago, she’d thrown off his hand violently. But there she stood not only allowing Drew to hold her hand, but actually smiling at him. She’d never smiled at Coltrain that way; she’d never smiled at him any way at all.

      His companion tapped him on the shoulder.

      “You’re with me, remember?” she asked with a pert smile. “Stop staring daggers at your partner. You’re off duty. You don’t have to fight all the time, do you?”

      He frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

      “Everyone knows you hate her,” Nickie said pleasantly. “It’s common gossip at the hospital. You rake her over the coals and she walks around the corridors, red in the face and talking to herself. Well, most of the time, anyway. Once, Dr. Simpson found her crying in the nursery. But she doesn’t usually cry, no matter how bad she hurts. She’s pretty tough, in her way. I guess she’s had to be, huh? Even if there are more women in medical school these days, you don’t see that many women doctors yet. I’ll bet she had to fight a lot of prejudice when she was in medical school.”

      That came as a shock. He’d never seen Lou cry until today, and he couldn’t imagine her being upset at any temperamental display of his. Or was it, he pondered uneasily, just that she’d learned how not to show her wounds to him?

      Chapter 3

      At dinner, Lou sat with Drew, as far away from Coltrain and his date as she could get. She listened attentively to the speakers and whispered to Drew in the spaces between speakers. But it was torture to watch Nickie’s small hand smooth over Coltrain’s, to see her flirt with him. Lou didn’t know how to flirt. There were a lot of things she didn’t know. But she’d learned to keep a poker face, and she did it very well this evening. The one time Coltrain glanced down the table toward her, he saw nothing on her face or in her eyes that could tell him anything. She was unreadable.

      After the meeting, she let Drew hold her hand as they walked out of the restaurant. Behind them, Coltrain was glaring at her with subdued fury.

      When they made it to the parking lot, she found that the other couple had caught up with them.

      “Nice bit of surgery this morning, Copper,” Drew remarked. “You do memorable stitches. I doubt if Mrs. Blake will even have a scar to show around.”

      He managed a smile and held Nickie’s hand all the tighter. “She was adamant about that,” he remarked. “It seems that her husband likes perfection.”

      “He’ll have a good time searching for it in this imperfect world,” Drew replied. “I’ll see you in the morning. And I’d like your opinion on my little strep-throat patient. His mother wants the whole works taken out, tonsils and adenoids, but he doesn’t have strep often and I don’t like unnecessary surgery. Perhaps she’d listen to you.”

      “Don’t count on it,” Copper said dryly. “I’ll have a look if you like, though.”

      “Thanks.”

      “My pleasure.” He glanced toward Lou, who hadn’t said a word. “You were ten minutes late this morning,” he added coldly.

      “Oh, I overslept,” she replied pleasantly. “It wears me out to follow the EMTs around looking for work.”

      She gave him a cool smile and got into the car before he realized that she’d made a joke, and at his expense.

      “Be on time in the morning,” he admonished before he walked away with Nickie on his arm.

      “On time,” Lou muttered beside Drew in the comfortable Ford he drove. Her hands crushed her purse. “I’ll give him on time! I’ll be sitting in his parking spot at eight-thirty on the dot!”

      “He does it on purpose,” he told her as he started the car. “I think he likes to make you spark at him.”

      “He’s overjoyed that I’m leaving,” she muttered. “And so am I!”

      He gave her a quick glance and hid his smile. “If you say so.”

      She twisted her small purse in her lap, fuming, all the way back to her small house.

      “I haven’t been good company, Drew,” she said as he walked her to the door. “I’m sorry.”

      He patted her shoulder absently. “Nothing wrong with the company,” he said, correcting her. He smiled down at her. “But you really do rub Copper the wrong way, don’t you?” he added thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed that antagonism from a distance, but tonight is the first time I’ve seen it at close range. Is he always like that?”

      She nodded. “Always, from the beginning. Well, not quite,” she confessed, remembering. “From last Christmas.”

      “What happened last Christmas?”

      She studied him warily.

      “I won’t tell him,” he promised. “What happened?”

      “He tried to kiss me under the mistletoe and I, well, I sort of ducked and pulled away.” She flushed. “He rattled me. He does, mostly. I get shaky when he comes too close. He’s so forceful, and so physical. Even when he wants to talk to me, he’s forever trying to grab me by the wrist or a sleeve. It’s as if he knows how much it disturbs me, so he does it on purpose, just to make me uncomfortable.”

      He reached down and caught her wrist very gently, watching her face distort and feeling the instinctive, helpless jerk of her hand.

      He let go at once. “Tell me about it, Lou.”

      With a wan smile, she rubbed her wrist. “No. It’s history.”

      “It isn’t, you know. Not if it makes you shaky to have people touch you…”

      “Not everyone, just him,” she muttered absently.

      His eyebrows lifted, but she didn’t seem to be aware of what she’d just confessed.

      She sighed heavily. “I’m so tired,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck. “I don’t usually get so tired from even the longest days.”

      He touched her forehead professionally and frowned. “You’re a bit warm. How do you feel?”

      “Achy. Listless.” She grimaced. “It’s probably that virus that’s going around. I usually get at least one every winter.”

      “Go to bed and if you aren’t better tomorrow, don’t go in,” he advised. “Want me to prescribe something?”

      She shook her head. “I’ll be okay. Nothing does any good for a virus, you know that.”

      He chuckled. “Not even a sugarcoated pill?”

      “I can do without a placebo. I’ll get some rest. Thanks for tonight. I enjoyed it.”

      “So did I. I haven’t done much socializing since