Page 8 of Last Dance, Second Chance

Very gingerly, she attempted to stand. She let out a squeak as her foot gave way beneath her and promptly sat down again. She was used to pain as a dancer, used to working through it. But her foot really bloody hurt.

She managed to pick up Monty’s lead so he wouldn’t run off again, though he seemed determined to stay by her side now. She wouldn’t be able to walk back to her parents’ house, especially with Monty. Could she make it slowly back to the gate and organise a cab to meet her there and take her to the hospital?

“Don’t move,” the man called from the footpath.

“I’m fine. I just need a minute,” Jessica replied through clenched teeth.

“No, you’re not,” said the man, moving closer to her. “You’re hurt. Stay still, I’m coming down to you.”

Worried he’d start having a go at her, Jessica explained, “Monty’s not my dog. I’m walking him for my dad, who didn’t tell me he was so badly behaved. I’m looking after him while my parents are away.”

The man made his way to her. “Where does it hurt?” he asked.

“My foot,” Jessica said.

“Do you mind if I take a look?” Seeing the unsure look on Jessica’s face, he explained, “I’m a doctor.”

Jessica nodded her consent and winced as he gently removed her trainer and sock. He carefully examined it, asking her to tell him exactly where the pain was.

“You’re going to have to get this checked out. It looks like it’s probably a break,” he declared.

Jessica’s stomach rolled as terror threatened to engulf her. She swallowed hard, forcing her emotions down.

“I will,” she managed to mutter.

“Let’s get you standing up,” the man said, holding out his hand to help her up.

“I’m all right,” Jessica insisted. This was embarrassing, and she’d really rather that he left her alone so she could somehow make it back along the path by herself and at her own pace and have the luxury of not having to put on a brave face.

“No, you’re not,” he replied, firmly. “If you keep hold of your dog’s lead, I’ll carry you to my car.”

“You don’t have to do that!”

“You could do more damage if you attempt to walk on it now. If you’d rather do that, I’ll gladly leave you alone...”

“I don’t want to do any more damage,” admitted Jessica.

She accepted his offered hand, and once she was on her feet and sure she had Monty firmly by the lead, Jessica found herself swept up into the man’s arms. Her foot jarred a little and she bit her lip, not wanting to complain, but the man noticed. “Sorry,” he said, his dark brown eyes meeting hers and taking her mind off the pain for an all too brief moment. “I’m being as gentle as I can.”

He walked carefully back up the bank, his dog following dutifully behind. Monty looked momentarily confused but seemed happy to go along with this strange new way of going for a walk.

We must make quite a sight, Jessica reflected. Such a strange procession. They rejoined the path, and the man adjusted Jessica in his arms. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes, thanks. Are you sure I’m not too heavy for you?”

“I’m fine. You’re tiny.”

He began walking down the path. He smelled of sandalwood and coffee, Jessica noticed, and she found herself closing her eyes and relaxing into his grasp. She must be in shock. How could she be thinking about what some random stranger smelled like at a time like this?

“I’m Nathan, by the way,” her rescuer said.

Jessica opened her eyes, embarrassed that she might have been spotted getting so relaxed in his arms.

“I’m Jessica.”

“Jessica Stone,” Nathan confirmed.

“Yes. How did you know that?”

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