by Eve Gaddy
“It might be. The fact that he had to come to the hospital was good. From what he’s said, he doesn’t go to the doctor unless it’s unavoidable.”
“Yeah, that’s an understatement. Jack tries but Clay’s pretty damn stubborn.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “How much help is he going to need?”
“That depends on a lot of factors. It would be beneficial if you or someone else he trusts can go with him to his first post-op appointment as well as his first appointment with your brother. Jack is his primary care physician, isn’t he?”
“Technically. I think the last time he saw Jack was five or six years ago. As for going with him, that’s going to be tough. Clay’s not going to go for that. I can hear him now telling me he doesn’t need a babysitter and he can damn well take care of himself.”
“It’s very important for him to have a support system. He’ll also need help getting to and from his chemo appointments.”
“Understood.”
“Will he be able to depend on his job?”
“His job?” Dylan asked, puzzled. “You mean keeping his job?”
“Yes.” Not everyone was able to keep a person on while he went through chemo and any other treatments the cancer might require.
“Of course he’ll keep his job. I told you, he’s family.”
“He could be out for quite some time,” she warned him.
“So I’ll hire temporary help. Until Clay gets back on his feet.”
“I’m glad. The less stress he has to handle the better. Knowing he can count on his job, and you, will help.”
“I can’t guarantee he’ll have no stress but we’ll take care of him. I’m the one who’s going to have the problem. Clay is my right-hand man. He helps me run the breeding operation. He’s really great with the horses.”
“I thought a horse kicked him?”
“That’s right. But it can happen to anyone. Besides, this was my problem child who kicked him.”
“Your problem child?”
“My new stallion. He’s got some issues.”
Just then a woman walked by, bumped into Dylan and dropped her cup beside him. He caught the cup before it hit the ground and handed it to the woman.
“Oh, Dylan, I’m so sorry. I’m the clumsiest thing,” she said. “Thank goodness it’s a cold drink and not hot coffee.”
“No harm done. How have you been, Kayla?”
The woman, a very pretty busty brunette, tossed long, dark hair over her shoulder. “I’m doing fine. I haven’t seen you at Grey’s lately.”
“No, I haven’t been in much. Kayla Harrison, meet Dr. Samantha Striker,” he said, motioning between the two.
“Nice to meet you,” Sam said.
“You too,” Kayla said unenthusiastically, barely glancing at Sam. In fact, she looked a little peeved.
Sam hid a smile, wondering if the woman thought she and Dylan were more than acquaintances and that explained her air of annoyance.
Kayla’s expression changed to alarm. “Wait a minute. Doctor Striker? You’re not sick, are you Dylan?” She put her hand on his shoulder.
“Not a bit,” Dylan said cheerfully.
“Oh, well that’s good.” She glanced at Sam, as if expecting her to leave.
Sam simply smiled and stayed put.
“Good to see you, Kayla.”
“You too, Dylan.” With a last, reluctant glance at Dylan, she left.
“Should I have excused myself?” Sam asked curiously.
“What? No, why would you?”
“I gathered your friend would have appreciated some time alone with you.”
“Kayla? I don’t know why she would.”
Sam tilted her head and studied him for a moment. Was he really that oblivious? “Because she likes you?”
He looked surprised. “I don’t think so. Not that way, anyway.”
The hell she didn’t. And who could blame her? Not me. Dylan Gallagher was very appealing and apparently, a nice guy. Not that she was looking for a man, nice or otherwise. Regardless of what her friend Bianca thought, Sam’s biological clock wasn’t ticking. She liked men a lot. Unfortunately, her past entanglements had not worked out well.
“Getting back to Clay,” Dylan said, “we’ll take care of him.”
“Good. The better his support network, the better his outcome is likely to be.”
“So they say,” he said skeptically. “Sometimes it doesn’t matter.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from personal experience.”
He hesitated, then shrugged. “My mother died when I was six. Lung cancer. She never smoked a day in her life. And she had a decent support system, at least according to my brothers, she did. I was too little to understand much of what went on, but I understood when she died.”
Sam put a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry, Dylan.”
He shrugged again. “Don’t bother telling me things are different now and that there have been huge advances in cancer care. I’ve heard it all. From my brothers.”
“They’re right. But it’s like you said earlier, the odds don’t matter if you’re one of the unlucky ones.” She patted his arm. “All I can tell you is it will help Clay more if you can be positive. At least around Clay. And it might help you too.”
He didn’t say anything but she could see he was still brooding. It was hard to walk the line between reassuring someone and being too optimistic in a situation that could turn out badly. “Would you feel better if we sent him to an oncologist for a second opinion? I know of a good one in Billings.”
He gave her a wry grin. “No, I trust you and Jack. More importantly, Clay trusts Jack, at least as much as he trusts any doctor. Besides, we’re going to have enough trouble getting Clay to his treatments here, much less in Billings or Bozeman.”
Chapter Three
A few days after talking to Samantha Striker at the Java Café, Dylan led his new stallion out to the round pen. He should have known not to buy a horse named Trouble. But one look at him and Dylan had fallen for him.
He was a beauty. A beautiful buckskin Norwegian Fjord. Creamy tan coat, black stockings and nose, with the distinctive bi-color black and white mane of the Norwegian Fjord. Officially the color was called brunblakk. Or brown dun in English. Dylan had bought him planning to breed him but Trouble was, well, trouble.
Trouble didn’t care for people. Poor Clay was proof of that.
The damn horse had bitten people, kicked people, and in general was difficult as hell. Dylan had even asked Sean, his horse-whisperer brother, to help him out but Trouble was one horse who didn’t respond to Sean’s magic way with horses. Dylan was aware Trouble had been abused, though his previous owner insisted the horse came to him squirrelly and afraid of people and that he’d had no hand in abusing the animal. At any rate, Trouble had come to the Gallagher ranch with a bad attitude and scars to match. Sean recommended he keep trying, and thought the horse would come around given time.
Trouble hadn’t exactly come around, but he and Dylan had come to an uneasy truce. Uneasy because Dylan didn’t trust him not to kick the shit out of him if given half a chance. Dylan was still working on breaking him and, frankly, he didn’t have time to spend coddling one animal. But neither did he want to let him go. Something about Trouble got to him and Dylan had always been a sucker for an animal in need. Whether he knew it or not, Trouble needed people.
Dylan would just have to be patient and hope he found the key to Trouble’s heart. He cooled down Trouble, groomed him and put him up. Then headed for the hospital to see his friend.
When he got there, Clay was in a piss-poor mood. Clay didn’t want to talk about his cancer. Not to Dylan and, he suspected, not to anyone. Dylan knew he’d seen Jack by now, but he wasn’t sure his brother had been able to get through to him. Clay put them off, saying he’d do something about the cancer after he got out of the hospital. One problem at a time, he’d told them.
Whenever Dylan visited, the first thing Clay asked fo
r was an update on Trouble. There wasn’t a lot to say other than he’s the same ornery stallion he’s been since I got him.
Still, there was one good thing about Clay being at the hospital. It gave Dylan a chance to see Samantha when he visited his friend.
Clay gave him shit about it every time Dylan came to see him. He knew damn well his boss was there to see Sam every bit as much as him. Dylan saw no point in arguing since Clay was spot on in his analysis.
He would have kept a close eye on Clay anyway, but the chance of seeing Samantha made the trip into town even more worthwhile.
Sam had put in a long day in surgery and since she had that night and the next day off she had big plans. They revolved around sleep, ordering pizza to be delivered and not getting out of her jammies until she had to go to work on Sunday.
On her way out of the hospital she ran into Bianca. They talked for a minute and as they parted Bianca said, “I’ll see you at seven.”
Mystified, Sam looked at her.
“You forgot,” her friend said accusingly.
She started to deny it but quickly decided there was no point to that. “What did I forget?”
“My party. Tonight at Grey’s Saloon.”
“Your—” Shit. She broke off as she remembered. “Of course I didn’t forget your birthday. What kind of friend does that?” Me, she thought guiltily. Going to Bianca’s birthday bash had so not been in her plans.
Her friend, who knew perfectly well that Sam had completely forgotten, merely raised an eyebrow. “I can count on you then?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” Crap. If she hurried she might get a nap in before she went. Then she remembered she didn’t have a present for Bianca so that blew that idea out of the water as well.
Sam headed to Marietta Western Wear. Even though she had grown up in Montana, as far as Sam knew, her friend had never even been on a horse. But she liked to dress western. It didn’t take long to pick out a satin western-style shirt with lots of bling. Exactly the kind of thing Bianca would love. She hoped, anyway.
She was waiting for the clerk to wrap it when Dylan Gallagher walked in. This was at least the fifth time she’d seen him in as many days. Several times at the hospital when he was visiting Clay, once at Java Café, and today.
Dylan wore a cowboy hat, scuffed boots, blue jeans and a thick shearling coat. He looked like exactly what he was. A hardworking cowboy. Damn, the man was hot. He was bound to know it too. But he didn’t seem conceited or full of himself, she thought, remembering his demeanor at the coffee shop. No, not conceited at all. She knew why people liked him. So far, she couldn’t tell that there was anything not to like about him.
That annoyed the shit out of her.
He took off his hat and smiled at her. His hair was a dark brown, almost black, wavy and reaching to his collar. He hadn’t shaved but on him it looked good. I’m not falling for that good old boy charm. Been there, done that, and I’m not doing it again.
But there was more to him than just the charm. He cared. About his friends, his family, his horses.
There was bound to be something wrong with him. Otherwise he’d be married by now. She knew he was the youngest Gallagher, but she didn’t know exactly how old he was. Had to be late twenties or early thirties.
“Hi, Doc. How are you?”
“Hi, Dylan. I’m good.” His eyes were green. A kind of dreamy moss green, rather than emerald or jade. She wondered if they changed color with his mood. “Tell me something, Dylan.”
“Ask away.”
“How did we go more than six months without ever meeting but since I operated on Clay we’ve seen each other almost daily?”
He grinned, slow and sexy. “Just lucky, I guess.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Did you plan this?”
“Plan what?”
“Running into me here. Running into me all the time.” Jeesh. She sounded paranoid.
Dylan laughed outright. “No, but it’s an idea. Still got that boyfriend?”
She had an urge to tell him the truth. Instead she said, “Same answer as the first time you asked me.”
“Too bad. I’m still hoping.”
The clerk came back and gave Sam her package. “Dylan, hi. We haven’t seen you around in a while.”
The girl all but batted her eyes at him. It didn’t appear to affect him. He smiled and said, “Yep, the ranch has been keeping me busy.”
She placed her hand on his arm and gave it a little pat. “Lily’s having a party tomorrow night. You should come.”
“I’ll do my best,” Dylan said.
“Do that.” She smiled and left to help another customer.
“You don’t have any intention of going, do you?” Sam asked him.
“Probably not.” He considered her a moment. “Why? Did you want to go with me?”
“Boyfriend, remember?”
“Oh, yeah. Forgot about him.”
She knew damn well he hadn’t forgotten since she’d told him five minutes before but she didn’t call him on it. She had a feeling he knew, or at least suspected, that her boyfriend was purely fictional.
“Good to see you, Doc.” He held open the door for her and she went out, conscious of the temptation to find out if he was any different from the men in her past.
Maybe he was, though she doubted it. She had better sense than to fall for a charming, good-looking and very hot cowboy. Didn’t she?
Chapter Four
Dylan probably wouldn’t have gone to Bianca Whitehall’s birthday bash, but he had a good reason to be at the party tonight. And the reason was sitting over at the bar in Grey’s Saloon looking like a million bucks in a short skirt, cowboy boots and with her pretty blonde hair flowing free past her shoulders.
Samantha Striker fascinated him. More every time he saw her. At first he’d put it down to the fact that she kept turning him down. He was almost a hundred percent certain that her boyfriend was a figment of her imagination. But he’d been rejected before and normally he shrugged and went on about his business. He couldn’t do that with Samantha.
The fact that he’d seen her almost daily for the past two weeks had pretty well made it impossible to forget about her. Not to mention she was Clay’s doctor. She’d given it to him straight the other day at Java Café. He appreciated that. But she’d also been compassionate both about Clay’s case and to him when he’d talked about his mother’s death.
Compassion was a common character trait among doctors. His brothers were doctors and they all had it. But there was something special about Samantha, even if he couldn’t quite pinpoint what that was.
It still surprised him that he’d mentioned his mother’s death to Samantha. He didn’t talk about it to a lot of people. Just his family and then only once in a while. And though he’d missed out on a lot growing up without a mother, his sister Glenna had done her best to mother him, even though she was only a little more than a year older than he was.
Glenna, who had disappeared from Argentina without a trace when she was accused of embezzlement. Damn, he was not going to think about Glenna tonight. The private detective was still looking for her and beyond that there was nothing he could do to find her.
He shook off that depressing thought and walked over to the bar. “Hi, Doc.”
“Dylan? What—oh, that’s right. You and Bianca are old friends.”
“Do you need a refill?” he asked, gesturing at her beer.
“No, if I have more than one I’ll fall asleep and Bianca probably won’t talk to me for a week.”
“Long day?”
She sipped her beer and said, “Very.”
“Your boyfriend here tonight?” He glanced around as if he was looking for the guy.
“No. He lives in Dallas.”
“Dallas? So you’re doing the long-distance thing. Must be hard.”
She shrugged. “Jeff’s a doctor too. We’re both heavily involved in our careers.”
“Jeff. He has a name.”
“He must not get out here much. No one here seems to have met him.”
Her eyes narrowed and she frowned at him again. “Have you been asking around about me?”
“Settle down, Doc. I didn’t have to ask. It’s common knowledge.”
“I wish you wouldn’t call me Doc. My name is Samantha. Or Sam.”
“Sorry. Your guy is quite the mystery, Samantha. Lots of speculation about him.”
“That’s one of the things about small towns that annoys the snot out of me,” she said. “Everybody minds everyone else’s business.”
Dylan laughed. “You’ll get used to it. They don’t mean anything by it.”
“Ha. I’ve been here for months and I’m not used to it yet.”
Bianca came by just then. Dylan greeted her with a hug. “Happy birthday, Bianca.”
“Thanks. Dylan. I’m so glad you could come tonight.” They chatted a bit about the weather, the hospital and riding horses. “Isn’t that right, Sam?” Bianca said, including her in the conversation.
“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Isn’t what right?”
“You were telling me just the other day how much you missed riding.” Turning to Dylan, she said brightly, “Maybe she could ride one of your horses.”
Sam shot her friend a dirty look, which Bianca ignored. “Olivia Canaday has a stables. I can ride there,” Sam said.
“Oh, but you need to see Dylan’s horses. He raises Norwegian Fjords. They’re beautiful horses.”
“I’m sure they are, but—”
“She’s worried the boyfriend won’t like it,” Dylan told Bianca.
“Boyfriend? Oh, him. I’m sure Carson won’t mind. Will he, Sam?”
Sam looked like she wanted to punch Bianca. “His name is Jeff. Which you know perfectly well.”
“Damn. I never can remember his name.” She winked at Dylan and left.
Score another point for the boyfriend being bogus. Dylan did his best not to smile. “It’s no problem, Doc. I mean, Samantha. Bring him next time he’s in town and you can both ride.”
