by Stella Brie
As my breathing techniques start working, I pull my mind back from the ledge by using my lists. First I list the 206 bones in the body, then the 200 distinct types of cells, and as I get into the list of 650 muscles, I finally feel calm and in control.
Love, guilt, anger, and grief are all swirling around in my brain. The guilt, more than anything, destroys my peace, so I get up. I can’t sleep, I can’t find a bottle and oblivion, so I might as well get up, jump in the shower, and try to wash these memories down the drain.
The hotel offers a free buffet starting at seven, so I go downstairs to grab some coffee and breakfast. My appetite is fairly non-existent, but I still portion out a spoonful of scrambled eggs and slice of toast. Thankful for this piece of normalcy, I find a spot in the sunshine to eat my breakfast and chase away the darkness.
After I check out, I wait inside the hotel for a few minutes while I remotely start the SUV. I can’t stand the cold, and while it might be March, it’s still winter in Montana. I glance at my phone and check the traffic and route to my destination, just to make sure no accidents or road work will cause a delay or detour. Stepping outside, I inhale a brisk breath of air.
Freaking A, it’s cold!
I jog to my vehicle, put my overnight bag in the back seat, and get comfortable for today’s drive. My new “temporary” home is about three hours away in a tiny town nestled between Bozeman and Helena called Lockeland Valley, Montana. I’m hoping to get in around eleven so I can look around town before meeting Lev at the practice.
CHAPTER 2
KATE
Entering the city limits, a sign tells me the population of Lockeland Valley is 24,337. Temporarily 24,338, of course. I’m not sure I’ve ever lived in a town this small. I’m guessing everyone knows everyone, which could be bad or good. I don’t relish the idea of others peering into my life, but it should help in quickly getting to know my patients and neighbors.
Reaching Main Street, I take a left and drive through the small downtown area. There are several restaurants, a couple clothing boutiques, a mercantile store, an ice cream shop, and a few other miscellaneous stores. I was expecting a more rural atmosphere, but all the stores and cars seem to be upscale. This might not be too bad for a city girl like me, after all.
Spotting a parking spot, I pull in and pick up my phone to text my mom and let her know I’ve made it safely to Lockeland Valley. I then glance at my watch and note I have a little over half an hour before I need to meet Lev, which gives me just enough time to stroll through downtown and check out the shops. There are a few people out strolling, but not many. I notice the shops are well-stocked with spring merchandise and the restaurants are upscale with an eclectic mix of menus. After walking up one side of town and back down to my vehicle, I realize I have about fifteen minutes to get to the practice. It should be close to here, but I’m not sure exactly where it’s located. I map the address and realize it’s about a half-mile to the east of where I’m standing. Normally I’d walk over, but Lev is supposed to take me to my new “home” afterward, and I’m not sure if that’s close to the doctor’s office or not.
Driving over, I’m a bit nervous. You’d think I’d get used to the unknown since I move every few weeks or months, but new places always make me nervous. Plus, there’s always the chance someone will recognize me from the news. Besides the police and reporters (who I ignored), nobody ever asked me directly about the events of that day. But people tend to take the TV commentary and use it to judge me and determine my guilt. When that happens, the assignment “suddenly” ends, and I’m reassigned. I hope that doesn’t happen here, as I’m looking forward to staying in the same place for a few months.
My GPS pings my arrival, and I take a few deep breaths after I park. The practice is in an absolutely gorgeous two-story modern farmhouse. Enormous windows sit cased in black siding, capped with a black, metal roof. Wow. It’s breathtaking and totally unexpected, considering most practices are in plain brick office type buildings.
Opening the door, I step into a large lounge that looks to be the waiting area. Several individuals turn their heads and check me out as I enter. Smiling at them, I turn and close the door. Looking to my left, I see an office area with two ladies behind the counter. One’s younger, maybe around twenty years old, and the other is significantly older with grey hair. Fifty? Both ladies are giggling and blushing as they talk to the guy standing with them.
My gaze drifts over, and I’m quickly captivated myself. He’s a little over six feet, with a dark complexion and black hair cut in a military-style, shaved close on the sides and thicker on top. His arms, crossed in front of him, bulge with muscle, and I think I see a few tattoos on those biceps. Worn jeans and a black T-shirt are molded to his body. Hard, muscular, and fit. And hot. Seriously hot. I don’t think I’ve seen a body...actually, I don’t think I’ve seen a man like this, except in the movies.
As I am checking him out, his head turns, and piercing dark green eyes stare into my own. He quirks an eyebrow as he catches me staring at him, and the two ladies look over to see who’s stolen his attention. The younger lady - a girl, really - looks over at me and narrows her eyes.
Raising my eyebrow at both of them, I quickly introduce myself. “Hello, I’m Dr. Kate Michaels, the replacement while Dr. Bradford is out.” I pause and study their faces to see if they recognize me. While most people don’t, the few who have recognized me have always caused trouble. Thankfully, they just seem surprised to see me.
“I thought we were getting a male doctor?” the young girl sneers as she looks to the older woman.
The older lady looks at her and rolls her eyes. Holding out her hand to shake, she states, “I’m Paula, and this is Brittany. We manage the office and the billing. Welcome to Lockeland Valley.”
After shaking her hand, I look at Brittany, but she makes no move towards me. Good thing I’m not here to make friends. I then look to the guy, who’s staring intently at me. “Are you Lev Coleman?” I ask, taking a wild guess.
“Yes, I’m Lev. Nice to meet you,” he rumbles, holding out his hand to shake mine. As I look into his eyes, I’m surprised by the warmth I see in them. While he looks like the epitome of a hard-core soldier, his eyes tell the truth of his nature, and all I feel is the urge to step a little closer.
His firm grip holds my hand as he continues speaking. “My brothers and I are working to keep Dr. Bradford’s life and practice going until he can get back on his feet. Let’s go into his office and talk a bit, then I can give you a tour and show you where you’ll be staying.”
As he releases my hand, I notice it’s tingling a bit. Rubbing it for a second, I shake it off and follow him back to the office.
As we reach the hallway, Brittany rushes up to us. “Wait! What do I tell the patients?”
“The patients in the waiting room?” I ask, frowning as I turn around to survey them. “Are they not here for another doctor or the nurse?”
“We don’t have another doctor. Dr. Bradford is the only doctor in town,” she drawls slowly, as if I’m stupid instead of new.
“Is there a nurse here?”
“Yeah, Sarah’s in the back,” she answers, without moving to get her.
“Wonderful. Can you go get her for me?”
Brittany looks at me for a second like she’s going to refuse, but after glancing at Paula and Lev, she does as I ask and walks back to find Sarah. She comes back two minutes later with a tiny but beautiful platinum blonde woman.
“Hi Dr. Michaels, I’m Sarah,” she introduces herself. “I’ve been Dr. Bradford’s nurse for the last three years, and I’m thrilled you’re here to help while he’s out.”
“Sarah, it’s nice to meet you. I’m hoping we can use your knowledge and expertise for a minute?” Drawing her closer, I explain, “Apparently, we have patients scheduled for this afternoon. I don’t really want to inconvenience anyone, but I’m not prepared to see all these patients today. Ideally, I like to study a patient’s history prior to t
heir visit, unless it’s not possible due to urgency or illness. Would you mind identifying those who have an urgent need and those who can possibly wait until tomorrow or next week?” I ask. “Once you have a final list, we’ll regroup together and look through their charts, so I can get your thoughts on their backgrounds.”
“Absolutely,” she responds, approval showing in her eyes.
Turning around, I walk over to the waiting area and address the room. “Ladies and gentlemen, and little kids,” I smile and wait for them to look up at me, “I’m Dr. Kate Michaels, and I’ll be your physician while Dr. Bradford recovers. Unfortunately, there’s been a bit of a mix-up. As you can see, I’ve just arrived today, and without knowing your history a bit, I’d like to be sure and give you the best care possible. If your visit is urgent or this is the only day you can take off from work or get a babysitter, I’m happy to take care of you today. There will be about a thirty-minute delay, but we should be able to see you. If your visit is not urgent and you have flexibility in your schedule, we’d like to ask you to reschedule for tomorrow or another day more convenient for you. We appreciate your support and patience as we transition the practice. If you can reschedule, please see Brittany at the front desk. If you need to keep your appointment, please see Sarah, and we’ll get you back to the rooms shortly. Thank you.”
Brittany scowls and flounces off. Sarah smiles and steps over to speak to the crowd forming on her left. Lev stares at me for a second, then nods his head as if I’d passed some unknown test. He motions to the hallway, and I follow him back to Dr. Bradford’s office.
As I enter the office, I look around at my new space for the foreseeable future. Thick, built-in shelving, painted dark grey, covers the wall behind the desk. Each shelf is full of pictures, medical tomes, and other odds and ends. A large wooden desk, in a natural light wood, sits directly in front of the shelving and presents a nice contrast to the dark backdrop. On the desk is a tablet and laptop, and a few pens and papers. In front of the desk, two camel leather swivel chairs sit side by side. In the corner, opposite where I’m standing, is a gold bar cart with a few bottles of whiskey on top, including a very nice 25-year-old Macallan, if I’m not mistaken. This is definitely a man’s office. You would think it would feel dark or dreary, but it only feels masculine, with touches of warmth. It makes me wonder about the man himself. Did he decorate the office himself, or did he pay someone to do it?
A throat clears, and I look over at Lev. His expression is bleak as his gaze moves across the room, stopping on individual pictures or pieces. Memories play in his eyes, but as he turns to look at me, he wipes the expression off his face. Given the sensitivity of the situation, I sit in one of the swivel chairs and motion for him to take the other. As he sits down, I realize how close together this puts us, but I'm reluctant to move away.
He studies me for a few seconds. “You handled that situation really well,” he praises. “With consideration and compassion, but also with a firm hand. I’m impressed.”
“Thank you. Unfortunately, I often find myself in this situation. The staff doesn’t know what to do, so they fall back into their regular routines. It’s fine. We’ll figure it out and get a temporary system in place to help things run smoothly. However, it doesn’t leave us much time to walk through things right now. What are the essentials I need to know today, and what can wait until later?” I question as I look at my watch.
Lev hands me a piece of paper with instructions typed on it. “Here’s the security code for the practice, and the security code for your apartment. The apartment is upstairs, and I’ll walk through it with you in a second. My brothers and I have power of attorney, so we’ll pay the bills and manage all the necessary business-related items. As long as you can manage the medical practice part of it, we should be fine. Anything that comes up, you can call me, Shaw, or Lowell. I’ve put all our numbers on that sheet. Shaw’s a rancher and hard to get a hold of during the day, but he’s available at night. Lowell’s a writer and can be available any time, although you may have to ring him more than once, as he tends to live in his own world. Daytime is best for me, but I own the bar down the street called The Black and Gold if you need something at night or just want to come in for a drink.”
We talk through a few other essential items, then he leads me to the back of the practice and up a set of stairs. At the top of the landing are a door and keypad. He asks me to punch in the apartment security code. Squeezing past him to get to the landing, I feel every line of his hard body brush up against mine, causing tingles to race down my body. I close my eyes for a microsecond and savor the shivery feeling; it’s been a long time since I felt physical attraction. I take a slow, deep breath and turn around to face the keypad. As I turn, my butt grazes against his front, and I hear him inhale sharply. I quickly type in the code and wait for the green light per the instructions in my hand. Once the keyboard lights up, I open the door and hear him exhale slowly behind me. It takes a moment to clear my cloudy thoughts, so I miss what he says in the next few seconds.
“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”
He smiles knowingly and gives me the instructions again. “When you get inside, enter the second code, or an alarm will trigger. I’ve already entered it this time.”
I make a quick note on my “cheat sheet.” Finally coherent enough to look around, I see a beautiful apartment. A living room is situated off to the left in front of a large bank of windows, which are letting in a tremendous amount of light. In front of the couch stands a tall fireplace, wrapped in white shiplap, with a TV above it. To my right, in the kitchen, is a massive black island covered in a white marble slab, with eight barstools situated around it. Running my hands over the sleek marble in appreciation, I’m guessing this is where I’ll eat. The kitchen includes all the amenities and aesthetics of my dream kitchen: White shaker cabinets to the ceiling; gold drawer pulls; and gorgeous state-of-the-art appliances, including a gas stove. This kitchen tempts me to pull out my very dusty cookbook.
Lev gives me a quick tour of the bedroom and bathroom (also gorgeous), then asks for the keys to my vehicle so he can bring up my luggage.
As I hand them over, I hold his hand for just a second. “I’m very sorry your friend, Dr. Bradford, had such a terrible accident. If there’s anything I can do to help, beyond managing the practice, please let me know.”
He rubs his thumb across my hand for a second before taking the keys and heading towards the stairs. I follow him downstairs so I can start seeing the remaining patients.
“Mine is the black Range Rover,” I call out to him. “Bags are in the back seat and trunk area. Thank you for bringing my luggage in, and for all the information. If I need anything, and I’m sure something will probably come up, I’ll be sure to call.” Even though I’d just held his hand, my hand automatically reaches for his again. Good grief.
Lev looks down at my hand for a second, then reaches out to shake it. As his hand clasps mine, he looks at me and smiles a small, secretive smile. “You’re a pleasant surprise, Dr. Michaels. I’m looking forward to getting to know you. Don’t forget to come visit me at the bar. Drinks are on me. Also, before I forget, we stocked up your fridge, so you should be fine for a day or two.” With those words, he goes out to get my luggage. I stand there for a second, holding my tingling hand.
What in the world am I doing?
CHAPTER 3
LEV
After setting Dr. Kate Michaels’ bags in her new apartment, I head home. While she looked like the picture in her file, it didn’t even come close to conveying just how beautiful she was in person. Blonde hair, green eyes and a tall, athletic body. One thing was bugging me, though. While certainly beautiful, she couldn’t hide the shadows in her eyes. An air of sadness or pain was wrapped around her like a cloak this morning, stirring up my need to protect her against whatever or whoever was causing her pain.
Frowning, I run through her background in my head. Nothing in her background check seems to suggest a
cause. I need to take another look, and maybe ask Lowell if we should do a deeper check.
“Eagle’s Nest,” the sign announcing the name of our ranch, stands tall at the entrance of our driveway. I’m looking forward to a night in and dinner with my brothers. The last few weeks have been exhausting as we ran from home to hospital to work and sometimes to the practice. For once, we’re on the same schedule. We’ll eat an early dinner, and then after dinner we’ll all go to the hospital and visit with Thayer for a bit. They say talking to him while he’s in a coma helps. The last few nights, we told him about the difficulties we’ve had finding a new travel doctor to cover his practice. Tonight, I’ll enjoy telling him about the delightful Dr. Michaels, who’s so easily taken charge with his staff. Thayer Bradford hates people messing with his stuff or people. I grin. Maybe it’ll bug him enough that he’ll get his ass in gear and wake up.
Pulling up to the garage, I see several other vehicles parked inside, including a dark green heavy-duty pickup truck stamped with the Eagle’s Nest logo and black luxury SUV. It looks like both Shaw and Lowell are already home.
Closing the garage, I head in to start dinner. Going outside to the back porch, I get the grill going. Coming back into the kitchen, I open the refrigerator and pull out the steaks that have been marinating all day. I quickly prep them to go on the grill and put them to the side. Chopping up several vegetables, I add garlic, salt, pepper, olive oil, and Italian cheese and spread them out on a sheet pan. Popping them into the oven to roast, I go to the pantry and grab a loaf of French bread, slice and butter it, and pop it into the oven. Glancing at my watch, I give the vegetables a few more minutes before grilling the steaks. Going downstairs to the wine cellar, I pick out a Malbec for Lowell and myself. Shaw typically drinks beer or bourbon, so he can get his own. Back upstairs, I open the bottle of wine and pour it into a decanter to aerate.
