Marrying Dr. Maverick

by Karen Rose Smith

  “It has to happen fast for Dad’s sake,” Brooks said matter-of-factly.

  “When are you going to tell him?”

  “Once we’re up and running. I don’t want him to think it’s something I won’t go through with. I intend to present it to him as a done deal.”

  Brooks’s cell phone buzzed. He took it from his belt and checked the caller ID. “I should take this. It’s the Kalispell clinic.”

  Jazzy nodded and went to find the paint brush, but she couldn’t help hearing Brooks say, “Clint can’t handle it?”

  He paused then added, “Yeah, I understand. Okay, it will take me about ten minutes.” When he ended the call, he just stared at Jazzy. “I have to drive to a ranch outside of Kalispell, but I don’t want to leave you here with this mess.”

  “No mess, just painting to be done.”

  “I don’t like leaving you here without a vehicle.”

  “Strickland’s is only a few blocks away. I can always call Cecilia or Dean if need be. Go, take care of whatever emergency has come up.”

  He came closer to her, so close she could see the rise and fall of his chest as he let out a long breath. He looked as if he wanted to...touch her and she wanted him to touch her.

  His voice was husky as he said, “You’re becoming indispensable.”

  Seriously she responded, “I don’t think I’ve ever been indispensable.”

  He cocked his head. “That’s hard to believe.”

  “In a large family, someone’s always there, ready to step in. Sometimes when I get home after time away, it feels like no one’s missed me. It’s hard to explain.”

  Now he did reach out and touch her face, his thumb rough on her cheek. “I’d miss you if you weren’t here.”

  “I shouldn’t have said what I did.” She could feel heat in her cheeks.

  “You can say whatever you want to me, Jazzy. Sometimes it’s easier to talk to strangers about the truth than to anyone else. Maybe that’s why we hooked up at the Ace in the Hole.”

  Hooked up. But they really hadn’t hooked up, not in that way. Still, she knew exactly what Brooks meant, and she couldn’t help but say, “You’re not a stranger anymore.”

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wondered if she should have said them. Maybe he didn’t feel the same way. But then his eyes darkened and he seemed as if he wanted to do more than touch her face, as if maybe he wanted to kiss her.

  “No, we’re not strangers anymore.”

  She tried to cover the excitement she was feeling, the heat and the speed of her racing pulse. “It’s hard to believe we’ve only known each other less than a week. I feel as if I’ve known you longer.”

  “Much longer than a few days,” he agreed, seemingly unable to look away. Then he appeared to remember he had something else to do, and someplace else he had to be. Whatever he’d been thinking and feeling got closed off. “I’d better get going. If there’s any problem, call me,” he reminded her.

  There was a problem. She was much too attracted to Brooks Smith. He’s a confirmed bachelor, she chastised herself. That was so hard to remember when he looked at her with his intense brown eyes.

  Chapter Five

  When Brooks stepped inside his Rust Creek Falls clinic—and he was beginning to think of it that way—he stopped short and just stared at Jazzy. She was sitting at the desk that had obviously been delivered when he was gone...in front of the wall that hadn’t been finished the last time he’d looked. She hadn’t just painted the trim, the baseboards, the door frames, she’d finished that wall, too. He didn’t know whether to shake her or... Go ahead and think it. He wanted to take her to bed.

  Not going to happen. He was her boss. They could never have a decent working relationship if they were involved, though that didn’t keep him from imagining what it would be like—bringing her into his condo, undressing her slowly, leading them both into pleasure. He’d wondered more than once about her romantic past, and maybe it would come up because he had a question for her about it.

  She stood when she saw him, all smiles. “I need to know if you’re going to rely on word of mouth to get business, or if I should investigate some other advertisement opportunities.” She had a pad and pen on the desk, jotting down ideas and the next items on a to-do list.

  “Are we going to talk about what you did here this morning?”

  “Not right now. There are more important things. I’ll need to know your budget for advertising. Maybe you can tell me what’s worked with the Kalispell clinic and what hasn’t. What I think will serve you well now is to provide some kind of service that your father can’t.”

  He’d been wrestling for the past few hours with recalcitrant cows. He’d washed off at an outside spigot but he still felt grimy, not at all as if he should be anywhere near Jazzy. Still, he approached her.

  “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”

  “You want to succeed, don’t you?”

  “Sure, I want the practice to succeed, but more than that, I want Dad to see the success of this practice as a relief for him.”

  “So what service doesn’t he provide?” she asked with that perky smile that made his whole body tense.

  Keeping his mind on the question, he answered, “Dad doesn’t do much work with small animals because he doesn’t have time. He sets up office hours but then he gets called away. Ranchers can’t bring horses and calves to him, so he goes to them. Traveling takes time. On top of that, Dad likes to gab. He spends a lot of time with his clients.”

  “Do you think that helps?”

  “Sometimes it might, sometimes it might not. For instance, the first time I went to Sam’s to help with his horses, we did spend a lot of time talking. I had to get a good feel for what was going on and what had happened to them. But since then, we talk very little, except if it’s about the animals. Dad, on the other hand, would make a point of spending time with Sam with each visit.”

  “So what you’re saying is that your dad’s appointments aren’t always on time.”

  “They’re rarely on time. When he has office hours, his waiting room fills up and patients can be there an hour and a half to two hours before he gets to them.”

  “So that’s a great place to start. His weakness can be our strength. We’ll have to figure out a way to make sure you keep your office appointments, and I’ll have to be certain I schedule them with the right amount of time.”

  “That envelope I gave you has a list of Kalispell services and the times that they schedule them. For instance, if you have a cat come in for an ear cleaning and a nail clip, that’s a fifteen-minute appointment. A yearly check to discuss problems, get vaccinations, maybe flea treatments, would take a half an hour. Get my drift?”

  “But I don’t think it can be that cut and dried,” she protested.

  “You’re right. After I get to know my patients, I can analyze their needs pretty accurately. I don’t want to overcharge just because they take up my time, either. It’s going to be a balance.”

  “I understand that.”

  He came around the side of the L-shaped desk unit. Jazzy was using a folding chair because the desk chair he’d bought wouldn’t be delivered until tomorrow.

  She ran her hand over the walnut finish on the desk. “I like this. It’s quality wood and sturdy. Your computer setup and printer should fit on here just fine.”

  “We’ll see tomorrow. It shouldn’t take too long to set up.” He studied her. “But right now there’s someplace I want to show you.”

  “Here in the office?”

  “No. You’ve done enough work here today. I just want to show you something I like about Rust Creek Falls, and maybe you’ll like it, too.”

  He was standing behind her as he looked over the desk and suddenly he couldn’t keep from plac
ing his hands on her shoulders.

  She went perfectly still.

  Jazzy felt warm under his hands. There was a comfort in holding her, but he felt a need to claim her somehow, too. Funny he should think of it that way.

  He was grateful for her help, for her expertise in painting, for her caring about his practice and his dad. He cleared his throat. “Thank you for finishing this today, Jazzy. Tomorrow we can actually start setting up.”

  Releasing his grip on her, he stepped away.

  She was silent for a moment but then her eyes sparkled in a way that invited him to get to know her better. “As soon as I wash up, I’m ready to go.” Her voice was light.

  They were going to keep everything between them very light.

  * * *

  As Brooks drove to the north of Rust Creek Falls, Jazzy recognized where they were headed—Falls Mountain. Tall evergreens were everywhere.

  When the paved part of the road ended, Brooks glanced at her. “This last stretch has been smoothed out some since the flood, but it could still be a little rough. Have you ever been to the falls?”

  “I haven’t. There just never seemed to be enough time to ride up here.”

  Brooks’s truck bumped along the narrow road, which became a series of switchbacks under the never-ending groves of pines. One of the switchbacks led out onto a rocky point before doubling back. They could have parked there, she guessed, to get a view of Rust Creek Falls valley below, but they didn’t. Brooks kept driving.

  Suddenly they rounded a sharp turn and Jazzy could hear a tumbling, echoing roar. Mist wisped in front of them until finally as the sparkling sun reflected off shimmering water, she spotted the falls.

  Brooks veered off the road to a safe spot and parked. “Would you like to get out? We can walk closer.”

  “Is it safe?”

  “I promise I won’t let you trip and fall over the edge.” He grinned at her and she shook her head.

  “I’ve done some hiking, I’ll be—”

  “Fine,” he supplied for her and she had to grin back. There was something about Brooks Smith that made her want to dive into his arms. How could his fiancée have broken up with him?

  After Jazzy climbed out of the truck, Brooks took her elbow as they walked toward the falls. They stood there a few moments in silence, listening to the fall of water, watching the mist puff up, admiring the late-day sunlight glinting off the cascade of ripples. They were standing close together. Brooks was still holding her elbow and it didn’t feel protective as much as...close...intimate.

  Because of that, because she wanted to know more about him, she asked, “Do you date much?” She knew what she’d heard from Dean, but she wanted to hear it from Brooks.

  “I don’t have time to date.”

  “If you did, would you?”

  Instead of gazing at the falls now, he was gazing at her. “I don’t know. Dating is meant to lead somewhere. I don’t know if I want to go there for lots of reasons.”

  She knew she was prying but she asked, “Such as?”

  The breeze and the mist wound about them, seeming to push them closer.

  “Relationships require time, and I don’t have it. Relationships require commitment, loyalty, fidelity and few people know how to give those.”

  She sorted that one out from all the rest. “You’ve put a lot of thought into it.”

  “Because I tried once and it didn’t work.”

  Hmm, just what did that mean? Had Brooks’s fiancée expected flowers, poems, rose petals and attention from morning to night? On the other hand, if Brooks really didn’t know how to be a partner in a relationship...

  She’d find out about the partner part.

  “Did your mom and dad have a good marriage?”

  “This is beginning to feel like the Inquisition,” he grumbled.

  “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” She’d obviously pushed too far and she had a tendency to do that. She just hoped that she hadn’t ruined their rapport.

  But as if he needed answers, too, he asked, “What about your parents? Do they have a good marriage?”

  She didn’t mind talking about her parents. They were the epitome of what a married couple should be. “Oh, yes. They still hold hands. They enjoy being around each other. We can tell.”

  “You talk about it with your brother and sisters?”

  She grinned. “Especially when we’re trying to point out what we want for our futures. Three of my sisters are happily married. Incredibly lovesick.” She sighed. “They sure have had more luck than I’ve had.” Then, because she didn’t want Brooks to think she was pathetic not being able to find anybody to love, she said, “But maybe that’s because I don’t like calf-roping. Maybe if I practiced, a cowboy would lift me out of the mud and he’d become my Prince Charming.”

  Brooks laughed. “That’s a pipe dream if I ever heard one.”

  “Don’t I know it. I limit my pipe dreams to achievable ones.” And she could see, even if she’d begun to fall for Brooks Smith, that that road would lead nowhere. Whatever had happened to him had made him sure that a bachelor’s life was the one he wanted.

  What a shame.

  * * *

  The following morning, Jazzy was at the front desk, setting up the computer program. She glanced over at Brooks as he helped the delivery man move in more equipment and furniture. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt today in deference to the work he was doing, and he looked good. All brawny, handsome cowboy.

  They’d met here today and acted as if they hadn’t shared those closer moments at the falls yesterday. But then she knew that was the way men acted sometimes. Her dad, especially, had trouble showing his feelings. And Brody, even though he was supposed to be a modern-day bachelor, didn’t often put his into words, either.

  In the reception area, Brooks pushed a few chairs into place and then asked Jazzy, “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s coming together. By tomorrow you should be ready to see patients. Later today, I’ll see about putting the word out on local Kalispell sites. Getting the word out isn’t always easy, but we’ll do it.”

  Suddenly, a tall, thin woman with fire-red, frizzy hair burst into the office. “Brooks, what’s going on here? I heard there was a bunch of commotion down here and came down to see myself.”

  With an expression of chagrin, Brooks turned to face the newcomer. “Hi, Irene. Have you met Jasmine Cates? Jazzy, this is Irene Murphy. She manages the feed department at Crawford’s store.”

  “It’s good to meet you, Mrs. Murphy.” She wasn’t touching this complication. She was going to let Brooks handle the woman and an explanation that might spread through the town like wildfire. Jazzy was an outsider, but Brooks wasn’t, and the news would be better coming from him.

  “I’m setting up a clinic here,” he explained. “Buckskin Veterinary Clinic.”

  “You mean, you’re like an annex to your dad’s practice?” Irene inquired with a puzzled look on her face.

  “No, I’m not an annex.” Brooks didn’t explain more.

  Irene gave the place a good looking around, and her nose went a little higher into the air. “It looks like we’ll have something to talk about at Crawford’s today.” Before Brooks could say another word, she’d swept out the door.

  “Uh-oh,” he muttered. “I’d better get hold of my father. She’s the town crier. Nothing escapes her notice.”

  Brooks took out his phone and speed-dialed his dad’s number. He frowned. “Voice mail. He must be out on a call. He leaves his phone in the car rather than carry it with him. That’s a mistake for more than one reason. If he had it on him, at least he could dial 9-1-1 if something happened.”

  “Is there a reason he leaves it in his car?” Jazzy asked.

  “He lost his phone once when
he was tracking through a field and never found it again. When something happens once, Dad doesn’t forget. He doesn’t change easily, either.”

  When Brooks’s face darkened, Jazzy suspected he was thinking about his broken engagement and his father’s directive to get married or not join him in his practice. She didn’t know how she’d feel if her parents gave her an ultimatum, like either get married or move out. But they’d never do that.

  Nevertheless, she did often feel their concern that she hadn’t met the right guy, that she wasn’t settling down like her sisters, that she wouldn’t have the grandchildren they were hoping for. That was a constant, steady pressure. She could only imagine the pressure Brooks was feeling with his dad’s health being in danger. No wonder he wanted to do something about it.

  A half hour later, Jazzy was proud of herself that she’d set up the computer program and it was ready to input patient data.

  Brooks circled around the desk and leaned over her shoulder. “Great job, Jazzy.”

  Turning her head sideways, her face was very close to his.

  “Thanks,” she said, a little breathless. “Now I just have to round up some four-legged patients for you.”

  He didn’t move away and she wondered if he liked the idea of being close as much as she did. His voice was husky when he said, “Once we get the sign up tomorrow, everyone will know we’re here.” He’d told her he had a friend who could paint a sign on short notice.

  All of a sudden, the front door of the clinic banged opened and a tall, barrel-chested man, who was red-faced and almost looked as if he were breathing fire, came rushing in. “Just what in the hell are you doing?”

  When Brooks straightened, he had a pained look on his face.

  Jazzy asked, “Should I call the sheriff?”

  “The sheriff?” the man bellowed. “I should be the one calling the sheriff. My own son is trying to put me out of business.”

  Now Jazzy saw the light. The irate man was Barrett Smith, Brooks’s father. She couldn’t believe he’d already gotten wind of what was happening here, but Irene Murphy must have put the word out.