The Surgeon and the Cowgirl (Harlequin American Romance)

by Heidi Hormel

  “It’s a Leigh thing. I guess I got all of the asking genes from Mama’s people.”

  Jessie, like her daddy and brother, sometimes took independence a little far, but she wasn’t stupid. Lavonda had been great at her job and had been on half a dozen nonprofit boards, always asking for money. Plus Jessie’d come up with squat for a plan, other than calling people and trying to talk to them, which, in her desperation, might have been a little more like bullying.

  Jessie took a deep breath and managed to smile as she said, “If you have ideas, I’d love to hear them.” That hadn’t been as hard as she imagined.

  “Would you like to get some lunch? I could go over what I’ve been thinking about,” Lavonda said. “I know you don’t have volunteers helping with the fund-raising, and—”

  “I’m horrible at asking for money...obviously, or I wouldn’t be shut down.”

  “It’s an acquired talent.” Lavonda’s smile made her face look much younger, like the little girl who had helped Jessie braid their ponies’ manes.

  “Good. Because I need to acquire it fast.” Jessie’s mood instantly lightened and the tightness in her stomach eased.

  * * *

  PAYSON HAD BEEN certain he would see Jessie before he left for work on Monday but that didn’t happen. As usual, she was going it alone. Damn that woman.

  Because so much of his schedule had been cleared to oversee Hope’s Ride, he had the time to dig further into a plan to get Jessie’s program reopened and solvent. Spence had the legalities under control, although another call to light a fire under his brother wouldn’t hurt.

  Payson had spoken with his financial guy about getting money for the program, which the man had advised against, even after Payson had explained thoroughly that the donation was an investment in his career, starting with becoming director of pediatrics. Next, he searched the hospital’s internal network for grants and donation opportunities. Desert Valley’s board was always looking for places to spend money and shine up the hospital’s reputation as a “caring community health center.” Payson couldn’t imagine that the hospital wouldn’t invest a little of its own money in Hope’s Ride. He’d have Helen do more digging.

  While Jessie might not be wrong about him liking to be in charge, he’d learned to delegate tasks or he’d never get to sleep. When he had a patient who needed help or he wanted to test out new equipment, he asked Helen. She had a knack for ferreting out obscure funding options.

  The downside of money from the hospital was that the cash might take months to materialize. Long-term solution? Maybe. Jessie would ultimately have to decide on the grants because those sometimes came with strings. He didn’t see strings and independent Jessie going together.

  The best, quickest solution had him calling in favors and begging a couple of other doctors and family friends for cash. He didn’t want to think about what he’d promised them for the money. By the end of this week, he was sure he’d not only have enough to bring Jessie’s mortgage up-to-date but—this was key—there would be enough left over to get Jessie through the next few months until the hospital came through with its endorsement. Not only would that be good for Jessie, it would be good for his plans, too.

  He barely acknowledged that he wanted Jessie on good financial footing in case she was pregnant...with his baby.

  After pulling into his garage, Payson sat in his Range Rover, figuring out how he would present his plans. He’d just lay out the money situation in cold hard facts. She was an adult and she had a lot to lose. She’d listen, wouldn’t she?

  He found her in the kitchen. Her head snapped up, and he thought she looked guilty.

  “I was leaving you a note,” she said. “Lavonda promised that if I came to stay with her, she won’t tell Mama and Daddy. I should have done that in the first place. I guess I was too stunned to think right.”

  “I spent my whole day saving Hope’s Ride. You can at least stay until I tell you what I’ve worked out.” He saw the change in her body.

  “Excuse me,” Jessie said slowly.

  “I talked with the hospital. They would have found out sooner or later, and,” he hurried on before she could cut in, “they are so convinced that the program is a winner that they’ve...umm...given you a grant. That’s what they called it. A grant that doesn’t have to be paid back, and there isn’t even any paperwork because they’re already working with you.” It was a lie, and he watched her closely to see if she believed him.

  “You talked to the hospital about all of this? I didn’t ask you to.”

  “It was preemptive. They would have found out about the foreclosure,” he said again. That was an argument Jessie might just accept. Why couldn’t she be a reasonable human being? Anyone else would have been thrilled to learn that her financial problems were going to disappear and not ask too many questions.

  “I told you that I could handle this myself and I am. Lavonda and I have come up with a plan,” Jessie said. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her sage-green eyes narrowed.

  “Jessie, the hospital’s willing to give you this money. Take it before they change their minds.” Please take the money. He worked to keep his expression pleasant and not give her a hint of his anger and fear.

  “No. There’ll be all kinds of strings attached, just like when I called you for help. No one ever gives you money free and clear. Lavonda and I have this covered. I can take care of this without more interference from the hospital.”

  “You need help right now. I got you the help.”

  “I didn’t ask you to.”

  “I know, but don’t be stupid.” As soon as that was out of his mouth she gasped, and he immediately wanted to unsay it. “I mean, this is what you wanted, isn’t it? To save Hope’s Ride?”

  “Thank you for letting me stay here,” Jessie said and started to walk out.

  “Wait. What if...” he began, but wasn’t sure how he could say anything about the pregnancy. Instead, he went on, “I spent all day talking with—”

  Jessie whipped around to face him and stepped right up to him, “I didn’t ask you to spend a minute of your precious time. I am not taking the money.”

  “Saturday morning...what if...”

  “That was a mistake. A big one. You don’t need to worry. It’s the wrong time,” she said.

  He didn’t stop her when she walked out the door.

  Chapter Eleven

  “You should be the one they interview,” Jessie said to Lavonda for the twentieth time in half an hour.

  “It’s your therapy program. You’re the cowgirl, and there are people who will remember you from your trick-riding days. You are your own best spokesperson,” Lavonda answered as she looked Jessie up and down.

  They were just minutes from an interview with a Phoenix television news reporter and the kickoff to the press blitz that Lavonda had orchestrated. This was all possible because Spence had negotiated for more time from the mortgage company. It’d been like a Christmas miracle. She still owed the money, but she’d been given time—fingers crossed that it was enough.

  Lavonda had convinced Jessie that the story of Hope’s Ride was sure to get local media interest and had the potential to go national. Her sister’s reasoning? Who could resist little kids and ponies fighting against big evil banks and hospitals? Jessie wasn’t so sure that the hospital was “evil.” Sure, they’d been slower than molasses in February and were withholding their funding till the money got sorted out, but the staff had been supportive. Still, Lavonda had convinced her that this strategy would get them what they needed. So Lavonda had passed along the information to bloggers and sent out a mass email to parents and volunteers with Hope’s Ride asking them to share it with everyone they knew. All of that was how Jessie found herself standing in the late-afternoon Arizona sun, sweating and waiting.

  Jessie pulled at her jeans ag
ain and wiped her palms along the sides of her legs while the cameraman got footage of the ranch, including the foreclosure notice, which had to stay until she’d deposited all she owed at the bank. Jessie, in a fringed and pearl-snapped shirt, would be taped leaning up against one of the corrals—“for that true Western look,” the reporter explained. Lavonda insisted that Molly be in the shot, too. The pony waited more patiently than Jessie, stretching her muzzle through the slats of the fence to nibble at Jessie and beg for treats.

  “Get her miked up, Len,” the reporter said to the tall, thin camera guy. He got the microphone clipped to Jessie’s shirt and hid the power pack at her back.

  Her hands wouldn’t stop trembling, and she wiped them on her jeans again. Lavonda now stood behind the camera guy, mimicking a big smile and pointing at Jessie.

  Jessie pulled out her brightest rodeo smile, but she wondered from the odd look the reporter gave her if it was more like a grimace.

  “Miss Jessie,” Len, the camera man said. “Could you say something please? I need to test the volume.”

  “Something,” Jessie said and laughed nervously. The camera man motioned for her to continue. “Hope’s Ride is a—”

  “That’s good, ma’am. Thank you,” he said, and nodded to the dark-haired reporter in heels and a Hillary Clinton pantsuit.

  “Jessie, while I ask you questions,” the woman said, “I want you talk to me and not look at the camera. Lavonda and I have gone over the situation, and I’ll add the specifics in a voiceover later. From you, I want the flavor of the program. I want to understand why it’s so important that you continue. Are you ready?”

  Jessie wanted to shout No. “I’m ready,” she said and blew out a nervous breath. This wasn’t any different than performing in the rodeo, except it smelled better.

  The reporter’s gaze slid from Jessie and locked on the camera. She asked, “Jessie, you began Hope’s Ride after you retired from the rodeo. Since then you’ve helped a number of children with disabilities or injuries. Can you tell me what is so special about these youngsters?”

  After another deep breath Jessie said in a wavering voice, “Each child has touched my heart. Every one of them is working to overcome so much. They’re so brave and uncomplaining. I am amazed every day.”

  “I understand that the riding provides physical rehabilitation for the children, but is there an emotional and psychological component, as well?”

  “Yes,” Jessie said, feeling calmer as she stared into the reporter’s dark eyes. She only needed to convince this one woman of the near miracles that Hope’s Ride performed. “The horses don’t laugh at the children, and they don’t care if the kids don’t walk right or talk right. The horses give them kisses or gentle nudges because they are happy to see them. That sort of unconditional acceptance is essential. Then there is the fact that these children are in control of something so large. The horses listen to them, follow their instructions. The children feel so powerful after that. How can that not make them feel important and strong?”

  Jessie relaxed another notch and talked about the children whose parents had given permission for their cases to be featured. “Alex,” Jessie said and smiled. “He’s a very brave little guy. He has a genetic disease that has led to a number of surgeries and put him physically behind other children his age. After starting at Hope’s Ride, he began working harder at his traditional therapy and has come right out of his shell. He’s doing better at school and his mother is so happy with his attitude. Even I’ve been amazed by Alex’s progress,” Jessie said. She was going to go on when a tug on her jeans pulled her to the fence. She automatically pushed Molly away.

  “Who’s that trying to get your attention?” the reporter asked.

  “This is Molly,” Jessie said, turning so the pony was visible. The camera man moved forward. “She’s probably Alex’s favorite animal at Hope’s Ride. She was my pony, so she’s got a little age to her. The children spoil her. Right now, she’s really missing them.”

  “So other children like her, too? Do they ride her? How do they spoil her?”

  “Molly’s role is more a shepherd. She usually keeps the children gathered together and lets them groom her...and give her treats like apples and gummy worms,” Jessie said and put her hand out to give Molly a pat. The pony laid her head on the railing. “Since I’ve had to close Hope’s Ride, she follows me around as I clean stalls and then walks to the gate looking for the cars. She’ll stand there for an hour or more. Then she shuffles back to her stall with her head down. While I was on the rodeo circuit, Molly was perfectly happy to stay behind and hang out with her horse friends. Once I started introducing her to the children at Hope’s Ride, it’s like she’s found a whole new purpose. She takes her job very seriously. I don’t know how she does it, but when a child is frightened or sad, she just knows. She’ll go over and give them kisses.” Jessie added without thinking, “Come closer. She’ll give you one.”

  The reporter looked taken aback and totally uninterested in getting any closer to Molly. “It would be better if she demonstrated on you,” the reporter said.

  “Go on,” the guy behind the camera said. “It’ll be a great shot, Cassandra.”

  Jessie urged the well-dressed woman over, and Molly stamped her little hooves, kicking up a cloud of dust.

  “Are you sure she’s not going to bite me?” Cassandra asked.

  “She just wants you to hurry up,” Jessie soothed.

  “Len, get the shot framed because I’m not doing this again,” the woman said and took the final step toward Molly. The pony stretched farther over the railing and smacked her lips.

  “Lean down,” Jessie said. “She wants to kiss your cheek.”

  The reporter sucked in a breath and bent over, placing her face within easy reach of Molly. The pony sniffed delicately, then nibbled the woman’s hair before pressing her muzzle firmly to Cassandra’s cheek. “Oh,” the reporter said, her voice hushed with surprise and pleasure. “She’s so soft.” Cassandra remained hunched over another moment or two and she reached out to hug the pony. When she finally stood back, Molly shook her head up and down, whinnied and ran around the corral two or three times to the delighted laughter of the reporter and cameraman.

  Cassandra didn’t move from the fence. When Molly came up again and tugged on her suit jacket, the reporter laughed and petted the pony. “It’s obvious she loves people, isn’t it?”

  “Actually, all of the horses love people. They enjoy the work and the interaction with the students. They seem to know that their cargo is precious and fragile. Even when the students are brushing them, they behave.”

  “Do the young people do all of the grooming and care of the horses?”

  “They do what they are able to because I tell them that cowboys and cowgirls always care for their mounts. We expect our students to perform the same chores that any young person learning to ride would, taking into account their limitations but pushing them to do more than they think they can. It’s all part of the process of showing them that they can do anything.”

  “It must be extraordinary to see the changes in your students, their growth.”

  “It makes getting up before dawn every day and worrying every minute how to pay the bills worth it.”

  Cassandra gestured to the ranch. “And without help, you won’t be able to get the program running again and keep it going, isn’t that right?”

  Even though she and Lavonda had discussed this part of the interview, it was still hard for her to ask for the help that she needed. It’s for the kids like Alex, she told herself. In her mind, she could see his dear little face. She’d do anything for him, even beg for the money.

  “I am working now to keep the bank and mortgage company from closing us down. We need to make up missed payments before it goes to a foreclosure auction. If the ranch is sold, the horses will have to find
new homes, too. Most were adopted from other people or from rescue organizations. You’ve met Molly—I’m not sure what I’ll do with her if I don’t have the ranch.

  “To keep the program viable, we’ve been working on receiving an endorsement from Desert Valley Hospital, which would have boosted the number of students whose fees would support the day-to-day operations, allowing us to raise money specifically to pay off the mortgage so we’re not in this position again.”

  Jessie took a breath. She’d said it right, just the way she and Lavonda had planned. “A team of professionals from Desert Valley were here for a month before the shutdown forced them to delay their report. Without the report, the hospital’s support may not come through.”

  “So, it sounds like you’re hoping the Phoenix community will help you keep Hope’s Ride open?”

  “That’s what we’re hoping,” Jessie said, and smiled. “We can’t wait for Desert Valley to help these children. Hope’s Ride is...I mean was...helping these very special and brave kids do things that they and their parents thought they’d never be able to do. It might sound...hokey...but we saw miracles every day. I guess, now, we’re hoping for a miracle for Hope’s Ride.”

  The silence made Jessie glance at her sister to make sure that she hadn’t messed up. Lavonda’s eyes were bright, but she was smiling.

  “Perfect,” said Cassandra. “We’ll definitely end the piece with that. Len, get a little more B roll, then we’re on our way.” The reporter turned to Jessie, “Thank you. The interview was great. We’ll do what we can. With all of the need in the community, I can’t say what help you may get, but our viewers have been generous in the past.”

  “Anything would be a help. If we’d just had the hospital’s endorsement, we would have been okay. Not rolling in money but able to pay all of the bills.”

  The reporter and cameraman thanked Jessie again and even went over to give the forlorn Molly a pat. The pony perked up and showed off again by galloping around and kicking up her heels. Everyone laughed. Molly looked over her shoulder, and Jessie was pretty sure she gave them a grin.