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The Surgeon and the Cowgirl (Harlequin American Romance)

Page 12

by Heidi Hormel


  * * *

  “IT WENT BETTER than I thought it would,” Lavonda said. “Molly is a real ham, isn’t she? Was she like that when we were kids?”

  Jessie watched her sister ruffle the pony’s mane and said, “She was. You really think this will work?”

  “It’s kids and poor defenseless animals. People will definitely want to help. We have everything set up to take the donations. I still have feelers out to other media. We could get even more coverage. Everything will be fine. Let’s change, finish up the stalls and then get lunch,” Lavonda said, moving Jessie to the barns.

  The women worked at the ranch for the rest of the day. Jessie called Spence again about getting into her house, but he’d had no luck. She would stay with Lavonda for another night.

  They were both disappointed to find out the news story would not appear until the next day. A tiny part of Jessie was relieved that she could put off telling her parents and brother about the problems for a little longer. Lavonda put a good spin on it, though, telling Jessie the delay meant that the story was going to be more in-depth and longer. Two days later, Jessie was ready to go to the station and put the tape on air herself. After a call to Cassandra, Lavonda told Jessie the piece would run at the top of the five o’clock news—a good placement. The reporter said her station manager was going to offer the tape to other affiliates and the national network.

  “If this thing goes national,” Lavonda said as they sat in front of the TV and waited for the segment, “you won’t need to worry about getting the hospital’s support, or that Mama and Daddy will try to help out. You will have more than enough to keep Hope’s Ride going.”

  “I just need enough to get the bank to leave me alone and call off the Humane League,” Jessie said. She didn’t want to imagine anything more. It would be all the more disappointing if the story didn’t get national attention.

  “Have you talked with Payson? Does he know about the story?”

  “No,” Jessie said shortly. She’d dreamed of them together again last night.

  “You should tell him. I’ve known him long enough to know that he doesn’t like to be blind-sided,” Lavonda said.

  “I’ll text him,” Jessie lied, refusing to look at her sister or think how the piece might affect Payson’s chances of getting his directorship, which was as important to him as Hope’s Ride was to her. Instead, she focused on watching the broadcast, reminding herself that she hadn’t said anything but the truth. How could that be a problem?

  By the time the piece on Hope’s Ride was done, Jessie had swiped at her tears repeatedly. The reporter had done an amazing job capturing the essence of the program. She’d not only interviewed Jessie but also Alex, his mother and a number of other clients. The part of the broadcast where the president of the hospital refused to speak about the endorsement, hurrying away from the reporter, worried Jessie a little.

  “That was perfect,” Lavonda said. “You don’t need to worry. You’ll get more than enough to reopen the ranch.”

  Fifteen minutes after the broadcast, Jessie’s parents called and could barely speak because they were so proud of her—and mad at her. They chided her for not calling them. They were only appeased because she had asked Lavonda for help. Her brother left a message and told her that she should’ve called him, too.

  Lavonda’s phone rang, but it wasn’t a donation. Instead, a volunteer with the Humane League was calling to tell Jessie she needed to stop exploiting Molly. The next two calls were from animal rights activists who hated rodeos and complained loudly of Jessie’s former involvement.

  “What the heck?” Lavonda said at her phone. “That woman said that making Molly kiss Cassandra was cruel and unusual punishment. What is wrong with people? Why aren’t they donating? Let me check the website. It probably crashed from all of the traffic.”

  Jessie knew what Lavonda would find. People didn’t care. No, that wasn’t fair. They cared, but there was so much in the world to care about. And she certainly wasn’t surprised—or hurt—that she hadn’t heard from Payson.

  * * *

  TWO DAYS LATER only one hundred dollars in donations had come in. She and Lavonda were getting dinner ready and not talking about the failure of the strategy when Jessie’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and saw an unfamiliar number. She answered anyway.

  “Good Morning USA here. We’d like to interview you live. Saw the Phoenix piece. The local affiliate will send a crew to the ranch at six a.m.”

  “Sure,” Jessie said, stumbling over her words. “Six a.m. at the ranch.”

  “Perfect. Make sure the pony is there.”

  The phone went dead.

  “What?” Lavonda asked as Jessie stood looking at her phone.

  “Good Morning USA.” She stopped talking because her heart pounded so hard she was pretty sure she was having a heart attack.

  “That was them on the phone?”

  Jessie nodded because she couldn’t talk. Lavonda punched the air. “We did it.” Lavonda grabbed Jessie and hugged her hard.

  Getting on national TV had been Lavonda’s goal. Jessie never believed it would happen, and now it was and already her stomach was in knots. How many hours until she and Molly had to be on TV? Not enough. Did she need a manicure? Had she ever even had a manicure? What about makeup? She might have some in the back of a drawer but all of that was locked up in her house.

  “Jessie,” Lavonda said loudly and inches from her face. “Breathe. It will be fine. Give me the number and I’ll confirm the details. This is what we wanted. This will save Hope’s Ride. You can do it. Think of Alex and all of the other kids.”

  Her sister had it right. Jessie had to pull it together. If being on TV again could save her dream, then she would do it. But for cripes’ sake, she just wanted to ride horses and help kids. That was all she had ever wanted—to be with her horses, her kids and...Payson. And two out of three wasn’t bad.

  “Go drink a glass of water or something,” Lavonda said. “You still look like you’re going to pass out. Remember, this is all good.”

  Chapter Twelve

  As she opened the fridge, Jessie heard her phone play “Cotton-Eyed Joe” and her heart stopped. That was Payson. Why was he calling now? Hope’s Ride had been on TV days ago. Maybe Lavonda had been right and she should have told him ahead of time. She caught his call just before it went to voice mail.

  “Hello, Payson.”

  Silence, then a very hesitant and un-Payson like voice said, “Oh. Umm. I didn’t think you were going to pick up.”

  She managed to stop herself from babbling like a teen.

  “I just wanted to say congratulations,” he said as another silence stretched out. “I heard you were on the news.”

  “We’re going to be on Good Morning USA tomorrow,” she blurted.

  “That’s fantastic,” Payson said, but his enthusiasm sounded forced.

  “Lavonda is sure that national exposure will get us the donations we need,” Jessie said, not so sure after the lack of support with the local coverage. “Then I won’t need to worry about when the hospital gives me its stamp of approval and it’s good I didn’t take that money you talked about. I’m sure it had all kinds of strings attached.”

  “I guess you owe me a steak dinner since you’ll be world famous,” he joked badly. “Just be careful about what you say.”

  “Lavonda and I rehearsed everything.”

  “I’m just giving you a heads up that the hospital is...image is important.”

  “They’re the ones who won’t be interviewed,” Jessie answered hotly.

  “I’m sure you’ve had one of your long days. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Stop treating me like a child.”

  “Jeez. I just called to congratulate you. Can’t we even have a civil conversation?�


  Jessie paced the apartment’s galley kitchen. “I’m not apologizing.” Even as the words came out, she knew she sounded like a pouty toddler. How did he so quickly reduce her to a witch with a B? “Let me start over.” She stopped moving and said with every ounce of politeness she could muster. “Thank you for the call, Payson.”

  “You’re welcome, and can I give you some advice about the hospital?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Maybe just saying the polite words would make her feel less cranky. Without that wall of hostility, though, would she start to feel that connection they’d had that morning?

  “I know that working with Desert Valley has been a challenge for you with the paperwork and then withdrawing the staff. They’re really just a big company, so it would be best if you could talk about the positive parts of the relationship and not about the problems you’ve had.”

  “Are you telling me to lie?”

  “Jessie, if you repeat any of this, I’ll be in big trouble,” he said. “I got called into a meeting today. They’re seriously considering pulling their support for the program’s endorsement after watching the piece from local station.”

  “What?”

  “Those of us working with you are trying to change their minds.”

  “That’s blackmail. I just told the truth, and it wasn’t even that bad. It’s not like I said they were torturing kittens and starving puppies.”

  He blew out a long breath. “Jessie, you don’t understand. All of the hospital’s employees—even the doctors—are forbidden to say anything about the hospital. People have been fired for saying that Desert Valley makes them work long hours or that the cafeteria food is bland.”

  “So, if I say anything other than they are the best, I’ll lose them as a supporter?”

  “I’m not telling you what to do but...we’re talking about Hope’s Ride’s future and possibly my career, too.”

  Jessie didn’t know how to respond. Was he saying that what she’d said on TV could get him fired?

  “Jessie? You still there? Just tell me where you’re taping the national piece and I’ll be there.”

  “You don’t need to be there to make sure I don’t mess this up. I understand what’s at stake. Hope’s Ride is—”

  “Yours,” he finished. “You’ve made that clear to me and everyone else—”

  “I’m not going to cut off my nose to spite my face. I’ll figure something out.”

  “If you just tell me where you’re taping, I’ll be there and we can practice,” he said again, with more urgency.

  The silence stretched out until Jessie finally said, “My family—Lavonda—will be with me. I don’t plan to make trouble for Hope’s Ride or you.”

  “I don’t think you’d blame me for being a little controlling in this kind of situation. Plus, I’ve been dealing with the hospital administration for years. I understand how they think.”

  “I know, and I know how important your promotion and that new title are to you,” Jessie said very, very quietly. More silence followed.

  “I want to be there, Jessie, please,” he finally said.

  Maybe he should be there. It was his career, too. What he did for the children was just as important, even if he was doing it all for a stupid title. She stopped that line of thought. That was mean. She shouldn’t belittle what he cared about. “I’m going on the air at six a.m. tomorrow. We’re filming at the ranch. Lord help us all, but they want to have Molly on national TV.” She tried to laugh.

  “Thank you,” he said quietly. “Good night, Jessie.” She thought she heard him mutter “My stubborn cowgirl” before the phone went dead.

  * * *

  PAYSON CHECKED HIS phone as he got into his Range Rover before the sun even came up. He’d have just enough time to stop for coffee and make it to the ranch to discuss the interview with Jessie. His heart raced as he imagined what could go wrong. He’d heard from Helen, who’d heard from another woman at the hospital that the administration had convened an emergency meeting to address the “issue.”

  He drove on autopilot to the coffee shop, mulling over what Jessie might say to appease the hospital. Would she even consider it? What if she decided she didn’t need him or the hospital? After she’d turned down their money, he’d had to backtrack and return everything. Maybe the TV interview didn’t matter. Could anything she said today make a difference, or had the administration already seen this as damage done? Would they jettison the entire program, and Payson along with it for bringing Hope’s Ride to them in the first place? He wished the coffee shop sold something stronger. Should he call his brother now, so he could get down here and make sure none of them got any deeper into the weeds? Probably too late. Or too early. The sun hadn’t even cracked the horizon. He’d give him a call anyway and hope that Spence actually answered the phone.

  Why hadn’t he called Spence last night after talking with Jessie and finding out about the taping? Because all he’d been able to focus on was that he’d get to see Jessie.

  * * *

  IN THE GREEN-WHITE glow of the barn light, Payson watched Jessie stroll to the corral. His heart stuttered, then he firmly told himself that his career depended on what happened in the next few hours. Concentrate on that, Payson Robert MacCormack.

  “Jessie,” he raised his voice to catch her attention. “I got you fuel.” He held up the cup.

  Her head whipped around but her face stayed in shadow. “Come on. There’s a ton to do. I’ve got to get Molly groomed and...come on,” she said again. Obviously, he hadn’t been moving fast enough.

  He hurried to reach her. For a moment, he balked at being ordered around. Then he remembered what was riding on this morning’s broadcast. “Maybe we should just cancel.” Why hadn’t he suggested that before? Because when it came to anything involving Jessie, his brain didn’t work at full capacity. He might not be completely convinced of the measurable outcomes at Hope’s Ride, like increased flexibility and strength, but he’d certainly come to believe that the psychological and emotional impact of the program had value for children like Alex.

  “You’re joking, right? I’m going to assume you’re joking,” she said with a squinty-eyed glare. “Fill this bucket with water, then we’ll talk.”

  Twenty minutes later, he knew with certainty that they were all in trouble. Deep, can’t-dig-your-way-out trouble. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Jessie found a goal and got there on her own, never asking for help. That sometimes meant steamrollering over other people, including the hospital, based on what she said had been broadcast.

  “I have the right to my opinion, and it’s not like I lied.”

  “I know,” he said, trying to slow down his heart and wondering if he had antacids somewhere in the SUV to calm his churning stomach.

  “I worked on what to say. It’s good.”

  “Going it alone again?” he asked and immediately wanted to kick his own butt. Jessie wasn’t going it alone. She’d accepted his help and before that Lavonda’s. He had to remember that she wasn’t the Jessie he remembered, except in the most important ways—her bravery, her loyalty and her huge heart. “So what are you going to say?”

  She shrugged tightly. “I’m not going to say anything if Molly doesn’t get gummy worms and refuses to cooperate. I ran out. Could you go to the Min-It Mart and get them? You can be there and back in plenty of time.”

  He caught and held her sage-green gaze. Could he trust her? This was his career, his future. It was hers, too. Oh, God, if he hadn’t been able to show her how much he cared, loved her while they were married, could he do it now? Would that heal the hole in his heart? He took the leap. “I trust you.” He saw her stiff shoulders loosen and a smile—the real kind—curve her lips. The knot in his stomach loosened. “But I don’t trust that pony, so I’ll be getting a big bag of gummy worms.”


  “Payson,” she said and gathered herself before she went on. “I’m not doing these interviews to hurt you. You know that, right? It’s just that Hope’s Ride...the children...damn...it’s too early...I haven’t had enough—” She stopped when Molly’s solid head connected and made her stumble. Payson reached out to steady her. In seconds she was in his arms, cradled against him, her long length soothing him as much as exciting him with her strong curves.

  He held her, not sure if there was anything he could say that would make either of them feel better. He softly kissed her temple, taking in her clean scent and finding a little more stability. “We fixed your hair, we can fix this.” He heard a small puff of her laughter.

  “That was much worse,” she said, her face still buried in the side of his neck.

  “Much worse,” he agreed. They were silent for long seconds and her warmth and vitality slowly seeped into him, steadying his heartbeat, calming his mind. “So what are we going to do this time? I don’t think my mother’s stylist can help out.”

  Jessie gasped out a laugh and then her mouth was on his. He could taste desperation and something else. Then he didn’t care because her arms tightened around him and he opened his mouth to her. He heard her sigh of pleasure as her tongue found his and her hands kneaded his shoulders. He pulled her closer by the full, round muscles of her buttocks. Once again their hips aligned perfectly and blood rushed to his groin. He groaned, or was that Jessie?

  “Hey, you two, do I need to get the hose?” Lavonda asked.

  They broke apart like a couple of teens caught making out in the back of Daddy’s car. Payson looked at the ground as he gathered his thoughts. “Better go get those gummy worms,” he mumbled. “I’ll be back before the filming.” Payson glanced at Jessie, whose fingers worried the snaps on her shirt. He saw the fullness of her lips from the kiss and wanted to take her in his arms again. He also saw that she was back to being the big bad cowgirl. In charge of the world and not needing him or anyone else. Was that the way it would always be?

 

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