Perfect Wyoming Complete Collection: Special Agent's Perfect Cover ; Rancher's Perfect Baby Rescue ; A Daughter's Perfect Secret ; Lawman's Perfect Surrender ; The Perfect Outsider ; Mercenary's Perfect Mission

by Marie Ferrarella

  Seeing nothing but a sea of unfamiliar faces, she found herself a bit relieved that she didn’t see her new boss milling about with the rest of the sheep. She wanted him to be better than the rest of these people who mindlessly ate the manure that Samuel shoveled their way. She knew it wasn’t a guarantee that he wasn’t on the same bandwagon just because she didn’t find him here, but she wanted to believe that he was different.

  Rafe…the handsome doctor with a secret in his smile and a sadness to his eyes…. Darcy had to stop herself when she realized she was thinking too much about her boss. Capping her water after a quick sip, she started for the door but was waylaid by a big, burly man in uniform with hard, watery blue eyes and big meat-hook hands, which looked as if they could crush her windpipe without him breaking a sweat. For that matter, he looked the kind of person who could take a life without thinking twice.

  “New to Cold Plains?” he asked, trying for a smile, but the effort only served to make him appear to be grimacing. As if realizing he wasn’t a natural at the smile, he replaced it with an expression of gruff courtesy. “Police Chief Bo Fargo. Nice to meet you. If you have any questions or trouble, don’t hesitate to ring my office. Mr. Grayson has charged me with keeping the peace around our nice town, and so far, everything’s been working out just right.”

  “It’s a great town,” she murmured in agreement, anxious to get away from the man. The way his stare roamed her body—not in a lecherous but, rather, clinical way—gave her the willies. “Nice to meet you, Chief Fargo. Everyone has been very kind and welcoming. Thank you,” she said, moving toward the door.

  “Have you met Mr. Grayson yet?” he asked, knowing courtesy would prevent her from just turning and leaving as she wanted. “He takes a special interest in newcomers, particularly ones as pretty as you.”

  “Is that so?” she asked, playing along to see where he was going to take the conversation.

  Encouraged, he nodded with a slow smirk as if she were playing right into his game. “Mr. Grayson would most definitely like to welcome you to Cold Plains. I could arrange a meeting. Would you like that?”

  Darcy made a show of being flattered and even giggled a little for good measure. “Maybe another time? I want to look my best when I meet him.”

  “Of course,” Chief Fargo said, his grin widening as if in triumph. “I’ll be seeing you then.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you will.”

  She gave him her best flirty smile and slipped from the building, eager to get away from the chunky cop and his leering stare, but most important, desperate to get away before someone else tried to put her in bed with her father.

  CHAPTER 9

  Bo entered the dressing room off the auditorium stage and found Samuel in his usual state of dress after a meeting, which was to mean, undress. Bo wasn’t a man who enjoyed the sight of another naked man, but Samuel seemed to relish putting people in his sphere of influence off-kilter, so he made no move to grab the robe that was within reaching distance. Instead, he let all his parts hang where they would and dared Bo to say something.

  Sometimes Bo tired of Samuel’s little head trips and wished he could call him on them, but he wisely shelved his grievances and got to the point. He’d instructed Brenda to wait for him at her place and he was eager to join her.

  “I think tonight’s meeting was very productive,” Samuel said, eschewing the tonic water he foisted on everyone else to sip at a glass of white wine from an expensive Italian label. “What did you think?”

  I think you talk too much and you’re weird. “Good,” he agreed, getting straight to the point. “There’s a newcomer that might interest you. She seems to fit the criteria of what you’re looking for.”

  At that Samuel perked up, keen interest in his eyes. “Please, share.”

  “She’s young, in her twenties, pretty.”

  “And?”

  “And she seems eager to meet you. Impressed by your speech tonight, I think,” he added, embellishing a little before sharing the information he’d gleaned. “Her name’s Darcy Craven.”

  “Darcy Craven,” Samuel said, rolling the name on his tongue, as if testing it, before smiling. “I like it. Tell me more.”

  “I don’t know much, just that she’s got a nice figure and a pretty face. Were you looking for much else?”

  Samuel sighed as if the world offered so little that he’d take what he could get, when in fact, Samuel lived like a sultan, complete with the harem of beautiful women. “No, I suppose that’ll do well enough. Yes, please arrange a meeting between myself and the lovely Ms. Craven. Of course it’s my honored duty to welcome all newcomers to Cold Plains.”

  Particularly the women, Bo added silently but nodded his understanding. “I’ll see to it.”

  Samuel’s smile was just this side of lecherous as he no doubt reveled in the heady excitement of something new to play with, a new body to discover.

  * * *

  The following day, a casual comment by a patient gave Rafe the in he’d been waiting for since arriving in this town.

  “They just don’t have enough doctors on staff at the clinic,” Mary Lou Griggs complained to Rafe as he took her pulse for a routine checkup. “I tell you, they ought to hold a job fair or something to draw attention to the clinic. I’m sure anyone would be willing to move here once they saw how great it was to raise a family and put down roots.”

  Rafe nodded. “So what makes you say the clinic is short staffed?”

  “Well, I went for my weekly checkup with the nutritionist—have you met her yet? She’s brilliant, if a little strict, but you can’t argue results. I’m down two sizes. Anyway, I waited in line for an hour before anyone could draw my blood to test my glucose levels.”

  Rafe covered his disappointment by shrugging with a mild smile. “Well, you probably just hit them on a particularly busy day. And besides, doctors aren’t the ones who would be drawing your blood. Those are lab techs.”

  “Oh, I know. That was just one example. But you’re right, they probably need more lab techs, too. No, the real thing, no offense, Dr. Black, is that I always go to the clinic for treatment of my sciatica because they’re more holistic in their approach than you. I’m not a pill person,” she added, almost apologetically, as if she’d insulted Rafe somehow with her admission.

  “I don’t much like pills myself,” he said. “But sometimes they are a necessary evil to the treatment process. However, if you’ve found an alternative method to ease your pain, I’m happy to hear it.”

  A smile bloomed on Mary Lou’s face. “I’m so glad to hear that, Dr. Black. And here I thought you were so old-fashioned when it came to holistic health. I don’t know where I got that idea. You know, you ought to volunteer at the clinic every now and again. A friendly face is always nice.”

  “Aren’t there friendly faces at the clinic?” he asked playfully to mask his true motivation.

  “Oh, of course,” Mary Lou amended hastily, shooting him a quick look. “I just meant, well, you’re so personable, I always feel like I’m visiting a friend instead of seeing a doctor. Because, you know, doctors can be a little standoffish at times. It’s that doctor-patient thing, I suppose, and the need to retain a little distance.”

  Rafe nodded and said, “Well, we all have different methods. But I think you’re right. Volunteering at the clinic sounds like a good idea. I’m still fairly new to the community, and that seems a good way to get to know people.”

  “Oh yes. I think everyone goes to the clinic at some point in their lives if they live in Cold Plains. I mean, the health exam alone would put you there, right?”

  He agreed. “Everyone undergoes the health exam. Even I did.”

  Mary Lou did a quick, flirty appraisal, which coming from the middle-aged woman nearly made Rafe shift in embarrassment, and said, “I�
��m sure you passed with flying colors. You’re as handsome as the devil.”

  Rafe laughed and murmured appropriately humble remarks before steering the conversation back to her health concerns, but his mind was elsewhere. When he’d first arrived in Cold Plains, his first stop had been at the clinic to inquire whether there were any openings—and this was before he’d discovered there was rumor of a secret infirmary—but he’d been politely turned down. He figured it was because he hadn’t been vetted yet in the community’s eyes, but that was months ago. And now, it seemed they needed a few extra hands. Perhaps he could land some pro bono work, gain some goodwill and possibly find an opportunity to nose around places he’d been previously shut out of.

  By the end of the day, he was still preoccupied with his plan of attack when Darcy stopped him as he locked up and started to head for his car. “Dr. Black…” she ventured, appearing unsure. “Can I talk to you a minute?”

  He stopped, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she assured him, but her expression remained pensive. “Can you tell me what this health exam is all about? Last night at the meeting, I was told all newcomers have to undergo a series of tests.”

  “It’s just a standard battery, nothing to be alarmed about,” he said. “It’s more of a precautionary measure.”

  “Precautionary against what?”

  Such an innocent question, one he had no answer for without revealing his own fears and suspicions. Tread carefully, his mind whispered, but there seemed true apprehension in her eyes. “I’d like to say you don’t have to do them—by law, no one can make you do anything—but if you’re interested in becoming a permanent resident of Cold Plains, you’ll find an easier go of it if you’ve been cleared by the clinic.”

  “Isn’t that discriminatory?” she asked.

  Extremely. He shrugged. “It’s the Cold Plains way.”

  A flash of distaste rippled over her expression and made him wonder, not for the first time, where her loyalties lived.

  “I could go with you,” he suggested. “I have to swing by the clinic myself.”

  “What are you going for?” she asked.

  He smirked at her seeming inquisitive nature and answered with a shrug. “I’m checking into some volunteer positions. I’ve heard the clinic is short staffed and I want to help.”

  “You’re so busy with the practice. You think you’ll have time to volunteer?” she asked, mildly incredulous. “Do you have something against enjoying a private life?”

  A private life… Even before Abby’s bombshell, he’d eschewed lazy Sundays at the lake for board meetings, operational committees and conferences sandwiched between shifts at the hospital. He couldn’t remember what it felt like to let his mind rest. Now his focus had changed, but his drive hadn’t. “I like to stay busy,” he said. “And I like to feel needed. Helping others is a good way to remind yourself of your blessings. Someone always has it worse than you.”

  Darcy’s expression faltered as if she’d realized her statement had smacked of selfishness, and she bit her lip. That single action, something she’d probably done a hundred times and he’d never noticed, drew his attention and held it for an inordinate slice of time. Why had she come to Cold Plains? What was the real reason? Little by little, she gave off signs and signals that she wasn’t the usual newcomer, yet she professed to be enamored with the Cold Plains lifestyle.

  “I don’t like needles,” she confessed, embarrassed. “I mean, I really don’t like needles. As in I’m a bit phobic. Is there a time limit for these tests?” she joked.

  “No, you can do them whenever you like. May I ask why you’re afraid of needles?”

  “Aren’t you afraid of anything?”

  Not finding Devin in time. Getting found out by Samuel before I get the answers I need… Yeah, he knew a thing or two about fear. “I don’t particularly like birds.”

  She did a double take. “Birds? As in, tweet-tweet?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah. Dirty menaces.”

  At that, she laughed, revealing a beautiful smile that knocked him back a bit. “You know, birds are everywhere,” she said.

  “Welcome to my life. Aren’t you glad you’re only afraid of needles?”

  “That does put things in perspective.”

  “Happy to help. You didn’t say why you were afraid of needles.”

  Her expression turned wistful. “No, I didn’t.” She drew a deep breath and said, “Well, I guess it’s because of my mom. She recently died of cancer, and the doctors were always poking her for one reason or another. She started to run out of places where they could poke her because her veins were collapsing and her body was covered in bruises. Every time I see a needle, I get sick to my stomach. It’s hard to deal with, the memories of what she went through. So I guess, if I had to pinpoint the origin, that would be it.”

  “I’m sorry to hear of your mother’s cancer.”

  “Yeah,” she murmured, ducking her head. “It’s still kind of raw. I try not to think about it.”

  “Is that why you came to Cold Plains?”

  “Yes,” she answered without hesitation, though there was something else in her eyes, but it was gone before he could place it. She brightened. “New place. New start. I need that. You know?” She gestured to the quaint, pristine street and the overall picture-perfect quality surrounding them. “And what a place to start fresh. This is like a little slice of heaven. Clean streets and air, a community that actually cares about each other…it’s just what I needed.”

  “That’s what most people say,” he agreed. “So, just let me know if you want someone to accompany you. I’d be happy to be the person to do that.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Black.”

  Rafe knew it was wise to keep the formality between them, but it felt wrong and forced. “Please, call me Rafe,” he said. “Unless you prefer Dr. Black, of course.”

  She seemed unsure, and he didn’t blame her. Hell, the minute he offered, he wondered if he shouldn’t have kept his mouth shut, but when she slowly nodded and gave him a sidewise grin as she said, “Rafe it is,” he knew things between them would start to change.

  He just wasn’t sure whether the change was good or not.

  Either way, something had just been set in motion.

  He could feel it.

  * * *

  Darcy watched as Rafe walked in his usual hands-in-pockets yet brisk style down the sidewalk toward his parked car, and tested Rafe’s name on her tongue a few times.

  It was sexy, no doubt about it.

  How many doctors were named Rafe? Doctors—like accountants or dentists—were given names like George, John or Tom.

  Not Rafe.

  Most doctors didn’t look like Rafe, either, at least not in Darcy’s experience.

  Everything about the sexy doc was surrounded by an air of mystery. Good Lord, she found that highly attractive.

  Bad. Bad. Bad.

  She should’ve politely reminded Rafe that a certain level of formality was good for employee-boss relations.

  But she liked that he’d offered.

  Darcy sighed. She supposed, try as she might, fighting her own nature was a losing battle.

  Before Louise died, Darcy had been a bit of a party girl. Not dangerous and recklessly so, but she’d enjoyed a good time or two.

  That seemed ages ago now.

  She checked her watch—it would be time for the nightly meeting soon. She had just enough time to get back to the hotel, freshen up and do some research before heading to the community center.

  But even as her mind processed the mountain of new information that seemed to come at her from all angles, she had trouble keeping her thoughts wrangled on the straight and narrow. Unfortunately, that party girl was still aliv
e and well inside of her, even if she’d been mostly subdued as of late.

  And that party girl liked what she saw in Rafe Black. She liked the fact that he was a bit mysterious—possibly dangerous—and most definitely hiding something behind those dark eyes. Overall, Rafe was a package deal of off-limits-stay-off-the-grass, and even as sternly as she reminded herself to steer clear, that was the exact opposite of what Party Girl wanted to do.

  The question was, how could she stay the course in her mission to find answers, without succumbing to that reckless impulse to get to know the good doc a bit better?

  It was yet another dilemma placed on an already full plate—and yet another opportunity to slip up in grand fashion with potentially deadly consequences.

  CHAPTER 10

  Rafe crossed the threshold of the clinic and enjoyed the bracing rush of cold air after being in the June heat. He walked straight to the chief of medicine’s office, having made an appointment to see him personally. He wasn’t going to waste time with people who didn’t have any power. Now that he’d operated his practice for a few months, he felt he had more to offer, that he’d proven his loyalty.

  Smile firmly in place, he walked into Dr. Virgil Cruthers’s roomy office and closed the door behind him when Virgil gestured for him to do so, before he took a seat across from him.

  “So good of you to see me on such short notice,” Rafe started, shaking the older man’s hand.

  Virgil Cruthers was a white-haired man with a face and body that would look quite natural in a red Santa suit, but Rafe saw past the soft wrinkles and grandfatherly demeanor to the sharp, cunning man behind the mask. He didn’t doubt Cruthers was a Devotee, otherwise Samuel wouldn’t have trusted Cruthers in such an important position. If anyone knew about a secret infirmary, Cruthers did—and likely oversaw the operation.

  This was the man whose trust Rafe needed to earn and the one who was likely as dangerous as Samuel.

  “I’m happy to meet with a colleague such as you, Rafe. You’ve earned yourself a bit of a reputation, son.”