by Fiona Lowe
“This is Montana. Out here you have to deal with stuff a city doctor would refer on. You should write a paper about this.”
He tilted his head as if he were considering the idea. “Maybe I will. It will help keep my name out there while I’m out here.” His picked up his can of soda and his hand trembled on the ring pull.
“Adrenaline overload?”
“Yeah. You know how it is.” He leaned back against the counter. “It takes a while to fade.”
And she knew what he meant. Her head was buzzing as well. “I keep replaying everything over and over. I was terrified most of the time.”
“Yeah.” His mouth twisted. “Me too.”
His honesty surprised her. “No one knew. You did great.”
“Not too shabby.” His gaze narrowed slightly as his smile faded. “Especially as I’m not a surgeon.”
Warning bells, emergency sirens and flares went off in her head at his emphasis on surgeon. It was exactly the same intonation he’d used in the barn—the word coming out through gritted teeth. “No, you’re a talented ER physician.”
“I am.” He pushed off the counter, all coiled energy like a bobcat ready to pounce. “Thing is, the fact I’m not a surgeon seemed to bother you back in the barn.”
She shook her head. “It didn’t, but it obviously bothered you.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Katrina. You told me I’d passed except for being a surgeon.”
“You misheard me.” You don’t need to say anything else.
Only Josh had the look of a wounded animal deep in his eyes, and something pulled at her to explain. “Truth be told, the fact you’re not a surgeon was the deal-maker for me.”
He stared at her for a moment, and then his sexy mouth curved up into a wicked grin. Running the tip of his finger gently down her arm, he said softly, “Deal-maker, eh?”
A spark of intense need jolted her so hard she almost fell into his arms, but the questions in her head stopped her. “You made it a deal-breaker. Why?”
His finger continued its journey, leaving her shoulder and tracing a line along her collarbone. “You seriously want to have this conversation now when we could be celebrating a hell of a good save?”
He’s got a point. Listen to him. Her body begged her to give in to him as her blood thickened with growing desire. She fought it with everything she had. “Something upset you in the barn, and I’m a woman, Josh. We need to talk before we get intimate.”
His eyes darkened into sparkling silver as his finger caressed the hollow at the base of her throat. “You didn’t need to talk in the barn.” He dropped his mouth to her ear. “In fact, if I remember correctly,” he said huskily, “you were incapable of talking.”
His voice took her back there and heaven knows, she couldn’t deny it. She’d moaned at the touch of his mouth, at the touch of his hands on her hot and pleading skin and at the press of his hard body against hers. She’d been lost in the wonder of it all.
Her cheeks burned at the memory and embarrassment made her cross her arms. “You pulled away, Josh.”
He lifted his head. “I guess that leaves us one-for-one, then,” he said tightly.
She sighed. “So you’re not going to tell me what’s going on?”
“There’s nothing to tell. I’m an open book.”
She snorted. “No one who chooses to move to Bear Paw is an open book. They’re usually running from something. The law, relationships, themselves.”
He cocked one brow. “Speaking for yourself, are we?”
Damn it. He was too smart by half. “I told you why I’m back home.”
“Yeah, you’re taking a break.” Nothing about his demeanor said he believed her. “Why I’m here is simple math. Bear Paw plus work equals less money owed on student loans, and that means after time served, I can head back east and afford to buy an apartment.”
“That doesn’t rule out running from something. For a man with a plan you’re not exactly happy about it.”
He tucked her hair behind her ear and goose bumps of anticipation skimmed across her skin. Smiling down at her, with the dimple in his chin dancing, he said, “If I tell you, can we stop talking and have sex?”
A burst of indignation swelled in her. “You’re bargaining with me for sex. What an interesting line in seduction.”
He stepped away from her, all of his tension returning fast. “Oh and your midforeplay interrogation in the barn wasn’t?”
“So, you think we should have just rolled in the hay, no questions asked?”
“No, but you were all hung up on if I was single or not. Not one of your questions had anything to do with sexual health, which was the logical one I was expecting, given we were minutes from having sex.”
A slither of panic scuttled along her veins. “I was not going to have sex with you in a barn.”
But he hadn’t heard her. She saw the moment on his face when he’d put two and two together. “The last guy you were with wasn’t single, was he?”
She wanted to hide so badly it hurt, but his gaze had her pinned down with no place to run. “No. He was far from single. Only, it took me a lot of months to realize.”
Skepticism crossed his face. “How could you not know?”
And this was the exact reason she never told anyone about Brent, because it left her looking like a fool. “Don’t judge me on something you know nothing about.”
He frowned. “But there had to be hints, right?”
Virtually none. “Not when you’re both working a busy schedule, one of you is trusting and the other is a lying and scheming bastard.”
“You’ve left a good job in a cath lab.” He started numbering off on his fingers. “You’re in Bear Paw and you told me you wouldn’t kiss me at work.” Intelligent eyes bored into her, and with terrifying clarity she saw all the pieces fall into place. “This guy was a cardiac surgeon you worked with, right?”
“No.” But the word came out too fast, too defiant and way too protesting.
His face softened. “If it helps, they’re usually arrogant bastards.”
She hated that he knew. That he’d exposed the secret she’d held on to so tightly for so long. She didn’t want his sympathy for her stupidity. “And you’re not?”
He shrugged. “I might be arrogant from time to time but I’m not a bastard.”
Memories of Brent’s life-changing lie made her come out hitting. “I don’t know you well enough to be sure.”
“Ouch. And you once told me you weren’t bitter.”
He raised his can of soda to her in a mocking salute before draining the can. “Look, I’m on your side.”
“Oh, sure you are. You just accused me of being blind and stupid.”
“No,” he said firmly. “You’re doing a good enough job of that all on your own.”
His words burned with an accuracy she wanted to deny, and she opened her mouth, but he spoke first.
“All I’m saying is that I know surgeons.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Believe me, I know them well. My father’s one, as was his father and his father before that.”
Something about the way he said it made her recall the other times he’d mentioned his father. It had never been in a positive way. “So you’re the renegade of the family?” she quipped, moving toward him, desperate to lighten the mood. Between the two of them, it had plummeted as fast as the thermometer in January. She hated the way memories of Brent left her feeling empty, worthless and angry. She craved to forget it all by kissing Josh.
“That’s one way of putting it.” He crunched the can in his hand and tossed it neatly into the trash can. “Thanks for the illuminating conversation, Katrina,” he said, moving sideways and clearly dismissing her, “but it’s been a long day and I’m beat.”
Regret rammed her on so many levels it made her dizzy. He was rejecting her. He’d found out her secret—the one she’d held on to for weeks—and now he was asking her to leave.
She picked up her purse. “Fine. I
guess I’ll see you round.”
His mouth firmed into an intransigent line. “No doubt, given there’s no damn place to hide in Bear Paw.”
Ten minutes ago, he’d wanted to get her naked and into bed. Now his entire body language was neutral—the detached doctor she hadn’t seen for a while was firmly back in place. All of the exciting and vibrant post-emergency high that had been bouncing off of him had vanished, and along with it, all of his energy and spark.
She made her way to the door.
“Katrina?”
She turned. “Yes?”
“This”—he waved his forefinger back and forth between them—“is a perfect example of why talking is such a bad idea.”
As she closed the door quietly behind her, both her sex-starved body and her sad and aching mind agreed.
Chapter 10
Josh was glad it was Monday. Saturday had been his best-ever day in Bear Paw, but Sunday had totally sucked.
He’d spent it feeling dislocated, lonely and cross. Saving Sam had highlighted how much he loved the buzz of ER work and how mundane he found a lot of the clinic hours. He was still pissed at Floyd for concealing the truth of his contract and at Bear Paw for not being what he’d thought. He was pissed at himself for having let the past he was certain he’d dealt with raise its ugly head and do its usual damage.
But he was even more pissed at Katrina for ruining what could have been an amazing night. A great celebration of their teamwork and success. They’d saved a kid’s life. God, it was the ultimate high, a powerful aphrodisiac, but she’d gone and stuffed it up—complicated what should have been simple and amazing.
Shit. What was it about women and talking? He and Ashley had talked for weeks and weeks, and for what? She was still in Chicago, living the life she wanted—the one he’d helped her create—and where was he? West of civilization as he knew it. Granted, Bear Paw was a town with many good people, but he shared nothing in common with any of them.
Be fair. Ty’s good company. Katrina’s—
No. He didn’t want to be fair with any thoughts to do with Katrina. He sure as hell didn’t want to think about what that bastard in Philadelphia had done to her.
He checked for traffic—there was none—before stepping off the curb, crossing Main Street. He’d left his car at the garage for an oil change and was walking to the clinic. He passed by the hardware store where a group of men were standing outside in the almost summer sunshine, drinking coffee.
“Hey, Doc,” Brody Addison, the owner of the hardware store called out to him, “I sold you that drill for making holes in wood, not skulls.”
All the men laughed.
Grinning at the attention, Brody continued, “You need any more tools for the hospital, you let me know. A mighty fine circular saw just arrived in stock.”
“Thanks,” Josh said, walking over to the group, “but I’m not planning on doing any open heart surgery.”
The man paled. “You serious? They use a saw?”
Josh grinned, enjoying the fun. “They sure do. They open the chest with it. It makes a hell of a lot of noise and bone chips fly everywhere.”
The guys gulped their coffees and Josh stifled a laugh.
“So how’s little Sam doing?” Brody asked a moment later, clearly shifting the subject away from the gory to the more important.
“He’s good. He should be back home by the end of the week.”
“Oh, that soon?” He slapped Josh on the back. “That’s real good to hear.”
“You might not be from around here, Doc, but you seem to know your stuff,” another of the men added. Everyone nodded their agreement.
Josh reckoned this was probably as demonstrative as it was going to get, but he appreciated the taciturn sentiments. It was certainly more than he’d gotten in the weeks he’d spent here, and it made a change from the grumbles that he did things differently from Randall.
His phone rang with an unknown number. “Excuse me, fellas, I should take this.”
“Sure thing. You have a good day, Doc.”
“Thanks.” He swiped the touch screen. “Josh Stanton.”
“It’s Joe Beck from the radio station, Doctor Stanton. I hear you drilled a hole into Sam Duckett’s head with your power drill.”
Word had obviously spread. “I did emergency burr holes, yes.”
“Right. Thing is, I’m getting calls from a lot of other stations in the state wanting an interview from you. Can we do a live telephone interview now?”
He started walking toward the clinic. “Sure. Go right ahead.”
“And we’re on air in five, four, three, two, one. Doctor Stanton, can you tell us what happened on Saturday night?”
Josh answered a series of questions from Joe about the decisions he’d made and why.
“So, Doctor Stanton, do you have to do these burr holes often?”
“Most doctors go their entire career without needing to do burr holes because there’s always a neurosurgeon at the city hospitals, but this is Bear Paw,” he said, loving that he could use the expression that had been said to him so many times. “I couldn’t have done it alone, and I was lucky to have help from Millie Switkowski and Katrina McCade.”
“Well, they’re both Montana born and raised, so you were in good hands. Any advice to the listeners out there?”
He knew it would be ignored but he said it anyway. “Wear helmets on four-wheelers.”
“And there you have it, folks. That was Doctor Stanton, Bear Paw’s new doctor,” Joe said, concluding the interview just as Josh arrived at the clinic.
He pocketed his phone and pushed open the door. As he entered the waiting room, applause greeted him.
“Here he is,” Doris said. “We just heard you on the radio, dear. You’ll be as famous as George soon.”
Millie leaned over the reception desk, her spiral curls springing. “Floyd hasn’t found anyone yet to be receptionist, so I told him to call Katrina and yes, you’re welcome.”
Bethany raised her crutch and pointed it at him accusingly. “You’re late. So if you’re done being a celebrity, I’d appreciate you starting work. I’ve got bingo at ten.”
His fifteen seconds of appreciation thudded to a halt. Life in Bear Paw was totally back to normal.
—
HAVING let Benji have his head for the last mile, Katrina rode into the home pasture and her father strolled over and caught the reins. She swung out of the saddle. “Thanks, Dad.”
“It’s good to see you riding.”
She grinned. “I forgot how much I loved this place.”
He walked alongside her as they made their way to the barn. “Ty said you’re roping for him on Saturday.”
She gave him a sideways glance, wondering if this was a statement or criticism. “He’s prepared to give me a go.”
Her father grunted. “Of course he is. He’s a single guy and you’re a pretty girl.”
Exasperation exploded out of her. “Dad, I’m a twenty-nine-year-old woman.”
“I know you are, sweet pea. Doesn’t change the fact that Ty might be trying to keep on your good side. You could do worse than Ty.”
Believe me, Daddy, I already have. “Ty’s a great guy, but I’ve been away a long time.”
“And you’re back now.” He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. “So what are your plans?”
“Brushing Benji, grabbing a shower and helping with supper.”
“I meant what are your future plans? Are you staying in Bear Paw for good?”
An image of gray eyes, brown curly hair and a mouth that kissed like a god shot into her mind. An image of temptation. It bounced off the paternal matchmaking and general frustrations of living back at home. “I’m going to Ecuador for three months.”
Kirk frowned. “When?”
“Any day. I’m just waiting for confirmation of the travel details.”
“You know the hospital would have you work there. They’re always chasing staff.”
She thoug
ht of Monday’s phone call from Floyd offering her the clinic job, which immediately made her think of Josh. Again. She should have been relieved he’d backed off in the early hours of Sunday morning and that yet again, she’d dodged a bullet. Only thing was, she wanted to take one for the team. So badly. And she knew that was poor judgment on her part and it meant going back on every promise she’d made herself. Which was why she was going to Ecuador.
“I’ll talk to Floyd tomorrow,” she said to placate her father. It was the truth, only not quite in the way her dad thought. She needed to let Floyd know she wasn’t taking the job. “Oh, before I forget, I rode to the west boundary and there’s a hole in the fence near Ty’s place. Two cows were in the coulee mud, but I managed to drive them out.”
“Thanks. I’ll get onto it now.”
She thought about how back in the day she and her dad used to do a lot together. “I’ll come, too. It will be fun.”
He took off his cap and rubbed his head. “Actually, if you want to help out, give your mom a hand.”
Annoyance prickled yet again and this time she cracked. “Dad, you know I can do any job on the ranch. Why are you always pushing me back toward the house?”
His bright blue eyes dimmed. “Because I’m worried about your mom.”
The unexpected answer startled her. “Why?”
He sighed. “She’s not been herself lately. Surely you’ve noticed?”
Katrina thought about the last few weeks. Usually, when she came home her mom fussed and wouldn’t let her do anything to help. This time, she was aware of doing a lot more around the house, which she’d put down to the fact she was living back at home and not just visiting for a few days. “Has she said what’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “Whenever I ask, she says she’s fine. I wouldn’t call her depressed, but she’s not been herself. She doesn’t—” He suddenly looked really uncomfortable. “Maybe it’s the change. You’re a nurse. Can you talk with her?”
Talk to her mother about menopause? The woman who’d never been sick in her life and considered illness a weakness? Not that menopause was an illness. Still, that would be one fun conversation . . . not. “I guess.”
