The Best Catch in Texas

by Stella Bagwell

  Not if she could help it, Nicolette promised herself. The man’s charm was as lethal as a flaming arrow and she wasn’t about to put herself in the path of the man’s aim.

  To him she said, “Okay, Ridge it is. But as for us running into each other, I’m sure we’re both going to be very busy.” She glanced pointedly at her watch. “Which I am right now. I hope you’ll excuse me, but I have patients waiting.”

  She glanced up at him, figuring his expression would have cooled somewhat, but if anything, his smile had deepened and the gleam in his eye was even brighter.

  “Of course,” he said warmly. “I have work waiting on me, too. But we doctors need to take time out for ourselves, otherwise we’d need somebody to treat us.”

  To her indignation, he winked and then casually turned to go. Before he pushed through the swinging door, he said over his shoulder, “Nice meeting you, Nicolette.”

  That night, as Nicolette drove home to the Sandbur Ranch, she couldn’t stop thinking about the new Dr. Garroway. In fact, she was angry with herself because he’d popped in and out of her mind all day long. It wasn’t like her to be distracted by anyone or anything and she had to admit to herself that she was no better than the nurses who’d been awestruck over the man.

  It wasn’t as though the man had enthralled her, she argued with herself. No, it was more like he’d irritated her with that cocky grin and that roaming brown gaze. He’d looked at her as though he’d like to eat her. And that wink! It was the most unprofessional thing she’d ever seen. Sexy, true. But totally out of place. Why, the man had only met her minutes before!

  Forget it, Nicolette. Forget him, she muttered to herself as she parked her car and gathered her work from the passenger seat. She wasn’t going to be working closely with the man. Like she’d told him, she doubted their paths would cross all that much, so it wasn’t as if she would be dealing with his brashness on a daily basis.

  Now she was ready for a relaxing evening at home. The ranch house where Nicolette lived with her mother and younger brother, Lex, was built in traditional hacienda style with a stucco exterior, a terracotta tile roof and a long ground-level porch with arched supports. The house was huge, as was the other family home on the ranch where her cousins, Matt and Cordero Sanchez, resided.

  The Sandbur was not just a little spot near Victoria, Texas. It spread for thousands of acres, and at one time the Saddler and Sanchez families had been large enough to need the spacious houses. At least, when everyone was alive and all the children lived at home the leg room had been needed.

  Nowadays things were different. Her younger sister, Mercedes, was presently away serving in the Air Force, and Nicolette’s cousin, Lucita, was down in Corpus Christi teaching. As for Nicolette’s father, Paul, he’d been laid to rest ten years ago, and nearly six years ago her aunt Elizabeth had passed away from diabetes complications. Even Nicolette had left the ranch for a while during those nine years she’d been married to Bill. But that was another man and another time that Nicolette didn’t want to think about.

  As she approached the front porch, she saw two bamboo torches shedding a dim, flickering light over someone sitting in a wicker chair. Once she grew close, she could see it was her mother, Geraldine. The woman’s feet were propped up on a matching wicker coffee table, and a squatty tumbler was in her hand.

  Nicolette released a weary breath.

  “Good evening, Nicci. You’re very late getting home this evening.”

  “Hi, Mother.” She walked the length of the porch to where her mother sat, then bent to kiss her cheek. “What are you doing outside at this time of night? I told you—”

  “Now don’t start fussing with me, Nicci,” Geraldine interrupted. “I’ve been cooped up in the house for so long that I’m starting to feel like a nesting hen.”

  “Better the house than a hospital room,” Nicolette reminded her. “And by the way, what is that you’re drinking?”

  “Cook made me a mild margarita. And believe me, there’s not enough tequila in it to make a bird stagger, much less give your old mother a buzz, so quit worrying.”

  With another heavy sigh, Nicolette sank into a chair positioned at an angle to her mother’s. “I guess I sound bossy, don’t I? But I just want you to get back to your old self.”

  For the past two weeks Nicolette’s mother had been very ill with an acute case of summer bronchitis. At sixty-three Geraldine still looked young for her age and she was normally strong and healthy, but the summer had been extremely dry and dusty. With Lex and Matteo both busy, she’d taken on the job of overseeing the hay baling in the south meadow. The fog of dust and hay had done a number on her lungs and the only thing that had kept the woman out of the hospital was Nicolette’s diligent care.

  “I understand that, honey. And you have your right to gripe at me. I caused you to miss two weeks of work. How am I ever going to repay you?”

  Nicolette chuckled. Money was not an issue with her or any of her family for that matter. After nearly a century of raising some of the finest beef cattle and cutting horses in the business, the ranch had made both the Saddler and Sanchez families extremely wealthy. Nicolette worked in medicine because she’d always had a deep need to help people, not to make a living.

  “Stay out of the hayfield. That’s how.”

  The silver-haired woman held her glass out toward Nicolette. “Have a sip. From the looks of you, you need it.”

  Nicolette groaned. Her mother didn’t have to tell her she looked as tired as dirty dishwater. She’d unfortunately caught a glimpse of herself tonight in the restroom mirror before she’d left the clinic. Her brown hair was fuzzed, dark crescents smudged the skin beneath her eyes, and her skin was pasty with fatigue. If Dr. Ridge Garroway saw her now, she very much doubted he’d give her one of those gleaming smiles. But that didn’t matter, she silently insisted. She didn’t want one of his smiles or anything else the man had to offer. She wasn’t in the market for romance.

  “I do need a drink,” Nicolette admitted. “I’ve had a long, long day. Everyone seemed to be ailing with something. Dr. Kelsey couldn’t keep up and sent several patients down to my office.”

  Geraldine reached for the cell phone on the coffee table and began to punch numbers. “Poor darling, put your feet up and I’ll call Cook.”

  Nicolette did as her mother suggested and by the time she got settled, Cook appeared on the porch with a small pitcher of icy margaritas and a glass with a salted rim.

  Cook’s name was really Hattie Tibideaux, but she’d been the cook for the Sandbur for so many years that everyone simply called her by her profession. Her age had inched beyond seventy now, yet her tall, bony figure was more spry than a woman twenty years younger. In spite of her advanced age, her black hair was only sprinkled with sparse amounts of gray and most often it was pulled severely back from her face in either a ponytail or braid. Her fingernails and lips were always painted red and Nicolette figured the woman had been an exotic beauty in her heyday.

  “Thank you, Cook, you’re too sweet,” Nicolette told her as she placed the pitcher and glass on a small table between the two women.

  Cook rose up to her full height and with her hands on her slim hips gave Nicolette a quick survey.

  “You look like hell, Miss Nicci. Are they trying to kill you over there at that clinic?”

  “Not really. There’s just lots of sick folks these days.”

  The older woman clicked her tongue with disapproval. “Too much hustle and bustle. That’s what makes ’em sick. If things were quiet and slow, we’d all live a lot longer.”

  Nicolette gave the woman a tired smile. “Looks like the fast pace agrees with you, Cook. You don’t look a day older than you did ten years ago.”

  “Hah!” With a loud snort, she waved a dismissive hand at Nicolette and started toward the door. “I don’t have a fast pace, Miss Nicci, I stay in the kitchen. Where I’m happy.”

  The older woman disappeared into the house and Nicolette poured her
self a small drink. “I guess that’s Cook’s secret to good health and longevity. She’s happy,” she said pensively.

  Geraldine looked thoughtfully at her. “Speaking of being happy, there’s something on your face tonight, darling, that worries me. Is anything wrong? You’re not dwelling on Bill, are you?”

  Frowning, Nicolette took a long sip from her glass and glanced out at the wide lawn sloping away from the house. Huge spreading live oaks obstructed the view of the night sky, but between the dipping branches the twinkling lights of her cousin’s house could be seen, along with several nightlights skirting the barns and feed lots. For now the ranch was quiet and peaceful and she felt its soothing arms wrap around her weary shoulders.

  “If you think I’m still grieving over Bill, you couldn’t be more wrong,” she said flatly.

  Geraldine softly drummed her fingers against the arm of the lawn chair. “You can’t deny you were terribly hurt when he left you for that—that other woman.”

  Nicolette inwardly cringed. Tonight she was hardly in the mood to discuss Bill or her failed marriage, but she didn’t want to cut her mother’s questions short. Nicolette knew from experience that to do so would only make her mother dig more.

  “You know how I feel about that, Mother. It wasn’t entirely his fault. I left him alone too many nights and he…decided to stray.”

  “My Lord, you were working, Nicci! It wasn’t like you were out prowling with tom cats while he sat home pining for you.”

  That much was true, Nicolette thought dismally. But she’d worked incessantly to make herself forget that her husband had misled her, that none of the special plans they’d made before their marriage would ever come true.

  “Believe me, none of what Bill did or didn’t do matters anymore, Mother.”

  Geraldine rolled her eyes. “How can you say that when the whole horrible affair is still leading you around by the nose? If it didn’t matter, you would have already found yourself another man by now. You’d be married and having kids. Instead, you’re still killing yourself trying to doctor half the town!”

  Nicolette stiffened with resentment. “Is there anything wrong with that? I thought helping people to be healthy was a noble cause.”

  “Damn it, Nicci, it is noble. But there are other things to life, you know. I’d like to have grandchildren before I die.”

  The lonely pain that always lingered in Nicolette’s chest throbbed to life. “Lex or Mercedes will give you grandchildren, when the time comes. Besides, you’re a long way from dying, Mother.”

  A disbelieving snort slipped from the older woman as she eyed her eldest child. “I might be a long way from dying, but your brother and sister are even further away from giving me grandchildren. Lex is too much of a playboy to be settling down anytime soon, if ever. And as for Mercedes, she’s never going to get over that bastard in college that broke her heart. At least, not enough to marry and have a family.”

  For some odd reason, the image of Ridge Garroway popped into Nicolette’s mind and she wondered if he was a man who would want to settle down and have children. He seemed far from the sort. In fact, with his looks and playful charm, he could have a Nurse Good Body waiting for him in every nook and cranny of the hospital.

  Nicolette took another long sip of her drink and hoped the tequila would fuzz the intrusive image of the doctor’s impish grin. “Mercedes is in the Air Force, Mother. She has other things on her mind right now. Give her time.”

  Geraldine slowly shook her head in dismay. “I might as well face the fact that life is different from when I was your age,” she muttered. “Back then, young people considered finding a permanent mate an important part of their life.”

  “It still is important. It’s just more difficult for us to do.”

  As she absently combed fingers through her mussed hair, Nicolette glanced over at her mother. “What in the world has got you off on this subject anyway? It isn’t like you to start harping on your children.”

  Geraldine shrugged with concession. “I wasn’t thinking about any of it until you sat down here beside me and I saw your sad face. I thought it might be Bill, but—I guess I was wrong. Want to tell me?”

  Nicolette finished off the last of her drink and placed her glass next to the sweaty pitcher. “Don’t worry, Mother. I’ve had a very long day. On top of that I met the doctor who took Dr. Walters’s place.”

  Sudden interest caused Geraldine to sit straight up in her chair. “Oh? How did that go? What was he like?”

  It was all Nicolette could do to keep from groaning out loud. “He was—well, to be honest I’m shocked the clinic hired someone so young. I heard he’s twenty-nine.”

  “Being young is hardly a crime,” Geraldine pointed out.

  Nicolette grimaced. “It means he can’t have much experience.”

  “Everyone has to start at the beginning. You were there once,” Geraldine reminded her.

  Sighing, Nicolette said, “Yes, I know. But Dr. Walters was so wonderful. And this new man—just doesn’t seem that professional to me.”

  Geraldine’s brows arched upward. “Really? What makes you say that?”

  With the fingers of both hands, Nicolette massaged her aching forehead. How could she describe that gleam in Ridge Garroway’s eyes or that wink he’d given her without throwing for flags at her mother? “He, uh, just doesn’t look like a doctor,” she said lamely.

  Suddenly loud laughter erupted from Geraldine, causing Nicolette to cast an annoying look her mother’s way.

  “Why are you laughing? It’s the truth. He looked more like some—I don’t know—some playboy than a medical person.”

  Still chuckling, Geraldine asked, “Since when did looks have anything to do with being a doctor? C’mon, Nicci, don’t you think you’re reaching a little far to find something wrong with the man?”

  With thoughtful frown, Nicolette considered her mother’s question. Could Geraldine be right? she wondered. Had she already planted a seed in her mind to dislike the man before she’d ever met him? Perhaps. But that still didn’t account for that flirty attitude of his, she decided.

  “Okay, to be honest, I think he’s a big flirt. He said all sorts of…suggestive things to me. Like how he wished I’d chosen to work under him rather than Dr. Kelsey.”

  Geraldine laughed again. “What’s wrong with that? I’m sure the man has heard you’re good at your job.”

  Nicolette’s lips pursed with disapproval. “Yes, but it was the way he said it that rubbed me all wrong. He had this gleam in his eyes that made me feel like an idiot.”

  Geraldine placed a gentle hand on her daughter’s arm. “Don’t you mean it made you feel like a woman?”

  Her mother’s suggestion left Nicolette so uncomfortable she quickly jumped to her feet and snatched up the briefcase she’d propped against the legs of her chair.

  “I’m going to go take a shower and have a little supper,” she told her mother. “It’s getting late and I’ve got to be at the clinic very early in the morning.”

  Chapter Two

  A few minutes later, after showering and dressing in a robe, Nicolette was almost too tired to eat the plate of food Cook set in front of her. But eventually she managed to swallow down half of the broiled salmon and rice before she headed to her bedroom.

  She’d brought home several journal articles about new medications soon to be released, but as soon as she crawled into bed and picked up the first one, her eyelids began to droop.

  Two hours later she was sound asleep with the lamp on the nightstand still burning, when the telephone jangled loudly near her head. Since she had a private line she couldn’t rely on Cook or her mother to answer.

  Trying to shake away her grogginess, she reached for the phone and shoved her hair back from her face.

  “Hello.”

  “Is that you Ms. Saddler? Nicolette, isn’t it?”

  The voice sounded vaguely familiar but she couldn’t quite put a name to it. “Yes. Who is this?”r />
  “Dr. Garroway—Ridge—remember?”

  In spite of her numbing exhaustion, Nicolette shot straight up in the bed and gripped the receiver. “Doctor. Uh, why are you calling? It’s—” Twisting her head around toward the digital clock on the nightstand, she was shocked to see it was twenty minutes past midnight. “It’s very late. And—”

  “I’m sorry to wake you like this, Nicolette, but I’m having a little problem here at the hospital and—”

  His use of her first name distracted her even more and she blurted out with surprise, “You’re at the hospital?”

  “Uh, yes. I am a doctor,” he reminded dryly.

  She felt desperately stupid as she tried to wake herself up and gather her scattered senses. “Sorry. I’m not—I was sound asleep. You say you’re having a problem? What does that have to do with me?”

  There was a moment’s pause and then he said, “My patient is demanding to see you. Seems you’re his favorite doctor and he won’t trust me to treat him unless you’re here. I tried to explain—”

  “Who’s the patient?” Nicolette interrupted him again.

  “Dan Nelson. He’s—”

  Dan Nelson was ninety-one years old and had worked as a wrangler for the Sandbur until he was in his mideighties. He was a prickly pear of an old man, but she adored him. “Yes, yes, I know the man. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  “Wait, Nicolette. Driving to the hospital might not be necessary. Talking to him over the phone might work,” Ridge told her.

  “He’s more important to me than that,” she said curtly.

  There was another short pause and then he said, “All right, I appreciate your help. And by the way, I’m at the county hospital.”

  “I’ll find you.”

  Nicolette dropped the phone on its hook and scurried from the bed.

  As she hastily grabbed clothes from the closet, she groaned out loud. Meeting Ridge Garroway in the middle of the night was the last thing she wanted to do. But Dan needed her and she was a medical provider first, a woman second.