But she’s already found Mr. Right...

She would rather call her impending nuptials planned than arranged, but she’s certain her fiancé is her perfect match. Still, Dr. Meera Malhotra jumps at the opportunity to spend the month before her wedding doing a medical rotation in small-town USA. Getting a taste of independence and improving public health are both part of her plan. Falling for a cowboy? Not so much. Jake Taylor is totally wrong for her, anyway: he raises cattle; she’s a vegetarian. He’s content with life on the ranch; she’s from bustling London and wants to travel. She couldn’t possibly throw away everything she’s built over something as illogical as love.

Meera screamed as the mechanical bull bucked underneath them.

Jake felt her shift in the seat, and he tightened his hold on her hand, gripping her firmly at the waist to steady her. He had ridden this bull a thousand times, but riding it with Meera...hmm.

His body was now molded against hers, and they rolled and moved in unison as the bull bucked. She was laughing so hard, her head snapped sideways and she lost her balance. He reached for her and... They landed on wood chips, Meera first. He braced his arms so he wouldn’t crush her.

The crowd went wild, cheering, whistling and screaming louder than ever. He looked into her glittering eyes. He didn’t know if it was the adrenaline from the bull ride, or just...Meera...but his heart was galloping like a prize-winning race horse.

This girl is going to be the end of me.

Dear Reader,

Marriage makes us face the conflicting worlds of familial traditions, our own values and beliefs, and what we envision for the future. First Comes Marriage is the story of Meera, a woman firmly rooted in her family who grapples with her Indian cultural beliefs and the permanent ache in her heart that comes from wanting something she’s never had...what we all want: unconditional love.

Meera is engaged to a family friend in London. It’s a marriage arranged between families with ties so strong, breaking them will unravel Meera’s whole world. So what’s she supposed to do when she falls for an American cowboy?

While I was writing this story, I laughed, cried and snorted tea from my nose. I hope you’ll enjoy the fusion of Western romance with epic, Bollywood-style drama.

To learn more about arranged marriages, past to present, East to West, or to find out where in the world Bollywood is, visit my website at sophiasasson.com. I also have a playlist by chapter of country tunes and Bollywood music to put you in the mood as you read. Plus free extras on the town, recipes for barbecue and vegetable curry, and more. I love hearing from readers, so please find me on Twitter (@SophiaSasson) or Facebook (SophiaSassonAuthor), or email me at Readers@SophiaSasson.com.

Enjoy!

Sophia

First Comes Marriage
Sophia Sasson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

SOPHIA SASSON puts her childhood habit of daydreaming to good use by writing stories that go to the heart of human relationships. Sophia was born in Bombay, India, has lived in the Canary Islands, Spain, and Toronto, Canada, and currently calls the madness of Washington, DC, home. She loves to read, travel to exotic locations in the name of research, bake, explore water sports, watch foreign movies and hear from readers. Contact her through sophiasasson.com.

To my husband. You make me believe that love really does conquer all.

Acknowledgments

This book, and the ones to come, are thanks to my wonderful editor Claire Caldwell, who had faith in my writing from the start, and Victoria Curran, who finds me interesting enough to put up with. Their feedback is invaluable.

My writing has come a long way thanks to my fabulous critique partner, author Jayne Evans, who knows how to ground me without clipping my wings.

Also, thanks to the wonderfully supportive romance writers and authors I’ve met through Facebook and online communities. I’m grateful to be part of this group that shares successes, and to help each other achieve our happily-ever-afters.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Acknowledgments

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

“I DON’T MEAN to disturb you...”

“Then don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Disturb me.”

Meera sighed in frustration. Americans! Does he have to be so rude? She stood on her tiptoes, peeking over the stall door. She could only see his back. White T-shirt, snug jeans streaked with mud and a straw cowboy hat. He knelt in front of a black mare who whinnied as he lifted her leg.

Meera took a breath. The air was thick with the smell of animal manure. “Pardon me,” she said more forcefully. “I understand you have a room to let.”

He turned and her breath caught. Too much dust in the air. Green eyes sparkled mischievously, sandy-blond hair glistened angelically in the sunlight and a broad smile showed straight, white teeth. All perfectly packaged in a tall, athletic body. She blinked.

“‘To let’? Is that French for ‘toilet’?” he drawled.

Thank you for changing your image from American cowboy to Forrest Gump.

She put on her best finishing-school smile. When in Rome... She had to remember to speak redneck.

“Sorry, it’s British for ‘do you have a room for rent?’”

He stood, surveying her. She smoothed her black pantsuit, wishing for the millionth time she’d dressed more casually, especially in this oppressive heat. He patted his hands on his jeans, sending up clouds of dirt. She sneezed and instinctively brushed her arms. “Why would the Queen of England want a room at my dusty ranch?” The tone was sardonic, his eyes crinkling.

She pressed her lips together. She would rather leave than deal with such arrogance, but this was her last option for a place to stay tonight. This being her first time in America, she really didn’t want to test her precarious, wrong-side-of-the-road driving skills to search for accommodations in the dark. “If you must know—”

“I must.” He mimicked her tone and accent.

She took a short breath. Keep your cool—remember you made the decision to be in this middle-of-nowhere town. “I’m doing a medical rotation with Dr. Harper.” Despite her frustration, she couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice. Even if she couldn’t be in New York, she would still get a month to herself and a much-needed break from wedding planning. She wouldn’t let anything—or anyone—spoil it for her.

“Ah, lemme guess—Marty said you couldn’t stay at his inn.”

“And it seems you would be able to tell me why.”

His eyes danced with amusement. “Because the town doesn’t want you to stay.”

She tapped a finger against her thigh. I’ve only been here a day. What could I possibly have done to turn a whole town against me?

He opened the stall door, and Meera took a step back. He leaned forward, and she took another step back. He towered over her. She was only five feet tall and he was north of six. He smelled of dirt, sweat and something...manly. She shifted. Why must he stand so close?

He wiped a hand on his jeans and held it out to her. “Jake Taylor.”

He raised his eyebrows as she eyed his hand, still caked with dirt. She took it, meeting his gaze and feeling the gritty roughness of his skin.

“Meera Malhotra.”

“Ah, what now?”

“Mee-ra Mal-hot-ra,” she said more slowly.

“Well, that’s quite a name. Welcome to Hell’s Bells.”

“Hell’s Bells? I thought the town name was Bellhaven.”

“The townspeople call it Hell’s Bells. There’s a story behind it.”

He let go of her hand and picked up her suitcase. Apparently, she was not going to hear the story today. She followed him out of the barn, struggling to keep up with him in her heels as he strode across the field. The point of her heel kept getting stuck in the mud. He looked back, his lips curved in a smirk.

“Bollocks!” She reached down and took off her shoes, noticing the ruined heels. So much for the Manolo Blahniks. This was not the place for her London wardrobe.

“Are you coming, princess?”

“I thought I was the Queen of England!”

“You’ve been demoted.”

She rolled her eyes; he would be a handful.

He extended his arm, offering his hand to her. She eyed it warily, not wanting to touch him again.

“Come on now, I don’t have all day waitin’ on your delicate feet to make the trek.”

She sighed and took his hand. It was warm and large. Grass and clover tickled her feet as he firmly but gently tugged her across the field.

They arrived at a gravel road. She slipped her shoes back on and eyed the big stately house at the end of it.

Wow! The place could have been Tara from Gone with the Wind, one of her favorite movies. Ivy grew up the white stone walls. There was a wraparound porch on the main level and a balcony on the second story. They climbed a set of brick steps that led to the front door. Jake opened it and set her suitcase down.

Her eyes widened as she took in the two-level foyer. A double staircase wound up to the second floor, and worn-out gilding begged to be shined on the banisters. Dark wood floorboards were covered in a light blanket of dust. A coffered ceiling replete with cobwebs finished the look. Meera’s home was considered a small palace, especially by London standards, but this house was something else. Despite the grandeur, it lacked the stuffiness of aristocracy. Black-and-white family pictures, some yellowed with age, hung on the walls in different-sized frames. There was a spaciousness and welcoming charm that was missing in her family home.

“This is beautiful.” Her heels tapped the floor as she walked over to a door and touched the handle. She immediately brushed the dust off her hands. “Why are these closed?”

“It’s an old estate and very hard to keep up. We close the rooms we don’t use.”

Meera nodded as if it made complete sense. But why wouldn’t you maintain your home?

“There’s no kitchen in the guesthouse, so you can use the one in the back here.” He pointed to the only open doorway. “I try to keep the fridge stocked for the ranch hands. Help yourself to anything you want.” He grabbed a set of keys.

“Come on, your house is this way.”

My house? He took her around the side of the building. Meera gaped at the small stone cottage. Pretty rose vines crawled up the side. The front yard was overgrown with weeds, but she could already see the possibility of a proper English garden. Jake opened the front door.

Inside, all the furniture was covered with white sheets.

“You’ll have to dust things out...been a while since anyone was in here.”

Was it her imagination, or did his face flicker with sadness?

He showed Meera two bedrooms, a living room and a bathroom.

“This is quite a guest cottage. Has it always been here?”

“It used to be the servants’ quarters. I gutted it several years ago and made it into a house for...” His expression changed into something Meera couldn’t read. “Into a guesthouse.”

Meera looked around and felt excitement bubble through her. This is just perfect—exactly what I need. It would take some work to clean up, but it was quaint and peaceful and all hers. For a whole month she wouldn’t have to answer to anyone, live up to expectations or deal with her usual obligations. Freedom! Spending a month in this small town was a small price to pay.

“This is wonderful, thank you. What will you charge?”

“How about an exchange of services?”

“I beg your pardon?” Meera’s muscles tightened. Maybe she’d been too quick to judge Jake. She suddenly realized that she had walked into a place all alone, trusting a complete stranger.

“You’re a doctor, right?”

She nodded, relieved.

“My ranch hands haven’t seen a doctor in years. I have twelve people—three women and nine men. I’d like you to give them a physical here on the ranch, make sure they’re good.”

Meera frowned. “Why don’t they have a primary care doctor?”

“They don’t have health insurance. I’ve been looking into gettin’ them some.”

“Oh,” she said simply. She knew America didn’t have a National Health Service, but didn’t people with jobs have benefits? What could she possibly do on the ranch without a proper clinic or medical supplies? Her father had given her his old-fashioned doctor’s bag with a stethoscope and basic supplies when she completed medical school at King’s College. She considered it a sentimental gift but was glad she’d brought it along. “I’d be happy to do what I can for them, but if they need blood work, X-rays or any tests, they’ll have to come to the clinic or possibly the hospital. I really can’t do much by myself here.”

He nodded. “Most of ’em can’t afford to see a doctor. Just having you do a checkup will be more than they’ve gotten in years.”

Years without seeing a doctor? Her father’s medical practice in London was full of affluent patients; that’s why her supervisor had insisted she do this small-town rotation before he would sign off on the completion certificate for her research doctorate. She had tried to talk him into letting her go to New York—her father had even pulled some strings to line up a placement there—but her supervisor wouldn’t budge. He’d said she needed to understand how “real” people received medicine.

Maybe this would work out better than she’d expected. “It’s settled, then. And I insist on paying for my groceries.”

He glanced at her appraisingly, and she warmed under his gaze. “I doubt you’ll put a dent in our stock.” Jake waved as he stepped over the threshold to leave.

She stared at him. Her best friend and cousin, Priya, would look at someone like Jake and get giggly. Meera could objectively acknowledge his handsomeness, but she saw the swagger that came with it. Not at all like Raj.

“Before you leave, could you tell me why the town doesn’t want me to stay?”

He turned back and laughed. “Oh, you’ll find out soon enough.”

Her phone chirped, distracting her. She took it out of her purse and looked at the screen. Her mother probably had another wedding-planning crisis. She needed to take the call.

* * *

“HURRY IT UP, sun’s almost up.” Jake drained his coffee and stood. Most of his staff were gathered for breakfast. It wasn’t quite six in the morning, but the room was brightening. He wondered whether Meera would be up early; she must be jet-lagged. He hadn’t seen her since he’d shown her to the guest cottage last evening.

He would never forget the image of her standing in his barn. She wasn’t what he’d expected. He’d heard about what happened in town yesterday. The way everyone was talking, he figured she would show up at his door eventually. He hadn’t planned on letting her stay—he didn’t need any more gossip about him going around—but something made him change his mind.

What was Meera’s deal, anyway? Why would she want to come to his little town? From the clothes she was wearing, those ridiculous heels, not to mention the fancy luggage, she obviously didn’t need the money.

He felt a punch on his shoulder. “Earth to Jake! What’re the orders, boss?”

He shook his head to clear Meera from his brain, then quickly barked out the day’s assignments.

“Billy John, it’s your turn to make dinner. And please, none of that awful chili you made last time.”

Billy John began to defend himself to a chorus of insults, and Jake slapped him good-naturedly. Suddenly, his eye caught a flash of yellow in the doorway.

“Ah, this is our new renter, or ‘paying guest,’ as she would call herself.” He said the last part in a British accent.

She rolled her eyes. What’s wrong with me?

She peered into the kitchen, her movements tentative. She looked different in a simple yellow sundress; the color complemented her milk-chocolate skin. Her big brown eyes were awestruck, her already petite frame even tinier in the soaring doorway. The room went unusually quiet.

He glanced around his kitchen and realized what an overwhelming sight they all made. Nine burly men and three loud women would intimidate anyone.

“Hello, everyone, I’m Meera Malhotra.” Her voice was soft.

Silent stares greeted her. Jake started to say something when she gave them a disarming smile.

“If you couldn’t tell, I’m not from around here. I’m from London. I’m a doctor, here to do a one-month medical rotation with Dr. Harper.”

“Good luck with that.”

Jake smacked Billy John on the back of his head. Meera’s eyes widened.

Jake quickly interjected. “Now, listen up, I’ve asked Dr. Mal...” He frowned at Meera.

“Malhotra, but please call me Meera.”

“I’ve asked Dr. M. to give you all physicals—” there was a chorus of groans and protests “—which will be mandatory if you want to work here. So shut it. Last one to get their checkup will have to clean the entire house top to bottom.” More groans followed. “And I do mean the whole house.”

“Please don’t worry. I’ll make it as quick and painless as possible,” Meera said soothingly.

The protests and general grumbling continued as everyone rinsed their dishes and filed out. Meera stood in the corner watching the whole process, her brows creased, eyes dark.

“Don’t worry—they’ll come around.”

“I’m not worried about them.” She hesitated. “No more so than the rest of the town, anyway. I still don’t know what I did yesterday to make everyone so cross.”

Jake smiled. She’s in for a surprise. I bet she’ll be packing her bags this afternoon.

“Why come here all the way from London?”

She shrugged. “I was required to do a one-month rotation and thought it might be fun to do it in a small town.”

“But why here? Why not someplace closer to home?”

“I’ve never been anywhere outside the UK on my own. Or India—that’s where my parents and I are from originally. I’ve always wanted to visit America, and this seemed like a good opportunity. Besides, it will be good for me to learn how medicine is practiced in rural areas like this one.” She sounded rehearsed. There was definitely more to the story; it was written all over her face.

“That sounds like a mighty boring reason to be here all month.”

She began twisting the watch on her wrist. Jake sensed she wanted to say more, but she didn’t continue. What aren’t you telling me, Meera?

“Well, you might get more than you bargained for, but I’m sure you’ll make the best of it.” She bit her lip, and Jake found himself staring at the way her mouth moved.

“Won’t you give me a hint of what to expect when I go into town today?” she pleaded.

He laughed and shook his head. “There’s no way to explain it. You’ll have to experience it for yourself.”

“Any words of advice?”

He grinned. “Yeah, give ’em hell!”

She laughed. It was a pleasant, tinkling sound, and for some reason he wanted to make her do it again.

“Well, thank you for giving me a room—the cottage is just what I need for the month.” She got a faraway look in her eye. “Do you own this ranch?” she asked suddenly.

“My father does. It’s been in my family for a long time, passed down four generations now.”

“So you grew up here, then?”

He nodded. “I was born right upstairs and spent my whole life here.”

“Must be nice to have roots.” Her voice had a sad longing in it.

“It’s what makes this my home.” Jake was surprised to hear his own voice catch. Home...this ranch is so much more than home.

“Is your father still alive?”

Jake shifted on his feet; Meera was too nosy. He didn’t like answering questions about his family. “Yes.”

“Does he live here?”

“No, he’s suffering from Alzheimer’s. He’s in a nursing home.”

“What about your mother?”

He focused on the cattle grazing in the fields outside the window. His mother was a topic he didn’t discuss, not even with himself.

“She doesn’t live here,” he said sharply, then turned away from her.

Meera stepped back. “I’m sorry—I was just trying to get to know you.”

“You’re renting a room at my ranch. We don’t need to be friends.”

She muttered something under her breath.

“What’s that, now?”

“Nothing. Do you have any tea?”

He pointed to the pot. “Try coffee—packs more of a punch.”

“It’s okay, I’ll pick some up in town today.”

“Good luck with that.” Mr. Cregg owned the only store in Hell’s Bells, and he was about to lose a major bet thanks to Meera.

She leaned against the counter, pressing a hand to her head, as if massaging a headache.

He sighed. She was all alone in a new place. The least he could do was to be nice and stop giving her a hard time about everything.

“I left you a plate of bacon, sausage and eggs.” He motioned toward the heaping plate on the counter.

She swallowed, and her nose twitched.

What now?

“Do you have any toast?”

He pointed to the bread box.

“I’ll just have that.”

He bristled. “I’m a pretty decent cook, you know, and the bacon and sausage are fresh from the ranch.”

“When you say ‘from the ranch’...what exactly do you mean?”

He looked at her quizzically. “I mean we raise the animals here.”

“And then slaughter them?”

“That’s what ranchers do.”

Her lips curved downward. “Well, that’s something to think about.”

Now she was rubbing her temples with both hands. He studied her carefully. “Out with it.”

“Out with what?”

“With whatever’s making you look like someone’s drilling your brain.”

“Oh, it’s just that...I’m a vegetarian.”

“What?”

“A vegetarian. I don’t eat meat or any product that requires killing a living—”

“I know what a vegetarian is. Look at you, all bones, it’s no wonder.”

“Please tell me you don’t raise cows here, to be killed.”

He looked at her in disbelief. “It’s a cattle ranch!” He motioned at the grazing cattle outside.

She grabbed the back of a seat. Her caffe-latte skin paled. He pulled a seat out, encouraging her to sit down, and she slumped into the chair. The last thing he needed was for the doctor to require medical attention. She muttered to herself.

“What is it?”

She began to say something, then closed her mouth.

“Oh, come on.”

“Well...just that... I was raised as a Hindu. We believe the cow is a sacred animal and hurting one, or being anywhere near where one is being tortured, may bring bad karma for an entire lifetime...and possibly the next several lives.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“You’re a doctor, right? You went to medical school? Where they teach you about the brain and science and how the universe works?”

She glared at him. “This isn’t about science. Even if you don’t believe in reincarnation, you’re raising a living organism for the sole purpose of killing it.”

“The animal provides us with food.”

“There is plenty of plant-based food for us to eat. We don’t need to live at the expense of another being.”

“The animals only exist because I bring them into the world for food.”

“And it’s wrong to create something just to destroy it. In my culture, the cow is sacred because it gives us milk...it gives us life. We call it gai mata, mother cow. For generations she has fed us, and the karma of killing her—”

“Cows are considered sacred because your ancestors used them to plough the fields and didn’t want people to kill them for meat in times of famine. It was a practical decision, not a spiritual one.”

She raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

“I would ask that you not mock my beliefs. I’m not asking you to stop cattle ranching, just explaining my reservations. I’ll see about finding some other accommodations in town today.”

“Yeah, good luck with that.”

She blew out a sigh of frustration and buried her head in her hands.

Jake suppressed a smile. Why am I enjoying this? He studied the small hands cradling her head. She looked so fragile.

Wait... He went to the pantry and rummaged around. He knew he’d seen this. He handed her a box, and she looked at him gratefully. She opened it and took out a tea bag, reading the label. “Fertility tea?” she asked with amusement.

He swore under his breath. No good deed goes unpunished.

He shrugged. “It probably belongs to one of the ranch hands. I don’t ask questions,” he said quickly. It was Jolene’s tea. Why was Jolene drinking fertility tea?

“Well, I’ve got to get going,” he said. “There’s work to do.”

She nodded and stood up. “May I rummage in your cupboards for a cup and kettle?”

“Yeah, good luck with that.”

He didn’t miss her pursing her lips as she turned around, moving about his kitchen, opening cabinets. He absently noted that she was wearing flat-footed sandals with a strap that went up her delicate ankle and ended in a bow in the middle of her calf. Did all women wear shoes like that?

He rubbed the back of his neck. I should talk Marty into giving her a room at the inn. I don’t need trouble.

CHAPTER TWO

IT WAS A minor miracle she made it to town without crashing the car. She’d almost forgotten which side of the road to drive on. Meera pulled down the visor and studied her reflection, checking that her makeup was perfect. She adjusted the collar of her suit dress. She’d paired it with her favorite Jimmy Choo heels and a string of pearls. Her mother always said that dressing like a princess would make her feel like she could conquer the world. And Meera already had a plan to fix her situation. She would talk to Dr. Harper about how to handle the townspeople and convince Marty to give her a room. She couldn’t stay at a cattle ranch. And I don’t need to tolerate that rude cowboy.

She stepped out of the car and took in her surroundings. There was a barbershop with the quintessential blue-and-red-striped pole, a general grocer’s displaying a table of fruits and vegetables, the silver-walled Betsy’s Diner and a post office proudly displaying the American flag. The brick sidewalks were lined with pretty trees and flowering bushes. The air was slightly dewy and smelled of fresh-cut grass. A picture-perfect small town.

Meera lifted her face to let the sun shine on it. She liked warm weather; England was always too cold and India was too hot. If one dressed properly, this weather was just perfect. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to spend the month here. She would much prefer New York, but it wasn’t that far away and she still had the month to herself. She would pack a lifetime of freedom into the next four weeks. Then she could go home fully content and lead the life that had been planned for her.

She walked up the steps to Dr. Harper’s office but paused at the door, hand on the knob. I can do this. She turned the handle and stepped in. Chimes announced her presence.

“Ah, Rose, how nice to see you again.” Meera smiled warmly at the receptionist. She had only met Rose for a moment the day before, but she seemed to be a kind older lady. Rose was wearing a flowered dress, her white hair neatly pinned in a bun. Meera could picture her serving tea and biscuits like a British grandmother.

“We don’t need you here. Please go away.” The harsh tone was so out of line with the smiling, friendly face that it took Meera a moment to process the words. Her stomach dropped.

“Rose, I’m sorry, have I offended you? I don’t understand.”

Rose wagged her finger. “We don’t need your kind of doctoring here.”

“But Dr. Harper...”

“Dr. Harper is an old coot who—”

“That’s enough, Rose.”

Meera turned to see Dr. Harper emerge from his office. She blew out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. He was a small man with bright blue eyes, a shock of white hair and a booming voice. She had seen him only briefly yesterday when he’d shown her around the clinic, then he’d left her to see patients on her own. She hadn’t expected to start work her very first day in Bellhaven, but there had been an emergency with Mrs. Harper, who was suffering from lung cancer. Dr. Harper had asked Meera to tend to his patients. He’d been rushed and distracted, but affable enough, which made sense since he was a friend of her British supervisor.

“Dr. Harper...”

He held up his hand to silence Rose. “Now, I won’t have you giving Meera a hard time. She did what was right.”

Meera stepped forward. “Dr. Harper, I don’t understand what the fuss is about.”

Rose scoffed, glaring at her with open hostility. “Derek Jenkins!”

Meera blinked. “The boy who had a concussion?” She didn’t understand. It was a simple case, and she had treated it with textbook perfection.

Dr. Harper sighed. “Meera, let’s go to my office to talk.”

Meera followed him and sat down in the chair opposite his desk. He took a seat beside her in the second guest chair. He was obviously trying to make her comfortable.

Did I miss something? She went over the details of the case in her head and ran through the treatment plan. She specialized in cardiology but had graduated at the top of her medical program and completed her consultancy training with commendations. She knew how to take care of a concussion.

“Was there a problem with Derek Jenkins?” She scanned his desk to see if he had pulled up the teen’s chart.

Dr. Harper shook his head wearily. “Meera, you provided appropriate medical treatment.”

Meera relaxed a fraction.

“But you didn’t necessarily do the right thing.”

Her heart stopped. “I beg your pardon?”

“Derek is the quarterback for the regional high school football team, and the first game of the season is this week. It’s against our biggest rival in the next county.”

Meera reminded herself that American football was not soccer. She had initially thought Derek’s injury was related to heading a soccer ball, but then he told her he’d been tackled during practice and hit his head on the ground.

She stared at Dr. Harper.

He tapped a finger on the table. “This might be hard for you to understand, not being from around here, but football is like a religion in Hell’s Bells, and Fallton is our arch rival. It’s the most anticipated game of the season.”

Meera furrowed her brows. “I know he was disappointed he couldn’t play, but the treatment for concussion is pretty clear.”

“You and I understand that, but the town doesn’t. Derek wants to play.”

“It’s a school game! Compared to the lifetime risk of exacerbating the head injury—”

“To you it’s just a school game, but as I said, to the town, it’s...”

“Worth more than Derek’s life?”

Dr. Harper took a breath. “They don’t see it that way.”

Her mouth fell open. He couldn’t possibly be serious. If she allowed Derek to play, he could make his concussion worse, and there was even a risk of death.

“Dr. Harper, surely...”

“Meera, I’m not arguing with you on medical grounds—I am telling you why the town is angry with you.”

Meera changed tactics. “What would you have done if you were here instead of me?”

“I would have done the exact thing you did. The risk to his life is greater than the importance of the game.”

Meera spread her hands, her eyes wide.

“But I would have handled the communication differently.”

He leaned forward and patted Meera’s shoulder in a fatherly gesture. “You should have walked Derek home and then talked to his father. Marty was a football star—he’s put a lot of pressure on Derek, but he’s not heartless. If you’d gone over there to explain things, he’d understand why Derek has to sit out a game or two.”

“Walk Derek home?” That was unheard of. If Meera did that with every patient, she would have no time left. She knew she was used to a different pace than Dr. Harper’s practice. She’d seen only three patients yesterday, when back in her father’s London practice, she would have evaluated five or six patients an hour.

“Meera, Dr. Thurm called me before you arrived.”

At the mention of her supervisor, Meera stiffened. Dr. Thurm had added this month-long rotation as a condition of approving the final dissertation for her research degree. It was an unexpected blemish on her otherwise stellar academic performance. None of the other students in the class were required to do this rotation. He had personally set it up with Dr. Harper after he disapproved the one her father set up in New York.

“He told me you’re the brightest student he has ever worked with. Your medical knowledge is outstanding.”

Meera smiled and blushed. Dr. Thurm was very hard on her, as he was on all his students. Coming from him, the statement was high praise indeed.

“However...he said that while you know medical science, you need to learn the art and practice of medicine.”

“I’m sorry... I don’t understand what you mean.”

Dr. Harper opened a drawer and pulled out a stapled document. He handed it to Meera.

She glanced at it, the title familiar. “This is the publication from my research study—I won an award for this work.”

“But your brilliant research will never benefit patients.”

She stared at him. “I don’t understand.”

“The chemical compound you found is incredible, but it counteracts with sodium. If, as you suggest in the article, you develop it into a medication to treat heart disease, how would you deal with the sodium issue?”

Meera didn’t know where he was going with this. He had obviously read the article, and it was clearly explained in there.

“The patient would have to cut salt from their diet.”

“And you do think someone could effectively do that?”

“If their health is important to them, they should. As I suggest, they can easily reduce salt intake by not adding any table salt to the foods they eat.”

“I ask you again—who would eat saltless, tasteless food day in and day out?”

“It’s for their health.”

“If someone asked you to eat red meat every day for your health, would you do it?”

“I’m a vegetarian.”

“Exactly. You couldn’t make such a drastic lifestyle change, and yet you’re suggesting that it’s perfectly plausible that patients will.”

“If there was a health reason to eat meat, then I would consider it.” Dr. Thurm had brought up a similar point, so she had calculated the typical sodium intake of an adult and factored in things that couldn’t always be controlled, like salt in natural and processed foods in a typical diet. She had figured out the probability of patients “cheating” on the diet. She had accounted for patient behaviors.

She sighed. “So you’re saying Derek won’t stick to the treatment.”

“I’m saying his treatment is not just medical. He has to face an entire football team calling him a sissy boy for not playing. He has to face everyone in town who’s placed significant bets on the game. Without Derek, Hell’s Bells is certain to lose.”

“I can understand that, but if you agree he can’t play, what can I possibly do to make the situation better?”

“He needs you to be the bad guy. He needs you to go tell everyone in town that playing could kill him, that even though he’s walking around like nothing’s wrong, his injury is serious. You need to go talk to Marty, Derek’s coach and his teammates.”

Meera groaned. I miss London. Patients came into the clinic, received a diagnosis and left with a treatment plan. That explained why Marty had kicked her out of his inn, and why the town was so hard on her.

Dr. Harper stood. “I think you’ll find that medicine is far more satisfying when you can actually treat the whole person rather than just the ailment that bothers them.”

Meera left his office and went to the little corner desk in the waiting room that had been set up as her workstation. She put down her purse, fully aware of Rose glowering at her. She would not dignify the older woman’s petulance with a response.

“When is my first patient?” she asked calmly.

Rose snorted. “You’re not going to be getting any patients.”

Meera stepped toward her. “Listen, Rose, I’m only here for a month. Surely, we can find a way to work together.”

“Only a month! Ha! And how do I know you don’t have your sights on Dr. Harper’s practice? We all know the old coot’ll be retiring soon.”

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here, Rose,” Dr. Harper mumbled as he went into an examination room.

The front door chimed and a woman walked in. She was wearing short shorts and a red halter top. Her auburn hair was perfectly styled in waves. An image of Jessica Rabbit popped into Meera’s head.

“Gloria!” Rose walked around the reception desk to give the new arrival a hug.

Gloria eyed Meera. “Is she the one who...”

Rose nodded. “Can you believe it? Three days before the big game. I don’t know why Dr. Harper hasn’t told her to go home.”

Meera seethed.

Stop talking about me like I’m not here! “Do you think it has anything to do with Jake?” Gloria asked.

Jake? What does Jake have to do with this?

“I wouldn’t put it past her. Who wouldn’t want the town’s number-one bachelor.”

I should set them straight. Meera would never date an American because she didn’t plan to stay in America. Her parents, her research, her entire life was in England, and she couldn’t leave them. Besides, she was most definitely not interested in Jake.

“If she goes after him...”

“I have a fiancé in London,” Meera blurted. “My entire family is in London, and my father has a very successful medical center that I’ll be taking over. I do not plan to live in a town like this. After my rotation, I’m going home.” She looked pointedly at Gloria. “And I don’t fancy Jake—he’s not my type.” She didn’t need to know what her type was. With Raj in the picture since childhood, she’d always had everything she needed in a life partner.

Rose grunted. Gloria’s pout disappeared, and she raised an eyebrow, appraising Meera anew.

“Like I said, I’m only here for a month. What do you say we find a way to work together?” Meera held out her hand to Rose.

Rose wrinkled her nose. “The people who live in a ‘town like this’ don’t want to see a doctor like you.”

Dr. Harper came out of the examination room just as Rose huffed past her. Meera looked at him helplessly.

He shrugged. “You did say you enjoyed a challenging work environment.”

CHAPTER THREE

MEERA GRIPPED THE steering wheel. After the day she’d just had, this was the last thing she needed. I could step on the accelerator, just ram right through. She had purchased the extra insurance on the rental car. She dropped her head onto the steering wheel. Why can’t anything go according to plan?

“Don’t even think about it.”

She looked up as Jake stuck his head through her open window.

“Think about what?”

“About driving through that gate.”

“I wasn’t serious about it,” Meera said guiltily.

He opened her door. “Come on, I’ll show you how it opens. It’s a guard gate to keep the cattle from getting out, so it’s a little tricky.”

After he was done showing her how the gate worked, he hopped in the passenger seat. “Drop me at the house, will you?”

He smelled like he had yesterday—sweat, dirt and something...Jake. Great. Now her car smelled like Jake.

She drove up the gravel road.

“How was your day?”

Was there amusement in his voice? “It was fine.”

“Did you find another place to stay?”

“You know very well I didn’t.”

She couldn’t see his face, but she knew he was grinning.

“The guest cottage is still available.”

“And I’m thankful for that.”

“What about bad karma?”

She took a breath. If her parents were here with her, or Raj for that matter, they would tell her it was wrong to stay. They would remind her that she couldn’t in any way support the killing of animals. She looked ahead as the house approached.

If she didn’t stay, Jake would continue his business. Her presence was of no consequence to him, but to her it was the difference between finishing her research degree and having this month of freedom or starting all over again with a new rotation.

She chewed her lip. “Do you kill them on the premises?”

He snickered. “You’ll be happy to know we don’t. We take them to a slaughterhouse.”

She breathed out. At least that was something.

“Does that mean your karma is safe?”

She smiled. “I’m pretty sure this life is ruined, but you may have saved my next one.”

Meera pulled into the carport next to the house and turned to look at him. “Why cattle ranching?”

“Excuse me?”

“This is such a beautiful property. You could do so much with it—why do you raise cows?”

He bristled. “You ask too many questions.”

“I’m a naturally curious person, and surely it’s not a personal question. Have you always raised cattle here? I thought I saw horse stables earlier.”

He sighed. “Every generation has made its own mark on this land. My dad boarded and trained horses. Wasn’t very profitable, so I went into cattle ranching. I like cows and steers—they’re good animals, just need to be fed, and they do that mostly by themselves, grazing in the fields during warmer months. Horses need to be groomed and brushed and exercised and on and on every day. I do have a few horses left over from my father’s days. Mostly, I lend them out to the town for events or when we need to get a tractor out of a ditch.”

He stepped out of the car, then came around the other side and held the door open for her. The British were known for manners, but Raj had never held a car door open for her. She was surprised and pleased at the gentlemanly gesture.

“Do you want to come inside and have dinner? We made some delicious steak and cheese.”

There you go again. She shot him a look of daggers. He was grinning.

“Oh, just go ahead and have a good laugh at my expense.”

“What’d you expect?”

“How about some courtesy and kindness to a visitor? This is my first time in America, I’m all alone and I can barely remember which side of the road to drive on. Why must you be so unkind?”

“You do know we Americans threw the British out of the colonies.”

Aaarrghh! This was useless. Her shoulders sagged; it had been a long day and she was tired. Why was she trying so hard? This was a bad plan. Perhaps Raj was right and my expectations are too high. Tears stung her eyes, and she turned to walk to the cottage. She didn’t want to give Jake the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

She felt him grab her hand as she passed him. A jolt sizzled through her arm, and she froze, unable to explain the energy vibrating through her.

“Listen—come inside, have a cup of tea. I bought you a box of English breakfast when I went into town earlier.” His voice was soft, somewhat apologetic.

A cup of tea did sound good. She could come up with a new plan, a way to salvage her ruined trip.

As she walked into the kitchen, Meera noticed the warmth, the smell of food mixed with dish soap. Pots and pans were laid out to dry on the butcher-block counter. Noisy clanks came from a dishwasher. She ran her hand over the large wooden dining table, where everyone had been eating breakfast earlier. It was scratched and dented in several places.

“I need to sand and restain this old thing.” She looked up to see Jake’s eyes following her.

“I like it—the table has character. Mum’s kitchen is always polished, not a pot or pan in sight. Her appliances are those quiet ones that make this really eerie vibrating sound. We have a formal dining room where we eat, which feels a little sterile sometimes.” She touched the dents in the table, enjoying the sensation of the little dips in the wood. “This feels like a home.”

He smiled. “It is home, at least for the month you’re here.”

She felt as if someone had wrapped her in a warm blanket on a cold day. She liked the sound of a noisy, cozy home.

He walked into the pantry and came out holding a kettle and a box of tea bags. He handed them to her, and she noticed his lips curve shyly at her thanks. He could be a sweet man, when he wanted to be.

She went to the sink and poured water into the kettle. She would take a private moment to drink tea and think about what to do. To her surprise, Jake sat down at the table. She set the kettle to boil and pulled out two cups.

“I have a teapot somewhere, but I couldn’t find it.”

She gave him a small smile. “I can make do.” She steeped the tea in the mugs then poured some milk and a little sugar into both, the way she liked it. She handed him a cup, and he took a tentative sip.

“This isn’t half-bad. I think my mother took her tea this way.”

His mother? She wanted to ask but decided not to.

“Listen, I know I’ve been giving you a hard time, but don’t worry. The town will come around.”

She shook her head.

“That’s what I thought this morning, but I don’t think they will. Dr. Harper had me go talk to Marty Jenkins about why Derek couldn’t play. Marty just told me he hit his head all the time when he played and nothing happened to him. Then I went to see Derek’s coach, who said Derek had to toughen up and that if I didn’t clear him, he’d make sure I couldn’t show my face anywhere in Bellhaven.”

Jake’s eyes crinkled, turning an interesting shade of green.

“The icing on the cake was when I walked into a locker room full of half-naked teenagers and had to cover my eyes while they snickered at my explanation.” She took a breath. “I had no patients all day. All my appointments canceled, and everyone who walked in refused to even let me be in the room while Dr. Harper examined them. I sat around doing nothing.”

He laughed. “Oh, give it a couple of days and something else will rile everyone up.” He looked at her with warm, reassuring eyes, tempting her to believe everything would be okay.

“Hardly. When the town loses the football game, it’ll start all over again.” She ran her finger around the rim of the cup, feeling the cracked edge. “The grocer wouldn’t let me buy tea. The diner was all out of veggie burgers and any other nonmeat items, and I got a ticket even though I was parked legally.” She sighed wearily. “They hate me.”

He pushed his chair back and stood up. She turned to see him put a pan on the stove and take food out of the refrigerator. “I’m still a vegetarian, you know.”

He laughed. “I’m making you a grilled cheese sandwich, your highness.”

Tears welled in her eyes. She wasn’t used to someone taking care of her. Growing up, she’d had an army of servants at her beck and call, but she never asked them to serve her. She’d often gone without a snack when hungry, too ashamed to ask the cook to make her something. “Thank you. I appreciate it...you have no idea how much.”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, I don’t want you fainting on me.” She sipped her tea and watched him sizzle butter in the pan. She felt herself relax as the warm liquid went down her throat. “On top of it all, Rose seems to think I’m going to take over Dr. Harper’s practice.”

“Well, Dr. Harper has been talking about retiring. His wife is getting worse, but there’s no other doctor in town.”

“I told her I don’t have my sights on his practice—I plan to go back to London to run my father’s clinic.”

“Yeah, they think you’ll like it so much here, you’ll stay. I mean, who would leave the good old US of A to go back to colonial times.”

She pursed her lips to bite back a retort. He was trying hard to keep up the pretense of being a surly rancher; she wouldn’t engage in his ribbing.

“Besides, if you haven’t noticed, I’m the town’s most eligible bachelor and they figure you’ll fall in love with me and never leave.”

She couldn’t help but scoff. He thought a lot of himself. “Well, she has nothing to worry about. I’m getting married a few weeks after I return.” She winced. Her marriage wasn’t a secret, but for some reason she didn’t want to discuss it with Jake.

Crash! Startled, she turned and saw the pan on the floor. Jake recovered quickly.

“Sorry...handle slipped from my fingers. Don’t worry, I saved your sandwich.”

He set a plate down. She picked up the sandwich and took a bite. This is the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. She let the buttery bread and soft cheese melt in her mouth.

“Mmm. Thank you!” She saw him staring at her, his green eyes darkening to brown. She felt herself blush and looked down at her plate.

Jake sat down and splayed his fingers over his half-empty mug.

“I heard something about a fiancé, but this town has a way of embellishing.” He gazed pointedly at her hand. “You don’t wear a ring.”

She chewed slowly. “In Indian culture, the engagement is part of the wedding festivities. My parents wanted it to be the first party of the two-week celebrations.”

“Two weeks?”

“I’m their only child—they’ve always spoiled me.” She kept her eyes on her plate. Her mother had been planning this event for over a year. She was quite upset at the timing of Meera’s trip, but Meera hadn’t wanted to put it off. She needed to do this before the wedding.

“So tell me about your fiancé.” His tone was casual, but there was something new in his voice. She searched his face, but he was studying the table.

“Raj is a family friend. We’ve known each other since we were children. He’s also a physician, and his family is also from India originally, but we both grew up in the UK. We have a lot in common.”

“Is he also a vegetarian?”

She laughed. “Yes, he is. We are very well suited to each other.”

A shadow flittered across his face. “Well suited. That’s an interesting way to put it. Do you love him?”

She frowned. What a strange question. But suddenly her mouth was dry. She took a sip of her tea and rubbed her temples.

“As I said, I’ve known him for many years and we’re quite fond of each other. We’re research partners—we run a research project together, and after I finish my research doctorate, we’ll open our own lab.”

He raised his brows.

Suddenly, she didn’t want to talk about Raj anymore. “Are you married?”

Was it her imagination, or did he flinch? He shook his head. “I was engaged once.”

“What happened?”

“She left me.” His voice was devoid of emotion, but she sensed bitterness and pain behind the words.

“Is the fertility tea hers?”

He laughed mirthlessly. “Yeah, that one took me by surprise, too.” He was trying too hard to keep his voice carefree. The raw sorrow in his eyes gave him away. She wanted to reach out and touch him.

“How long ago?” she asked softly.

“Almost a year.”

Meera placed her hand over his. “I’m so sorry.” His hand felt warm and rough and somehow familiar. Meera pulled away.

He gave her a wistful smile. “It’s probably for the best. I’ve let it go.”

She finished her sandwich and stood up to wash the plate. She had a thousand questions for him, but it didn’t feel right to pry. He seemed vulnerable...and heartbroken.

“Why’re you marrying a man you don’t love?”

Meera froze, the water pouring over her hands as she held the plate. Her head throbbed painfully. Was he asking because his fiancée had left him? “What makes you think I don’t love him?” Did her voice sound shaky?

“You haven’t once said that you do.”

She turned off the water and sat down wearily. “There are all kinds of love, Jake. My parents didn’t even know each other when my grandparents arranged their marriage. They discovered one another and fell in love after their wedding, and they’ve been together for forty years. Forty years!”

He didn’t look convinced.

“Love is something you have to nurture...it grows over time.”

“So what is this, an arranged marriage?” he asked contemptuously.

“You could call it that or a planned marriage. A carefully selected union between two people who know and admire each other. It’s a sound basis for selecting a life partner.”

He gaped at her, shaking his head in disbelief. “It’s not a business merger, Meera, it’s a life together. This is the twenty-first century. Your parents can’t marry you off against your will.”

She glared at him. “How American of you to think this is happening without my consent! Arranged marriages have been a part of my heritage for a very long time. The divorce rate in India is one percent. One percent! Compared to over fifty percent here. I’m not marrying Raj because my parents are making me—I’m marrying him because I want to. He’s a good match for me, we’ve known each other for years...it only makes sense we would be good life partners.” Was it just her, or was it getting stuffy in here? Her head was about to explode.

“What about love?”

What was with Jake and this love thing? “There are all kinds of love. At some level, Raj and I have loved each other for twenty years.”

“That sounds like an academic argument to me.”

“Well, I am a scientist.”

“And yet you believe in karma.”

She started to argue, then stopped. He has me there. “There are many things in this universe that science hasn’t explained.”

“Are your parents happily married?”

“Pardon me?”

“You said your parents have been married for forty years. Has it been a happy marriage?”

She had never thought about it before, but of course her parents were happy. Weren’t they? She knew their inability to have children had created an underlying sadness for both of them, but beyond that? She suddenly realized she didn’t know much about how her parents’ marriage worked.

She stood up. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve had a very difficult day and I’m exhausted. I need to go lie down and figure out whether I should return to London.” She pushed her chair back, picked up her cup and took it to the sink. She was grateful for the food and tea; she felt fortified.

When she was done washing the dishes, she muttered a curt good-night as she stepped past him.

“Throw them a barbecue.”

She turned in the doorway. “What?”

“The town. They can’t resist a good barbecue—it’s a good way to win them over. You can have it here, and I’ll give you a grill and meat. Just...wear jeans and a T-shirt—you know, regular clothes.”

She frowned at him. “What’s wrong with my clothes? This dress is Gucci.”

His eyes traveled up and down her body. Heat seared through her. “Most people here get their clothes at discount stores. Show them you aren’t the Queen of England. Wear something regular folks wear, like that dress you had on this morning.”

She began to argue with him, then stopped. He was showing her a way out. A barbecue. I can use it as an opportunity to show them...and Jake...that I’m not so strange. All was not lost. She could picture it already.

She clapped her hands and stepped toward him. “I’ll have it the day after tomorrow. It’s a Sunday, so the office will be closed. I’ll order everything I need online, overnight delivery. Yes, I’m sure I can make it work. I’ll go make a list right now. Thank you so much, Jake.”

Impulsively, she leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. Her lips tingled as they touched his prickly stubble, and she took in his scent. She stepped back, suddenly a little light-headed. Her headache was gone, replaced with comforting, elating warmth.

His eyes darkened. He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat. “Yeah, well, I’ll tell Kelly to help you with all this. Let me know if you need anything.”

Her cheeks burned as she backed out of the room. She mumbled another thank-you and fled to the cottage.

CHAPTER FOUR

JAKE SURVEYED THE SCENE. Not bad. Meera had gone to quite some expense, renting a tent, tables, chairs, even a dance floor. The tables were draped with red-and-white-checkered cloths and little vases of fresh-cut flowers. She’d turned his entire field into a photo-worthy barbecue.

He’d seen the light on in the cottage well into the night for the past two days, and she was up before sunrise today. She set up the tent right in front of the hay barn, the red structure providing a picturesque backdrop. She even managed a great day: partly cloudy sky, pleasant breeze and dry ground.

She had already loaded coal in the chimney starters of the grill he’d lent her, and he made a mental note to check that she’d opened the vent. Meera was standing near the grill with a clipboard in hand. He could see her checking things off. She was dressed in jeans and—what do you know—a T-shirt. She looked amazing, but then she always did—in whatever she had on, even the severe dresses she wore to work. Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail. He liked it. It showed off her big, expressive brown eyes.

She’s something, isn’t she? He didn’t know many people who would take on the town of Hell’s Bells. Jolene certainly hadn’t; she’d run away as soon as they turned on her, and she was born here. He admired Meera’s gumption. Although she looked like a fragile little thing, he sensed an inner strength. She was a fighter.

He walked toward her.

“Need some help?”

She looked up and smiled. Oh, wow. His legs suddenly felt unsteady, and he slowed down. It was the first genuine smile he had seen since she arrived, and it was spectacular. He stopped when he reached her and stared at the ground, not wanting to meet her eyes. She was wearing flip-flops with sequins on the straps, calling attention to her bright red toes.

“I think I have the grill going.”

He gave it a perfunctory look and nodded, unable to take his eyes off her. “You do—the coal looks nice and hot.” She gave him another stunning smile, and he found himself grinning like a teenage boy. She had put it all together by herself. Given her obviously wealthy upbringing, he’d expected her to ask him or his staff for help on any number of little things, from moving tables and chairs to starting the grill, but she hadn’t.

“People should be here any minute. I think I’ll start the first round of hot dogs and burgers. I just need to check the package...”

“Package?”

“The instructions on how to cook them without burning.”

Instructions? “What?”

She pointed to the cooler. He frowned. It wasn’t one of his coolers; he’d assumed it held the beer. “Where did you get that meat?”

She smiled broadly. “It’s meatless hot dogs and burgers.”

Meatless meat? He gripped the cooler lid and lifted out a package. Precooked? This was going to be bad. Really bad.

“Tofu?”

She nodded excitedly. “They taste just like meat, but they’re made of soy. Sustainable soy, I might add.”

Why am I getting involved in this? She’s her own worst enemy. He looked at her excited face. She had her convictions, and he respected her for that, but she was headed for disaster. “Listen, Meera, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but it won’t work. Meat is meat, and nothing else tastes like it. You told the town you’re throwing a barbecue; they’ll be expecting meat, you can’t just—”

“But that’s the point—I’ll show them they can follow a healthy lifestyle and keep their traditions. They don’t have to give up barbecues, just eat less red meat.”

“This is a ranchin’ town, Meera. You’re not going to win them over in one night. I pulled out a bunch of meat from the freezer yesterday—Kelly was supposed to give it to you. It’s all in the fridge. I’ll go get it. You can offer up your tofu dogs and burgers as another option.”

“No!” She gave him a sharp look. “That defeats the purpose. Part of my rotation here is to improve public health. I want to introduce the town to the notion that there are healthy, tasty alternatives to red meat. I have it all planned.”

He shook his head. Add stubborn to the reasons I shouldn’t get involved. “The whole point of this barbecue is to make up for not understanding what’s important to the town. Meat is important.”

“I’m trying to show them how to enjoy their traditions in a better way.”

He threw up his hands.

He turned. “I’m not gonna waste my time arguing with you.”

She looked defiantly at him. “It’ll be fine, just wait and see.”

* * *

“WHAT THE HELL is this?” Rose spit out the first bite of hot dog. Others followed suit, seeming equally appalled.

“It’s a tofu dog,” Meera explained.

“Toe what now?”

Meera looked at the disgusted faces. About fifty people were here—a good turnout, according to Jake. What’s wrong? She’d tasted the first hot dog; it was delicious. Jake’s advice on the mix of wood chips for the grill had given it quite a flavor. So why were they spitting it out?

She watched in dismay as people used her thoughtfully placed trash cans to toss perfectly grilled tofu dogs and burgers.

“Where’s the meat? I didn’t sign up for this veggie crap.”

“Rose, remember how Dr. Harper has been talking about getting the town to eat healthier? Well, this is—”

Rose grabbed her arm and said in a low voice, “You don’t mess with a barbecue. A barbecue is about meat—juicy, fat, red meat. It’s not the time to introduce tofu. Dr. Harper meant to do some health seminars, hand out flyers, that kind of thing. You silly girl.”

“I’m leaving! Should’ve known she was gonna screw this up,” she overheard someone say.

“Why don’t you go back to wherever they actually like this stuff,” another local added.

“That’s enough!” Jake’s booming voice made Meera jump. “Meera’s gone to a lot of trouble, so why don’t we give her a chance?” There he was, tall and lean, cowboy hat and jeans and a T-shirt that showed off every flex of his sinewy muscles. He was towing a cooler behind him. “I’ve got some fresh meat here, and we’ll grill it right up. And she’s got some cold beer, so settle down.”

There were cheers from the crowd. Meera’s face burned. How dare he? “What do you think you’re doing?” she whispered angrily when he got near.

“I’m saving you from yourself—you’ll thank me later.”

“Oh, you are such a pompous—” She took a deep breath and turned to the crowd. She was wasting her energy on Jake. “Listen, everybody, can I just take a second to tell you about some of the health benefits of eating soy rather than red meat? Studies have shown that eating soy can lower your risk of heart disease by as much as...” She stopped. Her guests were crowding around Jake, choosing meat, chatting away. Jake started poking coal in the grill, taking off the tofu burgers and dogs and throwing them in the trash bin.

She crossed her arms. She noticed something on the ground, near the grill. The clipboard. Someone stepped on it, and she heard it snap.

“Well, if you’ll pardon me, I need to take care of something back at the cottage.” No one listened. No one cared. She turned on her heels and ran.

She flung herself on the bed.

The nerve of him! She wanted the town to get to know her as a person, not “the Queen of England,” as they’d all taken to calling her—a not-so-endearing name that Jake had no doubt perpetuated. Dr. Thurm and Dr. Harper had asked her to work on preventative medicine in Bellhaven as part of the community education component of her rotation. Teaching the townsfolk how to eat better was the perfect way to achieve that, and she’d been sure the party would convince them she wasn’t just some clueless foreigner. She’d planned every detail of the barbecue so they could see how simple lifestyle changes could make a difference in their health. It was the basis for her research, a way to prove to Dr. Thurm that the development of her blood pressure compound could work. People would be willing to make a change for their health. Jake had ruined it all.

She let her tears fall. She could have turned it around, explained the benefits of soy...if Jake hadn’t shown up with meat. How could she compete with that? Serving meat at her party! Her parents would be furious if they ever found out.

What am I doing here? she wondered. This will never work. Maybe I should have waited until after the wedding, taken some time to talk Dr. Thurm into letting me do this in New York. Why am I trying to get this awful town to like me? I’m so in over my head.

But she couldn’t go back to London, not after she’d fought so hard with her mum to come here now. This was her final shot at independence, to be free of the social obligations that came with being a socialite’s only daughter, before taking on the duties of marriage. She’d seen the opportunity and jumped on it.

Meera would never have this kind of freedom again. Raj hated traveling.

Her phone rang, and she looked at the caller ID. As usual, his timing is great. Maybe talking to him will help.

“Hello, Raj.” She tried to inject some enthusiasm into her voice; she didn’t want to worry him.

“Hello, love, glad I caught you. I tried ringing earlier...” She felt a twinge of guilt. She’d been so busy planning the barbecue, she’d forgotten to return his call.

“Yes, I’ve been quite busy settling in. How are you getting along?”

He began talking about patients and giving her an update on the practice. Everything was falling into place. She and Raj would run her father’s practice after they were married and eventually merge with the medical conglomerate Raj’s parents owned. Her father was looking forward to retiring after Meera and Raj took over the medical center. Their research project was progressing well, and once they secured permissions and funding for their own laboratory, the sky was the limit.

She listened to his familiar voice, letting it soothe her as she lay back on her bed. The tension eased out of her muscles. This was why she was marrying Raj: he always calmed her. Given what had happened tonight, should she go back early? She could come back later and complete the rotation or maybe even transfer somewhere else. But then she wouldn’t be able to apply for the funding she needed to start the lab. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Raj was talking about a new computer system her father wanted to invest in. Her thoughts went back to the barbecue. Jake had been right about it bringing the town together, and he’d been nice enough to let her host the party at his ranch. And even though she hadn’t wanted him to, he’d been generous to offer up all that meat. She would pay him for it, of course. Jake! Why did he infuriate her so much? And yet, she couldn’t hold on to her anger. No matter how wrong he was, Jake was well-intentioned. She thought back to a few nights ago when he’d made her a grilled cheese. Despite disagreeing with her about being a vegetarian, he respected her choice.

So why had he brought out the meat today? She thought about the way the town had reacted to her tofu dogs. Obviously, Jake knew the folks of Bellhaven better than she did. Maybe she had pushed too hard? She should go back; it was rude to leave her own party and perhaps a little grumpy. After all, the band would be there soon... Surely, there was a way to salvage the evening? The original purpose of the barbecue was to convince the townspeople she meant well; maybe she could still make that happen.

She interrupted Raj. “Listen, I’m rather in the middle of something right now—do you mind if I ring you later?”

He paused. “Well, I suppose that would be all right, although now is the best time for me.”

“Sorry, but I really need to go.”

“Meera...”

She stabbed the end button and immediately regretted it. Raj hadn’t done anything wrong. Oh, well, she’d explain it to him later.

She walked back to the barbecue and saw the band setting up. People were sitting down and eating, and loud conversations drifted to her ears. There was general merriment in the air. It was exactly as she planned it, except it wasn’t. Jake had done this.

She wrinkled her nose as she approached the grill. Jake was placing fat, bloody pieces of meat above the coals. Bile rose in her throat, and she clutched her stomach, resisting the urge to throw up.

He held out a plate to her and she stared at him in horror.

“Relax. I saved you a tofu burger before I put the meat on.”

She smiled gratefully and took the plate. There was the sweetness again, the way he thought about her needs. Not many men would be that considerate.

“Who are they?” Jake pointed at the band.

“Don’t worry, I thought the meatless meal would be enough of an experiment. The band is from Richmond—they do country music. The online reviews said they’re quite good.”

He smiled mischievously. “Well, then, you’ll have to save a dance for me.”

A shiver ran down her spine. She looked down shyly. “I don’t dance very well.”

He leaned forward and whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.” His breath warmed her ear.

“Jake, these burgers are yum-mum-mee.” While Meera was staring at her feet, Gloria had sidled up to Jake and put her hand on his arm.

Meera smiled brightly at her. Best fake smile, Meera—time to mend fences. Gloria was wearing extremely small shorts again, showing off miles of legs that ended in wedged heels. Ah, note to self: pointed heels get stuck in the mud, wedges are the way to go. She would have to go shoe shopping soon; retail therapy might be a good antidote to the stress of Bellhaven. Gloria had paired her shorts with a red-and-white-checkered shirt tied in a knot above her belly button, and a pink cowboy hat completed the look. She and Jake would make a picture-perfect, all-American couple.

“Mmm... This is so good, Jake—what did you put it in?” Gloria purred. She leaned in, and Jake took a step closer to the grill, away from her.

“It’s just beef, Gloria, nothing special.”

Oh, I can’t watch this. Meera excused herself, much to Gloria’s delight and Jake’s apparent dismay. She headed over to see the band.

“Dr. M., can I talk to you for a minute?”

Meera turned to find a young woman standing behind her. The girl was red in the face and heavyset. Meera frowned. The raised rash on her face could indicate a medical problem. “Of course. Come with me.”

Meera led her to the cottage, and she looked around nervously as she hurried along. “Please don’t tell anyone I’m talkin’ to you.”

Meera ushered her into the living room. “Don’t worry. If I’m here as your doctor, I won’t repeat anything you say unless you ask me to.”

“Okay. My name’s Lily...” She still seemed anxious. “I have this problem, and I can’t tell anyone else in town...”

Meera nodded and scanned the young woman’s body, looking carefully at her face. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

Lily’s eyes widened. “You can’t tell anyone!” Her voice was panicked.

Meera put her arm around Lily soothingly. “Like I said, this is confidential. Nothing you tell me will leave this room.”

Lily relaxed visibly. “You promise? You can’t tell a single soul in this town.”

Meera nodded.

Lily collapsed on the couch. “How did you know?”

“The rash on your face looks like pruritic urticarial papules and plaques of pregnancy. And your weight.”

“Everyone thinks I just got fat, but the rash is new and I... Is the baby okay?”

Meera went to her bedroom and brought out the medical bag her father had given her. She opened it and began taking Lily’s blood pressure. She asked Lily some questions and did a brief exam, pressing on her belly. “The rash can happen with pregnancy, and I think you’re fine, but I need to do an ultrasound to be sure. If you’re right about your last period, you’re about thirty-two weeks along.”

Lily shook her head. “I can’t come to the office for an ultrasound. Rose would blab about it to the whole town.” She paused and touched her cheek. “I haven’t told the baby’s father—that’s why I haven’t seen Dr. Harper. I can’t have this town knowing...” She stopped and looked down. “It’s a little complicated.”

Meera squeezed her hand. “If you haven’t seen a doctor since you got pregnant, it’s really important we do an ultrasound and run blood tests to make sure everything is all right. Come to the clinic tomorrow after twelve. Rose goes to lunch and Dr. Harper goes home to check on his wife around then. Wait in the car until you see them leave, then ring the bell and I’ll come get you. They’ll never know.”

Lily nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Dr. M. I had no idea what to do or who to go to. Jake said you’re a good person...” She sat up straighter. “I know the town doesn’t want you here, but please don’t let them run you off.” She put her arms around Meera and held her tight, taking her by surprise. Meera had never been hugged by a patient before. And I haven’t even done anything for her.

She let Lily leave the cottage and followed several minutes later, watching as the young woman rejoined the crowd.

She hasn’t seen a doctor since she got pregnant! Maybe being an outcast isn’t such a bad thing. Then people who need privacy, like Lily, can come to me, and I can focus on those who really need my help. She felt a spring in her step as she went back to the barbecue.

She had to remember to thank Jake for sending Lily. The fact that she’d gone to him when she hadn’t told anyone else in town said a lot about the type of person Jake was.

The band was in full swing and from the look of it, everyone seemed to be having a good time. There were several people on the dance floor, yelling with delight and teasing each other. Perhaps all was not lost. She took in the gleeful faces and grudgingly wondered whether Jake was right. Maybe it was too much to expect the town to rethink their way of life with one barbecue. Where was Jake, anyway?

“Hey.”

She placed a hand on her chest. “Could you not sneak up on me like that?”

“What was that about?” He nodded toward Lily.

Meera shrugged. “Nothing. She just had to use the bathroom and wanted to tell me how much she hates tofu burgers.”

Jake smirked. “You’re such a bad liar, it’s written all over your face.” Meera started to protest, but he waved her off. “It doesn’t matter. It’s time to do the two-step.”

“I beg your pardon?”

His eyes gleamed. Grinning ear to ear, he put his arm around her waist and pulled her onto the dance floor. She squealed. He twirled her and began showing her the steps to the dance. She felt breathless as she followed his steps, feeling a little anxious at her clumsiness.

“I can’t do this, Jake.”

He shook his head. “Let go, Meera. It’s about the music and having fun. You don’t have to do it right—just try it, be free.”

She grinned. You don’t have to do it right? Then how was she supposed to have fun? She took a breath and started moving again, watching everyone else’s feet so she could copy their steps perfectly. Several people on the dance floor were making eye contact with her, nodding encouragingly. Jake introduced her to old Mr. Leeland, who grabbed her hand and twirled her. She couldn’t help dissolving into giggles as the elderly man tried to dip her. She caught Jake’s eye, and he winked at her as she stepped on Mr. Leeland’s foot. He laughed good-naturedly and led her across the floor. She couldn’t keep up with the steps; everyone’s feet were a jumble.

Someone twirled her and suddenly she was being passed from partner to partner, each one kind about her mistakes. She caught Rose staring at her, a smile on her face. Maybe Jake was right. She stopped worrying about the steps and started enjoying the music.

She felt completely carefree as Jake caught her hand and lifted her up when she began stepping on his toes.

She didn’t know how long she spent dancing, enjoying herself with each breathless round on the floor. There were cheers and hoots from the crowd as she finally made a circuit without stepping on any toes. I can’t remember the last time I felt this free. Jake had long since passed her off to another dance partner, but she searched for him in the throng.

Billy John had just grabbed her hand when a loud scream jolted her. Several others joined in, and chaos broke out as people began running in all directions. The band stopped playing. “Everyone clear out.” It was Jake’s voice, but she couldn’t find him in the sea of arms and legs. What’s happening? She looked around frantically and gasped. Flames! The grill was on fire along with the edge of a tablecloth.

“Move aside.”

Meera saw Jake running toward the fire with an extinguisher. The tablecloth was now fully ablaze and lighting the roof of the tent. She took out her cell phone, but put it away when she heard the faraway sound of sirens. She ran out of the tent and stopped a safe distance away, noticing Jake had done the same. A few of the ranch workers were approaching with extinguishers, but Jake waved them back. The fire had spread too much. The slight breeze had carried the flames across the field, right up to the barn. The fire department would have to handle it.

The fire engines arrived in a blaze of lights, their sirens screaming. Several firefighters ran toward the fire, aiming their hoses.

Jake stood several yards away from her. As if he knew she was looking at him, he turned and caught her eye. Oh, boy! Even from a distance, she could feel his fury. He stalked over.

“Tell me you opened the vent on the back of the grill when you set it up.”

Her mouth went dry. She put a hand to her forehead, trying desperately to remember. She could see his instructions in her mind’s eye; she had written them down precisely on the clipboard. The paper said to open the vent after the coal heated up, but all she could remember was that she had been reading that very instruction when he walked up to her. And she had lost her train of thought. She didn’t remember actually opening the vent.

“I...I’m not sure I did. Oh, God, Jake, I’m so sorry.”

His eyes reflected the flames that were demolishing the barn behind her. “Do you have any idea how dangerous a fire is on a ranch? What it can do to the animals? Not to mention the fact that I may have lost a barn full of hay. Do you know how much bales cost these days?” He began pacing as the firefighters doused the fire. It seemed to be coming under control, but Meera could see a mess of soggy black ash on the ground and a black shell where the pretty red barn had stood. She thought that she’d ruined the barbecue earlier with the veggie dogs, but this? This was a complete disaster.

When Jake came close to her again, she touched his arm. “I’ll pay for the damage.”

He whirled to face her. “Are you kidding me? You can’t wave your magic credit card and make this all okay, princess.”

She inhaled sharply, trying to breathe against the tightness in her chest.

“Tomorrow morning, I’d like you to leave. I’ll talk to Marty about giving you a room—although after tonight, I’m not sure you’ll ever recover with this town.”

CHAPTER FIVE

JAKE’S EYES KEPT wandering to the door. It’s still early—she may not be up yet. He knew she hadn’t left. Her rental was still in the carport.

“Earth to Jake! What do you want us working on today?”

Jake snapped to attention. “Go about your regular chores,” he said dismissively. “I’ll deal with the cleanup.” He watched his staff file out silently; they had worked with him long enough to know he was in a mood.

“Kell, have you gotten your physical yet?”

Kelly shook her head and mumbled, “I’ll get to it.” She left quickly, and he fought the urge to throw something at her. He worried about her. She tried to hide it, but he knew there was something wrong. He couldn’t let Meera go yet, not until she finished the physicals. And there is absolutely no other reason I want her to stay.

He hung around the kitchen, rearranging dishes in the dishwasher. After he was done, he went into the pantry. I know Jolene had a teapot. A teapot she used to drink fertility tea while she was planning on leaving me. He shook his head. Every woman in my life is determined to torture me. He couldn’t figure Meera out. Why was she so desperate to have the town like her? It was as if some internal motor was driving her to make sure she was acceptable. She’d worked herself to the bone getting that barbecue organized. She hadn’t snapped her fingers and hired an army to put it together. Though if she had, he wouldn’t be calculating damages right now.

He gave up looking for the teapot and glanced at his watch. He couldn’t waste away the day. He walked toward his ruined field and barn; he would hear her car leaving. His stomach turned as he saw the damage from afar. He’d had more than a hundred hay bales in the barn, and most of them were burned, charred or waterlogged and full of ash. With the drought this year, he didn’t have enough grazing fields to get through the winter. He’d managed to get a good deal on hay to keep the animals fed.

He stopped and stared, painful knots twisting his stomach. He couldn’t afford to replace that much hay, especially not at current prices. He wouldn’t make a profit this year. Again. He did some quick calculations. With the loss of hay, and this field, he would have to sell at least fifty steers or send them to slaughter right now. He wouldn’t get the same price he would get in a few months, but if he had to buy more hay and grain to feed them, he’d have to take out a loan and with interest—he did some quick math—he’d be screwed, anyway. Either way, the ranch was going to take a big hit.

He blew out a breath. Meera’s more trouble than she’s worth. Although truth be told, he should have checked the grill. That’s what he’d been walking over to do when her smile distracted him. He was furious at himself. He didn’t remember Jolene turning him upside down like that. But then, he’d never met a woman like Meera before. The way she’d come back from the humiliation of her tofu dogs...it took courage to face up to Hell’s Bells like that. He had seen her retreat to the guest cottage. Most women would have stayed there licking their wounds, but not Meera. She’d marched right back as though she owned the evening.

As he approached the field, he squinted. What the... He ran the last few yards. Meera was standing at the edge of the field, tossing debris into a trash bag as big as she was tall. She was wearing a T-shirt and shorts, and her legs were covered in soot and dirt. He remembered the disdain in her eyes the first day they met when he patted his dirty hands on his jeans. What is she doing getting her hands dirty? He knew the answer even before he asked.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’ve been taught to take responsibility for my actions, so I’m not leaving you with this mess.”

Her determination made his heart speed up. Why didn’t she just leave or hire staff to clean up after her? She was a princess; why break a sweat?

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Actually, Jake, I do. It’s my fault, and I need to fix it.”

He took in the firm set of her lips and locked on to her earnest, brown, almond-shaped eyes. She had guts coming out here to face him after the way he’d stormed at her last night.

Inexplicably, he wanted to take her in his arms and tell her it would all be okay, that he would take care of it. Manual labor was for hardy ranchers like him. She might have the heart for it, but she was too delicate to toil away in the heat.

He pointed to the big white tent that had fallen once the fire went out, then gestured to the area she was working on. “This is the easy part, you know. Wait till you see what’s under the tent—it’s ash and mud, and the barn has entire sections that’ll need to be rebuilt. Any idea how many gallons of water they dumped?”

She looked down. “I can’t undo what happened yesterday, but I’m going to make it right. I’ll also pay for whatever damage I caused.” He stepped closer, distracted by the ruined barn behind her. He pictured his last balance sheets. The numbers weren’t looking good.

“Meera, this is not your problem. Let me handle it.”

“I have to take responsibility.”

“Look, I know your heart’s in the right place, but you have no idea what you’re doing here. This field, my barn, they’re ruined. My father built that barn with his own two hands and no magic credit card can replace that.”

She made a strangled sound, her lips trembling. “I should at least pay your building costs. And what about this field?”

“The fields are used to feed the animals—they graze on grass. Without grass to feed them, I have to either sell or slaughter about fifty head in the next week.”

Her face crumpled. She took a shaky breath and sat down on the dirty tent, burying her face in her hands. “You’re going to kill fifty animals because of me!” Something stabbed at his chest. She looked so heartbroken. What was he supposed to do? She didn’t understand that this was how the cattle business worked. He let out a breath. I’m so going to regret this.

He sat down next to her. “It’s not your fault entirely. I was going to check the vent on the grill and got distracted.”

She gazed up at him with glistening eyes. “With what?”

“Huh?”

“What did you get distracted with?”

His mind brought up an image of her standing in nearly the same spot, smiling as if the world belonged to her. Inexplicably, he felt a kinship with Meera. They had nothing in common, at least not superficially, but beneath her uppity exterior, he sensed her kind soul. It made him want to know what else lay beneath the princess shell.

She was looking expectantly at him, waiting for an answer. “I got distracted with you.” He reached out and took her hand, needing to feel contact with her.

Her eyes widened, then she squeezed back. He exhaled. It wasn’t just him; she was feeling it, too.

“The point is, this isn’t all on you. And I didn’t mean what I said yesterday—I was angry at myself and taking it out on you. You’re welcome to stay here. God knows you have your hands full with the town. You don’t need to worry about this.”

She sniffed. “I appreciate your generosity, really, but this happened because of me. I’ll take you up on the offer to keep staying here, though. I still need to finish the physicals on your staff.” She extracted her hand from his, then stood up and dusted her palms on her jeans. “If you’ll be patient with me, I want to work on cleaning this up when I’m not twiddling my thumbs at Dr. Harper’s practice.”

Obviously, he wasn’t going to be able to talk her out of it, but maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. It was one more hand to help clean the mess up, and he couldn’t afford to increase the hours of the other staff. But did he really want her around, distracting him?

“Suit yourself.” He tried to keep his voice nonchalant. “How much time do you have?”

She checked her watch. “I have another hour, maybe more before I have to get ready.”

“I’ll be back.”

He went to the shed and returned with a forklift.

“You ever drive one of these things?”

Meera’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “No! I have no idea how to operate that. I’ll crash it.”

He smiled and held out his hand. “Don’t worry, I’m not trusting you with heavy machinery. I’ll be driving.”

She took his hand, and his heart thumped wildly as she squeezed into the cab next to him.

It was a tight fit and she was half sitting in his lap. He tried not to notice the way her leg touched his or how small she felt snuggled in beside him. He put her hand on the clutch and showed her how to put it in gear, then he stepped on the accelerator. She yelped as they moved forward, and he couldn’t take his eyes off the wild expression on her face.

Focus, Jake, focus. He showed her how to operate the lift and pick up the large tent in sections, moving it to the side.

Once they’d dealt with the tent, they parked the forklift and surveyed the damage underneath. There was ash mixed in with pieces of tables, chairs and the wooden dance floor. Flecks of the red-and-white-checkered tablecloth were strewn everywhere.

“The rental company is gonna charge you a pretty penny.”

Meera shrugged.

“Did you call them and get an estimate?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s fine, whatever it is.”

Jake laughed mirthlessly. And there was another Meera contradiction. She was rich, so why insist on doing the dirty work herself? “Must be nice not to have to worry about money.”

“I guess I’m lucky. My father has a very successful medical practice. He’s never let me worry about money—it’s one of the many things I owe my parents.”

That’s a strange sentiment. “Owe your parents? Why would you owe your parents?”

Meera smiled wistfully. “They’re not my biological parents. They adopted me from an orphanage in India when I was ten.” She looked out at the field, suddenly seeming a million miles away.

He stopped the forklift. He didn’t know a lot about India, but no child belonged in an orphanage. He remembered what it had been like when his mother left, but he’d had his father and the townspeople to take care of him.

“Do you remember your biological parents?”

“I was three years old, or so the matron at the orphanage told me, when they left me at the doorstep. I don’t remember them, the parents that gave birth to me.” She paused, and when she spoke again, her voice was soft and so raw that pain seared through him. “I was living in squalor and poverty, conditions you can’t even imagine until Mum and Pitaji—my father—adopted me.” He could hear the voice of the little girl inside her, the one who was afraid and alone. He put his hand on hers, wishing he could take her pain away.

“They gave me a beautiful, perfect life. In the orphanage, all I could think about was getting my hands on a few rupees to bribe the cook to give me food. They did the bare minimum to keep us alive. Since my parents adopted me, they’ve given me everything any person could ever want.”

That explained so much about her, especially the contradictions. Meera wincing at his dirty hands but then washing dishes in his kitchen and slinging mud to clean his field. He squeezed her hand, wanting her to know she wasn’t alone.

“I can’t begin to tell you how much I owe my parents.”

Now he understood why she insisted on paying him back for everything. She had grown up feeling indebted.

“Have you spent your entire life trying to pay them back?”

Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t think I could pay them back in this life, or my next several lives. I still remember the orphanage. The filth.” He noticed goose bumps on her arms. “There was always dirt everywhere—in our beds, on the tables we ate at. And bugs. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I can still feel the mosquito bites, the cockroaches crawling over my feet as I tried to sleep. The grit between my teeth, like the food had fallen on the floor before they put it on my plate.” She shuddered.

Jake put an arm around her and pulled her close. He wished he could ease her anguish, somehow erase the memories that still haunted her. She was a remarkable woman, more so because of what she had endured and overcome. He had nearly fallen to pieces when his mother left. Had it not been for his father, he wouldn’t have finished high school. That Meera had spent so much time alone made his heart hurt.

She gently pushed away from him. “I had lost all hope. It was always the younger kids who got adopted. With their wealth and stature, my parents could’ve easily taken home a newborn baby. But they chose me, and in doing so, they saved my life. If I’d grown up in that orphanage, I would’ve ended up on the streets, or someone’s mistress.”

It sounded like a well-rehearsed statement, something rote. He wondered if it was how her parents relayed the story, and if that was what she had listened to growing up.

She fixed him with a look. “Instead, I have a life of luxury. My father gives me a generous monthly allowance that I barely spend in one year. I’m a respected doctor, and I have a wonderful future planned for me. I owe my parents everything. I owe them my soul.”

Now he could see why it was so important to her to get Hell’s Bells to like her. She’d spent her childhood wanting to be accepted.

“Your parents got something in return, you know,” he said softly. “They got you.”

She shook her head and inched away from him, as far as she could in the confined space. She was shutting herself off, retreating somewhere inside herself, and she wasn’t going to let him in. She rubbed her temples.

“I got a lot more than they did, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure they never once regret their decision.”

He thought about this own father, and the hopes and dreams he had placed on Jake, the expectations that Jake had never quite lived up to. “A child is not an investment, Meera.” His voice was soft but she tensed up.

“And my parents have never treated me as such,” she said stiffly.

She stood and stepped down from the cab. She stalked to the garbage bag and resolutely went back to picking up debris, keeping her back to him.

CHAPTER SIX

MEERA TAPPED HER FOOT, listening for the sounds of Dr. Harper and Rose leaving for lunch. They were chatting and laughing while she stewed in the makeshift office Rose had created for her in a utility closet. She fanned herself. Apparently, the air-conditioning was broken. But just in her office-slash-closet. It seemed to be fine in the examination rooms, in Dr. Harper’s office and everywhere else in the clinic.

She should leave, she thought, pack it up, find another rotation after the wedding. It would delay her lab application but so what? She was going to take over her father’s practice; a small delay in starting her lab wouldn’t change the course of her life. Still, her stomach churned at the thought. The one good thing about her timing in Bellhaven was being able to be by herself. A break before she added wife and daughter-in-law to her list of duties. In Indian culture, you didn’t marry the man, you married the family, and Meera was already exhausted thinking about all the things Raj’s mother was adding to her social calendar after the wedding.

Besides, if she left, how would she help clean up the mess she’d made at Jake’s ranch? Despite two hours of hard labor this morning, they had only cleared out the largest pieces of debris. Her arms and legs ached, but she knew she had to put in several hours tonight.

She had overheard Kelly talk about how shorthanded they already were. Even if Jake was taking responsibility for not checking the grill, the barbecue had been her event. She couldn’t inconvenience Jake more than she already had.

She wondered if she should go back to help out in the field rather than sit in the office doing nothing. She wondered whether Jake would be there. The work was grueling and boring, and it would be nice to have his company. As long as he didn’t ask about her parents again.

What was it about his questions that had made her behave so defensively? She had panicked in a way she couldn’t explain. She told the story of her adoption frequently—to relatives, colleagues and others who asked her private questions they couldn’t get her parents to answer. Yet it felt different telling Jake. She sensed he disapproved of her parents. Why? All her life she’d been told how lucky she was, how incredibly grateful she should be. No one had ever reacted like Jake. What was he trying to get at? And why did it bother her so much?

More than twenty years later, she still remembered the day at the orphanage that had changed her life.

It started out like any other day when visitors were expected.

Matron rang the bell while it was still dark out. That’s how Meera knew it was visitors’ day. She woke up in a twelve-by-twelve-foot room with cots lined wall-to-wall. At least twenty children slept in the room with her. She was always careful sitting up and stretching so she didn’t hit the girl next to her.

Matron assigned chores to each girl, and they got to work cleaning floors, washing clothes and dishes, changing the bedsheets. By the time the sun came up, many of the children whined and complained. The ones who had been there awhile, like Meera, didn’t mind because they knew what waited at the end of the grueling morning.

After hours of work, they were lined up in the back maidan, where the surly matron handed out soap, then hosed them down with cold water. The smaller children yelped and tried to run away. Meera stood still. The cold water would last only a few minutes, but the feeling of not having dirt and grime all over her skin would last the whole day.

They were given clean clothes to wear. She put hers on quickly and ran to the dining room. She eyed the plates and took the seat nearest to the biggest bowl of food. The bowl would be passed to each child, but the first person always got the largest scoop. It might be the only time all month she’d get a belly full of food.

The rest of the children filed in and took their seats. The visitors were shown in, and the matron went about serving the children. It was the only time she did that; on a normal day, the children were left to scratch their way to the last morsels of food.

The visitors watched and asked questions. They stopped to talk to the children about what it was like in the orphanage. They all knew their lines; they had been made to recite them over and over until they knew them by heart.

“The matron takes such good care of us.”

“We eat like this every day.”

“We’re so lucky to have this place.”

Meera knew her lines better than anybody else. She gave the tour of the sparkling orphanage and talked about the janitorial staff that cleaned the place every day. She happily showed them the toys that had been brought out that morning. She spied the stethoscope and used it to pretend she was a doctor. Once, she had hidden it under her bed after the visitors left, but the matron found it and gave her a beating. She proudly showed it to the visitors as her favorite toy, one that she played with all the time.

She hadn’t noticed her father in the group of ten or so prospective parents that were there that day, but she had slyly admired the lady with the beautiful hair, dark red lips and pretty blue sari. She gaped at the diamond earrings glittering in her ears, wondering whether she would ever get to wear something so beautiful.

On the day visitors came, the children were allowed into the TV room. The matron often put on an English movie to show the visitors that her girls knew English. Most of the kids didn’t understand the language, but they enjoyed the treat. Meera loved movies, even the ones she’d watched a dozen times.

Matron was clear on what life held for her charges. Meera could stay at the orphanage “for free” for another year, but then she had to get a job and pay rent. Meera’s job prospects in a small town outside of Kolkata were nonexistent. She would have to go to the big city and become a beggar...or worse. If she were lucky, an old man in town might marry her. Meera spent every day trying to find a way out of her situation. The movies were her escape. They let her believe, for a short amount of time, that her life could be different.

She had been through enough visitors’ days to know that the girls who were called to the matron’s office during the movie were the ones the visitors had selected. The chosen ones. It was always the younger girls, the ones who were still in nappies. The ones who could barely say a word but cooed and giggled. If any of the older children were selected, it was the pretty girls, the fair-skinned ones. Meera knew she would never be her. She was too old, her skin was too dark and she definitely wasn’t pretty enough. What she hoped for were the few rupees visitors sometimes gave the older children out of pity. On lucky days, she could hide the money before Matron confiscated it.

On this day, the matron twisted her finger and motioned for Meera to come to the office. Meera’s heart raced. They must want more tea; why else would they call her? In the office, the lady with the blue sari sat with her back straight. There was a man with her, and he called out to Meera. She walked over to him, afraid she had done something wrong. What could they want from her? He got down on his knees so he was at eye level with her and asked if she would come live with them and be his daughter.

The man spoke English, a language she had taught herself but still didn’t know fluently. Had she misunderstood?

He must have seen the disbelief on her face because he asked her again in Hindi. She couldn’t believe her ears and stood there stunned until she heard Matron’s harsh voice telling her to answer. She nodded excitedly. From there, things went quickly. She saw her new father hand Matron fat wads of cash.

Meera’s life had never been the same since. Her mother had taught her how to dress and do her makeup so she always looked glamorous. Her father gave her everything she needed. No one would ever guess Meera had been a poor orphan girl. They had given her a fairy-tale life, but not once had she forgotten that orphanage or what her life could have been.

But was that because her parents never let her? She shook her head. She was letting Jake’s reaction cloud her thinking. What was that thing she’d felt when they were sitting so close together in the forklift? And why had she let him hold her hand? More important, why did she feel so connected to him? She laughed at herself. I have a silly schoolgirl crush on an American cowboy. I’ll get over it. The rest was her imagination running wild. She had watched three Western movies on the flight from London.

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