THE PERFECT PRESCRIPTION

Dr. Chloe Brody cares about all her patients. Maybe more than she should. Because one day rodeo cowboy Wyatt Kelley shows up in her ER, busted up but still flirting. He’s got no place to go, so she takes him home.

Soon, Wyatt is seeing stuff no one else in Chloe’s life has noticed. The pretty doctor has a full life, but inside, she’s alone, just like him. When the attraction between them heats up, Wyatt knows he should leave Blue Falls and Chloe behind—because what can a broken cowboy with an ugly past offer a woman like her? Chloe, though, is determined to show Wyatt that she doesn’t care about his past. She just wants him to be a part of her future.

She smiled a little. “First time for everything.”

“Yeah, I guess.” He said it slowly, at the last moment looking at her lips before lifting his gaze to her eyes again.

Chloe swallowed hard. Before she did something stupid, something she couldn’t take back, she broke eye contact and stepped around him.

“I need to check how well your incisions are healing.” Though the thought of looking at even that little sliver of skin caused heat to flood her cheeks. As least her back was to him. Without waiting for Wyatt, she headed to her bedroom and pulled fresh bandages from the bag she’d stored there.

When she turned around, Wyatt was almost done unbuttoning his shirt. “What are you doing?”

He paused. “Taking it off.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I’m not going to sleep in it.” He smiled as he slipped the last two buttons through the holes and shrugged out of the shirt.

Her mouth went dry, and she was probably staring at him as if she’d never seen a half-naked man before.

Still smiling, Wyatt crossed the space between them. “Do I make you nervous, Dr. Brody?”

Dear Reader,

Welcome back to Blue Falls, Texas, a town that has become so real to me that I want to go shopping at the Yesterwear Boutique, eat pastries at the Mehlerhaus Bakery and go for a walk around Blue Falls Lake. Oh, and let’s not forget having a good time at one of the local rodeos filled with cowboys with rodeo in their blood.

It’s one of those rodeos that brings my latest hero, Wyatt Kelley, to Blue Falls. And the injury he sustains when he’s thrown from a bull is what brings him into Dr. Chloe Brody’s emergency room...and into her heart.

I tend to write stories about people who have endured loss but find a way to move on and fall in love. This couldn’t be more true for Wyatt and Chloe, and I hope you enjoy reading their story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Trish Milburn

The Doctor’s Cowboy

Trish Milburn

www.millsandboon.co.uk

TRISH MILBURN writes contemporary romance for the Mills & Boon American Romance line and paranormal romance for the Mills & Boon Nocturne series. She’s a two-time Golden Heart Award winner, a fan of walks in the woods and road trips, and a big geek girl, including being a dedicated Whovian and Browncoat. And from her earliest memories, she’s been a fan of Westerns, be they historical or contemporary. There’s nothing quite like a cowboy hero.

Thanks to San Dee Keefner for her help with the medical/ER aspects of this story.

And to all the readers of the Blue Falls, Texas books who have written to me about enjoying the stories or who have left lovely reviews online, thank you so much!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

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

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Wyatt Kelley stood on the edge of the bucking chute, looking down at the monster bull. Beelzebub. From what he’d heard of the bull’s nasty attitude, the demonic name fit. Yeah, this had “easy ride” written all over it. The moment he mounted the two-ton bull, ol’ Beezy let him know exactly what he thought of having a rider by twitching, fidgeting, snorting. Basically saying, “Your butt is toast.”

“I don’t think he wants to be your best friend,” said one of the cowboys manning the chute.

“What?” Wyatt patted the bull on the side of his neck. “This little guy is a sweetheart. We’re going out for drinks afterward.”

As if to disagree, Beezy stomped the dirt and shuddered beneath him, causing the bell hanging from the lower part of Wyatt’s bull rope to clang.

“Next up, we’ve got a cowboy out of the Cowboy State,” the rodeo announcer said as Wyatt readjusted the rope, getting his grip just right. “Wyatt Kelley will be riding Beelzebub.”

Wyatt took a deep breath, let it out, then nodded. The moment the chute opened, Beelzebub shot out and began bucking as if Wyatt were a nest full of angry hornets. The arena around him became a dirt-brown blur as the bull spun and kicked so hard it nearly jarred the teeth out of Wyatt’s head. As if ticked off that he hadn’t gotten rid of Wyatt’s weight yet, Beezy switched directions and kicked even harder.

Wyatt held on for all he was worth, pretty sure this was the longest eight seconds of his career. And he’d ridden more bulls than he could count. In the next moment, his hat went flying. Sensing victory, the bull seemed to corral all of his intense power and did a belly roll, coming completely off the ground as he kicked all four feet out to the side. Wyatt felt himself slide but he tightened his hold on the rope and his legs pressed against the bull’s sides. By some miracle, he stayed on.

But as soon as the bull landed on his feet, he went into a spin that spelled doom. In less than the blink of an eye, the bull bucked Wyatt off into the well, the center of the rank bastard’s spin. Wyatt’s heart rate accelerated when he realized his hand was caught in his rope, adrenaline fueling panic. He fought to free himself, but before he could Beezy caught him with a horn.

Pain shot through the lower part of his side just before he went airborne and was flung to the other side of the bull. Wyatt was still fighting to free himself and not succumb to the pain when the bull caught him again, this time across his abdomen just below his safety vest.

This was not good. Really not good.

Wyatt felt like a rag doll, one that might well soon have its guts spilling over the dirt of the arena. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t thought of dying like this before, but the reality sure did suck a bushel of lemons.

His body slammed against the ground before he realized his hand had finally come loose from the rope. His vision dimmed, and he didn’t think he could move even if he saw the bull’s hooves heading toward his face. But it wasn’t the bull that came into his line of sight but rather the painted face of one of the bullfighters.

“Hang on, buddy.” The man’s words sounded off, as if they were having to move through water or maybe thick syrup to reach Wyatt’s ears. “We’re going to get you some help.”

The bullfighter shifted away to speak to someone Wyatt couldn’t see. Wyatt stared up at the sky beyond the lights of the arena and blinked slowly. He wondered if he looked down would he find that the lower half of his body was no longer attached to the top half and they just hadn’t told him yet.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but it seemed between one blink and the next paramedics appeared. He glanced to the right and saw an ambulance. At least it wasn’t a hearse. Guess that meant he wasn’t dead. They fitted him with a neck brace without too much trouble. But when they started to slip a backboard beneath him, he cried out without even thinking about it. That tended to happen when it felt as if your gut were being sliced open with a flaming hot machete.

In the next moment, the two paramedics and what must have been half the cowboys in attendance were lifting him and carrying him to the ambulance. Somehow the muffled applause of the spectators reached him, and the guy from the chute smiled down at him.

“Hear that? You’re going to get a lot of ladies after this.”

Wyatt wasn’t entirely sure that the body parts that would interest the ladies weren’t long gone. And when they loaded him in the ambulance, causing a fresh hell to tear at his middle, thoughts of the ladies were the furthest thing from his mind.

Everything seemed to send a new shock wave of pain through him. The slamming shut of the ambulance door, the driver climbing into the front seat, the jouncing of the rig as it left the arena. When the ambulance made the turn out of the rodeo grounds onto the road, black dots appeared in front of Wyatt’s eyes.

“To hell with this,” he thought before letting himself pass out.

* * *

DR. CHLOE BRODY dropped the coins into the snack machine then looked through the glass front at her choices. The granola bar or bag of apple slices were the wisest choices, but the chocolate cupcakes seemed to be singing a siren song to her. Come on, you know you want to, that devious package of sugary goodness whispered. You can run off the pesky calories later.

Giving in to temptation, she punched the appropriate buttons and watched the cupcakes drop.

“Hey, Doc,” called Lori Dalton from the ER nurses’ station. “You want to enter the pool?”

Chloe grabbed her cupcakes and walked toward the trio of women behind the desk. “I’m afraid to ask. What’s the pool for?”

Sophie Wells, a petite blonde, looked up and smiled. “On who Verona is going to target next.”

Chloe laughed as she leaned against the wall that separated the nurses’ station from the four curtained trauma and triage areas. Verona Charles was Blue Falls’s version of Cupid. Her favorite pastime was seeing which couples she could match up. While she sent many happily single people fleeing, she did have a remarkably good rate of success. Last year alone, she’d not only successfully matched her niece, Elissa, but also Elissa’s two best friends, India and Skyler. And she’d probably had her hand in a few more couples ending up together.

“You all are tempting fate,” Chloe said.

“I already have a man,” said Lori as she flashed her engagement ring.

Chloe gestured toward Sophie and Jenna Marks, who normally worked at the clinic with Chloe but was picking up some extra hours at the hospital. As usual, the nurse had her dark brown hair pulled back in a thick ponytail that swayed when she moved. “Yeah, but these two don’t.”

“Well, you could help with Jenna,” Sophie said. “She’s had the hots for your brother forever.”

Jenna swatted Sophie’s arm.

“What? You do. Every time you see Garrett, you practically drool all over yourself.”

Jenna huffed. “I do not.”

“Whatever.” Sophie returned her gaze to Chloe.

“Oh, no.” Chloe shook her head. “I’m not getting in the middle of that.” She gestured toward the notepad on which Lori had written several names. “Who are the choices?”

“My money’s on Greg Bozeman,” Sophie said.

Chloe laughed again. “You’ve got to be joking.” Greg was the biggest flirt in town, more so than even her younger brother, Owen.

“Think about it,” Sophie said. “It would be the biggest feather in her cap so far.”

Chloe shook her head. “I’ll believe it when I see it. What are my other choices?”

“Daisy Ford,” Lori said, naming one of the waitresses down at the Primrose Café. “Jesse Bradshaw, Andrew Canton.” Lori read off a few other names before tossing in Bernie Shumaker, who had to be as old as Blue Falls.

“Okay, now I know you all have lost it.”

Sophie shrugged. “Got to do something. It’s a slow night.”

They all froze.

“You did not just say that,” Lori said.

They all looked toward the emergency entrance as if Sophie’s words would tempt a herd of sick and injured to start flooding the ER. When the doors remained free of patients, they breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“What about you, Chloe?” Jenna asked, grinning. “You’re single. Maybe we should put your name on the list.”

Chloe lifted her package of cupcakes. “On that note, my new best friends and I are headed to the break room.”

She’d just sat down and ripped away the plastic wrapping when she heard the siren. Considering one of the hospital’s two ambulances sat outside the ER, this one had to be coming from the rodeo. Leaving her snack behind, she hurried back to the ER just as the paramedics were unloading their patient.

“What have we got?” she asked Dale Marsh, one of the paramedics.

“Male, thirty-one, name Wyatt Kelley. Took a bull horn to the side and the lower abdomen.”

As she got her first look at the cowboy, she noticed his shirt soaked with blood. “Put him in trauma one.”

Chloe started directing the nurses to remove both the cowboy’s protective vest and his shirt so she could assess the seriousness of the guy’s injuries. He’d been out cold when they wheeled him in, but when they lifted him he moaned in agony. As they laid him back, his eyes shot wide open and locked on her.

“Are you trying to kill me?” he asked, his voice breathless and strained.

She smiled, hoping to calm him. “Quite the opposite, handsome. You’ll be good as new before you know it.” A lot of doctors she’d worked with remained detached and clinical when working with patients, but that wasn’t her style. She’d tried, and just couldn’t stick to it. Wanting to help people and caring about them were the reasons she’d become a doctor in the first place. Maybe she’d burn out sooner, but she’d deal with that when the time came.

Chloe squeezed his hand then got back to work flushing his wounds. She pulled out a sliver of horn that had broken off and directed the nurses to start antibiotics so the bacteria from the horn didn’t do the guy in. When she was able to see the wounds better, a deep laceration just below where his safety vest had ended and a puncture wound in his left side, she knew he needed surgery.

She made eye contact with Jenna. “Get Dr. Pierce in here.”

Jenna nodded and hurried out of the trauma area.

“Please tell me Dr. Pierce isn’t in charge of the morgue,” the cowboy said.

Despite the pain he was in, the guy still managed to hang on to his sense of humor. She was pretty sure she’d be howling in agony.

“Not for this little scratch, cowboy.”

“Wyatt.”

She nodded. “Nice to meet you, Wyatt. I’m Dr. Brody.”

He gritted his teeth against a wave of pain. “Gotta say, you’re way prettier than most of the ER docs I’ve seen.”

She shook her head. “See, you’re not hurt too badly if you can flirt.” The reality was his injuries weren’t minor, but she didn’t need him freaking out about how he wasn’t going to be sitting on a bull anytime in the near future. These guys lived pretty spare unless they were in the big money, and Blue Falls hadn’t quite made it to the big-time rodeo circuit yet.

“Hon, there’s always time to flirt until you stop breathing.” As if to contradict himself, he caught his breath as his injuries sent another jolt of pain through his body.

The good thing about Blue Falls being so small, it didn’t take Dr. Pierce, the surgeon, long to reach the hospital.

Chloe took Wyatt’s hand. “We’re going to send you to surgery now and get you fixed up. Dr. Pierce will take good care of you.” She gestured toward where the surgeon was walking by on his way to prep for surgery.

“He’s not as pretty as you,” Wyatt said, drawing a chuckle from Chloe.

When she started to step away, Wyatt squeezed her hand with a surprising grip considering the shape he was in. When her eyes met his, her heart skipped a beat. Damn, he was good-looking, even dirt-and blood-covered and with his face pale from the pain and blood loss. An unexpected heat rushed through her before she grabbed on to some professionalism and gave his hand a quick squeeze before releasing it.

“See you on the other side, cowboy.”

Wyatt gave her a crooked grin. “Promise?”

She just smiled and sent him off to surgery.

“Yep, we definitely need to add you to the pool list,” Lori said. “In fact, I think you just jumped to the top of it.”

“Wyatt and Chloe sitting in a tree,” Sophie said in a singsong voice. “K-i-s-s-i-n-g.”

Chloe made as if she were going to throw one of her used surgical gloves at Sophie, sending the nurse scurrying away with a laugh. “Hard to pair me with someone who doesn’t live here.”

“India’s and Skyler’s husbands didn’t live here, either, when they met them,” Sophie called back.

Jenna deposited her used gloves in the hazardous waste bin. “And they just happened to be hot cowboys, too.”

Chloe rolled her eyes and disposed of her own gloves. After thoroughly washing her hands and arms, she left the ER with a wave to the nurses. “I’m going to go finish my date with a cupcake.”

“Save one for that delicious cowboy,” Sophie called down the corridor.

She wasn’t sure if it was the nurses’ teasing, Wyatt Kelley’s flirting, or the way her heart had stuttered when he’d held her hand and met her eyes, but she kept thinking about him throughout the rest of her shift. The cupcakes didn’t distract her. Neither did dealing with a toddler who’d eaten an electric-lime crayon. When she tried to focus on anything else, her mind kept sliding back to the rugged angle of Wyatt’s square jaw and those blue-gray eyes that had watched her with more interest than anyone with his abdomen ripped open should have been able to muster.

Even after her shift was over, she hung around. She figured the nurses would have a field day with that, but she didn’t care. She kept telling herself it was professional interest, that she wanted to make sure her patient made it through surgery. She was so wrapped up in trying to convince herself she wasn’t interested in Wyatt Kelley for anything other than medical reasons that she nearly ran into Dr. Pierce as he came out of the short corridor that led to surgery.

“You’re still here?” His forehead wrinkled as he glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Yeah. Just checking on a few things before I leave.” She nodded toward the surgical area. “How’s Mr. Kelley?”

“In one piece, though he’s not going to be riding in the foreseeable future. Maybe ever.”

She didn’t know Wyatt, but her heart hurt for him at that bit of news. She’d been around enough cowboys in her life to know they didn’t like having to face hanging it up.

Several long moments after Dr. Pierce left, Chloe continued to stare down the corridor toward the double doors that led to surgery. She’d spent mere minutes with Wyatt, but she didn’t like the image that formed in her mind of the light going out of his beautiful eyes as his future was ripped away. Why she cared so much, she had no idea. But she did.

Chapter Two

Wyatt started to wake when he heard voices. He couldn’t distinguish actual words through the fog in his head, but the conversation nearby was enough to pull him toward the surface. As he listened, he could gradually make out words from the murmuring voices. Surgery. Out. Night. It was like listening to a radio station that was mostly static with only the occasional intelligible word.

He knew there was something he could do to help make sense of what was going on, but damned if he could remember what it was. So he lay still and listened to the voices—two women—and searched his brain for the answer. Then it hit him. He could open his eyes. But when he tried, that simple act proved to be easier thought than done.

What in the world had happened to him to make his body refuse to cooperate with his brain’s commands?

“Dr. Pierce said the surgery went well last night,” one of the voices said. There was something familiar about it, something that made him desperate to open his eyes. “I’m working at the clinic this afternoon, but let me know if anything changes.”

She was leaving. No, she couldn’t leave, not without him seeing the face that went with that voice. He concentrated on that one thought, the absolute necessity of opening his eyes before it was too late. At first, his eyelids did no more than flutter, but he concentrated harder and they finally lifted. The world around him came into focus bit by bit until his gaze fixed on her, the owner of the voice, the doctor who had joked with him in the ER.

“Will do,” the nurse said.

Another nurse stuck her head in through the doorway. “I need help with Mrs. Walker in 221.”

He watched as both nurses left the room without noticing he was awake. The doctor scanned what must be his medical chart. More of the fuzzy feeling in his head receded as he watched her make a notation on the chart then push her chin-length, reddish-brown hair behind her ear. He’d been in a lot of pain when he’d awakened in the ER, but he hadn’t been so far gone that he didn’t notice she was pretty. And now, as he fought his way out of what had to be a medicine-induced haze, he thought her even more so.

The doctor—what was her name? She’d told him, but he couldn’t pull that information from his memory. Maybe he’d sustained another concussion in addition to the nasty lacerations. As she placed the chart at the end of his bed and turned to head for the door, he tried to say something but found his throat was as dry as cardboard. Instead of words, what came out was a strangled squawk. Yeah, that would get the ladies every time.

But it was enough to cause the doctor to lift her eyes to his.

“Well, hello there, sleepyhead,” she said. She smiled as she moved to his side. “Sounds like you could use a drink.” She poured him a cup of water from the pitcher on the bedside table then handed it to him.

When he reached for the cup, a sharp pain in his side caused him to suck in a breath then grit his teeth.

The doctor guided his hand to the cup and continued to steady it until she was sure he could hold it on his own.

“You’ll want to not make any sudden moves for a while,” she said. “No stretching, no lifting. If you need something, use the call button and a nurse will come help you.”

He nodded though he hated the idea of being dependent. Maybe she was just being overly cautious. After all, this wasn’t his first trip to the hospital, not even his first surgery. Chances were he’d be up and about in a few days. He might have to skip two or three rodeos, a hit on his finances he sure didn’t need, but some things couldn’t be helped. But if taking it easy in the hospital for a day or two helped him heal faster, then that’s what he’d do. After all, he had a pretty doctor to tend his wounds.

The doctor reached to push the button to raise the head of the bed. That’s when he noticed the name tag attached to her white lab coat. Dr. C. Brody. When the bed came to a stop, he brought the cup to his dry lips and took a drink. The water wasn’t exactly cold as he liked it, but nothing had ever tasted so good. He started to down the rest of it when Dr. Brody stayed his hand.

“Go slowly.”

Against his instinct, he did as she said and took another sip, letting it trickle down his throat as he met her eyes, pretty green ones with what looked like flecks of brown. When she broke eye contact and removed her hand from his, his gaze drifted to her lips. She wore a hint of pale pink lipstick, and something about the sight of it made his throat go dry again.

Dr. Brody crossed her arms. “So how are you feeling this morning?”

He glanced toward the window and saw that it was indeed daylight. “How long was I out?”

“Overnight and most of the morning. And you’re feeling?” she asked again.

“Better than when I got here, but I bet that has a lot to do with whatever is in that.” He pointed toward the IV pole that held two bags of liquids that were attached to his arm via tubes.

“Yeah, we kind of have to drug you up when you battle a bull and the bull wins.”

He grinned at her. She was so unlike any doctor he’d ever met, funny and friendly. He pointed toward her name tag. “So what’s the C for?”

“My first name.”

He lifted a brow. “And that would be?”

“You know, I think I’ll let you guess. That’ll give you something to do while you recuperate.”

“Caroline.”

“Nope.” With a self-satisfied smile, she turned to head toward the door again.

“Charlotte.”

“No more guesses today,” she called out as she slipped into the hallway and out of sight.

He might be less than twenty-four hours away from nearly getting his guts ripped out, but he found himself smiling. He liked a good challenge, and it seemed the lovely Dr. Brody was giving him exactly that.

* * *

CHLOE FINISHED HER hospital rounds several minutes later after listening to Henry Stillwater complain about everything from how the IV was hurting his hand to the inedible quality of the hospital food. She had to admit, the barely touched lunch on his table didn’t look particularly appetizing. She wasn’t even sure what the glob of yellowish orange goo was supposed to be.

As soon as she made her escape from Henry’s room, her gaze shifted across the nurses’ station to the first room she’d visited on her rounds. Wyatt’s room. She tried telling herself that she was simply glad to see him awake and on the mend, but she could still feel the buzz in her middle that had started the moment she’d looked at him to find him watching her. The buzz that had only increased when she’d helped him grip the cup of water. A strange giddiness had blossomed to life within her when he’d tried to guess her name and she’d decided to keep him guessing.

While she was friendly and often teased her patients in the hope of taking their minds off their pain, her few minutes with Wyatt had felt different. And that wasn’t wise because as soon as he was discharged he’d go home, a home that wasn’t in Blue Falls. She didn’t really know him and shouldn’t care if he left as long as she’d done her job and set him on a path to recovery. But as soon as she’d exited his room, she’d started thinking about the next time she’d see him. Because she would see him once more, tomorrow when she was due to make hospital rounds again.

“You okay?”

Chloe jerked her attention away from Wyatt’s doorway to where Sophie stood on the other side of the desk giving her a curious stare.

“Yeah, just remembered a call I have to make later this afternoon.”

Sophie glanced over her shoulder, straight toward Wyatt’s doorway. “Uh-huh.”

Ignoring the suspicion in Sophie’s voice, Chloe made a show of pulling her phone from her pocket and checking it. “Well, I have appointments at the clinic beginning in ten minutes.” She nodded toward Henry’s room. “You might want to get Henry something sweet from the vending machine. It’ll probably make the rest of your shift more pleasant.”

Sophie nodded. After all, it wasn’t the first time they’d dealt with Henry’s crankiness. “Good idea.”

Chloe made her escape before Sophie could shift her focus back to Wyatt again. Though the left-hand corridor was closer to the exit next to the clinic, it also led past Wyatt’s door. So Chloe made an unnecessary stop by the restroom located down the right-side corridor to give herself an excuse for going that direction. She wasn’t normally a coward, but she’d never been crazy attracted to a patient before, either.

Once inside the restroom, she crossed to the sink and stared at herself in the mirror. Was that heightened color in her cheeks? She shook her head as she turned on the cold water and splashed some onto her face. She had to set aside the attraction before she saw him again. The last thing she needed was to blush like this in front of Wyatt. She could be cool and professional one more day, and then she was off work the following two days. Maybe Wyatt would be discharged by the time she had to walk these halls again.

Her afternoon was filled with so many appointments that she didn’t have time to think about Wyatt or her attraction to the unlucky cowboy. But as she left the clinic at the end of the day, she had to fight the urge to go back to the hospital to check on him. Instead, she turned toward her car. When she was in the driver’s seat, she didn’t immediately start the engine. Though she was tired from a long day, part of her didn’t want to go home, not when she was still feeling strange about a man she barely knew. The last thing she needed was her dad or either of her brothers sensing something was off about her and digging until they found out what it was.

She glanced at herself in the rearview mirror. “Stop being an idiot.”

Even though she told herself to stop thinking about Wyatt, her thoughts kept going back to that grin of his, the one he shot in her direction despite the pain he was experiencing. She’d seen his type before, tough as thick leather and used to charming the pants right off a gal. Well, she wasn’t a buckle bunny happy to draw a cowboy’s attention. If she wanted a cowboy, she didn’t have to wait for one to stroll into town, or be wheeled into her ER. This was Texas, after all. Cowboys were a dime a dozen, even without the regular rodeos bringing them to Blue Falls.

It was a ten-mile drive out to her family’s ranch, and she told herself that she could think about Wyatt and his grin until she pulled into the driveway. Then she needed to leave those memories behind. Her thoughts wandered back to how he’d flirted with her in the ER, the fine cut of his chest and abdomen that she’d noticed despite his injuries, the way his eyes crinkled at the edges when he smiled. Though she’d never seen him standing, she imagined he was one of those guys who had a sexy saunter, the kind that made women think losing their pants might not be such a bad idea.

The moment the entrance to the ranch came into view, she forced thoughts of Wyatt Kelley from her mind, replacing them with anything she could think of—the acreage of the ranch, the book she was reading, trying to remember the names of all the women her brother Owen had dated. That last one took long enough that she was parking next to the house by the time she ran out of names.

Once inside, she changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, then mixed up a batch of cornbread muffins to go with the roast she’d put in the Crock-Pot that morning. The delicious smells filling the kitchen reminded her of Henry’s complaints about his hospital food, which of course led her to wondering if Wyatt hated it, too. Or was he so used to eating junk on the road that hospital meals were actually a step up?

Damn it, here she was thinking about him again.

The back door opening caused her to jump, but thankfully her dad and brothers didn’t notice as they hung their hats on the rack by the door and slipped off their dirty boots.

“That sure smells good,” her dad said as he crossed to the refrigerator and pulled out a cold root beer, his favorite drink. He downed about half the bottle in one go, following it with a satisfied smack of his lips. “How was your day?”

“Fine, long. Henry Stillwater’s in the hospital again.”

Garrett, her older brother, walked to the kitchen island and nabbed a couple of the white chocolate-covered pretzels she’d been snacking on. “That old coot is in the hospital so much, I’m beginning to think he has a crush on you.”

Chloe snorted. “More like he should stop smoking, but I’d be less surprised if UT decided to get rid of their football team.”

Owen, her younger brother, snatched the pretzel bag from Garrett. “So, did that bull rider survive last night?”

A momentary flare of panic hit her right in the chest, fear that he’d somehow found out about her attraction to Wyatt. But unless Owen had suddenly developed the ability to read minds, there was no way he could know. Unless one of the nurses made some comment about her flirting in the ER.

“Yeah. Dr. Pierce had to sew him up, but he’ll make it.”

“Huh. I thought he might be a goner after what that bull did to him.”

Chloe didn’t want to encourage her brother to share any gory details so she turned to the Crock-Pot and started dishing up bowls of roast.

While her family ate dinner, as they had countless times before, Chloe found it hard to pay attention to what her dad and brothers were saying. She kept thinking about how close Wyatt had come to dying. She might not know him beyond a few minutes of conversation, but the idea that his life might have been snuffed out the night before bothered her. Really bothered her.

Of course it did. She was a doctor, charged with saving lives.

Even the lives of ridiculously good-looking cowboys.

“Earth to Chloe,” Owen said as he waved a hand in front of her face.

“What? Sorry.”

“How are things in la-la land?”

She swatted his hand away. “I’m just tired. Didn’t sleep well last night.”

Normally, sleeping like a log wasn’t a problem, especially on days when she worked a twelve-hour shift. But for some reason, she’d woken up several times the night before. She’d gotten the sense she’d been dreaming a lot, but she couldn’t remember about what. Now she wondered if it might have been about a certain injured bull rider.

“I think I’m going to turn in early if someone else can handle the dishes.”

“Go on,” Garrett said. “I’ll get them.”

She gave him a tired smile. “Thanks.”

“Good, because I got a hot date,” Owen said as he scooted away from the table.

“You always have a hot date,” Garrett said.

“You should try it sometime, big brother.”

Not really in the mood to talk about her brothers’ dating lives or lack thereof, Chloe headed to the bathroom. After a quick shower to wash away the day, she trudged into her bedroom and climbed into bed. But despite the fact that she really was tired, sleep seemed far away as she stared out the window at the sliver of moon.

The tug of loneliness made a reappearance, as it had several times recently. It didn’t make much sense considering she was around people all day long and still lived at home with her family. When she’d first started feeling as if something was missing a couple of weeks earlier, she’d wondered if for some reason she’d started missing her mother again. Honestly, she missed her mom every day if she thought about it, despite the fact it’d been more than twenty years since her death.

But as she thought about that loss now, it didn’t seem to match the empty spot that had opened up inside Chloe. Not knowing how to tackle the unfamiliar and unwanted feeling proved frustrating. She was the type of person who saw a problem or obstacle and faced it head-on. But how did you do that if you couldn’t identify the culprit?

She listened to the movements of her dad and brother downstairs, and it hit her that they were every bit as alone as she was. Only Owen had an active love life, but even he showed no signs of getting serious with anyone.

Chloe laid the back of her hand against her forehead and searched for the moment when she’d first noticed the emptiness. She realized after several minutes that it had been shortly after her friend Linnea had announced her engagement and started planning her dream wedding. Is that what Chloe wanted—the big wedding, the happily ever after?

Of course she did. So did most women. But it had always been a “someday” sort of thing. It seemed as if someday were catching up with her, but getting married and having a family of her own wasn’t as simple as it sounded, either. You couldn’t just go shopping for a husband like you could a new car. Not to mention that her schedule was always crazy busy between working at the clinic and hospital and helping out her family.

Still, she couldn’t dispel that line of thought as she tried to force herself to go to sleep. Her mind began to manufacture scenes as she started to drift, scenes of her with her own house, a big yard where two small children laughed and played. She looked toward a barn in the distance, saw someone walk out of it and head toward her. Her heart leaped and the excitement of anticipation rushed through her. As the man drew closer, the thought that he was her husband, the love of her life, settled comfortably within her.

When he came near enough for her to see his face, she smiled. Wyatt didn’t stop until he pulled her into his arms and kissed her with so much passion that she knew in the deepest part of her heart that she was the luckiest woman in the world.

Chapter Three

Wyatt flipped through the channels on the TV for what had to be the tenth time. Still nothing remotely interesting. He was beginning to look forward to a nurse coming to check his vitals just so he’d have something to do.

As if the cosmos had heard his plea, someone walked into his room. Fate had taken pity on him because it was pretty Dr. Brody. She glanced at the TV, where he’d paused on some sort of infomercial for jewelry cleaner, and smiled.

“Got a lot of silver you need to clean?”

He flicked off the TV. “Daytime TV is garbage.”

“Yeah, sorry we don’t have any decent movie channels.”

“Is it possible to die of boredom?”

She lifted his chart from the end of the bed. “Afraid not, though I’m sure it feels that way.” She made a couple of notations on the chart before returning it to its previous spot.

“So, I think I’ve figured out your name.”

“That so?” Dr. Brody walked around to the side of his bed and checked the fluids in his IV bags.

“Yeah. You look like a Carly.”

“Swing and a miss.”

“Christa.”

“Nope.”

When he started to guess again, she shook her head. “Only two guesses a day.”

He lifted a brow. “Just how long do you think I’m going to be in here?”

“That’s partly up to Dr. Pierce.” She pointed toward the IV bags. “But we’ll start gradually lowering the dosage on these as well as the painkiller.”

“So what do I get when I guess your name?”

A hint of a smile tugged at the edge of her mouth. “The satisfaction of a mystery solved.”

He laughed a little, and damn if it didn’t hurt his middle. “You must have gone to the medical school where they teach doctors to have an actual personality.”

“Oh, this is all me, there way before med school.”

“Naturally quick with comebacks, huh?”

“That’s what happens when you grow up with brothers. Couldn’t beat them up, couldn’t outrun them, but I could win in a smart-mouth contest any day.”

She shifted as if leaving already, and he caught himself just before he reached out and grabbed her arm. “Seriously, when can I get out of this place?”

Her light demeanor fell away. “You sustained significant injuries. If that horn had cut a little deeper, you might not be talking to me right now. You’d at the very best be feeling a lot worse. So you need to give your body time to repair itself.”

“That’s not a definite answer.”

“Because I don’t know a definite answer. It depends on how quickly and how well your injuries begin to heal.”

Frustration welled up within him. He was not good at lying around doing nothing, especially when he was pretty sure he’d exhausted his limited health-care coverage by the time he rolled out of surgery.

“Is there anyone we can call to let them know you’re here?” she asked. “Having visitors would make the days go by more quickly.”

He shook his head. Even if he were back in Wyoming, there wasn’t anyone close enough that he’d be able to call them up and have them sit in a hospital with him.

“Tell you what. I’m done with my rounds in a few minutes. I’ll bring you some magazines, maybe a crossword puzzle book. That will help pass the time until something decent comes on TV tonight.”

“Any chance I can at least go sit outside?”

He had to give her credit. She looked genuinely sorry when she shook her head. “Not yet.”

He was going to go stark-raving mad.

“I know it stinks. But I’ll be back with some issues of Woman’s Day before you know it.”

“You are evil,” he said, at least thankful that she was personable and he had her brief visits to look forward to.

“Who, me? I’m an angel.” She pretended to buff an invisible halo before laughing a little and heading for the door. “Hang in there, cowboy.”

She knew his name, but there was something about the way she called him “cowboy” that he liked. Still, part of him enjoyed imagining her saying his name right before he kissed those pink lips. Yeah, he’d been daydreaming about his doctor. That’s what happened when you were full of stitches, unable to get out of bed and had way too many hours of staring at the wall. Not to mention not having been on a date in a while.

Wyatt was pretty sure the minutes slowed after she left. He stared out the narrow window, but the view of the empty helipad lost his interest pretty quickly. He closed his eyes and tried to think of every possible female name that started with a C. He wanted to know the doc’s name, but he sure didn’t want to stay in the hospital long enough to guess it. Maybe he’d get lucky tomorrow. He settled on the two most likely choices then was left with nothing to do again. He finally resorted to turning on the TV and found an older-than-dirt action movie. It wasn’t a great film, but it was better than resorting to counting the divots in the ceiling tiles.

He was beginning to wonder how the movie even got made when Dr. Brody returned, the promised magazines in hand. He muted the TV as she placed the magazines on the rolling table and pushed it close so he could reach it.

“I behaved,” she said as he sifted through the stack of magazines. One about hunting and fishing, another about cars, Sports Illustrated and... “Mostly.”

He laughed at the copy of Cosmopolitan. “Maybe it’ll help me figure out how women’s minds work.”

“You mean you don’t think you know that already?”

“There’s not a man alive who’s figured that out.”

“Maybe you all just aren’t observant enough.”

Wyatt shook his head, not going down that road filled with land mines. “Thanks for the magazines.”

She reached into her coat pocket, pulled out a candy bar and set it beside the magazines and the crossword puzzle book. “Figured this might come in handy, too.”

“You were in my head.”

“No, I just see what passes for dessert here.”

Thunder rumbled outside, drawing their attention to the window. It had grown dark out, even though it was still a few hours from nightfall. Wyatt noticed that a weather broadcast had broken in on the movie. The radar image was several shades of red with lots of indications of lightning strikes.

“That doesn’t look good,” he said.

Dr. Brody sighed. “Just in time for my drive home.”

“Guess you’ll have to stay here until it passes.” When she glanced at him, he winked at her.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you ordered the storm.”

“If I had that much power, I’d heal myself so I could get out of this awful bed. My back feels like I fell off a building.”

“Here, let’s see if we can do something about that.” She crossed to the other side of the room, where an empty bed sat awaiting another unfortunate hospital guest. She grabbed a pillow and stepped close to his side. “Carefully lean forward.”

He bit his lip to keep from wincing, but then his breath caught for a different reason. Dr. Brody grasped his shoulder as she tucked the pillow so that it stretched from his lower back to his shoulders. She stood close enough that he could smell her feminine scent, something flowery but not overwhelming.

“You smell nice.”

She stopped moving for a moment, and he thought he heard her breath catch, too. But when she eased him back against the pillow and took a step away, she smiled.

“Well, you’re used to smelling antiseptic and bleach,” she said, deflecting his compliment.

A loud crash of thunder that sounded as if it were right above his room caused her to jump. Right on the heels of the thunder, the sky opened up and released a deluge of rain. In the space of a couple of seconds, the helipad became obscured.

“Even Mother Nature thinks you should stay and keep me company,” he said.

“Since I didn’t bring my canoe to work, I think you’re right.”

He was actually sort of surprised when the doc pulled up a chair and propped her feet on the end of his bed.

“So, Wyatt Kelley, tell me something about yourself.”

“Not much to tell.”

“Everyone has a story.”

“And some of them aren’t all that interesting. What about you?”

“What do you want to know?”

“Your name.”

She smiled, and he spotted a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Nice try.”

“Okay, are you originally from Blue Falls?”

“Yep, born and raised on a ranch outside of town. My turn. Where are you from?”

“Laramie, Wyoming.”

“Long way from home.”

He shrugged, irked that even that slight motion sent a twinge through his injured side. “Not really. I mainly live on the road.”

“Traveling from rodeo to rodeo.”

He nodded.

“I don’t know how you guys do that, especially climbing onto bulls. My younger brother did rodeo for a while, but he was a roper. At least he wasn’t cheating death every time he got in the chute.”

“Most of the time I don’t even think about it.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I’ve been around rodeo all my life. It’s nothing out of the ordinary.”

Dr. Brody shook her head slowly. “Maybe all of you have just had one too many concussions to know better.”

“Maybe, but the crowds love it. We crazy bull riders help to bring people in to events like your town’s rodeos.”

“Yeah, but I end up patching you guys up. Do you all have contests to see who can get the most broken bones or stitches in a year?”

“No, but maybe I should start that bet. I’d have a good chance of winning.”

She snorted a little laugh that told him just what she thought of that idea.

Another loud boom of thunder set off a car alarm outside, and in the next moment the electricity went out. Dr. Brody immediately jumped to her feet and headed for the door, but before she got there the backup generators kicked in.

“Be back in a bit,” she said then disappeared.

He listened to the flurry of footsteps out in the hall, as the staff checked on patients to make sure all the necessary monitors and equipment were operating correctly. Wyatt glanced at the TV and realized the angriest part of the storm sat right smack on top of Blue Falls. After a storm like this, there would no doubt be necessary cleanup. If only he weren’t a prisoner of his injuries, maybe he could pick up a couple days of work. Lord knew his wallet could always use the extra cash.

That thought took him back to Dr. Brody’s comments about how he put his life in danger every time he settled himself atop a bull. But it was all he knew beyond basic manual labor. Maybe he could have done something else if he’d applied himself, but rodeo had gotten into his blood early and he’d not thought much beyond it. Good damn thing that bull two nights ago hadn’t done anything that was irreparable.

But what if it had? He’d be totally screwed.

Maybe he needed to think about a plan for when his rodeo days were over. Even the best of the best had to quit riding sometime. If he started chatting up some of his contacts now, maybe he could plant the seed that would grow into some sort of rodeo-related job after he quit riding. Maybe he’d even follow in his grandfather’s footsteps and become an announcer.

But that was down the road. All he needed to do now was heal enough to escape this damn bed and get back on the road. He was losing precious time, points and money, none of which he could afford.

Dr. Brody stayed gone so long that he’d begun to think maybe she’d headed home. He hoped not, and not just because he liked her company. The storm hadn’t slackened much. Even he would have pulled over in this mess and let it pass. He might ride bulls for a living, but that wasn’t as dangerous as driving when you couldn’t see the road in front of you.

Using the dim light above his bed, he started flipping through the fishing-and-hunting magazine. He honestly wasn’t much for hunting, but he liked the solitude and quiet of a morning of fishing. He had a lot of fond memories of fly-fishing with his grandfather on the Laramie and North Platte Rivers, outings he often wished he could relive just once.

Not wanting to travel down memory lane, he tossed the magazine back onto the table and looked at the TV screen. It appeared the storm was moving quickly. As if to confirm that observation, the rain subsided outside. He shifted his focus to the doorway and watched as people walked back and forth, but none of them were the person he wanted to see. He’d barely had that thought when she popped her head in the door.

“I’m going to see if I can float home now. Behave yourself.” She gestured toward the magazines. “And good luck figuring out the mysteries of the female mind.”

He snorted. “I’ll settle for figuring out your name. I’m confident I’ll get it right tomorrow. I’ve got two good guesses ready to go.”

“You’ll have to hang on to them. I’m off for the next couple of days.”

Wyatt’s heart sank. The days were long and boring enough without her brief visits. What the devil was he going to look forward to without them?

“Then I get six guesses when you come back.”

She smiled. “You’ll need them.”

Wyatt tried to occupy himself with some more channel surfing and reading the magazines. He even pulled out the crossword-puzzle book and worked a few. But his mind wandered and he started writing down all the C names he could think of down the margin of one of the puzzles.

When a nurse came in after the shift change that evening, he chatted her up a little before springing the question uppermost in his mind. “Hey, could you tell me what Dr. Brody’s first name is?”

“Sure,” she said with a smile that made her eyes twinkle. “It’s Chloe.” The nurse lowered her voice. “Don’t tell the other docs, but she’s our favorite.”

His, too.

He waited until the nurse, Sophie, left the room before he let his mind fix on the lovely doctor’s name. Chloe. It fit her. But with his curiosity satisfied, there was no way he was going to give her the correct answer. For however long he was stuck here, he needed something to look forward to. And if “guessing” the wrong names kept Chloe coming back, he’d toss every crazy name he could at her.

He smiled and felt better than he had since she’d left.

* * *

AFTER WORKING A bit more at the clinic, Chloe raced to her car through the still falling rain. Once inside, she wiped the water from her face and smoothed back her wet hair. She stared at the rivulets streaming down the windshield. She’d done it. When she’d awakened from the dream about Wyatt being her husband and kissing her as if it were the end of time, she’d doubted she’d be able to face him without blushing so brightly she’d be mistaken for a solar flare.

She’d considered avoiding him and asking Dr. Pierce to check on him instead. It wouldn’t be unusual for the surgeon to do a post-op visit. She’d even been on the verge of calling Dr. Pierce before she’d caught herself, chastised herself for being so silly. She rarely turned away from a challenge or obstacle, so she wasn’t about to let an admittedly very nice dream about a sexy cowboy send her running.

Though she’d been antsy when she arrived at his room, the feeling had quickly faded when she’d found him looking more bored than she could recall ever seeing anyone. She’d nearly laughed and felt sorry for him at the same time. During her one hospitalization for pneumonia, when she’d been thirteen, she’d been bored out of her mind, too, and she’d had family and friends visiting her and keeping her company.

Wyatt was a thousand miles from home, stuck in a town where he knew no one, unable to even get out of bed. That had to suck for a guy like him, always on the go. He was the poster child for someone who could use a friend right now. And it wasn’t the first time she’d spent extra time with a patient she felt needed it. The other doctors called her a softie. Chloe had decided long ago she could live with that label. To her, it was way better than becoming so detached that patients became a list of symptoms on case files instead of people with hopes and fears and who would rather be anywhere than in a hospital bed.

She started the car and headed home through the rain that was letting up even more. Her thoughts drifted back to when she was a child, when she would hang out at the hospital while her mom was at work there. Her mother had been a nursing assistant, but she’d been great with the patients, calming them, making them laugh, gifting them with a smiling face and a sympathetic ear.

Chloe’s memories settled on Beatrice Collins, a tiny slip of an old woman who’d been in the hospital back when Chloe had been about eight years old. Even though it’d been more than two decades since then, Chloe could still remember how very alone Beatrice had looked in her bed. The sad part was that she’d had family. They simply hadn’t come to see her. Chloe’s mom had done what she could to cheer up the older woman, but Beatrice had still died alone in the hospital. Chloe remembered her mother being upset about it, not so much that Beatrice had died but that she’d been so lonely in her final days. Chloe could still hear her mother saying, “I think she died of a broken heart as much as anything.”

She hadn’t thought of Beatrice in a long time, but the image wouldn’t leave her. Wyatt was out of the woods now and otherwise young and healthy even if he did wear the scars of his trade. Even so, she found herself pulling into a parking space in front of the Primrose Café. Before she could talk herself into driving on home like any sensible person, she got out of her car, walked inside and proceeded to order two meals to go. While she waited, she texted Garrett to let him know the Brody men were on their own tonight without telling them why.

By the time her order was ready, the rain had moved out. A sliver of the sun setting in the west had found a crack in the clouds and spread out its rays as if comforting the landscape after the storm. She took a deep breath of the rain-scented air before slipping back into her car and retracing the route to the hospital.

Luckily, the staff seemed to be busy elsewhere as she made her way down the hallway and into Wyatt’s room. “Did you miss me?”

He looked up from where he was reading the Sports Illustrated and scrunched his forehead in concentration. “Who are you again?”

She lifted an eyebrow at him. “Just for that, I’m taking this chicken-fried steak to someone who will appreciate it.” She spun toward the door.

“Wait. Don’t tease a guy like that.”

Chloe turned halfway toward him and lifted one of the takeout containers. “So you do want this?”

“I don’t care if you have a gas-station hot dog in there. It’s got to be better than the food here.”

She honestly felt sorry for the cafeteria workers. They no doubt worked hard and got no love. Still, facts were facts. Hospital food was, as a general rule, dreadful.

Chloe placed both meals on the rolling table, which Wyatt had positioned in front of him. “Scoot.” She motioned for him to move his legs so she could sit on the edge of his bed.

Wyatt opened his container and inhaled deeply. “Will you marry me?”

Chloe froze for a moment before forcing herself to laugh. She hoped he didn’t notice the jolt that went through her at his joking proposal. What was it with Wyatt and all these references to marriage? She seriously needed to get a grip. Just because she’d decided maybe it was time to start her own family before she was too old did not mean she had to latch on to the first guy who crossed her path. Sure, he was good-looking—really good-looking—but you couldn’t base a relationship on looks alone, even if that person didn’t live his life on the road cheating death most of the year.

Remembering that she hadn’t made any sort of response to his “proposal,” Chloe shook her head and opened her plastic utensils. “I think you might have that concussion after all.”

Thankfully, he didn’t pursue the topic, instead diving into his meal as if he hadn’t eaten in days. Maybe he hadn’t had a decent dinner in a long time. She’d been around enough rodeo cowboys, especially the ones who weren’t at the top of the rankings, to know they didn’t have enough cash to toss toward pricey food.

“So, what’s life like in Wyoming? I’ve never been there.”

He shrugged, and she saw the wince that motion caused.

“Probably not much different than here, just a lot colder in the winter.”

“How’d you get into bull riding?”

“Looked like fun.”

Chloe stopped eating and stared at him. “You’re going to make me work hard for every scrap of information, aren’t you?”

He met her gaze. “Frustrating, isn’t it?”

She knew he was talking about her first name. “Fair point.”

He took another bite of his gravy-covered chicken-fried steak and chased it with a drink of tea. She’d just taken a bite of her green beans when he spoke again.

“My grandpa was a rodeo announcer, so I was around rodeo from the time I was young. Can’t really say why I chose bull riding other than I was full of myself, thought I could do anything.”

“How long have you been riding? I can tell you’ve had several broken bones and probably more cuts and bruises than you can count.”

“Since I was thirteen in junior rodeo.”

“I still can’t believe they let kids ride bulls.”

“They’re not the rank ones you see in rodeos like the other night.”

“They’re still bulls with horns that can do damage.”

“Have to learn sometime. Is it any different than being a doctor? When did you know that’s what you wanted to do?”

She stared at him then sighed. “You need to stop making valid points.”

He laughed and winced again.

“Are your injuries causing you pain? We can look at the dosage of the painkillers again.”

Wyatt shook his head. “No, nothing I can’t handle. I want off those drugs as soon as possible.” The intensity of his words caused her to look at him more closely. Had he experienced a problem with painkillers in the past?

They ate in silence for a couple of minutes before she noticed Wyatt was watching her.

“What?”

“I was wondering why you decided to come back.”

This time, she was the one to shrug. “I’ve worked here long enough to know how incredibly long and boring the days can be when you’re stuck in the hospital. It’s as if time moves slower inside these walls.”

“That’s perceptive.”

She smiled then wiped the edge of her mouth with her napkin. “I like to think I’m a bit smarter than the average bear.”

“Guess you’d have to be to become a doctor.”

“It’s certainly not easy. There were times when I didn’t think I could cram one more medical fact in my head or it would explode or start oozing out my ears.”

“Nice image.”

She gave a little bow. “Thank you, thank you very much.”

“You make a habit of this, then?”

“I’ve been known to spend extra time with patients, watch a movie or two, hand out cupcakes from time to time. I’m probably too softhearted.”

“No, it’s great. More doctors should be that way.”

“There are lots of doctors who care or they wouldn’t be doing what they’re doing, especially in small communities like this.”

“But do they bring their patients dinner or sit and watch TV with them?”

“Well, no, but I understand the need for distance, especially if you want a long career. Lots of people we see don’t make it, and it carves a little part out of you if you’ve allowed yourself to get close to them.”

“But you do it anyway.”

Chloe twirled her fork in her mashed potatoes. “I can’t seem to help it.”

When Wyatt didn’t say anything in response, she looked up to find him staring at her as if he’d just stumbled upon the eighth wonder of the world. He seemed to realize he was staring and shifted his gaze back to his food.

“I’m surprised a doctor would bring me fried food.”

“You shouldn’t eat it every day, but sometimes you just need comfort food. Like when I get sick, I’m going to eat some chicken and dumplings, carbs be damned.”

When they both finished their meals, Chloe tossed the containers in the trash. She didn’t resume her seat on the edge of the bed, but she picked up the crossword book and flipped through the pages. Wyatt had already completed a dozen of the puzzles.

“Don’t look so surprised,” he said.

“What?”

He pointed toward the book. “You looked surprised I’d done any of those.”

“You just haven’t had the book that long.”

“And a rodeo cowboy should have a lot harder time with it?”

She set the book down on the table and crossed her arms. “That is not what I meant at all. For all I know, there are Mensa members who ride bucking horses and chess champions who do tie-down roping. I think lots of people have hidden talents.”

“What’s yours?” He appeared to be having a hard time hiding a mischievous grin.

“I’ll have you know that I’m the family Scrabble champ and have been since I was twelve.”

“Yeah? Maybe you should broaden your competition.”

“Is that a challenge, Mr. Kelley?”

“Only if you’re willing to accept it, Dr. Brody.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to do everything you’re told so you can get better and we can have a Scrabble duel before you leave.” She took a step back from the side of Wyatt’s bed. “And speaking of leaving, I really am going home this time.”

“If you’re bored on your days off, you know where I’ll be.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

When she stepped out of the room, she nearly collided with Sophie, who was wearing a too-happy smile. “Dr. Brody.”

Chloe did her best not to utter an “oh, crap” at how loaded those two words from Sophie’s mouth were. She remembered their earlier conversation about the matchmaking pool and wondered if she’d just opened herself up to a full-on assault by Verona Charles and her determination to make sure everyone in Blue Falls got paired up to live happily ever after.

Perhaps the bigger danger was how much a part of Chloe liked that idea.

Chapter Four

Chloe paused in slicing potatoes when she heard a text ping her phone. She activated the touch screen to see it was from Linnea. When she opened the message, it was a photo of the back of Linnea’s wedding gown. The confection of satin, lace and pearl buttons looked as if it were out of a fairy tale. But that was to be expected. Linnea owned one of the nicest bridal stores in Dallas, and she’d snagged herself a prince. Well, not literally a prince, but Michael Benson could certainly treat Linnea like a princess. He was a handsome financial executive who made a good deal of money, and had captured Linnea’s heart in record time.

A sigh escaped Chloe as she stared at the dress. She was thrilled for her best friend, but she wondered if she’d ever find someone who made her feel the way Michael made Linnea feel.

Her thoughts drifted to Wyatt Kelley, probably because he seemed to be the only guy on her radar at the moment. Maybe if Wyatt were local, she’d consider seeing if their conversations would lead to something else. She was normally pretty grounded and sensible, but for some reason she had to keep reminding herself that Wyatt would be gone in a matter of days. Besides, there was nothing between them other than some teasing and a few minutes spent together here and there.

“You okay, sis?”

Chloe closed the message on her phone before looking over her shoulder at Garrett. “Yeah. Why?”

“Because you’ve been staring at your phone for over a minute.”

Surely it hadn’t been that long. Had it? “Linnea just sent a text about her wedding dress.”

Garrett walked up to the kitchen sink, turned on the water and proceeded to wash his hands. “Hope she has unlimited texting the way she’s sending you photos almost faster than you can open them.”

“Well, that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

“Maybe, but I guarantee you Michael isn’t sending photos of his tux and shoes and whatever else to his best man.”

She bumped his shoulder with her own. “Just because guys are simplistic creatures doesn’t mean we have to be.”

Garrett turned around and leaned back against the sink. “So you’re telling me that when you get engaged, you’re going to send Linnea fifty photos a day of every little detail?”

There it was, that crazy reference to her getting married again. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll send them to you and Owen, too.”

Garrett snorted then headed toward the front door. “Need anything from town?”

“Nah, I’m good.” Well, except for the memory of Wyatt from her dream springing into her head.

When Garrett was gone, she went back to slicing potatoes. It was a good thing she had a couple of days off, ones where she could immerse herself in tasks around the ranch and let the strange pull toward Wyatt fade. Part of her felt bad that he’d likely be bored crazy without anyone to visit him, but it wasn’t her responsibility to keep him entertained. She’d already done more for him outside her professional duties than any other doctor likely would.

Still, as she went through the day cleaning the house, doing laundry and putting fresh hay in the horses’ stalls out in the barn, her thoughts kept straying back to Wyatt. She actually had to fight the urge to drive into town to see him. Visiting him on days she worked and was already at the clinic or hospital was one thing, but how could she explain visiting someone she barely knew on her day off? And if Sophie and the other nurses had their way, Chloe would be in the town Cupid’s matchmaking crosshairs. And just because Verona had gotten it right before with people whose other halves were supposed to just be passing through Blue Falls didn’t mean that would be the case with Chloe.

Once she put the potatoes in the oven, she went out to the front porch to feed Roscoe and Cletus, the family’s two basset hounds. As soon as she stepped through the doorway with the scoop of food in hand, the dogs hopped up from where they were dozing at the edge of the porch and trotted over to their matching bowls, their long ears swaying.

“Hey, fellas,” she said as she scratched first Roscoe between the ears then Cletus. She laughed when they ignored her, their minds focused on dinner. Letting them chomp away, she went to sit at the top of the porch steps.

She watched as a hawk soared high above the pasture beyond the barn. The sound of horse hooves drew her attention back to ground level. Owen and her dad rode toward the barn from the south, what they all referred to as the back of the ranch. They’d been out checking the fence line after hearing about another strike on a nearby ranch by pranksters who for some reason thought it was great fun to cut ranchers’ barbed-wire fences, allowing their cattle to escape. What they either didn’t realize, or didn’t care about, was that their vandalism was dangerous. A cow could get hurt or, worse, someone might hit them with a car and be injured or killed.

When her dad and brother dismounted, Owen took the reins of both horses and led them toward the barn. Her dad turned toward the house.

“Find any breaks in the fencing?” she asked when he came close enough to hear her.

“For now, everything is fine. Until they catch these bastards, we’re going to have to keep a close eye on the whole spread.”

“I saw Simon Teague in town yesterday,” she said, speaking of the local sheriff. “He said they had something similar happen up in Runnels County a few months ago. He’s been talking with the sheriff up there, but they never caught the people.”

Her father shook his head. “If they were stealing the cattle, it would almost make sense. But this is just pure meanness.”

“Simon said they’re doing all the extra patrols they can.”

“But there’s no way he can be everywhere at once, not with what few men he has at his disposal.”

“Maybe they’ll get lucky.”

Her dad grunted as if he weren’t holding out much hope for that. After a moment, he seemed to set aside worries of the fence cutters and looked at her. “Hear you’ve made a new friend in that bull rider laid up at the hospital.”

Well, hell. She guessed it was too much to hope that word wouldn’t get out about her spending extra time with Wyatt. She shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Sort of stinks for him to be stuck in a hospital bed with no family or friends to keep him company. Doesn’t even have a roommate at the moment.”

A sad little smile stretched her dad’s mouth. “You’re so like your mother, lending aid and comfort to anyone who needs it.”

“It’s my job.”

“It’s more than that, always has been since you were a little girl befriending every kid at school who didn’t have friends.” He paused for a moment. “I wish your mom could see what a good woman you’ve grown up to be.”

Chloe pressed her lips together and blinked a couple of times against sudden tears. One would think that after all this time, talking about her mom wouldn’t make her want to cry. But at times, it felt as if she’d just talked to her mom, been held in her arms, only the day before.

Perhaps sensing how close her emotions were to the surface, maybe even feeling choked up himself, her dad climbed the steps beside her, patting her on the shoulder as he passed by.

Roscoe padded over and flopped down beside her, resting his head on her leg as if he knew she needed some comfort. She ran her hand over his head and down his back. He looked up at her with those big brown eyes, and her heart went gooey soft with love. Roscoe might be a dog, but he and Cletus were a part of the family.

“I see your sad puppy eyes, you adorable rascal.”

“I don’t envy the man who ends up falling for you,” Owen said as he sauntered toward her. “He’ll never beat out ol’ Roscoe here.”

Chloe scratched between Roscoe’s ears again. He enjoyed that more than anything. “What’s not to love? He adores me, doesn’t talk back, isn’t demanding.”

Owen leaned against the edge of the porch, and she could tell he wanted to say something else.

“What is it?”

“Thought you should know that scuttlebutt around town is that you’re Verona Charles’s next project.”

She sighed and stared out toward the road. “That woman needs to find her own man and maybe she’d stop poking around in everyone else’s love lives.”

“You’ve got a love life?”

Chloe snarled at him. “Be careful. I’ll sic Roscoe on you.”

Owen laughed. “I’m shaking.”

“Go on, Roscoe. Get him. Use his arm as a chew toy.”

“I think you could wrap my arm in bacon and these two still wouldn’t rouse themselves to attack.”

As if to prove his point, Roscoe let out a doggy sigh and closed his eyes as if about to take a nap while using her leg as a pillow.

Chloe shook her head at the dog. “Well, I guess I have to look elsewhere for my knight in shining armor.”

“From what I hear, you already have. Maybe silver spurs instead of shining armor.”

Chloe narrowed her eyes at her little brother. “Owen Brody, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop believing town gossip.”

Owen whistled. “Hit a nerve, did I?”

“Owen,” she said, warning in her voice.

He held up his hands. “Okay, okay. I’m backing off.”

Chloe continued to sit outside after her brother followed their father inside. If people were already pairing up her and Wyatt based on her just trying to be friendly, how long before Wyatt got wind of it? And when he did, how was she supposed to face him without letting it show that she didn’t mind as much as she should?

* * *

WYATT WATCHED THE minutes tick by on the clock, wondering when Chloe would be by to do her hospital rounds. If the other riders could see him now, laid up like an invalid and with nothing to look forward to beyond a visit from a doctor, no doubt they’d think him pathetic. Even the single guys on the circuit had someone—a girlfriend, brother, sister, best friend...parents. Most of the time, his lack of family didn’t bother him. It was just the way things were. He had friends, but they were out on the circuit somewhere, heading to the next event and another batch of points.

He heard Chloe’s voice from somewhere nearby, and his pulse jumped. Chances were if he’d met her in any other situation, he wouldn’t be so fixated on her. Yes, she was pretty, but it wasn’t as if she were the first pretty woman he’d ever seen. She was more like a lifeline to sanity than anything else, one he’d been denied the past two days.

Forty-eight hours of mind-destroying boredom. He’d read every one of the magazines she’d brought him cover to cover, even the Cosmopolitan, a fact he would never admit to anyone. That was boredom. In the wee hours when he couldn’t sleep anymore, he’d finished the last puzzle in the crossword book, and he’d only had to cheat a handful of times.

But if Chloe was just a way to keep from being bored, why did he get more excited to see her than anyone else who traipsed into his room? Sure, he talked to everyone from the nurses to the gal who mopped the floors. But Chloe, for some reason, was different. Maybe it was nothing more than hers was the first face he’d seen when he’d awakened in the emergency room.

He really needed to stop being so damn philosophical.

“So, I hear you’ve been contrary the past couple of days,” Chloe said as she breezed into his room with a scolding expression on her face.

“I deny that accusation.”

“So you haven’t been pestering the nurses to let you get up and saunter around the hospital?”

“I thought doctors liked to get patients up and out of bed as soon as possible.”

“As soon as possible. We’d prefer not to risk undoing the work we’ve done. Trust me, you don’t want to reinjure yourself. I’m sure it hurt enough the first time around.”

“Fine,” he said, unable to hide his frustration. “Then the least you can do is to play that game of Scrabble with me.” He gestured toward the board on the rolling table that belonged to the still-empty second bed, where he’d already played the word wander for twenty points.

“Where did that come from?”

“Your friend Sophie.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Of course it did.”

What was that about? “Am I missing something?”

She waved away his question and walked toward the Scrabble board. “Well, that seems appropriate.”

“What does?”

She pointed toward the tiles. “Wander. Sort of describes your life, doesn’t it?”

He knew she didn’t mean anything negative by it, but for some reason he suddenly felt as if his life didn’t have a lot of meaning. That was odd since he enjoyed what he did. Wasn’t that all anyone could ask for from a career, to enjoy it?

Chloe didn’t wait for an answer, but instead selected her tiles from the bag, quickly rearranged them then played her word. She rolled the table toward him so he could see.

He barked a laugh, one that hurt a little less than it had before. “Ornery?”

“I wonder why that word came to mind.”

He looked up at her and was struck anew by how pretty she was with those bright eyes, soft-looking skin and a smile always at the ready even when she was being serious.

“Can you honestly tell me you wouldn’t be doing the same thing if our roles were reversed? You don’t strike me as a woman who does idle very well.”

She pressed her lips together for a moment. “Who knew cowboys were such good judges of character?”

“Have to be able to peg a bull’s attitude.”

“You’re comparing me to a bull?”

He thought he’d made a huge tactical error until the edge of her mouth twitched. “Bullheaded, maybe.”

She feigned offense with a dramatic gasp. “Pot, meet kettle.”

He laughed again, and so did she.

“Okay, we’ll get you on your feet in a few minutes, see how it goes.”

At that news, he threw back the covers before she could change her mind. “Better avert your eyes, Doc.”

“Oh, honey, you’re not going to flash anything I haven’t seen here a million times.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, tempted to prove her wrong. The idea of making her blush sounded like the most fun he’d had in days.

“Hospital gowns aren’t the most modest of attire,” she said. “We’ll get you a second one to cover the back so you’re not flashing everyone your bum. Mrs. Carter down the hall might not be able to handle it. She’s ninety if she’s a day and a former Sunday school teacher to boot.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.