Читать книгу A Wife For Dr. Sam - Phyllis Halldorson, Phyllis Halldorson - Страница 7

The road sign on the outskirts of Grangeville, Idaho, read: Copper Canyon, 10 Miles, and Kirsten Reinhold’s excitement mounted. According to the directions Coralie had sent, the Buckley family farm was five miles on the other side of the small town of Copper Canyon so that meant she would arrive at her destination in about twenty minutes.

She pressed her foot harder on the gas pedal. This was the day she’d looked forward to for more than two months. She would see her best friend, Coralie Dixon, and finally meet Coralie’s new husband, Jim Buckley.

A loud roar of static interrupted the country-music program on the car radio and startled Kirsten. There were no other cars on the road, and she slowed down to look at the dashboard for the off knob when a sudden impact jolted her forward and sent her car skidding across to the opposite side of the road. She was too surprised and shaken to do anything but clench the steering wheel and hope the car would stop before going into the ditch.

It did, just barely, but her mind had gone blank and her fingers seemed to be frozen around the steering wheel. Badly shaken, she rested her forehead against the rim and tried to pull herself together. That was why she didn’t see the man jump out of the automobile she’d hit to rush across the empty road and open her door.

“Are you hurt, miss?” he asked anxiously.

Slowly she straightened up and looked at him. He was fairly young, mid-thirties, with short, curly brown hair and troubled brown eyes flecked with green. “N-no, I don’t think so. What…what happened?”

The concern in his expression turned to a frown of annoyance. “You ran a four-way stop and smashed into my brand-new car,” he grumbled. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?”

She blinked in confusion and looked beyond him to see a white BMW crosswise in the middle of the highway, with a dent in the fender on the passenger side. “But there were no other cars around, and I just glanced down to turn off the radio.”

“Then you didn’t look closely enough,” he scolded. “I was driving on the side road. I saw you coming, but I expected you to stop at the sign.” His anger was heating up.

“I didn’t see the sign,” she wailed. “I had no idea—”

“If you don’t start paying more attention to your driving instead of fiddling with the damn radio, you’re going to have a real smashup one of these days.” His tone was gruff. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said, although she knew that wasn’t altogether true. She wasn’t injured, but she was shaking so badly that she doubted if she could stand.

Then a frightening thought occurred to her. She carried only the minimum amount of car insurance required by law in California where she lived. She doubted it would fully cover any large bills. “How about you? Were you hurt?” she asked, growing concerned.

“No,” he snapped. “But if you’d been going just a little faster we both could have been. Step out of the car, please.”

“Out of the car? But why?” She didn’t really want to try to stand up yet. She was afraid her quaking knees wouldn’t hold her.

“Because I need to make sure you have enough wits about you to drive without plowing into any more vehicles,” he said angrily.

Kirsten knew she was at fault, but he didn’t need to be so cranky. “Of course I’m okay to drive,” she insisted. “We didn’t collide very hard.”

To prove her point she turned in her seat and put her feet on the ground, then pulled herself up by hanging on to the open door. Her legs were rubbery and she felt a little light-headed, but she wasn’t about to admit it. The quicker she could get rid of this man and be on her way, the better. So far she hadn’t seen any other cars go by.

He looked at his watch, muttered something impatiently, then stepped back several feet along the road and called to her. “Walk over here to me.”

This man was getting to be a real pain, she thought. “I told you, I’m just fine. You don’t need to worry about me,” she called huffily.

“Maybe so,” he answered, “but please do as I say. I have important appointments to keep.”

There was a no-nonsense quality to his tone that indicated he was used to having his orders obeyed, and she was sure it would just be a waste of time to argue.

Taking a deep breath she put one foot in front of the other, then let loose of the door and started toward him. The road surface was rough and her dizziness increased, but she continued to concentrate on not stumbling.

She was almost there when she stepped into a pothole and was thrown off balance. Gasping, she threw out her arms as the man caught her and held her close against him. Her flailing arms circled his neck and she buried her face in his shoulder and clung.

He was strong and muscular, and there was a faint woodsy aroma about him. She wasn’t sure if it was shaving lotion or just the natural scent of the mountain forest.

She was still trembling, but didn’t know if it was shock from the collision or pleasure aroused by the protectiveness of his embrace.

But it wasn’t an embrace. He was simply holding her up to keep her from falling flat on her face. What on earth was the matter with her anyway? It wasn’t as though she’d never been held by a man before.

He didn’t seem in any hurry to let her go, but that was probably because he wasn’t sure what to do with her.

Reluctantly, she raised her head, unwound her arms and pushed gently away from him. Her dizziness had receded, but still the man kept one arm around her waist as they walked back to her car.

“I…I just stumbled,” she assured him. “I really am okay, but thanks for your concern. By the way, shouldn’t we exchange names and addresses? My insurance will pay for the damages to your BMW.”

As soon as she uttered the words she knew she’d spoken unwisely. She shouldn’t have admitted to being at fault until she talked to her insurer.

They reached her four-year-old navy blue Mustang, and he withdrew his arm from around her and reached in his inside coat pocket. “I’m in a hurry,” he said as he withdrew a business card and handed it to her. “If you’ll just write down your name, address and the name of your insurance company I’ll get back to you later. You do live around here, don’t you?”

She unzipped her purse and tossed his card inside, then rummaged around until she found a note tablet and pencil. “No, I don’t,” she answered, “but I’m visiting here for the next few weeks. I’ll give you that address, too.”

She scribbled the information on a sheet of the tablet, tore it off and folded it, then handed it to him. He shoved it in his pocket then helped her into the car and shut the door. “Start the engine,” he said.

She turned the key and the motor purred.

“Looks like it will run okay,” he observed. “You go on ahead. I’ll stay behind you until we get to Copper Canyon to make sure it doesn’t stall.” He backed away from the vehicle. “I’ll be in touch, and for God’s sake watch where you’re going.”

True to his word he followed behind her until they came to the pretty little village, almost hidden from the road by huge old evergreen and shade trees. Then he turned off on one of the side streets while she kept going on the main artery through the town and beyond.

A few miles later she saw the rural mailbox labeled Buckley and turned onto the long driveway that led to the white two-story farmhouse surrounded by trees. There were several outbuildings, including a big red barn. Everything looked just as Coralie had described it in her letters and phone calls.

Kirsten parked beside the house and got out, but as she came around the back of the car she heard a screen door open and close and Coralie came bouncing down the front steps, a welcome smile on her face and her arms out-stretched. The two friends hugged, then leaned back to look at each other.

Kirsten had never seen Coralie look so happy. She positively glowed, and there was no need to ask if her marriage was all she’d expected it to be. It obviously was. Her straight blond hair was still shoulder length and parted in the middle, but now she had it tied back with a scarf, and her deep blue eyes sparkled with happiness.

“You’re positively radiant,” Kirsten told her. “I guess your pen-pal farmer turned out to be Prince Charming in disguise.”

Coralie laughed with delight. “You better believe it,” she agreed. “Just wait till you meet him. I’ve got the perfect man for you, too.”

“Oh, no,” Kirsten said with a grin. “If you’re talking about your husband’s best friend, Dr. Sam, whom you’ve written so much about, you can forget it. I’m not looking to be fixed up with a groom, either homegrown or mail-order. I’m content to bask in your happiness.”

“That’s nonsense,” Coralie said, “and you know it. Happiness isn’t contagious, it can’t be caught. You have to experience your own, and as I’ve told you, Sam Lawford is an ideal candidate for a husband. He’s almost as handsome as my Jim, plus since he’s one of only two physicians in town his financial future is assured. Even more important, he’s one of the nicest, most considerate men I’ve ever met. Next to Jim, of course.”

Kirsten opened her mouth to protest, but Coralie’s chatter didn’t skip a beat. “Besides, everything’s all set up. I’ve invited him for supper tonight so you two can meet. You’ve only got a month to get to know each other,” she added. “There’s no time to waste.”

Kirsten could see that she might as well accept the inevitable. After all, Coralie was her hostess, so she couldn’t very well be rude and refuse to go along with her plans.

“All right,” she said, striving for a light tone. “But I work with physicians all the time. Couldn’t you have fixed me up with someone different? Maybe a plumber or a banker?”

They both laughed, but Kirsten quickly sobered. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but please, don’t push this matchmaking bit If there’s a special man out there for me I’ll find him without anyone’s help.”

Coralie apparently caught the wariness in Kirsten’s voice, and her radiance faded a bit as her gaze roamed more inquiringly over her friend. “You’ve lost weight,” she observed with a frown. “And you didn’t have any to lose. You look pale, Kirsten, and tired. I can see why your doctor wouldn’t let you go back to work for another month. Do you still have that last spot of pneumonia on your lung?”

Kirsten grimaced. She didn’t like being reminded that she’d been seriously ill during the past two months. “You never forget that you’re a nurse, do you?” she grumbled affectionately. “Well, I’m a nurse, too, so please accept the fact I know what I’m talking about when I tell you the virus has been wiped out, the pneumonia is all cleared up and the asthma attacks are under control. The only reason I can’t return to work at the hospital right now is because my immune system has been weakened and the doctor doesn’t want me exposed to all the germs that float around a medical facility.”

“Yeah, well…” Coralie sounded unconvinced. “I’m going to see to it that you get plenty of rest and healthy meals during the month you’ll be here. Right now, though, come meet my two beautiful stepdaughters.”

Inside the house was just as old-fashioned and homey as it was on the outside. The rooms were large, the ceilings high and the furniture mostly antiques that had been in the family for generations. The air was redolent with the aroma of roasting beef, and Kirsten remembered that they served dinner at midday on the farm.

Coralie proudly introduced her stepdaughters. Gloria was fifteen, tall with dark brown hair and brown eyes, and Amber, at thirteen, was short with blond hair and blue eyes. It wasn’t easy to tell who were the daughters and who was the stepmother. It was on the tip of Kirsten’s tongue to tease them about it, but she stopped herself just in time when she remembered that the almost thirteen-year age difference between Coralie and her husband was a sore subject with Jim.

According to Coralie he’d fought against falling in love with her because of it, and even though they were now married he was still embarrassed when someone mistook his new wife for one of his daughters.

Instead, she told the girls how pleased she was to meet them, and how much she was looking forward to her visit.

“I know you’re eager to meet Jim,” Coralie told Kirsten, “but he’s out working in the fields. He’ll be home in about an hour for dinner, and I’ve got the pot roast, potatoes and carrots cooking in a roaster in the oven. Gloria and Amber will do the last-minute things, so why don’t we go over to Jim’s dad’s house and get you settled in?”

“I’d love to,” Kirsten said enthusiastically. “Are you sure your father-in-law doesn’t mind me staying there?”

Coralie’s eyebrows rose. “Buck? Of course not. He’s happy to have somebody occupying it while he’s gone. The only thing he’s upset about is that he probably won’t be back from his old army buddies’ reunion in Missouri in time to meet you.”

Coralie had a last-minute discussion about dinner preparations with the girls, then joined Kirsten as they left the house and walked out to the car. It was only then that Coralie noticed the dents in the front fender and grille, which had been partially hidden by the shrubbery along the driveway.

“Kirsten, what happened to your car?” she asked. “Those dents look new.”

“They are,” Kirsten admitted. “I had a fender bender with another car between here and Grangeville.” She went ahead to explain what had happened. “I can’t deny it was my fault,” she concluded, “and the man I hit was really mad. I just hope my insurance will cover all the damage.”

Coralie looked at her askance. “You did exchange names, phone numbers and insurance companies, didn’t you? Who was he? Maybe Jim knows him.”

“Oh, yeah, we did all that,” Kirsten assured her. “He gave me a business card, but I tossed it in my purse without reading it. I’ll show it to you later.”

The two women took Kirsten’s car and drove approximately a city block through wheat fields to a beige cottage neatly trimmed in brown, which was set in the middle of a grove of huge, old shade trees. It was far enough away from the big house for privacy, but close enough to ensure against loneliness.

The cottage was considerably newer than the house and consisted of a living room, kitchen, two bedrooms and a bath. All the rooms were small, but it was ideal for one or two people. Kirsten and Coralie chatted happily as they unpacked Kirsten’s suitcases and put her clothes away.

“So, how are things back in Eureka?” Coralie asked as she put a stack of pastel-colored silk panties in a drawer.

“Well, we haven’t had any more of those California earthquakes that drove you away,” Kirsten answered.

Coralie shivered. “Thank God for that. After losing everything for the third time in six years in that last one, I just couldn’t stay in California any longer.”

“So you answered an advertisement in a magazine for a mail-order wife and wound up marrying the handsome hunk who placed the ad and living on a farm in Idaho,” Kirsten teased.

Coralie laughed. “It wasn’t as simple as that, as you very well know, but if I hadn’t run away from earthquakes I would never have met the man who turned out to be the love of my life.” She sobered. “And Jim is that, Kirsten. I firmly believe we were destined to be together.”

Now it was Kirsten who shivered. Was it possible that some couples were bound together by destiny?

Dr. Sam Lawford turned off the shower and reached for a towel, which he rubbed briskly over his trim, wet body, then knotted around his waist. As usual he was running late. He’d hoped to have time to unwind with a leisurely bath and a long, cool drink to revitalize his flagging energy. Instead, Thad Tucker’s youngest boy had stumbled while running with a wicked-looking knife in his hand, which his parents didn’t know he had, and Sam had spent the hour he’d saved for relaxation cleaning out the cut in the kid’s arm and putting five stitches in it.

Now he had just ten minutes to dress and drive out to the Buckley farm, if he was to arrive at the appointed time of six o’clock. Obviously that was impossible. He slapped shaving lotion on his newly shaved face, and rummaged in the dresser drawer for clean underwear.

What he really wanted to do was stay home, fix himself a thick turkey sandwich and stretch out with the new detective novel he’d received from the book club the week before. The last thing he wanted was to go to Jim and Coralie’s for supper. He loved Jim like a brother, and Coralie was a real sweetheart when she wasn’t singing the praises of her best friend, Kirsten something-or-other, whom he was supposed to meet for the first time tonight.

Sam hated blind dates, and it annoyed him no end when the wives of his friends insisted on playing matchmaker. He was perfectly capable of finding his own companions, and he had no intention of getting married.

He selected a pair of brown slacks and a short-sleeved green plaid shirt to wear. While summers in the mountains of Idaho were fairly mild, it was still too warm to be comfortable in a tie and sport coat. He wasn’t out to impress Ms. Whatever-her-name-was.

When he’d finished dressing, he ventured outside and was again jolted by the sight of the crumpled fender on his BMW. He’d only had it for a week, and in that time he’d protected and sheltered it like a baby. Then, in the blink of an eyelid, that sexy young airhead who didn’t have sense enough to keep her eyes on the road had run a stop sign and crumpled one side of its shiny white magnificence.

His rage ignited again. She had no business driving a car. She was a menace on the road. Who had issued her a driver’s license in the first place?

It was probably a man. All she would have to do was pout and bat her long, thick eyelashes at a man, and he would give her anything she wanted. Sam figured he should know. She’d even had him going there for a while.

When she’d first looked up at him with those wide doelike eyes, he’d felt a rush of tenderness that took his breath away. She’d looked so shocked and vulnerable, and for a moment he’d had an urge to take her in his arms and assure her that she was innocent of any wrongdoing. That he would take care of everything, if she would just smile at him.

He snorted with self-disgust as he backed the battered car out of the driveway. He’d been so swamped with patients all day that he hadn’t even had time to take it to the garage. Fortunately, the damage was only to the body. The V-12 engine still purred like a kitten.

As he drove down the tree-lined streets on his way out of town, his unruly mind returned to the accident and the woman responsible. Her driving skills left a lot to be desired, but her looks sure didn’t. Even though he’d been mad as hell at her at the time, he couldn’t help but notice her.

She was a real beauty. Quite tall, approximately five-seven to his five-eleven, and she’d fit into his embrace as if she’d been custom-made for him.

A wave of warmth washed over him and he groaned and shifted his thoughts back to the present. Obviously it had been too long since he’d had a date! He’d been so busy that he barely had time for sleep, let alone a social life.

But why was he attracted to this woman he didn’t even know?

Because he’d made the mistake of catching her when she stumbled, that was why. She’d snuggled into his arms, so soft, so warm and inviting, and she’d smelled faintly of lilacs, his favorite floral scent. He’d held her close and had a hard time letting her go when she pulled away from him.

Then another thought caught him off balance. Could that fall have been deliberate? Had she been using her femininity to distract him and make him feel protective?

Sure she could have. Not only could have, but probably did. She’d no doubt been bewitching males all her life, to get what she wanted.

Well, he’d learned his lesson early on, and he wasn’t going to be caught in that particular hell again. He had good reason to distrust women.

A few minutes later he turned off the two-lane country road onto the Buckleys’ driveway. There was the usual assortment of automobiles, trucks and farm machinery scattered around the barnyard, and he paid little attention as he stopped near the front of the house.

Before he got to the top of the steps the screen door was flung open and Coralie walked out grinning happily. “Well, if it isn’t the late Dr. Sam,” she said gaily. “What was it this time? Mandy Hoover’s overdue baby, or old Mr. Proctor’s rheumatism?”

“Neither one, smarty,” he said as he gave her a friendly hug. “It was the Tuckers’ youngest son. He fell while running with a knife, and I had to put sutures in his arm. How long before we eat? I’m starved.”

Coralie laughed and disengaged herself as she turned toward the door. “I’m not going to feed you until I’ve introduced you to my best friend in all the world,” she said as she walked into the house with Sam right behind her.

The sun was still bright, and it took him a few seconds to adjust his eyes to the darker living room. As he blinked, Coralie indicated a woman who had just risen from the couch and was standing a couple of feet away.

“Sam, I want you to meet my friend, Kirsten Reinhold,” she said, and there was excitement in her tone. “Kirsten, this is Sam Lawford, the doctor I’ve told you so much about.”

One final blink cleared Sam’s vision, and he saw himself gazing into those same doelike brown eyes that had been haunting him since this morning.

Kirsten Reinhold was the airhead who had trashed his brand-new car!