Читать книгу The Doctor's Calling - Stella Bagwell - Страница 10

Even though Maccoy was doing his best to taper off the appointments for the last remaining days of the clinic, it was still late the next evening before Laurel and Russ finished with the last patient and locked up the clinic.

By the time the two of them climbed into Russ’s truck to make the trip to the Chaparral, the winter sun was long gone and darkness had urged the streetlights to flicker on. The weather had made a turn for the worst, with a sheet of snowflakes flying in front of the headlights’ beams.

Russ said, “This doesn’t look like the best weather to make the trip, but waiting for it to get better might take days.” He glanced across the console separating their seats to see that Laurel was bundled in a heavy green sweater with a bright plaid scarf wrapped around her neck. A thick parka lay on her lap, and he realized that during all the time that she’d worked for him, whether they’d had to deal with rain or snow, cold or heat, she always seemed to be prepared and never complained.

“Your truck is four-wheel drive. We’ve made a lot rougher trips in much worse weather,” she remarked. “Remember when old man Nobles called us out to his place to help his mare foal? There must have been two feet of snow on the ground then.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I think we hit the ditch about three or four times before we ever got there.”

A fond smile touched her face. “Yes, but we got there in time and the mare delivered a beautiful little filly. It had a tiny white snip on its nose and one white sock.”

“We’ve delivered hundreds of foals around here. How do you remember that one so well?”

“Because that night I was so afraid we weren’t going to get there in time for you to turn the foal. I guess the fear made everything about that night stick in my mind.”

Surprised by her admission, he glanced at her. In all of their emergency encounters, she’d never panicked or shown a hint of fear. To hear her admit to being afraid back then made him wonder what other sort of emotions she might be masking now. “You never let on that you were afraid,” he said.

“I wouldn’t let myself. I wanted to be the best help I could be. Not a weepy, hand-wringing female.”

No, he thought, even when death was looming, Laurel was strong and dependable, like a steadying handhold on a slippery slope. Funny, but she was the exact opposite of his ex-wife, who’d fallen to pieces over a simple cut on her finger.

But then, Brooke was an entirely different person from Laurel. She was different from him, too. And now, looking back on his courtship and marriage, he wondered what had drawn him to the woman in the first place. Oh, she’d been pretty, all right. Her bobbed brown hair had always been fixed and smooth, her clothes tailored and perfect, her makeup subtle and classic. She wasn’t from a rich, socially active family, but compared to his, her background had certainly been a privileged one. Still, the fact that he’d grown up without a family or wealth hadn’t seemed to bother her. She’d always had the motto that the future was what counted, not the past. And she’d had a big future planned for the both of them. Far too big to suit him.

“I don’t think you could be the weepy, hand-wringing type if you tried,” he said wryly.

Laurel looked away from him and out the passenger window. The snowfall was growing heavier, but she wasn’t really seeing the dancing white flakes. She was seeing Lainey lying in a hospital bed, too weak to lift an arm. Laurel had openly wept at the sight of her sister and had desperately begged the doctors to do something to save her. Yet none of her emotional pleas had helped. Lainey had slipped away. And after her twin’s death, a part of Laurel had frozen. She’d shut most of her feelings away, just as a way to survive, and down through the years she’d kept them locked behind a cautious heart. There had been times she’d been accused of being cold and distant. Especially by the guys she’d tried to date in the past. Laurel had found it too difficult to confide in them or explain why she’d changed from the sweet, loving girl she’d first started out to be. But in the end, that hadn’t mattered. She’d not really wanted to marry any of them anyway.

She said to Russ, “I learned a long time ago that a girl with tears in her eyes can’t see straight.”

When he didn’t make any sort of reply, she turned her head to see he was studying her with a curious eye.

“What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

“Nothing. Sometimes I just can’t figure you out.”

“You shouldn’t try,” she told him flatly. “You might hurt yourself.”

He grunted with dry amusement, then changed the subject completely. “Let’s stop by Burger Barn on the way out of town and pick up some sandwiches. We can eat them on the way to the ranch. Is that okay with you?” “Sure. I’m starved.”

To reach the Chaparral Ranch one had to travel west of Ruidoso, then turn north off the highway and travel several more miles on a gravel-and-dirt road to finally reach the property. Over the years, Laurel had made the trip many times to visit Alexa and her family. But once the two women had grown into adults, life had taken them in different directions and Laurel’s visits to the ranch had occurred less and less often.

“Have you been out this way lately?” Russ asked as he carefully negotiated the truck around a pile of loose gravel.

They had finished eating their fast-food meal before he’d ever turned off the main highway. Which was a good thing, because recent rains had washed rough spots all over the road, making the drive worse than shaky.

His question made her wonder if he’d been reading her mind. “I’ve not visited the Chaparral since Alexa had her first child. She was living here at the time.”

“Yeah. I remember. Her husband is a Texas Ranger. He’d come to the ranch to figure out who was doing all that cattle rustling.”

Laurel nodded. “It was a scary time. The rustlers kidnapped Alexa, and if it hadn’t been for Jonas they might have killed her.”

“But they didn’t. And all the criminals were caught and are now behind bars. So there isn’t any need for you to worry that something like that might happen again.”

“I’m not worried,” she reasoned. “That thought never crossed my mind.”

“Well, the house where you’ll be living is somewhat secluded and a fair distance from the ranch yard.”

“What about your house? Is it very far from mine?” she couldn’t help but ask.

He thought for a moment. “Maybe a quarter mile. Is that enough distance between us?” he joked.

She laughed, but inside she told herself that she was relieved. At least she wouldn’t be tempted to look out her window at night and wonder if he was home or what he was doing.

“I’m sure you’ll be a good ‘distant’ neighbor,” she told him, then cast him a curious glance. “Do you think we’ll stay very busy? I understand the Chaparral runs a few thousand head of cattle and a large remuda of horses, but I figure the ranch hands take good care of all the livestock. I can’t imagine too many problems cropping up.”

“You know how it is with large animals. They seemed to find a way to get themselves injured. And then we’ll be overseeing all the calving, foaling, vaccinating, dehorning and other routine medical programs throughout the seasons. I don’t think you’ll be spending a lot of time lying around on the couch peeling grapes,” he told her, then cast a glance her way. “Are you feeling any better about this move?”

Moving to the Chaparral had never been the main cause of Laurel’s concern. It was the hopelessness of following him, a man that would never be anything more to her than just a boss. But she could hardly tell him that. She intended for him never to know exactly what he’d come to mean to her and her life. It would ruin their working relationship and ultimately ruin her job. And she’d decided that having that much with Russ was better than having nothing with him at all.

She kept her gaze on the falling snow. “I’m not concerned now.”

“What do you mean, ‘now’?”

She rubbed her palms down the denim covering her thighs. “I was concerned at first, but I’m not now. That’s what I mean.”

“That makes a lot of sense.”

She didn’t know what was bringing about all this talking. Normally, Russ didn’t have much to say about anything. He was usually preoccupied with his work and hardly gave her a second notice, unless she’d done something wrong, and then he would harp forever, like a dog unwilling to part with a bone. But ever since he’d told her about moving to the Chaparral, he’d made an abrupt change and was almost acting human, making Laurel wonder if he’d met a woman. What else could be softening his attitude? Maybe this other woman lived on the ranch and that’s why he’d chosen to move there? That idea unsettled Laurel greatly. But she wasn’t going to let herself dwell on the notion. It would be futile.

She said, “When you told me about the house—that changed everything. I haven’t lived in a house since—well, since I was a teenager at home, before I left for college in Las Cruces.”

From a view of his profile, she thought she saw a faint smile curve his lips and the sight surprised her. These past few days, she’d seen the man smile more than she’d ever seen him smile in her life. Yes, this change in him had to be prompted by a woman, she thought dully. She couldn’t imagine him taking some sort of “nice” pill.

“Well, we’re almost to the ranch, so you’re just about to see this house that changed everything,” he said.

About a mile before they reached the main ranch yard, Russ turned the truck onto a side road that wound upward into a thick forest full of tall pines, aspen and birch.

“I’ve never been on this road. Why would a house be up here?” she wanted to know.

“You’ll see” was all he said.

The forest grew darker and the road steeper, until it finally turned into an S-shaped switchback. Then suddenly the forest opened up and a clearing stretched as far as Laurel could see through the falling snow.

“There’s no house up here,” she argued. “I think you’re going to drive us off a cliff, that’s what.”

“You have more faith in me than that, don’t you?”

Did she? The answer to that ought to be obvious. She was uprooting her home to follow him. “I did, but it’s getting a little shaky,” she joked.

She’d hardly gotten the remark out when a network of wooden corrals appeared, and next to them was a small barn, its red paint weathered to a pale rust color.

“Well, look at this,” she murmured with surprise.

“Quint tells me they do a lot of branding and other things here. This meadow is at the bottom of a natural draw. When the cowboys drive the cattle down from the mountains, this is where the trail ends.”

“Oh, I’ll bet things get a little Western around here whenever roundup takes place. That might be fun.”

He shot her a dry look. “Fun? Since when have you ever thought about having fun?”

For a moment his question took her aback. Did she really come off as that stuffy, even to a man who did little more than work eighty hours a week? She didn’t like to think so, but maybe the idea of her having fun was as strange to him as the notion of Russ being happy was to her.

Quickly, she unsnapped her seat belt and grabbed up her coat. As she jammed her arms into the sleeves, she said, “I’ve been known to laugh—once in a blue moon.”

“The next time we have a blue moon, I’ll remind you of that,” he said.

Beyond the sweep of the headlights, a house suddenly appeared and Laurel scooted excitedly to the edge of the seat.

“Russ! It’s adorable! Hurry and let me out. Is the door unlocked?”

Not waiting for his reply, she jumped out of the truck before he could get it completely parked. She ran through the snow, past a rail fence and up a walkway made of large stepping stones. When she reached the porch, she turned around to see that Russ was following, only at a much slower pace.

“Look, Russ! It has a porch with cedar posts holding up the roof. And the floor is made of planked wood, too.”

He climbed the steps to join her. “So you like that, huh?”

“Are you kidding? No concrete or metal. This is all so rustic and pretty!” She turned and tried the door and was surprised to find it unlocked. “Guess they don’t worry about people breaking in around here.”

“I told Quint we’d be coming this evening. I’m sure he had someone unlock the houses for us. He said the keys would be left inside.”

She pushed the door wide and reached inside to search for a light switch. As soon as it flickered on, she practically leaped over the threshold and into a small entryway.

At the end of it, she stepped into a nice-size living room with a picture window that over looked the meadow and a native-rock fireplace built into one corner.

“Oh, my, a fireplace! And the room is full of furniture,” she stated the obvious. “Real leather furniture! Do you think it’s supposed to be here?”

Russ came to stand next to her and when she glanced up at his face, she was surprised to see that he was looking at her instead of the room. The look in his eyes was softer than she’d ever seen, sort of indulgent and kind, and the whole idea shook her even more than the excitement of seeing the house where she’d soon be living.

“Quint told me that this one was already furnished. But he says if there’s something you want to change or get rid of, just let him know.”

Laurel slowly shook her head in disbelief. “I never expected anything like this. I don’t know what to think or say.”

“Why don’t we look at the rest of the rooms and see if you like them,” he suggested, “before you make any decisions about the furniture.”

“All right.”

She turned to leave the room and was surprised when he took hold of her elbow. Sometimes during their work, they rubbed shoulders or their hands would connect. Touching him was not anything new. But having him deliberately take her arm was something totally out of the ordinary.

Don’t let yourself make a big issue of it, Laurel. Tonight is different. You’re both experiencing something new. He’s simply being a polite escort. That’s all.

The little voice inside Laurel’s head should have helped her to focus on the house instead of him, but as soon as they entered the master bedroom, her eyes went straight to the queen-size mattress, and all she could think about was him and how it might be to lie next to him, to have him touch her, love her.

Oh, God, don’t let her think about that now, she prayed. She didn’t want him to see the longing in her eyes or to ever guess that she had any sort of feelings for him.

“I like this,” she said of the varnished knotty-pine bed and accompanying chest and dresser. Leaving his side, she walked over and ran a hand over the Native American blanket covering the mattress. “Everything looks so Western. I’m actually going to feel like I’m living on a ranch.”

“You will be living on a ranch.”

She dared to look at him and was surprised to feel her breathing had quickened, along with her heartbeat. What was this place doing to her? she wondered. She’d spent hours and hours alone with this man for the past five years. This was nothing new. Just because the two of them were together in a secluded house didn’t change the fact that they were, at the most, friends.

Glancing away from him, she walked over to an eight-drawer chest. Atop it stood a small lamp with different ranch brands printed on the beige-fabric shade. She absently touched the edge of it, as she asked, “I wonder who used to live in this place?”

“I think it was the cook’s elderly mother. She passed away a few months ago.”

“You must mean Reena’s mother, Tiwa,” Laurel said. “I used to see the old woman when I visited the ranch. She’d be in the kitchen with her daughter. But after she began to age, I didn’t see her much. I believe she was close to a hundred when she died. I wonder why the Cantrells provided her with such nice housing.”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t say. But I’m betting the old woman probably worked for them in her younger days.”

“Hmm. I’ll have to ask Alexa the next time I speak with her.” She moved away from the chest and started toward the door. “Let’s look at the rest of the place.”

He followed her out of the bedroom and across a short hallway to a second bedroom. It was smaller, but still a good size. The bathroom was jammed between the two bedrooms, and directly behind the living room was the kitchen.

As soon as they walked into the kitchen, Laurel spotted a note on the table and she quickly scooped it up and began to read out loud: “‘Laurel, I’ve cleaned up most of the dust and laundered the bedding. If there’s anything else you need or want, just let us know at the big house. Welcome! Sassy.’”

“Do you know Sassy?” Russ asked.

“Yes. She’s the housekeeper at the big house. I’ll have to thank her for all the cleaning.” She lowered the note, then looked at him and shook her head with amazement. “Russ, when you said I would be getting housing with the job, I thought at best it would be manufactured. But this—it’s like a little mansion to me!”

He walked over to where she stood beside the table, and the faint grin on his lips made her groan inside. He didn’t have a clue that he was shamefully sexy. Nor did he have a clue that she would love to wrap her body around his, to feel his whiskered cheek rub against her skin, his lips tasting hers.

“Then you’re happy about this?” he asked.

She gave her head a mental shake, while hoping her cheeks weren’t as pink as they felt. “If you’re talking about the house and furniture, then yes, I’m very, very happy. If you’re talking about the job, well, I can’t answer that until we start working.”

A little scowl drew his brows together. “What if you don’t like it?”

She shrugged as she met his gaze. “What if you don’t like it?” she retorted.

One corner of his mouth crooked upward. “Touché.”

Swallowing at the ball of nerves in her throat, she moved around him and walked over to the cabinets. As she pretended to inspect the stainless-steel sink, she told herself that she had to get a grip. Nothing had really changed between them. Something about this place only made it feel that way.

She heard his footsteps approaching from behind and then suddenly she felt his hand rest on her shoulder. For a moment she practically stopped breathing and her eyes instinctively closed as she tried to brace herself.

“Laurel, I think I should apologize.”

His words stunned her completely and she forgot that he was standing so close until she whirled around to face him. And suddenly she realized her breasts were very nearly brushing his chest, and his face was only inches from hers.

“Apologize?” she asked quietly. “For what?”

He grimaced. “I don’t know—just seeing you here tonight—it’s made me realize that I was asking far more of you than I had a right to.”

“You let me make my own decision,” she said in a voice that sounded breathy, even to her ears. “No one twisted my arm to be here.”

“No. But you liked the clinic and you’ve always lived in town. I’m asking you to make some huge changes. And you said you didn’t like change.”

He remembered her saying that? Maybe she’d better keep a closer watch on what she was saying to this man.

“I did say that,” she agreed. “But sometimes a person’s life needs to be shaken a little, just to keep things interesting. Besides, you needn’t worry about me. You have far more things of your own to deal with.”

He let out a heavy breath, then lifted his cowboy hat and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “You’re really too good for me.”

In an effort to lighten the moment, she quietly laughed. “I know that.”

His brown eyes locked with hers as his body moved ever so much closer to hers. “You’re laughing,” he pointed out in a low voice. “And it’s not a blue moon.”

“No,” she said inanely, while wondering wildly what he was doing and why. He’d never looked at her this way. Never touched her this way. “Sometimes it just slips out of me.”

He let out another long breath, and Laurel could feel the warmth of it brushing her cheeks. Thankfully, she had a scarf wrapped around her neck; otherwise he’d be able to see the pulse pounding rapidly at the base of her throat.

“I’m glad you can laugh, Laurel. I’m glad you’re happy with the house. And I’m glad you chose to come here with me.”

His words were buzzing through her brain, even as she watched his lips growing closer and closer to hers.

Was he actually going to kiss her?

The incredulous thought had barely skipped through her head when his palm came up to rest against her cheek and his lips came down on hers.

For a brief second as their lips made contact, she was sure her heart stopped completely. And then suddenly every part of her body was flooded with sensations so intense she staggered back slightly against the cabinet counter.

He moved with her, and for what seemed like an eternity, but not nearly long enough, his lips moved over hers in a warm, thorough search that sucked every ounce of breath from her body.

When he finally lifted his head and broke the contact between them, Laurel was visibly shaken, and she stared at him as fear came rushing in behind a wall of desire.

“What—Why did you do that?” she finally managed to ask.

Regret, or something like it, twisted his features. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to hear that from you.”

“All right. You won’t,” he retorted, his demeanor suddenly changing back to the boss she’d dealt with for the past five fears.

With a tiny groan, she twisted away from him and hurried out of the kitchen. He followed her into the living room, but stopped a few feet away from where she stood near the picture window.

Glancing over her shoulder, her gaze slid over him, his stance wide and his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his coat. Although there was nothing inviting about the expression on his face, Laurel still wanted to run and fling her arms around him.

She was crazy, she thought. Hopelessly crazy.

“If you’ve seen enough, I think we’d better be heading on to the other house,” he suggested gruffly.

Laurel looked out the window and wondered why now, after all this time, she felt tears burning her throat and stinging the backs of her eyes. Since Lainey had died, she rarely ever shed tears over anything. It wasn’t right that Russ could pull that much emotion from her.

She said stiffly, “If you don’t mind, I’d rather stay here and look at things a bit more.”

“All right. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he told her.

She nodded and he quickly left the house. From her spot at the window, she watched his headlights pull away, then head on up the mountain. But once they were completely out of sight, she sank weakly onto the arm of the couch and dropped her head in her hands.

This wasn’t going to work, she thought sickly. Not this lovely little house, or the job, or him. Because his kiss had shown her exactly how much she was missing and all the things she could never have. Wherever she went on this ranch he’d be nearby and his kiss would be haunting her, tempting her. How could she ever endure that much misery?

She’d have to bear it, she told herself. Or live her life without him. And that was a choice she wasn’t quite ready to make.