Читать книгу The Doctor's Cowboy - Trish Milburn - Страница 11

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.