Hot-Shot Doc, Secret Dad: A Single Dad Romance
Lynne Marshall
To hell with being friends.
He ducked his head, then moved in to kiss the woman on her doorstep.
A fleeting kiss.He didn’t go for sexy or overpowering or anything beyond a sweet meeting of their lips for old times’ sake. Even so, the chaste kiss surprised him—how soft her lips were, how right they felt, how she hadn’t resisted, how kissing her opened a flood of tender feelings he’d kept tucked away.
Julie Sterling hadn’t wanted to return to her hometown. She hasn’t lived there since leaving thirteen years before, heart broken and pregnant. When she loses her parents in an accident she has no choice but to go back where it all began, and try to raise and protect her son.
Trevor still remembers Julie from that summer night all those years ago. The nurse and the doctor have changed a lot from their younger selves but even after all this time they’re drawn to each other. When Julie reveals to Trevor the true consequence of that night was a son he’d never known it’s the second time she’s taking a risk with the handsome cowboy.And maybe this time is their story can have a happy ending…
Life has a way of sometimes putting two hearts exactly where they belong in this sexy-sweet single dad second-chance romance.
COWBOYS, DOCTORS … DADDIES!
The Montgomery brothers—from bachelors to dads!
Trevor and Cole Montgomery are the best-looking bachelors in Cattleman Bluff—not to mention the doctors everyone wants to see!
More than one woman has tried to persuade these men to say ‘I do’, but no one’s succeeded … Until two women move to Cattleman Bluff and turn the lives of these hot docs upside down!
Because it’s not just the women Trevor and Cole are going to fall in love with—it’s their adorable children too …
Don’t miss this delightful new duet from Lynne Marshall:
Hot-Shot Doc, Secret Dad
and
Father for Her Newborn Baby
Available now!
Praise for Lynne Marshall (#ulink_9b649ba7-e212-5a48-888d-aec991dcc8a0)
‘Heartfelt emotion that will bring you to the point of tears, for those who love a second-chance romance written with exquisite detail.’
—Contemporary Romance Reviews on NYC Angels: Making the Surgeon Smile
‘Lynne Marshall contributes a rewarding story to the NYC Angels series, and her gifted talent repeatedly shines. Making the Surgeon Smile is an outstanding romance with genuine emotions and passionate desires.’
—CataRomance
Dear Reader (#ulink_2ecf3cc8-7381-552f-9973-e4270faa9833),
Welcome to Cattleman Bluff, Wyoming!
When I first mentioned to my editor that I’d like to write about cowboy doctors, to be honest I expected a giggle. Instead I found support and enthusiasm for Trevor and Cole, the Montgomery brothers of Wyoming.
In Book One, Hot-Shot Doc, Secret Dad, Trevor literally gets the surprise of his life. Little does he know that the emphasis will be on ‘family’ when he hires Julie Sterling, a nurse practitioner returning to her hometown after being away for thirteen years. Funny how life has a way of sometimes putting us exactly where we belong …
A freak accident introduced Cole to medicine. He’s the hero in Book Two, Father for Her Newborn Baby. When Cole has to step down from his highly respected position as a cardiology specialist and return to do country medicine for a while he’s paired with Lizzie Silva, a ‘rough around the edges’ doctor from the streets of Boston. She comes with extra baggage … in the way of a tiny baby! Can things get any more complicated?
I’m proud to mention that this story is my twentieth book for Harlequin Mills & Boon
. I was thrilled to write two stories set in the gorgeous state of Wyoming, a place I love and can’t wait to visit again. Plus, I got to write about not one but two weddings! I hope you enjoy the Cowboys, Doctors … Daddies duet as much as I enjoyed writing Trevor, Julie, Cole and Lizzie’s stories.
Happy trails!
Lynne
www.lynnemarshall.com (http://www.lynnemarshall.com)
‘Friend’ Lynne Marshall on Facebook to keep up with her daily shenanigans.
LYNNE MARSHALL used to worry that she had a serious problem with daydreaming—then she discovered she was supposed to write those stories! A late bloomer, Lynne came to fiction writing after her children were nearly grown. Now she battles the empty nest by writing stories which always include a romance, sometimes medicine, a dose of mirth, or both, but always stories from her heart. She is a Southern California native, a woman of faith, a dog-lover and a curious traveller.
Hot-Shot Doc, Secret Dad
Lynne Marshall
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
This book is dedicated to the beautiful state of Wyoming.
With special thanks to Flo Nicoll for letting me write the Montgomery brothers’ stories.
Table of Contents
Cover (#ua3280fb6-5c2d-5733-b71b-3428afe0afcc)
Praise for Lynne Marshall (#ulink_c5eb7a45-cc8b-591c-b33b-79a4169d3f53)
Dear Reader (#u8d5f10cd-e1c1-55ad-af56-2cfefb8dac39)
About the Author (#uacc41a82-76f1-5611-9b23-a44274d85048)
Title Page (#u871fbac6-7b7b-5c0f-85e0-18227f9e750c)
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_fc001e81-f9d4-58fd-9bc9-185bfa127774)
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_a0da3482-966a-5021-85ff-672aacca0585)
CHAPTER THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_bc3882e8-cedc-541c-a92a-aeccf01c6908)
JULIE WAITED TO FACE the guy who’d knocked her up thirteen years ago.
“Ms. Sterling?” The young and attractive medical clinic receptionist called her name as if it were a crowded waiting room.
Julie was the only one sitting there, being that it was almost lunchtime. “Yes?”
“Dr. Montgomery will be with you as soon as he finishes with his last patient. He apologizes for running late. The appointment turned out to be a little more involved than expected.”
“Thanks for letting me know.” Julie’s nerves were twisted to the point of breaking anyway over the thought of facing the man who’d once changed the entire course of her life. Now she’d get to balance on this tightrope over the roiling anxiety a while longer. Oh, joy.
Her goal was to not let on how desperate she was for the job. But how would she control these butterflies over facing him again after all these years? Short answer, she had to. She’d do whatever was necessary to get this job. Anything for her son.
What was that old saying about how you could never go home again? Well, Cattleman Bluff, Wyoming, population twenty thousand, was the last place in the world Julie had expected to wind up. Her parents had bought her a ticket on a one-way train out of town when she’d barely been eighteen.
Now here she was applying for a job with a man she never, ever wanted to see again for a dozen different reasons that all boiled down to one in particular. But as a single mother, she’d do whatever it took to make a better life for her son, James. Twelve years old, with thirteen breathing down his neck come May, all hormones and bad choices, and already getting into trouble back in Los Angeles. James needed strong men in his life to set him straight, and the military school in Laramie seemed the best place for now.
Guilt stabbed at her conscience as it had for years. She’d made a rash decision at a tender age and had stuck to her guns no matter how hard it had been. Problem was, with James going wild, and now with the death of her parents, her bull-headed strength had run out. It was crunch time. After thirteen years of running, fighting and insisting she could manage on her own, she’d finally realized she needed backup. From a man.
The school was willing to take James midsemester. Of course, with his being there, that meant she’d be living and working over a hundred miles away from her son, but that was another sacrifice she’d have to make.
The school cost a lot, and the small monetary windfall from her parents helped tremendously toward that. All she had to do was cover their personal living expenses. Thankfully, she had a solid profession to rely on … if she got this job, that was.
If she didn’t, she’d try for something closer to the school, but her parents had left her their home in the will, and these days only a fool would turn down free housing, even if it required moving to a new state.
Julie fought off another ripple of guilt and regret for the messy relationship they’d had—how her careless actions had been at the heart of it, but, even before, her parents’ expectations for her future had been overbearing—and the fact they’d never mended it before their horrible accident at Christmas. Deciding to get out of the extralong winter, her parents had set out driving to Florida and had hit a patch of black ice a mere twenty miles from home. A swell of emotion built deep in her chest and pushed against her throat. She swallowed hard around it. All the years they’d lost because of the stubborn Sterling spirit, which worked both ways, theirs and hers. James had never really gotten to know his grandparents either … Now her eyes were welling up. She couldn’t let this happen here. Especially not now. She had to stay strong.
Julie glanced at her watch and blinked the blur away. It was twenty minutes past her appointment time. She’d cut the doctor some slack, and use the gift of time to pull herself together.
Being a nurse practitioner, she understood how one appointment could turn into something much more than routine—a patient might come in for a diabetes check and their blood pressure would be out of control, or they’d happen to mention that they’d been having dizzy spells on their way out the door, or that the cut on their foot they’d neglected to mention before that moment had red streaks running up the leg. While working for LA County medical clinics, she’d learned anything was possible when dealing with health and patients.
Or, it could be that she was the last person on earth Trevor Montgomery wanted to see …
Julie took a deep breath to steady her crawling-out-of-control jitters. Focusing away from the reality of facing her fears and the downright sadness of losing her parents, and on to the task at hand. Getting the job. No matter what. And that ushered in a second wave of riotous anticipation. Of all the people in the world to need a job from.
She shook her head. Would Trevor even remember her after thirteen years?
To distract herself, she glanced around. The cozy waiting room was typical of many she’d been in, with the exception of having a cowboy rustic charm. Several oil paintings of cattle drives filled the walls. What else could she expect from Cattleman Bluff? The couches and chairs were in earthy tones, browns and beige with pops of orange, and made with natural wood, sanded and varnished, smoothed to perfection for armrests. The choice of magazines was decidedly Wyoming slanted, too. Out West Today. Wyoming Home. Western Living. Not to mention the huge cowboy boot–shaped umbrella holder beside the front door.
It had to be thirty degrees outside in mid-February. Back home in California, it seemed to be an endless spring, no matter what month. Fortunately her mother had left behind her warm winter coat and rubber-soled, faux fur–lined boots. Though a size too big, they’d do for today, and wearing them helped Julie remember her mother’s softer, warmer side, the one she’d rarely showed as Julie had gotten older. Snapping away from where those thoughts might lead, she pondered how quickly a person could get used to the mild weather out on the West Coast. Had she turned into a weather wuss?
“Ms. Sterling, Doctor will see you now.” The perky and blonde twenty-something receptionist held the door open. Julie’s heart pounded as if she’d be meeting the president of the United States and would have to deliver his speech to the nation at the last minute, or something.
Get a hold of yourself. Trevor’s just a human being, not God. Though he does seem to hold your future in his hands today.
What was that old trick to help settle nerves—picture them naked? It didn’t take long for her memory to click in with a bigger-than-life naked-jock image.
Oh, no, not a good idea. Now she could add flushed cheeks to the ever-growing list of mounting terrors. The spiteful image flashed again as she fumbled to pick up her purse. Funny how some moments stuck in the mind as if they’d happened yesterday.
“This way.” Blonde Rita, the receptionist, walked with a distinct sway down a short hall. Out of the blue, Julie wondered if Trevor was now married with children.
They passed four patient-exam rooms toward a modest office at the end, gulp, where Trevor Montgomery, the once-gifted high school athlete, exceptional student, all-around dreamy guy—not to mention the man who’d taken her virginity—waited.
Julie did one last futile battle with the panic jetting along her nerve endings, then threw in a quick prayer to help her get through the interview.
Trevor stood behind a huge rustic weathered wood ranch-style desk, smiling and reaching for her hand when she finally had the guts to look up. Tall, as she’d remembered, dark hair, piercing brown, almost black, eyes thanks to distant Native American heritage on his mother’s side. Handsome as ever. She stopped in her tracks and took him all in.
She couldn’t very well stand there gawking, so she tore away her gaze, and glanced around the office. Matching woven iron lamps with stretched cowhide shades said classic cowboy chic through and through.
The steer antlers that were thankfully missing in the waiting room were mounted on the wall behind his desk, like a crown, exactly where he stood. No white coat for him. No, he wore a blue pinstriped, long-sleeved, button-down, Western-style shirt, open at the neck, no tie. No wedding ring either. The black Wrangler jeans with a tasteful, not overly large, silver-and-bronze intricately patterned belt buckle were de rigueur for these parts, and she assumed he wore boots, but couldn’t be sure since he stood behind the behemoth desk. But obviously he did, right?
“Julie? It’s great to see you again.” Those eyes seemed to look into her soul. Thirteen years had transformed the good-looking young jock into a mature and handsome thirty-four-year-old man, by her count, complete with winter tan and creases fanning out from his eyes—the mark of a guy who still worked outdoors on his family’s Circle M Ranch.
“Nice to see you, too,” she mumbled and lied, forced a step forward and jutted out her hand, performing some kind of royalty handshake, one she’d normally never do. But since his mere touch had set off sparklers all the way down to her fingertips, she didn’t want to hold his hand unnecessarily—even if it made her seem prudish. It was just all so awkward, wasn’t it?
No ring. No picture of a family on his desk that she could see either. Didn’t mean he wasn’t involved, though, did it?
He didn’t belabor the wimpy handshake. “I had no idea you were a nurse practitioner, with great credentials, too.” His relaxed cadence reminded her how much she’d forgotten about home since living in LA for thirteen years. Things slowed down here, not that mad rush called daily life out West.
She nodded, not anywhere ready to find her voice.
“So what are you doing back in Cattleman Bluff?” He gestured for her to sit. She obeyed but perched on the edge of the chair rather than getting comfortable—no way that would happen anyway.
She cleared her throat, goading herself to woman up. “The truth?”
He nodded, a hint of intrigue darkening those already deep brown irises.
“My parents died in a car accident.”
“I’d heard. What a tragedy. I’m so sorry,” he said with a perfect mix of empathy and sincerity. Good job, Doc.
She gave a quick nod, unwilling to get sidetracked. Not now—she had to stay focused. Win the job! “Yes, well. They left me the house, and it turns out there was a place for my son at the military academy in Laramie for the rest of this semester. He’s in orientation now.”
“I’ve heard good things about that school.” Though the one quirked brow proved he knew the school was a haven for troubled boys, and Cattleman Bluff had a perfectly good middle school just around the corner.
Her jaw clamped tight. His brow remained quirked. They stared at each other.
“Ah.” She was grateful he trudged ahead rather than allow an awkward silence—probably just to be polite. “You know my brother keeps an apartment in Laramie. He prefers it there over Cheyenne.” They’d hit their first rocky patch. Trevor—or Dr. Montgomery as he deserved to be called for today’s purposes—segued smoothly as that driven snow outside the window into easy banter. “When he isn’t gallivanting around the country lecturing and training other cardiologists, that is.”
Julie raised her brows in acknowledgement, but didn’t add a comment, not wanting to open the door for a deeper discussion on why her son was going to military school.
She’d heard of the great Cole Montgomery, practicing cutting-edge mitral valve replacements in the same fashion as cardiac catheterization, at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. The guy who’d been the pride of Cattleman Bluff and the one person Trevor couldn’t seem to outshine. The thought made Julie wonder why Trevor had settled here, practicing family medicine, instead of pursuing a more lucrative medical specialty like his big brother.
“So,” Trevor continued on, since Julie was proving to be less than chatty. “You’re certainly the best-qualified candidate for this job. I need someone who can pull their weight and work independently. The fact that you’re also a licensed midwife is a big plus. Hell, you’re probably better at delivering babies than I am.” He flashed his trademark charming smile—nice lips, white teeth. Yeah, she remembered that smile.
“I’ve delivered a hundred or so babies over the last five years. Handled my share of difficult births.”
“That’s great, Julie. We’ll need those skills, too.” He laced his fingers and rested his elbows on the desk. “You’re probably wondering why I’m hiring.”
“Business is booming?”
He gave an obligatory smile. “Not quite. The reason is my father has had some health issues lately, and I need to be more help on the ranch. Some days, if you get the job, you’ll be running the clinic all by yourself. Would you be okay with that?”
“I would.” And she meant it. She’d been expected to pull her load in the last two clinics where she’d worked in Los Angeles, even when she’d protested that they were treating her as if she were a doctor, but not paying her the same wages. Fact was, she knew how to handle hard work.
“Some days it’s deader than the prairie around here, then all of a sudden everyone gets sick. You just never know. And with winter almost over, people come out in droves. But I need to know my patients are in good hands when I’m doing my ranch chores.”
“If you hire me, I’ll give this job one hundred percent effort. I promise.”
“You need the job?”
This was no time to play coy. Of course I do! “I do. That military school is pricey, and, last I looked, you’re the only game in town.”
“Fair enough.” He sat straighter, reached for a pad of paper and a pen. “Then I need to do an extensive interview to gauge your medical experience, if you don’t mind.”
Great, now they’d play twenty questions—medical tricks, and treatment of the day—and she’d better come through. At least her jitters had settled down, thinking about medicine. “Fire away, Dr. Montgomery.”
Twenty minutes later, after the most thorough and difficult medical interview in her life, Julie realized her palms were clammy. What if, after all of this, she didn’t get the job? What would she do now that James was already enrolled at the military academy?
“If I hire you, I won’t throw you in the fire. I promise to give you a couple of weeks’ orientation, where you can shadow me and my patients, and learn the system. Or as long as you need. I’m proud to say I’m the only doctor outside of Cheyenne that uses computerized charting. It takes a bit of getting used to, but in the long run—”
“I’m familiar with that, depending on the system you’re using.” County Hospital had been late to implement the charting system, and the one they’d used had been clunky, but she’d figured it out well enough.
“Great. So do you have any questions for me?”
Are you married? Do you have children? “Is there a benefits package, and how soon will it kick in—that is, if you hire me.” How desperate could she sound?
“As soon as the paperwork is processed, and you’ve completed your orientation, you’ll be covered.” Trevor pressed the intercom then pushed back from his desk.
“Yes, Doctor?” Rita’s chirpy voice was loud and clear and maybe a little too fawning.
“Could you bring in the new-employee paperwork?”
Julie inhaled, realizing she’d held her breath since her last question. “I’ve got the job?”
“It’s yours if you want it.” Trevor offered a far more genuine smile this time.
“Thank you.” Now Julie smiled, too, anxiety streaming out of her body.
Rita arrived with a packet of paperwork, and handed it to Julie, assessing her more closely as she did.
“You probably want to have your lunch before your afternoon patients, maybe call your wife, so I can fill this out in the waiting room, if you’d prefer.”
“No need. The clinic is closed on Tuesday afternoons. Otherwise, I’d introduce you to Charlotte, my nurse. I’ve got to finish up on Mr. Waverly’s chart anyway. Feel free to stay right there.” He went back to work but said as an aside, “Oh, and there isn’t a Mrs. Montgomery. Just my old man, and, to be honest, having dinner with him every night is enough.” He gave that charming smile over his laptop, slyly forgiving her for her none-too-subtle probing into his personal life. She pretended to be completely focused on the paperwork.
Though he did seem easy and open about still being a bachelor. She wondered if it had to do with being stuck in this small town taking care of his father while his brother lived the good life traveling and keeping two homes.
For the next several minutes, Julie filled in all the blanks about her personal information, but sneaked surreptitious glances at Trevor as she did. His mahogany-colored hair was still thick and wavy, covering the tips of his ears. After all this time, she remembered how she’d run her fingers through it the one night they’d been together, probably because she’d dreamed about touching that hair all that summer long. His square jaw was set while he typed away at his keyboard. He knit his brows and seemed very concerned about whatever it was he entered about poor Mr. Waverly’s condition.
Once, he glanced up at the exact moment Julie did and their eyes met then skipped away from each other quicker than water on a hot griddle. Even so, the visual contact slid through her center, further jangling her nerves.
The man deserved to know.
But she needed the job. No way would she tell him! Not now anyway. Oh, man, why had she even considered coming home?
Round and round her thoughts chased each other. She was at the end of her rope and James needed … well, a father.
With her mouth dry and her hands clammier than ever, she finished her employment paperwork and handed the packet to Trevor. His lips torqued in a rigid manner as he took them, as if they were something sacred, then he used the intercom and asked Rita to process everything before she left for the day.
“Want to start tomorrow?” he asked, without looking at one iota of Julie’s personal information, while handing everything over to Rita—who must have been standing right outside in order to get there so fast.
“The sooner the better,” Julie said, relieved she’d have a new job before her final paycheck from her prior job was due.
He smiled tensely, and once Rita had left with the paperwork, Trevor shot Julie an anxious glance. Was he changing his mind? He followed Rita to the door, closing it behind her, further raising Julie’s curiosity. What did he have up his sleeve?
“Listen,” he said, stretching his lower lip and biting on it, as if the words were stuck just behind his teeth. Instead of walking back around his desk, he sat next to her. She’d been right about his wearing boots—black gator belly-patterned boots, to be exact. She stared at them rather than look at Trevor. “I’d like to ask you to forgive me.”
What? She was unable to hide her reaction; her chin pulled in, brows shot up and she was quite sure her eyes bugged out—at least that was how it felt. She had a dreaded hunch about what he referred to, and for the record he did look contrite, yet she still couldn’t quite make her brain believe it. “Seriously?” Did she say that out loud?
He made the wise decision of not attempting to touch her or even get too close. Though he leaned in and sincerity flowed from his gaze. “Completely. I messed up that night. There was nothing honorable about what I did. I took advantage of—”
“Wait a second, I may have been tipsy—well, we both were—but I still knew what I was doing. I had a choice in the matter. Made a bad one, but nevertheless.”
Now he was the one studying his boots. “That’s not the way it should be, the first time, you know?” He looked back up and nailed her. “A lady deserves some romance and wooing that first time. And I never even had the decency to apologize.”
Oh, my gosh, he was going all chivalrous on her. Too late, buddy. She’d waited and waited for his call, which had never come. He’d had his chance to be honorable, but had never bothered. Even so, she decided to take the practical route.
“Now that I’m thirty-one, I can say with certainty that life isn’t always the way it should be. That’s just how it is sometimes.” Without thinking, she reached for his forearm and squeezed. “We were both slightly inebriated, as I recall, and I’ll let you in on a little secret—I went to that party hoping to see you. I couldn’t believe it when you were interested in me, too. So—”
How naive could she have been? Any male would be interested in a willing woman at that age. Yeah, she’d learned that lesson the hard way.
“That still doesn’t make it right,” he said. “It’s not like losing your virginity can happen more than once.”
True, but how often did a girl get bells and whistles and romance with her first time? At least that had seemed to be the consensus among her friends back then, and, crazy as it sounded, it had helped ease her broken heart.
“It’s weighed on my mind and I just wanted to set things straight since you’re going to be working for me.” He glanced down at her hand, still grasping his forearm, and her ringless finger. “I messed up that night, didn’t have a clue you weren’t like the girls at college. I took advantage of you, plain and simple. Please forgive me.”
The remorseful expression, coupled with those dark, pleading eyes, painted a gentlemanly and heartfelt apology. It warmed Julie’s cynical heart by a few degrees, and brought out the forgiver in her. She let up on the tight clutch on his arm.
Truth was she’d packed away that chapter of her life years ago. What were the odds of getting knocked up your first time? Lucky her, right? Once the thrill of being with the guy of her dreams had worn off, he’d never called again, and the couple of missed periods had finally clicked in—better late than never, right? Julie had forgotten about that party and Trevor, who had already been long gone—she didn’t forget about him that quickly—and she’d faced the tough reality that she’d soon be a single mother at the ripe old age of eighteen.
But today was about a job, not about losing her virginity and getting pregnant. “Apology accepted.”
To be honest, many things weighed on her mind, too, about that night and the aftermath.
She’d already been enrolled at the University of Denver, and had settled into her dorm, gone through orientation, started her classes. After a couple of months and her normally irregular periods had just upped and quit, she hadn’t been able to deny her suspicions any longer and had taken a home test. Even though they’d used a condom, she’d gotten pregnant.
Julie had called her mother. The woman who’d had big plans for her education. Julie had been the model student her entire life—actually had had no choice, with her mother being a grade-school teacher and her father the principal of Cattleman Bluff High School.
Her mother’s voice had dropped at the truth. She’d flipped out, told Julie to have an abortion, so focused on her future, forgetting about Julie’s feelings and thoughts on the matter. “Your life will be over because of that baby.” She’d spit out the word baby, making Julie wonder if she’d ruined her own mother’s life.
“They’ll think you’re only after their money, those Montgomerys,” her father had said spitefully when he’d gotten on the phone. “They’ll publically humiliate you, and us.”
She’d shamed her parents and that had seemed to be all that mattered. Amazingly, with them, she and her baby had been left out of the mix.
Logically, because she’d been trained to think that way, Julie had transferred those implanted thoughts and doubts onto Trevor, the guy just beginning med school. With every ounce of guilt she’d felt heaped on her by her parents—as Julie’s mother had gotten her father involved in the call, with both pressuring her into ending the pregnancy—Julie had bundled up her feelings and kept her mouth shut.
Trevor hadn’t ever called her again. He hadn’t given a damn about her. It had hurt like hell and she’d been alone in a new city, with no friends and parents telling her to get rid of it. As if a baby could be called an “it”.
Hurt, anger and a large dose of immaturity had rounded out her decision. The good part was, against her parents’ advice, she’d kept her baby.
The tricky part was, she’d chosen never to tell Trevor about her being pregnant because she hadn’t wanted to be told to give up her baby by anyone else. She wouldn’t have regardless, no matter how much her parents had pressured her. But they’d gotten through to her on the rest—she hadn’t wanted to interfere with Trevor’s dream of becoming a doctor by telling him he was going to be a daddy. He’d already proved he didn’t care about her, hadn’t once tried to get in touch with her since they’d been together that night. She’d feared he’d deny he’d been with her, put all the blame on her, as her parents had. It would have ruined her one perfect night with the guy she’d dreamed about all summer.
Julie glanced at the man sitting next to her, smiling benevolently, and tried her best not to betray her thoughts.
Would he have accused her of only being after his family’s money, as her father had suggested? Being so young, she’d believed her parent’s predictions. And she’d been hurt, so hurt when she’d been forced to realize she didn’t mean anything to Trevor.
She’d been too young, immature, emotionally wounded and way too mixed up to work out all the particulars. How could she be expected to act rationally? But she’d stub-bornly chosen to keep Trevor in the dark. She’d show him. At least that was how it had started out. Then the reality of being a single mom and supporting herself had kicked in, and she’d been bound and determined to prove her parents wrong. She could do it all. She would do it all. Trevor had practically been forgotten by then. Now all these years later, she’d have to face her decision and somehow justify it.
Here she was accepting an apology from a man who’d taken her virginity but didn’t have any idea he was a father. That huge, and quite possibly unforgivable, reality twisted and tied into a knot the entire size of her stomach, making it hard to breathe.
“So you have my word that I’ll only behave respectfully and professionally toward you from here on out.” Could the guy sound any stiffer? Could she feel any worse?
Remember to breathe. “I appreciate that.” She figured she’d better ensure one thing before moving forward with what she suddenly needed—had no choice, in her mind—to do. “And I definitely have the job, right? And not just because of that?”
He gave a relieved smile. “I expect you to be here at eight tomorrow morning. Our first patient is scheduled for eight-thirty.”
She nodded, the rapid beating of her heart pounding up her neck and into her ears. She couldn’t keep the lie going, not if she’d have to face this man every day at work. It would eat away at her conscience. Might even interfere with her job performance. She couldn’t allow that to happen. For a millisecond she wished she’d never come back home, but James needed a chance at a better life. And she was hell-bent on giving it to him.
When she realized she’d been staring at her folded hands far too long, her gaze flitted upward to find Trevor’s perplexed expression. Oh, yeah, he was onto the fact something else was brewing.
She owed him the truth. Hadn’t he just taken a huge risk, bringing up their past, setting the record straight that he’d regretted their one time together?
Didn’t he deserve to know there were consequences? How on earth would he react?
Her pulse switched to a fluttery rhythm, vibrating all over her chest. This was the moment of truth, and she couldn’t let it pass.
“Trevor. Uh, about that night.” She looked straight ahead, unable to engage his eyes for now. Could he sense the dread in her voice?
James is the most wonderful gift in your life. There’s no room for shame over your son. Just tell him already!
“I mentioned I have a son, James. He’s twelve. Twelve years, nine months, to be exact.” Would he do the math instantaneously? She twisted an imaginary ring on her left hand, knowing she had to look Trevor in the eyes when she told him. Dreading it.
With every last nerve she could gather, she forced her gaze to his, praying he’d understand and not accuse her of lying. If he did, she’d have to quit the job before she ever started. “Well, since we’re laying everything out on the table today, I want you to know that …” She had to swallow first, because her throat seemed to have closed down.
His stare drilled into hers and her chest felt as if it would implode. She took a sip of air and just blurted it out.
“You’re the father.”
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_2f1a852c-f2ec-5b8d-b039-cc7871c09b77)
TREVOR’S BREATH WHOOSHED out of him as if he’d just been kicked in the solar plexus. Well, metaphorically, hadn’t he been? Julie Sterling—a one-night stand from the last night of a particularly great summer vacation—had just gifted him with the news. He was a father of a twelve-year-old boy and had never known it.
“What are you telling me?” He blinked, fighting off disbelief and a surge of anger.
Julie sat there, chin high, staring at him, looking far too young to be thirty-one.
In fact, right now she looked more like that pretty little gal with the wild curly brown hair and huge hazel eyes he’d played fast and reckless with that one night, all those years ago. She still had freckles across the bridge of her nose, and the thickest eyelashes he’d ever seen, and two minutes ago he’d been thinking how great it might be to get to know her again, how beautiful she’d become, how she still set off a reaction he’d forgotten about these past few years. Then she’d lowered the boom and hit him with the craziest news of his life. He had a son?
“I’m telling you the truth. I owe it to you,” she said. “I got pregnant that night.”
He needed to stand. Needed to inhale. Needed to pound his fist into the wall. Was she a whack job, setting him up? His legs seemed undependable at the moment, so he leaned against his desk and dug his hands into his jeans pockets, because he didn’t know what else to do with them. He finally remembered to close his mouth. “You’re sure that I’m the one who got you pregnant?”
Yeah, he was being ridiculously slow on the uptake, on purpose, and maybe a little insulting, too, might even qualify as a jerk, but he’d proved that long ago when he’d never called her after they’d been together. He needed time to process this flabbergasting and life-altering information.
He was a father? What if he didn’t want to be? Damn it, why hadn’t she given him a choice in the matter?
She nodded, unwavering in her speculative stare, her hands knotted in her lap. “As you mentioned earlier, I was a virgin. I didn’t run off and start sleeping around after that either. The OB doc tracked the pregnancy to nearly that exact day.”
Trevor’s hand flew to the top of his head, needing to check for a nonexistent cowboy hat. All these years he’d been a father? “Look, I’m sorry for how that may have come off. I’m just really thrown right now.” Getting kicked off a bucking bull couldn’t have felt worse.
“Understandably.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She slowly shook her head. “I didn’t want to ruin your first year in med school. Didn’t want you to feel obligated to me.” She glanced at the floor. “Didn’t want you to tell me to—”
“Look, I honestly don’t know what I would have done then. It would’ve been nice to have some say in the matter, but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have told you to get rid of it. Er … him.” He grimaced. “James, is it?” His head spun with the knowledge of his son. A kid he’d never had an ounce of input in walked the earth not knowing he had a father. Did James know that he was his father?
“James Monty Sterling.”
“Monty? You know that’s my dad’s nickname, right?”
Still staring at the floor, she nodded.
So that was the one connection she’d kept to his family, and it was only a nickname. He ground his teeth to keep from spitting out the words flying through his head. Anger circled around like a hawk zeroing in on its prey. That urge to bash something with his fist returned, so he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. “That wasn’t right of you.”
Her startled look hit him square in the jaw. “It might not have been right, but it’s what I did. I can’t apologize for it, but if you don’t want to hire me, I get it.”
Could he face her every day, forced to wonder how different the boy’s life would have been if he’d been in it? Would the kid have needed to go to military school if he’d had a father in his life? Why had she held out on him, and could he forgive her? Right now, he wasn’t sure what any of the answers were, but he knew he couldn’t fire her. To spite her, he’d only harm the kid. Instinct told him that wasn’t right.
She’d come back to her hometown to deal with her parents’ estate, and to put her, uh, their son in military school. All these years, she’d never hit him up for money or support on any level, even knowing his family was well off. There had to be something noble in that, except it was a boneheaded thing to do in the first place. She said she hadn’t wanted to ruin his first year in medical school, yet she’d changed the course of her entire life by taking sole responsibility for the act they’d done together.
Taking that into account, some of the rage swirling through his mind simmered down.
Nope, it didn’t seem fair to never know he was a father, but she’d called the shots, and unbeknownst to him he’d stood by in ignorance.
He could only imagine the nerve it took to drop that bomb, and how she’d had to swallow some major pride to apply for a job in his clinic in the first place. Had he been set up?
Something about her pouring out her heart to him after all these years, while having borne the burden of being a single parent for a kid who was half as much his as hers, made him zip through what was left of the shocked, angry and accusatory part. Before he realized what he was doing, he dropped to one knee to take her white-knuckle hands in his.
Her guts at finally telling him overrode his stunned reaction.
He studied her face. What the hell was he supposed to say?
“As you can imagine, I need some time to let this news sink in. I’ve never married and don’t have any kids, so the thought of being a father to a nearly thirteen-year-old son is mind-blowing.”
“I understand.”
She let him hold her hands, but still didn’t look at him.
“Your job’s safe.” Hell, he couldn’t very well kick the mother of his child out on the street, could he? Nor did he want to. He’d been anything but honorable way back then, turned out so had she, but that was all history and it couldn’t be changed. Right now was a chance to make up for it, and there was a kid in need of military school at stake. “But honestly, I’m going to need time to figure out what to do about the fatherhood part.”
“Of course.” Finally she engaged his eyes, looking amazingly earnest and so damn appealing, the expression grabbed his heart and squeezed it. Why did he still feel connected to her? Well, criminy, he was totally bonded to her by a kid, just didn’t know it until now! “I’m fine with keeping this strictly between us for now. I love my son and that will never change, and I don’t expect you to suddenly change your life. I’m just going for full disclosure here. New job and all.”
He patted her hand, thinking how soft and fragile it was, how right it felt cupped in his palm. “Give me some time to work this through, okay?”
“Okay, but first you’ve got to understand I’m not asking for anything but this job, Trevor.”
He nodded. “I believe you.”
“So let’s just keep this under wraps and move forward with my employment for now—is that okay?”
“If only it were that easy, Julie, but okay.” He stood, shaking his head like it might help put sense into the latest news. It didn’t. “At some point I’m going to want to meet him. Tell him.”
“If that time comes, we’ve got to do it together. Promise me that.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
She stood. “I won’t force it. Just so you know.”
He nodded again.
“So I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then?” A definite tentative tone to her question.
“Sure.” Still stunned, he didn’t have a clue what to do next, and his mind, in its currently baffled state, wasn’t exactly coming up with anything else to say either.
Julie headed for the door, her bulky winter coat over her arm, the conservative navy business suit she’d worn fitting her narrow waist and rounded hips perfectly. He glanced at her shapely calves, remembering how he’d liked her legs in short shorts that summer. Man, had that gotten him into trouble … and all these years he’d never even known just how much.
He scratched his head, curiosity causing him to ask. “Do you have a picture of James?”
She stopped and turned. “Of course. You want to see him?” A cautious yet agreeable glint in her eyes led to a flicker of that girl from all those summers ago.
“Please.” All kinds of new feelings buzzed around inside his body; his mind jumped from possibility to implausibility and back. He was a father?
She dug into her purse and produced a red leather wallet, opened it and immediately found a standard school photo and proudly showed it to him. “He’s tall for his age.”
He took it. If he’d doubted for one second that he’d actually been the father, he couldn’t very well do it now. And shame on him for even holding out a tiny hope it wasn’t true. The kid staring at him from the picture was a gangly version of himself at twelve or thirteen, but with Julie’s lighter brown, curly hair and freckles over the bridge of his nose. He suppressed his reaction, but was pretty sure she’d already picked up on it. That DNA couldn’t be denied.
“Thanks.”
“You want to keep it? I’ve got plenty more.”
Did he want to take the first step …? Hell, he’d done that thirteen years ago. “Sure. Thanks.” How could he refuse?
Julie gave a demure yet hopeful smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then.”
He tore his gaze from the photo and exhaled, then watched her walk down the hall to the exit. “I’ll be here.” Then he put the boy’s picture in his desk drawer and closed it.
What the hell was he supposed to do now?
Rather than head straight to the house and face his father, since the sun had poked out that afternoon, Trevor decided to take a ride on Zebulon to help work through the residual anger directed at his newest employee. He also needed to check the area that his smartphone mapping app said was down. Until grazing-management technology was able to produce virtual fences and cattle headgear, he’d continue to do things the old-fashioned way—by hand. And today he’d use this possible boundary breach as an excuse to avoid facing his father. Besides, he needed more time to run the latest news through his brain—for about the hundredth time since Julie had told him he was a father.
He’d come home after graduating from college to help out on the ranch before heading off to medical school. He’d learned to work hard and play hard back then—he’d even finished his undergraduate work in three years instead of the usual four—and every weekend that summer, after helping out on the ranch, he’d hit whichever party in town that had promised the most ladies. Because he’d deserved it. At least, that was what he used to tell himself.
Sitting atop Zebulon, his buckskin Appaloosa, Trevor felt the frigid air cut through his lungs. He inhaled deeper, hoping the burn might shock some sense into him. Yet so far, he couldn’t get Julie and James Sterling, his ready-made family, out of his mind.
Back then, the year he’d met her, word had traveled fast in their tiny town, and it had always been easy to find out about the weekend hangouts. It hadn’t taken much to make a party. An old abandoned barn or a campfire ring, some bales of hay to sit on, car radios for music. The gatherings, as they used to call the weekly events, had always been well attended.
At twenty-one, he hadn’t been a teenager anymore, but he’d gotten used to partying on weekends at the university, so he’d gone. Got treated like near royalty as a college grad, too. And that was the first time he’d noticed Julie. He’d asked one of his buddies who she was and he’d told him she was seventeen and had just graduated from high school. They’d spent most of that summer checking out each other, but something had kept Trevor from approaching her. He hadn’t had any plans that included getting involved with a girl, not back home anyway, and maybe he’d instinctively known she might be trouble. Trouble? With that sweet face and sinful body?
Oh, yeah, trouble—big trouble. And damned if he hadn’t walked right into it.
“Will you dance with me?” she’d asked that night, looking all innocent and pretty as summer itself in a little flowery sundress. It had been the last weekend before he was set to leave for Boston University School of Medicine. He’d held out all summer, but something about the way the campfire had outlined her wild hair, making it look golden with shooting solar flares for curls, had made him accept the beer she’d handed him, and the offer to dance. He even remembered thinking, This is probably the dumbest thing I’ve ever done, and yet he hadn’t been able to help himself and had done it anyway. And it had been a slow dance.
He’d had a couple of beers already; even so he’d known he shouldn’t talk to or dance with this girl, but he hadn’t been able to resist. Not when she’d been right there, smiling so pretty.
Zebulon stopped without reason, and Trevor snapped out of his memories, realizing they were already at the fence line, and sure enough a couple of posts were down. He texted Jack, the ranch foreman, giving him the location, and waited for his reply.
And he remembered Julie’s bright, though guarded, eyes from earlier, how they’d still enticed him. How they’d brought back memories of that last summer home before med school, and his taking advantage of the young woman’s willingness that night. How they’d reminded him of innocence, both his and hers. She was right—she could have ruined the life he’d planned if she’d told him about the pregnancy back then. But she hadn’t. That had taken some guts.
In order to get through her orientation at the clinic, he’d have to turn into the Tin Man. Even now her playful hair and matured features grabbed him in a place he’d rather forget. Yeah, the Tin Man approach was the only ticket regarding her working for him. Good thing his nasty breakup with Kimberley—how she’d dropped him like a bad virus when he’d chosen family medicine over a more prestigious specialty the fourth year of med school—had already taught him how to turn his heart to metal.
His cell phone blipped, bringing him back to the range. Jack had got the message.
Normally, Trevor would have thought to bring his fence-repair kit with him, but today he’d been so distracted by Julie’s news, it had taken all his brainpower just to saddle up and mount his horse. He glanced upward to a cloudless sky, then downrange, seeing hundreds of head of cattle roaming on snow-spotted land.
Getting a girl pregnant hadn’t been his plan that year. Not by a long shot. Hell, he’d just found out the week before his mother had had an abnormal endometrial biopsy and needed more tests. Worrying about her, and about how his first semester in competitive medical school would go, with his big brother’s exceptional brain to compete with, he’d decided to let off some steam that one last weekend, before he’d have to completely buckle down.
And he’d danced with the girl with wild hair and the biggest eyes he could remember.
Zebulon whinnied about something, and Trevor glanced up again. Jack was already heading to the fence and had nearly caught up to him. Who knew how long Trevor had been sitting on the range, staring and thinking?
The man waved as he approached, then stopped. “Thanks for the heads up. We can’t afford to have any more steer wander off. Not with the grey wolves showing up more and more in these parts.”
“Thanks.”
“Until we can budget for putting chips in our cattle, we’ll have to manage like we always have.” Branding and fences seemed so far out of date. Jack was in his early forties and kept up with modern ranching trends. Truth was, Tiberius—Monty—Montgomery was old-school, and not the least bit interested in learning new techniques, or utilizing software and technology for running his ranch. The man still insisted on keeping handwritten bookkeeping ledgers, which Trevor would have to transfer to his own computer books when he got home.
“I’ll talk to Dad again about the cost to chip the cattle, and mention the long-term savings.”
“You do that. Maybe he’ll listen to you.”
Trevor seriously doubted it.
The men smiled at each other and went their separate ways, leaving Trevor to his mind-boggling thoughts. He remembered the exact instant he’d realized Julie was a virgin, he’d stopped thrusting for a moment and looked at her. “Are you sure?” he’d asked. Though she’d grimaced, she’d bucked under his hips, urging him not to stop. He had been soon taken over by his desire; the fact they were having sex while lying in a foot of hay in a barn loft for her first time hadn’t registered. Nope, it was only after they’d snuggled up close afterwards, and he had smelled summer in her hair and sex on her skin, that he’d started to feel guilty. He’d been on the verge of bringing up the subject when two of her friends had called her name at the barn entrance, told her they were leaving and she’d better come with them. Julie had jumped up, thrown on her dress and underwear, then kissed him one last time and disappeared with her girlfriends. That was when their situation had started to sink in.
No, she wouldn’t see him again.
She hadn’t had a clue he’d be gone by Monday, yet he’d let her go, then lain there and stared through the cracks in the roof of the barn at the black summer sky, thinking he’d done something he shouldn’t have. Something he’d really enjoyed, but would regret. And he hadn’t even had the decency to see her home.
Well, at least she hadn’t lost her virginity in the back of the old beat-up car he’d been driving that summer, his brother’s hand-me-down. A barn loft had to be more romantic than that. Right?
He racked his brain and knew he’d used contraception, just as he had all through college. No girl had gotten pregnant … until Julie.
Zebulon galloped toward the barn, like a homing pigeon, obviously eager to get brushed and fed. Trevor dismounted his horse and pushed the nagging thought of Julie and that night out of his mind. He should have at least said goodbye to her. It was the decent thing to do. He should have called and told her he was sorry for taking her virginity, too. Yet he’d done neither. Instead he’d left town for med school and never looked back. Soon forgetting all about her and that night.
Until her name and credentials had come across his desk on a job application.
His long-overdue apology hadn’t been the least bit honorable. It had been obligatory and smarmy. What a heel he’d turned out to be.
Trevor walked the path to his home, the only place he’d ever lived, outside college and medical school, and gritted his teeth thinking it would be extra hard to hide his feelings from his father over dinner tonight. But he sure as hell would because this was one topic he did not want to bring up over one of Gretchen’s casseroles.
But at least by hiring Julie today, he had a chance to make up for taking advantage of her thirteen years ago. There might still be a chance to win back a thread of honor. To meet his son and become the father the kid deserved.
The thought scared the tar out of him.
The next morning Julie kept her word and arrived at the clinic fifteen minutes early, butterflies swarming through her insides and gathering in her stomach. Charlotte, the RN, was there to greet her. Late forties. Graying dull brown hair pulled back tight in a low ponytail. Stocky and average height, wearing a glaring white uniform. Julie surmised the woman loved being a nurse.
“So you’re our new RNP?” Charlotte shoved out a sturdy and rough hand for a shake. “Nice to meet you. Call me Lotte, like my friends. What do you say I give you a tour of the joint before you shadow Dr. Montgomery?”
Grateful for putting off facing Trevor for a second time, especially since she could barely sleep last night from thinking of him, Julie smiled. “I’d love to, thanks.”
Fifteen minutes later, having been shown how each examination room was set up, as well as the procedure room, where the medical supplies and ever-important linens were kept, Julie was escorted back to Trevor’s office.
“Good morning,” he said, looking intriguing and appealing with a day’s growth of beard. The vision nearly made her stop in her tracks. Then she noticed his wildeyed glance and understood how deeply she’d rocked his world yesterday.
Yeah, they both had things to deal with, and working together wouldn’t be easy.
Julie greeted him with a catch in her breath. Those flashing dark eyes were responsible. As well as the perfectly ironed classic Western shirt. Why did she have to notice?
She’d taken extra care to wear comfortable yet stylish clothes today. Black slacks with matching low-heeled leather boots, and an ice-blue thin sweater that her hazel eyes would surely pick up the color from. She’d pulled her hair back from her face, with a folded blue, patterned scarf tied at her neck under the hair that dusted her shoulders. It was either that or a dull old black headband, and she’d gone for color and California style. Not that she’d wanted to catch Trevor’s attention or anything.
These days, in LA, doctors and RNPs no longer wore white coats. She was interested to see if she’d be given one here since studies had shown lab coats carried germs instead of protecting doctors and patients from them.
Trevor motioned her over. “Let me show you the charting system.”
Julie didn’t want to get too close, but he used a small laptop computer to sign in on for their first patient. Sure enough, she had to get close enough to catch the scent of his soap and masculine aftershave and the effect was far too heady for this time of the morning. Fortunately, the young man’s information popped up, distracting her, and Trevor explained the various windows to use and entries she’d be required to make.
“Don’t worry, I won’t make you do this until you feel ready.” He tossed her a friendly smile that put her on edge instead of comforting her. How would she handle the entire orientation at such close range? She needed to adjust her attitude and quick. If he could act detached and businesslike so could she.
Switching to all business, she armored herself with a professional disposition. Besides, Trevor seemed to have already forgotten yesterday’s news, and, even though it cut deep, Julie was grateful for the hiatus.
Trevor stood, laptop in hand, and headed for Exam Room One, where Donald Richardson, a twenty-seven-year-old type-1 diabetic ranch hand, waited. His chief complaint being nasal congestion for ten days and a headache for the past four to five.
After a friendly greeting and introduction of Julie to the patient, Trevor performed a quick examination of his nasal passages. Based on the examination, plus seeing a chart notation from Lotte, it seemed Donald’s temperature was elevated. Trevor told him it looked like he had a sinus infection.
“Take off your shirt so I can listen to your lungs,” Dr. Montgomery said.
Off came the shirt, and Trevor did not look pleased. “What’s this?” He pointed to a colorful shoulder tattoo.
Donald gave a sheepish glance. “My new tattoo.”
Trevor still didn’t look happy, and Julie assumed it was because of the possibility for complications that diabetics might face with body art.
“Did you bring your daily blood-sugar numbers?” Trevor wasn’t going to give the man a break just yet. He pushed some buttons on the laptop and brought up the most recent lab results, then took the small booklet Donald handed him. After glancing at the last couple weeks’ blood sugars, and sliding-scale insulin injections, he shared the info with Julie. She glanced at the computer screen and saw that Donald’s last A1C test was under 7 percent, which was a good thing.
“You know your kidney function has been borderline for a while now, and if you don’t keep your blood sugar under control, getting a tattoo can be dangerous.”
Donald hung his head, as if he was sick of hearing the diabetes story whenever he wanted to do or try something new. “I’ve been keeping it clean and there isn’t any sign of infection.”
“And that’s a good thing. But would you do me a favor, and next time you decide to get a tattoo, or body piercing or anything invasive, would you let me run some lab tests first? The last thing you need is to put your life in danger. If your blood sugar is high, a tattoo can be a playground for bacteria. That bacteria can invade your body and cause all kinds of trouble. Which is exactly what you don’t need.”
“I’ve been doing pretty good with the blood sugars.”
“I can see that. I’m just playing the devil’s advocate.”
From Julie’s assessment, Donald kept his weight under control and looked healthy. But the outside package didn’t always reflect the microscopic goings-on inside the body.
“I understand. You’re just looking out for me.”
“As long as we understand each other.”
“Okay. I promise. But, really, isn’t she a beaut?” Donald nodded at the tropical-inspired tattoo. “Whenever it’s colder than the North Pole up here, I’m going to look at this picture and dream about being in Hawaii.”
Trevor smiled. “That’s another place you’d have to work extra hard to keep your sugars balanced. Hot sticky weather is a playground—”
“—for bacteria. I get it, Doc.”
They exchanged a strained smile, and Julie fought to keep hers to herself.
“Well, the prescription I’m writing for the sinus infection should help, in case this tattoo springs an infection.” He wrote it out, tore it off, and handed it to the younger man. “If you notice any pain, swelling, redness, warmth, streaks or pus on or near that tattoo you let me know immediately.”
“I will, Dr. Montgomery, I promise,” Donald said as he buttoned up his shirt.
“And I gave you seven days of antibiotics for your sinuses. Take all of them. After that, if you aren’t completely cleared up, give me a call.”
“Will do.”
“Oh, and this is Julie Sterling, our new nurse practitioner.”
They gave a friendly greeting, and within seconds Julie nodded goodbye and followed Trevor out the door. Essentially, she agreed with his assessment and plan for Donald. But before she could say a word, Trevor was heading to the next patient’s exam room. He’d been adding all the pertinent data about Donald Richardson into the computer as he went along in the appointment. She wondered how long it would take her to become as proficient with the program.
He entered the next room and immediately washed his hands, as he’d done with the first patient, and made a friendly greeting while doing so. Julie would give Trevor an A for bedside manner—oh, wait, she’d already learned about his bedside manner … a long, long time ago. Man, she needed to erase that picture from her mind. And quick.
By lunchtime they’d hardly spoken ten non-medical-related words to each other, concentrating solely on the patient load and treatments. Their bodies being cramped together in small patient-exam rooms kept an unwanted heat simmering beneath Julie’s cool and calculated surface. Try as she might, she couldn’t ignore her reaction to being near Trevor.
At noon sharp, Lotte came waltzing into Trevor’s office, while he was explaining the required codes for specific ailments and treatments and labs. Julie’s head was spinning with intellectual overload and she was grateful when he handed her a printout of the codes. Until their fingers touched and some crazy tingly reaction nearly made her already-spinning head take flight.
“Come with me, Ms. Sterling,” Lotte said. “May I call you Julie?”
“Of course.” Thank heavens the woman was oblivious to anything beyond the clinic, because Julie was quite sure her cheeks had gone pink. She mentally crossed her fingers that Trevor hadn’t noticed.
“Let me show you the lunch room. Did you bring your lunch?”
“Oh.” Julie had been so nervous about facing Trevor again after the bombshell she’d laid on him yesterday that preparing her lunch had been the last thing on her mind. “I didn’t bring one.”
“Then let me give you a rundown of the local cafés.” Lotte pulled Julie by the arm out of Trevor’s office, and he barely glanced up, until Julie looked back and caught him taking a quick glance. Yipes, there went the head-spinning tingles again the instant their eyes connected. But just as quickly his interest shut down and he went back to the computer task at hand.
This all-business routine was wearing thin. Did it also mean he wouldn’t see her as a human being? “I’ll see you at one, then?”
He nodded, not bothering to look up again from his computer. “See you then.”
She detected he was angry with her, and couldn’t blame him, but also wondered if he was at all curious about James.
Lotte must not have realized that Julie had grown up in town and knew the main stretch like the back of her hand, so Julie let Lotte recommend her favorite spots. One of the cafés Lotte had named was new and Julie decided to give that one a try.
For a town like Cattleman Bluff, whose main claim to fame was the longest antler arch in the state of Wyoming—which she made a point to walk beside and then under while crossing the street, admiring the sheer number of antlers and the thick woven arch they created—the main street did seem to have a few new spots. An appealing dress boutique caught her eye, and a bookstore, actually a second bookstore since the first only specialized in used and unique books, went on her list of places to check out in the future.
The old-style café had a counter and she slipped onto the last available red vinyl stool to make her order.
Halfway through her ham sandwich and cup of homemade vegetable soup she heard the young waitress tell a customer his lunch was ready and waiting with a much cheerier note than when she’d taken Julie’s order.
“Thanks.”
Surprised by the voice, Julie turned to see Trevor accept the sack of take-out food, along with the huge and hopeful smile from the young server.
“Just the way you like it, Dr. Montgomery.”
“You never let me down, Karen. Thanks. Put it on my tab.”
The shapely waitress followed him to the door, and Julie couldn’t help watching them talk briefly together before he left. Dating? Who knew? That was entirely his business, but, since Julie’s pulse had stepped up a beat or two just seeing Trevor relating to the attractive woman, she chided herself for caring.
When Julie finished her tea she asked for her bill.
“Oh. No worries. That’s been taken care of by Dr. Montgomery.”
Julie raised her brows and noticed the waitress’s carefully observant eyes watching her every move. “Oh, well, then, I’ll be sure to thank him.”
As Julie left the lunch counter she could have sworn she heard the young woman mumble, “I’m sure you will …”
Did she think she had claims on Trevor Montgomery any more than Julie did?
There was no way Julie could know the answer to that, but one thing was sure: she’d bring her lunch tomorrow and skip eating at this café in the future.
The afternoon appointments were all fairly routine, and, since Julie needed time to tackle the computer charting, Trevor suggested she spend the rest of the day with Lotte and Rita. A relief to Julie, since being forced to watch Trevor all morning had caused a list of unwanted reactions, none of which were proper, so she took the assignment and ran.
Except he showed up in her office looking torn. “I’ve got an I and D in Exam Room Three. You want to take care of it?”
She understood this was an opportunity for him to evaluate her on an incision-and-drainage procedure. “Sure. Is it a boil or an abscess?”
“A boil.”
She dropped what she was doing with Lotte and Rita, and followed him down the hall. He introduced her to Molly Escobar, a fifty-six-year-old librarian who had formed a ping-pong-ball-sized boil in her right armpit. The area in question was red, angry-looking and weeping pus.
Following protocol from her prior clinical experience for this minor surgical procedure, Julie first cleansed the skin with antiseptic and injected topical anesthetic to numb the area before using a scalpel with a sterile blade to make a small incision to allow the pus to flow out. As she worked she kept in mind that a regular boil looked the same as MRSA and the only way to tell the difference was if the usual antibiotics didn’t help clear the infection. She’d save time and start with a broad-spectrum antibiotic active against both staph and strep just in case.
Once she’d drained the boil, and thoroughly cleaned the area, it looked clear of infection and had healthy tissue at the base, so she placed four sutures. Then she put on a thin layer of sterile gauze followed by a sterile dressing, which would need to be changed daily.
“I’m going to have our nurse show you how to change the dressing, and I want to see you back on Monday for a follow-up visit, okay?”
Dr. Montgomery had been as quiet as an overgrown barn mouse watching her every move, connecting with her glances whenever she looked up during the procedure, blinking his approval, evidently never feeling compelled to make any suggestions.
After Charlotte came to take Ms. Escobar to the procedure room, and they were alone, Trevor looked at Julie and smiled. “You have a gentle touch, Julie,” he said, their eyes lingering briefly longer than necessary, and causing an unwanted reaction behind her breastbone.
“Thank you.” She needed to step away from him. Now. “I’ll go input the notes in the computer,” she said, and sailed out of the room.
By 5:00 p.m. the clinic closed, and Julie walked with Lotte and Rita to the parking lot. Trevor was on his way out, too, and, without knowing, Julie had parked next to his car. She glanced at him, disturbed to find his gaze already settled on her, as she opened her door.
“Dr. Montgomery?” a man’s voice called from across the parking lot.
Trevor looked up, smiled, and waited for the middle-aged man to approach. Julie moved around the car to put in her trunk a ream of paperwork given to her by Lotte to study that night. She dallied out of pure nosiness.
“What’s up, Connor?”
As the man got closer Julie realized the guy was dressed shabbily and looked down on his luck.
“I was wondering if you can give me some advice about—”
Lotte spoke up from two cars down; evidently Julie hadn’t been the only one to linger out of nosiness. “Mr. Parker, you know you’re supposed to make an appointment for those kinds of things.”
“That’s okay, Charlotte, go ahead and go home,” Trevor said, dismissing her in a kind way.
Julie was thinking the same thing—the guy should make an appointment, not hit up the doctor for a parking-lot consultation—but decided to keep her mouth shut if she wanted to stick around to find out what was going on, and if she valued her new job.
“Thanks, Doctor. With the cold weather and all, feet in boots all day and half the night—I’m working a second job as a security guard at Turner’s Hardware—I’ve developed athlete’s foot and I was wondering if you have any samples of that cream you gave me last time?”
“I don’t, but I’ll share a little trick. What you can do is urinate on your feet in the shower. Plug the drain so you can soak your feet in it for a minute or so. Doesn’t cost a penny. Let me know how it works.”
The man looked perplexed, but grateful and willing to give the old wives’ tale a try. “Thanks, Doc. I’ll be sure to let you know how it works.”
As the man walked off Julie folded her arms, no longer able to keep her thoughts to herself. “You don’t expect that to cure his athlete’s foot, do you?”
“My grandmother swore by using urine on her cracked feet, even kept a jar of it for her winter-cracked hands, and folks have been recommending urine for foot fungus for years.”
“Topical antifungals have something like forty percent urea in them, and urine has … what? Two point five percent tops?”
“Your point?” One arm on the roof of his car, looking over the top, he nailed her with a perturbed stare.
“Your treatment won’t be very helpful for him. He might need a strong topical fungicide, or possibly an oral-medicine prescription.”
He took his time to inhale, as though patience was his biggest virtue. “Look, the guy’s health insurance has such a high deductible he can’t afford to make appointments. Let alone buy medicine on the chance it may or may not help, or, worse yet, try oral medicine that can cause liver and heart issues as a side effect. The man’s got six kids and a wife with a lot of physical problems. You heard him—he works two jobs. I’m just trying to save him some money, that’s all.” His brows formed a V as he dared her to challenge his wisdom.
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