Читать онлайн книгу «A Wife For Dr. Sam» автора Phyllis Halldorson

A Wife For Dr. Sam
Phyllis Halldorson
HOW TO MARRY A DOCTOR…The gossip around town was that Dr. Sam Lawford would rather swallow his stethoscope than marry, but woman after woman faked sore throats and got stung by bumblebees just to have Sam's hands on their bodies! So what was an honest woman in love with Dr. Sam to do?When his fiancée ran off with a married man, Sam Lawford vowed he's never be betrayed by the fairer sex again. The folks of Cooper Canyon could buzz all they wanted to about him and newcomer Kirsten Reinhold–he'd never propose marriage, not in a million years.So how had a woman who believed in a church wedding, a white gown and forever gotten Dr. Sam down that aisle?



Table of Contents
Cover Page (#u1e67175c-c4ef-50a0-905d-cf77621b5c07)
Excerpt (#u9619ebf1-622e-5d4b-b103-72b0b79134d0)
Dear Reader (#ulink_d147d1f2-f84a-5ef6-b821-1c7684622dfc)
Title Page (#ud9ac3a8e-2680-5b41-b40c-e86066265605)
Dedication (#u69a77317-46d3-596a-ab09-b43295aa7014)
About the Author (#ua890bbce-a46b-55bd-809a-09b1073756f6)
Chapter One (#uf4cb4c76-1b08-5c85-b853-a5693a028fd5)
Chapter Two (#u5c6cea83-7f2b-54b7-923a-68d7b03dba63)
Chapter Three (#ud27590e0-8c67-5e6c-ac92-ecb960f34e24)
Chapter Four (#u8fa3f613-faa1-53a6-a9be-f34f0903a1f5)
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)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

It was becoming more and more obvious by the moment that he could never have a superficial romance with Kirsten Reinhold.
He wasn’t sure what it was about her that attracted him so, but he meant to put a stop to it before things got out of control.

He should have let well enough alone right from the beginning and stayed away from her. But no, he had to play with fire and pursue her.

He’d known that the feelings she aroused in him were dangerous, but instead of facing that fact and beating a hasty retreat he’d denied it. He’d told himself she was a sexy lady and he was single and available. If they lit sparks off one another, fine. If not, there was no harm done.

No harm? Ha! He’d vastly overestimated his ability to casually light a fuse without setting off a bomb.

Dear Reader (#ulink_7444c182-336a-5fe8-b59b-1fe1996314e4),
This April, let Silhouette Romance shower you with treats. We’ve got must-read miniseries, bestselling authors and tons of happy endings!

The nonstop excitement begins with Marie Ferrarella’s contribution to BUNDLES OF JOY. A single dad finds himself falling for his live-in nanny—who’s got a baby of her own. So when a cry interrupts a midnight kiss, the question sure to be asked is Your Baby or Mine?
TWINS ON THE DOORSTEP, a miniseries about babies who bring love to the most unsuspecting couples, begins with The Sheriff’s Son. Beloved author Stella Bagwell weaves a magical tale of secrets and second chances.
Also set to march down the aisle this month is the second member of THE SINGLE DADDY CLUB. Donna Clayton, winner of the prestigious Holt Medallion, brings you the story of a desperate daddy and the pampered debutante who becomes a Nanny in the Nick of Time.
SURPRISE BRIDES, a series about unexpected weddings, continues with Laura Anthony’s Look-Alike Bride. This classic amnesia plot line has a new twist: Everyone believes a plain Jane is really a Hollywood starlet— including the actress’s exfiancé!
Rounding out the month is the heartwarming A Wife for Doctor Sam by Phyllis Halldorson, the story of a small town doctor who’s vowed never to fall in love again. And Sally Carleen’s Porcupine Ranch, about a housekeeper who knows nothing about keeping house, but knows exactly how to keep her sexy boss happy!
Enjoy!

Melissa Senate
Senior Editor
Silhouette Romance
Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

A Wife for Dr. Sam
Phyllis Halldorson


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For all you talented writers and teachers who have been in critique groups with me over the years, and have given so unstintingly of your time and expertise to set me on the right track and keep me there. I won’t attempt to name you, but I know who you are and I am grateful beyond words.

PHYLLIS HALLDORSON
met her real-life Prince Charming at the age of sixteen. She married him a year later, and they settled down to raise a family. A compulsive reader, Phyllis dreamed of someday finding the time to write stories of her own. That time came when her two youngest children reached adolescence. When she was introduced to romance novels, she knew she had found her long-delayed vocation. After all, how could she write anything else after living all those years with her very own Silhouette hero?

Chapter One (#ulink_e7e2145d-89b3-5c4d-a960-9a3af1265e32)
The road sign on the outskirts of Grangeville, Idaho, read: Copper Canyon, 10 Miles, and Kirsten Reinhold’s excitement mounted. According to the directions Coralie had sent, the Buckley family farm was five miles on the other side of the small town of Copper Canyon so that meant she would arrive at her destination in about twenty minutes.
She pressed her foot harder on the gas pedal. This was the day she’d looked forward to for more than two months. She would see her best friend, Coralie Dixon, and finally meet Coralie’s new husband, Jim Buckley.
A loud roar of static interrupted the country-music program on the car radio and startled Kirsten. There were no other cars on the road, and she slowed down to look at the dashboard for the off knob when a sudden impact jolted her forward and sent her car skidding across to the opposite side of the road. She was too surprised and shaken to do anything but clench the steering wheel and hope the car would stop before going into the ditch.
It did, just barely, but her mind had gone blank and her fingers seemed to be frozen around the steering wheel. Badly shaken, she rested her forehead against the rim and tried to pull herself together. That was why she didn’t see the man jump out of the automobile she’d hit to rush across the empty road and open her door.
“Are you hurt, miss?” he asked anxiously.
Slowly she straightened up and looked at him. He was fairly young, mid-thirties, with short, curly brown hair and troubled brown eyes flecked with green. “N-no, I don’t think so. What…what happened?”
The concern in his expression turned to a frown of annoyance. “You ran a four-way stop and smashed into my brand-new car,” he grumbled. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?”
She blinked in confusion and looked beyond him to see a white BMW crosswise in the middle of the highway, with a dent in the fender on the passenger side. “But there were no other cars around, and I just glanced down to turn off the radio.”
“Then you didn’t look closely enough,” he scolded. “I was driving on the side road. I saw you coming, but I expected you to stop at the sign.” His anger was heating up.
“I didn’t see the sign,” she wailed. “I had no idea—”
“If you don’t start paying more attention to your driving instead of fiddling with the damn radio, you’re going to have a real smashup one of these days.” His tone was gruff. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said, although she knew that wasn’t altogether true. She wasn’t injured, but she was shaking so badly that she doubted if she could stand.
Then a frightening thought occurred to her. She carried only the minimum amount of car insurance required by law in California where she lived. She doubted it would fully cover any large bills. “How about you? Were you hurt?” she asked, growing concerned.
“No,” he snapped. “But if you’d been going just a little faster we both could have been. Step out of the car, please.”
“Out of the car? But why?” She didn’t really want to try to stand up yet. She was afraid her quaking knees wouldn’t hold her.
“Because I need to make sure you have enough wits about you to drive without plowing into any more vehicles,” he said angrily.
Kirsten knew she was at fault, but he didn’t need to be so cranky. “Of course I’m okay to drive,” she insisted. “We didn’t collide very hard.”
To prove her point she turned in her seat and put her feet on the ground, then pulled herself up by hanging on to the open door. Her legs were rubbery and she felt a little light-headed, but she wasn’t about to admit it. The quicker she could get rid of this man and be on her way, the better. So far she hadn’t seen any other cars go by.
He looked at his watch, muttered something impatiently, then stepped back several feet along the road and called to her. “Walk over here to me.”
This man was getting to be a real pain, she thought. “I told you, I’m just fine. You don’t need to worry about me,” she called huffily.
“Maybe so,” he answered, “but please do as I say. I have important appointments to keep.”
There was a no-nonsense quality to his tone that indicated he was used to having his orders obeyed, and she was sure it would just be a waste of time to argue.
Taking a deep breath she put one foot in front of the other, then let loose of the door and started toward him. The road surface was rough and her dizziness increased, but she continued to concentrate on not stumbling.
She was almost there when she stepped into a pothole and was thrown off balance. Gasping, she threw out her arms as the man caught her and held her close against him. Her flailing arms circled his neck and she buried her face in his shoulder and clung.
He was strong and muscular, and there was a faint woodsy aroma about him. She wasn’t sure if it was shaving lotion or just the natural scent of the mountain forest.
She was still trembling, but didn’t know if it was shock from the collision or pleasure aroused by the protectiveness of his embrace.
But it wasn’t an embrace. He was simply holding her up to keep her from falling flat on her face. What on earth was the matter with her anyway? It wasn’t as though she’d never been held by a man before.
He didn’t seem in any hurry to let her go, but that was probably because he wasn’t sure what to do with her.
Reluctantly, she raised her head, unwound her arms and pushed gently away from him. Her dizziness had receded, but still the man kept one arm around her waist as they walked back to her car.
“I…I just stumbled,” she assured him. “I really am okay, but thanks for your concern. By the way, shouldn’t we exchange names and addresses? My insurance will pay for the damages to your BMW.”
As soon as she uttered the words she knew she’d spoken unwisely. She shouldn’t have admitted to being at fault until she talked to her insurer.
They reached her four-year-old navy blue Mustang, and he withdrew his arm from around her and reached in his inside coat pocket. “I’m in a hurry,” he said as he withdrew a business card and handed it to her. “If you’ll just write down your name, address and the name of your insurance company I’ll get back to you later. You do live around here, don’t you?”
She unzipped her purse and tossed his card inside, then rummaged around until she found a note tablet and pencil. “No, I don’t,” she answered, “but I’m visiting here for the next few weeks. I’ll give you that address, too.”
She scribbled the information on a sheet of the tablet, tore it off and folded it, then handed it to him. He shoved it in his pocket then helped her into the car and shut the door. “Start the engine,” he said.
She turned the key and the motor purred.
“Looks like it will run okay,” he observed. “You go on ahead. I’ll stay behind you until we get to Copper Canyon to make sure it doesn’t stall.” He backed away from the vehicle. “I’ll be in touch, and for God’s sake watch where you’re going.”
True to his word he followed behind her until they came to the pretty little village, almost hidden from the road by huge old evergreen and shade trees. Then he turned off on one of the side streets while she kept going on the main artery through the town and beyond.
A few miles later she saw the rural mailbox labeled Buckley and turned onto the long driveway that led to the white two-story farmhouse surrounded by trees. There were several outbuildings, including a big red barn. Everything looked just as Coralie had described it in her letters and phone calls.
Kirsten parked beside the house and got out, but as she came around the back of the car she heard a screen door open and close and Coralie came bouncing down the front steps, a welcome smile on her face and her arms out-stretched. The two friends hugged, then leaned back to look at each other.
Kirsten had never seen Coralie look so happy. She positively glowed, and there was no need to ask if her marriage was all she’d expected it to be. It obviously was. Her straight blond hair was still shoulder length and parted in the middle, but now she had it tied back with a scarf, and her deep blue eyes sparkled with happiness.
“You’re positively radiant,” Kirsten told her. “I guess your pen-pal farmer turned out to be Prince Charming in disguise.”
Coralie laughed with delight. “You better believe it,” she agreed. “Just wait till you meet him. I’ve got the perfect man for you, too.”
“Oh, no,” Kirsten said with a grin. “If you’re talking about your husband’s best friend, Dr. Sam, whom you’ve written so much about, you can forget it. I’m not looking to be fixed up with a groom, either homegrown or mail-order. I’m content to bask in your happiness.”
“That’s nonsense,” Coralie said, “and you know it. Happiness isn’t contagious, it can’t be caught. You have to experience your own, and as I’ve told you, Sam Lawford is an ideal candidate for a husband. He’s almost as handsome as my Jim, plus since he’s one of only two physicians in town his financial future is assured. Even more important, he’s one of the nicest, most considerate men I’ve ever met. Next to Jim, of course.”
Kirsten opened her mouth to protest, but Coralie’s chatter didn’t skip a beat. “Besides, everything’s all set up. I’ve invited him for supper tonight so you two can meet. You’ve only got a month to get to know each other,” she added. “There’s no time to waste.”
Kirsten could see that she might as well accept the inevitable. After all, Coralie was her hostess, so she couldn’t very well be rude and refuse to go along with her plans.
“All right,” she said, striving for a light tone. “But I work with physicians all the time. Couldn’t you have fixed me up with someone different? Maybe a plumber or a banker?”
They both laughed, but Kirsten quickly sobered. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but please, don’t push this matchmaking bit If there’s a special man out there for me I’ll find him without anyone’s help.”
Coralie apparently caught the wariness in Kirsten’s voice, and her radiance faded a bit as her gaze roamed more inquiringly over her friend. “You’ve lost weight,” she observed with a frown. “And you didn’t have any to lose. You look pale, Kirsten, and tired. I can see why your doctor wouldn’t let you go back to work for another month. Do you still have that last spot of pneumonia on your lung?”
Kirsten grimaced. She didn’t like being reminded that she’d been seriously ill during the past two months. “You never forget that you’re a nurse, do you?” she grumbled affectionately. “Well, I’m a nurse, too, so please accept the fact I know what I’m talking about when I tell you the virus has been wiped out, the pneumonia is all cleared up and the asthma attacks are under control. The only reason I can’t return to work at the hospital right now is because my immune system has been weakened and the doctor doesn’t want me exposed to all the germs that float around a medical facility.”
“Yeah, well…” Coralie sounded unconvinced. “I’m going to see to it that you get plenty of rest and healthy meals during the month you’ll be here. Right now, though, come meet my two beautiful stepdaughters.”
Inside the house was just as old-fashioned and homey as it was on the outside. The rooms were large, the ceilings high and the furniture mostly antiques that had been in the family for generations. The air was redolent with the aroma of roasting beef, and Kirsten remembered that they served dinner at midday on the farm.
Coralie proudly introduced her stepdaughters. Gloria was fifteen, tall with dark brown hair and brown eyes, and Amber, at thirteen, was short with blond hair and blue eyes. It wasn’t easy to tell who were the daughters and who was the stepmother. It was on the tip of Kirsten’s tongue to tease them about it, but she stopped herself just in time when she remembered that the almost thirteen-year age difference between Coralie and her husband was a sore subject with Jim.
According to Coralie he’d fought against falling in love with her because of it, and even though they were now married he was still embarrassed when someone mistook his new wife for one of his daughters.
Instead, she told the girls how pleased she was to meet them, and how much she was looking forward to her visit.
“I know you’re eager to meet Jim,” Coralie told Kirsten, “but he’s out working in the fields. He’ll be home in about an hour for dinner, and I’ve got the pot roast, potatoes and carrots cooking in a roaster in the oven. Gloria and Amber will do the last-minute things, so why don’t we go over to Jim’s dad’s house and get you settled in?”
“I’d love to,” Kirsten said enthusiastically. “Are you sure your father-in-law doesn’t mind me staying there?”
Coralie’s eyebrows rose. “Buck? Of course not. He’s happy to have somebody occupying it while he’s gone. The only thing he’s upset about is that he probably won’t be back from his old army buddies’ reunion in Missouri in time to meet you.”
Coralie had a last-minute discussion about dinner preparations with the girls, then joined Kirsten as they left the house and walked out to the car. It was only then that Coralie noticed the dents in the front fender and grille, which had been partially hidden by the shrubbery along the driveway.
“Kirsten, what happened to your car?” she asked. “Those dents look new.”
“They are,” Kirsten admitted. “I had a fender bender with another car between here and Grangeville.” She went ahead to explain what had happened. “I can’t deny it was my fault,” she concluded, “and the man I hit was really mad. I just hope my insurance will cover all the damage.”
Coralie looked at her askance. “You did exchange names, phone numbers and insurance companies, didn’t you? Who was he? Maybe Jim knows him.”
“Oh, yeah, we did all that,” Kirsten assured her. “He gave me a business card, but I tossed it in my purse without reading it. I’ll show it to you later.”
The two women took Kirsten’s car and drove approximately a city block through wheat fields to a beige cottage neatly trimmed in brown, which was set in the middle of a grove of huge, old shade trees. It was far enough away from the big house for privacy, but close enough to ensure against loneliness.
The cottage was considerably newer than the house and consisted of a living room, kitchen, two bedrooms and a bath. All the rooms were small, but it was ideal for one or two people. Kirsten and Coralie chatted happily as they unpacked Kirsten’s suitcases and put her clothes away.
“So, how are things back in Eureka?” Coralie asked as she put a stack of pastel-colored silk panties in a drawer.
“Well, we haven’t had any more of those California earthquakes that drove you away,” Kirsten answered.
Coralie shivered. “Thank God for that. After losing everything for the third time in six years in that last one, I just couldn’t stay in California any longer.”
“So you answered an advertisement in a magazine for a mail-order wife and wound up marrying the handsome hunk who placed the ad and living on a farm in Idaho,” Kirsten teased.
Coralie laughed. “It wasn’t as simple as that, as you very well know, but if I hadn’t run away from earthquakes I would never have met the man who turned out to be the love of my life.” She sobered. “And Jim is that, Kirsten. I firmly believe we were destined to be together.”
Now it was Kirsten who shivered. Was it possible that some couples were bound together by destiny?

Dr. Sam Lawford turned off the shower and reached for a towel, which he rubbed briskly over his trim, wet body, then knotted around his waist. As usual he was running late. He’d hoped to have time to unwind with a leisurely bath and a long, cool drink to revitalize his flagging energy. Instead, Thad Tucker’s youngest boy had stumbled while running with a wicked-looking knife in his hand, which his parents didn’t know he had, and Sam had spent the hour he’d saved for relaxation cleaning out the cut in the kid’s arm and putting five stitches in it.
Now he had just ten minutes to dress and drive out to the Buckley farm, if he was to arrive at the appointed time of six o’clock. Obviously that was impossible. He slapped shaving lotion on his newly shaved face, and rummaged in the dresser drawer for clean underwear.
What he really wanted to do was stay home, fix himself a thick turkey sandwich and stretch out with the new detective novel he’d received from the book club the week before. The last thing he wanted was to go to Jim and Coralie’s for supper. He loved Jim like a brother, and Coralie was a real sweetheart when she wasn’t singing the praises of her best friend, Kirsten something-or-other, whom he was supposed to meet for the first time tonight.
Sam hated blind dates, and it annoyed him no end when the wives of his friends insisted on playing matchmaker. He was perfectly capable of finding his own companions, and he had no intention of getting married.
He selected a pair of brown slacks and a short-sleeved green plaid shirt to wear. While summers in the mountains of Idaho were fairly mild, it was still too warm to be comfortable in a tie and sport coat. He wasn’t out to impress Ms. Whatever-her-name-was.
When he’d finished dressing, he ventured outside and was again jolted by the sight of the crumpled fender on his BMW. He’d only had it for a week, and in that time he’d protected and sheltered it like a baby. Then, in the blink of an eyelid, that sexy young airhead who didn’t have sense enough to keep her eyes on the road had run a stop sign and crumpled one side of its shiny white magnificence.
His rage ignited again. She had no business driving a car. She was a menace on the road. Who had issued her a driver’s license in the first place?
It was probably a man. All she would have to do was pout and bat her long, thick eyelashes at a man, and he would give her anything she wanted. Sam figured he should know. She’d even had him going there for a while.
When she’d first looked up at him with those wide doelike eyes, he’d felt a rush of tenderness that took his breath away. She’d looked so shocked and vulnerable, and for a moment he’d had an urge to take her in his arms and assure her that she was innocent of any wrongdoing. That he would take care of everything, if she would just smile at him.
He snorted with self-disgust as he backed the battered car out of the driveway. He’d been so swamped with patients all day that he hadn’t even had time to take it to the garage. Fortunately, the damage was only to the body. The V-12 engine still purred like a kitten.
As he drove down the tree-lined streets on his way out of town, his unruly mind returned to the accident and the woman responsible. Her driving skills left a lot to be desired, but her looks sure didn’t. Even though he’d been mad as hell at her at the time, he couldn’t help but notice her.
She was a real beauty. Quite tall, approximately five-seven to his five-eleven, and she’d fit into his embrace as if she’d been custom-made for him.
A wave of warmth washed over him and he groaned and shifted his thoughts back to the present. Obviously it had been too long since he’d had a date! He’d been so busy that he barely had time for sleep, let alone a social life.
But why was he attracted to this woman he didn’t even know?
Because he’d made the mistake of catching her when she stumbled, that was why. She’d snuggled into his arms, so soft, so warm and inviting, and she’d smelled faintly of lilacs, his favorite floral scent. He’d held her close and had a hard time letting her go when she pulled away from him.
Then another thought caught him off balance. Could that fall have been deliberate? Had she been using her femininity to distract him and make him feel protective?
Sure she could have. Not only could have, but probably did. She’d no doubt been bewitching males all her life, to get what she wanted.
Well, he’d learned his lesson early on, and he wasn’t going to be caught in that particular hell again. He had good reason to distrust women.
A few minutes later he turned off the two-lane country road onto the Buckleys’ driveway. There was the usual assortment of automobiles, trucks and farm machinery scattered around the barnyard, and he paid little attention as he stopped near the front of the house.
Before he got to the top of the steps the screen door was flung open and Coralie walked out grinning happily. “Well, if it isn’t the late Dr. Sam,” she said gaily. “What was it this time? Mandy Hoover’s overdue baby, or old Mr. Proctor’s rheumatism?”
“Neither one, smarty,” he said as he gave her a friendly hug. “It was the Tuckers’ youngest son. He fell while running with a knife, and I had to put sutures in his arm. How long before we eat? I’m starved.”
Coralie laughed and disengaged herself as she turned toward the door. “I’m not going to feed you until I’ve introduced you to my best friend in all the world,” she said as she walked into the house with Sam right behind her.
The sun was still bright, and it took him a few seconds to adjust his eyes to the darker living room. As he blinked, Coralie indicated a woman who had just risen from the couch and was standing a couple of feet away.
“Sam, I want you to meet my friend, Kirsten Reinhold,” she said, and there was excitement in her tone. “Kirsten, this is Sam Lawford, the doctor I’ve told you so much about.”
One final blink cleared Sam’s vision, and he saw himself gazing into those same doelike brown eyes that had been haunting him since this morning.
Kirsten Reinhold was the airhead who had trashed his brand-new car!

Chapter Two (#ulink_895bae29-7e2b-506e-9587-f3a36087b993)
“No!”
“No!”
Their denials were spoken in unison, even in perfect harmony, as though a conductor had lowered his baton to signal the first fortissimo notes of a fiery duet.
But this was no duet. It was an anguished protest to a fate that seemed intent on bedeviling two nice, unsuspecting people caught in a web of circumstances through no fault of their own.
“You are Kirsten Reinhold? The angel of mercy and paragon of virtue whose praise Coralie has been singing to me for months?” Sam sputtered.
“And you… You are Sam Lawford? The world’s most eligible bachelor, who only needs the right woman to turn him into the world’s most perfect husband?” Kirsten stammered sarcastically. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were this morning?”
“Why didn’t I? I did. I gave you my business card. Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”
She couldn’t believe he could be so obtuse. “I did. I wrote it all out on a piece of paper and handed it to you. It’s not my fault you didn’t look at it.”
Her sense of fair play finally caught up with her, and she sighed. “Although, I…I have to admit I didn’t read your card, either.”
A second male voice boomed through the room. “What’s going on here?”
It was Jim Buckley. In the few hours she’d been at the farm, Kirsten found him to be every bit as handsome and loving toward his family as Coralie had said. And he was just plain nice. Now he was standing next to Coralie, and they both looked surprised and perplexed.
Kirsten was the first to offer an explanation. “This…this is the man who was involved in the accident with me on the road this morning.” Her tone still rang with resentment.
“She caved in the whole side of my car,” Sam inter-jected, angrily.
“I did no such thing.” Her denial was heated. “It was only a slight dent in the front fender. The way you carry on you’d think I’d run over one of your children.”
“I don’t have any children, but I’ve only had that car for a week. Six days to be exact,” he said, fuming. “I had to go all the way to Boise to find a BMW dealership, and it hardly had a fingerprint on it until you came roaring down the road and rammed into it.”
Kirsten’s mouth dropped open. “Roaring down the road!” she raged. “I was barely moving. Twenty miles an hour at the most when you came out of nowhere and drove right in front of me—”
“Whoa there, take it easy!” Jim interrupted as he stepped between the two combatants. “Let’s cool down a little and find out what really happened.” He nodded to Kirsten. “Okay, you first.”
Belatedly Kirsten realized that both she and Sam were being rude, to say nothing of tacky, by waging their quarrel in the home of their host and hostess. She was regretful and embarrassed, but they’d gone too far now not to try to settle it.
She recounted how she’d taken her eyes off the road for just a second to turn off the radio. “I don’t know where he came from. There wasn’t a car in sight when I looked,” she concluded.
“You claim you didn’t see the stop sign, either,” Sam pointed out, “so you couldn’t have even looked to the sides of the road.”
Kirsten knew what he said was undoubtedly true, and she would have admitted it if he’d been reasonable. But he wasn’t reasonable, so she wasn’t going to be either. She’d already apologized, and she wasn’t about to do it again.
“I did, too—” she started to insist, but again Jim interrupted.
“Now hold on a minute, both of you.” Jim’s tone was stern. “Kirsten, you’ve told your side of the story, now let Sam tell his.” He looked at the other man. “Okay, pal, go ahead.”
Sam wished he’d used more restraint when he first realized that Coralie’s friend and houseguest was the woman who’d bashed in his car. Unfortunately he’d shot off his mouth, and now all he could do was take a deep breath and try to control his aggravation. “I had a full schedule of patients at my office this morning when I had to drop everything and hurry out to Chester Atkinson’s farm to help one of his cows deliver a calf that was turned wrong and couldn’t be expelled…”
“A calf?” Kirsten broke in, too astonished to be polite. “I thought you were an M.D.!”
He looked at her and nodded brusquely. “I am, but there’s only one veterinarian in this whole area, and he had to fly back East a couple of days ago to attend the funeral of a family member, so I was the next best thing. Delivering baby animals isn’t that much different from delivering baby humans, and without medical intervention both the cow and the calf would have died.”
Kirsten was stunned by an unexpected rush of admiration for this pugnacious man. She’d worked with a lot of physicians, but she doubted that any of them would have interrupted office hours to make a house call way out in the country to deliver a calf!
“Are they all right?” she asked softly.
He nodded and smiled. “Yeah. All the little guy needed was to be repositioned and he popped right out.”
He looked altogether different when he smiled. His cold brown eyes warmed and softened, and his whole expression lightened. For the first time she saw the slight indentations of dimples on either side of his mouth.
Was it possible she’d misjudged him? If he’d had an office full of sick patients waiting for him to return from an emergency house call, it was no wonder he’d been so harried and impatient with her. She’d delayed his return even longer, as well as damaging his new car.
“That…that’s very commendable of you, Doctor,” she said, suddenly shy as she basked in the warmth of his smile. “I’m a nurse, and I don’t know any physicians who make house calls for humans, let alone animals.”
He chuckled, and there was a sensual sound to it that made her tingle. “I assure you, going to the cow was the only way to handle the situation. Can you just imagine the reaction of my waiting room full of patients if Farmer Atkinson had led his bellowing pregnant bovine into their midst?” He extended his hand. “And please, call me Sam.”
She put her hand in his. His was smooth and well cared for, as most doctors’ hands were, but it was also hard and muscular and his grip was strong.
Their gazes met, and for the first time he was looking at her as an attractive woman instead of an incompetent ditz who couldn’t even steer a car down a deserted highway without running into his new and expensive toy.
“All right, Sam,” she said. “And I’m Kirsten. Coralie’s told me so much about you that I feel as if I already know you.”
He still held her hand, and she couldn’t seem to summon the willpower to pull it out of his grasp.
“Did she tell you that I sometimes act like a real jerk?” he asked seriously.
“No, that came as a surprise,” she blurted and felt the hot blush of embarrassment stain her face as soon as she realized what she’d said. “Oh, I mean…That is…”
He squeezed her hand and released it. “Don’t apologize,” he admonished her. “I had that coming. I’ve been acting like a spoiled five-year-old throwing a tantrum because one of my playthings got broken. I am sorry. I’m not usually so impatient and childish. It must have been the pressure of time constraints. I’ve been literally running from one patient to another all day long, and I’m afraid I got my priorities screwed up. Will you please forgive me?”
There was a twinkle in his deep-set eyes, and she would have forgiven him anything. “Of course,” she agreed readily, “if you’ll forgive me for damaging your beautiful car.”
He shrugged. “It’s nothing a little bodywork won’t fix.”
He was being amazingly casual about the accident, considering how upset he’d been just a few minutes earlier.
Coralie finally spoke from her position beside Kirsten. “If you two have settled the matter of who did what to whom, we’d better sit down to supper before everything gets cold.”
For the next couple of hours Kirsten thoroughly enjoyed herself. The food she and Coralie had prepared was delicious; Jim was a gracious host; his daughters were bright and well mannered, and Dr. Sam Lawford had made a lightning change from ogre to charmer.
Her innate good sense told her she shouldn’t be captivated by his illusive charm, but she couldn’t help herself. He was seated next to her at the table, and she was again aware of the fresh, clean aroma of the forest that she’d noticed that morning. The scent was uniquely his and it drew her attention no matter how hard she tried to ignore it.
Contrary to Coralie’s efforts at matchmaking, Kirsten hadn’t come to Idaho to find a groom. Oh, her long-term goal was to settle down with a husband and children, but she’d only recently celebrated her twenty-sixth birthday, and there were still a lot of things she wanted to do before she got to that point.
She wanted to advance in her profession. She loved nursing, and hoped someday to go back to school to become a nurse-practitioner. She also wanted to travel, to see the world a little at a time: Europe, Asia, and especially Scandinavia where her dad’s family had its roots. Her parents were middle-class people who had trouble making ends meet, so she’d had to put herself through college with scholarships and part-time jobs.
Now she wanted to be free, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t date and have fun. Far from it. She had a very satisfactory social life in Eureka and dated often, but never exclusively with one man. She had many male friends, but drew the line at taking any of them as lovers.

Sam finished his strawberry shortcake smothered in fresh whipped cream and sank back with a contented sigh. Coralie had moved the adults into the comfort of the living room before serving dessert, but Gloria and Amber had taken theirs and gone upstairs to watch television in their rooms.
He and Kirsten were seated together on the sofa. If she hadn’t been wearing a full-skirted cotton dress that billowed on either side, their hips would have been touching. His thigh muscles twitched at the thought, and it was all he could do to keep his hand from inching over to caress her leg.
He hated to admit it to himself, but his usual keen assessment of people had been really flawed this time. Kirsten Reinhold was neither airheaded nor conniving. She was not only beautiful, as he’d discovered this morning before he knew who she was, but she was also well above average in intelligence and shared many of his interests. They were both trained in medicine, but they also shared a love of country-and-western music, mystery novels and the Oakland A’s.
There was one thing he’d been right about this morning, however. She was one sexy lady! Not flashy or blatant. She did nothing to call attention to herself, but there was a warmth about her, a radiant appeal that drew him like a magnet and made him itch to touch her, hold her as he had for a few moments that morning when she had literally fallen into his arms, and caress the soft curves of her high breasts, small waist and enticing hips.
A wave of heat rolled through him and brought him back to reality with a thud. Damn! What was the matter with him? He was behaving more like a lusty teenager than an analytical physician who knew exactly what he did and didn’t want in his life.
He definitely did not want Kirsten Reinhold! She would be a surefire impediment to his peace of mind.
Coralie and Jim were describing their wedding to Kirsten, and Sam jumped into the conversation at the first opportunity. “Coralie was so disappointed when you were unable to be maid of honor,” he told Kirsten. “She said you were ill.”
Kirsten nodded. “Yes, I was. It started with flulike symptoms that I couldn’t seem to shake. I kept on working until one day I could hardly crawl out of bed, and then I went to the doctor. By that time it had gone into pneumonia, complicated by attacks of asthma. I was in and out of the hospital for more than a month.”
Concern and impatience warred in Sam as she talked. “Good Lord, woman,” he growled. “You’re a nurse. You must have known better than to ignore an illness that severe.”
He saw an answering impatience in her snapping brown eyes. “You’re right, Doctor, but tell me something. How long does it take you to seek medical advice when you’re sick?”
She had him there. “It doesn’t apply to me. I’m a physician,” he said evasively. “I can diagnose my own illnesses. Besides, I’m never sick.”
“Neither am I,” she drawled, “and as a nurse I recognized the symptoms of viral influenza, but in the beginning they are also symptoms of a bad cold, and that’s what I thought I had. By the time I realized it was more serious, I had pneumonia along with it.”
He frowned. “And the asthma? Is it chronic?”
She shook her head. “I never had it before in my life. At least, not that I know of. My doctor says I probably did, but like this time always thought it was a cold. Anyway, I had to take two courses of antibiotics to clear up the pneumonia, and steroids for the asthma.”
He wished she wouldn’t bait him to anger and then make him feel like a brute when he responded. “And did they clear up the pneumonia and the asthma? Are you well now?”
She nodded, but still kept her eyes downcast. “Yes.”
He had an overwhelming desire to put his fingers under her chin and lift her face so she would have to look at him, but he didn’t trust himself to touch her. “Then your doctor has given you a clean bill of health?”
Apparently she was going to make him pull the information out of her a word or sentence at a time.
“Not quite.” She spoke in little more than a whisper. “My immune system has been weakened, and he won’t give me an okay to go back to work until next month.”
Relief washed through Sam, and he tried for a lighter tone. “You have a smart physician. No doubt he told you to get plenty of rest and not to exert yourself?”
She did look up at him then and smiled. “Well, not exactly. What he said was to absorb plenty of sunshine and fresh air, but Eureka is on the ocean and the climate is damp and chilly most of the time—even in the summer. Coralie and Jim offered me the use of Jim’s dad’s house while he’s gone, so I’m looking forward to breaking some horses and plowing the back forty.”
She laughed and everyone laughed with her, but Sam wasn’t altogether sure she was teasing.
Although the company was great and the conversation stimulating, by ten o’clock Sam was bone weary. It had been a long, busy, emotion-filled day, and if by some miracle he wasn’t wakened during the night by a phone call he still had early appointments in the morning.
Besides, he could see that Kirsten was as exhausted as he. She’d only arrived this morning from California, which meant that she must have been on the road for the better part of three days. He would bet his practice her doctor hadn’t approved that trip!
At the next break in the conversation he stifled a yawn and stood up. “I hate to break up the evening,” he said with real regret, “but if you’ll excuse me I’m going home to try for a couple of hours’ sleep before someone else’s cow has an obstetrical emergency.”
They all laughed and stood up, too. “It’s past my bedtime, also,” Kirsten said. She was standing next to him, so close that the back of his hand brushed her skirt and sent tingles up his spine. “I’ll help you with the dishes,” she said to Coralie, “and then I’m going to the cottage.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Coralie admonished. “The girls have already cleared the table. All I have to do is stack the dishwasher, but since you left your car at Buck’s and walked over, I’ll drive you back to his house first. You do look tired.”
“I’ll drop her off,” Sam offered. After all, it was the polite thing to do, so why did his instinct warn him to shut up and leave? Let someone else take this cuddly kitten to her bedroom. He didn’t want her sharp, little claws digging into him.
“That’s not necessary,” Kirsten protested. “It’s only about a block away. I can walk—”
“No you can’t, city girl,” Sam said, totally ignoring his better sense. “You’re not in town now. There are no street-lights, and you can’t wander around a strange rural area in the dark.” He eyed her feet. “Especially not in those high heels.”
She knew he was right and didn’t resist when he took her arm and turned them toward the door. “I’ll deliver you to your house. I don’t want to be called out in the middle of the night to set your broken bones after a fall on this rough terrain.”
After friendly good-nights and thank-yous, Sam put Kirsten in his damaged car and within seconds they arrived at her destination. He shut off the motor and escorted her up to the house in the dark.
Kirsten was having second thoughts about her earlier attitude toward him. They’d both been rattled by the collision and had lashed out at each other in anger, without either giving the other the benefit of the doubt.
Since Sam and Jim were almost as close as brothers, she knew it would cause a lot of tension and dissension if she and Sam spent the next month sniping at each other. It was time for them to have a private talk and try to banish their animosity toward one another.
“Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?” she asked as she inserted her key in the lock.
Sam was surprised by the invitation. Her voice was low and husky, and the wave of heat he’d felt earlier returned in force.
Would he? Damn right he would! And so would any other hot-blooded man she issued the invitation to. Was she coming on to him? Had she decided to play along with Coralie’s matchmaking scheme for them after all?
No, he couldn’t believe that. She seemed rather naive. She probably didn’t realize what a late-night invitation like that so often implied. “Thank you, but may I take a rain check? You need your rest, and so do I.”
That was a laugh. She’d just blown any thoughts of sleep out of the water for him.
The moon was bright enough that he could see her expression. She looked neither surprised nor disappointed as she opened the door. Instead she cleared her throat and said, “I noticed that Mr. Buckley’s well-stocked cupboards include coffee, tea and cookies,” she said flirtatiously.
Damn it, she was coming on to him. His stomach muscles clenched in a combination of interest and anger. He hadn’t been so wrong about her this morning after all. Apparently she was going to play Coralie’s game and look for a husband while she was here.
Well, he wasn’t going to be titillated into marriage by any woman. “Kirsten, we have to talk.” He tried to keep the anger out of his tone, but he wasn’t succeeding.
He could see that she looked pleased. “All right, but let’s go inside. We’d be more comfortable in the house than standing out here on the doorstep.”
He sighed. She obviously wasn’t going to make this easy for him. She must know that she had the power to convince him she was innocent of any wrongdoing even as she seduced him, and apparently she intended to use it. Fortunately, he wasn’t as gullible as she thought.
“I’m sure we would be,” he grated. “It would also make it easier for you to entice me into believing anything you wanted me to, but you might as well give up. I have no interest in getting married, either now or in the future.”
This time she did react, and he had to give her credit for being a skilled actress. She truly looked dismayed and uncomprehending. “I don’t—” she exclaimed, but he cut her off.
“Please, Kirsten, I know all about Coralie’s plan to get you and me together. She thinks everyone has to be married to be truly happy, and since she found her true love through a personal ad she’s decided to help you in your quest for a husband by being your matrimonial agent. What I can’t figure out is why you’d go along with it. It’s hard to believe that you can’t find a husband on your own.”
She gasped and blinked those expressive brown eyes. “I’m not looking for a husband,” she protested vehemently. “And if I were I wouldn’t need anyone’s help finding one. I’m aware of what she’s up to, and I’ve told her I’m not interested, but if you knew Coralie as well as you think you do you’d know that she’s not easily dissuaded. She has only the best of intentions and I don’t like to be rude, so I just let her prattle on and ignore all her well-meant advice.”
She sounded so indignantly sincere that his first impulse was to back down and apologize, but that was exactly what she wanted. She even fluttered her long, thick eyelashes to make him think she was blinking back tears.
He drew a deep breath and hardened his resolve. “You’re good. You really are,” he said. “For a while there tonight you actually had me believing that you were as resistant to the interference as I am, but then you made the mistake of trying to seduce me.”
He saw the flush of heat that turned her face red, but he was too late to deflect the full cutting force of her rage. “Why you arrogant bastard!” Her voice was low and filled with scorn. “Since when does an invitation to come in for coffee after a pleasant evening translate into a roll between the sheets? If that’s been your experience, then the women around here must be awfully hard up for a man.”
Sam winced. It was obvious that he’d made another horrendous mistake in judgment, but she wasn’t about to let him explain and apologize.
She turned toward the open door. “I won’t tell Jim about this because I don’t want to cause any trouble between you, but I’m going to tell Coralie in no uncertain terms that I don’t like you and do not want her to pair us together again. I’ll make every effort to see to it that we don’t run into each other for the duration of my stay here, and I expect you to do the same.”
She walked into the house and slammed the door behind her.

Chapter Three (#ulink_19a46349-da91-5c99-8e4c-a3b879176be8)
Kirsten was wakened the following morning by a loud, piercing noise that brought her to a sitting position before she even had her eyes open.
What on earth was that? She blinked to chase away the sleep-induced fog and looked at her watch. Five o’clock! What was waking her up so early? It was barely light out.
The combination screech and yodel sounded again, but this time she recognized it as the crow of a rooster. She ran her fingers through her hair and snuggled back down into the comfortable double bed in the guest room of Buck Buckley’s house.
It was a nice room, small but clean and starkly furnished in strictly male decor. A brass lamp and a serviceable alarm clock sat on the bedside chest, and a large framed print of a Remington cowboy scene hung on the dark wood wall above the bed. Directly across the room was a double chest of drawers with a wide mirror.
Kirsten sighed and closed her eyes again as the rooster continued to crow. She’d been exhausted when she went to bed the night before, but also too wrought up to sleep.
Damn Sam Lawford anyway! He’d had her totally off balance ever since their cars had collided. He’d made her feel alternately scared, guilty, anxious, angry, sorry and incompetent, and that was just in the half hour they’d spent together right after the accident.
She’d managed to calm down after arriving at the Buckley home, seeing her dear friend, Coralie, again and being welcomed into the bosom of her family. It had been so exciting that she’d even forgotten to report the accident to her insurance company, but then Dr. Sam had shown up and set her off again.
The man seemed to know exactly which buttons to push to scramble her wits! They’d finally gotten that confrontation untangled and were making friendly conversation and getting acquainted when he’d delivered her to her door and dropped that final bombshell.
Kirsten groaned and turned on her stomach to bury her face in the pillow and try to shut out the memory. Never had she been so mortified, or so furious, all at the same time. She wouldn’t have believed there was room in her 125-pound body to contain such a storm of emotion.
How could he have misunderstood her friendly overture so completely? All she’d intended was to have a quiet chat over a cup of coffee, so they could iron out any remaining wrinkles in their ill-fated friendship. She’d figured she owed him that much since she was guilty of damaging his expensive car. What had she said or done to make him think she was trying to seduce him?
Either he was an egomaniac or an idiot, and she suspected it was both!
Rolling onto her back again she stretched both arms over her head. She’d been so upset when she went to bed the previous night that she hadn’t been able to sleep. Instead she’d tossed and turned for an hour or so, then got up and rummaged through Buck’s bookcase for something to read. She’d had a choice of mystery or western, and since she’d already read all the mysteries on Buck’s shelves she settled for a shoot-’em-up western novel and read until one o’clock before her eyelids got heavy and began to close.
Now that pesky rooster was letting her know that it was time for any self-respecting farmer to be up and about. That apparently also included his wife, his children and any guests who might be lurking about. With a sigh she pushed aside the covers and more or less tumbled out of bed.
She had to have a private chat with Coralie, ASAP.

At about the same time six miles away in Copper Canyon, Sam rolled over in bed and shut off the blaring alarm clock. He was sorely tempted to lie back down and rest for just a few minutes before he got up, but he knew better than to do that.
After making a jackass of himself the previous night and insulting Kirsten, he’d tossed and turned for hours before finally falling asleep. Now he felt like a horse who’d been “rode hard and put away wet.” If he dozed off he would oversleep, and then he would be running to catch up with his schedule all day and into the night.
With a moan he forced himself out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. Years earlier when he was an intern he’d learned to brush his teeth, shave and dress while still half-asleep, and now it was more or less routine.
As he guided the electric razor over his bristly face his mind returned to the debacle with Kirsten the night before. He felt like a fool, which wasn’t surprising because he was a fool. Why else would he have been so quick to jump to the conclusion that she was trying to get him into bed when all she’d offered was coffee and cookies?
The question was rhetorical because he already knew the answer. It was her voice. That low, sexy pitch that sent shivers down his spine. That was a come-on. It had to be.
Then again she’d cleared her throat directly after she’d spoken, and she’d recently been dangerously ill with a viral infection that could easily have affected her pharynx. Her voice could have been husky because the night air still impaired her vocal quality.
He slapped the heel of his hand against his forehead and glared at himself in the mirror.
Idiot! How come that thought just occurred to you? You’re a doctor. You’re supposed to be the expert on such things. Why didn’t you figure that out last night before you opened your mouth and stuffed your foot in it?
His shoulders slumped and he turned off the razor as he muttered a barnyard oath. What was the matter with him? Why did he talk like a braying ass every time he tried to carry on a conversation with her? Nobody liked to be embarrassed by a slip of the tongue, but his tongue didn’t just slip when he talked to Kirsten. It pitched and bucked and landed him flat on his backside.
Even more important, why did it matter so much to him? He didn’t even know her. All told they’d only been together four and a half or five hours at the most. She was nothing to him but a damn nuisance, and still he felt sick when he remembered the pain and contempt in her tone as she’d delivered that last scathing and well-deserved tonguelashing to him.
No woman since Belinda had been able to hurt and upset him so deeply, and that terrified him more than anything else that had happened. He’d vowed never to set himself up for that much agony again, and up to now he’d never allowed a woman to get close enough to try. It was obvious to him that he couldn’t handle a busy medical practice and a deeply committed love affair at the same time. It had to be one or the other, and he had to make a living. Besides, his medical practice could never betray him the way a lover could.
Still, he had to apologize to Kirsten. He could never square it with his conscience if he didn’t. As soon as he had a few minutes free he would call her, tell her how sorry he was for insulting her and try to persuade her to have dinner with him as a parting gesture. A way to try to soften some of the justifiable contempt she felt for him.
For some reason it was important to him that she not always remember him as an insensitive clod.

By eight o’clock breakfast had been served at the Buckley farm, and Jim and the hired man who was replacing Buck while he was gone had left to do whatever it was they did in the fields. Amber and Gloria were still asleep, and Coralie and Kirsten were taking a breather and having a second cup of coffee at the table in the kitchen.
Kirsten wanted to talk to Coralie about Sam, but she hoped to lead up to it gradually, instead of tackling the thorny subject head-on. The problem was she couldn’t think of a way to do that, so she just asked the first question that came to mind. “What time do your stepdaughters wake up?”
Coralie chuckled. “During the school year they have to get up when Jim and I do, so we negotiated a compromise for the summer vacation. I’ve assigned each of them chores around the house that must be completed every day, but as long as they keep up with them I let them sleep as late as they want to in the mornings. So far it’s working out beautifully.”
Kirsten was surprised. “How did you get so knowledgeable about handling teenagers? As I remember from your letters, they were pretty undisciplined when you first came here.”
Coralie shuddered. “That’s an understatement, but I just think back to when I was their age and remember how I felt. Besides, they’re at a time in life when their bodies are growing and changing so fast that they need a lot of sleep.
“Jim’s daughters are very bright and mature. They’re always open to suggestions, it’s only orders they resist. But, hey, we’ve got much more exciting things to talk about than adolescent discipline.” Her eyes twinkled, and a happy smile lit her face. “I’m dying to know how you liked Sam. Did you let him kiss you good-night when he took you home?”
Kirsten sighed and took a big swallow of her coffee. She’d known Coralie would be hoping to hear that Kirsten and Sam had fallen in love at first sight, and preferably that they’d already started making wedding plans.
She hated to dash Coralie’s dream of negotiating a match made in heaven. Actually, now that there was no longer even the remotest possibility of such a thing happening, Kirsten realized that deep down she’d been more open to the idea than she’d been willing to admit, even to herself. It could have been great to live in a small country village as the wife of the town’s handsome doctor.
But not this town’s doctor! No way! Obviously Coralie didn’t know that Jim’s friend was a self-centered egotist who assumed that every woman he dated was panting to get him into bed.
Just thinking about it started her adrenaline pumping and gave her the energy to tackle the sensitive subject. “Coralie, we need to talk,” she said carefully.
“I know. So talk,” Coralie answered eagerly. “What did you think of him? Isn’t he a hunk?”
“Oh, he’s a hunk, all right,” Kirsten agreed.
“Did he ask you to go out with him?” Coralie obviously hadn’t caught the sarcasm in Kirsten’s tone.
“No, he didn’t, and if he had I’d have said no,” she answered starkly. Apparently there was no polite way she could make Coralie understand that her matchmaking was unwelcome, and Kirsten was through pussyfooting around.
Coralie’s eyes widened. “But why? Are you two still upset over that accident? Surely you can put that behind you—”
“No, it’s not that,” Kirsten interrupted. “I’m sorry but I just don’t like the man and he doesn’t like me, either.”
Coralie looked stunned. “But I don’t understand. You’re both such nice people. How could you not like each other? What happened—”
Kirsten watched as her friend stopped in midsentence and her expression turned from puzzlement to shock. “Kirsten, he didn’t try to—”
“No!” Oh Lord, this conversation was getting totally out of hand. She couldn’t let Coralie think Sam had gotten rough or physical with her. “No, Coralie, he didn’t try anything. He never laid a hand on me. Actually, sex is the last thing he’d want of me. I don’t turn him on, that’s for sure.”
Coralie shook her head in disbelief, but Kirsten hurried on. “We did quarrel, but it was strictly verbal. Like I told you, we’re just not compatible, and I’m afraid I have to insist that you forget about the matchmaking. Not only with Sam but with any man. I came here to visit you and your new family, not to find a husband. Please, honor my wishes.”
“Well, of…of course I will if that’s what you want.” Coralie sounded dazed. “I’m so sorry—” Her sentence was cut short by the sound of feet clopping down the stairs just before Amber bounded into the room.
“Good morning,” she said cheerfully. “Any chance of getting some breakfast?”
Coralie shut her mouth but seemed unable to shift her mind’s gears onto a different subject, so Kirsten managed a big smile and answered for her. “You bet. The scrambled eggs and bacon are still warm on the back of the stove, and Coralie made the most mouth-watering banana muffins.”
She pushed back her chair and stood up. “Sit down and I’ll fix you a plate.”
Amber waved her away and giggled. “Thanks, but we have rules around here. Anyone who’s not at the table when meals are served has to wait on themselves.”
Kirsten held up her hands in mock surrender. “Sorry. I wouldn’t dream of breaking any of the rules, so if you’ll all excuse me I’ll go back to my quarters and finish settling in.”
She started walking toward the back door, when Coralie’s voice stopped her. “Kirsten, I’ll be finished up here in about an hour and then I’ll come over. I want to talk to you. We have a lot to catch up on.”
Kirsten got the message. “Great. Bring a couple of those muffins and I’ll put the teakettle on.”

It was nearly ten o’clock when Coralie tapped on the door to Buck’s little house. Kirsten had spent the intervening time pacing the floor, berating herself for being so out-spoken about her dislike for Sam and wondering if she’d done irreparable harm to her treasured friendship with Coralie.
She hurried to open the door and admit her friend. “You don’t have to knock,” she said. “After all, this is your house.”
Coralie stepped inside. “It may be owned by the family corporation,” she acknowledged, “but it’s the home of whomever happens to be in residence at the time, and right now that’s you. I wouldn’t violate your privacy by just walking in.”
Kirsten uttered a wry, little laugh. “Believe me, my life’s an open book—or door as the case may be. Shall we sit over here on the sofa?”
They walked across the living room and sat down on the brown velour couch. There was also a rust-colored lounge chair and a deep leather easy chair, as well as a console television set and assorted small tables. A brick fireplace dominated the side wall, and a picture window took up most of the front one.
Coralie crossed one jeans-clad leg over the other and tried to appear relaxed, but the nervous twisting of her hands gave away her unease. Kirsten, also wearing jeans, had taken off her shoes and tucked her feet beneath her.
Coralie was the first to speak. “I…I’ve been thinking about our earlier conversation, and I’m so sorry if my good intentions seemed more like meddling—”
“No, Coralie, please,” Kirsten interrupted. “It wasn’t like that at all. It’s just that neither Sam nor I are ready for a long-term relationship with anybody. Even if we were, it wouldn’t be with each other. The chemistry’s just not right between us.”
Coralie looked thoughtful. “It’s not just you. It would have been that way with any woman I tried to fix Sam up with. I should have known better than to interfere in his hermitlike existence.”
Kirsten regretted that she’d made her friend feel guilty. All Coralie had done was introduce a man and a woman who were good friends of hers, and whom she was sure would be compatible.
“Don’t blame yourself,” Kirsten said gently. “You had no way of knowing Sam and I would be so antagonistic toward each other.”
Coralie shook her head. “That’s just it. I should have known. As I said before, it’s not you personally that he dislikes, it’s the fact that you’re a woman.”
Kirsten gasped. “You mean he doesn’t like women! But why would you—?”
Coralie looked as startled as Kirsten felt. “No, no, I didn’t mean that,” she hastened to say. “He likes women, but the one he fell in love with betrayed him and broke his heart.”
Kirsten sank back against the sofa. “Oh,” she exclaimed on a sigh. “You mean he’s divorced?”
“No, they’d been engaged for several years, but were waiting until he finished his internship before getting married.”
Kirsten found that hard to fathom. “But why—”
Coralie made a face. “Don’t ask me. Still, it’s not as if they were celibate all that time. They lived together while he was in medical school.”
Kirsten made a gesture of frustration. “I’ve never understood cohabitation. When a couple lives together, they make a strong commitment to each other whether they realize it at the time or not. They have most of the obligations of marriage but none of the legal protection, so why not take the vows?”
Coralie chuckled. “Hey, Ms. Old-Fashioned Gal, come on down off your soapbox. I’ve heard your fiery rhetoric before. In fact, as I remember, it was aimed at me once.”
“Yes, and you took my advice. If you’ll remember, you thanked me for it later. Said I’d saved you from making a big mistake.” Kirsten looked away, embarrassed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to preach. I just hate to see any woman allow herself to be put in a vulnerable position.”
“Well, don’t worry about Belinda,” Coralie said emphatically. “She was the one who broke it off and took Sam for everything she could. I don’t have all the details. He never talks about it, so all I know is what Jim’s told me and what I’ve learned from gossip the local citizens were eager to impart. In a small town like Copper Canyon everybody knows everybody else’s business.”
Kirsten’s curiosity was nagging at her. “Well, for heaven’s sake,” she said impatiently, “what happened?”
“It’s a long story,” Coralie began. “Her name was Belinda Evans, and her and Sam’s parents were close friends, so they’d known each other all their lives. They’d been best friends in elementary and middle school, sweethearts in high school and lovers in college. I gather that it wasn’t until his last year in medical school that the trouble between them erupted.”
“But if they were so much in love, why didn’t they get married?” Kirsten repeated.
Coralie rolled her eyes. “I told you, I don’t know. You know how college kids are. They like to be independent. Maybe Sam and Belinda were rebelling against authority, or maybe they wanted to make a statement. Who knows. I asked Jim one time and he said he didn’t know and hadn’t asked, implying that it was none of anybody else’s business.”
Kirsten smiled sheepishly. “Yeah. Well, I have to admit he’s right…So go ahead. What happened to break them up?”
“When Sam started medical school in Chicago, Belinda went along with him and they set up housekeeping together. The idea was for her to work and help support them, but her college degree was in humanities, which didn’t qualify her for much of anything unless she did graduate work. She had trouble finding a job, and when she did find one it was as an entry-level salesperson in a department store at only slightly above minimum wage.”
Kirsten was puzzled. “I understood Sam’s father was a physician. Couldn’t he pay for his son’s schooling?”
“Well, yes, he could and did,” Coralie explained, “but physicians in small communities aren’t as well paid as those in the cities, and the tuition to medical school is terribly expensive. Sam didn’t want to burden him with Belinda’s living expenses, too. After all, there were other children in the family who had to be educated.”
“Yes, I see,” Kirsten said. “Was it their financial problems that caused Sam and Belinda to break up?”
Coralie frowned. “No, actually it was the long hours of work and study his training required that finally did them in. She was lonely, irritable and desperately unhappy, when so many of his nights as well as his days were spent at the hospital.
“He tried to explain to her that this was the type of thing all medical students went through and there was nothing he could do about it, but by then she was beyond reason and started accusing him of seeing another woman.”
“She didn’t!” Kirsten protested. “Students always work gruelingly long hours in medical school and during their internship, to say nothing of residency if they decide to specialize.”
Coralie shrugged. “Not everyone knows that,” she pointed out. “You and I do because we also studied in the medical field, but Belinda had no such frame of reference. Her dad’s a blue-collar worker who got excellent technical training in an apprenticeship program but never went to college. She got a degree, but chose easy courses and only studied hard enough to get by. According to Jim, she didn’t really want to work. She wanted to marry a wealthy man who would support her.”
“Lazy, wasn’t she,” Kirsten muttered through tight lips. She’d heard enough to thoroughly dislike this woman.
“Afraid so,” Coralie agreed, “but according to Jim nobody dared say that to Sam. Jim tried it once and nearly got his head taken off. Sam was blindly in love and couldn’t or wouldn’t see her faults.”
“So what finally happened?” Kirsten prodded again.
Coralie’s tone and expression deepened to sadness. “Sam came home to their apartment one night to find Belinda gone. She’d taken all her things with her and left a note saying she couldn’t live the way they were any longer.”
Coralie’s voice broke. “He had some critically important exams coming up in the next few days and couldn’t take time off to track her down and beg her to come back. By the time he found her a couple of weeks later she’d married a man who, he learned belatedly, had been keeping her company during the long hours when Sam was at the hospital.”
A surge of compassion for Sam temporarily displaced the anger Kirsten had been feeling. “What a rotten thing for a woman to do to a man!” she said indignantly. “He must have been devastated.”
“He was,” Coralie confirmed, “and he never got over it. Oh, he doesn’t dwell on it, but neither has he had anything but superficial relationships with any woman since. That’s why I was so eager to get you and him together. You’re so right for each other, but obviously he wants no part of it.”
Kirsten’s tender heart hurt for Sam, who had been so badly treated by this spoiled and selfish woman. She wished she could hold him, comfort him, take away the lingering pain, but that was her nurturing instinct reacting, not her good sense.
In fact, it was all the more reason for her to steer clear of him. She was too vulnerable to him, too empathetic to his anguish, and she sure didn’t want to get mixed up in that quagmire!
“You can’t blame him, can you?” Kirsten said. “He might never completely trust a woman again. I wish I could help him, but I can’t. Nobody can, until he admits he needs it and asks for it.”
She paused for a moment and softened her tone. “And, Coralie, you’re not doing the women you set him up with any favor by trying to interest him in another relationship. He’ll just drive them away like he did me.”
Coralie opened her mouth to say something, but Kirsten hurried on. “This is a problem he needs to work out on his own or with a counselor. You know that. We both had lots of psychology classes in college. Enough to know when we can help with a patient’s emotional problems and when we can’t.”
Finally Coralie got a word in edgewise. “As you said, I know all that, and I certainly wouldn’t try to involve him with just any woman, but you’re special and I have this gut feeling that you’re the one who can restore his belief in the female gender and teach him to love again.”
Coralie’s statement pushed the wrong button in Kirsten. “That’s nonsense!” she railed. “And besides, I don’t want to have to ‘teach’ a man to love me. If my future Mr. Right can’t fall in love with me without help, then I don’t need him.”
She realized she sounded strident and lowered her voice. “I don’t want warmed-over love, Coralie. That’s a surefire road to hell. I want a man who will cherish me because he can’t help himself. Who will marry me because he can’t imagine life without me. Not one who thinks of another woman every time he makes love with me.”

Chapter Four (#ulink_f486efa0-3486-55bc-988b-c5616b07e3a7)
Kirsten spent the remainder of the morning on the phone reporting the accident to her insurance company in California, then helping Coralie prepare dinner, which in the rural areas of Idaho was the big meal served at noon. According to Coralie, it always consisted of meat, potatoes, gravy, vegetables, salad, bread and butter and dessert. The night meal was a smaller one called supper, as Kirsten had found out yesterday.
Jim and the hired man, Will Tucker, came in promptly at noon, washed up, ate ravenously and then Will went back to work while Coralie and Jim disappeared upstairs for a little while. Not long enough for any serious lovemaking, but when they came back down they looked flushed and happy.
They obviously adored each other, and Kirsten felt a twinge of envy. Was there a man out there somewhere who would love her as much as Jim loved Coralie? She hoped so, but that kind of devotion was rare and precious.
Not many people were blessed with a soul mate.
By two o’clock Coralie and Kirsten had finished cleaning up the kitchen, and Kirsten was exhausted. She’d gotten up with the rooster at five, and the hours since had been busy and exciting, but tiring. She hadn’t quite realized how thoroughly her energy had been drained by her illness, and even though she’d followed her doctor’s orders and taken it reasonably easy driving from Eureka, the two and a half days on the road had been debilitating.
She excused herself to go back to the cottage and take a nap. Coralie not only agreed, but insisted that she rest until suppertime, which was just fine with Kirsten. She was asleep within minutes after she stretched out on the bed, and didn’t wake up until the phone rang nearly three hours later.
It was almost as jarring as the rooster had been, and she woke with a start. “Hello,” she mumbled fuzzily into the speaker.
“Kirsten?” It was a man’s voice and sounded vaguely familiar. “This is Sam Lawford. Did I wake you?”
Sam? Why on earth would he be calling her? She’d been under the impression that they had said a very unmistakable and permanent goodbye last night.
“What is it you want, Sam?” she snapped, still groggy from sleeping so soundly. “Yes, you did wake me, but that’s all right. If I’d slept any longer, I’d have had trouble sleeping tonight.”

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