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From Doctor...to Daddy / When the Cowboy Said ''I Do'': From Doctor...to Daddy
Crystal Green
Karen Rose Smith
From Doctor…to Daddy Ever since Dr Dillon Traub arrived at Thunder Canyon, tongues have been wagging about the chemistry between him and his receptionist. Those broad shoulders of his may be awfully tempting, but single mum Erika knows better than to succumb to her attraction to her boss. Doesn’t she? When the Cowboy Said “I Do”Thunder Canyon golden-girl Holly had come home –abandoned, alone…and pregnant! The last thing the mother-to-be wanted was for her condition to be broadcast all over town. At least, until sexy rancher Beau made her an offer she couldn’t refuse…




From Doctor … to Daddy
Karen Rose Smith


When the Cowboy Said “I Do”
Crystal Green




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

From Doctor … to Daddy
Dear Reader,
I’ve come to several crossroads in my life which could have changed the course of it—what job I accepted, an engagement, a marriage proposal, the decision to start a family. My hero, Dillon Traub, is at a crossroads. Because of past decisions which he now considers mistakes, he wants to take his time choosing a new career path. But love doesn’t wait and can’t be predicted or even managed! When he meets Erika, a single mom, his past wounds are opened. What he comes to realize is that true love can not only heal the past but point the way to the future.
I’m honoured to be part of the MONTANA MAVERICKS continuity series. I hope you enjoy reading about Dillon and Erika as much as I enjoyed writing about them!
All my best,
Karen Rose Smith

About the Author
Award-winning and best-selling author KAREN ROSE SMITH has seen over sixty-five novels published since 1991. Living in Pennsylvania with her husband—who was her college sweetheart—and their two cats, she has been writing full-time since the start of her career. She enjoys researching and visiting the West and Southwest where this series of books is set. Readers can receive updates on Karen’s latest releases and write to her through her website at www.karenrosesmith.com or at PO Box 1545, Hanover, PA 17331, USA.
To my dad—I’ll always remember building model ships, rolling a red scooter, playing blackjack, and riding my bike the day you removed the training wheels. I miss you.

Chapter One
The door to Dr. Dillon Traub’s office at the infirmary in the lodge suddenly flew open. A tall, husky man carrying a boy of about eight rushed inside. “You’ve got to do something, Doc. I can’t find his EpiPen.”
Erika Rodriguez was right on the man’s heels. “This is Dave Lindstrom. He thinks his son Jeff is having a reaction to something he ate.” Her words were quick and precise, yet she seemed calm.
As Dillon rose from his desk, their gazes collided and the zing he’d been experiencing ever since he’d met his receptionist hit him full force. Even now.
Pushing aside any thoughts other than those about this little boy, Dillon took Jeff into his own arms and ran into a well-equipped exam room. “Call 9-1-1,” he shot over his shoulder at Erika, experiencing the gut-wrenching ache he always felt when he was near a child in crisis … remembering his own child.
“I already did,” Erika called after him.
An internist, Dillon could handle almost any emergency that cropped up at Thunder Canyon Resort. Marshall Cates—the resident doctor here—had assured him not many emergencies occurred at the resort.
So much for Marshall’s assurances.
The boy’s breathing was labored and his lips were blue and swelling. Dillon knew he had everything he needed to reverse the reaction if it wasn’t too late.
Too late, echoed in his mind, as it often had over the past few years.
It wouldn’t be too late for this child.
“Hold on, Jeff,” Dillon said in a low voice as he laid the boy on the table.
Expertly assessing Jeff’s height, weight and condition, Dillon grabbed an EpiPen with the appropriate dosage from the medicine cabinet. Instants later, he’d administered it, pulled over the oxygen tank and let Jeff breathe it in through the nasal cannula. Erika assisted any way she could while Dillon ran an IV line. All the while, he monitored the little boy’s pulse, checked his breathing, comforted him in low tones and prayed for the anaphylactic reaction to reverse.
Dillon was aware of Erika beside him. He’d been too aware of her since he’d briefly met her on his vacation here in June. When he’d accepted Marshall Cates’s offer to take over as staff doctor for the month of September while Marshall was away, Grant Clifton, the resort’s manager, had assigned Erika to be his receptionist. Since then, Dillon’s awareness of her had revved up into something even more disturbing—desire. He hadn’t felt real desire since well before his divorce.
Erika had never had any medical training but seemed able to take on any assignment she was given with a competence that made her a valued employee in Grant’s eyes, especially given the recent budget cuts. Those same budget cuts had made it necessary for Ruthann, Marshall’s nurse, to come on duty when Dillon went off. Not that he was really ever off. He was usually on call twenty-four hours a day, except for the odd night when the retired physician in town would cover for him.
Now Erika suddenly glanced toward the hallway, her long dark brown, wavy hair sliding over her shoulder. “I hear the sirens. The paramedics are coming.”
Standing at the boy’s shoulder, Jeff’s father murmured, “Thank God.”
Dillon checked Jeff’s nailbeds and was relieved to see the blue was receding. His lips were less swollen and pinker, too. “I know you’re scared, Jeff,” he said clasping the child’s arm. “But everything’s going to be okay.”
Jeff’s hazel eyes darted to Dillon’s face.
“You can breathe easier now, can’t you?”
Jeff nodded, then reached his hand out for his dad who took it and squeezed it tightly. The husky man’s brow was beaded with sweat and he looked as if emotion was choking his throat. Finally he managed to say, “He’s all I have.”
Dillon reached out his hand to the lodge’s guest. “Mr. Lindstrom, I’m Dr. Traub. I’ll follow along to the hospital to make sure all goes smoothly as soon as I give my nurse a call so she can cover.”
“I’ll call her,” Erika offered. “She’s due in soon, so she’s probably around the resort.”
Erika moved away from Dillon’s side, her figure trim in her navy suit. Her skirt was just the right length to be professional and her white silky blouse had a scooped neckline that showed off her beautiful olive skin.
As she passed him, her scent, light and tempting, enveloped him. She turned her head and her dark eyes stayed on his. For a moment, a rippling intensity skittered back and forth between them.
She broke eye contact and had almost reached the door when Dillon caught the sound of voices and the clang of a gurney. All at once, there the paramedics were—ready to handle an emergency … ready to take care of Jeff while they transported him to the hospital.
Dillon was so grateful that Erika’s calm handling of the crisis, as well as his ministrations, had saved Jeff’s life. He wished recovery was an outcome for every sick child.
Yet he knew firsthand it wasn’t. He’d lost his own child to leukemia—and there hadn’t been a damn thing he could do about it.
At her desk, Erika suddenly went on alert a few hours later. She recognized the bootfalls of Dr. Dillon Traub as he strode up the hall to the infirmary.
She had heard he was the heir of an oil fortune. Western-cut suits that impeccably fit his broad shoulders, fine leather boots, as well as the oil fortune were all good reasons to stay away from him. Ever since she’d met him in June and chemistry had rippled between them, she’d known becoming involved with him would be trouble.
Not to worry, she reassured herself. She was sure he wouldn’t be interested in her at all if he knew the truth about her.
Now as Dillon appeared in the doorway to the infirmary suite’s reception area, Erika noticed his tawny blond hair looked as if he’d run his fingers through it. It had a wave that styling couldn’t deny.
He wasn’t smiling, and she worried that Jeff had taken a turn for the worse. “Is Jeff okay?”
Dillon’s gaze held hers. “He’s doing great. And I also want to tell you that you handled yourself and the emergency very well. But we’ve got a problem. Mr. Lindstrom’s talking about suing the resort.”
Dillon’s praise meant a lot. Simply because she wanted a promotion, she assured herself. “Suing the resort? Why?” she asked.
Crossing to her desk, Dillon stopped at the corner. “The kitchen has been making Jeff special meals because of his food allergies. Jeff said he ate his lunch right before the attack. Mr. Lindstrom is convinced there was a nut residue in the salad. He assured me he has enough money to keep the resort tied up in lawsuits for years.”
“Does he want a settlement?”
“I don’t think so. I think he just wants to make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else.”
“But if he sues the resort—”
“I know. These are tough times. Resort reservations are down considerably, especially for September. I’ll have to speak with Grant about the possible lawsuit.”
Erika noticed the deepened lines around Dillon’s eyes and didn’t believe the lawsuit was the only matter pressing on him. “Jeff won’t have aftereffects from today, will he?”
“I hope not.”
Was that pain in Dillon’s eyes? Turmoil? About what?
She broke eye contact, feeling the flutter in her tummy that happened whenever Dillon was around. She instinctively knew if she kept gazing into his eyes, almost anything could happen. She couldn’t let anything happen. After Scott Spencerman had left her so suddenly she’d made a plan for her life—and it didn’t involve romance. She would not be distracted no matter what the gossips said about her.
Putting the brakes on the course of their conversation, Dillon reached across the desk and tapped the notepad in front of her, obviously wanting to change the subject. She’d doodled guitars and cowboy hats and a pair of boots.
“What’s this?”
“I was just trying to decide what to do next.” Should she confide in Dillon Traub? Why not? This wasn’t anything personal. After the gossip fest the town had participated in about her, she kept everything personal away from her professional life.
“It’s Frontier Days,” she admitted.
In addition to being a receptionist to Dillon—which wasn’t always a very busy position—she was managing the Frontier Days Festival scheduled for the fourth weekend in September. The festival had been planned to boost business for the town and resort. It was a huge project for her, but Grant Clifton had said he had confidence in her abilities. She was hoping to use the festival to score a much-needed promotion. If she could be promoted from receptionist to even guestroom manager, she’d have more to spend on her monthly budget … more to save for Emilia’s future.
“Problems?”
“For the most part, everything is falling in line. I feel I have a handle on events in town as well as guest-stay enhancements here. There’s just one element that’s missing and I can’t seem to do anything about it.”
“What’s that?”
“The entertainment. I wanted to have a really great draw, like a well-known country singer—Brad Paisley, Keith Urban, Zane Gunther. I’ve called every manager I could find. I even have the county arena at the fairgrounds lined up for that Saturday night. But I don’t have a star to perform there.”
Dillon said, “Maybe I can help you with that.”
“Do you know someone?” she asked with surprise.
“I might.” His smile was a bit mysterious and, oh, so sexy.
She went on, “I’m a little worried about the weather, too.”
He was actually listening. That wasn’t a trait she had found in many men. “It can be unpredictable in September. I’m not planning summer activities in case the weather turns colder. Still, tourists will be in and out of the stores, sampling food from the chili booths, listening to campaign speeches with a lot more enthusiasm if we’re having Indian summer. I’ve made alternative plans for everything, but the best laid plans …”
Dillon had seemed to relax and now sat casually on the corner of her desk. “The resort needs tourists before the ski season starts to fill vacancies and the town needs them to support Thunder Canyon businesses.”
“That’s why I planned Frontier Days for late in the month. The candidates for mayor seemed pleased with that, too, so they could rev up their campaigns for the November election.”
“You’ve thought of everything.”
She felt color rising from her neck to her cheeks. “Not really.”
Electricity crackled in the air as they gazed into each other’s eyes.
“Is Ruthann here?” Dillon asked, seemingly out of the blue.
“She’s back in her office.”
He nodded. “I’ll check in with her before I leave for my dinner break. How would you like to get a bite to eat with me?”
It was after five and technically Erika was finished for the day. She had responsibilities at home but with a phone call to her mom …
She was so tempted by Dillon’s offer. For the past three years, she’d shunned dating and steered clear of men. No man had ever made her heart race like Dillon did, not even Scott Spencerman. Was that a good or bad thing? She’d fallen for Scott’s charming flattery, as well as his suave, sophisticated persona.
Dillon didn’t seem to give idle compliments. He just—
Made her feel like a woman? Made her feel alive? Made her feel as if she were missing something?
What harm could one dinner do? No one could gossip about that, could they? And it might be a test to see just what kind of man Dillon was. Whether he could enjoy beer and a country jukebox … if he would mind being seen with his receptionist in public. “How about the Hitching Post in town?”
“The Hitching Post is fine with me,” he offered with a smile that could easily curl her toes if she let it. He was one sexy, attractive Texan with that defined jaw, golden-brown eyes and sandy-blond hair. Yet he didn’t seem to be a player. He had confidence but not the arrogance some men emanated when they thought they could hook any woman they crooked their finger at.
Erika was about to confirm their date, when Stacy Gillette appeared in the doorway. A pretty brunette, Stacy was one of the social directors at the resort. She was lithe and friendly and always seemed to have a smile. But then Erika supposed Stacy didn’t have a reputation to repair or something to prove.
Dillon’s face lit up when he saw the social director. “Hi, Stacy. I haven’t seen you around since I arrived. I was hoping we’d connect.” He gave Stacy a huge hug and a light kiss.
That kiss and his familiarity with the social director bothered Erika and she knew it shouldn’t.
Turning to Erika, Dillon said, “I met Stacy in Thunder Canyon when I was a kid.”
Stacy was beaming, too, as if seeing Dillon was the highlight of her day. She merely nodded to Erika, acknowledging her. Erika didn’t have many friends on staff because of the gossip that had followed her … and the friends she’d lost. She didn’t want to confide anything to a fellow employee that could be used against her. The one friend she’d made recently at the resort was Erin Castro, a newcomer to Thunder Canyon. Erika felt comfortable with her, probably because the woman knew nothing of Erika’s checkered past.
Stacy addressed Dillon. “I thought I’d drop by and if you were still here, see if you wanted to go to dinner.”
“I have a commitment tonight,” he said, without glancing at Erika, even though she hadn’t given him a final answer yet. “How about tomorrow?”
“That sounds great,” Stacy agreed. She gave his arm a playful jab. “Then you can catch me up on what the great doctor’s been doing in Midland, Texas … besides working. I won’t keep you. See you tomorrow,” she said, then with a wave and with another flashing smile, she was gone.
Dillon’s gaze returned to Erika’s. “I do have a commitment tonight, don’t I?”
Were he and Stacy simply childhood friends? Or did he date more than one woman at a time?
One meal. She could see if he really was a regular guy. Or if he was a player like Scott had turned out to be.
“Yes,” she answered, rolling her chair away from her desk. “I’ll gather my things and meet you at the Hitching Post.”
Straightening, he nodded. “See you there.”
Erika hoped to high heaven she wouldn’t regret getting to know Dr. Dillon Traub just a little better.
Erika opened the door to the Hitching Post and stepped inside, troubled by her phone conversation with her mom. When Erika had told her she was having a bite to eat with Dr. Traub, the cold silence had reminded Erika of too many things she’d like to forget.
Erika had assured her, “It’s just a bite to eat,” and explained about the emergency with Jeff. Still, her mom’s attitude had been more than a little concerned and Erika knew why. After all, her romance with Scott had put them both through the wringer.
At twenty-three, she’d been working as a receptionist in a real-estate office in town. Scott had bought one of the condos at Thunder Canyon Resort and intended to spend his spare time there. She’d spent spare time there with him, believing she was totally in love. He’d been handsome and polished, and she’d fallen for him hook, line and sinker. She should have had a clue when he didn’t particularly want to be seen in public with her. But red flags hadn’t been on her mind—only the bliss she’d felt in his arms.
She’d never forget the expression on his face when she’d told him …
She sighed, wishing the past could stay in the past. He’d used her and discarded her, and her mother had helped pick up the pieces. Erika would never forget any of it, nor the whispers that she’d been looking for a way up in life … that Scott was her ticket and she was a gold digger.
Since then, she’d made sure her behavior had been impeccable.
But now here she was, having dinner with eligible—and rich—Dillon Traub. Maybe her mother was right to be concerned. Maybe a simple dinner could cause more gossip she didn’t want to deal with.
The Hitching Post’s flavor hit Erika as soon as she stepped inside. There was a beautiful walnut bar to her right, packed with diners jockeying for tables or finishing their happy-hour conversations. When she’d suggested the place to Dillon, she’d forgotten about that painting of Lily Devine above the bar. She’d been painted almost nude, except for a bit of diaphanous cloth. What had Erika been thinking?
She’d been thinking that maybe the beer, peanuts and honky-tonk music would distract her from the chemistry she felt between them.
When she spotted him at a back table, her heartbeats tripped over each other. In his suit, he stood out. Most everyone here was dressed casually. But something about his appearance was different and she suddenly realized what it was. He’d discarded his bolo tie and opened the collar of his shirt. Hot enough in his fine suit, that open collar made him look worldly and, oh, so sexy. Hello. She’d already known she was attracted to him, but now attraction took on a whole new meaning.
She’d have something to eat and be gone.
When she reached the table, he smiled and she couldn’t help but smile back. Although formality was left at the door at the Hitching Post, she was momentarily charmed when Dillon pulled out her chair for her. As he bent to push it in, she caught the scent of his cologne and her heart skipped a beat.
Don’t fall for good manners, she chided herself. Or chemistry.
After they were both seated, the table for two seeming much too intimate despite the other patrons around them, Dillon said, “The waitress came around but I didn’t know what you wanted.” He raised his hand and caught a server’s attention.
A redhead with a long ponytail hurried over. “Ready now?” she asked enthusiastically, eyeing Dillon.
Dillon motioned for Erika to go first and she ordered cola with a twist of lime. She needed caffeine for the long night ahead. Dillon ordered soda, too, instead of something with liquor. Then she remembered that he was on call. So much for the see-if-he-likes-beer test.
Country music blared from the jukebox and a few of the patrons had started a line dance. Dillon smiled again. “I never could get the hang of that. I think I have two left feet.”
“But you’ve tried it?”
“Oh, sure. Country’s big in Texas, too.”
She blushed. She should have realized that. “Do you like country?”
“Some. I like jazz, Nickelback and Paul McCartney, too.”
And so the conversation went as they ordered, waited a short time and then enjoyed their meals. Knowing a big meal would make her sleepy and that was the last thing she needed, she ordered a taco salad. But Dillon dug into his ribs and coleslaw like an enthusiast. His plate was empty before she’d finished.
He wiped his mouth with his napkin and tossed it down beside his plate. “I’ve got to admit, the ribs here are good, but D.J.’s are better.”
Dillon’s cousin D.J. Traub owned the Rib Shack, located near the lodge. Actually, he not only owned the Rib Shack at the resort, but other Rib Shacks across the U.S. From what she knew of D.J. and his brother, Dax, they hadn’t come from wealth. They’d both found their niche and made the most of it. She wasn’t going to hide the fact that she knew Dillon was indeed more than a doctor.
“Tell me why you went into medicine,” she requested. “From the rumors I’ve heard, you could have been CEO of the company your father started.”
He arched a brow, but didn’t look upset or annoyed at her question. “There are a ton of reasons why I wasn’t the one to manage Traub Oil Industries. My mother took over the business after Dad died. My brother Ethan is the CFO now and he fits the part.”
There was obviously a story there, but Dillon didn’t seem about to confide in her. Of course, they didn’t know each other all that well, so why would he?
However, he surprised her when he added, “My father died on an oil rig when I was twelve. He took a fall and his injuries were serious. Even as a twelve-year-old, I wondered if I had been a doctor, could I have saved him? That’s the reason I went into medicine.”
She was remembering more details she’d heard about Dax and D.J. Traub and didn’t know if she was stepping into dangerous territory. But Dillon had opened the door.
“Your cousins—didn’t their mom die when they were kids?”
“How I forget the gossip mill in Thunder Canyon,” Dillon remarked with a rueful smile. “No one’s history is private. To answer your question—yes. I think that was one of the reasons we were close, even though I only saw them summers when we were growing up. We shared a difficult experience, and I guess it created a bond between us.”
A country ballad began playing on the jukebox. Dillon nodded to the familiar melody. “I think this conversation’s gotten a little serious. Would you like to dance? I can slow dance much better than I can line dance.”
She hesitated, knowing she should say no. But the urge to feel like a desirable woman again was strong. “Yes, I would,” she replied.
Before she could rise to her feet, he was behind her chair, helping her up. He definitely was a gentleman … or a good pretender.
The dance floor was crowded and that made her feel more comfortable for some reason. No one she knew was in sight.
She had to admit that she’d imagined Dillon holding her. But the real deal was something else entirely. As soon as his arm went around her and his large hand took hers, she knew she was indeed in trouble. He was at least six inches taller than she was—the top of her head just came to his nose. In his arms she could feel the strength of his muscles. Did he work out? At dinner he’d told her he tried to go riding many mornings. To top it all off, at this time of day, his jawline was becoming slightly stubbly. The scruffier look suited him.
When she looked up and her gaze collided with his interested brown eyes, nerves in her body tingled—nerves that she didn’t even know she had.
Too much … too soon … too fast.
After taking a deep breath, she eased away from him slightly to start another conversation. It was the only way she could distract herself from what was going on in her body, let alone the fantasies in her mind. He didn’t try to hold her close, but kept his eyes on hers as she moved away. Those few inches mattered a lot. She could breathe a little easier. And think. What was wrong with her tonight? She’d been so calm and cool-headed ever since Scott.
“You said your mom took over your dad’s business,” she began. “I think that’s wonderful.”
“Lots of men in the company didn’t share your opinion, but she made it clear they either had to come aboard with the program or they’d be gone.”
“How many brothers and sisters do you have?”
“I have four brothers and one sister.”
“Wow! Your mom handled all of you and a career, too?”
His silence told her this wasn’t a question he was comfortable with, yet he didn’t duck it. “Two years after my dad died, my mom remarried. Peter was working on the rig when my dad fell. He helped her through all of it and they got close.”
His hand ruffled through the waves on her shoulders and she wondered if he did it to distract her. If he did, he was succeeding. “Today’s the first time you’ve worn your hair down,” he noticed.
When she kept it tied back or in a chignon, she felt more professional. But this morning, she’d been running late. “I was a bit rushed this morning so I let nature take its course.”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to recall them. Nature. Attraction between a man and a woman was exactly what was going on here. They both knew it.
Dillon’s thumb played teasingly against hers. The sensual sensation raised her temperature a couple of notches.
So she tried again with conversation. “Are you planning to spend much time with your cousins, now that you’re here again?”
“Back to that, are we?” he asked teasingly.
“I’m just curious. There are so many stories floating around about Dax and D.J., their feud, their fistfight, the women they married. Were you part of all that?”
“No, I wasn’t. I was busy establishing my practice.”
Again something that she couldn’t decipher passed over his expression.
But he continued, “We did have a family reunion in June and we had a great time.”
“Do they have children?” She shouldn’t have asked, but she might as well know where he stood on that subject.
A shadow crossed Dillon’s face. “Dax has a six-year-old and a two-year-old. D.J.’s little boy is two, also. I haven’t been around them much. But I’m looking forward to some time with them while I’m here.”
Dillon’s tone didn’t match his words. He was being polite about it.
Erika’s blood felt like ice water. All she could think was that he was another man who didn’t like responsibility. He was another man who thought fatherhood would be a burden. He was another man who would be a mistake if she saw him again.
What was she doing here with Dillon Traub?
For the rest of the dance, she didn’t look him in the eye. She pretended he could be any one of the men on the dance floor—no one special, no one sexy, no one who made her heart beat much too fast.
When the song ended, Erika was relieved, but Dillon didn’t let her pull away. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I just remembered—” No, she wasn’t going to make an excuse. She wasn’t going to lie to him. “I have to go, Dillon. Thanks for dinner but I do have to go.”
Then she left him standing there, looking puzzled as she walked away. And when she pushed open the door into the cool September air, she didn’t look back. Her daughter Emilia came first.
And she would never forget that.

Chapter Two
Dillon pulled money from his wallet and flicked it onto the table with his bill. What had gone wrong with Erika?
Just as he asked himself the question, he felt the vibration of his cell phone on his belt. Did someone at the resort need him?
When he pulled the phone from its holder, he checked the screen and smiled. “Hold on a sec, Corey, until I leave the restaurant.”
Outside the door, Dillon took a deep breath, wondering why Erika’s leaving had disappointed him so deeply. He didn’t even know her. He shouldn’t even think about knowing her. He was here for a month, then he’d be gone. Besides that, she had to be twelve or thirteen years younger than he was. Maybe that was the whole problem. She decided she’d rather be out with someone her own age.
Now, however, his mind went to his brother, holding the line from Midland, Texas. “Okay, now I can hear,” Dillon said. “I was at the Hitching Post. You know how noisy that can get.”
Corey laughed, a good old Texas chuckle. At thirty-three and six feet tall, with light brown hair and brown eyes, his brother was the epitome of a Texas male. As a management consultant, he dressed stylishly when he chose to, but he was most at home in his boots and jeans. He’d spent some time with Dillon, their cousins and friends at the Hitching Post in June.
“What were you doing at the Hitching Post?” Corey asked. “Don’t tell me you were trying to pick up somebody at happy hour?”
Corey enjoyed women’s company and didn’t understand why Dillon still didn’t date.
He and his brother had always been honest with each other. Although Ethan was between them in age, Corey and Dillon thought more alike on subjects other than women and had gotten to be better friends the older they’d grown.
So now when Corey asked, Dillon was honest. “I was here with someone.”
There was a pause as if Corey was thinking about that. “With someone? Like the receptionist you met at the resort this summer?”
“You guessed that how?”
“I saw the way you looked at her when she led us to Marshall’s office in June. But more than that, I saw the way she looked back.”
“Yeah, well, she’s not looking back now. We were having an enjoyable evening, then all of a sudden she froze up and left. I would have appreciated a hint as to what I did wrong.”
“You’ll probably never know,” Corey empathized. “I don’t understand women any more than you do. They have a language I don’t get—a language they want us to learn, yet they don’t want to teach it to us.”
After another pause, Dillon asked, “Did you call just to see how things are going here?”
“Partly. Actually I might be in Montana again in November. I’m thinking about staying at the lodge. How do you like it there?”
“It’s luxurious. Anything you might need is at your fingertips.”
“But?” Corey asked perceptively.
“But if you’re going to stay any length of time, you might want to rent one of the condos. Many of them are empty.”
“Thanks—I’ll keep that in mind. So how do you like Marshall’s practice?”
“A medical practice like this one could be any doctor’s lifelong dream. I can even glimpse elk from the wall of windows in my office.”
“Yet it’s not your dream?”
“I can’t dream anymore, Corey.”
The silence between them was telling and Dillon asked a clipped, “What?”
“You have to let go of the guilt. You’ll never be happy again if you don’t. For the millionth time, you had no control over Toby’s leukemia.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Thoughts of Dillon’s four-and-a-half-year-old son who’d died were so bittersweet he usually closed the door on them.
“All right. So let’s talk about what you’re going to do when your stint for Marshall is up. Are you going to accept that concierge practice in Odessa?”
The doctor who had offered Dillon the position had put a sweet deal on the table. “I don’t know. Taking care of the guests at the resort is a somewhat similar experience. I’m going to see how I like it before I make up my mind.”
“Good idea. The truth is I don’t know if I can see you being at the beck and call of patients because they’re paying you well for the opportunity to have you as their doctor. It doesn’t sound like you.”
“I never thought I’d be here at the resort, taking over for Marshall, either.”
Corey waited a beat before asking, “So you just ran into this receptionist again?”
“Not exactly. Erika’s my receptionist now.”
“Ah-hah! The plot thickens. Just how did she come to be your receptionist?”
“Grant assigned her. I’m not taking up all her time. It’s pretty slow for her most days, but she’s the one planning Frontier Days. She’s working right outside my office all day, so we interact.”
“I see. And tonight you decided to interact on a personal rather than business level?”
His brother’s words brought back the image of him holding Erika in his arms, his hand under her hair, his other hand clasping hers. At first, as they’d danced, she’d been close enough to arouse him. But then she’d needed some space. He got that. They didn’t know each other very well. But leaving as she had—
“Ask her,” Corey suggested.
“Ask her what?”
“Ask her why she left. That’s what you want to know, right? Maybe she’s one of those rare women who will actually tell you the truth.”
His silence was answer enough for Corey.
His brother offered, “Yeah, the Texas Traubs inherited as much pride as oil money. You know what Mom’s always preached—pride comes before the fall. I think that means if you don’t give up the pride, you’re going to trip over something.”
Purposely changing the subject again, Dillon asked, “Did you attend the family dinner on Sunday?”
“Oh, yeah. Peter was in great form, filling us all in verbatim on the latest board meeting.”
“After all these years, we should realize Peter’s not going to change,” Dillon reminded his brother.
When their mother had married Peter Wexler, Dillon hadn’t known what to think. At fourteen, he was still grieving for his dad and couldn’t imagine another man moving into his father’s place. His mother had told them she needed help with six kids and running a business. Peter knew the business from the ground up and she’d teach him what he didn’t know.
Dillon had heard the gossip at school as she’d dated Peter, then married him. The grapevine had debated over whether or not he was a gold digger. People assumed the oil-rig foreman would take Claudia Traub’s money and leave her high and dry … but first he’d share the good life with her. Since Dillon hadn’t been about to accept anyone sitting in his father’s chair at the table, he’d rebelled big-time. He’d stayed away from Peter as much as he could, making sure he participated in after-school sports, studied someplace other than home and spent summers with his cousins in Montana. He’d told himself constantly he only had to live through four years because then he’d be in college and on his own. He and Peter had settled into a kind of truce, but they’d never become close, never become son and father.
Away from all of it now, Dillon finally answered Corey’s question.
“We all have our own lives now. He’s always seemed to make Mom happy and that’s what’s important, right?” Dillon asked, still trying to convince himself.
“I guess,” Corey agreed. After a pensive pause, he asked, “So what are you going to do about Erika?”
“Maybe I’ll just do what you said and ask her why she left.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“I’ll talk to you soon,” Dillon said.
Dillon attached his phone to his belt and strode to his sedan. Did he really want to find out why Erika had left? Why even bother when by the end of September, he’d be gone?
Early the next morning, Erika exited the women’s locker room at the resort’s gym dressed in her tank top, shorts and sneakers. She was a little out of sorts. For some reason, today it had been difficult to drop off Emilia at the neighborhood day care—her little girl hadn’t wanted her to leave. Plus, her dinner with Dillon last night had stirred up pre–Scott Spencerman dreams—dreams of vows, shared goals and most of all children who brought such joy to everyday life. Yet Dillon had squashed them with his lack of enthusiasm for children … the dark emotion in his eyes when she’d mentioned his cousin’s kids.
Erika stopped short when she spied the object of her thoughts. Last night, Dillon had told her he liked to go horseback riding. But the weather was damp and rainy today, so he must have opted for the workout room instead. She wished she could just walk by him and forget last night had ever happened. But essentially, he was her boss and she couldn’t.
He had spotted her, too.
He’d finished with one of the weight stations. Grabbing a towel from a nearby bench, he slung it around his neck.
She swallowed hard. His broad shoulders and slim waist told her he’d always been an athlete. He was wearing a gray T-shirt with the sleeves cut off and navy gym shorts that didn’t hide his powerful thigh muscles. There was a dark patch of sweat on his chest and under his arms. His body glistened from his workout, but he didn’t seem self-conscious about it, though he wasn’t smiling now as they both took a few steps toward each other.
“I didn’t expect to see you here this morning,” he commented.
“I come in a few times each week.”
“I thought I’d save my favorite horse a wet, muddy ride.”
She might as well jump into it. “I’m sorry I didn’t pay my half of the bill last night. If you’d like—”
“Don’t be silly. I asked you to dinner, remember?”
Oh, she remembered. Glancing at his body again, feeling heat creep through hers, she recalled exactly why she’d accepted his invitation.
“Did I say something to make you run off?”
He was direct, that was for sure, and she liked that about him. She liked too many things. “It wasn’t you, Dillon. Really.”
“That’s hard to believe.”
When she didn’t say more, he took another step closer, and now they were within touching distance. “You have circles under your eyes.” He gently touched one of them with his thumb.
Erika trembled and she hoped he couldn’t feel it. She’d never felt this kind of chemistry before. Taking a shaky breath, she decided just to give him a little bit of personal information. “I was up late last night studying. I’m taking an online management course. After all, I don’t want to be a receptionist forever.”
“So you raced home to study?” He sounded … surprised. Maybe even a little impressed. “Would you like to do something like manage this whole resort someday?”
“Yes, I would. From everything I’ve seen here, I think I’d enjoy hotel management. I’m hoping that if I do a great job with Frontier Days, I’ll be promoted.”
Dillon’s gaze passed over her assessingly as if he was taking stock of her appearance and her intelligence, maybe even her age. Her shoulders squared and she knew she raised her chin, wondering what was coming next. Dillon had always been a gentleman, but they were alone here. Scott had taken advantage of any time they were alone to make a move on her.
But Dillon didn’t engage in idle flattery, nor did he step closer. He asked, “Do you want to stay in Thunder Canyon or move on?”
“I haven’t thought about leaving.” After all, she had a child and a life to make. “Why do you ask?”
“Because you’re young, intelligent and beautiful. The whole world is open to you. Have you traveled at all?”
She shook her head.
“Do you want to?”
“Maybe some day, but now I have to make a living and I’m establishing roots. After all, this is where I was born and raised. Don’t you feel that way about where you came from?”
He shrugged. “I think a career path can lead away from roots. If you want to become a resort manager, you could end up on a tropical island.”
Maybe he felt as if he’d shared too much personal information with her last night because he hadn’t answered her question. “I can’t picture myself leaving Montana. I feel grounded here.” She knew that mostly had to do with her mother and her daughter, but he didn’t need to know that. “Have you traveled much?” she asked, curious about his life … curious about what being wealthy meant.
“I traveled before college, backpacked through Europe that summer.”
“Your parents let you do that when you were so young?”
“Let’s just say I was a responsible eighteen-year-old, and at eighteen my mother and stepfather couldn’t really stop me. I needed to get away and that was the way I chose to do it.”
“I bet they worried about you the whole time you were gone.”
“My mother was busy managing my father’s company. Her marriage to my stepfather was still fairly new. I didn’t feel they’d miss me.”
“But they did.”
“I could tell my mother did by the way her face lit up and she hugged me when I got home. What about your parents? Do they live in Thunder Canyon?”
This was territory where she didn’t want to go, but she took a few footsteps in. “My mother does. She’s an elementary school teacher. But my father left when I was five and we never saw him again.”
“I’m sorry,” Dillon said sincerely. “I know how hard it is to lose a parent, no matter how that happens.”
She wanted to touch him now, the same way he had touched her. She longed to slip her fingers through the wave of hair on his forehead, or touch the line of his jaw that seemed so strong and determined. But she knew she should do neither. She knew she should back away.
She actually did take a step back. “I have to start my workout so I can get to the office on time.” “I won’t keep you, then. I’ll see you later.” “Later,” she agreed, then headed for the StairMaster. She needed more than a sedate yoga routine today. She needed to expend some real energy. That way she could forget how Dillon’s thumb had felt on her cheek. She could forget the way his body turned her on. She could forget the way she’d felt when he’d held her in his arms.
Late that afternoon, Erika studied the firmed-up details for Frontier Days. She found she accomplished more when Dillon wasn’t in his office. His presence distracted her no matter how she tried to focus. That was unusual. She was usually good at focusing.
She heard the light footsteps in the hall and looked up when Stacy Gillette strolled in.
Dillon’s “friend”—that’s how Erika thought of her—stopped at her desk. “Is Dillon in?”
“Not right now. He’s in a meeting upstairs. Would you like me to page him?”
Stacy didn’t seem perturbed. “No. I’ll see him soon enough.”
A dinner date tonight?
As Stacy left the reception area, Erika told herself once more she shouldn’t care what Stacy and Dillon meant to each other. But she did.
Time to focus again.
Turning to the computer, she printed out the schedule of events for Frontier Days. She was lifting the last page from the machine when she heard Dillon’s bootfalls and took a deep breath as he strode in. Right away she noticed the grim expression on his face. His gaze met hers when he stopped by her desk.
“Is something wrong?” She didn’t know why her voice wobbled a little but it did.
“We have a big problem. I had a meeting with Jeff’s father. I can’t talk him out of suing the resort. The whole situation is a mess. He’s already called his lawyer and the resort is going to have to do the same. I have a meeting with Grant tomorrow morning. He’s not going to be happy about this.”
“Will the resort really be in trouble?” She could be out of a job in a minute if it was.
“Legal fees add up. Guest numbers are down. The resort still has its main expenses. Grant might have to think about cutting guest perks.”
Erika suddenly heard noise in the hall—adult feet, the patter of little feet. Dillon turned toward the doorway just as Erika’s mother and daughter entered in a burst of activity. That activity was Emilia. She was doing a combination of hopping and running in place.
As soon as she saw Erika, she pulled away from her grandmother and practically flew to Erika calling, “Mommee! Mommee!”
Erika opened her arms as her daughter launched herself at her. She felt the joy she always felt when she held Emilia close to her heart. After a few moments of mother-daughter bonding, Erika peered over her daughter’s head at Dillon. His face showed surprise and then dawning understanding.
She had to say something. “Dillon, this is my mother, Constance Rodriguez, and my daughter, Emilia.”
Dillon first shook her mother’s hand. “It’s good to meet you.” Then he turned to Emilia, a bittersweet expression on his face. “Hi, there.”
Emilia turned into Erika’s shoulder shyly but peeked up at Dillon.
“Say hello, baby,” Erika encouraged her daughter.
Emilia opened one eye, rubbed her nose in Erika’s shoulder, then grinned at Dillon.
“I can tell you’re going to be a heartbreaker,” he said. “Are you around two years old?”
“Soon,” Erika offered. “In a few weeks.”
Constance crossed to Erika and her granddaughter protectively. “I hope we didn’t interrupt anything important. But I had a half day today and decided to pick up Emilia so we could have some quality time together. And speaking of time,” she said to Erika, “when will you be home?” She addressed Dillon. “Erika puts in such long hours. I hope someone appreciates it.”
“Mom!” Erika was embarrassed by her mother’s comment.
Dillon stepped in. “I think her hours are long because she’s taken on two jobs—being my receptionist as well as the coordinator for Frontier Days. I try not to keep her past five but I’ve noticed she tends to stay later.”
“You leave at five?” Erika’s mother asked.
“Usually. Unless I have a patient. But I’m on call in the evenings although I’m not in the office.”
“Do you live here?” her mother inquired and Erika wanted to crawl under the desk. She tried again in a warning tone, “Mom …”
Dillon glanced from mother to daughter. “I live in a suite upstairs. That seems to be the best way to keep me available to the guests.”
“I see.” Her mother was obviously absorbing it all.
Had she stopped in today to meet Dillon because Erika had gone to dinner with him?
Emilia squiggled to be let down. Erika didn’t want to let her daughter run free but there was little she could get into in the waiting area except magazines on the coffee table.
As Dillon watched the toddler, he commented to Constance, “Erika didn’t mention she had a daughter.”
“My daughter likes to keep her personal life to herself,” Constance answered.
Erika noticed Dillon’s gaze pass over her desk where no pictures or any personal effects were displayed and she could see the questions in his eyes, along with dark shadows she didn’t understand. But she couldn’t answer his questions here and now and didn’t even know if she wanted to. He’d probably run in the other direction if he knew her history. He was so polished, so confident, so sure of his place in life. In so many ways he reminded her of Scott. Yet when she was alone with him …
Her gaze collided with his. Everything seemed to go quiet except for the beating of her heart.
Suddenly Emilia tired of pushing magazines on the coffee table. She ran for Erika but at the last minute detoured and headed for Dillon instead. She ran into his leg and he caught her so she wouldn’t fall.
The toddler looked up at him and giggled as if what she’d done was great fun.
Erika stooped and caught Emilia again, lifting her high in the air. Emilia raised her arms and waved them. “Mommee, Mommee. Fwy!”
Erika explained, “She likes when I lift her up high so she can pretend she’s flying.” Instead of giving her daughter her way, Erika shook her head. “Not here. We’ll fly at home.”
The phone on Dillon’s belt chimed. “Excuse me,” he said, watching Erika with Emilia. He glanced at the caller ID. “I have to take this.” He spoke into the phone. “Just a minute, Grant.” Turning to Erika’s mother, he smiled. “It was good to meet you, Mrs. Rodriguez.”
“It was good to meet you, too, Dr. Traub.”
Then Dillon came very close to Erika and gently ran his hand over Emilia’s hair. “It was a pleasure meeting you, too, little one.” His gaze was so tender yet filled with a deep emotion Erika couldn’t read.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said to Erika. “Go ahead and leave. You were here early and put in a long day. Ruthann can handle any calls coming in now.”
With a last wave for Emilia, he disappeared down the hall and into his office.
“You like him,” her mother whispered to her. “That’s dangerous.”
“Don’t worry, Mom. I learned my lesson the last time.”
“I hope so.” Her mother still looked worried.
Erika knew liking Dillon Traub was not going anywhere. She had even more to lose now than she had three years ago. She would not let a man ruin her life again.
At D.J.’s Rib Shack that evening, Stacy tilted her head and asked Dillon, “How often can you get away from the lodge?”
They’d been catching up over a dinner of ribs and corn bread. “I’m not chained here,” he joked. “But I was hired to treat the guests so I don’t like to go too far. If I do want to go out for an evening, I can give Dr. Babchek a call. He’s retired and can back me up if Ruthann needs him.”
The restaurant wasn’t far from the main lodge. The Rib Shack was nestled in among boutiques that stretched from the lodge through the resort.
Dillon glanced at the mural on the wall of the restaurant, the one D.J.’s wife, Allaire, had painted. For some reason, thinking about D.J. and Allaire and their two-year-old turned Dillon’s thoughts to Erika and Emilia. The little girl was a miniature replica of her mother, glossy wavy hair, big dark eyes. She was a beautiful child—and Erika was a beautiful woman. Dillon sensed there was a lot more to his receptionist than met the eye. She seemed mature beyond her years, unless he was just trying to fool himself.
“Dillon?” he heard Stacy say.
“Yes.”
“I asked if you’ve seen D.J. and Allaire since you’ve been back this time.”
“Not yet. But soon, I hope.”
“What were you thinking about?” the perceptive social director asked. “You seemed miles away.”
“Not so many miles.” Studying Stacy, he said, “I was thinking about my receptionist, Erika Rodriguez. Before I left the office tonight, her mother came in with her little girl. I didn’t know she had a child and I wondered why she kept her a secret.”
“Emilia’s not a secret,” Stacy muttered.
It was the way Stacy said it that made Dillon take notice. “Is there a hidden meaning there?”
Stacy hesitated and Dillon suspected why. She wasn’t the type of woman who liked to gossip, but he wanted to know more about Erika and he wasn’t sure she’d tell him herself. “I don’t want you to reveal anything you shouldn’t,” he assured her.
“Can I ask why you want to know?”
Should he say that he was interested in her, when he was trying to deny that fact himself? “We’ll be working together this month. I’d feel better knowing something about her background.”
Toying with a morsel of corn bread still on her plate, Stacy finally shrugged. “I suppose it won’t hurt to tell you. Most of Thunder Canyon knows her story.”
“Her story?”
“Oh, Dillon, you know how gossip spreads in small towns, especially here in Thunder Canyon. I’m sure tomorrow at the resort several people will ask me about my dinner with you.”
“You’re kidding.”
She shook her head. “Think about the feud between Dax and D.J. and how that was all over town for years, especially after Dax and Allaire got a divorce and then D.J. started seeing her.”
“Water under the bridge,” Dillon muttered, knowing both of his cousins were extremely happy now. They’d settled their feud and actually become brothers. Not only that, but each had found the right woman to make them happy.
“Yeah, but that water has a lot of debris in it.” Stacy pushed back her plate and propped her chin on her hand. “Erika was run through the gossip mill from one end of town to the other. After high school she waitressed for a while and took a couple of business classes in Bozeman. She’d settled into a job as a receptionist for a real-estate agency in Thunder Canyon when the boom took off. I think she intended to get her real-estate license eventually and start moving up. Then a businessman named Scott Spencerman came to town. He found a condo through Erika’s agency, one here at the resort. Erika was only twenty-three. He was older, but she caught his eye. He flattered her and charmed her, gave her presents, but didn’t particularly take her out in public much, if you know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t know what you mean. If he cared about her—”
“She cared about him. She thought she was in love with him. He was a businessman who traveled a lot and only wanted the condo here for skiing in the winter, and maybe some hiking in the summer. He didn’t want a life here. He wanted entertainment while he was here.”
“Stacy—”
“You asked,” she drawled.
After a long pause, he asked, “So what was the gossip about?” He felt annoyed that people couldn’t keep their noses where they belonged.
“The rumor was that Erika was a gold digger who took up with Spencerman for what he could give her.”
“Is he still around?”
“God, no. When Erika found herself pregnant, he sublet his condo and disappeared. I don’t know what really happened. I don’t know if anyone does. But Erika was out of work after Emilia was born and I think things got pretty rough. Now she barely talks to anyone while she works and leads a very private life. No one really knows if the rumors about her were true or not. Many people thought she got what she deserved.”
“A child and heartache?” Dillon asked. “Just what kind of people live here?” Dillon had met women who wanted to date him because of what he had rather than who he was. Erika didn’t seem like that type at all. Could a whole town be wrong?
He thought about his mother and stepfather. Could a whole family be wrong?
“Are you interested in Erika?” Stacy asked, surprised.
He supposed that was because she knew he hadn’t dated since he and Megan divorced.
“Will you tell me she’s after my money if I say I am?”
“No. But I’ll tell you to watch your back and your heart.” She reached across the table and clasped his hand. “I know what you’ve been through—losing Toby and then your divorce. We’re friends, Dillon. We have been since we were kids. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
He smiled and shrugged off her concern. “How can I possibly get hurt? I’m only going to be here a month and then I’ll be returning to Texas.”
“A lot can happen in a month,” Stacy prophesied.
Part of him hoped her prediction was wrong. The other part of him hoped she was right. He felt as if he’d been living in a bunker since Toby died … since Megan had left. In his group practice with three other doctors, he’d seen patients and dealt with insurance companies until he was too tired to see straight. Each night he’d gone home and collapsed, many nights falling asleep on the couch with the television blaring so it overrode his thoughts. Perhaps a casual relationship was the antidote he so desperately needed.
Erika has a child, he reminded himself.
Maybe Corey was right and it was time for him to leave his bunker … to bury his regrets and the guilt that he’d failed to save his son. He remembered again the way he’d felt at the Hitching Post with Erika in his arms. Would she say yes if he asked her out again?
He might just have to take a chance and find out.

Chapter Three
Dillon slowed on Thursday morning when he spotted Erika at the coffee bar not far from the main lobby. Usually he brewed a pot of coffee in his suite. This morning, however, he’d needed to go to his office, get to work … and forget.
He’d been awake most of the night, remembering the day his wife had left. She’d said, “Toby’s gone and there’s nothing holding us together anymore. I want a new life. I don’t want to be married to a doctor.”
He could have told her he’d leave medicine. He could have told her he’d work in management at Traub Industries and build the portfolio he’d inherited. In the end, he’d known if she couldn’t accept his need to be a doctor, their marriage had truly collapsed.
With the old memories still ricocheting in his head and Erika standing about ten feet away, he decided he might need a double espresso this morning.
When Erika turned from the cashier, a tall coffee in her hand, he noticed the navy suit she wore projecting professionalism and decorum. It was a different style than the one she’d worn yesterday, with larger lapels … more fitted at her waist. Her very slim waist. The white silk blouse had a V-neckline. It was quite sedate, but the sedateness itself was alluring. She’d pulled her hair back from her face and secured it in a tight chignon, but there again the severity of the style just showed off the beauty of her face and her dark eyes.
Dillon checked his watch. When his gaze met hers, he motioned to one of the small, black wrought-iron tables. “I’ll get my coffee and join you.” He really didn’t want to give her a chance to say no.
Indecision flickered across her face, but then she nodded and crossed to one of the tables, one a bit removed from the others in a shadowed corner. Did she not want anyone to see them together? Because of all that gossip Stacy had mentioned?
When he joined her, she was seated, staring into her coffee as if it held the schedule for her day. He didn’t sit across from her, but rather beside her. She didn’t move her chair away.
As she looked up at him, he asked, “So do you drink straight coffee or one of those exotic drinks?”
That’s obviously not what she’d expected him to ask. “Do you really want to know?”
His arm was on the table and he leaned a little closer to her. “Yes, I want to know … in case I pick up coffee for the two of us some morning.”
“I think that’s on my roster of duties.”
He shrugged. “Not necessarily. It’s simply a courtesy. So what do you drink?”
“A double-shot latte. And you?”
“Straight espresso.”
“Now that that’s settled, why did you really ask me to join you for coffee?” she asked him, choosing to be direct.
“Because I like you.”
Again, surprise showed on her face. “You always say the unexpected.”
“Maybe that’s because you think men are predictable.”
Tilting her head, she studied him more assessingly. “So you’re telling me you’re not like most men.”
“I don’t know. What do you expect from most men?”
“That’s beside the point.” She lowered her gaze to her coffee again as if she didn’t want to reveal any secrets.
Even sitting next to her like this, he could feel the attraction between them. He wouldn’t let her put him in the same category as other men in her life. “That’s exactly the point. You never told me why you ran away from me at the Hitching Post.”
“I didn’t run away,” she protested, her chin lifting, her eyes flashing a bit, revealing passion he realized he’d like to tap.
He liked her flash. “You just evaded my question. Evading is pretty much the same as running away.” If he challenged her, he might get to the root of the problem.
Her grip tightened on her coffee. “All right. It was the way you talked about possibly spending time with your cousins’ children. You were so detached … like you were saying the words but you didn’t really mean them.”
She was perceptive … way too perceptive. After practicing the past few years, he thought he had his neutral face down pat. But this wasn’t the place to tell her why he tried to be detached. To tell her about Toby … and Megan. “How did you interpret the detachment?”
She weighed his question, apparently understanding he was giving nothing away. “It meant you don’t want the responsibility of children because you believe they’re a burden. You don’t necessarily ‘like’ kids.”
“I like kids,” he said quietly.
“And parenthood is a huge responsibility.”
He certainly didn’t disagree with her on that. But he wanted to keep this conversation about her. “Do you believe most men don’t want the responsibility of fatherhood?”
After a few heartbeats, she finally replied, “I know two in particular who didn’t—my father and Emilia’s father. I’m sure you’ve heard gossip.”
“Actually, I haven’t. I had no idea you had a daughter. Why do you keep her a secret?”
“She’s not a secret. Almost everyone in Thunder Canyon knows about her. But I try to separate my professional life from my personal life. I haven’t always done that and I found it’s better this way.”
“No pictures on your desk? No mention of her?”
Erika set her cup on the table and her hand fluttered toward him. “I don’t need a picture of her to hold her in my heart twenty-four hours a day.”
“So essentially, you were just keeping her a secret from me.”
“Dillon, she’s not a secret. I just—”
“You just didn’t trust me enough to tell me about her. You didn’t trust me enough to believe I’d understand what had happened.”
Her gaze didn’t evade his. “It’s not as if we know each other.”
Although he was physically attracted to Erika, there were so many other qualities he liked about her, too. Her blunt honesty was one of them. So he was just as bluntly honest. “Do you want to get to know me?”
It wasn’t difficult for Dillon to see the turmoil Erika was in and he guessed one of the reasons why. “This isn’t a boss-secretary situation, you know. You’re a free agent. You’re coordinating Frontier Days. You’re just helping me out with my schedule and phone calls while I’m here.”
Her brown eyes conveyed her concern. “You can still turn in a report about me after you leave that can affect my future.”
Keeping his gaze on hers, he assured her, “I could write that report now and be done with it. It took me about an hour on our first day together to learn you’re organized, you practically have a photographic memory and you’re a perfectionist. What more could any employer want?”
“So you’d write a letter of recommendation now and file it away until you leave?”
“Yes. If doing that would mean you’ll have dinner again with me tonight.”
“I can’t.”
Dillon kept his expression neutral, denying how disappointed he felt. Maybe he was all wrong about the two of them connecting. Maybe he was the only one aware of the electricity in the air when they were sitting close together like this. But then he leaned back in his chair, leveled his gaze on her and knew he wasn’t wrong. Still, this was her call. He wasn’t going to pressure her.
“Okay,” he said, pushing his chair back. “That’s settled then.”
But before he could pick up his cup of coffee, her hand clasped his forearm. The electricity was there all right—sparking, buzzing, tingling.
“I have a commitment tonight,” she explained. “It’s a potluck dinner with some of the women in my neighborhood. But …” She gave him an intriguing half smile.
“But?” he asked, denying the fact his heart rate had sped up.
“But you’re welcome to come along.”
“Won’t I be the only guy?”
“Is that too much of a challenge?” she teased.
He knew she wasn’t teasing entirely. It didn’t take a genius to realize this was probably some kind of test. She was throwing down a gauntlet. He’d spent much of his life picking up gauntlets. The future was always more exciting when he did.
“A potluck dinner sounds great. What can I bring?”
That evening Dillon’s rented luxury sedan followed Erika’s small Ford to an older section of Thunder Canyon, possibly an original section. The row houses—a mixture of brick, clapboard and stone—jutted in and out along tree-lined streets.
Erika pulled up in front of a narrow redbrick house that rose two stories. A windowsill box of colorful mums decorated the front window. The house next door, in gray brick instead of red, had a similar box at its front window.
As Erika stepped out of her car, Dillon joined her. She said, “I have to pop inside my place first to get my contribution to the supper, then we’ll go over and gather up Emilia.”
“Your mom lives next door?”
“Yes. It’s more than convenient. It’s wonderful really.
For a while I lived there with her and she wanted me to stay. But I needed a place of my own. This one went up for sale right when I was thinking of buying a house. I knew it was fate. It took every penny of my savings for a down payment, but I wanted something I could invest in and have for a lifetime, maybe even leave to Emilia someday. It’s not very big, but it’s perfect for the two of us.”
She walked up the two front steps and unlocked the door.
Leaning against the wrought-iron railing, Dillon asked, “Mind if I come inside?”
“Not at all.”
When Dillon walked in, he wasn’t sure what to expect. But right away he could see this little gem of a house was something special.
She saw him looking down at the gleaming wood floors and said, “They just needed to be refinished. I did it myself with a little help from our neighbor.”
“You do home improvement?” he asked with a smile.
“I watch the Home and Garden channel when I have a chance. I’ve learned a lot. I also go to the local hardware store and the clerks there fill me in on what I don’t know.”
The living room was to the right, off the small foyer. A braided rug in blue and green and yellow was surrounded by a comfortable-looking sofa and an easy chair in the same colors. Green throw pillows fringed in yellow picked up the colors in the curtains. An entire wall was devoted to framed photos of Emilia. Dillon felt the familiar lance to his heart as he remembered the photographs of Toby that had decorated his and Megan’s living room.
Shaking off the shadows, he noticed a red washbasket full of toys that sat in one corner accompanied by a milk crate that held books. Passing the stairway to the second floor, they headed through the dining room into the kitchen.
“If you haven’t guessed, I like blue and yellow a lot,” she said with a wide smile.
Dillon glanced around the room at the yellow cupboards with blue accents, a round table with a high chair positioned at it and two shelves of cookbooks in a corner hutch. A circular, stained-glass window let in jewel-colored light even as the sun descended. The overall effect of the first floor was charming, and he could imagine Erika happily running after Emilia, bringing laughter into all of the rooms.
“What?” she asked him when she caught him staring at her.
“You’re full of surprises. I never thought you’d dabble in paint or hardware.”
“I’m a single mom, Dillon. I do what I have to do.”
Yes, she was a single mom. He remembered being a dad. It sounded as if she’d always put her daughter first. He hadn’t put his son first. Not until it was too late.
She unplugged the Crock-Pot on her counter. “We’ll just put this in the backseat of the car. It will stay hot.”
Dillon crossed to the kitchen counter to help her. Standing beside her, looking down on her, smelling that wonderful scent from her hair, he wanted to kiss her more badly than he wanted to do anything else. She was looking up at him as if she might want it, too. But he wouldn’t rush anything with Erika. In fact, he shouldn’t even think about starting anything with Erika. She had a child. They lived in two different states.
She has a child, he repeated to himself.
“I’ll carry it,” he said, his voice a bit husky.
“It’s beef stew,” she said. “Most of us try to stretch out paychecks so you’ll see lots of casseroles, I’m afraid.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.”
She quirked up her brows. “Just how often do you eat casseroles?”
He finally had to admit, “Not often. But that’s not because I don’t like them. I just usually grab some takeout supper, or eat at a restaurant.”
“No cooking skills?” she joked.
“No time to use cooking skills. That probably sounds like an excuse, but when I get home at nine o’clock some nights, the last thing I want to do is cook.” With sudden insight, he said, “That’s probably the same way you feel many nights, too, only you have a daughter to think about, so you don’t have a choice.”
Her eyes lingered on his. He thought her gaze dropped to his lips, stayed there a few seconds.
She brought her gaze to his again, then blushed a little. “Not many men understand that.”
“Maybe the men you’ve known don’t understand it, but I know men who do—Dax and D.J. particularly. Even I know that once children are in the picture, everything else should revolve around them.”
They came a little closer to each other, toe-to-toe. If he set down the stew, it would be easy to wrap his arms around her and bring her in for a kiss. But he knew this wasn’t the place or time to start something.
Still, he had the feeling something had already started.
“Speaking of children …” Erika joked, turning away to make sure everything was in order before they left. “If you put that in my car, I’ll get Emilia. Sometimes it takes a little while to coax her into her coat. She can be stubborn.”
Dillon went out the door first and Erika followed, locking the door. “I have a feeling you can be stubborn, too. Am I right?” he asked.
“Only when something is very important.”
A few minutes later, Mrs. Rodriguez was peering out the door when Emilia toddled down the steps and ran straight to Dillon. He’d just finished settling the pot on the floor of the car next to a huge box of chocolates he was contributing to the supper and spun around at the sound of her laughter.
That sound tore at his heart. But he lifted her, unable to resist holding Erika’s daughter. “Well, don’t you look pretty in that red sweater.”
She pulled a lock of her brown hair and grinned at him. “Cawwy … cawwy.”
Erika came over to her daughter and lifted her from Dillon’s arms. “I’ll carry you.”
But Emilia shook her head vigorously and pointed to Dillon.
Her gestures for some reason reminded him of Toby’s. “Would you like me to put you in your car seat?” he asked the almost two-year-old, his voice strained, not knowing if she’d understand.
She reached toward him again. “Go … go … go.”
Erika laughed and Dillon had to smile. At two, Toby had known what he’d wanted, too. When Dillon glanced at Mrs. Rodriguez, she wasn’t smiling. She waved goodbye but didn’t seem happy about her daughter driving off with a man. This Scott Spencerman must have done a number on them both.
A few minutes later, with Dillon driving her car, Erika was giving him directions to a church hall. It wasn’t far and they didn’t have time for conversation until right before they climbed out. Then she said, “Emilia doesn’t usually take to men as she’s taken to you.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“She hasn’t been around many men, so she sees them as strangers. But you—For some reason you’re different.”
Then Erika quickly unfastened her seat belt and exited the car.
Dillon watched as she expertly released Emilia from her car seat. But when Erika shut the back door of the car, Emilia reached her little hands toward Dillon. He could see Erika’s look of surprise. He was surprised, too. And touched … in a deep but bittersweet way.
Erika started to explain to her daughter, “Dr. Dillon doesn’t want—”
Dillon found himself responding impulsively, “Sure, Dr. Dillon will carry you inside. Come on.”
Emilia was a little bundle of sweater and cotton overalls. She smelled sweet and he recognized the shampoo scent, the same brand Allaire used on her child. She laughed up at him, her sparkling brown eyes full of mischief. Then as suddenly as she’d reached for him, she tucked her little head under his chin and poked her thumb into her mouth.
“I think she could become attached,” Erika said softly, a bit of worry in her tone.
“She’s a real gift, isn’t she?” he asked Erika, knowing what she’d been through.
“Yes, she is.”
An elemental understanding passed between them. It was bone-rattling in a way. Understanding could be as potent as chemistry.
He wondered if Erika felt the understanding, too, because suddenly she looked toward the social hall instead of looking at him, and said, “We’d better go inside.” Then she went to the backseat for the Crock-Pot. After handing him the chocolates, they strolled up the walk, side by side.
Inside the social hall, Dillon was surrounded by the sound of women’s voices. As he looked around, he realized this was indeed a test. Most of the women were accompanied by children. Already a few casseroles lined one of the tables. Paper dishes and plastic tableware marked each place. For once in his life, he wasn’t exactly sure what he should say, or what he should do. He was bombarded by memories of Toby as he caught sight of children with their moms playing with toys, sitting at the tables.
Leaning close to Erika, he asked, “Will there be gossip about you bringing me here?”
“Not the way I’m going to introduce you. I thought you could give them some tips on nutrition and on keeping their kids healthy.”
It was obvious Erika wasn’t ready to go on a “date” with him. It was also obvious she was comfortable here—more comfortable than she was with her coworkers at the resort. “Okay,” he agreed. “We’ll ward off gossip with facts about nutrition. Why don’t you introduce me? We’ll start with that.”
Erika clapped her hands for everyone’s attention. The chatter ebbed away as the women looked at her expectantly.
“I want you to meet Dr. Dillon Traub. He handles emergencies and ailments at the resort. If you have any questions about the best foods to feed your kids, or how to keep them healthy this winter, feel free to ask him.”
Dillon smiled at the women. “I don’t pretend to know all the answers, but if I can tell you anything that will help, I’ll be glad to do it.”
Tired of being held, Emilia squiggled around in his arms. He raised his brows at Erika.
“You can put her down. She likes to roam from chair to chair. Mom already fed her because she usually gets caught up in play with someone here and doesn’t eat.”
After Dillon set Emilia gently on the floor and she ran toward another little girl who looked to be about three, he took off his suit coat and laid it across the table at the rear of the room. Then he tugged down his tie, slung it from around his neck and stuffed it into his jacket pocket. His shirt sleeves were next. He rolled those up and felt a lot more comfortable.
As he took a seat next to Erika, women began filling the chairs around the table, introducing themselves and asking him questions. They weren’t shy and soon they were having a lively discussion about fresh foods, frozen vegetables and healthy snacks for kids. At one point, Dillon glanced at Erika and caught her watching him. Her interest gave him an odd feeling, but pleasurable and unsettling. What was he doing here? But then he realized, he enjoyed just being with Erika. The sound of her laughter entertained him, the curve of her hair against her cheek aroused him, her quick humor made him laugh. When her knee brushed his under the table, she quickly moved hers away. He felt sorry about that. The closeness of her body against his gave him an adrenaline rush he hadn’t experienced in a very long time.
Scalloped potatoes, chili, black-bean soup and homemade bread were all very good and he complimented the chefs. These women knew how to stretch a dollar and do it well. From what he overheard, they seemed to rely on each other for babysitting and rides to work when their cars broke down. Here, Erika was among friends who supported her.
Erika was fielding Emilia’s attempt to run around the table when Dillon caught sight of a young mother. She was holding the hand of a little boy who looked to be about five. As Dillon observed the child, he wondered if the boy had a fever. There was a glassy look to his eyes that Dillon didn’t like at all.
The women were mostly finished eating and talking among themselves. He pushed his chair back and casually made his way to the young woman and her child.
When he crouched down by the little boy, he said, “Hi, there. What’s your name?”
The little boy looked up at his mother.
“It’s okay,” she said.
“My name’s Kevin.”
Dillon extended his hand to the boy’s mother. “Dr. Traub.”
She took his hand hesitantly and shook it. “I’m Sue. Sue Kramer. Kevin isn’t feeling well. He has a sore throat.” Her arm went around her son’s shoulders.
Dillon felt Kevin’s forehead, then he took the boy’s pulse. It only took a few seconds for him to be able to tell Kevin’s heartbeat was fast. It was possible he could have strep, or it could simply be a virus. There was no way to know without a culture.
“I can’t really do a proper examination here,” Dillon said. “I’d like to make sure he doesn’t have strep throat.”
“Oh, but we don’t have any insurance,” she said, looking embarrassed.
“Do you have transportation?”
“Yes, my brother’s pickup truck. Why?”
Erika came over to them then and asked curiously, “What’s going on?”
“Kevin isn’t feeling well,” Dillon explained. “I’d like to take him to my office so I can examine him properly.”
“Where’s your office?” Sue asked.
“Thunder Canyon Resort.”
“You’re kidding! You want me to drive up there?”
Dillon could see she was uncomfortable with the idea.
“You really should get him checked out,” Erika advised her. “If you’re not comfortable going up there alone, I’ll come with you. I really should drop off Emilia first then we can meet you there.”
Sue looked from her son to Dillon, then at Erika. “I can’t pay him,” she said, her eyes becoming shiny.
Erika’s gaze settled on Dillon.
He made a quick decision on how to handle this. “You made that black-bean soup, right?” he asked Sue.
She nodded.
“I thought it was great. How about if the next time you make it, you drop off a serving for me. The restaurants are great at the resort, but the truth is I get tired of restaurant food. Your soup would make a great lunch.”
“You’re serious? I mean I could easily make you some next week.”
Dillon held out his hand to her. “It’s a deal.”
A smile came to Sue’s lips and she shook his hand again. “Okay.”
“We need about twenty minutes,” Erika told her. “Then head up to the resort.”
“I’ll wait in my car until you get there,” Sue told them, obviously not wanting to go inside by herself.
Dillon didn’t try to convince her otherwise. “We’ll meet you there,” Dillon assured her, then he pushed Kevin’s bangs across his forehead, remembering too vividly doing the same thing to Toby.
A little over an hour later, Dillon and Erika stood outside the side entrance to the main lobby of the Thunder Canyon Resort and watched the taillights of Sue’s truck pull away.
“I’m glad it wasn’t strep,” Erika remarked as she watched the truck wind down the hill away from the resort.
“It will just have to run its course. But the vaporizer I gave her to use should help.”
“Will the resort mind you giving that out?”
“She’ll bring it back when she brings the soup. There are plenty more in the supply closet.”
Erika turned to Dillon then, placing her hand on his arm. “That was a nice thing you did tonight.”
“What? Acting like a doctor? She had a sick child. I had to do what I could for her … for Kevin.”
The way Erika was looking at Dillon made him feel as if he’d accomplished some great feat. What she did next totally surprised him. Standing on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek.
Before he could stop himself, his arm went around her. She was slim but curvy and felt just right in his arms. She didn’t pull away and he took that as a sign that she was as interested in him as he was in her. The light from the entranceway illuminated the area so he could see she was willing to stay just where she was. The wind lightly pulled a few strands of her hair from its mooring in her bun and they blew across her cheek. Her dark eyes sparkled.
“You’re a beautiful woman.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, still looking up at him.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you.”
“Dillon, we shouldn’t even consider a kiss.”
“You kissed me,” he teased.
“That was just a thank-you kiss,” she whispered.
“Maybe this could just be a thank-you kiss.”
He really intended the kiss to be short and light and simple. But when his mouth settled on hers, when his heat ignited hers, it became more than a thank-you, more than short, much more than simple.
Her arms twined around his neck and he embraced her tighter. His mouth opened over hers and she responded in kind. She tasted so good, and she responded so passionately that his blood heated. He was more aroused than he’d been in years.
Then in a flashing instant, he felt the change. Her response came to a halt. He knew exactly what was going to happen. When he released his hold on Erika, she pulled out of his arms.
“I never should have done that,” she murmured, her hand over her mouth. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You weren’t thinking, and neither was I.”
She was shaking her head. “I can’t get involved. I have Emilia to think of. I never should have kissed you.”
He could see the panic in her eyes. The desire that had risen up in him when he’d taken her into his arms had rattled him, too. “Erika, it’s okay. It was only a kiss.”
“Only a kiss,” she agreed, looking over his shoulder and a little less panicked. “I hope no one saw us,” she murmured.
That made him frown. He wasn’t ashamed of being with her. They hadn’t done anything wrong.
But before he could put those thoughts into words, Erika stepped farther away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The next moment she was running for her car, hopping inside, starting the engine. As she drove away, Dillon knew that taking advantage of her friendly kiss had been the wrong thing to do.

Chapter Four
All morning Erika had sat at her desk, answering the phone, printing guidelines for the stores downtown who were involved in Frontier Days. Still, she couldn’t erase Dillon’s kiss from her mind, or the feel of his lips on hers. Yet she had to try. She’d put so much time and effort and focus into getting her life back on track. She couldn’t let a handsome doctor who was going to leave in a few weeks ruin everything she was building.
Still, she was curious about him. She wondered why, whenever Dillon was with children, she glimpsed so much sadness in his eyes. Would he ever tell her what that was about? Did she really want him to?
Entering the three-story main lobby of the resort from the corridor that led to the shops and restaurants, she noticed Dave Lindstrom standing by the life-size elk sculpture near the huge central fireplace. He was speaking with another guest. Crossing the vast lobby to reach the check-in desk, she was surprised when Dave’s son Jeff approached her, casting a glance at his dad before he asked, “Can I talk to you? Maybe over there?” He pointed to one of the leather sofas that faced away from his father.
Crossing to the sofa and sitting down, Erika felt a sense of urgency about Jeff. She didn’t know if she should talk to him with the threat of a lawsuit in the air, but his gaze was so beseeching she gave in. She had a few more minutes on her lunch break to spare.
She smiled at him reassuringly. “What would you like to talk about?”
He fidgeted with the hem of his T-shirt. “My dad said the chef who made my lunch got fired. And a lawsuit will cost the resort lots and lots of money and more people will get fired. Is that true?”
Jeff was mature for his age … and bright. The chef had in fact been fired, though she’d sworn she’d been very careful with his salad and his burger that day. Erika hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Why are you worried about this?”
“I watch the news. Dad has the cable channel on a lot. If people lose their jobs, they could lose their houses, too. And their kids won’t have a place to live!”
He was upset and now she suspected why. Jeff was a good kid and what she saw in his eyes was … guilt. “Your dad said you had a salad and that’s what caused your allergic reaction. If the chef wasn’t careful …” She let her voice trail off, giving Jeff an opening to tell her what really happened.
Tears came to Jeff’s eyes as he glanced toward his dad, then back at her.
She said gently, “Your dad loves you. All he cares about is that you’re well again.”
“He tells me over and over again not to eat anything someone else gives me. I have to eat stuff different from everyone else. It’s no fun.”
“I imagine it’s not.”
“I made a friend here. We went fishing together and skipped rocks and just walked.”
“Who’s your friend?”
“His name’s Ken.”
“Did you and Ken share something?” she guessed.
Jeff wiped his palms on his jeans. “He had this candy bar. He said it was just chocolate, no nuts. He gave me half of it and I stuck it in my pocket. That day at lunch when I saw that salad—” He sighed. “I just get so tired of salads. But Dad says they’re good for me. He got a phone call and left the table and I just … I just ate that half of the chocolate bar. It wasn’t supposed to have any nuts in it!”
Erika knew all that chocolate had to do was touch part of a conveyor belt where a nut product had lain. That was all it took for someone with food allergies to have a reaction.
She wasn’t exactly sure what she was going to do with the information. She didn’t want to put Jeff and his father at odds in a public place, or interfere in the proceedings if there was a lawsuit. So she simply asked, “It wouldn’t be fair if your father sued the resort, would it?”
Jeff morosely shook his head.
“I do think it would probably be better if you told your dad instead of someone else telling him, though, don’t you?”
“He’s going to be so mad. I told you because …”
“Because you had to tell someone,” she guessed. “What does your dad do when he gets mad?”
“He yells and his face turns a little red. But afterward he usually says he’s sorry. He’ll probably take away my computer privileges.”
“You’re a smart kid. I think you can find something else to do. I also think your dad will be proud of you for telling the truth.”
“You think so?”
She’d seen firsthand the love that Dave Lindstrom felt for his son. She nodded. “I’m sure of it.”
Opening her purse, she took a slip of paper from it. She wrote down her cell-phone number and handed it to Jeff. “If you get into too much trouble and you want somebody to talk to, just give me a call, okay?”
“I don’t know when I’m gonna tell him.”
“I know. I just want you to know you have a friend if you need one.”
His father had finished his conversation and was walking toward them.
Erika asked Jeff, “Are you going to be okay?”
The boy nodded.
As Lindstrom beckoned his son to come with him, Jeff stuffed the paper she’d given him with her number into his pocket and crossed to his dad.
After a few minutes of considering her conversation with the boy, Erika decided what she was going to do. Following the hall back to the infirmary, she found Dillon in his office. He was filling in information on a patient’s online chart.
His door was open but she rapped anyway.
When he looked up, he saw her, but his expression was unreadable as he said, “Come in.” She realized he’d had a busy morning. Two guests had gone hiking and had fallen; another guest had expressed a problem with dizziness. Later, an older gentleman had rushed in with a nosebleed that wouldn’t quit. Erika had already learned Dillon didn’t let his chart work back up, and he e-mailed duplicate copies of the guests’ infirmary visits to their family physicians. So he had a lot of info to enter.
“Did you have lunch?” she asked as an opener, not knowing where else to begin.
“Not yet. Ruthann just arrived. I’ll take a break in a little while.”
“I can pick you up something at the deli and bring it in.”
“I told you before, Erika, that’s not your job. You’re not here to wait on me.”
No, she wasn’t. She was going to make a place for herself on this management team and become an asset to Thunder Canyon Resort.
“I was just in the lobby and Jeff Lindstrom asked to talk to me,” she began, trying to keep her heart from tripping too fast.
“How is he?” Dillon’s voice was full of obvious concern for the boy.
“He’s fine. But feeling guilty.”
“About?” Dillon stood and came around the desk to where she was standing.
“Employees getting fired because of him. He told me he’d made a friend. This friend had given him half a chocolate bar and assured him there weren’t any nuts in it.”
It was obvious Dillon was surprised. “He actually told you that?”
“Is it so difficult to believe an eight-year-old has a conscience and would confide in me?” she asked a bit defensively.
“No, of course not. I didn’t mean it that way. Did he tell his father?”
She shook her head. “Mr. Lindstrom was in the lobby, too, and Jeff didn’t seem ready. But he knows he has to now that he confided in me.”
Dillon took another step closer to her. “Jeff coming to you was important. This cuts off the lawsuit at its knees … unless the boy denies the whole thing again.”
“I don’t think he will.”
Dillon’s golden-brown gaze was powerful as he suggested, “Denial is a great defense mechanism. We think it keeps us safe, but it really doesn’t. The truth isn’t far underneath.”
She was intuitive enough to know Dillon wasn’t talking about Jeff now. “Sometimes the truth can hurt, or put one in a dangerous situation.”
“Dangerous? In some ways.” He paused to study her. “I’m still thinking about that kiss. Are you?”
“Yes,” she admitted on a sigh. Something about Dillon Traub demanded honesty.
“Do you feel if you became involved with me, you’d be putting your job in jeopardy?”
“I’ve thought about that … and other things.”
“What other things?”
“I’ve been the butt of gossip before. I don’t want to be again.”
“That’s one thing. What’s another?”
“Emilia. Even if I were willing to take a risk for myself, I can’t take risks with her.”
“But there’s still more, isn’t there?”
“I don’t have time to spare … not with Emilia and work and—”
“Okay, I get the idea. But I don’t think I’m wrong about the attraction between us, am I?”
If she answered, she’d be putting too much power in his hands. She lowered her gaze, choosing not to let him see what was going on inside of her.
He lifted her chin with his thumb. “Erika?”
If she stood here much longer, she might end up in his arms! There was a magnetic pull toward him that could sweep her off her feet if she let it. But she had to keep both feet planted firmly on the ground. The touch of his finger on her skin, however, gave her thoughts wings. She couldn’t seem to capture even one of them at the moment.
She had her purse slung over her shoulder and now her cell phone rang from inside of it. Saved by “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star”—Emilia loved to hear the song play on her phone—Erika dug in her purse. “I’d better get this.” Opening the phone, she saw the caller ID and froze. It was Zane Gunther’s manager! She couldn’t believe it.
“Mr. Nolan! Hello. It’s so good to hear from you.” Even if it was bad news, at least she’d gotten this far.
“Miss Rodriguez?”
“Yes, it’s me. I’m sorry. I was just so excited to receive your call.”
The man had amusement in his voice when he asked, “So you think this is going to be good news?”
“I can hope, can’t I?”
“Well, you must have been doing a lot of hoping since you first called me. I won’t keep you in suspense any longer. Mr. Gunther has accepted your offer to appear at Frontier Days for the fee Mr. Clifton has offered to pay. He has one request, though.”
She felt like jumping up and down for joy, spinning in a circle, grinning from now until next year. “Anything!”
“He would like a secluded place to stay before he performs.”
She’d discussed this possibility, too, with Grant and had a couple of options. “We’d be pleased to give Mr. Gunther one of the penthouse suites, though that would be in the main lodge. A second choice would be for him to stay in one of the vacant condos. They’re down the mountain a ways. A third option would be the most secluded. We have a few isolated cabins kept for dignitaries. They’re off the beaten path and no one has to know he’s there.”
“That sounds perfect. Except … is the cabin large enough for anyone besides Zane?”
“The cabins are really more like small villas. Each has two bedrooms and a full kitchen as well as a dining and sitting area.”
“I know Zane will want the cabin and I’ll probably stay there with him. How about one of those vacant condos for the band?”
“Whatever you’d like, Mr. Nolan. I just can’t believe you said yes.”
He laughed, and said he’d be in touch again to finalize details. Then he ended the call.
After Erika hung up, she was beside herself with excitement. Zane Gunther. He was the biggest of all the stars she had tried to contact.
Dillon rose from his desk, his gaze questioning.
She couldn’t keep her enthusiasm from what had just happened tied up inside her. “Guess who’s coming to Thunder Canyon?”
Dillon’s mouth tilted up in a smile. “The governor of Montana?”
“Even better. Zane Gunther’s coming. Can you imagine?
Think about the crowd he’ll bring in! Just think about his music. And I get to sit in the front row.”
“I’m glad you’re happy about it. Convincing him to come could make Frontier Days an even bigger success.”
“Aren’t you excited? Don’t you just love his music? Don’t you wish you could shake his hand and—”
Something about Dillon’s stillness alerted her that he already knew about this. She remembered telling him how frustrating it was not having anyone call her back … how much she needed a well-known country singer to perform … and he’d said he might be able to help.
Why would Zane Gunther come to Thunder Canyon? It wasn’t a large venue like he was used to. Suddenly Erika knew this gig didn’t happen by sheer luck. It didn’t happen because she’d made a call.
“Did you know about this? Did you have something to do with getting him to accept my invitation?”
Dillon said simply, “Zane and I go way back. We went to school together.”
“Oh, Dillon. Thank you.” Before she thought about it once, let alone twice, she threw her arms around him and gave him a huge hug.
In response, Dillon’s arms went around her.
Their enthusiastic embrace turned into something else when she raised her gaze to his. She could feel his muscles go taut under his suit coat. More than that, she felt his body heat, smelled his aftershave and fell into those golden-brown eyes. Whenever she was within touching distance of Dillon, her whole world changed. It became brighter, clearer, more adventurous. It was a no-holds-barred feeling that she could do anything, or be anything. It was so crazy, yet—
“Do you want another kiss as much as I do?” he asked, his voice husky.
“Yes,” she breathed, waiting, anticipating, knowing she shouldn’t be doing this but unable to help herself because it felt so right.
Dillon’s mouth came down on hers quickly, possessively, passionately. His tongue breeched her lips, searched for a response which she willingly gave as he pressed her more tightly against him. As she laced her hands in his hair, the world around them fell away.
Eventually Dillon’s hold lessened, his kiss slowed, his tongue stopped exploring and she was aware of all the changes. Yes, they both wanted this moment—but where did he think it was going to go? Where did she?
She dropped her hands from around his neck and backed away.
His voice seemed quite steady and he looked much less affected by the kiss than she was. “I shouldn’t have done that here. Are you okay?”
His office was private. The scenery outside the long windows gave the illusion of being someplace other than in a lodge. But they were in the infirmary suite and could be interrupted at any time.
Erika’s thoughts wafted through her mind. She was trembling so badly, she felt as if she wanted to fall to the floor in a puddle. But she couldn’t let Dillon see how much he tilted her world.
After clearing her throat, she straightened her shoulders and met his gaze. “I’m fine.”
The simmering heat in his eyes shook her all over again. He ran his hand through his hair and went to his desk, using it as a barrier between them. “You have an outside appointment this afternoon, don’t you?”
With effort, she pulled herself together and replied, “With Mayor Brookhurst. I’ll be leaving in a few minutes. I have to sort through my notes first.”
With an obvious effort to move the conversation away from the two of them, he remarked, “I suppose he’ll be Master of Ceremonies for Frontier Days?”
“Yes. I want to go over his schedule. Bo Clifton and Arthur Swinton will be giving campaign speeches on Saturday afternoon of that weekend and probably glad-handing everyone they can. I’m hoping Mayor Brookhurst will look on the whole thing as one big retirement party.”
Although they were discussing Frontier Days, Dillon was still standing there watching her. “What?” she asked.
“You’re really beautiful when you let your guard down.”
She wasn’t sure what to say to that until Dillon went on. “You’re beautiful all the time. But when you’re enthusiastic, your eyes light up, and your smile is something to see. I’m glad Zane’s concert will make you so happy.”
She wanted to find out more about how this had all come about and exactly why he had asked his friend for this favor. “Did you have to twist his arm?”
“No,” Dillon answered with a reminiscent smile. “I asked if he was free. He checked his schedule. I told him I’d be here this month and suggested we’d have time to reconnect. He seemed to like that idea.”
“I’m hoping he’ll enjoy himself here.”
“This will be good for you in other ways, too. The prestige of having him and his band staying here could bring in even more guests. Grant will be thrilled. I guess your biggest job now will be to publicize it as quickly as possible.”
If she kept looking at Dillon, kept thinking about his lips on hers, she’d end up in his arms again. So she concentrated on details. “There are so many things to think about—writing press releases, putting info on the resort Web site, taking out more ads across the area. I also need to know what Zane might need to be comfortable here. What does he like? What should I put in his room? Where can I get all of his CDs so we have enough to sell?”
“His manager won’t mind you asking him those questions. He’s a good guy.”
“But you probably know his likes and dislikes, favorite candy bars. Unless he’s into healthy snacks. If so, I need to know that,” she said, still in awe that the country singer was actually going to perform in Thunder Canyon.
Dillon shrugged. “He’s just a man, Erika, like any other. But if you need specifics, he likes corn chips and the hottest salsa you can find.”
“Still—this is so big for Thunder Canyon.”
“I’m getting a good idea of how big it is for you.”
“Will you introduce us?” she asked impulsively.
“Sure. If I’m around when Zane comes in, I’ll do that for you. You’ll like him, Erika. He really is a regular guy.”
“And you’re a terrific … friend for doing this.”
“I didn’t do it just for you. Thunder Canyon can use a real economic pump. Maybe if other country stars see that Zane performed here, they’ll follow.”
“Thank you for any part you played in convincing Zane to come here. I promise, his experience is going to be a spectacular one. I’ll make sure everything is exactly the way he wants it. We’ll treat him as the celebrity he is.”
“I think Zane will just want to have a beer and a rack of ribs from D.J.’s and act like a normal person. But that won’t be possible if we get crowds. You’ll have a chance to meet him outside the hoopla, then you can cross off one of your dreams come true.”
One of her dreams come true. Did the other have to do with Dillon? She was so tempted by the idea. But she knew dreams faded away like smoke at the tip of a candle. She had to keep Emilia and her job first and foremost in her mind.
And if she and Dillon were drawn together again?
Silence stretched between them and Dillon looked sober for a moment. “I want to say this again. I know I shouldn’t have kissed you here. I don’t want to embarrass you or compromise you. But something seems to happen when we get within ten feet of each other.”
He seemed as surprised by that as she was. She could pull back, wrap herself up in her professionalism, lift her chin and walk out without another word. But where would that get her? Dillon had said Zane was a real guy. Dillon was a real guy. He said what he meant. He did what he said. She wanted to be real, too.
“I learned in the past that an attraction can lead to pain I never want to experience again. Emilia deserves a family, not moments of happiness here and there. So I have to make a wise decision. Being attracted to you confuses me, I can’t deny it. But right now I don’t know what to do with it, either.”
“So for now you want to pretend we’re boss and employee and nothing else is going on.”
“Yes,” she admitted, relieved that he understood.
After all, she was a representative of Thunder Canyon Resort. She could not let desire for Dillon fog her better judgment.
And she couldn’t fall into a month-long affair that would surely leave her with a broken heart. She couldn’t.
“I have to go,” she murmured as she broke eye contact and stepped toward the door.
“Good luck with the mayor,” Dillon said, his voice wrapping around her as his arms had a few minutes before. She nodded and hurried out of his office, not knowing what to do about the tall, broad-shouldered Texan who had done her a huge favor.
Erika was walking through the main lobby of the resort when Erin Castro called to her from the front desk. Erin was still a mystery to many people in Thunder Canyon. She’d moved to town in July and found a job waitressing at the Hitching Post. Her long blond hair and very blue eyes, along with a figure straight out of Victoria’s Secret, attracted men to her, especially when she’d been a waitress. But now she’d been hired at Thunder Canyon Resort on a temporary basis—to fill in where she was needed—and she wore more subdued makeup, often tying back her hair. Erika thought now Erin seemed to want to blend in with the crowd.
But she was still too pretty to just blend in. When Erika stopped at the desk, Erin asked, “How would you like to have lunch next week? We could get away from here and go to the Tottering Teapot.”
“That would be nice.” The bistro in town was a woman’s haven.
Erika had made friends with Erin because she seemed so much less judgmental than other employees at the resort. Her other “lunch” friend, Holly Pritchett, was out of town for a few weeks. A relaxed lunch with Erin would help them to get to know each other better.
“The buzz around here is that you’re doing a good job at putting together Frontier Days,” she commented as if she was happy for Erika.
“Just wait until everyone knows,” Erika said with a mysterious smile.
“Knows what? You act like you have a secret you can’t wait to spill.”
“It won’t be a secret for long.” She crooked her finger at Erin and they leaned close to each other. “Zane Gunther’s going to be our entertainment.”
Erin almost let out a whoop but stopped herself. “You’re not kidding, are you?”
“Nope.”
“I thought you looked excited about something. How long do I have to keep it to myself?”
“I’ll be writing press releases tonight and sending them out to anyone I think can help publicize this. So by tomorrow evening, the news should be out.”
“You look so happy I thought you’d have something good to tell me.”
A guest, a woman who looked to be in her fifties, came in the front lobby door and wheeled her suitcase to the desk. Erin turned to her immediately.
Erika said in a low voice, “Call me to set up a lunch date.”
As Erika left the lodge and headed for the parking lot, she wondered if the news about Zane Gunther had put the smile on her face … or if it had actually been the result of her kiss with Dillon.
The kiss with Dillon was winning—and that conclusion scared her.

Chapter Five
Later that afternoon, Erika returned to the infirmary as Dillon was seeing one of the guests to the door.
“Just keep that ankle taped for two days, Mrs. Bixby,” he advised a gray-haired woman in her sixties. “Make another appointment to see me when you know your schedule. And use that cane.”
The older woman smiled up at Dillon. “Maybe I can get one of those fancy canes with the flowers all over it. Or one with a nice wooden handle.” She looked down at the utilitarian cane Dillon had apparently given her.
Dillon nodded. “I’m sure one of the shops will have them. But I think it might be best if you send your husband for one. You need to stay off of that foot, remember?”
“I remember,” Mrs. Bixby grumbled as she hobbled out of the reception area into the hall.
Turning to Erika, Dillon gave her his full attention. “Was your meeting with the mayor successful?”
Just one look into Dillon’s eyes and Erika knew he was thinking about their last kiss, just as she was.
“The mayor’s easy to get along with,” she answered lightly. “He agreed with everything I want to do.”
Dillon laughed, then sobered as Mr. Lindstrom ambled into the reception area. Erika tensed, not knowing what was coming next.
After looking from Dillon to Erika, Lindstrom addressed her. “Jeff told me the truth a little while ago—about that chocolate bar. About your talk with him. Things I should have said to him. There will, of course, be no lawsuit. I should have explained better what could happen to him if his allergies got out of hand. But even I didn’t want to think about that kind of reaction, let alone put fear into him.”
Erika understood just how Mr. Lindstrom felt, the responsibility that weighed on him as a parent. Every day she had to make decisions about Emilia and she didn’t know if they were right or wrong. “I think Jeff will be more careful himself now,” she replied, knowing how guilty Lindstrom must feel.
“The two of you saved my boy’s life, and I’d like to make up for the grief I caused you.”
“You don’t need to make up for anything, Mr. Lindstrom,” Dillon assured him.
“Nevertheless, I want to. I don’t know if you’re aware of it or not, but I have a jet at my disposal,” Mr. Lindstrom explained. “I thought maybe tomorrow the two of you would like to fly to Las Vegas for the day.”
When Erika glanced at Dillon, she realized he was remaining silent because this was going to be her choice. She wasn’t quite sure what to say. But then looking into her heart, she knew what she had to do, even though she’d never traveled outside of a hundred miles of Thunder Canyon. “Mr. Lindstrom, thank you so much for the offer. I appreciate it. But with my work schedule weekends are the only real time I get to spend with my little girl. I hope you understand. I’m sure if Dillon would like to get away—”
Dillon cut in. “I appreciate your offer also, but like Erika, I’m going to decline. I’m just settling in here and I think it would be better if I stick around.”
Dave Lindstrom looked from one of them to the other. “I can see why I like the two of you. You both have a solid sense of responsibility. Well, if ever either of you need anything, just let me know.” He offered them both business cards. “All my numbers are on there. If you ever need my assistance in any way, I’ll be glad to help out. Jeff and I will be here until after Frontier Days.
“Well, I won’t keep you any longer.” He shook Dillon’s hand and then Erika’s. “I’ll be seeing both of you around.” With a grin and a wave, he left the infirmary.
“If I had said yes to the trip to Las Vegas, would you have gone?” Erika asked, knowing exactly what a trip like that with Dillon could lead to.
“I would have, if I could have gotten Dr. Babchek to cover.”
Her voice was a little shaky as she asked, “And what would the two of us have done in Las Vegas?”
“We would have gone to a show, toured the city, eaten in one of the spectacular restaurants.” Then he touched the side of her cheek with the back of his hand. “And we would have gotten to know each other a little better.”
His touch made her insides tremble and she hated feeling vulnerable to him. She hated the idea that he could get to her like this.
“And what would you have expected in return?”
Dillon tilted his head and studied her for so long she began to feel very uncomfortable. Finally, he said, “Erika, why do you expect the worst whenever you’re with a man?”
“I don’t expect the worst. I just expect to be let down.”
“Then you haven’t been associating with the right men,” he replied with a lifted brow.
She felt her cheeks burn. Was she wrong to lump him in the same category as Scott?
He checked his watch. “I’m expecting a patient in ten minutes and I need to go over her chart.”
For a moment Erika thought he was angry with her until he said, “For what it’s worth, I admire your devotion to Emilia. Only a good mother would have made the choice you did.”
Then he was walking away from her and she realized how much she wanted to be held in his arms.
“So tell me about Dr. Traub,” Constance Rodriguez said as she sat at Erika’s kitchen table after church on Sunday, watching her granddaughter pull a toy duck around the table. It quacked every once in a while, making Emilia giggle.
This conversation wasn’t going to be an easy one to have, Erika realized as she stood at the stove and flipped an omelet. “What do you want to know?”
“Do you like working for him?”
“One of the reasons I accepted the position was to have weekends off. It was so wonderful to have yesterday and today with Emilia. A seven-day rotating schedule just didn’t seem to give me as much time with her.”
“I agree, having a weekend with her must seem like a wonderful gift. But I didn’t ask if you liked the schedule.”
Erika took her attention from the frying pan and looked at her mother. “I like him.”
“More than like him?”
When she thought about their kisses, she felt her cheeks coloring. “I’ve only been working with him for a short time, Mom.”
“Erika …”
She lowered the heat on the burner, trying to decide what she wanted to say.
“Okay, I more than like him. So don’t say what you’re thinking.”
“How do you know what I’m thinking?” her mother asked ingenuously.
“I can imagine. I know the mess I’ve made of my life before. I won’t do that again. I know Dillon is leaving in a few weeks. Still—He makes me feel as if I’m his equal. He’s respectful of me and he … he …” She certainly couldn’t tell her mother that Dillon was hot, absolutely smoking hot from his head to his toes. “And he’s kind.”
“That’s not what you were going to say, Erika Rodriguez. I’m not too old to notice a good-looking man. I just don’t want you to like him for the wrong reasons.”
“What would those reasons be?”
Emilia ran around the table, the duck catching on one of the table legs. When she started to fuss, Erika crouched down, pointed to the string and showed her how to unwind her toy until it was free again.
“I understand he comes from money,” her mother said. “He’s a doctor. He’s older than you are. I can see how you would look to a man like that to … take care of you.”
“Mom, how can you say that? For the past three years, all I’ve wanted to do is to live on my own, mother on my own, take care of Emilia on my own.”
“And it’s hard, isn’t it?” Her mother’s eyes searched for the truth.
“Yes, it’s hard. But it’s also satisfying. I’m working to build a future for two. That gives me motivation and a goal. My life isn’t just about me anymore, it’s about the two of us. I don’t like Dillon because of everything you mentioned. I like him because—”
She took a breath and needed a moment to say something her mother could accept. After switching off the burner, she flipped the omelet on to a plate.
“Tell me,” her mother prompted.
“If I tell you, you’ll laugh.”
“Try me.”
“He makes me feel alive. He makes me feel like I’m more than I am.”
Her mom didn’t laugh, but now she looked really worried. “You’ve fallen for him. Erika, I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
“I don’t want to get hurt again, either, but I haven’t dated in three years, Mom. I haven’t wanted to be with a man for three years. Being near Dillon makes me want things again.” She wasn’t going to go into what those things were, but from the look on her mom’s face, Erika could tell Constance got the gist.
This time as Emilia came around the corner of the table, her sneaker bumped a chair leg and she fell. Both Erika and her mom rushed to her.
“You’re okay,” Constance assured her granddaughter. “Come on, let me help you up.”
As soon as she was standing again, Emilia toddled to her mom and wrapped her arms around her. Caught in the little girl’s embrace, Erika gazed at her mother. “Don’t worry about me, Mom, I’m going to be fine.”
Constance laid one hand on her daughter’s shoulder, and the other on her granddaughter’s hair. “I don’t know if you will be fine. But I trust you to know what’s best for you.”
Erika had been thinking and organizing and planning her future ever since the day she’d found out she was pregnant. She wouldn’t stop now just because Dillon Traub’s kisses turned her insides to mush.
All weekend, Erika had thought about how close she’d been to going to Vegas with Dillon. The idea of it gave her that going-over-the-top-of-the-Ferris-wheel feeling and she wasn’t even sure why, given what a colossal mistake that would have been.
Yet as she locked her purse in her desk drawer Monday morning and switched on the computer, she knew she looked forward to seeing him in spite of every good reason to keep her distance. Because Dillon was as punctual as she was, Erika listened for the sound of his footsteps. She was sipping her cup of coffee when she heard them.
Something was different. His stride was usually quick and smooth with an athlete’s agility. This morning, however, when he appeared beside her desk, she knew something was definitely wrong. There was a scrape on his jaw and his breathing was deliberate and slow.
“What happened to you?” she asked, knowing whatever had, it was none of her business.
A smile broke slowly across his lips. “I scored.”
For a moment, his words didn’t compute. Then she realized he’d been involved in some kind of sport.
“I don’t suppose you were bowling?” she asked with a lifted brow.
He laughed and put a hand across his ribs. Shaking his head, he said, “Touch football.”
“With enemies or friends?”
“Dax, Marlon Cates and a few others.”
He took a deep breath and seemed to wish he hadn’t. In fact, he’d even gone a little pale.
She hurried around the desk and stood very close to him. “Are you sure you’re all right? Maybe you should call Dr. Babcheck and just go up to the suite and rest.”
Now he looked a little angry. Straightening, he dropped his arm to his side as if to prove he was fine. “Just a few bruised ribs. I don’t need to call my backup. I’ll be in my office if anyone needs me.”
Then as if he didn’t want her asking any more questions or studying him further, he went down the hall to his office, his posture almost in a military stance as if he had to prove something to her.
As Erika answered the phone, fed information to reporters about Zane’s concert, worked on schedules for activities for Frontier Days and made multiple lists for everything she still had to do, she found herself worrying about Dillon and wanting to check on him. Because he was her employer?
Hardly.
Because he’d kissed her?
It wasn’t just that, either.
At lunchtime, she decided she really needed to look in on him. She could do that easily. She’d ask him if there was anything he wanted for lunch, even though he’d told her she didn’t have to do that.
But when she stood before his closed door, knocking didn’t seem easy after all. Gathering her courage, she did it anyway.
He called, “Come in,” with less forcefulness than usual, she thought.
Dillon was seated at his desk, a medical journal open in front of him. She noticed some papers that had apparently floated off the printer and onto the floor. Automatically she went to them to pick them up.
“I can get those,” he told her and stooped to do it. But when he did, she could see his grimace, the pain evident on his face with his quick intake of breath.
“Dillon,” she said gently, crouching down beside him, scooping up the papers that had fallen there. “You shouldn’t be here. In fact, I’m pretty sure you should be at the emergency room. You need to see a doctor.”
“I am a doctor, Erika. Even if I cracked a rib, there’s nothing I can do for it but let it heal.”
He was one stubborn man, but that didn’t surprise her. Males usually were stubborn. She dismissed the fact that she could be, too. “Just what would you tell a patient in your condition?” she challenged him.
“I’d tell a patient to rest,” he grumbled, almost under his breath.
She clasped his forearm and when she did, the connection she felt to him was hot and tingling. “And maybe you’d advise them to take some pain medication?”
“I’m not taking pain medication,” he snapped. “I’ll tough this out today and I’ll be fine tomorrow.”
Exasperated with him, she stood. “I could call Ruthann and ask her to come in a little early.”
“Her regular hours are fine. I’m fine.”
“Sure you are, and I’m Miss U.S.A.”
Now he cracked a grin. “You could be.”
“That’s not in my life plan.”
He turned serious now. “Just what is your life plan, other than becoming a resort manager someday?”
“It’s not complicated. I just want to be a good mother to Emilia and help her grow into an independent young woman.”
“But what do you want for yourself?”
“I haven’t had time to think about that.”
“I think you’ve thought about it, but you were so hurt by your last relationship you’ve closed off the possibility of another one.”
At his all-too-perceptive comment, Erika suddenly realized how badly she wanted to avoid this subject. For the past three years, she’d shut down desires and dreams. Dillon confused her and almost made her want to resurrect them again. But that risk was just too great.
Moving around his desk, she automatically picked up his empty coffee cup and tossed it into the waste can. “I’ll be away from my desk for a little while. I’m meeting a friend in town for lunch, then taking care of last-minute ads with downtown businesses.”
After a few silent beats, he said huskily, “You’re evading again.”
Turning on her heel to face him, she said, “I’m just evading for now.”
“All right.”
“I can bring you a sandwich from the deli before I leave.”
“I’m not hungry. If I want something later, I’ll go get it.”
“You’re acting like a macho male.”
He gave a shrug. “What makes you think I’m not?
You’re my receptionist, Erika, not my nurse. You’re not getting paid to hover.”
She knew the expression on her face gave away the hurt she felt at his words, and she knew what she had to do. Leave.
Turning away quickly so he couldn’t see her expression, she said, “I’ll buzz you when I’m back.”
On her way out of his office, she thought he called her name.
She just kept walking.
After Erika returned from her appointments in town, the late afternoon turned busy. The phone rang, with one of the guests calling in to say she thought she had the stomach flu. Erika told her to come right down. While Dillon was examining her, another guest called. He’d sprained his ankle while golfing. A newly checked-in patron had wrenched her back while pulling her suitcase. And so it went. It was just one of those days and as Dillon came to the reception area after his last appointment, he looked pale. From his furrowed brow and the lines around his eyes, Erika could tell he was in pain. She hated seeing him like this. But he’d made clear that he didn’t want her help.
Ruthann had arrived so Dillon didn’t linger, just left the infirmary, telling Erika he’d see her tomorrow.
He should stay in bed tomorrow and let himself heal, she thought to herself. But Dillon obviously didn’t want advice on what was good for him and what wasn’t.
Erika’s own work kept her tied to her computer for a while longer. Yet she couldn’t take her mind off of Dillon—the way he’d looked when he left, how he’d hidden his symptoms from his patients all afternoon.
Since she was planning Frontier Days, she’d been given a card key to take the elevator to the penthouse floor, in addition to all the other floors. Closer to the event, she’d be posting signs and erecting billboards advertising all aspects of the festival. The resort’s aim wasn’t only to attract tourists to Thunder Canyon and the lodge, but to encourage their guests to attend all the activities in town, supporting businesses there, encouraging guests to return the following year.
Erika thought about the card key. She could just go up to Dillon’s suite and knock on his door. If he didn’t answer, he was probably resting and she’d just leave again. Or maybe not. She might try to phone him from outside the suite just to make sure he was okay.
Her mother was used to her working late so a few more minutes wouldn’t matter. Dillon’s health was important to her, though she didn’t examine all the reasons why too closely.
The plush carpeting in the hall muffled her footsteps as she approached his door. Wrought-iron sconces with their candlelight bulbs on the wall lit her way. Outside his door, she hesitated and knocked.
When she heard a muffled, “Just a minute,” from inside, she was relieved.
He opened the door and looked astonished to see her. “Erika! I was expecting room service.”
“Sorry, I’m empty-handed,” she joked.
He was wearing a gray sweatshirt and sweatpants and didn’t look much better than when he’d left downstairs. “Is something wrong? Did you need something?”
“I was worried about you,” she blurted out. “You looked terrible when you left. The truth is you don’t look much better right now.”
“Oh, thanks. That’s great for the ego.” Amusement danced in his eyes, along with the pain he must be feeling. “Come on in. I really do need to sit down,” he said with a loud exhale of breath.
He crossed to the living room and sank down onto the sofa.
She hurried to him and sat beside him. “You really should go to the emergency room, Dillon.”
“Let’s not go over this again. As soon as room service comes, I’ll eat dinner, get a shower, ice my ribs and go to sleep for the night.”
She should leave. She really should. But sitting next to him on the sofa like this, her arm lodged against his, her knee almost brushing his, she felt the urge to stay, even though she knew she couldn’t.
“How long ago did you call room service?”
“Only about ten minutes. It could be a little while until they arrive if they’re busy.”
Their gazes connected … held. Erika could see Dillon’s beard stubble. She wanted to smooth her hand over his jaw and comfort him in some way.
“Tell me about Scott Spencerman,” he requested.
That was the last thing she’d expected him to say. “Why?”
“Because your experience with him affected your life and I’d like to understand.”
“I don’t talk about Scott. He’s in my past.”
“Is he? Or is he the reason you don’t want to think about getting closer to me?”
Her heart ticked off a few vibrating seconds until she replied, “There are lots of reasons why I shouldn’t get closer to you.”
“I know. There are a lot of reasons why I shouldn’t get close to you, too. But here we are. So tell me about him.”
Sitting beside Dillon like this on his sofa felt intimate, though Erika wasn’t sure why. They were just sitting there talking, fully dressed, with no intention of doing anything else. Maybe it was the subject matter. Maybe it was Dillon’s voice, gravelly and gentle and encouraging.
After taking in a deep breath, she blew it out and stared straight head. “I was young and naive,” she murmured. “After high school, I waitressed, took a couple of business courses and finally ended up in that real-estate office. I was itchy for something else, not sure what I wanted, still living with my mother. I wasn’t … I didn’t …” She cast Dillon a sideways glance, intending to look away again. But his gaze locked to hers.
“I didn’t sleep around,” she finally said bluntly. “I dated, but not for sex. I was looking for somebody special. When I met the right person and we fell in love, then sex would mean something. Scott seemed to be everything I’d ever wanted. I wasn’t experienced enough to understand he never intended to stay in Thunder Canyon. More importantly, he never intended to take me with him if he didn’t. When he talked about Rome and Singapore and Cancun, I thought in the future we’d go there together as a couple … as a married couple. I didn’t see the warning signs. He’d only see me on certain nights at certain times. I just figured he had calls to make and business to take care of. It wasn’t until afterward I found out he was also dating someone in Bozeman. Everyone gossiped about me, but no one told me the truth.”
Dillon took her hand in his. “Would you have wanted to see the truth? Would you have listened?”
No one had ever asked her that question. She gave it a long moment of thought. “Maybe not. But when I became pregnant and Scott told me he never wanted to get serious, that he wasn’t just dating me, that he’d be leaving soon, I didn’t see it coming. I was so foolish,” she said shaking her head.
“You were young without much experience with men.”
“I was stupid. But Emilia is the wonderful result. She’s helped me grow up and I love her to pieces. Now I’m just grateful I have her and I try to forget the rest.”
“How often do you hear from him?”
“Never. He’s not in our lives. When he left, he made it clear he wanted nothing else to do with me, or a baby.”
“He doesn’t pay child support?”
“When I was out of work after Emilia’s delivery, I considered trying to find him. But if he paid child support, I’m afraid he’d want something in return. If he doesn’t care about his daughter, I don’t want him anywhere near her. I’ll raise her on my own.”
“Does he know he has a daughter?”
“No. But if she wants to search for him one day, I’ll help her. For now, it’s just the two of us and that’s okay. We’ve got a good life.”
“I can’t imagine a man wanting nothing to do with his child,” Dillon murmured.
“That’s because you’re a different kind of man,” Erika said, part of her knowing it, part of her afraid to believe it. That pained expression was back in Dillon’s eyes … as if he didn’t agree with her assessment. But he lifted their hands, studied their entwined fingers and leaned a little closer to her.
She lifted her chin, anticipating his kiss, ready to feel his arms around her again.
He enfolded her in his arms, began a heart-tripping kiss, but then pulled away. “You’ve had a raw deal once and I don’t want that to happen again. In a few weeks, I’ll be leaving. We both need to remember that.”
The problem was she still wanted him to kiss her, even though she knew he’d be leaving. Was she willing to risk falling in love with Dillon Traub—and having her heart broken all over again if she did?

Chapter Six
Fifteen minutes later, Erika paced Dillon’s living room. She’d agreed to stay until he was finished in the shower. What if the pain in his ribs suddenly got worse?
Dillon had left his cell phone on the occasional table next to the sofa. Just as she heard the shower turn off in the bathroom, his phone chimed. Crossing to it, she picked it up and saw Dr. Babchek’s number in the caller ID.
Hurrying to Dillon’s bedroom, she peeked inside the open door. Apparently Dillon was still in the bathroom. “Dr. Babchek’s on your cell,” she called. “Should I answer?”
The bathroom door opened a crack. “Yes. Thanks. I’ll be out in two minutes.”
She opened the phone and greeted the caller, just as she would if she were sitting outside Dillon’s office. “Good evening, Dr. Babchek. This is Erika Rodriguez, Dr. Traub’s receptionist. Can you hold for about two minutes?”
“I can hold,” Dr. Babchek told her in a deep voice that wasn’t the least bit impatient.
Erika retreated to the hall outside of Dillon’s bedroom. It didn’t seem right to be inside.
When he finally emerged, her breath caught. His hair was still damp from his shower and looked tousled, as though he’d run a towel over it. He was wearing black jogging shorts but there were still beads of water in his chest hair and on his very muscled upper arms. He might as well have been naked the way her heart was racing.
When his gaze landed on her, she blushed and handed him the phone. Although she’d been overwhelmed by the virility emanating from Dillon, she’d still caught sight of the bruising on his left side, which looked bad even to her untrained eye.
She walked beside him into the living room as he said into his phone, “Ron. It’s good to talk to you again. I wondered if you could cover for me tomorrow morning at the resort. I have an appointment at Thunder Canyon General Hospital.”
The doctor must have answered him in the affirmative because Dillon stopped before heading into the living room and nodded. “That’s great. I’ll let Ruthann know you’ll be there until noon.”
When Dillon closed his phone, Erika couldn’t help but ask, “Are you getting checked out at the hospital?”
He shook his head. “You worry too much. No, this is business. I have an appointment with the Chief of Staff.”
She supposed it wasn’t unusual for doctors to consult with each other and she had no right to delve into Dillon’s business.
“If you didn’t have to get home to Emilia, I’d ask you to have dinner with me tonight,” he said casually.
Her gaze lingered on his eyes and then his lips and then his upper body. She swallowed hard. “I do have to get home.”
When he set his hands on her shoulders, her stomach somersaulted. He asked, “Why did you come up to my suite tonight?”
She licked suddenly dry lips. “I told you I was worried about you.”
Silence wound about them, intensifying pheromones, need and awareness. Whatever bond they were forming drew them closer together. Erika breathed in Dillon’s freshly showered scent, longed to feel his skin against hers.
When Dillon wrapped his arms around her, she wound hers around his neck. His body was hard against hers. His mouth took its time with her as he nibbled at her upper lip and lined it with his tongue. She touched his upper lip with hers, thinking that would be the tinder that burst their kiss into flame. But he apparently had more self-control than she did because his lips trailed kisses across her cheek and down her neck. She moaned, feeling weightless in his arms.
Every thought skittered away into pure physical sensation. Then his hands were in her hair, his lips sealed to hers, and the taut pressure gave way to erotic invasion. His kiss seemed to go on forever. She responded to every thrust of his tongue, playing a game of tease and retreat. She felt the shudder that ran through his body and knew they were both dabbling with desire that could explode and hurt them both. Still she couldn’t seem to get enough and neither could he. If his ribs were bothering him, desire must have overridden any discomfort he felt.
The kiss might have urged them to his couch. They might have ended up in his bedroom. But she’d never know because there was a knock at his door.
They both froze.
Dillon pulled away from her just a few inches, called, “Just a minute,” and kept her in his embrace.
She had to find her composure and quickly. This had been a test and she’d failed it miserably. If that knock hadn’t sounded on the door—
She backed away from Dillon … a good foot away. With a deep breath, she let her gaze trail down his upper body again, and it settled on his bruises. She brushed them lightly with the back of her hand, and he winced, obviously in greater pain than he was willing to admit. “While you’re at the hospital tomorrow, please get this checked out.”
She felt his hot gaze on her as she crossed to the table and picked up her purse. Then she went to the door and opened it, welcoming the waiter and Dillon’s supper … escaping back to a life that was safe.
The following evening, Dillon walked up to Erika’s house and pressed her doorbell. Today he had been suddenly aware of time ticking away. He was dissatisfied with allowing his career to become his life. Considering the past few years, he was downright fatigued by beating himself up about his failed marriage … about the god-complex he and other doctors had that they could cure a child in spite of the odds. He also realized he needed to remember Toby well—not sick—and the good times they’d experienced, rather than all the moments he’d missed.
He’d spent the morning at the hospital, thinking about his future, discussing options with the Chief of Staff who understood the needs of Thunder Canyon residents. By the time he’d returned to his office, Erika had gone for the afternoon, working to finalize events for Frontier Days. He’d missed her. He didn’t know what this feeling of connection to her was, but he needed to pursue it.
So here he was, standing at her front door, rationalizing why he’d come, why he was carrying a present for her daughter.
Before he’d left the resort, he’d been steeped in decisions about what came after September. Should he accept the offer to join the concierge practice in Texas? Should he stay near his family? Should he make a move and maybe find a new life in Montana? He was grateful he had choices, but the choice right now didn’t seem clear. This evening, getting away from the resort and his suite had just seemed like a good idea.
The chime from Erika’s doorbell echoed inside. He felt a rush of adrenaline when she answered the door wearing a thigh-length red sweater and black leggings. Her mass of loose waves tumbled around her shoulders and all Dillon wanted to do was run his fingers through them.
Her brown eyes were huge with questions. “This is a surprise.”
Her gaze ran over his black sweater and khakis, and he liked the fact that she looked at him the way he looked at her. “I should have called.”
“But you didn’t.”
She was the kind of woman who wouldn’t let him get away with anything. “If I had called, you could have easily given me an excuse not to see me. Are you busy?”
As if on cue, Emilia’s voice came from inside. “Mommy, pway.”
“I’m a mom,” she reminded him. “I’m always busy.
But I’ve fed Emilia supper and this is our winding-down time. Come on in. How are your ribs?”
“They’re better. Nothing is broken.” He’d had them x-rayed while he was at the hospital.
“Did you have supper?”
“Yes. Sue dropped off some of her soup and homemade bread.”
“She’s a good cook.”
Whereas Erika’s living room had been straightened up the last time he was here, now it had a different look because it had been a two-year-old’s play area for the past couple of hours. Sofa cushions stood cockeyed against the furniture with a blanket draped over the top. Stuffed animals, dolls and doll clothes lay scattered across the rug. Children’s books covered the top of the coffee table, while a coloring book and crayons were left abandoned on the easy chair. The whole atmosphere gave his heart a pang that was warning him he’d made a mistake by coming.
Erika scooped up a few toys and cut him a sideways glance. “Be careful not to trip over anything.”
Emilia was on her hands and knees peeking out of her hideaway at him.
“Hi, there,” he said, crouching down. “Remember me?”
She grinned and crawled out a little farther. “Doctor, doctor.”
“She remembers,” he murmured, stunned by the wonderful-terrible recall of a child. Toby had been like that, too—quick to remember, quick to make friends.
“She remembers what she wants to remember, so you must have made an impression,” Erika joked.
“That could be good or bad,” he said drily. “Come here, Emilia, I have something for you.” He wiggled the box.
Emilia scrambled out from under the cushions and blanket, pushed herself to her feet and ran over to him. One of her little overall straps was falling over her shoulder. She bumped against Dillon’s knees, holding on to them to balance herself.
He pushed her shoulder strap up where it belonged on top of the little white blouse covered with dancing dogs. “Would you like to open this?”
He set the box on the floor because it was too big for her to handle. Emilia squatted down beside it.
Erika said, “What do you say, baby?”
“Tank you,” Emilia told Dillon with a little smile.
“You’re very welcome. I hope you like it.”
Dillon helped Emilia with the package, which pictured a busy box with lights and music on the box.
“I already put the batteries in,” he told Erika.
“You’ve thought of everything.” Her eyes were full of questions, questions he didn’t know if he could answer.
After Dillon helped Emilia open the box and extract the toy, he pressed one of the buttons. A tiger popped up, music played and a blue light flashed.
“Oh, she’s going to love this,” Erika murmured. “Lights and music fascinate her right now.” She dropped to the floor beside her daughter and sat cross-legged, grinning as Emilia pushed the next button and an elephant popped up with a green light flashing.
Emilia giggled. Pointing to the elephant, she said, “Dumbo.”
“That’s the elephant in one of her books,” Erika explained, with a mother’s pride that her daughter was learning.
As Dillon watched mother and daughter, as he joined in laughing with them, seeing Emilia learn, his heart burned with remembered warmth. The feeling was bittersweet. Pictures of hugging Toby, reading to him and kissing him good-night played across a screen in his mind. Then it was swiftly followed by a feeling of powerlessness because he hadn’t been able to keep his son from slipping away.
Suddenly Emilia stopped playing with the toy. She climbed to her feet, ran to Dillon and held her little arms up to him. “Huggy, huggy,” she said as if he should know what that meant.
Dillon sought Erika’s gaze for translation.
“She wants a hug, and she wants to hug you.”
With a lump in his throat, Dillon wrapped his arms around Emilia and, ignoring the pain in his side, lifted her onto his lap. He gave her a hug and she hugged him back, burying her face in his sweater.
He ran his hand over her wavy hair, feeling his throat tighten.
“I think she’s getting sleepy.” Erika’s voice was low and husky and he wondered what she was thinking. But she didn’t tell him as she gathered Emilia from his arms. “Come on, honey.”
But Emilia began fussing and pointing to the toy Dillon had given her.
“All right. We can take it to your room. But you can’t have it in bed with you.”
“I’ll bring it,” Dillon said.
Erika’s gaze sought his. “This could take a little while. Sometimes the last thing she wants to do is go to sleep.”
“D.J.’s wife, Allaire, told me the same thing about their little boy.”
“You said he’s two, right?” Erika asked as they climbed the staircase to Emilia’s room.
“Yes. A couple of months older than Emilia.”
“And your cousin Dax has children, too?”
“His wife, Shandie, had a little girl when they married, but Dax is as bonded to her as he is to his son.”
Emilia was babbling now to herself and Erika kissed her little girl’s cheek.
Dillon felt a band of painful longing tighten around his heart.
Emilia’s room was painted yellow. There were cutouts of Winnie the Pooh, Tigger and Eeyore on the walls. Dillon felt as if he had no right to be part of this nightly ritual, but the urge to watch mother and daughter was strong and he leaned against the doorway.
Erika was totally caught up in changing Emilia … and slipping her little nightshirt decorated with lollipops over her head. All the while, she spoke to her. “Soon we’ll have to find you some pj’s with footsies.”
“She’ll probably enjoy the snow this year,” Dillon offered, suddenly needing to be part of the conversation, not wanting to feel like an outsider.
Erika tossed a look over her shoulder as she sat Emilia on the changing table, holding onto her at her waist. “She’ll be fascinated by it,” Erika agreed. “And I can’t wait for the holidays. She’ll be able to dip her hands in the cookie dough, notice the angel on top of the tree and maybe understand a little of the magic of the season.”
“You still find it magical?”
Erika nodded, then added, “And holy.”
The true meaning of Christmas had fallen by the wayside for Dillon. Since Toby had died and Megan had left, all the holiday meant was a dinner with his mother and Peter and his brothers and sister. But suddenly, standing here with Erika and her little girl, he saw even that dinner in a different light. A family was bigger than the sum of its individual parts, much bigger. Maybe his resentful feelings about Peter had been one more element that had marred his marriage and his feelings about his family for too many years.
As Erika carried Emilia to her crib, she said, “You look as if you’re deep in thought.”
“Not too deep,” he returned nonchalantly, but he could see she wasn’t buying it.
She took a stuffed dog from the corner of the crib and handed it to Emilia. Her daughter tucked the dog into her body like the precious comfort that it was.
“Can you say good-night to Dr. Dillon?” Erika asked her.
Emilia held on to the crib railing, rocking back and forth from one foot to the other. Then she smiled at him and said, “Nighty-night, Dr. Diwwon.”
The tug toward mother and child was so strong Dillon couldn’t resist. Crossing to them, he gave Emilia a good-night hug. “Nighty-night, little one.” Then in turmoil because of conflicting emotions, he said, “I’ll wait downstairs,” and left the nursery.
Fifteen minutes later, he’d straightened the books on the coffee table and righted the cushions on the sofa. Erika descended the stairs, adjusted the baby monitor on the side table and sank down on the couch a few inches away from him.
“Thank you,” she said, motioning to the room. “You didn’t have to straighten up.”
“I needed something to do.”

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