A Cowboy's Kiss

by Trish Milburn

  Anna smiled. “That sounds like something she’d do. Books have a way of taking our minds off our troubles.”

  “I bet that’s an effective marketing strategy for the library.”

  “Not one I voice, but admittedly I’ve directed people toward books I’ve thought might help them get through certain hard times in their lives.”

  “Did a librarian do that for you at some point?”

  Her eyes widened a fraction at his question.

  “I’m sorry. That was too personal.” What was up with him?

  After a moment’s hesitation, she shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by a doctor—a good one—being perceptive.”

  “More logic than perception. Makes sense that someone like that might have influenced you.”

  “And yet it wasn’t. I sort of found my own way. I don’t know if you remember Mrs. Thatcher, the librarian at the public library when we were kids, but she wasn’t really one for being…um…helpful.”

  “Oh, I remember her. I also remember when Mom read the Hansel and Gretel fairy tale to us and Wes was convinced Mrs. Thatcher was the witch in the story.”

  Anna laughed. “Okay, she was crotchety, but I don’t think she ate children.”

  He lifted a brow. “You never know.”

  They continued to talk about things they remembered from their growing-up years until he noticed her yawn a couple of times. And her eyes were looking heavy.

  “Okay, that’s enough for today. Someone needs her rest.”

  “You’d think after being conked out for a week, I wouldn’t need to sleep so much.”

  “Your body is still healing from the shock of what you went through, and sleep is often the best medicine.”

  Despite the fact she needed help getting from the chair to the bed, he could feel a new strength in her as she held on to his arm. But she was still taxed for the day, evidenced by how her legs wobbled as they neared the side of the bed. Her grip tightened on his arm.

  “I’ve got you.”

  When she sank onto the edge of the bed, she looked up at him with gratitude and something else he couldn’t pinpoint before she lowered her gaze. And going against the distance he should be keeping, his gaze lowered to her lips. They were so close. Too close.

  Startled by his thoughts, he released her and retreated a step. Shifting his gaze away from her, he pulled back the covers and let her heave herself up into the bed and adjust her gown.

  “I should have asked Paige to bring me some pajamas. These hospital gowns leave a lot to be desired.”

  “It does seem like someone with a terrible sense of humor designed them, doesn’t it?” Good, go back to the witty banter. Maybe he’d forget the startling moment of attraction that had hit him, one that didn’t make a lot of sense because he’d known Anna for years. Not well, true, but one would think if there was going to be an attraction, it would have shown itself a long time ago.

  It was just empathy and a realization that behind the quiet, unassuming librarian was a funny, interesting woman. One who happened to be pretty.

  When he glanced at her face again, her expression had changed. Gone was any joking about the indignities of hospital attire or even the grim concentration needed to get from point A to point B. In their place was a pinched look of concern.

  “Are you in pain?”

  She met his gaze. “No. Well, no more than usual. It’s just…”

  Despite his need to distance himself until his odd feelings went away, he sank onto the edge of her bed, though careful not to touch her.

  “What?”

  “I’m still afraid to go to sleep. Afraid if I do, I might never wake up again.”

  “I can’t guarantee anything, of course, but based on the evidence I think that’s highly unlikely.”

  She still looked worried, so as he reached for her hand he told himself it was because of his experience as a physician, caregiver, allayer of concerns. But as he wrapped her smaller, cooler hand in his, he wasn’t able to ignore the way he liked how the contact felt.

  “I’d be more concerned if you’d been in a coma longer, but since waking you’ve been doing well.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so needy.”

  “You’re not. And don’t apologize. You’re entitled to your feelings and concerns.” And then it hit him that one of the fears she hadn’t voiced was one he could remember so vividly, as if his own hospitalization had been only days ago instead of years. The fear of being alone. “How about I stay until you fall asleep?”

  She shook her head. “You’ve already spent so much time with me. I don’t want to take up any more.”

  “I’m not neglecting any patients, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m done for the day.”

  “Then you should go home, get your own rest.”

  “I’m fine right where I am. Besides, if I were a betting man I’d lay good money on you being asleep inside five minutes.”

  “Oh, so it’s not much of a commitment.”

  He smiled. “Busted.”

  Even though she might fall asleep quickly, he still felt awkward sitting in silence holding her hand. So he reached over and picked up the book on the nightstand, opened to the page he’d marked, and began to read.

  She was asleep before he finished a single page, but he didn’t immediately release her hand. Instead, he looked at how dainty it seemed in his much bigger one. Her skin was so pale and soft compared to the tan and calluses that came from still helping around his family’s ranch when he had days off. Before he could think about why he was doing it, he ran his thumb across the back of her hand.

  When he shifted his gaze to her face, she looked more relaxed than he’d seen her since she’d awakened from her coma. He resisted the urge to push her hair away from her cheeks, not wanting to wake her. Because the more she rested, the quicker she’d heal. And the quicker she left the hospital, the quicker the unexpected temptation she presented would be gone.

  He couldn’t quite ignore the hollowing disappointment that settled in his chest at the thought of no longer having his visits with her to look forward to each day. Because he did look forward to them. He just hadn’t fully realized it until this moment.

  And he had no idea what to do about it. Or if he should.

  *

  Anna got through another day of tests, somewhat more palatable food and rehab by looking forward to seeing Roman. She knew it wasn’t wise, but she couldn’t seem to help it. Every time she thought about what they might talk about when he arrived, her grandmother’s voice intruded, telling her to not be a fool like her mother had been, to use the common sense God gave a goose. Men of means only liked women of lesser means for one thing and one thing only. When they were done, they tossed the woman aside like a used tissue.

  But no matter how much her grandmother had hammered that belief into Anna’s head, she had trouble imagining Roman treating anyone that way. He was one of the most caring people she’d ever met, a reflection of his mother.

  “You’re doing great,” Jay said as he got her seated back in the recliner she was beginning to hate. “Before long you’re not going to need any help at all.”

  “Amazing what not wanting to look at these four walls again can do.”

  “Well, you’re in luck. You won’t have to look at them at all tomorrow.”

  That statement surprised her. She knew she’d be moving to the rehab facility down the street, but she didn’t know when.

  “I hadn’t heard that. Can’t wait to get rid of me, huh?”

  “Oh, you’re not getting rid of me. I work there, too, and you’ll still be stuck with me.”

  At least she didn’t have to start over with a physical therapist she didn’t know. Needing help to even walk was frustrating enough, but at least she and Jay had clicked.

  “Dr. White signed off on the transfer this morning, so as soon as the staff gets your dismissal paperwork done and arranges for a ride over there, yo
u’ll be good to go.”

  She was surprised Roman hadn’t said anything the night before, but maybe he hadn’t heard about the results of the scans she’d undergone yesterday morning. Or maybe he hadn’t felt it was his place and left it to the professionals in charge of her care. She’d ask him when he arrived for his rounds, which hopefully would happen before she moved.

  But when a doctor walked into her room an hour later, it wasn’t Roman but rather another attractive young man, her actual assigned physician, Dr. Mills.

  “Hello, Ms. Kenner. How are you feeling today?”

  “Fine.” She glanced toward the empty doorway but quickly shifted her gaze back to Dr. Mills so he wouldn’t deduce her thoughts.

  But she couldn’t help wondering if Roman knew she was moving today, if he would find time to come say goodbye. Or had he figured out how much she enjoyed his visits and why and decided to avoid further contact because he wasn’t interested in the same way or feared professional repercussions even though he wasn’t her doctor?

  Perhaps it was as simple as him being busy at the clinic, and she was inventing scenarios that were pure fiction. Or maybe now that she was out of the danger zone, he was refocusing his energy on his actual patients and not someone with whom he was a casual friend at best. And yet… She sighed, realizing she’d allowed herself to do exactly what her grandmother had always warned her against—letting her expectations outpace reality. Sure, Roman was a nice guy, but that was all. Maybe they’d have an added degree of familiarity when they happened to cross paths from now on, but her imagining them as close friends wasn’t realistic. Their lives were nothing alike despite the fact they shared a hometown.

  It likely had just been the boredom and loneliness and, honestly, a level of fear of being in the hospital that had made her latch on to his visits with such mental intensity. Now she was taking one more step toward going home, toward getting back to her nice, normal life.

  “Are you okay?”

  She looked up to see Dr. Mills watching her. “Yeah.”

  “You looked a million miles away there for a moment.”

  “Just happy to be leaving this room behind.”

  “Understandable. You’ve made remarkable progress so far.”

  She had to admit she liked that bit of praise, but a voice in her head whispered that she would have liked it more if Roman had voiced it. She really needed to get back to Logan Springs where she only saw him occasionally. Where she rarely even thought about him. She hated how now she wondered if it was possible to go back to a life in which Roman McQueen hardly ever crossed her mind.

  But she had to. Nothing good came of wanting something you couldn’t have. Her family was generational evidence of that truth. She’d stretched in certain aspects of her life, the first in her family to get a college degree and have a professional career, but romantic relationships were another story altogether. In that area, it was much easier to believe the words she could still hear in her grandmother’s voice. Romance was more dangerous because it involved her heart.

  The next couple of hours seemed to crawl by as she waited for the dismissal and transfer, and as she found her heart leaping every time someone approached her door. But Roman didn’t show. Despite what she knew to be true, she couldn’t help that her heart sank as they wheeled her out of her room late in the afternoon, leaving her ladder poster with its star stickers and cartoon milkshake behind.

  With nothing to look forward to once she arrived at the rehab facility but more work, she used the phone in her room to call Paige to tell her about her relocation. She started to ask Paige to bring her laptop the next time she visited, but then she remembered she wasn’t supposed to look at screens for long as her brain healed. Not to mention the fact that her laptop was one of the things that had been stolen. The full weight of everything she’d lost—car, phone, laptop, TV and even the nice coffeemaker she’d splurged on last Christmas—pressed down on her, causing tears to pool in her eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” Paige asked.

  “Nothing. Just tired.”

  “Bull. I don’t even have to see you to know something’s bothering you.”

  “I just want this over with and to go home, back to normal.”

  “You’ll get there.”

  “I want to be there.”

  “I know. This all sucks, but it has to be done.”

  Paige Hamilton, the voice of reason.

  Anna sighed. “I know.”

  “Has something else upset you?”

  Anna bit her lip, wishing she didn’t have to reply when tears felt so imminent.

  “You didn’t get bad news, did you?”

  “No, nothing like that.” Anna debated how much to tell her friend and decided on a partial truth. “It just hit me how much all this is going to cost. I wish I knew if someone else caused this or if it was my fault. It’s frustrating that I might never know. And I guess it doesn’t really matter because the end result is the same.”

  “I know this is hard, and in your position I’d likely be worrying about the same things. But what’s done is done, and you’re not alone. You have lots of people who love you, who are willing to help however we can. I know you’re super independent, but you’re going to have to accept some help whether you like it or not.”

  Anna thought Paige was stretching the whole “lots of people love you” thing a good bit, but she wasn’t going to argue with the person who probably cared for her more than anyone else on the planet.

  “I’m working both jobs tomorrow, but I’ll come up and see you in between.”

  “You don’t need to do that. I’m fine.”

  “You don’t sound fine.”

  “Just a bout of self-pity. All I need is a good night’s sleep.”

  Anna suspected she was lying to herself, but she hoped Paige couldn’t hear that in her voice. Maybe if she told herself this sense of loss was temporary enough times, she’d wake up tomorrow and it would be true.

  Chapter Five

  Roman was finishing up his half day of work on Saturday by doing rounds at the hospital when he stepped across the doorway into what had been Anna’s room before he remembered she wasn’t there anymore. He supposed he’d spent so much time in this room over the past couple of weeks that it had become second nature.

  He had no idea how many patients—his and those of other physicians—he’d seen come and go from this hospital since he’d started working in Livingston, but the odd sense of loss at having someone get better enough to leave was new. And the strange feelings he’d started having around Anna had been what had led him to take the coward’s way out by deliberately not visiting her the day before. Even though he hadn’t once visited her in his professional capacity, he didn’t want there to be even a hint of impropriety. Though he had to admit that not a single person had indicated they thought anything of the sort was going on. In fact, everyone seemed to accept at face value that he was simply keeping an injured friend company.

  Maybe his new avoidance of Anna didn’t really have anything to do with a fear of accusations of impropriety at all.

  Roman tried to justify disappearing on her by telling himself that it wasn’t as if he’d never see Anna again. She’d have follow-up appointments with Andrew, after all. But he’d needed a bit of distance to remind himself that she was in a vulnerable position and he couldn’t take advantage of that, even unconsciously. And even though he might spend more time with patients than some doctors, even some who weren’t his, there were lines one did not cross. And he’d felt himself inexplicably tipping over it. Best to retreat while he could.

  After checking in with his final two patients, he headed toward the exit.

  “Hey, Dr. McQueen.”

  He looked over to see Bella, a member of the housekeeping staff who also happened to be one of his patients.

  “Hello, Bella. How are you?”

  “Doing well, thank you. Listen, when I was cleaning Anna’s room, I found a couple of things that got le
ft behind. I was wondering if you might be able to get them to her since you two are friends.”

  The rational part of him urged him to tell Bella to just have the hospital mail the items to Anna’s address or have someone run them over to the rehab facility. But then he realized he was being ridiculous. Since everyone was aware they knew each other, it wouldn’t seem odd for him to check up on her after her transfer.

  “Sure.”

  Bella disappeared into the janitor’s closet for a few seconds before reemerging with the mystery novel and the ladder poster. The sight of those two things struck him in the middle. Both had been attempts to help her get better, actions he felt his mom would have been proud of, and because of a bit of unexpected attraction he’d abandoned that mission. That didn’t speak highly of him.

  He accepted the book and poster. “Thanks. I’ll see she gets them.”

  Bella patted his arm. “She’s lucky she has you as a friend.”

  The praise caught him off guard. “That’s nice of you to say.”

  “Nothing but the truth,” she said as she smiled and headed down the corridor with her cleaning cart. “Nothing but the truth.”

  Roman was due at his dad’s house later for a family barbecue, but he had time to make the delivery he’d promised. When he walked into the rehab facility, however, the look on Jay Eaton’s face when he saw Roman sent a jolt of worry through him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m not sure.” Jay motioned for him to follow him out of the entryway and out of earshot of the handful of people there. “Something changed with Anna since I saw her before the transfer from the hospital. I mean, she did her rehab, pushed herself as she’s been doing, but her mind seemed to be elsewhere. No matter what I said, I couldn’t get one smile out of her. She claimed she just had a headache, but I think it’s more than that.”

  “Did you call Dr. Mills or Dr. White about the headache?”

  “Dr. Mills came by but didn’t seem concerned.”

  Roman sighed silently in relief.

  “I’ll go talk to her. I have a couple of things to drop off anyway that she left behind at the hospital.”