by Denise Gwen
It was his due, and she wanted him to succeed, yet at the back of her mind, she couldn’t help wondering, why he kept delaying marriage.
“Sarah?” Paul’s voice cut through the fog of her mind.
“Yes?”
“Jake Roundtree is on staff here, twenty-four seven, and he’s a fine doctor.”
“Oh,” she said.
“I’m not really a doctor,” he said, looking abashed as he held Olivia on his left hip. “I’m a Physician’s Assistant.”
He carried himself with the practiced ease of a man who hunted and trapped in the great Alaskan wilderness—another fact she knew of him—and then, to her shock, she had a sudden image of herself, wrapped up in his arms, snuggling with him in front of a roaring fire—
“Again, Jake,” Olivia cried out, tugging on his lab coat. “Again, again, again!”
Jake lifted up the girl in front of him and gazed lovingly at her. Sarah was struck with a sudden pang of jealousy.
What would it feel like for him to look at me with such love?
Jake tossed her niece up into the air one last time, then set her down on her feet.
“Can hardly wait to see my wife,” Paul said. “Where is she?”
“She’s in the break-room, lying down,” Jake said, and grinned. “And she made parsnip soup for dinner.”
“That’s good to hear,” Paul said. “‘Cause we’re hungry!” Paul looked at her. “Sarah my dear, I do believe you’re going to enjoy having Jake Roundtree as your boss.”
“Boss?” she scoffed, before she could stop herself. “I’m the doctor. I thought you told me Jake Roundtree was only a nurse.”
“Only a nurse?” Jake asked, an eyebrow raised ironically. “Young lady, I’m a fully certified Physician’s Assistant, and why shouldn’t I be your boss?”
They stared at one another.
He’s got the warmest brown eyes I’ve ever seen, but he’s arrogant and full of himself.
“Oh, dear,” Paul said. “Things are getting off on a wrong footing already, aren’t they?”
“Not at all, Dr. Livingston.” Jake swung Olivia back over onto his left hip and with his right hand extended, said, “Let’s start over again. I don’t think we did it right the first time.”
“No,” she warbled, “I don’t think we did.”
She thrust her right hand out and he squeezed it with a grip that felt enveloping and warm.
“Hello, I’m Jake Roundtree, and you must be Doctor Sarah O’Reilly.”
“Yes,” she said simply. “I am.”
If only his eyes were as warm as his handshake.
She gazed up into his brown eyes and felt a frisson of desire. A gorgeous man with dark, brooding good looks, yet those eyes shone with danger, and already, she resented his authority. He’d taken umbrage at her questioning his status as her boss, but he’d better get it straight, right now.
I’m the boss, not him.
And if he’d stopped there, everything would’ve been fine, and they might’ve even gotten off to a good start as colleagues after all, but then he added, “And, if you’re anything like your sister, then I know we’re going to get along wonderfully.”
Well, she wasn’t her sister, she was her own person.
And Sarah had her own ideas as to how a medical practice ought to be run.
Rachel walked out of the break-room.
“Mommy,” Olivia cried out, releasing her hold on Jake’s legs and running to her mother. “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!”
Sarah’s heart sunk into her chest.
I made a mistake in coming here.
Chapter 2
What the heck’s the matter with her?
Jake rolled his shoulders to lessen the tension between his shoulder blades as he followed Sarah, Rachel, and Paul to the kitchen. Olivia ran on ahead, prattling away in her charming way, as the two sisters spoke quietly.
He’d been drawn to the diminutive younger sister and seeking to discern how she resembled her older sister, but now that he really put his mind to it, what really struck him were the differences. Yes, she was pretty, very pretty, with her raven black hair falling below her shoulders—he had a particular fondness for women with raven black hair—but he’d not failed to notice her cold, reserved manner. As far as he could see, she’d not made any attempt to hug her sister when they saw one another, and that struck him as mighty strange. After all, the sisters hadn’t seen each other for, what? A year? A year-and-a-half?
I guess first impressions really are correct. She’s a cold fish.
“Dinner’s ready,” Olivia announced.
“Oh, goodie,” Sarah said to the child, and Jake winced at the sarcasm in her voice.
Come on, lady. Be nice. She’s just a little girl.
He walked into the kitchen, got his bowl of soup and sat down at the table.
He glanced over at Paul and Rachel, noticed them still nuzzling. Olivia was standing behind them with her arms wrapped around her father’s legs An ache of longing filled his heart.
Okay, your demonstrative affection is annoying! Get a room, you two! Actually, they are the most perfect couple alive.
Paul and Rachel had been married five years now, and parents to sweet little Olivia, a precocious four-year-old girl. He noted Rachel’s bulging belly and winced.
When you go on your maternity leave, you’re leaving me behind to deal with your sister. Thanks a lot, Doc.
As if she’d sensed him thinking of her, Sarah looked up at him sharply, and he was about to say something curt to her, when he stopped short, stricken silent.
Tears brimmed in her eyes.
Crap, what’d I do?
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“I’m okay,” she said, looking away. “Just tired.” She dashed the tears running down her cheeks with an almost angry gesture.
Her bowl of soup sat before her, untouched.
“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked.
“Starving.”
“Well, okay, then. So, eat.”
He scooped up a spoonful of soup and held it in front of him.
Sarah looked at him.
“Eat,” he said, and she did.
As they ate the soup, he noticed Sarah glancing over at her sister as she canoodled with her husband.
She’s jealous.
Well, it was reasonable for a sister to be a little bit jealous of another sister, especially when the sister in question was Rachel Livingston, the hardest working doctor he’d ever seen, not to mention a lady with a devoted husband and two children.
Gotta admit, I’m a little jealous of Rachel myself, when I come to think on it.
Or, rather, he was jealous of Paul Livingston, her husband. Paul was Rachel’s great love. And Jake, well, he’d had a great love of his own, once, a long time ago.
“How long have you been working here?” Sarah asked.
He stirred, still lost in his reverie. “Oh, ever since I was fifteen, I reckon.”
“Fifteen?” she asked, surprised.
“Yes, fifteen,” he said, an edge of steel in his voice. “My grandfather was a medicine man for the Tlingit Tribe, and when he died, nobody else knew the old ways of our medicine, so we had to resort to Westerners for our care.”
“Oh.”
“And that’s when Paul came to the reservation to take care of us, and I’ve gotta admit, he’s done an amazing job.”
“How so?”
“Infant mortality rates have plummeted. Now, all of our babies survive.”
“I see.”
He ate his soup silently. Watching as Sarah tore off a piece of bread and dipped it in her soup, he noticed her ruminative expression.
“So, training?”
Again, he forced himself to tamp down a swell of resentment. Rachel had hinted something to him, shortly after she announced Sarah’s arrival, and he recalled it now.
She’s just a little rough around the edges, that’s all. She needs a little . . . time . . . to mellow ou
t and mature. Things that don’t matter to us, Jake, you and me and Paul, well, they matter to Sarah.
At the time, he hadn’t quite understood what Rachel was hinting at, but now he did. Sarah was a snob.
Fancy pedigrees impressed her. And he had a pretty good idea what her response was going to be when she learned where he’d received his medical training.
“I went to school with all the other children on the reservation.”
“I’m not asking you to tell me your primary school education,” she said icily. “Where’d you get your training as a physician’s assistant?”
Oh, what the hell.
He plunged right in.
“I attended an online course through the University of Wellington School of Medicine.”
“An online course?”
“Yes.”
“What program?”
“You already know.”
“Enlighten me.”
“The physician’s assistant training.”
“How’d you manage to get any hands-on training?” she asked, and he could swear, he saw her lip curl.
“Doctor Livingston gave me the clinical experience I needed.”
“How many hours?”
“Two-thousand, five-hundred clinical hours, Doctor O’Reilly.”
Her bright green eyes darted to the upper right side of her face, a classic indication of a human being using the left side of her brain, the clinical, mathematical side. She was mentally calculating how much time that worked out to in a calendar year.
Jake smiled faintly to himself, knowing better than to mention this to the imperious Doctor O’Reilly, however, because he knew what her reaction would be.
Big deal.
“So, in essence, Mr. Roundtree,” she said, and Jake noticed she emphasized the Mister, as opposed to calling him Doctor. “You got as many clinical hours on patients as a hairdresser in Nebraska gets in cosmetology school.”
He gazed at her clear-eyed, unflinching.
“I’m not ashamed of my history, Doctor O’Reilly,” he said. “I’m an asset to the reservation.”
“I’m sure you are,” she said, and she finished eating her soup.
Okay, fine, Doctor O’Reilly. You can do your stint here while your sister goes on her maternity leave, but as far as I’m concerned, Lady, I’m done with you.
Paul cleared his throat, and Jake and Sarah turned to look at him.
“Sarah,” Paul began. “I know what you may be thinking, but it’s a first-rate program.”
“Well, Paul, I’ll have to take your word for it.”
Jake glanced back at Sarah, saw the knowing smirk on her face and a wave of disgust washed over him.
“Sarah, you’re being such a little snot,” Rachel said, scraping up the last little bit of soup from her bowl.
Paul sat back with a satisfied sigh and dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “Excellent parsnip soup, my love.”
“Thank you, honey, but I think you were so hungry, you would’ve eaten anything I heated up and proclaimed it excellent.”
“I highly doubt that.”
When Sarah looked up and gave Paul a warm smile, Jake was struck by the sweetness in her face.
“We need to give Sarah a tour of the facility, what do you think, my dear?” he asked his wife.
“If you ask me, I think Jake Roundtree ought to show Sarah around,” Rachel suggested.
“I’m not so sure about that, Dr. Rachel. I don’t believe I’m up to the challenge of showing a pedigreed doctor around this dump, especially with my piece-of-crap degree.”
He gazed at Sarah, and to her credit, she looked embarrassed. A little of his anger toward her dissipated.
It’s kind of hard to hate her when she blushes so cute.
But he was still going to try.
Chapter 3
Why’d I have to be so unpleasant to him?
Sarah knew she wasn’t behaving well, and yet, every time she made eye contact with Jake Roundtree, she either said or did something to displease or offend him. True, she could be mighty unpleasant when she was hungry, but as she mopped up her sister’s delicious parsnip soup, and finished off the last slice of the lovely, raspberry-seed toasted loaf with melted butter, a sensation of warm contentment filled her body and she sat back and relaxed and listened to her sister and brother-in-law talk to Jake.
So far, it looked to her as if Jake had been volun-told—her favorite expression when some hapless person gets volunteered to perform an unpleasant task—in this case, giving her a tour of the facility—and thus far, Jake hadn’t stirred from his seat, so clearly, he wasn’t excited, either.
And then the conversation took an unexpectedly personal turn.
“When will we get to see little Joshua?” Paul asked.
Sarah glanced up. “Joshua?”
Jake’s brown eyes warmed with love. “My son.”
“Oh.”
Somehow, the fact that Jake had a son made her past behavior seem downright reprehensible. She looked away, her cheeks burning.
Jake looked at Paul. “I’m bringing him to the tribal dinner tomorrow night.”
“Oh, good,” Paul said. “I haven’t seen the little fellow in quite some time.”
“He was here at the clinic earlier today. He kept asking for Olivia and if they could play together.
Sarah couldn’t help herself, she burst out with, “The children play in the clinic? Around the patients?”
“Oh, Sarah,” Rachel sighed. “It’s okay, really.”
“That doesn’t sound too sanitary.”
“Are you saying that my son is unclean?” Jake asked in a dangerous growl.
“She didn’t mean that at all, Jake,” Rachel said. “She’s just a stickler for the rules.”
“Yes, that’s all,” Sarah said meekly, watching in fear as Jake’s face turned a mottled red. “I don’t like it that my sister lets her daughter run around the practice. It’s not safe for a young child to be in such close contact around sick people.”
Jake glared at her for another long moment.
“Or your son, for that matter,” she added.
Jake looked away. “All right, then.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“It’s okay.”
A painful pause.
Rachel cleared her throat. “I expect my sister’s exhausted after that long drive to the reservation from Sitka. Why don’t I show her to her cabin?”
“My cabin?” Sarah asked. “I get a cabin?”
“What’d you think we were gonna make you do?” Paul chortled. “Sleep out in the woods?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, with a faint smile. “I think there are a few people here who wouldn’t object to me being eaten by a grizzly.”
Jake studied his empty soup bowl with intense interest.
“On second thought,” Paul said, casting a sidelong glance at his wife, “Why doesn’t Jake Roundtree show Sarah her cabin?”
“Well, all right,” Rachel said. “I would like to be alone with my family.” She stood up and smoothed down the smock barely covering her bump. “I sure am looking forward to meeting this little guy.”
Temporary is right. I don’t think I could bear to stay here permanently. I only have to get along with the guy until Rachel comes back from maternity leave, and then I can return to Omaha . . . and to Grant.
Sarah had fallen in love with Doctor Grant McCall during her residency, and she’d known then how ambitious he was—it was only a matter of time before he was named the department chair—but he’d been a bit preoccupied lately, and when Rachel called asking her to cover her practice for a few weeks, Sarah decided to take a little vacation and give Grant some space.
She twirled the friendship ring on her left hand. When Grant handed her the tiny box, she’d expected a diamond ring, and when she saw the plain gold band, her heart dropped in her chest. At first, she’d thought it was a joke and that Grant was going to hand her another box, one with a d
iamond inside.
But he didn’t.
And he must’ve sensed her disappointment for he said, “I’m sorry, honey. I thought this might be a first step toward . . . our engagement.”
This placated her . . . somewhat.
The friendship ring debacle happened the night she moved in with him, and she wondered if Grant was still interested in her? Or… had he come to regret their relationship?
Whatever the reason, she’d welcomed this chance to take a break and see if she really wanted to marry him. She’d enjoy a fabulous lifestyle as the wife of the department chair of the oncology unit, but it came with other considerations . . .
We’re just giving each other space. That’s how Grant put it, and I agree with him. We need a little space from each other. When I come back from Rachel’s maternity leave, Grant will have been named department chair and then he’ll be ready to marry.
She studied the plain gold friendship ring. Grant earned seven-hundred and fifty-thousand dollars last year, and this was the best he could do? Okay, to his credit, he did buy her a sleek black Mercedes, but still.
She’d expected more.
When I get back, Grant will put a real diamond on my finger.
“Put on your coat,” Jake said. “It’s a bit of a walk to your cabin.”
Sarah startled at his voice. The idea of taking a long walk with Jake Roundtree was enough to make her want to lie down upon the ground. A snowbank sounded more appealing than spending another minute with the man, but a sudden weight of fatigue settled upon her shoulders. “I guess I am pretty tired.”
“Oh, Paul, bring Sarah’s duffle, will you?” Rachel requested.
Paul ran out to the SUV to retrieve Sarah’s duffle bag, and as he reached for it, Jake stepped in. “I got it,” he said, and lunged for Sarah’s bag and swung it easily over his shoulder. Sarah tried to conceal how impressed she was at this gesture.
“Okay,” he said, “let’s go.”
“See you tomorrow,” Rachel said, as Sarah followed Jake out the back door.
As they stepped out the back door, an arctic blast assailed them.