Marrying Dr. Maverick

by Karen Rose Smith

  At the front desk, he greeted Melba who was shuffling papers into a file folder. She eyed the bag from Daisy’s Donuts. “Jazzy didn’t come down to breakfast,” she told him. “Maybe she’ll eat some of what you brought her.”

  He supposed Melba had seen him with Jazzy the past two days. The older woman watched over her guests with an eagle eye.

  He climbed the stairs, glad he’d put lids on the coffee cups or he’d have sloshed it all over the box and donuts. He was just eager to show Jazzy the property, that was all.

  But deep down, he knew the reason for his eagerness was more than that. When he brought Jazzy back here yesterday and examined her shoulder, he’d had to remind himself over and over again that it was a clinical examination. But he could vividly remember how she’d felt under his fingertips, the look in her eyes. They were attracted to each other and fighting it. Just how difficult was it going to be to work together?

  Not too difficult, he hoped. They wouldn’t have time for attraction, not if they were going to get a clinic up and running. So the sooner they looked at the property and got started, the better. It was silly, really, but he couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else. Jazzy was so positive and upbeat, so excited about new things. She understood the dedication it took to take care of animals, and she even admired it. Unlike Lynnette. She was so different from Lynnette. Jazzy wouldn’t do anything half-measure. Dating Jazzy could be an unrivaled experience. More than dating her could be...

  He thought about his dad’s ultimatum. Marriage would be a solution. Yet after his experience with Lynnette, he couldn’t even think about it.

  It was a shame he couldn’t erase the shadows of the past from his memory bank.

  When he reached Jazzy’s door, he shuffled the box into one arm and rapped. She didn’t answer. Could she have gone out? Was that why she hadn’t appeared at breakfast?

  He rapped again. “Jazzy?” he called. “Are you in there?”

  To his relief, he heard movement inside. Then Jazzy was opening the door, looking as if she’d just awakened from a deep sleep. Her blond hair was mussed around her face and she’d pushed her bangs to one side. She was wearing a raspberry-colored nightgown and robe over it, but she hadn’t belted the robe and the lapels lay provocatively over her breasts.

  He quickly raised his gaze to hers. “Are you okay?”

  She seemed to come fully awake. Now she belted her robe, cinching it at her very slim waist. That wasn’t a whole lot better, but she didn’t know that. He’d just have to package his lusty thoughts away in mothballs. He was concerned about her and that concern must have shown.

  “Tell me the truth, Jazzy.” He didn’t want some varnished description of how she was feeling.

  “Can I tell you over donuts and coffee?” she asked. “That really smells good.”

  If she wanted coffee and was hungry, she had to be okay, right?

  Without a second thought, he stepped inside the room. She moved over to the nightstand, clearing it of books and lotion. She set them on the small dresser.

  After he settled the box on the nightstand, he pulled over the ladder-back chair while she curled up cross-legged on the bed. She was so natural...so unaffected...so pretty.

  He opened the box of donuts, pulled out a chocolate-glazed one and handed it to her. “Tell me.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “As the day went on yesterday, I got more sore. Last night I couldn’t get to sleep. It must have been about 4 a.m. when I finally did, and I guess I was in a deep sleep until you knocked. You should have called to warn me you were coming.”

  “You need a warning?”

  She shrugged. “A girl doesn’t like to be caught with her hair all messed up.” She flipped a hank of it over her shoulder.

  He laughed. “You look—”

  She held her hand up to stop him. “Do not say fine. No woman wants to hear she looks fine.”

  “Then how about you look morning-fresh and pretty.”

  She’d been about to take a bite of the donut but she stopped and her eyes widened.

  “What? You don’t believe me?”

  “I have sisters who look beautiful in the morning. They don’t even get sheet wrinkles on their faces.”

  “You don’t have any sheet wrinkles. Or any wrinkles at all.”

  Her skin was so creamy, he wanted to reach out and touch it. That was the problem. “You do have a few freckles, though. But I like those, too.”

  She blinked.

  He could see he’d definitely surprised her, maybe even embarrassed her a little. He popped the lid off the coffee. “Sugar and cream, just like you like it.” As he handed it to her, he asked, “So how sore are you this morning?”

  “Just a little, really. I think some of it’s from the seat belt.”

  That made sense.

  “Do you feel like looking at a property I found? If you don’t, we can do it another time.”

  “No, I want to go.” She was about to lay down her donut, when he said, “Take your time. I told the real-estate agent I’d buzz her when we were on our way.”

  Jazzy suddenly got a determined look on her face, and Brooks knew he was probably in for trouble. She pointed her donut at him. “Just because you’re tall and strong and seem to know what you want in life, doesn’t mean you can look at me as...fragile.”

  Now where had that come from? Honest to goodness, he just didn’t understand women. “I don’t.”

  She pointed her donut at him again. “You do. Maybe it’s because you take care of animals, but you have some kind of protective streak. It’s the same streak that argued with me about help with changing your tire, and being out in the rain and thinking I had to rest today. You were in the accident, too. You’re not resting.”

  “I didn’t bump my shoulder.”

  She lifted a finger and stroked the air. “Okay, point taken. Still, I’m not some damsel in distress. Got it?”

  She was sitting there cross-legged on the bed—with mussed hair and a just-awakened look. Baser urges nudged him to move closer, to climb into bed with her...

  As if he needed more proof she wasn’t fragile, she said, “And I iced my shoulder yesterday like you told me to. I can take good care of myself.”

  Whether she could or couldn’t remained to be seen, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. After all, she’d left her home and her family and her job to come to Rust Creek Falls to help.

  “You’ve been fighting having somebody look after you all your life, haven’t you?” he asked perceptively.

  She finished the rest of the donut and wiped her fingers on a napkin. “With a family as big as mine, it can’t be helped. Everyone thinks they know best for everyone else. We do take care of each other, but sometimes it just gets very smothering.” She licked one finger then picked up her coffee, took a couple of sips, then asked, “Do I have time for a quick shower? I can be ready in ten minutes.”

  A woman who could be ready in ten minutes? This he had to see. “Go for it,” he said and stood. “I’ll go downstairs and wait. If Old Gene’s down there, he’ll want an update on how all the ranchers are doing. So if it goes a minute or two over ten, don’t worry.”

  She hopped off the bed. “Ten minutes. Start timing.”

  He was still shaking his head, amused, as he went down the stairs. Jazzy was a bundle of...something. He wasn’t sure what. She had energy and spirit and a smile that wouldn’t quit. Maybe, just maybe, their partnership was going to work out.

  * * *

  Fifteen minutes later in Brooks’s truck, Jazzy could feel his gaze on her and she knew she was just going to have to get used to that protective streak of his. It didn’t feel so bad, really, coming from him—rather than from her brother or Dean or her dad. But she really was feeling better since the shower had loosened her up.
Ice had definitely helped last night.

  She was a bit surprised when he headed down Buckskin Road toward the creek. The properties in the lower-lying areas in the south part of the town had been the worst-hit by the floodwaters. Some of the properties directly north of the creek hadn’t fared so well, either.

  He pulled up in front of a refurbished one-story office. Another car was already parked there. When she and Brooks disembarked from his truck, an older woman in jeans, boots and a denim jacket nodded to them. Brooks introduced Jazzy to Rhonda Deatrick, who was a real-estate agent.

  Rhonda handed Brooks a key. “Look around as long as you want. You can drop the key back at the office when you’re done. That way I won’t interfere in your decision process.”

  He laughed. “In other words, you’re not going to sway me one way or another.”

  She smiled. “You’re just like your daddy. You know exactly what you want. So this will either work or it won’t.” She nodded to Jazzy. “Nice to meet you.” She headed for her car.

  “I guess she knows your dad?”

  “Actually, she helped out my grandmother on some property issues. But Rhonda has a couple of horses my dad’s taking care of, too.”

  “Everyone knows everybody here. But then Rust Creek Falls is even smaller than Thunder Canyon. Thunder Canyon used to be more like this, before money moved in with the resort and all.”

  They went up the short walkway that looked as if it had been recently power-washed. The building itself was sided in dark blue. Concrete steps led to the wooden porch with its steel-gray railing.

  “Everything looks freshly painted and cleaned.”

  “From what I understand, there was a foot of mud in this place after the flood, so it was completely gutted and redone,” Brooks explained.

  “Was this a house?”

  “No, it was a dentist’s office. That’s why it has a lot of good things going for it.”

  “The dentist didn’t want to resume his practice?”

  “Nope. He was near retirement age. He’d been renting the property for the past ten years. The owner was the one who decided to put it into tip-top shape again, and see if he could rent it to another doctor.”

  Brooks opened the door and stepped aside so Jazzy could precede him. She went up the steps, her arm brushing his chest. Even that swift contact affected her. The scent of his cologne affected her. Everything about him affected her.

  Inside, everything was white. There was new dry wall in all the rooms, as well as new tile flooring.

  “I think I’d leave the exam rooms in white for now,” he said. “I can hang framed posters on the walls. But the reception area needs a coat of paint.”

  Jazzy examined the space. “An L-shaped desk would look good right there.” She pointed to the wall across from them. “Or a counter. This would be pretty in a really pale blue, maybe with some stenciling around the ceiling.”

  “Stenciling?”

  “Yes. You use a template and there are special paints. It’s not difficult. I helped Mom do it in the kitchen. It could be on one of the walls or two of the walls, just around the doorways and windows. Whatever you decide. I’m sure there are plenty of animal stencils. It would look really cute. We can fill a basket with dog toys, another with cat toys.”

  “Everything in here has to be easy to clean,” he reminded her.

  She’d forgotten about that. “What’s your dad’s office like?”

  “Practical.”

  “Animal owners are practical, but they want their pets to feel at home, too. Coming to the vet is often a traumatic experience. The more pleasant we make it for them, the more they’ll be glad to come here.”

  “I like that philosophy. I’ll try to have regular hours here and make outside visits to ranches during specified times. I know there will be emergencies in both instances. Once I take patients away from Dad and he sees he doesn’t have to work so hard, then maybe we can combine our practices. I can take over the majority of the work, and he can help out when he wants. Or else he can handle office visits and I can do the ranch visits, which are harder on him. It would be ideal. I think he just doesn’t want to admit he can’t do what he used to do.”

  “Nobody wants to admit that.”

  “Maybe so, but life is about change, even for, or especially for, older folk.”

  Before she thought better of it, she clasped his arm. “I think you’re doing the right thing.”

  He covered her hand with his. “I surely hope so. Let me show you the rest. You can see the creek from the backyard.”

  Leading her into a hallway that led to the back of the office, he opened the door that went outside. The property had a huge backyard and beyond she could see Rust Creek.

  “This is nice.”

  “I can imagine kennels out here and runs, which Dad doesn’t have. Maybe eventually, if he doesn’t give in to a joint practice, I could buy this place. Because of the flood, prices are down in this whole area.”

  “I imagine it could still be expensive.”

  After a long look at the creek, and then a glance at her, he said, “I’ve saved most of what I’ve made since I graduated. My rent’s low, my scholarship paid for schooling. I’ve invested a lot of it since I’ve been working.”

  “How long have you been living in Kalispell?”

  “Four years.”

  She saw something shadowy pass through his eyes and couldn’t help asking, “But you really didn’t intend to live there?”

  “Life hasn’t turned out as I expected.”

  She could keep silent, but that wasn’t her way. Softly, she asked, “What did you expect?”

  Again, he stared into the distance for so long a time she didn’t think he was going to answer. But then his gaze came around to hers. “I expected to be married and practicing with Dad. But my fiancée broke our engagement and everything fell apart.”

  There was a lot of pain behind his words. From his broken engagement, or from his troubles with his father? If it was the broken engagement—

  When she’d broken off her relationship with Griff, had it left this kind of pain with him? Brooks had confided in her and she realized that that confidence gave them an even more personal connection. If she reciprocated, their bond would grow. Unless he saw her in the same light as his fiancée. Right now, telling him about Griff just didn’t seem to be the right thing to do, any which way.

  They stood there in silence for a long time. Finally Brooks said, “I’m going to take it. This property seems perfect and I don’t want to let it slip away. I can probably get all the paperwork done today. I’ll start painting the reception area tomorrow morning.”

  “You’ll start painting? I thought I was working for you now.”

  “Your shoulder’s still sore and...”

  The look she gave him must have stopped him. He held up his hands in surrender. “Right. You don’t want me to be protective. Do you want to paint, too?”

  “Paint, and anything else that will help you get off the ground. If my shoulder’s still sore tomorrow, then I’ll decide what I can or can’t do. Deal?”

  A slow smile spread across his lips. “Deal.”

  But when they shook on it, Jazzy had the feeling she was agreeing to a lot more than a business arrangement.

  * * *

  The volunteers had carpooled for their initial drive to Rust Creek Falls, so Jazzy had left her car back in Thunder Canyon. She really didn’t need it here because everything was within walking distance or she could catch a ride with someone. When Cecilia, who was also staying at Strickland’s, dropped Jazzy off at Brooks’s new clinic the following morning, she winked. “Have fun.”

  “We’re going to work,” Jazzy told her, for not the first time. She’d told Brooks yesterday, after they’d shaken hands on their
deal, that she’d find her own way to the clinic.

  “You can have fun and work, too,” Cecilia reminded her.

  But Jazzy was not looking at Brooks in any way other than as an employer. She simply was not. She was going to help him get his office ready. Period.

  Glancing toward Brooks’s truck, she wondered how long he’d been there. When she stepped inside his new office, she figured he’d probably arrived before dawn. There were tarps covering the floor, a flat of water bottles in one corner and a giant cup of coffee on the ladder.

  “Did you have breakfast?” he asked. “I have donuts in the truck.”

  “I ate this morning. I knew I’d need some energy.”

  “How do you feel?”

  “I feel like I should be here helping you paint. End of discussion, right?”

  He gave her a slow smile. “Right. I only have one more wall. It would help me if you would do the trim around the windows.”

  “So I don’t have to lift that heavy roller?”

  “No. Because I think you’d be good at the detail work.”

  She laughed. “Very adept. Just point me to the brushes. What else is happening today?”

  “Internet service will be hooked up tomorrow, same with phone. Equipment will also be delivered. I bought a secondhand desk at the used furniture shop and Norm said he’d actually deliver it today, even though it’s Sunday.”

  “That’s fast.”

  Brooks looked so tall and head-over-heels sexy this morning. He’d discarded his Stetson. His shirt might have seen a hundred washings because it was soft and a bit faded. He’d probably worn an old one in deference to the paint splatters he might get on it, she supposed. His jeans appeared worn, too, and fit him so well.

  “I can’t believe how fast this is happening.”