On the bedside stand, she spotted a note:
Slugger
She grinned and glanced at her bruised knuckles.
Got called in to work—hopefully will be back this morning. I left some clothes on a chair for you. Coffee is in kitchen downstairs. Use the door in the corner of the bedroom. Make yourself at home.
Love you, V
Oh God. She tried to quell the warmth engulfing her. “Love you.” How easily he used the L word. She sighed. Thank God he snored, or she might think he was perfect.
After her shower, she found clothes on the bedroom chair. One faded pair of jeans fit despite being tight in the butt. She donned a T-shirt, then pulled on a huge flannel shirt. It had to be Virgil’s. She rolled the sleeves up and felt engulfed in softness.
Must have caffeine. With single-minded need, she headed downstairs, through a rustic living room big as her apartment, and into an oversize country kitchen with brick-colored walls.
Coffeemaker, check. Coffee, check.
As the magnificent scent of brewing coffee filled the room, she considered the coming day. She had a dreary drive to get back to San Francisco, then an orgy of packing and moving. Funny how her sense of anticipation at starting a new job had diminished so much—because Virgil wouldn’t be there. The feeling of loss made an uncomfortable lump in her chest. She shook her head. Reality check, Summer. No work, can’t stay.
Boots thumped on the stairs, and Summer glanced up. He’s back. Happy excitement tingled along her nerves. Only…that sounded like more than one pair of footsteps.
“Thank fuck Virg made coffee. I might—” A man stepped into the kitchen and halted at the sight of her. Another man thumped into him. Both had shaggy brown hair, leathery tans, flannel shirts, and jeans. Big guys.
Oh hell. A thin trickle of fear slid through her. She rose and took a step back. “Um. I—”
“Hey, you must be Summer.” The man in the door stepped forward, holding out a hand. “I talked to you on the phone. I’m Wyatt, Virg’s brother.”
Virgil had brothers? He’d never mentioned anyone except a cousin. Well, I didn’t ask him about his family, now did I? She winced. No, she’d spent the time talking about herself. Pitiful, Summer. How self-centered can you get?
His brothers. Her hair still hung in wet tangles from the shower; she wore Virgil’s shirt, and had obviously spent the night. Heat flamed her cheeks. Of course, it could be worse—she could be sitting here in fetishwear.
The two men looked like Virgil. Open rugged faces. Friendly. She shook Wyatt’s hand firmly and said, “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Morgan.” The leaner one smiled. “He called, said he’s stuck in town booking some drunken bikers. We’re supposed to feed you. Then if he’s not back, I’ll run you up to the lodge.”
The sense of disappointment dulled the morning even further. She watched Morgan fill mugs with coffee and tried to find her wits. “Do you guys live here too?”
“Yep.” Morgan handed her a mug. “Me and Wyatt and Kallie run a wilderness guide business, so there’s livestock. Virgil tends the veggie gardens. It’s easier to manage everything if we’re here on the property.”
Wyatt winked at her. “Downstairs is common territory; upstairs we got our own apartments.”
So her Virgil lived in a gorgeous area, had a job, a family, a community. Even a garden. She gave a silent sigh of envy. “Sounds wonderful.”
“Works pretty good.” Wyatt stuck his head in the magnet-covered refrigerator. “What’d you like for breakfast?”
“Nothing. I need to get going.” She’d run back to the lodge and pack, then swing into town. Say good-bye. The thought sliced deep, the pain arriving a second later. Good-bye.
“You sure?” Morgan frowned. “You look a little peaked. You should eat.”
She shook her head. “It’s a long drive. Where’s the police station?”
“Midway through town. On the left,” Morgan said. “Next to the medical clinic, across from the grocery.
“You have a medical clinic?” Laurette needed a prescription for some of the equipment. Summer could stop by there too. And then she had another thought, and her hands tightened on the coffee mug. “I don’t suppose they’d need a nurse?”
Wyatt snorted. “Hell no. Doc hates nurses, hasn’t had one for a year or so. He hired some college guy.”
“Abe’s wife worked for him. Ugly divorce,” Morgan said. “He drove a couple nurses off after that. Good doctor, but he’s got a temper.”
Her spirits sank.
*
After Morgan had dropped her off at the lodge, she’d started to pack, then driven to the tiny town instead. I want Virgil. Not that seeing him would solve anything.
She drove slowly down the Main Street. Dammit, why did Bear Flat have to be so pretty? She scowled at the picturesque stores with colorful hanging signs. A nineteenth-century-style boardwalk. All surrounded by breathtaking, snow-covered mountains. She’d have liked living here. “This isn’t helping.”
After parking in front of the police department, she sat for a minute, trying to contain the pain in her chest. Virgil didn’t need to see her in tears. And she saw no point in a drawn-out good-bye. She couldn’t live on someone else’s charity. She had an occupation that she loved.
Maybe he’d come and see her. And she could visit him here—after she worked long enough to have some days off.
But why even try to draw it out? He belonged here, and unless they built a hospital in the area, she never would. They had no future.
Throat tight, eyes burning, she pulled open the door to the police station. One uniformed officer sat at a table in the center of the room, another at a desk in the corner. “Is Virgil here?” she asked when they looked over.
“Should return in a bit.” He shook his head. “Hopefully he’ll be in a better mood by then.”
Guilt hit low and deep. It was because of her.
Her thought must have shown, since the cop grinned. “He and the doc got into it. Masterson was royally piss—” He broke off with an embarrassed glance at her. “Very angry at Abe. Could hear them shouting from in here.”
The gray-haired cop in the corner barked a laugh. “Never heard Masterson yell like that afore.”
“Okay. Well, thanks.” Her unhappiness deepened as she stepped back onto the street. She’d bet that Virgil had tried to find her a job. She scowled at the next-door building, where the black window lettering proclaimed: BEAR FLAT MEDICAL CLINIC. Her next stop.
Wonderful. A doctor who hated nurses and made Virgil lose his temper. She’d just give the receptionist the list for Laurette and get the heck out of Dodge.
In the clinic, the small waiting room stood empty. No one sat at the receptionist’s desk. Summer tapped her fingers on the desk impatiently.
Noise filtered through the door leading to the exam rooms. Someone vomiting. A man shouting, “Dammit, get over here. I need—” Cursing. Sounded more like an emergency room than a clinic. An ominous amount of blood had splattered across the tile floor.
Well, it appeared Doctor Prima Donna had problems. Leave? Summer glanced at the front door, sighed, squirted handwash from the dispenser on her hands, and headed to the back.
One empty room, another, then…chaos.
A woman, dead-white, sat on the floor in a corner, shaking and crying. Across the room, a young man knelt in a pool of vomit. Lovely.
A beefy male lay on the exam table, covered in blood. Something—maybe an axe—had laid his upper chest open right down to the ribs. Probably the gory sight had toppled the woman and, at a guess, the med tech.
Standing over the patient, the gray-haired doctor was cursing—very inventively—and plainly needed another set of hands. I’d rather kick you. Really hard. Summer sighed again, tossed her coat on a chair, and grabbed a pair of gloves from a box on the counter. “You got an ambulance called?” she asked as she pulled them on.
His head jerked up. Gray hair, drawn face, sharp blue ey
es behind glasses. “About an hour out,” he snapped. “I need some help if you could keep from puking and—”
Summer snorted and glanced at his supplies. The pile of four-by-four sponges he’d used for direct pressure was almost gone. Looked like he might need to tie off a spurter too. The cupboards along the wall were well stocked, and she grabbed a dressing set, absorbable sutures, more gauze four-by-fours, and set up a sterile field on the tray table.
The doctor grunted and set to work.
Summer smiled down into the patient’s dazed, pain-ridden eyes. “We’ll get some of the bleeding stopped. Then I can give you something for pain. Hang in there a little longer.”
He managed a nod.
The doc stared at her for a second. Then his attention returned to the wound. She silently assisted. Once the doc had gotten the bleeding under adequate control, he irrigated, then worked on packing the wound.
With a bare minimum of talk, Summer started an IV and gave the patient some morphine, pleased when the lines of pain on his face eased. She tucked blankets around him, reassured the woman whose color was returning, and set the med tech to cleaning up his mess and the blood.
She ignored the doctor whenever possible. Truly competent, she’d noticed, and surprisingly sweet with the patient—now that he wasn’t cursing—but the narrow-minded jerk didn’t hire nurses, and he’d made Virgil mad enough to yell. She still wanted to kick him.
After the ambulance crew finally arrived and took the patient away, Summer washed her hands and turned to see the doctor watching her.
“You’re the nurse Virgil told me about,” he muttered. “I don’t like nurses.”
God, why did she ever choose a career where she had to deal with doctors? “So I’ve heard,” she said, cold but polite. Fighting never accomplished anything…although right now, it sure sounded tempting. “I brought in a list of things Ms. Laurette needs. Virgil will see to the installation, but some equipment requires a prescription for Medicare to cover it.” She dug in her pocket and set the paper on the counter. Two points to her for not throwing it at him.
His scowl deepened. “You’re a hospital nurse. What do you know about home medical equipment?”
“I worked closely with the discharge planner.” She picked up her coat.
“Hold up,” he barked.
She glanced at her watch. She needed to find Virgil, wherever the heck he’d gone, and get her butt on the road. “You’re welcome.” She pulled open the door of the exam room.
He slapped the door shut. “Jesus, you’re as stubborn as Masterson.”
Yeah, look who’s talking. She folded her hands in front of her and assumed an I’m-being-extremely-patient expression.
He blinked as if in disbelief, then said, “I haven’t had good luck with nurses. After my… Well, after one nurse didn’t work out, I went through two more.” He eyed her, then removed his hand from the door. “One handled the patients well, but she had the judgment of a stump, and the other bawled like a baby every time I snapped at her.”
He frowned at the med tech, who still looked green. “I thought I might train someone, but maybe not.”
Well, at least the guy could admit he made a mistake. Good for him. Nonetheless, she was running late. She gave him another long-suffering look.
To her surprise, he barked a laugh. “No wonder you impressed Masterson.”
When she edged toward the door, he wedged his foot against it and continued talking. “You’re experienced, coolheaded, and excellent with people.” He glanced at the paper on the counter where she’d listed the equipment she recommended and had starred the ones needing prescriptions. “You’re organized.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Want a job?”
*
From the porch swing of the lodge, Virgil waited as Summer parked her car and stepped out. Smiling a little, she arched her back and stretched, as if reaching for the sky.
Fucking-A, the woman simply took his breath away—like after a winter storm, when sunlight would spill onto the untouched white of the mountains, casting the world into brilliance. And all a man could do was thank God for the gift of that moment.
He leaned forward, elbows on knees, and watched her cross the clearing. When she spotted him, joy lit her eyes. Thanks, God.
“Virgil!” Her pace quickened.
Just the sound of her voice made him smile. Made him harden. Made him hurt to think she’d leave.
But he’d go with her. As she trotted up the steps, his resolve firmed. I can’t give her up. He’d find a job in her town up north. He could live without the Sierras.
“Logan said you hadn’t checked out, so I waited here.” Virgil rose and pulled her against him, rubbing his cheek in her hair. She responded as she always did, softening in his arms. Offering herself. Sexiest woman he’d ever known.
“You jerk. I went nuts trying to find you.” When she frowned up at him, he captured her lips for a long, gratifying kiss. He slid his hands down, discovering that the jeans he’d loaned her were well past skintight. With a hum of pleasure, he curved his fingers under her round ass and murmured, “Be very polite right now, sweetheart. After last night, you’re too tender to fuck senseless.”
Pink flooded her cheeks, and then she wiggled her hips. “I’m not that sore.” Mischief turned her eyes sky blue.
His cock responded as if she’d raised the starting gate, and he almost groaned. Dammit. Now he’d suffer with a massive hard-on while they loaded her car.
She grinned at him, tilting her hips against his dick.
Hell with it, they’d just get a later start. Before he could scoop her up, she stepped back. “I’d… I want to talk first.”
Fucking-A, he might have a stroke right then and there. Good thing she was a nurse. He pulled in a slow breath. “All right.”
Summer had felt his erection, seen the heat in his gaze. Now she heard the strained patience in his voice. How many men would back off without making a production of it? God, she loved him.
He pulled her down to sit beside him on the porch swing. After putting an arm over her shoulders, he picked up a strand of her hair, curling it around his hand. He really did like to touch. It seemed strange that someone the size of a truck could be so affectionate. She glanced up.
The corners of his eyes crinkled, and he touched her cheek lightly with his finger. “I love you.”
Oh God. In the clear mountain light, his eyes were golden and filled with such warmth that it was like a force pulling her toward him. Dammit, she’d wanted to have a rational discussion. One not involving emotions. “Virgil…”
“Say it, slugger.” He was as unstoppable as spring back home—melting the snow, exposing the tender new grass, flooding the streams and tearing away obstacles. Pushing her off-balance.
“I love you too.” And she did, and her feelings for him kept growing, sending out leaves, rooting deep in her soul. She blinked back tears. “I love you so much.”
“There we go.” He kissed her gently, then said, “I took the week off. I’m going to help you move and get settled in…if that doesn’t frighten you too much. I can do a little job-hunting myself.” He ran his finger down her cheek, smiling at her startled look. “I daresay I can find work somewhere close to you.”
“I’m staying.”
“But we’d best get started and…” He started to rise, then froze. “Wait… What did you say?”
Bubbles of joy rising inside her were as heady as champagne, and she giggled, then gave him a stern look and repeated his own words back to him, “Oh, you heard me.”
When he still just stared at her, she wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him down to whisper, “I’ll stay.”
“Thank you, God.” His arms tightened until her ribs creaked, and then he kissed the breath right out of her. He was going to kill her dead—and she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.
He cupped her head, holding her against him for a moment, and she heard his heart poundin
g under her ear. “What about your career?” he finally asked.
“The doctor in town hired me.”
“Well damn.” He pushed her back to stare into her face in disbelief. “How the hell did you do that? I—uh—”
“Yeah, I know you yelled at him.” She touched his hard jaw with fingers that trembled slightly. He’d lost his temper, not at her but to help her. How could she not love him? “So I’m staying. But…I’m going to get my own place.”
His eyes narrowed ominously. “You won’t move in with me?”
“No.” Firm. Be firm, Summer. “It’s too soon. We need to see how it goes. So I’ll get an apartment or—”
“Not an apartment. Hell, I almost forgot.” He rose and strode into the lodge in big ground-covering strides.
She stared after him.
A minute later, he returned, a small quilt bundled in his arms.
She frowned. “You wanted a blanket?”
“Didn’t want him to get cold,” he muttered and opened the quilt to drop something in her lap. Something that squirmed with soft, soft fur, long drooping ears, big brown eyes.
The spaniel puppy bounced up to frantically lick her chin, wiggling in joy.
“Oh, look at you… You’re so cute.” Laughing, Summer glanced up at Virgil. “You got a puppy?”
“Nope. You got a puppy.” He smiled at her, and the love in his eyes filled her heart to overflowing. “I planned to come with you, but if you refused and left without me”—his jaw tightened as he repeated—“if you left alone, you’d be hurting almost as much as me, and you’d need something to love.”
As he took his seat beside her, she buried her face in the puppy’s soft fur, trying not to cry. He’d have tried to make her happy even if she left him. How could her heart keep expanding without bursting? Still holding the squirmy puppy, she stood and plopped down on Virgil’s lap.
He rumbled a laugh, and his arms came around her and the pup, offering a warm shelter of protection. Here was everything she ever wanted.
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