This Kiss

by Teresa Southwick

  “Are you sure it’s not broken?” Hannah asked.

  The cowboy shook his head. “Happened before,” he grunted. “If I hit it just right—” he stopped and clamped his teeth against the agony “—it goes out on me.”

  “The integrity is compromised,” Hannah diagnosed, knowing the original trauma rendered the joint more vulnerable.

  “Dang horse hasn’t got integrity,” he protested, then grimaced in pain as he held the injured shoulder while he rocked from side to side.

  “Dang physics,” she said, meeting Dev’s worried gaze. “That pesky hard ground has a way of acting on a body that isn’t pleasant.” She looked at the injured cowboy. “Do you mind if I have a look at it?” she asked.

  When skepticism lasered through the man’s discomfort, Dev said, “Newy Tubbs, this is Hannah Morgan—Dr. Hannah Morgan.”

  “Lady doc?” The cowboy met his boss’s gaze. “I don’t know—”

  Hannah tried to decide what his prejudice was—that she was a woman, or hardly looked older than a high school senior. It wouldn’t be the first time for either.

  Dev lifted his hat and ran his hand through short brown hair before replacing it. “We can load you up in the truck and bounce over every rut and pothole between here and Doc Holloway’s office in Destiny. Or Hannah can—”

  “Have a look-see,” he clarified reluctantly. “Okay.”

  Must be one rough ride, she thought, surprised he’d given in so easily. Dev moved aside to give her room. Hannah gently probed the man’s injured shoulder and the protrusion that told her it wasn’t broken. “It’s dislocated, all right. A first-year med student could make the diagnosis.”

  “Guess we’ll have to take you in to see the doc after all,” Dev said.

  “Excuse me. Didn’t we just establish that I’m a doctor?” She met Dev’s gaze. “Unless, of course you’d rather torture this poor man with a trip into town? If not, I can take care of him right here.”

  Newy appraised her doubtfully. “Little bitty thing like you?”

  “He’s right,” Dev interjected. “Doc’s done this before. I’ll go get the truck and—”

  “Doesn’t take strength, just leverage,” she assured the injured man. “What have you got to lose by letting me try? Unless you’re afraid of a little pain,” she challenged, looking at her patient. “But then, it’s gonna hurt like hell anyway on the trip into Destiny, and for a whole lot longer.”

  He glanced at his boss, then back at her and nodded reluctantly. “Go ahead.”

  Hannah nodded, then gripped his wrist and upper arm. “This is going to hurt a bit,” she said, bracing herself. “But I guess you already know that if it’s happened before.”

  As he nodded, she gave a quick tug on his arm. He bit back a yell and groaned. Then he looked at her, obviously surprised. “By golly, I think that’s got it. The pain’s lettin’ up.”

  She sat back on her heels. “That’s what happens when it’s where it should be.” Without looking away from her patient, she snapped an order. “Have you got something for a sling? That arm needs to be immobilized.”

  Newy shook his head. “No need, ma’am. There’s a first-aid kit in the barn. Wade’s workin’ over yonder and he’s wrapped me up before.” Dev helped him to his feet and the cowboy looked down at her as he cradled the injured arm to his chest. “Much obliged, ma’am, I mean Doc,” he said with a wan smile.

  “You’re welcome.”

  She stood beside Dev and watched the cowboy walk to the barn. Then the rancher met her gaze. “Much obliged.”

  “Don’t mention it.” She covered her eyes to shade them from the sun and smiled up at him, glad that he’d seen her as competent and not just a yellow-bellied coward who was afraid of horses.

  He folded his arms over his chest. “What can I do to thank you?”

  “There’s no need. It’s what I’m trained to do.”

  Before he could respond further, the sound of running feet caught their attention. Hannah turned and saw a pint-sized cowboy hurrying as fast as his little legs could go. On his heels and trying to keep up was her mother.

  “Hi, Daddy,” the little guy yelled when he was still a few yards away.

  “Ben,” Dev called back.

  He took her elbow to guide her from the corral. Hannah fought the urge to yank her arm away from the sizzle that swept over her shoulder and down into her breasts. Pulling back would show weakness. And if there’s one thing being the youngest in her class through college and med school had taught her, it was to never let anyone see that you weren’t completely in control.

  So she let him guide her out and watched him latch the gate, the muscles in his back rippling beneath his fitted cotton shirt. She swallowed the sound of female appreciation that rose in her throat, but the corresponding flutter in her stomach gave her trouble. It was as if she was plummeting down the longest drop on a roller coaster. She struggled for a facade of sophistication and polite, but cool interest, because inside she was ga-ga and hot enough to melt diamonds.

  She watched Dev watch his son run toward him. The man’s lean, strong, muscular body tensed and somehow she knew he was bracing for impact. Several moments later, the little guy hurtled into the strong arms waiting for him. Dev held the boy close for a moment, then unselfconsciously kissed his cheek while he settled his son on his forearm and ruffled his brown hair.

  “Hey, squirt,” he said. “Did you and Polly have fun?”

  The boy nodded. Then he noticed Hannah. He pointed. “Who’s she?”

  “It’s not polite to point, Ben. This is Polly’s daughter, Hannah.”

  Her mother joined them, a little out of breath. “Don’t you remember, Ben? I told you she was coming today. She’s a doctor. Hi, honey.”

  “Hi, Mom.” Hannah went into the arms her mother held out. Now she was home. It was several moments before they had hugged their fill and stood side by side, arms around each other’s waists. Hannah noticed Ben was still watching her.

  The boy’s eyes grew wide. “Do you give people shots?”

  “Sometimes. But only if it will help them feel better.”

  He rested a small arm around his father’s strong neck and gave Dev’s shoulder a couple of pats. “I don’t like shots.”

  “Me either,” Hannah agreed.

  “Me either,” Polly said.

  Pleasure swept through her again, feeling her mother beside her. She’d been a teenager when Hannah was born and was still a young, attractive woman. People often said they looked more like sisters than mother and daughter—the same blue eyes and blond hair. Hannah had always been grateful that she didn’t take after her father.

  For a moment, she rested her cheek against her mom’s. “It’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you.”

  “You’re too busy to miss me,” Polly answered, chuckling, “but it’s sweet of you to say so. You’re a sight for sore eyes. But too thin.”

  As if on cue, Ben announced, “I’m hungry. Is it time for an afternoon snack yet? Aren’t you hungry, Daddy?”

  “I am,” he agreed, meeting Hannah’s gaze. “How about you? You’ve had a long trip.”

  “Starved.” She stared at his mouth, the fine chiseled shape. Before she could stop the thought, she wondered what it would be like to kiss Dev Hart. It was an absurd idea, but she couldn’t help thinking about what those smiling lips would feel like pressed against her own. She shook her head to chase away the image. “Thirsty, too,” she added.

  She must be dehydrated from standing in the hot Texas sun too long. It was the only explanation for her wayward thoughts concerning the man’s mouth.

  “Then let’s go,” he said. He easily lifted his son to his broad shoulders and started up the gentle rise to the house.

  Hannah and her mother exchanged small talk as they walked arm in arm behind Dev. Hannah admired the long, easy stride of the man. The obvious close bond between father and son warmed her heart. She was curious about the woman Dev had married. And what ha
d happened between the two that had left him alone raising his son.

  A few minutes later they climbed up the steps of Dev’s imposing, two-story, white clapboard house with wraparound porch and overhang. The roofline was an interesting array of peaks, with a circular turret and balcony in front. She counted two chimneys that she could see and lots of decorative wood adorning the railing.

  Her mother led the way into a large foyer with living room on one side, dining room on the other, each decorated with crown moulding and chair rails. Their footsteps rang on the distressed oak floor as they continued down the hall. Entering an enormous kitchen, she glanced around, noting the new-looking appliances, hunter-green granite countertops and cooktop range with oven below and built-in microwave above. Right across from it was a ceramic-tiled island with an overhang on the other side where four oak stools sat.

  On the far side of the room in a nook complete with window seat, stood an oak table with ten matching ladderback chairs. Tasteful paper in a floral pattern hung on the bottom half of the walls while light beige paint contrasted beautifully with the white chair rail and decorative mouldings on the top half.

  “This is charming,” Hannah said, looking around in awe.

  “Thanks. My folks redecorated about a year ago.” Dev lifted Ben from his shoulders. “Go wash up, son.”

  “I already did, Dad.”

  “How long ago?” Dev rested his hands on lean hips as his son looked up at him with a slightly guilty look.

  “In town,” Ben answered vaguely.

  “About four hours ago,” Polly confirmed.

  “Quit stalling, squirt.”

  “Okay,” he grumbled, then disappeared down another hall.

  “He’s going to need some help reaching the sink,” Polly said, as she set out cookies, milk, fruit and iced tea. “I’d send his father,” she commented, giving the hunk hovering nearby a phony stern look, “but nine times out of ten more water winds up on the walls and floor than on their hands and faces.”

  “I’ll go,” Hannah offered. “I need to wash up, too.”

  “It’s down that hall,” Dev said. “If you see the utility room, you’ve gone too far.”

  “Thanks,” she answered, and headed off after his son.

  She found the room and saw Ben reaching without success to turn on the light. “Need some help, pal?”

  “No.” Ben shook his head. Then he looked at her and she realized how much he resembled his father. “Maybe a little.”

  She laughed and flipped the switch up with her thumb. The room was charming and functional. It had the same wood floor as the rest of the first story of the house. But the walls from top to bottom were covered with a tiny floral-print wallpaper, containing the same shades she’d seen in the kitchen. Wooden signs enhanced the country decor. The first that caught her eye read, So It Ain’t Home Sweet Home. Adjust! Another advised, Thou Shalt Not Whine.

  She smiled, then looked down at the small boy on tiptoe squirming this way and that to reach the spigot and soap pump. “Let me help,” she said, squirting some into his grubby little hand and turning on the water. Lifting him with one arm around his middle, she used her free hand to wet his palms and rub the bubbles around as she chattered. “Your dad told me you’ll be four next week. I bet you’ll be able to reach the light switch then.”

  He met her gaze in the mirror and grinned. “Yes, I will.”

  “You’re a pretty big guy.”

  He nodded and a lock of brown hair the same color as Dev’s fell over his forehead. “When I’m four, Daddy’s going to give me a horse.”

  “Wow. You’re pretty brave. I’m afraid of horses.”

  “Daddy’s going to teach me to ride. If he showed you how, you wouldn’t be a scaredy cat.”

  Hannah was so taken with his utter confidence in Dev that she almost didn’t mind the scaredy cat remark. Having never known that feeling toward her own father, she couldn’t help envying the boy.

  “If your dad put me on a horse, I’m not so sure I wouldn’t be scared,” she said. But she wasn’t talking about the horse part.

  “How about we find out?”

  Dev’s deep voice surprised her at the same time it raised goose bumps on her arms. She’d been so wrapped up in hand-washing and wondering about the things Ben’s daddy could show her, she hadn’t noticed the dad in question in the doorway behind her.

  “Find out what?” she asked, setting the child down and giving him the hand towel.

  “Let’s see if Ben’s right and I can teach you not to be scared—on a horse.”

  “Daddy can help you,” Ben said with absolute confidence.

  “How about tomorrow morning?” Dev suggested, leaning against the doorjamb. “Before it gets hot.”

  It could be ten degrees below zero and if he was nearby she would be hot, Hannah thought. If she said no, she’d look like the world’s biggest coward to a four-year-old. And she wasn’t too keen on Dev thinking that of her either.

  “Okay,” she said, ruffling the boy’s hair. She looked in the mirror, adjusting her gaze up to meet the tall cowboy’s. “I’ll meet you in the corral bright and early.”

  Maybe if it was bright enough and early enough, she would be brave enough to face Dev—and the horse.

  Chapter Two

  After a restless night, Dev had risen earlier than usual. He’d wanted to get work out of the way so he had plenty of time for Hannah’s riding lesson. Except why he should go to so much trouble was what had kept him awake in the first place. Here on the ranch, there were always a million and one things to do. Not to mention the godawful paperwork he avoided as long as he possibly could. Given a choice between four walls and a computer spreadsheet program or outdoors and the horses, there was no contest.

  All night long he hadn’t been able to stop factoring Hannah Morgan into the outdoors and horses part. Because he’d thought her presence would be awkward and it wasn’t. Because he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Because he’d watched his son take a fancy to her. Because she’d implied that he’d been Destiny High’s all-around playboy.

  That’s not the way he remembered it. She must have him confused with another cowboy she’d tutored.

  But for those reasons and probably some he hadn’t thought of yet, it was a fact that he now stood in the corral, horse saddled and waiting for her, at the time they’d agreed on. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he was waiting with more anticipation than he wanted to feel. He hadn’t seen Hannah yet today. He’d been out of the house and working before sunup, same as every other morning. Which was why he was so grateful to have Polly to look after Ben.

  Was it gratitude that had goaded him into this offer to teach Hannah to ride? Her mother had bailed him out big time by taking care of the house and his son. Hannah had doctored Newy’s bum shoulder yesterday. And Dev had to admit she’d impressed him with her skill. So he was beholden to both of the Morgan women. Was that enough to explain why the prospect of seeing Hannah had him lit up inside like the grand opening of a Las Vegas casino?

  His memories of her in high school were hazy at best. He remembered the tutoring. How could he forget? It had been damned humiliating. His grades had been pretty good—in everything but physics. To maintain sports eligibility, he’d been forced to get help in that subject. His teacher had insisted it be Hannah, who was tops in her honors class. But not only was she several years younger, she was a girl and a brainer. At a time when he was struggling to be a man, she’d made him feel like a greenhorn kid.

  She’d been skinny as a boy with glasses bigger than her face. Who knew in ten years she’d grow breasts and curves that would turn her into a package cute as could be? He’d never guessed that behind those Coke bottle lenses she’d had eyes bigger and bluer than a field of Texas bluebonnets.

  And so what?

  She was here for six weeks, to rest up and see her mother. The visit was nothing more than temporary because her life was on the west coast. He’d been burned once by a woman who’d b
elieved greener pastures were anywhere but Destiny. Hannah had left for college earlier than most and carved out a life for herself fifteen hundred miles away. He would be a fool to let luscious curves and beautiful blue eyes make him forget that. His mission was to get her over her fear of horses. Then leave her be.

  He glanced up the hill and saw her approaching. In her jeans, lime-green T-shirt and denim baseball hat, she looked awful darn tempting. She was covered from head to toe, but what she wore highlighted those mouthwatering curves he’d so recently thought about. His pulse kicked up a notch even though he could see very little of her flesh. That thought generated a subtle challenge inside him to see more.

  She stopped at the fence separating them and looked up at the horse for a long moment before meeting his gaze. “Good morning.”

  He touched the brim of his hat. “Mornin’.” He looked past her, expecting his son. The boy had taken quite a shine to her the day before. When he’d tucked Ben in last night, it was Hannah this, and Hannah that. He hadn’t thought she would be able to leave the house without the little guy tagging along. Especially after he’d pleaded with her to go for it in the first place.

  “Where’s Ben?” he asked.

  “He was listless when he got up this morning, and felt a little warm, so I took his temperature. It’s a hundred and one.”

  “Do you think it’s anything serious? Should I take him to—”

  “Doc Holloway?” she asked, raising one eyebrow. “I actually graduated very near the top of my medical school class. Then I did a double residency in pediatrics and internal medicine. I could get a complex about you guys running to Doc Holloway when an honest-to-goodness doctor is within spitting distance.”

  “Sorry. I forgot.” It probably had something to do with the fact that every time he laid eyes on her, he felt like he’d been kicked in the head by his favorite horse. That didn’t exactly help a cowboy put his best boot forward. “Did you check him over?”

  She nodded. “I always have my medical bag with me. Ears and throat looked okay. His chest sounded clear. At this point, there’s nothing to treat. Some kids just run a temp when they get run down. Mom knows what to do for the symptoms—rest, meds to control the fever, and lots of fluids. He was keeping a low profile when I left the house.”