The Doctor's Instant Family

by Mindy Neff

  “Why don’t you roll down the window and let that cold air cool you off?”

  He laughed. “So what did you think, Hollywood?”

  “About?”

  “About country doctoring.”

  This was much safer ground. It was tough being this close to him in the cab of the truck.

  “I honestly didn’t think this sort of thing existed. You’re a good doctor, Chance.” The compliment was sincere and she waited until he’d acknowledged it. “You made me consider my own patients. I don’t think I can ever go back to being the doctor I was.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not talking about skill. I’m talking about the verbal communications, the caring, the families. I’m always in such a rush. I check on one patient, then walk out and directly into the next examining room, the other one forgotten for the moment. A different face, a different ailment. They’re scared when they come to me. I don’t always take the time they need. But I can tell you one thing I’ve learned from you. When I go back, I won’t be letting my patients leave my office until all their questions have been answered.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve got good people skills, Kelly. I saw you in action.”

  “Today, yes. That was a wonderful eye-opening experience, and I think it’s going to make me a better doctor. You know, I was terrified to come to Montana.” She hated to admit that aloud, but this seemed to be a day for honesty and unburdening.

  “Alone, with just the girls. Not knowing anybody. It was so drastic, perhaps an act of desperation, but I took a chance. It could have gone either way with the kids.”

  “It seems to be having a favorable impact on them.”

  “Yes. I’m selling my house in Bel Air.” The admission came out of the blue. What was it about this man that got her talking and not knowing when to shut up. She gave a mental shrug.

  “I was afraid to make any significant changes after Steve died, didn’t want to put any more on the girls than they could handle. That’s why coming here was such a big risk. But now that we’ve been away, distanced ourselves from the familiar environment, I think selling will be easier. I called a real-estate agent and told her to list the house.”

  He looked at her, his expression guarded. “Are you staying here, then?”

  “No, I didn’t mean…” Damn. The sizzle between them was definitely going to cause problems. It was giving them all an unfair sense of hope. “I was going to buy another one closer to my office in Los Angeles,” she admitted quietly.

  “I see.” His tone was just as quiet.

  Silence filled the cab of the truck for the rest of the trip back to the clinic. Kelly wanted to probe, to ask him what he was thinking, but that would leave the door open for reciprocal questions.

  She didn’t have any answers of her own to give back if he asked the hard ones.

  Chapter Nine

  From the warmth of the kitchen, Kelly watched Chance in the corral where he was brushing a beautiful reddish-brown horse. Jessica and Kimmy followed on his heels like puppies every time he took a step.

  Since it was Saturday, the clinic was closed and Chance had announced it was the day for chores—which the girls promptly volunteered to help with.

  He wore a pager and the CB radio was on, both in the barn and in the house. If he was needed, he was within reach.

  That was the kind of man he was. Within reach. Someone to count on.

  He was an innately masculine man, yet he knew the names of his patients’ pets, had artwork of fairies on his walls and photos of babies on his tabletops.

  The contrast between the man and his environment was endearing. And exciting.

  And it was little wonder that the grapevine was alive and well, she thought. Everybody had a CB radio in their home and routinely listened in on neighbors’ conversations.

  Pulled by the scene beyond the kitchen window, Kelly downed some pain medication, hoping to take the edge off the ache behind her eyes, then put on her coat and went outside to brave the cold.

  The girls frolicking so close to that horse’s hooves was making her a bit nervous. They were small, within easy kicking distance. She clearly remembered what had happened to Chance when he’d gotten behind the hooves of an animal.

  She went to the corral fence, propped a boot on the bottom rung.

  “Girls, don’t get in Chance’s way.” Don’t get in the horse’s way.

  “We’re not in the way,” Jessica said. “Chance is gonna let us have a ride on Lolly. Peppermint was too cold and wanted to stay in her nice warm barn for longer. Chance telled us that. Can I feed Lolly some hay now, Chance? Please, please, please?”

  Chance grinned and looked down at Jessica. She was dancing around as if she had ants in her pants. “Okay, but just a little bit. We don’t want her to get too full. She gets lazy when she’s full and then doesn’t want to take little girls for a ride.”

  “Okay. Just a snack.” She held out her hand with a few strands of hay in her palm, then turned her head, peeking out the corner of her eye, giggling.

  “Don’t be scared. She’s a lady and ladies know better than to bite. It’s not polite.”

  Jessica giggled again, then squealed. “It tickles!”

  When Jessica squealed, Kimmy wrapped her arms around Chance’s thigh and pressed her cheek against it. He reached down and stroked her hair. He’d noticed that Kimmy didn’t always distinguish between a good scream and a bad one.

  And it melted his heart that she’d grabbed on to him. The trust she was beginning to place in him was a true gift.

  He lifted her up in his arms. “You want to ride?”

  She shook her head.

  “I do! I do!” Jessica yelled. Lolly’s head jerked and Jess ducked.

  “Whoa,” Chance soothed. “There’s a girl. Best not to hop,” he said to Jessica. “Lolly’ll think you’re a rabbit. And she doesn’t like to admit it,” he said in a stage whisper, “but she’s scared of rabbits.”

  That got Kimmy’s attention. She took her face out of his neck and looked at the horse through different eyes, evidently speculating that the horse might not be so bad if she was scared.

  “Aw,” Jessica cooed. “I’m sorry Lolly. Don’t be a’scared. We have a be-eau-tiful angel to watch over us and she can watch you, too, so the rabbits won’t get you. Okay?” She gently patted the horse’s leg with a mitten-covered hand.

  “Well, now, since we have angels watching, I guess it’d be a good time to take a ride. What do you say, Kimmy? You look like a girl who’s apt to change her mind. You want to ride on Lolly with your sister?”

  Kimmy thought a minute, then nodded her head.

  “Good girl. I’ll be right here for you. Up we go.” He put her on the horse’s bare back, steadied her with a hand on her leg, then reached down and swung Jessica up behind her sister.

  Belatedly he glanced at Kelly. “I guess I should have asked. Is this okay with you?”

  “It’s safe?”

  “You can trust me.” He was saying so much more. And he could see that she knew it. “I’ll have my hand on them the whole time.”

  He walked beside the sorrel, one hand holding the lead rope, the other resting on both little girls’ legs, ready to right them if they slipped. Lolly stepped daintily and slowly. Jessica beamed. Kimmy didn’t beam, but her tiny smile was enough to touch his heart.

  They made a loop around the corral, and when they came level with Kelly at the fence, he stopped, taking a good look. She looked a little pale, not her usual self. “You okay, Hollywood?”

  “Other than freezing, I’m fine.”

  There was strain in her eyes. He raised a brow. “No fibbing to the doc, Doc.”

  “It’s just a little headache.”

  “Did you take something?”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  He shrugged. “So sue me. I worry about people.”

  Her eyes softened and pulled him right in. He felt as though he could drown in those gre
en pools.

  “Why don’t you go on in the house, curl up by the fire and let the meds kick in. I’ll take good care of the kids.”

  He saw the immediate refusal spring to her eyes. He also saw that she desperately wanted to accept.

  He reached out and cupped her cheek. “Go on, Kel. We’ll be fine.”

  “All right. But I’ll be just inside if anybody needs me.”

  What would she do if he told her he needed her? He watched her walk away, saw how straight she held her shoulders, how she took great care not to move her head.

  “Again, Chance?” Jessica asked, bringing his attention back.

  “Okay, once more around the fence, then we have to go do the dirty work and muck out some stalls.”

  “Yuck. There’s a lot of poop in there.”

  “Yep. But Lolly gets pretty upset when her house is stinky.”

  Jessica giggled and leaned past Kimmy to pat Lolly on the neck. “Okay. We’ll make it sweet for her.”

  “Atta girl.”

  KELLY COULDN’T REST. She kept looking out the window, watching Chance charm her children, bend down to speak to them, to laugh, to ruffle their hair. They followed him with adoring eyes.

  Steve had never spent time like this with his daughters. He’d breeze in and say, “Hiya, kid.” And that was about it.

  He didn’t read them bedtime stories or tease them into smiles or walk them around corrals on a horse.

  The only reason Kimmy had been in the garage with him that fateful night six months ago was that Candy had overruled him, said yes when Steve said no.

  God, how she wished for once she hadn’t resented Steve’s no’s. She’d almost gloated when Candy had taken Kimmy out with them.

  If only she could go back and relive that night. She’d have snatched up her babies and run as far and fast with them as she could, shielded them from grown-up tragedy.

  Realizing she wasn’t going to get any rest for fear of missing something wonderful and endearing, Kelly took a book and a lawn chair out to the yard and parked it several feet away from the corral so she could watch the interaction between the girls and Chance.

  She shouldn’t let it touch her so. That was dangerous. But she couldn’t seem to help herself.

  Besides, maybe the cold would freeze this headache out of her.

  She started to object when Jessica took off toward the barn, chasing after Scout, but she made herself sit quietly because Chance was watching, too, and didn’t appear to mind. Besides, none of them had noticed her sitting there, and Kelly decided that was just as well. It gave her the opportunity to simply observe.

  Chance and Kimmy stayed in the corral with Lolly—who was moseying around loose. Kelly tried to relax, told herself that Chance would never put her children in harm’s way.

  “So, Kimmy, what do you think of Lolly?” she heard him ask. Without waiting for Kimmy, he answered for her, carrying on a conversation as though Kimmy was keeping up her end of the deal.

  “You think she’s a beauty, hmm? So do I. Want to know a secret? Lolly used to live in a bad place. The people who had her didn’t take good care of her. When she came here, her heart was broken and she was sad and quiet and scared, and her ears drooped. My friend Stony fixed her, though. You’ve met him, remember? Nikki’s dad. Well, he’s what we call a horse whisperer. He talks to horses without ever saying a word. You understand how to do that, don’t you?”

  He shook out a saddle blanket and hung it over the fence, then picked up the hose he’d retrieved from inside the barn and hooked it to the spigot. “Sometimes people can say a lot without a single word. Doesn’t make them all that different, does it.”

  Kimmy was following him, listening intently, watching his every move. “Here, you hold the hose and I’ll turn on the water. The trough’s getting a little low, and we don’t want Peppermint and Lolly to strangle themselves trying to get a drink.”

  He stopped and gave Kimmy a wary look. “You’re not thinking about squirting me with that hose, are you? Because I’d turn into an icicle, then I’d have to doctor myself. Oh, I forgot, your mom could doctor me. Do you let her doctor you? I bet you do. She likes that, you know. Likes being needed. Makes her feel like a ‘can do’ girl.

  “That’s why we have to let her take care of us. I tell you, I wasn’t real happy letting her sew up my head when that old donkey accidentally kicked me, but she did a very fine job. Barely notice the stitches. See?” He leaned down and shifted his hat so she could inspect the wound.

  “What do you think? Think it’ll leave a scar?”

  Kimmy shook her head.

  “That’s good to know. I’d hate to ruin my good looks.” He stopped, glanced down at Kimmy and waggled his eyebrows. “You think I’m conceited? Naw. I’ve just got healthy self-esteem. That means I like who I am, and if somebody called me a name, it wouldn’t bother me because I’d know better. You ever had anybody call you names or say mean things? My two sisters used to call me names all the time.”

  Kimmy turned to look up at him and the hose went with her, nearly dousing Chance’s boots, but he smoothly directed the stream back where it belonged.

  “Does that surprise you? It’s okay, really. Because even if they teased me or called me names, my sisters still loved me.”

  He placed a hand on Kimmy’s shoulder, glanced into the trough. “That’s probably enough water, don’t you think? Hang on a sec, and I’ll go turn it off.”

  Kelly smiled at the nonsense talk he kept up. She could see by Kimmy’s expression that she felt as though someone was actually interested in her and not treating her like a baby.

  Kelly tried to read, or at least pretended to. She didn’t want Chance and Kimmy to know that she was eavesdropping. They still hadn’t noticed that she was sitting here.

  When snowflakes landed on her book, she looked up. Everything within her went still.

  Kimmy was standing in the corral, her red mitten-covered hands held out, head back and tongue out, trying to catch snowflakes in her mouth. It was such a normal kid thing to do.

  Chance noticed, also. And he stopped what he was doing, mimicked Kimmy’s stance and waited for snowflakes to land in his mouth, too. Kimmy looked at him. Some sort of silent communication seemed to be taking place between them.

  And Kelly was terribly, terribly afraid she’d just lost her heart.

  Still grappling with that startling realization, she frowned when a van turned into the long driveway that led to the house. The interruption caused Chance to look over, finally noticing her sitting off to the side.

  He glanced at the van that had the name of a florist on the side, then squatted next to Kimmy and called for Jessica, whispering in both girls’ ears. The girls came running over to Kelly’s side.

  A young man got out of the van with an armful of flowers.

  Flowers in the dead of winter.

  “I’ve got a delivery for a Kelly Anderson, Jessica Anderson and Kimberly Anderson.”

  “I’m Kelly.” She took the clipboard he held out to her and signed her name.

  “These are for you, then.” He handed her a gold box tied with a red bow. Through the cellophane window on the top, she could see what was inside.

  Roses.

  Speechless, hands trembling, she looked up and across the yard to where Chance was leaning against the corral fence, watching them. His black hat was cocked low on his brow, his denim jacket hanging open, an elbow propped on the wooden rail. A smile creased his sinfully handsome face.

  Hearing the delivery boy speak, she dragged her gaze away, saw the young man hand a spray of daisies to Kimberly and a bouquet of sunflowers to Jessica, who was squealing and dancing and hugging the flowers so hard yellow pollen was smeared on her face. Kimberly was holding hers as delicately as fragile china.

  Where in the world had he found sunflowers and daisies in December?

  “Enjoy,” the boy said, and jogged back to the van.

  Kelly untied the bow and carefully lifted the to
p off the box. The heady fragrance of roses wafted up. Twelve of them. Velvety red ones. The color of love.

  When Kelly looked up again, Chance was standing beside her. A lump rose in her throat. She hadn’t felt this weepy this often in her entire life.

  There were no cards with the flowers, but she knew who they were from.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Just for fun. Haven’t you ever gotten flowers for no reason? Just because?”

  “I’ve never received flowers, period.” She lifted the blooms from the box and buried her nose in them.

  He gaped at her. “You’re kidding, right?”

  She shook her head.

  “Not even for your prom?”

  “I didn’t go to a prom. And I bought my own flowers for my wedding.”

  “Damn it, Kelly. Are you telling me no little boy ever even gave you a wildflower?”

  He sounded so indignant she put a soothing hand on his arm, chuckled. “It’s okay, Chance. Did you ever give a little girl a wildflower?”

  “Yes. Tina Lindenberg. Third grade. I was in love.”

  “And did she love you back?”

  “Yes, until Cheyenne turned her head. She dropped me like a hot brick. It was those brooding Indian looks. The girls couldn’t resist him. Took me two whole days to forgive him.”

  She laughed, because she imagined all the little girls hadn’t been able to resist Chance, either. He had a charm that drew a female in whether she wanted to be drawn in or not.

  What would it have been like, she wondered, to have gone through school normally, having little boys present her with bouquets of wildflowers, to go to classes each day, enjoy the fun of recesses and spit wads and passing notes when the teacher wasn’t looking?

  Instead, she’d been obsessed with going faster, higher, sooner, forever trying to stay one step ahead of the scream.

  With the blooms held carefully against her chest, she gazed up at Chance and said softly, very softly, “Thank you.”