by Pamela Toth
“Behave, children,” Barb told them.
“Who owns the mine?” Vadivu asked Chris.
“A man named Amos Douglas won the Queen of Hearts in a card game back in the 1880s,” he replied. “The land still belongs to his descendants.”
“Douglas?” echoed Marty. “Any connection to the Douglas who’s developing the new ski resort?”
Chris nodded. “Caleb Douglas is Amos’s grandson. The Douglas family probably owns more land than anyone else in this area.” He didn’t bother to add that Caleb strutted around town as though he owned Thunder Canyon, too. Chris was surprised he hadn’t run for mayor. Caleb must be in his fifties, so there was still time.
“Ah. Has Caleb got any unmarried daughters?” Marty asked, mouth full. “I could use some help with my student loans.”
Everyone laughed at his comment. Even Zoe smiled.
“Caleb Douglas has two sons, Riley and Justin.” Barb set her napkin next to her empty plate. “Justin’s the illegitimate one who married that woman at the Heritage Festival right before the blizzard.”
“Oh, you’re referring to Katie Fenton, the librarian,” Vadivu said. “She’s a very nice lady. I just wish the library wasn’t so small.” She sighed. “Seattle has a wonderful library system, even though the new downtown building looks like a partially squashed aluminum box.”
“Have you been to that music museum in Seattle, the one that looks like a crushed guitar?” asked Marty.
Vadivu shook her head. “You mean Experience Music? That’s not really my thing.”
“I’d love to eat dinner at the Space Needle sometime,” Barb said. “What a rush to be that high.”
For a few moments, the conversation veered away from the Douglas family tree to unusual places they’d all been to or wanted to visit, and then on to people they missed back home. Once again, Chris noticed that Zoe remained silent, contributing nothing.
“So old Caleb doesn’t have any daughters?” Marty asked with a dramatic sigh after he had finished eating.
“Well, none that we actually know of,” Barb drawled.
Marty laughed at her comment, but Vadivu looked uncomfortable as she scooted back her chair. “I’ll start clearing off the table.”
Before Chris could say anything, Zoe also got to her feet. “I’ll help.”
Her offer surprised him. Maybe just because she came from a fancy part of L.A., drove a new car—when most of the interns and residents were too burdened with student loans to afford wheels—and didn’t live in staff housing didn’t mean she was spoiled.
“None of this explains why no one knew there was gold in the mine.” Marty leaned back in his chair and handed his plate to Vadivu, who accepted it wordlessly.
Annoyed by the younger man’s attitude, Chris didn’t bother to reply. He didn’t tolerate discrimination of any kind in the E.R., so Marty had better watch his step and pull his own weight or Chris would fillet him like a mountain trout.
“Who made you king?” Barb demanded, glaring at the redhead. “Get off your butt and help with the KP.”
Rather than appearing resentful or embarrassed, Marty got to his feet. “Same goes, princess,” he told Barb with an upward jab of his thumb. He looked at Chris. “Great meal, Doc.”
A chorus of agreement accompanied the general shifting of chairs.
“I’m glad you all could make it.” Chris picked up the carved-wood salad bowl his folks had sent him from Arizona. “Let’s load the dishwasher and then go out and burn off some calories,” he suggested. Outside the darkening bay window, the afternoon’s snow had stopped and the wind appeared to have died down.
Zoe reappeared in the doorway from the kitchen. “I should probably leave,” she said. “Thank you for including me.”
His spirits plunged with disappointment.
“No, you can’t go yet,” Barb exclaimed. “No one else wants to leave, and you can’t expect the rest of us to squeeze into my old beater.”
If Zoe was bothered by Barb’s bluntness, she didn’t let it show. Instead, she appeared hesitant as she nibbled her full lower lip.
Ignoring his instant hormonal reaction, Chris gave Zoe his most engaging grin. “Come on, Dr. Hart. You’ve got time for a snowball fight before you leave.”
He could almost see her withdrawal, as though his choice of address had reminded her that he could pull rank if he chose. Damn, he hadn’t meant to imply that he was ordering her to stay.
Instead of answering him, she turned around, hands empty, and went back into the kitchen.
A snowball fight? How childish could they get?
For an instant, Zoe had been pleasantly surprised that Barb wanted her to stay, but then the other resident had made it crystal clear to everyone that she was interested in Zoe’s taxi service, not her company.
Whether the rest of them liked her or not didn’t matter. As frustrated as a cat in a cage, she crossed to the kitchen window, arms folded, and stood with her back to the room and the comments that flowed back and forth.
Refusing Dr. Taylor’s dinner invitation wouldn’t have been prudent, so she had come. Now that she had put in the obligatory appearance, there was no reason for her to hang around for a romp in the snow.
Even in a group, the man made her uncomfortable, as did this quaint country setting, with its barn and pastures—and animals. She was out of her element—not just here in Lightning Gulch, as she called it privately, but in the wide-open spaces of Montana. If it hadn’t been for the lecture she had attended back at Berkeley, given by Dr. Olivia Chester, Zoe would be completing her residency at some huge medical complex in California where she shared her mother’s condo.
Longing for temperate weather, Zoe frowned at the fresh snow blanketing the ground outside the window. It was supposed to be springtime, not the middle of winter!
“Zoe?” A hand touched her shoulder.
Stiffening in reaction, she turned to gaze up into Dr. Taylor’s ocean-blue eyes.
“Yes?” She tried to back away, but the chill from the window glass seeped right through her sweater, making her shiver.
Immediately he let his hand drop and took a step back, as though he sensed her discomfiture. “Are you all right?” he asked quietly. “Do you really need to leave?”
Barb glanced at them curiously as she walked by with some dirty glasses. Her ears were probably straining to hear what was being said.
Zoe lifted her chin and curved her mouth into a social smile that would have made her mother proud. “I’m fine, thank you. I wouldn’t want to break up the party, so I’ll wait for the others.” She had no idea where the decision had come from, but she was stuck with it now.
“Are you sure? I can drive people back to town later if you must go,” he offered. He seemed to be studying her, which made her wonder if he was assessing her for a report.
Standoffish? Doesn’t play well with others? She could imagine the words written on some secret evaluation that weighed her and found her lacking. Doesn’t fit in? Why did she always have to assume that she would come up short in the eyes of her peers? Surely not everyone in her life saw her inadequacies as clearly as did her parents.
“That’s not necessary,” she replied. “But thank you for offering.” Maybe he wanted her to go.
For an instant, he leaned closer, his gaze darkening. “That’s a lot of thank yous,” he murmured. “Be careful, Zoe, or you’ll owe me.”
Shock left her speechless, feet rooted to the floor, as he straightened and turned away. What had he meant by that?
“Come on, people,” he called, clapping his hands as though he were herding children out to recess. “There are spare gloves and hats in the mudroom in case anyone needs them. Boots, too. So no excuses.”
He probably shouldn’t have added that last comment about owing him, Chris thought as he zipped his parka and pulled a stocking cap down over his ears.
The last thing he wanted was to give Zoe the wrong impression or make her feel inappropriately pressu
red. Teasing someone like her was too darned tempting, especially when he saw the way her big blue eyes had widened with alarm. Or maybe it was Zoe who was tempting. He would have to be careful.
Meanwhile, he had snowballs to make.
In just a few moments, Chris and his residents were all running around like a band of noisy children. In the artificial glow cast by the overhead yard light, a barrage of fat white missiles, whoops of triumph and shrieks of dismay filled the air as they scrambled to hit each other. Even Ringo got into the mix, barking excitedly as he darted among the noisy combatants.
The worst of the battle was over quickly. The snow had been trampled underfoot, leaving churned peaks that resembled mounds of whipped cream. Marty lay sprawled on his back on the ground, still chuckling helplessly. Barb’s face was flushed and her dark jacket was splotched with white, evidence that she’d been a popular target. Their breaths formed pale clouds, and Ringo sat on his haunches with his tongue hanging out.
Relatively unscathed, Chris scooped up more snow and compacted it as he turned in a circle, searching for Zoe. He had been too busy dodging snowballs to spot her during the skirmish. After he’d practically insisted that she stay, the least he could do was make sure she didn’t escape completely unscathed.
She was standing alone on the sidelines, her purple jacket and dark pants hard to notice in the shadow of the utility shed. Just as he saw her, a cold, wet snowball hit him squarely in the back of his neck and slid down inside his collar.
With a yelp of surprise, he hunched up his shoulders and turned around to glare at his assailant with as much menace as he could manage. Several feet away, Vadivu was nearly doubled over with laughter. Her black eyes sparkled with horrified glee, her gloved hand covering her mouth, while the pom-pom on top of her red-and-yellow-striped hat bobbed like a big fat dandelion.
“I’m sorry!” she gasped between giggles. “I was aiming for Barb, I swear.”
“Hey, why me?” Barb demanded hotly, brushing the snow from her jacket.
“Let’s wash Vu’s face!” Marty cried as he scrambled to his feet. “I’ll hold her.”
Vadivu’s laughter turned to puzzlement. “What do you mean about washing my face? It’s already clean, and water would freeze my poor skin out here.”
“He’s talking about rubbing snow on your face, not water,” Zoe explained, stepping closer. “It’s a barbaric custom perpetuated by little boys who refuse to grow up.”
“Oh, really?” Chris drawled, as Marty lunged playfully at the Indian girl. She ducked, shrieking loudly, and scooped up handfuls of loose snow that she tossed at him before she spun away. Marty gave chase, restarting the battle as he pelted her, too.
Ignoring the shrieks, Zoe stood her ground as she watched Chris warily. The harsh utility light drained the color from her face, leaving a pearly glow to her cheeks. Her knit cap, with its topknot, matched the black fur trim on her jacket. The outfit made her look as though she belonged on some trendy ski slope with the rich and famous, not his trampled-up stable yard. He would guess that her clothes set her further apart from the other residents, who wore a hodgepodge of styles that could have come from the local thrift store, Second Chances.
Chris allowed himself one long look at Zoe before bending down for more snow. As he did, a snowball flew past his ear and struck her square in the face.
Zoe didn’t see the white blur coming in time to duck. She barely managed to shut her eyes before it hit. For one stunned moment, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see a thing, because of the sudden burst of cold. Vaguely she heard a shout of triumph. As she stumbled backward blindly, firm hands steadied her.
“Easy,” Dr. Taylor said softly. “Don’t fall over or they’ll be on you like a pack of wild dogs.”
Breathing through her mouth, Zoe wiped the snow from her face. Thank goodness for waterproof mascara. That and tinted gloss, to protect her lips from getting chapped, were all she had bothered with after work. Her hair, freed from its clip after work, was probably hanging in wet strings around her chapped and blotchy cheeks.
Charming. All she needed was for her red nose to start running. Or glowing, like Rudolph’s.
“Hold still.” Dr. Taylor had removed one glove. His hand was warm against her skin as he leaned down to carefully brush away the snow that clung to her face and hair.
Zoe had never been this close to him before. When he caught her staring, he went still and their gazes held for a timeless moment while the sounds around them seemed to recede. His grip tightened on her shoulder, his eyes darkening with awareness as she forgot to breathe.
“Hey, Doc,” someone called, shattering the moment of intimacy. “Can we see your horses?”
He waved his hand without turning his head. “Welcome to Montana, Zoe,” he said softly.
She frowned, her cheeks blooming with heat despite the cold air. “I beg your pardon? In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been here for several weeks.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed,” he drawled. “But you haven’t truly arrived until you’ve been pasted in a snowball fight.”
“Oh.” Her voice sounded small to her ears. Without thinking, she let her gaze drop to his mouth. Its shape was mesmerizing.
What would it feel like to kiss him?
The unbidden thought shocked her right down to her slightly numb toes. Her knees nearly buckled. Horrified, she jerked her attention back to his eyes. His expression had sharpened, as though he knew exactly what she’d been thinking. The notion flustered her even more.
No matter how she felt inside, she never allowed her feelings to show. So this temporary lapse had to be from the high elevation. It was the chilled air that made her head spin.
“N-now I really do need to leave, if the guys who came with me are ready,” she stammered, heart thudding. “I’ve g-got some reading to finish before my shift in the morning.” She was babbling, but she couldn’t seem to stem the flow of words. “I’m assisting Dr. Chester with surgery at seven, so I have to read up on the procedure.”
His expression changed, losing its intensity as he pulled on his glove. “Olivia’s a treasure. You can learn a lot from her.”
“She’s the reason I came to this godforsaken wilderness,” Zoe blurted thoughtlessly.
He went as still as a statue. “What do you mean?”
Had he thought she actually liked being stuck out here? She hadn’t meant to offend him, but she had forgotten for a moment that he was a native son. He had told them tonight that he’d grown up right in this house. Thanks to the hospital grapevine, no one had any real secrets, and everyone had known that already.
She also knew they called her the “ice queen,” but she didn’t care.
He was frowning, so she couldn’t very well ignore his question asking what she’d meant by her tactless remark.
“When I was at Berkeley, I attended one of Dr. Chester’s lectures on women’s health,” she explained. “She described her work in rural and depressed areas, and the clinics that she’s helped to open and run. I was impressed. She’s made a real difference.”
When he remained silent, Zoe shrugged self-consciously, reluctant to elaborate on her own career goals and reveal too much of herself. “It’s a field that interests me,” she tacked on lamely. Why did she let him continue to shake her normally unshakable poise?
The dog’s barking distracted them both. Dr. Taylor glanced over his shoulder and Zoe noticed part of the group heading toward the stable. Vadivu and the other girl who had ridden with Zoe were standing near the back porch, deep in conversation. She hoped they didn’t mind leaving now, because she was in desperate need of some time alone to decompress.
“Looks like I’d better start the tour of the petting zoo,” Dr. Taylor quipped. “Sure you won’t stay a little longer? I can promise to show you some real live horses.”
She knew from his tone that he was teasing, but she figured she had monopolized his attention for long enough, even though she hadn’t asked for it.
&nb
sp; “I’ve seen horses before,” she replied drily. “But thanks again for dinner. It was very nice.”
“No problem. If you like to ride, you’re welcome to come out anytime.” His smile was open and friendly. Maybe the personal interest she’d thought she had noticed had been merely a product of her own arrogance, and he was only trying to be nice.
Not every man is after you, her mother had commented once after Zoe had complained about a neighbor’s beady stare.
“I don’t ride western.” She hadn’t meant to sound so stuck-up.
“A pity.” His grin widened. “But I reckon you could learn, little lady. You look fairly bright.”
She nearly laughed at his terrible accent. “I, um, left my purse in the house.” She waved at the other two girls. “Ready?” she called.
Vadivu nodded. “Anytime.” Like Zoe, she spent a lot of time cracking the books in the staff housing she shared with two other girls. Once, she had commented that she came from a big, noisy family, so living in bedlam wasn’t a bother. Zoe used to envy girls who came from big families.
“Go ahead and get your things from the house while I wipe the snow off your car,” Dr. Taylor offered, heading toward the driveway.
There was no denying it—in addition to being as attractive as an actor on a TV soap, he seemed genuinely nice. Zoe usually went for sophisticated, uncomplicated and shallow, so why did her radar go nuts whenever the head of the E.R. came in range?
She didn’t think she’d like the obvious answer, so she ignored it.
A few minutes later, she and her two passengers were on their way. Vadivu sat in the back, so the blonde in the passenger seat—whose name Zoe had forgotten—sat turned half-around so the two of them could discuss one of the lab techs from work.
“He looks like that guy from Scrubs, only cuter,” said the blonde.
Zoe hardly ever watched television. With nothing to contribute, she tuned out their chatter. The road back to town was curving and she didn’t have a lot of experience driving in snow, so she gripped the wheel tightly and watched for icy patches on the pavement ahead.