Her Kind of Doctor

by Stella Bagwell

  Her gray eyes twinkling, she smiled at him. “The doctor is going to keep his granddaughter very happy. So he won’t mind at all.”

  Epilogue

  Nine months later, on a brisk May morning, Paige sat at the kitchen table sipping decaffeinated coffee. A few minutes ago when she and Luke had gotten home from work, she’d changed out of her scrubs and pulled on a warm chenille robe. Now with her feet propped on a nearby chair, she pulled the pens from her bun and allowed her long hair to fall down her back.

  At the gas range, Luke was attempting to cook them both a ham-and-cheese omelet.

  “This isn’t going to taste as good as you or Gideon could make it,” he warned as he slipped a portion of egg concoction onto two separate plates. “But at least I have my pregnant wife sitting down and off her feet for a few minutes.”

  He added slices of toast to each omelet and carried one of the plates over to her. Paige gave him a loving smile. “Thank you, sweetheart. It will taste great, I’m sure. And you need to quit fretting over me. Carrying a baby is a normal condition for a woman. And so far I’ve had a very healthy pregnancy.”

  He fetched his own plate of food and joined her at the table. “Yes. But you’re nearly seven months along now and the baby is getting heavy. I honestly wish you’d take maternity leave early. Chet already has someone scheduled to take your place in the ER.”

  “How will you get along in the ER without your prize nurse?” She pulled an impish face at him before she popped a bite of omelet into her mouth. After one chew, she looked at him with pleasant surprise. “Honey, this is delicious. Grandfather must have been giving you some great cooking lessons.”

  Luke chuckled as he began to eat. “These past months Gideon has given me more than just cooking lessons. He’s taught me that when it comes to women a man has to have patience. For example, he listens to Hatti’s complaining and rarely ever grumbles.”

  Paige laughed. “Rarely ever grumbles to her, you mean. We hear all about it. But at least he’s healthy and happy.”

  Luke shook his head in amazement. “He’s found some sort of fountain of youth and hasn’t told us about it. The man works harder than a thirty-year-old and shows no signs of slowing down.”

  Paige looked at her husband and sighed with contentment. Two weeks after Luke had proposed to her on the bench beneath the pinyon tree, they’d married in a modest ceremony held at a small church in Fallon. Paige’s cream-colored dress and short veil had been simple and the flowers decorating the sanctuary few, but she’d never felt more beautiful as she’d stood next to Luke and repeated the vows to love and honor her husband.

  Marcella had been her maid of honor and Chavella one of her bridesmaids, while Chet had acted as Luke’s best man. The short row of pews had been filled with friends and coworkers from the hospital, along with Gideon’s old friends from the farming community. To Paige’s surprise her mother had driven down from Montana to see her daughter married. But Evie’s appearance hadn’t compared to the shock that Luke had received when his sister, Pamela, and her husband had shown up for the ceremony.

  A few months after the wedding, Pamela had given birth to a healthy daughter and had been keeping in regular touch with her brother ever since. The siblings had seemingly put the tragedy of their parents behind them once and for all. And Paige prayed it would remain in the past.

  “You know, our baby is going to be Grandfather’s first great-grandchild, so we might as well get ready for him to spoil him, or her, rotten,” Paige said. “He’s already talking about getting the baby on the tractor.”

  Smiling, Luke nodded. “And I’m sure by the time he’s six weeks old you’ll have him in the goat pen.”

  She laughed, then shot him a suspicious glance. “You said him. Have you asked Dr. Landers whether it’s a boy or girl? Remember, we made a deal to let the gender be a surprise. If you’ve cheated—”

  He wagged a playful finger at her. “I haven’t cheated. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a doctor. When I listen to our baby’s heartbeat it sounds like a boy to me.”

  Accepting his explanation, she leveled an indulgent smile at him. “Okay. If you’re that certain it’s going to be a boy I’ll concentrate on getting all things blue for the nursery.”

  “Whoa!” he exclaimed with a laugh. “I didn’t say I was that certain!”

  Recently, Luke had hired a contractor to build on a nursery next to Luke and Paige’s bedroom. Along with that added space, Gideon had agreed to let the carpenters paint the roof and fix the siding. But Luke didn’t suggest any more upgrades to the place. He seemed to understand that the old farmhouse’s simple charm was the very thing that made it feel like home.

  Between bites of egg and toast, Paige said, “I’m teasing. I’ve decided I want to put everything in pale yellow and white. Are you agreeable to that?”

  “Of course I’m agreeable, darling. Our son will look handsome no matter what color scheme you put in the nursery.”

  Paige was about to suggest the coming child was going to be a daughter, when the door leading to the back porch suddenly opened and Gideon stepped into the warm kitchen. A sock cap covered his head and an old plaid coat was buttoned tightly up to his throat.

  “Spring is bashful about showing her face today,” he declared as he wiped his feet on a small braided rug. “I’ll bet you both a dollar we get snow tonight.”

  Luke said, “I’m not about to bet against your weather forecasts, Gideon. You’re more accurate than a meteorologist.”

  Gideon’s pleased grin was something Paige had seen a lot of since she and Luke had married. The two men had already grown close and it warmed her through and through to know her grandfather considered Luke as the son he’d always wanted.

  “The mailman just left. Got a stack of it today.” He pulled a roll of mail from his coat pocket and tossed it on the table. “You two go through it. I’m going to get some coffee and try to thaw out.”

  As Paige finished the last few bites on her plate, she began to sift through the envelopes and flyers. “Except for a seed catalog it all looks like junk,” she said, then paused. “Uh, wait, here’s something addressed to you, Luke. Looks like it’s marked with a hospital seal.”

  Luke put down his coffee cup and took the envelope from Paige’s outstretched hand. As he scanned the return address, a dubious frown tugged his brows together.

  “It’s from Oceanside Medical Center in Baltimore, where I used to work.”

  While he read the correspondence, Paige rose and carried her plate over to the sink.

  “This is incredible,” he said finally, as he folded the two-page letter and placed it back into the envelope. “The hospital is offering me a position on a diagnostic team. It’s a prestigious spot, plus a huge salary goes with it.”

  Paige exchanged a glance with her grandfather before she went to stand next to Luke’s chair. “Are you serious? Why would they be offering you something like that now? You’ve not been there in six years.”

  Clearly amazed by the unexpected news, Luke shook his head. “It appears as though Dr. Weston’s conscience must have finally started working. He suggested to the hospital board that I’d be the perfect doctor for the job.”

  Staring at him in disbelief, she exclaimed, “Oh Luke, that’s wonderful! I mean, wonderful that the man is finally trying to atone for his wrongdoings. But…what are you going to do about the offer?”

  Luke didn’t hesitate. He promptly crushed the envelope in his fist, then stood and tossed the wad of paper straight into the wastebasket.

  “You’re not going to consider the offer?” she aske
d.

  His eyes warm with love, he pulled her into the circle of his protective arms. “Why should I? I have everything I want right here with you and Gideon, and our coming baby.”

  With her cheek resting contentedly against her husband’s chest, she spotted her grandfather standing a few steps away, and the smile on Gideon’s face spoke the words that were whispering through her heart.

  Dr. Luke Sherman had come home. Home to stay.

  *

  And look for Stella Bagwell’s next book, the third installment in the MONTANA MAVERICKS: THE GREAT FAMILY ROUNDUP continuity, available September 2017 wherever Harlequin books and ebooks are sold!

  And if you’re looking for more MEN OF THE WEST, don’t miss out on previous books in this miniseries, available now:

  THE COWBOY’S CHRISTMAS LULLABY

  HIS BADGE, HER BABY… THEIR FAMILY?

  HER RUGGED RANCHER

  Keep reading for an excerpt from FORTUNE’S SURPRISE ENGAGEMENT by Nancy Robards Thompson.

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  Fortune’s Surprise Engagement

  by Nancy Robards Thompson

  Chapter One

  “It’s time to break out the Fuzzy Handcuffs, Mike.” Olivia Fortune Robinson gave the sexy bartender her most flirtatious smile.

  He cocked a brow and grinned. “It’s my pleasure to hook you ladies up.”

  “Excuse me?” Her sister Sophie frowned at him and then her eyes went wide as realization seemed to dawn. “Oh, no.” Sophie held up her hands as if to ward off Mike. “Please tell me you are not a stripper.” She pinned her panicked gaze on her sister. “Olivia, Dana and I specifically told you we didn’t want strippers at our bachelorette party. No offense, Mike. I’m sure you’re very good at what you do. You just can’t do it here. Not tonight. Not for us.”

  She looked at her sister-in-law-to-be, Dana Trevino, and the other Fortune Robinson sisters seated on the plush love seats and overstuffed armchairs grouped around a glass cocktail table in a cozy corner of the Driskill Hotel bar.

  Sophie’s brown eyes were huge and color blazed high on her cheekbones. By contrast, Dana seemed to have gone pale as she perched hesitantly on the edge of her seat, as if weighing whether or not to bolt. Watching the pair of them squirm was worth all the effort Olivia had put into planning this sisters’ weekend. Olivia almost hated to burst their horrified balloons.

  “Unfortunately, Mike is not a stripper,” she said, pausing to let them sit with thoughts of what they would be missing.

  Her sister Rachel sighed. “Aw, that’s too bad. For one glorious moment, I thought we had our very own Magic Mike.”

  Zoe, another sister, nodded in agreement.

  Mike laughed. “Sorry, ladies. It’s true, I’m not a stripper. Although I will be tending to your every need tonight.”

  The innuendo was thick.

  “Does that mean you’re a gigolo then?” Rachel asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

  Mike laughed. “No, not a gigolo, either. I am your personal bartender and I am happy to be at your service.”

  Sophie’s mouth formed a perfect O before her brows knit together. “And exactly what were you planning to do with the fuzzy handcuffs?”

  Olivia and Mike exchanged a conspiratorial look.

  “Forgive them,” she said. “They don’t get out much.”

  “There is nothing to forgive,” he said. “Would you like to tell her about the Fuzzy Handcuffs or shall I?”

  “Please, do the honors,” Olivia said.

  “Your sister commissioned me to create a signature cocktail for your bachelorette party.” He stopped and looked at Sophie. “I’m guessing you are one of the brides.”

  “Yes, I’m Sophie.”

  He took her hand and lifted it to his lips before he asked, “Which one of you is Dana?”

  “That would be me.” The pretty redhead gave a hesitant wave before she tucked her hands into the fabric of her flowing gypsy skirt. Mike winked at her. Rachel and Zoe promptly introduced themselves, laughing as they made a dramatic show of extending their hands for a kiss. Mike didn’t disappoint them.

  Mike was a very good sport. As Olivia made a mental note to tell the manager how he’d gone above and beyond, her gaze was snared by a tall, dark, good-looking man walking into the bar. Though she only caught his profile before he turned and sat down with his back to her, he reminded her of someone. Who, she couldn’t place, but Olivia hadn’t gotten a very good look at him.

  “Congratulations, ladies,” Mike said. “I’m honored to serve you on your special night. I understand you’re staying at the Driskill?”

  “We are,” Sophie said. “We checked in this afternoon. Olivia has planned a fabulous weekend for us.”

  “Nothing but the best for my sisters,” Olivia said.

  “When is the wedding?” he asked.

  “Next weekend,” Dana said. “Right here in this hotel in the ballroom. But there will be a full week of events leading up to the ceremony. This girls’ get-together is a nice way to kick off the festivities.”

  “Well, don’t let me hold up the party,” Mike said. “One round of Fuzzy Handcuffs coming right up.”

  “Fuzzy Handcuffs.” Rachel shook her head. “Only you would come up with a name like that, Olivia. Only you.”

  They all laughed.

  “Originally, Mike wanted to call the drink the Bride’s First Blush, but that was boring.”

  “No it’s not,” Sophie said. “It’s pretty.”

  Olivia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The name Bride’s First Blush was too sweet for such a potent cocktail. The drink itself was perfect. It was festive and fizzy, but it also had just the right amount of something stronger to pack a pop. It needed a name that was just as strong, not one that sounded like a virgin cocktail. Fuzzy Handcuffs was perfect.

  Olivia had gone to the ends of the earth to ensure that every single detail of this sisters’ weekend was perfect. And of course, it had been perfect so far. She may have been a computer programmer by trade, but if she ever found herself in need of a career change, she did have a knack for event planning.

  Sophie and Dana weren’t party girls, so they’d been ecstatic with the plan of a weekend of pampering. After they’d checked into the suite at the Driskill, a limousine had whisked them away to the spa where they’d enjoyed hot stone massages, facials, seaweed wraps, special conditioners that had b
rought out the shine in their tresses and luxurious aromatherapy soaks in jetted tubs. At noon, they’d taken a break from the pampering to enjoy a light lunch complete with mimosas. Afterward, they’d returned to the spa for mani-pedis before adjourning to the pool to sip fruit-infused reverse-osmosis water while they relaxed and soaked up just enough sun so not to burn, but to give them a healthy glow.

  “I wanted my sister and sister-to-be’s last weekend of freedom to be something you two will never forget. Since you nixed the strippers, I had to sneak in something edgy somewhere else. Voilà—Fuzzy Handcuffs. At least I didn’t call it the Ol’ Ball and Chain.”

  “No, that’ll be the name of the drink we serve at your bachelorette party,” Zoe quipped.

  “Hell Froze Over might be a more apt name for my bridal cocktail, since that’s what would happen if I ever got married.”

  “Don’t be so cynical,” Zoe said. “You reap what you sow.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Olivia knew exactly what her sister meant, but she wasn’t going to give in that easily. Zoe was the consummate Pollyanna when it came to love and romance—despite every bad example their parents’ screwed-up relationship and sham of a marriage had set for them.

  “You know exactly what I mean.” Zoe sighed and looked at Olivia as if she was hopeless. “You draw to you exactly what you put out into the world.”

  Olivia blanched, but now wasn’t the time to get into a philosophical discussion about the realities of love and happily-ever-after. Besides the fact that this was supposed to be a happy occasion celebrating Sophie and Dana’s imminent wedding, her other two sisters were newly married. Zoe was still in the honeymoon phase of her own marriage, having just wed Joaquin Mendoza last year. Rachel was married to Joaquin’s brother Matteo.

  Wait a minute—

  Olivia’s gaze found the tall guy at the bar. Was that the other Mendoza? The single one—what was his name?

  She turned to her sisters. “See that guy over there? Isn’t that your brother-in-law?”

  They turned in unison and looked.

  “Is that Alejandro?” Rachel said.