The Doctor Wore Spurs (2 page)

"I'm sure you'll survive," she said in a dry voice. "No ropes, no chains. If I want your body or your face, it'll be for a media photo op that will get you your new wing."

"Some men might see that as a challenge," he told her.

"I'm glad you're too intelligent for that," she said with far more assurance than she felt. Intelligence was one thing, the male ego another.

The elevator stopped. "We'll see," he said. "But right now you get to meet some of my kids. Hey, Betty," he called to a nurse. "How's TJ?"

"A little down. His mom might not be here until tomorrow morning."

Tyler winced and swore under his breath. "TJ is seven and has six brothers and sisters. His family lives three hours away and his dad has a broken leg, so his mother is doing triple duty right now. He has surgery tomorrow to repair a hole in his heart. This is his room."

"Hey, bud," he said as he entered the room. "What's up?"

TJ was thin, his face drawn and his eyes frightened. Jill's heart immediately went out to him.

"My mom won't be here until late tonight."

"I heard," Tyler said. "I'm sure she'll be here as soon as she can. I need you to rest for surgery tomorrow."

"Will I really be able to play baseball after the operation?"

"No reason from my end. Who knows? After you recover, the majors may be calling you."

TJ smiled.

"Hey, I brought someone to meet you. Her name is Jill Hershey."

"Hershey?" TJ repeated. "Like the candy?"

"Yeah, eye candy," Tyler said and winked at her. "Like the kiss."

"Is she your girlfriend?"

"No," Jill quickly said. "I work at the hospital."

TJ glanced at her street clothes in confusion. "You're not gonna take any more of my blood or give me any more shots, are you?"

"Not me," she assured him. "Dr. Logan tells me you have a lot of brothers and sisters. Are you the oldest?"

TJ shook his head. "I'm in the middle. I had to come early for surgery because one of my sisters got sick and they didn't want me to get sick before the operation."

"Oh," Jill said. "It can be boring in the hospital."

"Yeah."

"Boring?" Tyler repeated indignantly. "Them's fighting words."

"Well, you get to do the interesting stuff like surgery," Jill pointed out.

"And TJ gets to lie around and have people wait on him."

"The food is gross," TJ said.

"What do you like to do at home?" Jill asked.

"After I get my operation, I'm gonna run and run and never stop running," TJ said, his words pulling at Jill's heart. She could tell that was a dream Tyler would make come true. "I read a lot," he said. "My mom reads to all of us every night."

Jill glanced at the stack of books on his bedside stand. "Would you let me read one to you?"

TJ's eyes lit up. "Sure!"

Jill felt Tyler's hand on her shoulder. "You—" His pager went off and he glanced at it. "Another doctor. Probably needs a consult." He looked at her with a mixture of approval and basic male interest that made her heart jump and her brain go
uh-oh.
"I'll be back."

Jill didn't really want to like Tyler, but she was hard-pressed when she looked at TJ and knew he probably dreamed every night of running, and Tyler would make that dream a reality. Good press, she thought, and tried to compartmentalize as she picked up a book from the table.

Jill read several books to TJ, and much later Tyler appeared and removed the book she was currently reading from her hands. He pressed his finger to his lips and pointed at TJ, who was sleeping.

Taking her hand, he led her from the room. "I didn't intend to put you to work tonight."

She let go of his hand and waved hers in a dismissing gesture. "It was a small thing. I didn't mind at all."

He paused, studying her. "I think there's more to you than meets the eye. You look cool, as if you are totally pulled together, as if no one could ruffle your feathers or get to you," he said. "But TJ did. I thought you didn't like kids."

Jill stifled a sigh of frustration. "I never said I didn't like kids. I just said I've been most effective working on projects for adults," she said, then changed the subject. "How was your consult?"

"Two consults, and I checked in on another patient. That's what took me so long. There's one more thing I want you to see," he said, and touched her back to guide her toward the elevator. "One floor up, then I'll take you to dinner."

"Dinner's not necessary," Jill said.

"Sure it is."

"No it isn't."

"Sure it is," he repeated. "Haven't you ever heard you're not supposed to argue with the doctor?"

"Is that one of the bits of fiction they teach you in med school?" she asked sweetly.

Tyler chuckled. "No respect. I get no respect." The doors whisked open. "I can't let you read to her," he said as they rounded a corner, "but I thought you might like to see my youngest patient." They stopped in front of a nursery window, and he pointed to a small baby off to the side. "Meet Annabelle Rogers. She's three months old."

Jill saw the nursery full of isolates with babies wrapped in blankets, and she broke into a cold sweat. The image of another hospital and another nursery swam before her eyes. Tyler was talking, but she couldn't hear him. Instead, she heard another doctor's voice from another time.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Hershey. We could not save your baby."

"Mr. Logan, do you have to do that in the hall?" an anesthesiologist, Bill Johnson, joked as he passed by. "Can't you use the laundry closet like everyone else?"

Comedians. He was surrounded by comedians. "She fainted," he said.

Bill's eyes widened and he stopped. "Well, I guess she picked the right place. Let's get her feet elevated. Oxygen."

"No need," Tyler said, watching Jill's eyes flutter.

"She's pretty. I haven't seen her around. Who is she?"

"PR consultant," Tyler said, moving toward an empty room. "She's helping get the new wing."

"Smart, too. Hey, you want me to carry her?"

Tyler knew Bill was a player with the women. He felt a wave of protection for Jill as he set her down on the bed. "Keep your paws off her. This isn't your specialty. You like to put people to sleep, remember."

"Yes, but I also wake them up," he said, poking out his chest.

"Hey, candy lady, where'd you go?" Tyler asked, and slid his stethoscope against her chest.

Jill blinked. "I don't know. I just saw the—" Her slim eyebrows furrowed slightly and she looked away. "Maybe I was more tired than I thought. I never faint. I have never fainted in my life."

"What did you eat for lunch?"

"A pack of crackers, but—"

Tyler frowned. "You need some food."

"I'll get you a burger," Bill offered, stepping forward. "I'd like a rain check to take you someplace nicer when you're feeling better, but—"

"Not in this century," Tyler said, and sighed. "This is Dr. Bill Johnson. He puts people to sleep for a living."

Bill scowled. "Not women."

"He's worse than I am." He turned to Bill. "She doesn't like flirts, Bill."

"I'm not a flirt," Bill said, his gaze fixed on Jill with the intensity of a hunter. "I am a man. At your service," he added smoothly. "May I get you a burger?"

Tyler thought he might puke.

"Not unless it's a veggie burger," Jill said with a wry smile. "I don't really eat beef."

Tyler and Bill stared at each other, then roared with laughter.

"I missed the joke," Jill said, sitting up.

"Your secret is safe with us, but since you're in PR, you might want to remember you're in Texas," Tyler said. "Beef country."

"You're saying the Texas Rangers might come after me if I eat a veggie burger?"

"More likely the Cattlemen's Association," Bill said.

"Is a grilled cheese okay?"

"Done," Bill said, and gave Tyler a competitor's smile. "And you'd probably rather get a ride home with me, since Tyler drives a motorcycle."

"The fresh air will do her good," Tyler said.

"I can drive myself," Jill said.

"No," Tyler said at the same time Bill did. "Go get her grilled cheese," he growled.

Forty-five minutes later she had eaten and was pacing the floor of his office. She batted his hands away when he lifted his stethoscope. "Leave me alone. I'm ready to go."

"Okay, let's get your coat." He ditched his coat and grabbed his suede jacket.

"I really can drive myself," she said firmly.

"There is no way in hell I'm letting you," he said just as firmly. "And I'm bigger than you are, so just stop arguing."

She made a sound of disgust and stomped out of his office. Tyler's lips twitched. She was a strange combination. She looked so feminine and composed, a little too cool, as if nothing would shake her, but he'd watched her melt with TJ, and she was clearly embarrassed that she'd fainted. She looked as though she should be shaken and stirred, and he wouldn't mind doing the job. He knew she wouldn't take him too seriously, and that made her all the more appealing.

He escorted her to his bike in the parking lot, and she shook her head. "I'm not dressed for this."

Idly noticing the mild temperature and starry night, he pulled a helmet onto his head. "You're fine. You're staying at the Winchester Condominiums, aren't you?"

"Yes, but—"

He stopped her protest by putting a helmet on her head. "It's not far," he said with a grin. "Just hold on tight."

He helped her onto the motorcycle, then slid in front of her. He felt her gingerly put her hands on his back. Tyler pulled her slender hands under his coat and pressed them to his chest. "Trust me," he said. "You'll stay warmer this way."

He felt the inside of her thighs spreading to accommodate his rear end, and a sensual image pulsed through him. Jill, with her silky thighs spreading to accommodate him in a totally different way. He felt a rush of heat and sucked in a breath of air. Then he started the engine.

He drove through the night to her condominium and helped her off the bike. She fumbled with the helmet and he took it off for her. He couldn't explain it, but there was a hint of lost-girl look in her eyes. He'd seen flashes of that same look several times throughout the evening and he wondered what or who had caused it.

"Let me walk you to your door," he said.

"That's not—"

"Don't waste your breath. My mother would never forgive me."

"You can tell her I excused you," Jill said in a long-suffering voice.

Tyler smiled and shook his head. "Not unless we're planning to hold a seance."

Jill whipped her head around to stare at him. "She's dead?"

He nodded.

"I'm sorry. How long?"

"Too long," he said, remembering the woman who had personified gentleness, humor and love in his life. "She died twenty-three years ago when my sister, Martina, was born."

Jill stopped midstep on the sidewalk and placed her hand on his arm. "During childbirth. How terrible for all of you. Your sister, Martina? Did she survive?"

He nodded. "Yeah, and she's pregnant. Not married," he admitted with a sigh. "Whenever my brother and I ask her about the father, and believe me that is often, she insists the stork is responsible."

"Do you worry about her?"

"Yes," he said. "And no. Martina is no fragile flower. She's tough, and she knows if she needs anything, anything at all, she can call Brock or me and we'll come running."

"Lucky lady?" she asked, walking to her doorstep.

"Maybe," he said and cracked a half grin. "She might disagree with that on occasion."

She slid her hand through her hair and met his gaze. "Thank you."

"For catching you when you fell."

She paused a moment, then nodded. "Yes. You were kind. Pushy," she said, her lips tilting in a smile, "but kind."

"Yeah, but my pushy is better than Bill's pushy." She looked bone weary. "What are you going to do now?"

"Turn my sound machine to ocean waves and head for the Mexican Riviera."

"Take your rest. You earned it," Tyler said. "You did some heart mending tonight with TJ."

She shook her head and shrugged. "All I did was read to him."

He lifted his hand to her cheek. "You know it was more. Maybe you weren't heart mending. Heart stealing."

She gave him a sideways glance. "I thought we'd decided you didn't need to flirt with me."

He chuckled, liking the softness of her skin against his fingers. "Your hair is perfect, your clothes classic. You look like a cool, controlled lady who knows exactly how to rule her world. I don't know if I can resist the urge to mess your hair and rock your world."

She dipped her head slightly, and her eyes, well, her eyes dared the devil in him. "Try," she said, and left him staring at her door.

Jill leaned against the door and let the dark quiet of the condo seep into her. It would have been nice to be held right now. It would have been nice to feel strong arms around her and to hear reassuring words. A high-impact visual of Tyler flashed through her mind, and she tried to shake it off. He was tempting. He shouldn't be, but he was.

She remembered the strength of his body during the short ride from the hospital, and the combination of fire and gentleness in his blue eyes. He was the kind of man who never let a woman forget she was a woman and he was a man.

In a weak moment, when her defenses were lowered, she could be susceptible.

She shook her head and pushed away his image. She took a few slow, deep breaths to clear the noise from her mind and waited for the other images she'd run from during the past four years....

Seven months pregnant, she'd been certain she looked like a beached whale, but she'd been too excited to care. Her baby was due in two months, and every kick she felt inside her made her smile. The ultrasound had revealed she was growing a boy; he was so active she'd called him "grasshopper." Her husband of one year was eagerly anticipating their baby, too. The nursery was ready, she'd scheduled a long maternity leave, and she had never felt more complete in her life.

It was winter, and on her way home from work she drove the busy, slippery northern Virginia route with extra caution. When the truck careened over the median, headed directly for her, there was nowhere to go and nothing she could do.

Hours later she had awakened in the hospital. She remembered touching her stomach waiting for the kick of her baby inside her. She remembered how the anesthesia couldn't dull the slice of fear and pain. Grasshopper. She must have cried out. The nurse and doctor came to her side, and she heard the fateful words. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Hershey. We did everything we could, but we couldn't save your baby. He was too young and lost too much blood."

Jill had never felt so empty in her life. She cried like a child. She wanted to run home, to run away from her pain, but she had been too seriously injured, she was told. She had lost too much blood and had almost died, too. There were more than a few moments she'd wished she had died.

Her husband was remote. Jill blamed herself. She suspected her husband blamed her, too. If only she had left five minutes earlier. Or five minutes later. If only.

Jill felt the salty moisture from her eyes stream down her cheeks. She slid her hands down to her flat belly and remembered Grasshopper's kick. The memory and the pain were different than she'd expected, perhaps sweeter because of the passing of time. Jill took a deep breath. Maybe the anticipation had been worse than the reality.

But
fainting?
She swiped her cheeks and rolled her eyes. She hadn't fared well on her first test here in Fort Worth. She smiled wryly thinking, in that case, she had nowhere to go but up.

The following morning Jill took her sound machine and kava tea with her to the hospital. The goal was to surround herself with comfort to encourage creativity and peace.

Trina looked at her, perplexed. "Are you sure you don't want a honey bun and some good strong coffee? Dr. Logan told me to make sure you get plenty of food today."

Jill smiled. "Thank you. I already ate cereal."

"But a midmorning snack—"

"Okay," she said, sensing surrender would work better than protest. "I'll eat a honey bun." Comfort food, she told herself.

Trina sighed in relief. "Good. I don't want Dr. Logan mad at me. Have you ever seen a doctor with a better backside?"

"I can't say I've noticed his backside," Jill said wryly, which wasn't exactly true. She'd been up close and personal with Tyler's legs and backside when she'd ridden home on his motorcycle.

"Well, it's pretty darn terrific," Trina said. "And if he smiles and squints his eyes at the same time, he gets a little dimple right here," she said, pointing to the hollow of her jaw.

Jill tapped her pencil on her desk. If she heard much more about how wonderful Tyler was, she might be too nauseated to finish the honey bun. In Trina's eyes, the man was nearly a god, certainly a hero. That thought stopped her, then her mind tumbled through a half-dozen scenarios.

"I'm bugging you, aren't I?"

"No. You might be helping," Jill said. "I'm just thinking of ways to get the wing." She pinched a piece off the honey bun and put it in her mouth. "Maybe..." She closed her eyes, then opened them and smiled at her idea. "I've got it. An ad campaign featuring Tyler. We could take pictures in his scrubs and in his white jacket and invite people to donate funds to become members of Tyler's heart menders' posse."