Cheers!”
Cole caught a glimpse of his father’s tearing eyes as the man raised his glass and toasted new love along with everyone else, while most likely remembering the loss of his own. His dad had fallen apart when Mom died from cancer. His life had literally stopped, and, though he’d tried to pick up the pieces over the past several years, his health had never been the same. That kind of love scared the hell out of Cole. Was that what Trevor was setting himself up for, too? Another good reason for Cole to stick with his current life trajectory.
Bittersweet moments clogged his throat, and he didn’t have a clue why that tended to happen much more often when back home. He didn’t like it—those deep feelings, the kind that ripped at a person’s heart. Maybe that was why he preferred his hundred-mile buffer zone, living out in Laramie half the time and in Baltimore the other, except whenever he was on the road, which seemed to be close to 80 percent of the time lately.
He took another drink of champagne. Staying put for two months in the house he’d grown up in, seeing the continuing disappointment and blame in his father’s milky, aging eyes, and sensing the lingering love from his mother would prove to be a challenge. How long before he and his father finally had it out?
The old man’s health was failing; he grew weaker by the year yet still insisted on running the ranch. Cole couldn’t very well blast him with accusations and force an apology, could he? Damn, he needed more champagne.
When everyone else was joining in with the celebration, laughing, cheering, making a racket, Cole slipped a little farther back from the crowd. Julie prepared to toss the bouquet, and once she turned her back and threw the flowers over her head, the dozen or so ladies in the group started to squeal. The young blonde from the medical clinic, Rita the receptionist, caught it and screamed with delight. Her glittering eyes flitted toward his, and he quickly looked away, deciding now was the perfect time to refill his glass with bubbly.
Briefly, while on his quest for the server, he engaged Jack, the ranch foreman, in conversation. He felt him out as to how the family business was holding up, assuring Jack he’d be as helpful as possible in Trevor’s absence. In fact, Cole looked forward to getting on a horse again. The rodeo had been his passion in life throughout his childhood and early teens. He’d made a name for himself on the junior circuit, riding bucking broncos, until…
“Incoming!” he heard Jack say.
Cole looked up in time to reach up and pluck a shiny white lace garter out of the air, rather than let it hit him in the face. What the—? He glanced up at his brother’s mischievous dark stare, a smile stretched from ear to ear. Was that a challenge?
“You’re next, Cole,” Trevor said, laughing, knowing full well the absurdity of the remark.
Playing along, only to be polite, Cole mock kissed the garter, then stuck it in his handkerchief pocket. “I’ll keep you posted, Trev, but don’t hold your breath.” He made a shrewd effort to avoid Rita’s coy gaze at all costs.
He got his refill of champagne and finished it with three large gulps, enjoying the floating-in-water feeling in his head.
When he was a kid, he used to think the sky in Wyoming was the limit, and anything was possible on any given day. Wasn’t that why they’d called him Wonder Boy? These days, not so much. Still smiling, since everyone seemed to continue to stare at him, he hoisted yet another glass in another toast. “Cheers!” he said as expected, waggling his brows, as any lucky guy who’d just caught the garter on a glorious wedding day should. Then he took one more drink of champagne, letting that pleasant buffer of booze make everything fuzzy around the edges, and followed the crowd outside for the reception and lunch.
Tomorrow he’d saddle up and ride the range with Jack. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ridden the entire Circle M Ranch or seen the thousands of head of pure English-bred steer roaming the grasslands, and, being honest, he’d missed it. Of course, he’d need a refresher course on the challenges of raising grass-finished cattle for meat. His father’s specialty. Genetics was the key, his old man had always said, and, being a scientist, Cole could easily wrap his brain around that. But all the finer details of animal husbandry he’d leave to Jack.
As for right now, he couldn’t very well zone out on the rest of his brother’s wedding party, so he stood, straightened his tie and headed toward Trevor’s table to tell him not to worry about a thing while he was on his honeymoon. His mother would want it that way.
“Just the man I need to talk to,” Trevor said, eyes brightening as Cole approached his table.
“I thought you’d already told me everything I need to know.” Cole had a sudden sinking feeling.
“I lined up some extra help for you at the clinic while I’m gone.”
Cole wasn’t about to complain about that. “Thanks. Someone from Cattleman Bluff?”
“Boston.”
“What?”
“It’s a complicated story, but, medically speaking, the doctor is qualified. Lawrence Rivers highly recommended her.”
Larry Rivers was a respected professor who’d mentored Trevor during medical school, and he’d become a trusted colleague for Cole when he’d made the decision to learn transcatheter heart-valve replacement. “But?” Cole’s instincts waved yellow flags, waiting for Trevor to come clean with the rest of the story.
“The problem is, she only applied for internal medicine residencies at the top five most competitive hospitals in the country, so she didn’t get a single spot.”
“She’s fresh out of medical school? And that’s supposed to be a help, how?”
“You know Larry wouldn’t recommend her if he didn’t believe in her.”
“Believing in and actually being competent are two different things.” Ah, hell, Cole didn’t want to get in an argument with his brother at his wedding. Mom wouldn’t like that. He’d back off for now.
“She might be a little rough around the edges.”
Are you kidding me? “You’re joking, right? Is this some sort of weird wedding joke?”
“Larry said she’s a tough Boston girl, from the wrong side of the Charles River. She can handle anything.”
“So Larry’s playing both of us, right?”
Trevor bit his lower lip and grimaced. “She needed a job. I said she could have it. You’ll need help at that clinic, trust me.”
“And I want all the help I can get, but—”
“Come on, Trevor,” Julie said, a huge smile on her face, a warning gaze in her eyes. “It’s time to change clothes for the send-off. The limo is going to be here in twenty minutes.”
Trevor lifted his brows, cast a quick glance at Cole, then put his arm around his new wife.
“What’s this doctor’s name?”
“Elisabete Silva.”
Great, he’d be working with a wet-behind-the-ears doctor who probably thought she knew it all. Didn’t he think the same thing when he’d first graduated from medical school?
Trevor
