Never Been Kissed. Linda Turner

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“We’re on our way.”

      They may have been volunteers, but they, like the rest of the local residents who worked the station on a regular basis, prided themselves on always being ready for whatever emergency cropped up. And this time was no exception. The ambulance was stocked with everything they needed, and by the time Janey ended the call a few seconds later, the rest of the team was already in the cab of the vehicle and waiting for her. She quickly jumped in next to Wanda, who sat in the middle, and was still reaching for her seat belt when Scott pulled out of the garage of the volunteer fire department with sirens blazing. Seconds later they turned north on the Eagle Ridge Highway and left town far behind.

      If it hadn’t been for the flares Nick had set out marking the spot of the accident, they might have driven right past without even noticing it. In the dark it was impossible to see the wrecked car at the bottom of the ravine that ran parallel with the highway.

      Nick had, however, managed to get his patrol car down there, and Scott carefully followed his path in the ambulance. “Ouch,” he said when the vehicle’s headlights landed on the smashed SUV. A foreign make that obviously didn’t stand up well to crash tests, it was banged in on all sides and nearly as flat as a pancake.

      “It looks like a tin can that’s been run over by a semi,” Wanda said.

      Janey had to agree. “I don’t know how anyone made it out alive.”

      As it was, the two survivors weren’t in the best of shape. The driver was bleeding and unconscious, while his girlfriend was suffering from a broken leg and arm and going into shock. Janey and her team took one look at them and went right to work. They knew the routine, and although Janey was the only one who actually worked in the medical field, both Scott and Wanda had had extensive training in emergency medical care. They didn’t need instructions to know what to do.

      Within minutes the girlfriend’s broken bones were immobilized, and she was given fluids to help counteract the shock. Her boyfriend wasn’t so lucky. He’d regained consciousness, but his pulse was thready, his blood pressure falling, and Janey was sure he was bleeding internally. They didn’t have a lot of time to waste. Hurriedly easing both victims onto stretchers, they quickly loaded them into the ambulance, then raced back to town.

      Scott radioed the hospital with a report of the victims’ condition and their estimated time of arrival, but Janey hardly noticed. With all her attention focused on her patient and his rapidly falling blood pressure, she never even noticed that they made it back to the hospital in record time. Suddenly the back doors of the ambulance flew open, and there were hands to unload both patients and rush them inside.

      In the organized chaos that was the emergency room, the driver and his girlfriend were taken to separate cubicles and quickly examined. Vital signs were hurriedly taken and called out, and in the madness, Janey heard a nurse working on the girlfriend tell someone to call for X rays and Dr. Easton, the only orthopedic surgeon in town. But it was the driver that Janey was worried about. He’d slipped back into unconsciousness again. If he didn’t get into surgery soon, they were going to lose him.

      Hurriedly she helped cut away his clothes and hook him up to a heart monitor. During the entire procedure she never took her eyes off his still figure. “Where’s Dr. Michaels? Has anybody paged him? Somebody send an orderly for him—”

      “There’s no need to send an orderly,” a cool, husky voice cut in smoothly. “I’m taking over for Dr. Michaels tonight.”

      Startled, Janey looked up from the patient, directly into the deep-blue eyes of the stranded California motorist she’d stopped to help the day before yesterday when his BMW broke down on the side of the road. She’d only seen him that once, and then only for a few minutes, but she would have known those eyes of his in the far reaches of Mongolia. As dark as the sky before a winter storm, they were tinged with a sadness that touched her heart.

      She’d never been able to stand to see anyone in pain and wanted to ask who or what had put that look in his eyes, but he had a reserve about him that didn’t encourage questions. Then, with a blink, recognition flared and his only expression was surprise.

      It was her—the woman who’d stopped to help him his first day in town. He’d thought she was some rancher’s wife—she’d had the look of one, driving a Jeep and wearing jeans and cowboy boots that were scarred from use—but here she was in an EMT’s uniform and right at home in the emergency. Who the hell was she?

      If a patient hadn’t lay there bleeding to death right in front of him, he would have asked. As it was, all he could do was growl, “Let’s get this man to surgery,” and quickly help push the stretcher down the hall to the surgical wing of the small two-story hospital.

      She didn’t accompany him and the other nurses, but stayed behind in the E.R. Watching him disappear behind the double doors that led to surgery, she frowned, questions swirling like a swarm of bees in her head. Who was he? There was no question that he was a doctor—she only had to see him in action in the E.R. to know that—but what was a doctor from California doing in Liberty Hill, for heaven’s sake? She’d just thought he was a traveler passing through town who’d made a wrong turn.

      “Isn’t he the best-looking man you’ve ever seen in your life?” a dreamy voice sighed beside her. “It’s the eyes, you know. So sad and lonely. I’ll bet he needs a good woman.”

      Turning to face the head nurse of the E.R., Janey tried not to flinch. Tanya had never been one of her favorite people—she was too bold and wild, and since her recent divorce, she’d become even more so. She’d already come on to every eligible man in town, not to mention a few married ones, since she’d walked out on her husband. Considering that, Janey wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if she’d set her sights on the new doctor without bothering to ask—or care—if he was married or not.

      “I wouldn’t know,” Janey said quietly. “Who is he?”

      “Dr. Reilly Jones,” Tanya replied, savoring the name as if it was some new tasty treat. “He just joined Dr. Michaels’s practice today.”

      Shocked, Janey couldn’t believe she’d heard correctly. “Dan never said anything about taking on a partner. What’s going on?”

      “I wish I knew,” Tanya said with one last longing look at the doors Reilly disappeared behind. “The word going around the hospital is Dr. Michaels is retiring and Reilly Jones is taking over his practice for him. Nobody knows who he is, though, or what his story is. I almost asked, but then I thought it’d be better not to push my luck. He seems to be a very private man, so I figured I’d give him some time to get comfortable here, then make my move.”

      Janey didn’t care about Reilly Jones—if he was stupid enough to be taken in by Tanya, than he was dumber than she thought he was. No, it was Dan she was concerned about. He and his wife, Peggy, had been her parents’ best friends, then when Peggy and Janey’s father had both died, Dan and her mother had continued their friendship over the years. He was like a member of the family, and if he was retiring without telling anyone, something had to be horribly wrong.

      Afraid he might be sick or something, Janey almost woke her mother to find out what was going on, later that evening when her shift was over and she went home, but she didn’t want to scare her. So she spent what was left of the night worrying about Dan and barely slept. Up by five-thirty and scheduled to report to work at her regular job at the nursing home by seven, she hurried downstairs just as soon as she was dressed.

      As usual her mother, Sara, was already up and in the kitchen making breakfast. Seeing her at the old O’Keefe

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