seldom mesmerized by anything, Dan’s companion had managed to completely captivate him, even at this distance.
Now, that is one gorgeous woman, Brett couldn’t help thinking.
“Because, little brother,” he said aloud, “I think I’ve just seen the woman of my dreams.”
That managed to get Liam’s attention. His guitar temporarily forgotten, Liam looked up at his oldest brother then turned to see what Brett was talking about.
At that point, the young woman who had so completely caught Brett’s fancy had disappeared from view. Her presence was replaced by another female who was passing by. Mildred Haggerty.
Liam’s jaw slackened and dropped as he turned back to look at his brother.
“Mrs. Haggerty is the woman of your dreams?” he asked incredulously. “Have you had your eyes checked lately? Better yet, have you had your head checked lately?” Liam asked.
Mildred Haggerty was as tall as she was wide, had an overbearing personality with an unabashed drive to dominate everyone she came in contact with. A woman of some independent means, in her lifetime, she had buried three husbands. Rumor had it that they had all died willingly in order to permanently get away from the source of their misery, Mildred.
Brett looked at Liam as if the latter was the one who had lost his mind. But before Brett could remark on it, the front door began to creak, announcing that someone was disregarding the hours that were posted outside and coming into Murphy’s. In general, Brett was rather flexible about adhering to the hours carved into the sign, enforcing them when the whim hit him. He was not above welcoming the lone, stray customer before hours.
Thinking that Mrs. Haggerty was the one entering—possibly trolling for husband number four—Liam took it upon himself to loudly announce, “We’re not really open for business yet.”
“How about pleasure?” Dr. Dan Davenport asked as he held the door open for the reason he had come to Murphy’s in the first place. The young woman accompanying him walked into the saloon, squinting slightly as her eyes became accustomed to the darkened interior. “Are you open for pleasure?” Dan asked, a broad grin on his lips.
All in all, the physician looked like a man who had just caught hold of a lifeline, one he hadn’t really expected to materialize, Brett thought.
His green eyes slowly traveled over the length of the woman who’d been ushered in by the town’s only doctor. Brett took in her long, straight blond hair, her fair complexion and her almost hypnotically blue eyes.
If possible, the woman looked even better close-up than she did at a distance.
“Pleasure it is,” Brett acknowledged, wondering who this woman was and, more important, if she was staying in town for an extended visit. Was she a friend of the doctor’s, or perhaps a friend of Dan’s wife, Tina, neither of whom were actual natives of the town?
Dan inclined his head, picking up Brett’s answer. “Then it’s my sincere pleasure to introduce you two to the lady who answered my ad—and my prayers.” For his part, Dan resembled a little boy who had woken up on Christmas morning to discover that everything he had asked for was right there, beneath the Christmas tree.
“You advertised for an angel?” Brett asked, putting his own interpretation to Dan’s introduction.
Alisha Cordell had always had sharp eyes that missed very little. She narrowed them now as she looked at the man behind the bar.
This dark-haired, green-eyed bartender fancied himself a charmer, a smooth talker, she thought with an accompanying degree of contempt. The contempt rose to the surface as a matter of course. After Pierce, she’d had more than her fill of good-looking men who felt they were God’s gift to women. Her conclusion had been that the better-looking they were, the worse they were.
“Dr. Davenport advertised for a doctor,” she informed the would-be Romeo massaging the counter in no uncertain terms.
The look she gave the man just stopped short of being contemptuous. If this two-bit cowboy thought she would instantly become smitten with him because he was clearly handsome and capable of spouting trite compliments, he was going to be very sorely disappointed, Alisha silently predicted. She hoped the rest of the men in town weren’t like this.
And if she was going to be staying in this dusty little burg, even for a little while, this cowboy—and anyone else who might share the same stereotypical mind-set—needed to be put in his—and their—place, as well as on notice that she wasn’t here to indulge their fantasies. The only reason she was here and would even entertain the idea of remaining here was to help Dr. Davenport heal their wounds and take care of their ills.
Nothing else.
Brett detected the flicker of fire in her eyes, and his grin widened. “Well, I think I’m getting feverish, so I just might wind up being your very first patient,” he told what was hopefully Forever’s newest resident.
Alisha took a certain amount of pleasure shooting the sexy bartender down.
“I’m just here to observe for the first few days, so I’m afraid that Dr. Davenport would be the one who’ll have to treat your fever,” she informed him crisply.
Dan cleared his throat and launched into introductions. “Brett and Liam Murphy,” he said, waving a hand at first one, then the other of the brothers as he said their names for Alisha’s benefit, “I’d like you both to meet Dr. Alisha Cordell. Dr. Cordell,” he went on, reciprocating the introduction, “Brett and Liam. They’re two-thirds of the owners of Murphy’s, Forever’s only saloon.”
Brett inclined his head. “Pleased to have you in Forever,” he told her. His voice became only a tad more serious as he said to her, “The doc here could really use the help.”
“I’m sure,” Alisha replied, sounding exceedingly formal.
She hadn’t wanted to be impolite to the doctor, but she’d tried to tell him that this tour of the town and its residents was really unnecessary. She’d come here to practice medicine, to answer the call for a physician, not concern herself with socializing. After the fiasco with Pierce, she’d had more than enough of socializing to last her for a very long time.
Possibly forever. The irony of that thought was not lost on her.
But since she was here, Alisha thought with resignation, she might as well pretend she was taking the scenery—and its people—in.
Alisha scanned the saloon slowly. The place had an exceedingly rustic look to it, as if the building had been here for at least the past seven or eight decades, if not longer.
Was this the extent of the diversion that the town had to offer? she wondered in disbelief.
“And this is where people come for a night out?” she asked, not bothering to hide the incredulous note in her voice.
“Dr. Cordell is from New York,” Dan felt obligated to tell the two men. It wasn’t an apology so much as an explanation for the obvious disbelief in the young woman’s voice.
He’d come from New York himself, although at this point, it felt as if that had been a hundred years ago instead of just four. At the time, it hadn’t even been a sense of altruism that had brought him here. Guilt had
