head. A faint smile tugged at his mouth for a millisecond before it disappeared. “You can start over, Jaclyn. Take your choice of where.” He waved a hand, as if it were simple to start again.
She blinked, surveyed the street then twisted to look at Kent again. If he wanted her to reopen he couldn’t be holding her past against her. Maybe he’d even help her.
“Many of these places look worse than the one I was in.”
“Probably are. Unoccupied buildings deteriorate fast.” He turned away as one of the other firemen came over to speak to him. “She’s okay. She should be checked out at the hospital for smoke inhalation. I removed the glass in her foot.”
“Fire department volunteers aren’t supposed to render that much first aid,” the other fireman reminded, eyes dancing. “At least that’s what you said at our last meeting, Chief. I can see why you did it, though.” He gave Jaclyn a smile that should have made her heart throb.
Jaclyn wanted to tell him to save it for someone who would appreciate it, that she was devoted to her work—except for when Kent McCloy made her pulse race by taking glass out of her foot.
“Generally we don’t. Do first aid, I mean.” Kent’s tanned face turned a shade of burgundy.
“Just couldn’t help yourself this time, huh?” the fireman teased.
“The fire, Pete?” Kent reminded, dark brows lowered.
“Under control. But I’ll take the hint and get back to work.” The other man left smirking.
“What did he mean you couldn’t help yourself? Are you a doctor, Kent?” Jaclyn frowned. “But I met the local doctors. At least, I thought I had.”
“Vet,” Kent corrected with a mocking smile. “I can’t stand to see things hurting, though I usually treat a different species.”
“Oh.” She glanced at her foot. “Well, maybe you should broaden your practice. I’ll be a reference if you like.”
“You want me as competition in town?” His chuckle made her stomach quiver again.
“I’m not sure it would matter much,” Jaclyn mumbled. “I could hardly have fewer patients.” She gulped, regrouped. “It’s good to see you again, Kent. It’s been a long time since we were in high school together. We’ll have to catch up sometime.” She’d been so focused on the clinic she’d met hardly anyone—it would be nice to have a social life.
His beautiful smile disappeared, his face tightening into an unreadable mask.
“Sure.” He looked around as if he wanted to avoid further conversation. “The ambulance is here. You’d better go with them, get your foot checked.” His arm left her waist.
“I’m fine.” Jaclyn studied him as she balanced on her uninjured foot, feeling suddenly bereft. “Have you lived in Hope since high school?”
“No.” Kent’s response didn’t invite further questions. He turned his head, nodding when one of the other firefighters motioned for him to join them. “I have to go.”
“Well, thanks for saving my life.” She waited until he’d taken a few steps away. “Kent?”
“Yes?” He turned back, his impatience to get back to work clearly visible.
“Was anyone else hurt?” She held her breath as she waited for his answer.
“Just you.” He studied her for a moment longer, then grabbed the gear he’d thrown down and strode away looking larger than life.
Not that he needs any help there, she thought noting the badge at the top of his sleeve. “Fire Chief Kent McCloy is already the stuff of heroes. But that doesn’t matter to me,” she said aloud, as if convincing herself. “I have no time for relationships. I’m not back in Hope for a high school reunion.”
So what was with her reaction to him?
“Jaclyn, you’re talking to yourself.” RaeAnn frowned. “How much smoke did you breathe in?”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you aren’t. Your foot is injured. For once, stop trying to be in control.” RaeAnn slid an arm around her waist for support. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”
Maybe they could get her head examined while she was there, Jaclyn mused. She checked over her shoulder one last time and saw Kent motion for another fireman to direct his hose on the back of the now-smoking building that had housed Jaclyn’s clinic. That clinic had been the focus of her dreams for more than ten years. It was the place where she was finally going to earn the life she’d been given. The life Jessica had lost.
Why? That was the question that always haunted her. Why had her twin sister gotten leukemia and not her? In all the years since Jessica’s death, she’d never figured that out.
“Ready?”
Jaclyn shook off her stupor and concentrated on getting into RaeAnn’s car while her assistant retrieved her shoes. It must have been smoke addling her brain that made her notice Kent’s broad shoulders again because Dr. Jaclyn LaForge was not interested in men—especially not Kent McCloy, no matter how good he looked in his gear.
Guys like Kent, even though they’re gorgeous, have no effect on me, she thought as she sat alone in a treatment room, waiting to be examined by a colleague. But all the denials in the world couldn’t disguise the way her heartbeat had raced when Kent had touched her.
How was it that the only guy she’d ever had a crush on in high school—the guy who’d stuck by her when everyone else had turned against her after Jessica’s death—still had the power to make her shiver?
Didn’t matter. Overpowering reactions notwithstanding, Jaclyn had no time for personal relationships. She had a duty to her twin sister to get the clinic up and running again. Despite losing the building, she would find a way to do it—no matter what.
* * *
Kent left the fire hall late in the afternoon after learning the fire was the result of an overtaxed electrical outlet. Thankfully no one had been seriously hurt. But the incident reinforced his long-held belief that it was time to get an emergency procedure plan in place in town.
He took his time driving home, surveying the land in its burgeoning spring glory. The last rays of sun sank below the craggy tips of New Mexico’s mountains, bathing the world in a rosy glow as he drove into his driveway. It should have made him feel peaceful. But the usual post-fire adrenaline surge had left Kent antsy. He walked around the yard and thought about the town’s new pediatrician.
Kent had forgotten a lot of things about Jaclyn LaForge since their days in high school—that silver blond hair of hers, for one thing. Then she’d worn it long; now her short, precise blunt-cut caressed a chin that said she was all business. The silky strands cupped her face, drawing attention to her delicate cheekbones and big brown eyes framed by long lush lashes. How could he have forgotten those lashes?
The pediatrician oozed class, from her red silk suit to her spicy perfume. Jaclyn, the rebel teen whom he’d known so well had been totally erased.
In
