The Surgeon's Christmas Baby. Marin Thomas
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Hannah didn’t completely understand the attraction—they had nothing in common. He was city. She was country. He was college educated. She wasn’t. He saved lives. She was just trying to save her brother. He led an exciting life. She didn’t. But none of that had mattered last night.
All good things had to come to an end, and even though she’d rather spend the day in the loft with Alonso, she had chores to do. She dressed, then hurried from the barn. When she entered the house, the smell of frying bacon greeted her nose. Alonso stood in front of the stove, stirring a mountain of scrambled eggs in her cast-iron skillet. Their gazes clashed, then his brown eyes roamed over her disheveled state and his lips curved in a smile.
“You have a piece of hay stuck in your hair.”
She brushed her snarly tresses out of her eyes and searched for something to say.
“I didn’t want to wake Luke to take a shower in his bathroom,” he said. “So I used yours.”
“I’ll be right down.” She raced upstairs, took a quick shower, then changed clothes. On her way back to the kitchen she stopped outside Luke’s door and knocked. She waited for his usual “go away,” but this morning she got no response. She opened the door and poked her head inside the room. His bed was still made and his cell phone sat on the dresser. Where had he gone? Better yet, how long had he been gone?
“Did you see Luke this morning?” she asked when she returned to the kitchen.
“Isn’t he sleeping?” Alonso divided the eggs between three plates.
“No. It doesn’t look as if he slept in his bed.” Guilt tore through Hannah. If she hadn’t been wrapped up in Alonso last night—literally—she’d have gone into the house and checked on Luke when they’d returned from Maloney’s.
“Have you tried his cell phone?”
“He left it on the dresser.” A ploy Luke used when he didn’t want Hannah knowing where he was. “I bet a friend picked him up last night.” She doubted it had been Connor, which left one other suspect—Ben Nichols.
“Have you checked your phone for messages?” Alonso asked.
“Good idea.” She took her cell from her purse and entered the pass code, then breathed a sigh of relief. “Someone left a voice mail.” As she listened to the recording, her legs grew weak and she sank into the chair at the table.
“Hannah, this is Sheriff Miller. Come into the station when you get this. I have Luke here.”
Dear God, what kind of trouble had her brother got into this time? She’d warned him to straighten up, but had he listened to her? No. She set the phone down. “That was Sheriff Miller.”
Alonso’s eyebrows lifted.
“Luke’s at the jail.”
Alonso moved behind her chair and massaged her shoulders. The tender act brought a lump to her throat. “Is he okay?”
“I assume so, or Sheriff Miller would have said something.” If only Alonso’s gentle touch could wash away her fears. Fear that she was failing Luke. She wanted so badly for her brother to succeed—why was he rebelling?
“Did the sheriff say what happened?”
“No, but I’ll find out soon.” The eggs on the plate in front of her began to blur.
Alonso knelt next to her chair and tipped her chin until she looked him in the eye. “If you want, I’ll go with you to see the sheriff.”
Her gaze shifted to his duffel bag by the door. She was dragging Alonso into her problems again, but she was so tired of handling Luke on her own. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“Let’s go.” He dumped the eggs back into the skillet, then slid the pan into the fridge.
Alonso drove and Hannah sat in the passenger seat, trying not to worry—fat chance. All she’d done the past two years was worry. If she hadn’t let her ego get the best of her last night, they’d have stayed home and eaten chili and Luke wouldn’t have been able to sneak out of the house.
Alonso parked in front of the jail and they went inside. Sandy—part-time secretary and part-time dispatcher—sat at her desk talking on the phone. She pointed to the sheriff’s door, then cupped her hand over the mouthpiece. “He’s expecting you.”
When Hannah and Alonso entered the office, the sheriff set aside a file he’d been reading and stood. “Hannah.” He eyed Alonso. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you around town before.”
Alonso shook hands with the lawman. “Alonso Marquez.”
The sheriff’s gaze swung to Hannah, and when she didn’t offer an explanation for Alonso’s presence, he said, “Have a seat.” He cleared his throat. “Luke’s in hot water.”
Hannah swallowed hard and prayed her fear that she wouldn’t always be able to save Luke’s butt hadn’t finally come true. “What did he do?”
“He didn’t commit the crime but he was with the troublemakers who did.”
“Crime?” The word squeaked past Hannah’s lips.
“The convenience store was robbed at 2:00 a.m. this morning. Luke sat in the car while the other two boys held the clerk up at gunpoint.”
Hannah gasped. She’d been prepared for petty theft or even slashing someone’s tires, but not armed robbery. “What are the names of the boys?” And why weren’t their parents here?
“The gun belonged to Kenny Potter. He and his buddy T. J. Templeton are both from Cañon City. High school dropouts with rap sheets a mile long.”
She’d never met the boys and Luke had never mentioned their names, but she had a feeling they were responsible for her brother suddenly wanting to quit school. “Was anyone hurt?”
The sheriff shook his head. “Maybe it’s time to call in social services, Hannah. I know you’re trying your best, but Luke may be too much for you to handle alone.”
No way would she allow her brother to be put in a group home or sent to live with a stranger.
“I had planned to phone you tomorrow to discuss another situation that came up with him, but now is as good a time as any.”
Hannah braced herself for more bad news.
“Matt Connelly stopped by my office to chat on Friday.”
Hannah looked at Alonso. “Mr. Connelly is the principal at the high school.”
“Luke skipped classes again on Friday,” the sheriff said.
She