Her Kind Of Doctor. Stella Bagwell

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Her Kind Of Doctor - Stella Bagwell Men of the West

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the small of her back and rolled her shoulders in an effort to ease the taut muscles. “You could tack a half century to Luke Sherman’s age and he still wouldn’t be good-humored.”

      Gideon didn’t say anything to that and Paige was glad. She was tired of thinking about the doctor and even wearier of talking about him.

      After picking up her tote, she stroked a hand over Samson’s head, then made her way to the door. “I’m going to have a bite of breakfast,” she said. “Before I tend to the chickens and goats. If you go out on the tractor tell me.”

      “Yes, little hen.”

      Inside the house, Paige walked to her bedroom and changed out of her scrubs and into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Once she was dressed, she pattered barefoot over the old linoleum as she made her way to a small kitchen located at the back of the house. Along the way, she pulled the pins from the heavy swathe of long hair fastened to the back of her head, then shook it free.

      Since the cool of the morning still lingered, the air conditioner was off and a few of the windows stood open to the breeze. Normally this was Paige’s favorite time of the day, but her quarrel with Luke Sherman had taken the joy right out of her. Just another sign she needed to get away from the man, she thought dourly.

      When she stepped into the kitchen, Gideon was already there at the cookstove, placing strips of bacon into a black frying pan.

      “What are you doing?” she asked, frowning. “Samson doesn’t need any more bacon today.”

      “This isn’t for Samson. It’s for you. Bacon, eggs and toast. Get yourself a cup of coffee and sit down while I get it cooked.”

      “Grandfather, I’m a hospital nurse. Not a patient. You don’t need to take care of me.”

      “Maybe I want to take care of you. Ever think about that? Besides, I figure you’ve already done enough arguing for one morning. No need to do more of it with me.”

      Sighing, Paige crossed to a white metal cabinet and pulled a mug from the shelf. As she picked up a granite percolator from the stove and tilted it over the cup, she couldn’t help but wonder if Luke Sherman was home by now. Would he be eating breakfast alone? It was a known fact he wasn’t married, but he could have a special woman who hung her robe on his bathroom door. Maybe the two of them were having breakfast together, or even worse, talking about the confrontation he’d had with Paige.

      Don’t be stupid, Paige. Once Luke Sherman leaves the hospital he wouldn’t waste one minute thinking about you. To him you’re just a flunky who’s paid to do his bidding. Nothing more. Nothing less. Forget about the man. Forget about the ER.

      “Paige! Have you lost your hearing?”

      Realizing Gideon was practically shouting at her, she mentally shook away the dismal thoughts and glanced over her shoulder.

      “Sorry, Grandfather. I didn’t hear you. What were you saying?”

      He scowled at her. “I was asking if you wanted green chilies on your eggs.”

      “No. I want habanero sauce.” Hopefully the fire on her tongue would burn any thoughts of Luke Sherman right out of her mind.

      * * *

      Twenty miles west of Carson City, on the south rim of Lake Tahoe, Luke Sherman sat on a redwood pier, staring out at a flock of birds skimming the waves of the deep blue water and soaring high above the giant evergreens shading the shoreline of the private cove. It was a beautiful July morning with the sun shining brightly in an azure-blue sky and a gentle breeze singing through the pines behind him.

      During the summer months, he always made it a habit to drink his morning coffee here on the pier, where the beauty and solitude helped him unwind from the rigors of the ER. But this morning, Luke was far from relaxed. The image of Paige Winters’s face continued to float in front of his eyes, blocking out the magnificent view of prime Nevada real estate.

      Damn it! What in the world had come over her? Of all the nurses he’d worked with during his ten years as an MD, Paige was definitely the most capable. If anything rattled her, it never showed in the smooth, efficient way she administered care to the influx of ER patients. Before this morning, he’d never once seen a glimmer of a tear in her eyes.

      He didn’t know what had caused the waterworks. And he damn well didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to him was that his best nurse remain focused and ready for whatever emergency came through the door.

      Luke unconsciously gripped the insulated coffee mug even tighter as the image of Paige’s clear gray eyes swimming in tears replayed itself in his mind. She would never know, or possibly guess, how much it had hurt him to see her crying. He could hardly believe it himself.

      You didn’t have to cut into her the way you did, Luke. You were a jerk. A bastard, she called you. And she was right. You don’t deserve to have a nurse like Paige working at your side.

      Cursing under his breath, he rose from the Adirondack chair and walked to the edge of the long, planked pier. As he stared down at the deep blue water, he shoved mightily at the accusing voice in his head.

      It was possible he’d overreacted, he contemplated. And he might have tendered his words in a gentler manner. But he’d never had to handle Paige with kid gloves. She was tough. She could take anything he dished out. On top of that, he’d been right in confronting her and right in sending her out of the ER. He wasn’t going to allow anyone, even Nurse Winters, to jeopardize a patient’s life. So why did he feel so miserable?

      Maybe because Paige Winters is the only person you care about being around. Because without her, your job at Tahoe General would mean far, far less. Face it, Luke, for a long time now you’ve thought of the two of you as a team. Now you’re wondering if you might’ve torn your team apart.

      Releasing a heavy sigh, Luke left the pier and began the steep climb up to the massive split-level house he called home.

      Built of native rock and rough cedar, it was perched on a rocky shelf that overlooked a finger of the lake. Nestled among a stand of huge ponderosa pine, the solid structure was always shaded from the blistering sun in the summer season and partially guarded from high drifts of snow in the winter. Built onto the back of the house, a wide stone terrace was furnished with comfortable lawn furniture and an outdoor bar and grill. Potted plants, carefully tended by a gardener, were strategically placed to make the sitting area feel like an extension of the yard.

      Even to his jaded eye, the place was incredibly beautiful, yet in the past four years he’d lived here, it had never felt like home.

      Hell. No place would ever feel like home to him again, Luke thought. Even if he went back to West Virginia and walked into the tiny house where he’d grown up, where his parents had lived until the day they’d died, it wouldn’t be the same. Too much had happened. Too many things had been ripped away from him. Now he viewed everything with stark reality. Home was just a fanciful ideal and a house was simply a place to eat, sleep and take shelter from the elements. As for family—well, they were just something a person eventually lost.

      * * *

      Later that night, as Luke began his evening shift, it was glaringly obvious that Paige wasn’t present and the remaining nurses in the ER were tiptoeing around him as though he had a communicable disease.

      With a steady stream of patients pouring

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