The Surgeon and the Cowgirl. Heidi Hormel

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The Surgeon and the Cowgirl - Heidi Hormel Mills & Boon American Romance

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him again. “Fine. I’ll let her give me a kiss if Miss Jessie gives me a kiss, too.”

      He knew it was a challenge. One he was sure that Jessie would decline. Instead, she snapped, “No problem.” Her surprisingly soft lips curled into an evil grin.

      Payson leaned over so the pony could touch her lips to his cheek. The smell of oats and molasses wafted over him as the little animal chuffed a breath across his face. He pulled back quickly. Jessie grinned. He reached up his hand to check his face. Slimy pony slobber. He strode forward before Jessie could move and wiped his cheek on hers. She laughed, and he covered her mouth with his to wipe that smirk off her face. Their lips met, and hers parted and softened. Damn. His hand moved down her back, and he pulled her close.

      “Dr. Mac, Dr. Mac, I want to go now.”

      Saved by the kid, Payson thought. No way he resented that. He and Jessie were over long ago. Having his heart ripped out once was more than enough. “Sure, Alex. Let’s go.” He easily swung the boy up into his arms and carried him to his mother’s car.

      He knew what—if he went with his knee-jerk reaction—he’d tell the hospital administration about the program: therapy riding posed an imminent danger to patients. He’d seen a youngster miss being trampled by inches. He would not talk about what had happened to his brain when he saw Jessie go into that corral. Time had stopped. That usually only happened during surgery, when everything went away except the small field of skin exposed by draped hospital fabric. When the seconds stretched out, making each of his movements deliberate and slow. Often after surgery, he was surprised by the amount of time that had passed.

      “He’s going to be okay, right?” Jessie asked as they watched the boy and his mom drive away.

      “Yes,” he said tightly, not willing to argue with her about safety right now. “What about you? What’s up with your knee?”

      “Nothing.” She shifted, and the silence stretched between them, tense and heated. “I want to invite you to come back another day. Alex is doing really well out here. In fact, so well that he’s starting to misbehave because he has the strength and confidence.”

      Jessie’s gaze didn’t waver as she looked at him. Double damn. It was as hard saying no to her as to Alex, which was exactly why he’d been reluctant to evaluate this program. On the other hand, when the administration “asked” a doctor to do something, it was never good for his career to refuse. Now that he was involved, he needed to step back and act like the scientist he was. Could he formulate any conclusions after only one visit? He really hadn’t had a chance to assess the program before Alex’s great escape. Spending more time with Jessie and her program was strictly in the interest of research.

      “My schedule is full for the next week,” he said in his professional voice. “Call me at the hospital and talk with my office manager. Maybe she can find time in two or three weeks.”

      Payson watched Jessie’s face change from resolute to angry. “Two or three weeks? This is important, Payson.”

      “I know, but so are my patients. I have operations back-to-back, and then clinic and—”

      “You don’t have to tell me. I know.”

      He could see she was both upset and disappointed. “Before I go, I want to check that knee.”

      “I’m fine.”

      “Who’s the doctor here?” It was a familiar argument and one that could almost make him smile. They had teased each other often like that early in their marriage, until those teasing comments had become angry barbs. He stepped toward her, and she didn’t back up. He could smell Jessie’s seductive scent, a mix of hay, desert mesquite and Ivory soap. He’d discovered on their third or fourth date that just a brief whiff aroused him. If he’d thought the kiss had gotten him hot, it was nothing compared to her fragrance. He looked at her and saw a flush on her face that wasn’t from the sun.

      He made himself step back. They were divorced. “You should use ice followed by heat. Take a double dose of ibuprofen today and tomorrow morning and that should keep the swelling down and help with the pain.”

      “Thanks, Doc,” she said. “I’ll call the office.”

      “You do that. I’ve got to go.”

      She put her hand on his arm to stop him from turning. “He really is a great kid, Payson. He’s been doing so well. At first he was weak and scared, but now he’s walking more often and his balance is thirty percent improved. The therapy works.”

      “I said I’d come back,” he answered, not wanting to argue with her, rail at her that he’d also seen Alex almost get trampled to death. He’d learned a few things in their years apart, including how to keep his temper in check. What he hadn’t learned was how to erase the memory of her curled against him when they were alone and in their big old-fashioned sleigh bed—the bed he still slept in. There were nights when the dreams were so real he’d wake up and reach for her. When he felt the coolness of the empty sheets, he wanted to cry or punch the wall.

      He needed to sell that bed.

       Chapter Two

      Jessie glared at Payson, who was sitting across from her three weeks after his disastrous visit in his version of cowboy casual—a pressed and starched shirt tucked into equally stiff, dark denims. It was wrong to iron jeans, as she had told him more than once, and it was wrong for her to think he looked sexy.

      They were in her small office that was crammed into the corner of one of the barns. Usually the scents of hay and horse kept her calm and focused. Not today. Three years divorced, and he could still make her mad enough to see red. What did she tell the kids to do when they were angry? Walk away. Well, she didn’t have a choice about that this time. Payson had just announced that if she wanted the hospital to endorse her program, then he was sticking around.

      “Your neck is red and not from the sun,” he said softly, his mouth curling a little as his coffee-colored eyes gleamed with a wry humor. “Are you upset?”

      She waited for him to laugh. One snort. One chortle and she was taking him down. She regularly wrestled with a half ton of horse. “I am surprised. A barn is the last place I expected you to want to hang out,” she said.

      “Times change.”

      “You mean it’s snowing in hell.”

      “I would think you’d watch your language with all of these children around.”

      She didn’t want to fight with him, but he definitely knew which buttons to push. “Do you have any ideas on how you would like to carry out your observations?”

      “You mean besides stand and watch?” he asked and grinned.

      She worked not to smile back at that smart-ass answer. Those sorts of comments had gotten him into trouble on a regular basis when they were younger. Of course, there were times when the verbal battle that followed such remarks would lead directly to a horizontal two-step, but she was not going there today...or any other day, she told her racing heart. She calmly said, “We’re using the indoor ring. That would probably be the best place to start.”

      Payson had told her that he

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