Dancing in the Moonlight (7 page)

“Come. Sit.”

She followed him onto the porch and took one of the two comfortable rockers that had been there as long as she could remember. She could vividly remember playing on the little postage-stamp front yard while her uncle and father sat on this front porch drinking beer and shooting the breeze.

Guillermo joined her in a moment and set a tray with a couple of Pepsis and some pretzels on a little table between the rockers.

She sipped at her drink, enjoying the unobstructed view of the mountains he enjoyed here.

Her uncle didn’t seem in any hurry to determine the reason for her visit, though surely he must have his suspicions. Instead, they made small talk about her drive up from Arizona, about how her car was running, about the litter of puppies he was just about ready to wean.

Finally she gathered her nerve and blurted out the topic she knew had to be on both their minds.

“Guillermo, what’s going on? Why aren’t you at the Luna?”

He scratched his cheek, where the day’s salt-and-pepper stubble already showed. “Did your mother send you?”

“No,” she confessed. “She told me not to come.”

“When will you learn to listen to your mama, little girl?”

“I can’t believe that whatever happened between you two can’t be mended. Think of the history you share! You’ve been running the Luna for years. You have a financial and emotional stake in it. It’s as much yours as Mama’s and you both know it.”

He said nothing, just sipped his cola and watched a car drive past, and she wanted to scream with frustration.

For two mature adults, both her mother and her uncle were acting like children having a playground brawl, and for the life of her, she couldn’t understand it.

“
Tío!
What is this about? Tell me that much at least. Mama won’t say anything. She just said you fought and she fired you.”

His dark gaze narrowed over the rim of his soda. “She did not fire me. I quit.”

“What difference does it make who did what? She’s still over her head trying to run the ranch by herself.”

A frown flitted across his weathered, handsome features. “She did not find someone to help her yet?”

Just me.
She wanted to say.
Me and a sexy, interfering doctor who should mind his own blasted business.

Instead she only shook her head. “She hasn’t hired anybody yet. She’s got an ad in the paper and a couple of ag job Web sites, but she hasn’t had any takers.”

“She will find someone. The Luna is a good operation.”

“It’s a good operation because you built it into one!
You’re the one who brought in the Murray Grey’s, who watched the market enough to know when the time would be right for their marbled beef. We all know that. Mama’s just being stubborn.”

“She is good at that, no?” Though his words were hard, Maggie thought she saw something odd flicker in his eyes at the mention of her mother.

“I’d say the two of you are about even in that department. Isn’t there anything I can say to change your mind?”

“Not on this,” he said firmly. “I am not welcome at the Luna now even if I wanted to return, and that is as it should be.”

“Tío!”

“No, Lena. I have taken a new job now.”

“So I hear. I can’t believe it, though. You said you’d never work for one of the Hollywood invaders who are taking over all the good ranch land.”

“Things change. Mr. Hartford at least wants to raise cattle and not bison.”

She opened her mouth to argue again, but he held up a hand. “Enough, Lena. Your mother has made her choice. And I have made mine.”

Choice about what? she wondered, but before she could ask, her uncle quickly changed the subject, asking about her time in Afghanistan before her injury, how her leg was doing, what her plans were now that she’d returned to Pine Gulch.

Though she tried several times to draw the conversation back to the Luna and her mother, each time Guillermo neatly sidestepped her question until she finally threw up her hands.

“Okay, I’ve had it with both of you. You both want to throw away a good team, years of history, go right ahead.”

Her words seemed to distress her uncle, but he didn’t argue with her.

She stayed for another half hour then took her leave.

Guillermo hugged her tightly after he had walked her to her car. “You are a good girl, Lena. Take care of your mother and yourself. But don’t forget your old
tío
.”

“I won’t,” she assured him.

“What is between your mother and myself, that is one thing. But you are always welcome on my porch.”

She smiled, kissed his leathery cheek, then climbed carefully into her Subaru and drove away.

He had to admit, he had thought she would bail on him.

Four days later Jake stood at the reception area of his clinic and watched Maggie’s little Subaru SUV pull into the parking lot. The afternoon sunlight shone silver when she swung out a pair of forearm crutches, then leveraged herself onto them and started making her painstaking way toward the door.

A thick knot of emotions churned through him as he watched her slow approach—awe and respect and a distinctive kind of pride he knew he had no right to feel.

She wore tan slacks and a crisp white shirt that would have looked severe if not for the turquois-and-silver choker and matching earrings she wore with it.

She had pulled her thick hair back in a headband, and she looked springy and bright and so beautiful he decided he would have been content to spend the rest of the afternoon just gazing at her.

Though she wore her prosthesis, she wasn’t putting weight on it, and his mind started racing through all the possible reasons for that. Had she reinjured herself? Was there a problem with the fit?

He wanted to rush out to help her as she made her cautious way across the parking lot to the clinic, but he managed to restrain himself, though it was just about the toughest thing he’d ever had to do.

If he made any kind of scene, he had no doubt she would turn around, head back to her car and take off. She didn’t seem to welcome any effort on his part to help her, no matter how well intentioned, so he forced himself to remain at the door.

At last she reached him.

“You’re here. I didn’t expect to see you.”

She frowned. “I may not have been involved in making this stupid deal, but I refuse to be the one to break it, either. My mother gave you her word, and the Cruz family honors its promises.”

Her implication that his family couldn’t say the same was obvious, but he decided to overlook it for now.

“Come in. We don’t open for another ten minutes or so. That should give you a few moments to look around.”

She made a face but moved through the doorway, her shoulder brushing his chest as she hobbled past.

She smelled divine, like the lavender in his mother’s garden, and he tried to disguise his deep inhalation as a regular breath.

She paused for a moment, looking around the waiting area of the clinic, and he tried to read her reaction to the changes he’d made since taking over from Doc Whitaker.

Beyond the obvious cosmetic changes—the new row of windows looking over the mountains, the comfortable furniture with its clean lines—the entire clinic was designed to soothe frayed nerves and help patients feel more comfortable.

A few things hadn’t changed from Doc Whitaker’s time, and one of those was coming around the receptionist counter with a smile.

“Magdalena, you remember Carol Bass? She’s been the receptionist and dragon at the gate for going on thirty years now.”

Maggie smiled with delight, and Jake wondered what he would have to do to become the recipient of one of those looks.

“Of course,” she exclaimed. “I still remember all those cherry lollipops you used to dole out if we didn’t cry during shots.”

Carol gave Maggie a hearty hug. “I still give them to the kids. Amazing how a litle sugar will take away the worst sting.”

“I figured that out with my patients in Phoenix. Even the grown kids handle shots better with a little chocolate.”

Carol returned her smile before her expression grew solemn and she squeezed Maggie’s hand. “I’m so sorry about what happened to you over there, honey. I hope you know how much your service means to all of us here in Pine Gulch.”

Maggie’s shoulders stiffened and she looked uncomfortable at the sudden direction of the conversation, but she merely smiled. “Thank you. And you should know how much I appreciated the card and flowers you and
Dale sent me after I returned stateside. They were so lovely. All the nurses at Walter Reed raved about them. I was very touched that you thought of me.”

He
had sent her flowers, too. Most likely she tossed them when she’d seen his name on the card.

He caught the bitterness in his thoughts and chided himself. She could do what she wanted with his flowers. He hadn’t sent them to earn her undying appreciation.

“Of course we thought of you,” Carol answered firmly. “This whole town prayed for you after you were hurt over there. We’re still praying for you, honey.”

Maggie looked overwhelmed suddenly by Carol’s solicitude, fragile as antique glass, and he gave in to his fierce need to protect her.

“Why don’t I give you a quick tour before the clinic opens again so you know your way around when the patients start showing up?”

“Yes. All right.” It might have been his imagination but he thought for a moment, there, she actually looked grateful.

She followed him through the security door to the inner hallway between exam rooms. He opened the first door and gestured for Maggie to go inside, then he closed the door to the exam room behind them so they were out of Carol’s earshot.

He wanted to kiss her again. The need to touch her once more, to taste her, burned inside him.

He forced himself to push it aside. She hadn’t been thrilled the first time he did it. If he tried it again, she’d probably stab him with the nearest surgical instrument.

“Okay, what’s the story with the cruches?” he asked.

Her pretty mouth tightened. “In case it slipped your attention, I’m missing half my leg. Crutches are sometimes a necessary evil.”

He ignored her sarcasm. “You’re having problems with the prosthesis, aren’t you?”

“Nothing a good trash compactor couldn’t take care of for me.”

“What’s going on?”

He thought for a moment she wouldn’t answer, but after a moment she sighed. “I’m having a little continuing irritation. After a conference call between my prosthetist and one in Idaho Falls, I’ve been strongly encouraged to go back to wearing it without weight bearing for a while.”

His sorrow for what she had to deal with was a physical ache in his chest. He wanted so much to take this struggle away from her, and he hated his helplessness. What was the point of twelve years of medical training if he couldn’t ease this burden for her?

Some of his emotions must have shown in his expression because her eyes suddenly turned cool. She didn’t want anything from him, apparently, especially not sympathy.

“Let’s get on with it. Since I’m being blackmailed to be here, you might as well give me the tour.”

She was pushing him away, and he knew he could do nothing about that, either.

“This is one of six exam rooms.” He opened the door and walked down the hall, measuring his steps so she could keep up with him on her crutches. “We have one trauma room that can double as an operating room for
minor emergency procedures. Just as under Doc Whitaker, we’re part first-aid station, part triage center and part family medicine practice.”

“And your free clinic?”

“We started doing it once a month on what is supposed to be my half day off, to try meeting some of the medical needs of the underserved populations. It’s open to anyone without insurance but we especially encourage agriculture workers and their families. Examinations are free, and lab work is available at reduced cost through a foundation we set up here at the clinic.”

“Very philanthropic of you.”

“But shortsighted. We quickly learned we’d underestimated demand and a monthly clinic just wasn’t enough. We’re doing it bimonthly now, and even that is always full.”

“What kinds of patient care do you typically give?”

“A little of everything. Prenatal care, diabetes management, well-child visits. A wide gamut.”

Carol called down the hall, interrupting him. “It’s showtime. Three cars just pulled up in the parking lot. You ready to go?”

“Where’s Jan?”

His nurse popped her head out of the reception area. “Right here. Sorry, I was late getting back from lunch. The diner was packed. Let’s rock and roll.”

“Jan, this is Maggie Cruz. She’s going to translate for us today.”

“Cool. Nice to meet you.”

Tall and rangy, with short-cropped blond hair, Jan Sunvale was a transplant to Pine Gulch from Boston. She
was an avid hiker and climber who had moved West looking for room to breathe. He considered her one of the clinic’s biggest assets and praised the day she decided to make a pit stop in Pine Gulch and ended up staying.