Summer Rose (5 page)

Hunter began the long process of removing the bullet from the wolf and repairing her flesh. From Rose’s short stint as an assistant in a small clinic the first summer after she’d earned her LPN, she’d learned that doctors don’t take kindly to chatter while doing surgery, so she stopped asking questions, did her job and observed.

A long time later,
Hunter tied off the last stitch. “She should be as good as new in a few weeks. I don’t think the bullet damaged her muscles.”

Rose began bandaging the wolf’s thigh. “Then what?”

“We’ll keep her here until she’s fully recovered. Then I’ll have her transported back up north to the recovery area. They’ll release her so she can find her pack.” He walked to the sink, stripped off the rubber gloves, dropped them in the waste basket and then washed his hands.

“You did good tonight,” he told Rose.

And she had. If he hadn’t been impressed before with his new assistant, her performance tonight had made that very clear. She’d stopped talking as soon as he’d picked up the scalpel, and he’d never had to tell her something more than once. But the compassion she’d shown for the wolf had probably impressed him most. Her questions, her gentle caress and the tears she’d done her best to hide, told him she truly cared about the animal.

Now, if he could just keep his hands off her, they’d have a terrific working relationship. Rose picked that precise moment to stretch her shoulders back to remove the kinks. Her breasts pushed against her T-shirt. Hunter swallowed hard and turned away.

“Are you hungry?” He removed his lab coat and quickly slipped back into his shirt.

When he turned to face her, she was staring at him openmouthed. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. Desire was written as clearly in her eyes as if the words had been printed across her forehead.

He cleared his throat, and she seemed to rouse from her sensual stupor.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?” She cringed at the telltale breathlessness in her voice. Why couldn’t the man stay dressed when she was around?

“I asked if you’re hungry?”

Once more, the image of him shirtless and sexy as all get out assaulted her. Yes, she was hungry, but she was also certain that he didn’t mean the same kind of hunger she felt coursing through her.

Suddenly, a meal of peanut butter and crackers outside with one of the wild animals sounded much safer than surf and turf with Hunter in his little house.

Since Hunter wouldn’t take
no
for an answer, Rose accepted his invitation to join him for something to eat, but only if they ate on his front porch. She used the excuse of needing fresh air after being cooped up in the operating room for the last few hours and needing to clear the smell of the anesthetic from her nose. In actuality, she believed she’d be safer fighting her libido in the openness of the porch rather than inside the four walls of his little cottage-like house.

Too late, she discovered that the inky night, illuminated by a full moon, made the porch more intimate than a candlelit dinner. Oddly enough, despite her misgivings, she found herself relaxing, her jagged nerves soothed by the beauty of the balmy summer night, the chirping of the crickets and the monotonous creaking of the rocking chairs on the bare wood floor.

Rose washed the last bite of ham sandwich down with a sip of icy cold sweet tea. “Hmm, that was as good as any steak dinner. Thanks.” After finishing off three sandwiches to her one, Hunter set his empty plate aside. “My pleasure. But you certainly worked hard enough your first day to deserve something better than ham and cheese on rye.”

Leaning back, she gazed up at the velvet sky filled with innumerable dots of winking lights. She listened to the night sounds and inhaled the fresh air. “I enjoyed the work much more than I thought I would.” Realizing how heartless that must have sounded, she bolted upright and turned to face him. “Not that I took any pleasure in the wolf getting shot, mind you.”

When he smiled in understanding, she leaned back, started the rocker in motion with a push of her foot and then continued her contemplation of the night sky.

“Everything about the last two days has been wonderful—learning about the animals, watching Davy with the lion cub, being able to help you save the wolf.” She sighed contentedly. “I think I’m going to love living and working in Carson.”

The grind of his rocker against the porch floor joined hers. “How did you find Carson anyway? It’s a tiny town buried in the middle of nowhere. I’m not even sure it’s on most maps.”

Rose remained silent for a moment, recalling how, when Beth talked about the town where she and her mother had lived, a glow had enveloped her foster sister’s face. “A girl I met in a foster home told me about it.” As she spoke, she rested her hand on her stomach, her fingers moved slightly, caressing Beth’s babies. She smiled. Rose would always think of them as
Beth’s babies
, even though her friend’s egg didn’t help produce them. “We were only twelve at the time, and we used to whisper at night after lights-out. She told me about the wildflowers that grew in the meadows every spring out by the Watkins’ farm, and the way the trees looked after it snowed and how Bessie Wright ran her car into a snow bank every winter and had to be towed out.”

To his credit, Hunter remained silent and let her talk. That she was doing so this freely surprised her. She’d never before shared her and Beth’s private moments with anyone.

“I’m sorry. I must be boring you with all this girlish reminiscing.”

He reached out and grabbed her hand, enclosing it in his warm grip. “Not at all. I’ve lived here all my life and right now, thanks in part to Mayor Collins, my perception of the town is a bit tarnished. It’s nice to see it through the eyes of someone new.” He squeezed gently. “Please, go on.”

Rose glanced down at their entwined hands on the arm of her rocker. For a split second, she thought about pulling away, but realized that for the first time in a long time, she felt as if she mattered to someone, but more than that, she felt safe and cared for. Enjoying the emotions too precious to relinquish so soon, she left her hand encased in his.

“Beth—”

“Beth?”

“Beth Lawrence. Did you know the Lawrences?”

Hunter shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’m sorry I interrupted. Please go on.”

“Beth and her mom lived in a little white house.” She turned to him. “Maybe you know it. The Johnson house just south of town. A white house with green shutters, a white picket fence and yellow roses all over the yard. Her mom loved yellow roses. Beth’s tire swing hung from the big maple in the back.” Rose smiled at the memory of how her friend had talked about her home for hours, making it sound more like a castle than a house. “She really loved that house. Leaving it must have been one of the hardest things she’d ever done.” She turned to him. “You must know of it.”

Hunter’s rocker stopped suddenly. He remained silent for a while and she got the distinct impression he was choosing his words before replying. Then he shook his head. “No, the house doesn’t come to mind, but then tire swings and little white houses were definitely not my priorities.”

Rose couldn’t repress a chuckle. “Girls, right?” She had a flashing vision of Hunter, hormones raging, ogling every girl that passed and handsome as he was, no doubt being ogled in return.

“Oh, yeah. Girls, girls and more girls.” The rocker started up again.

Silence blanketed them. Contented, Rose listened to an owl hooting in the dense woods bordering the sanctuary’s chain-link fence. A car passed around the curve in the road at the end of the lane leading to the clinic. Its lights swept across the yard. A light breeze ruffled Rose’s hair.

Hunter’s soft voice broke the thoughtful silence. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you and boys. Don’t tell me they weren’t chasing you down for dates.”

“I’m afraid not. School kept me too busy for dates. I guess most everyone saw me as a bit of a bookworm. I’ve always loved reading and learning new things.”

“Books never held any particular excitement for me back then. I was more of a hands-on guy. Then I had to . . . Well, other things took precedence.” He laughed and looked just the slightest bit embarrassed at the admission.

Rose wondered what he’d been about to say, but only for a moment. Hunter’s deep-throated laugh only deepened the contentment embracing Rose. A congenial silence lay between them for a time before he spoke again. “So, are you married?”

“No.”

“Engaged?”

“No.”

“Seeing someone?”

“No.” She let go of his hand, sat up straight and then peered at him through the dim light. One part of her rebelled at his inquiries. Another part reveled in the fact that his curiosity revealed a certain degree of interest. “Didn’t you read my job application? And what does this have to do with anything?”

He laughed again, recaptured her hand in his, and then leaned back. “No, I didn’t read it, at least not all of it, and it doesn’t have a single thing to do with anything. I’m just nosy.”

Warmth spread over her like thick honey. That laugh of his could charm fish from a pond and make them grateful they’d swallowed the hook.

You are a dangerous man, Hunter Mackenzie.

Hunter didn’t have a clue as to why he’d asked her all those questions about her personal relationships. Nor did he want to explore it to find out why. Maybe he just didn’t want to talk about what the Johnson house really looked like, had always looked like: the trash and weeds in the yard, the ramshackle porch—the men who came and went at all hours.

Odd that his recollection differed so much from Beth’s description. Could she have just painted a picture for Rose that fit into what Beth had wanted to see? Had Beth really loved Carson all that much or had she invented the spruced-up version for Rose’s sake?

“So what happened to Beth? If she liked Carson so much, why didn’t she come back here with you?” He felt her stiffen, then she slowly extracted her hand from his.

When he turned to look at her, she’d leaned her head forward, her face effectively hidden behind a veil of hair. If he hadn’t learned anything else about Rose in the past two days, he’d learned that she hid behind that mass of hair whenever a subject arose that she wanted to avoid.

“Rose? Did I say something—”

“No.” She raised her head and favored him with a watery smile. “It’s just that . . . Beth and her husband were killed in a car accident—” Her voice choked off. “I’m sorry. It still feels very new.”

A sob broke from her and large tears welled in her eyes, and then cascaded down her cheeks. Her shoulders shook as she wept quietly.

If someone had reached into his chest and ripped his heart out, Hunter could not have hurt more for Rose. Hating himself for raising the subject at all, he left his rocker and went to her. He drew her up and into his arms in one gentle movement. Pressing her cheek against his chest, he held her tight, willing her sorrow into himself.

The sobs continued for some time, before they became intermittent sniffles and gasps for air. Releasing her only long enough to grab a paper napkin left over from their supper, he handed it to her, and then pulled her back into his embrace.

He hated himself for loving the way she felt in his arms, how perfectly they seemed to fit together. He should be concentrating on her, not his testosterone-motivated reactions. But it was hard not to want to stay this way indefinitely.

“I could cut my tongue out for reminding you,” he murmured into her hair.

She shook her head, then raised her tear-streaked face to his. “It’s not your fault. That’s the first time I’ve allowed myself to cry since the funeral. I guess I needed to get it out.”

She neglected to add that she didn’t feel an emotional outburst would be good for the babies. Her thoughts almost made her laugh. The medical background she’d acquired gave her all the information she needed to take care of Beth’s babies’ health. But all her education didn’t tell her how to be their mother, how to love them and nurture them and always be there when they needed her.

Finding Hunter’s arms far too comforting for her peace of mind, she pulled away, separating herself from him. “I’m okay now. Thanks for the shoulder.”

“Anytime.” He smiled that mesmerizing smile of his.

She felt an instant need to rush back into is arms, but managed to keep it under control. “Well, it’s late, and I’m tired. Guess I’ll say goodnight now.” She stepped to the edge of the porch. “Thanks again for supper.”

“Your treat next time,” he said, that tantalizing grin creasing his mouth. “You sure you’ll be all right?”

All right?

No. Not all right. With Hunter in her life, she wasn’t sure she would ever be all right again.

Looking back at him, the moonlight illuminating his face and the breeze ruffling his hair, she wondered how she’d survive without one day giving in to the urge to see if Hunter Mackenzie’s lips tasted as good as they looked.

Hunter put away the syringe
he’d used to give Molly Goodwin’s gray tabby cat, Thomas, an antibiotic shot for his infected eyes. Little Molly had wanted to take her pet home, but Hunter had decided to keep the animal overnight to make sure the infection hadn’t spread. Using a cotton ball, he cleaned the corners of the cat’s eyes with antiseptic, then replaced him in his cage and closed and latched the door.

“You need to stay out of the tall weeds,” Hunter told the cat.

Thomas tilted his head, gave Hunter a haughty glance, then curled himself into a tight ball and closed his eyes.

Hunter leaned against the cage and stared down at the cat. “You’re lucky. All you do is eat and sleep. No responsibilities beyond looking after yourself, no unreasonable, uncontrollable thoughts racing through your head.” He straightened and sighed.

Three days had passed since the almost-kiss in the apartment and then the late night supper on Hunter’s porch. Neither he nor Rose had spoken about it, and he happily left it that way. Mainly because he had no acceptable explanation for the longing that had nagged him for hours after she’d gone up to her apartment, or why he had to doggedly restrain himself from following her.

Rose wasn’t the first woman he’d ever held and talked through some rough moments. However, she was the first woman who had made him want to go on holding her forever and to kiss her until she forgot what had stolen her smile from him. Truth be told, he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since she’d walked into his office, looked him in the eye and nearly thrown up on his desk.

“Meow!”

Thomas’ plaintive yowl pulled Hunter from his thoughts and reminded him he still had patients waiting to be seen. With a sigh, he shoved Rose to the back of his mind where she would hopefully stay—until something unexpected reminded him again of his dilemma.

That afternoon, Rose watched
Hunter’s truck disappear down the road on his way to make a house call about a sick horse. She heaved a sigh of relief. At least for the time being he’d be gone, and she could step off the eggshells she’d been walking on since the night on the porch.

No matter how many times she told herself she had to get this attraction to Hunter under control, her traitorous body didn’t seem to hear. Hunter walked into a room, and her heart sped up. Hunter smiled, and her breath caught in her chest. Hunter walked out of the room, and she felt as if the air had been sucked out behind him.

It had passed the point of ridiculous and was quickly approaching dangerous. She had to get herself back on track. Her hand went to her stomach. She had Beth’s babies to think about.

“Meooow!”

Startled from her musings, Rose looked down at her feet to find Pansy winding around her legs. “What’s your problem?” she asked the cat, scooping her up into her arms.