The Rancher's Prospect. Callie Endicott

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      The woman stopped abruptly and looked down at the papers on her desk; perhaps she’d been about to say something prohibited under privacy regulations. She seemed relieved when someone else came through the door and stepped up to the window. A protracted discussion about insurance ensued, so Tara settled into a seat and leafed through a news magazine. She read with interest an article on international relations with France. The thought of returning to Paris for her next contract was compelling, but there were so many other places to see. Rome and Berlin called to her as well, along with Madrid.

      In the background, she heard a comment about something Josh needed and pictured his face again. Maybe she shouldn’t have sounded off since the clinic was Lauren’s place of employment. But who did he think he was? Lauren was a professional, not a flunky who was supposed to jump when he snapped his fingers.

      As for lectures... Weren’t medical personnel supposed to advise their patients on healthy living?

      She was on her third magazine when the interior door swung open.

      It was Josh...What’s His Name. While his hand was neatly bandaged and elevated in a sling, getting it treated obviously hadn’t sweetened his mood. The thunderclouds on his face did nothing to diminish his good looks, but Tara wasn’t impressed—she’d known too many handsome jerks over the years. He glanced at her, and she gave him a wickedly sweet smile, which made him glower all the more fiercely before marching from the clinic.

      Lauren joined her several minutes later.

      “I’m free now,” she said. “But I’m afraid that took part of my lunch hour.”

      “That’s okay. Where shall we go?”

      “How about the restaurant down the street? It isn’t gourmet, nothing like the places where we ate in Paris. Schuyler doesn’t have any fancy restaurants, but the Roundup Café is fast and clean.”

      “Not a problem. I enjoy indigenous foods.”

      Lauren just blinked at the tongue-in-cheek remark, so Tara wasn’t sure whether her sister shared her sense of humor. Or maybe they simply needed to know each other better before that sort of thing could be understood between them.

      * * *

      JOSH STALKED AWAY from the clinic. The throb in his palm had subsided thanks to the anesthetic Lauren had used before sewing it up, but it would undoubtedly begin hurting again as that wore off. She’d also written a prescription for pain pills. He had insisted they weren’t necessary, but she’d reasonably pointed out that he might change his mind after the clinic had closed.

      It didn’t help to know he’d acted worse than a hungry bear right out of hibernation. The series of accidents he’d had in recent months had made him feel like a ten-thumbed greenhorn. What’s more, once he got back to the Boxing N, Grandpa was sure to make a remark that would send his blood pressure sky-high.

      On Josh’s last two visits to the clinic, Lauren had suggested he needed to pay more attention to what he was doing, especially when tense or angry. It was irritating to be told something he already knew, and he hadn’t wanted to hear it again. Still, Lauren Spencer was a nice sort, and he shouldn’t have barked at her...or at the woman he’d thought was Lauren. The story of her long-lost twin sister had gone through Schuyler with the speed of a grassfire, but he hadn’t realized they were identical.

      Well, not really identical, at least in personality. Lauren was quiet, almost shy at times, with a down-to-earth practicality, while Tara had a cool, sensual polish. If he’d known she was in town he never would have mixed them up, but he’d heard she lived in France. She did seem foreign in Montana, while her sister had fit in from the beginning. It was a good thing. Getting medical professionals in Schuyler was an ongoing challenge; the town had even resorted to offering a bonus for anyone agreeing to stay three years or longer.

      Josh snorted grimly. People in Schuyler wouldn’t be pleased if he said anything to make Lauren unhappy. It wasn’t just that they needed a good PA, they liked her...a whole lot better than they liked him recently.

      Grimacing, he fished his cell phone out, awkward from being temporarily one-handed. Finally he untied the sling and stuffed it in his pocket. His phone had rung several times in the clinic, but he hadn’t been able to answer while Lauren was stitching up his palm.

      The missed calls were from his parents’ home number, so he dialed back, trying to ignore the small clutch in his chest. It had only been six months since they’d lost Grandma Evelyn, and the whole family remained jumpy about the possibility of more bad news.

      “Darling, are you all right?” asked his mother in an anxious tone. “Dora Payton phoned. She said you went into the clinic covered in blood.”

      “Dora overreacted, as usual. It’s just a cut and Lauren put in a few stitches.”

      “Thank God. Not that I’m happy you were hurt, I’m just glad it wasn’t worse. Why don’t you come over and lie down for a while? I’ll make you lunch.”

      Sarah McGregor couldn’t resist playing mommy, even for her grown children.

      “Thanks, but I’m fine. As long as I’m in town, I’m going to run an errand.”

      “Oh. All right. Call if you need anything.”

      “Will do.” Josh disconnected before she could suggest pulling out his old teddy bear for comfort.

      He returned the phone to his pocket and headed for the bank. After taking care of his business, he’d stop and grab lunch before going back to the ranch. Maybe along the way he’d get a little inspiration on dealing with his grandfather.

      * * *

      AS SHE AND LAUREN stepped into the Roundup Café, Tara was instantly aware that they’d become the center of attention. Heads swiveled their direction, the rhythm of the conversations changed and several people left their seats to crowd around them.

      “My word, Lauren,” an older woman exclaimed, “you mentioned having a twin, but it didn’t sink in that you’d look so much alike. Your hair and eyes... I can hardly tell you apart.”

      “Did you really meet for the first time in the last year?” someone else asked. “That’s amazing.”

      Their curiosity was understandable. Separated and reunited twins weren’t common, and Tara knew she might be equally curious in their shoes.

      “Tara,” Lauren said, “this is Vanta Cooper, she’s an attorney, and that’s Mark Corson, and this is Rob Mueller...”

      The introductions continued and Tara lost track of the names; it seemed as if her sister knew everyone in town.

      Vanta Cooper leaned toward Tara. “Don’t worry, nobody expects you to remember who we are. Lauren gets to know us at the clinic and other places.”

      Nevertheless, Tara was getting distinctly edgy. How had her sister become friends with so many people? She’d only lived in Schuyler since last October. Maybe it was a Montana thing, the open ranges and isolation drawing everyone together. Or it could simply be that Lauren made friends easily.

      Tara’s smile got harder to maintain as the introductions continued. СКАЧАТЬ