Christmas On The Silver Horn Ranch. Stella Bagwell

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СКАЧАТЬ Each time the christening was followed by a celebration here at the house.”

      Her answer appeared to surprise him.

      “So you’re acquainted with my brother and sister-in-law?”

      “I’ve only met Rafe a few times. But I’ve been friends with Lilly for several years. We worked together when she was still at Tahoe General.”

      “I see. Did she pick you out for this job?”

      “No. Chet Anderson picked me for the job.”

      “Who’s he?”

      “Director of nurses at Tahoe General. I’m told he’s friends with your father.”

      “Oh. Well, I should’ve known. Dad is determined to see that I get the best of care. Are you the best, Ava Archer?”

      Now that he was lying prone on the bed, she could see a large bandage on his left shoulder blade, two more protected areas on his left arm and another huge one on the right side of his back just below his rib cage. From her experience with treating burns, she knew that he’d experienced some serious pain.

      “You’d have to ask my superiors that question,” she replied. “But don’t worry, I’ll do my best to make this as gentle as possible. Have you been taking your meds?”

      “The antibiotics and the vitamins. Not the ones for pain. I prefer to have all my senses about me.”

      “There’s no need for you to try to be a hero.” She positioned his arm so that the back was exposed, then reached for the scissors. As she began to cut away the bandages, she tried not to notice the massive width of his shoulders or the bulging muscles in his arms. No doubt the man was as strong as a bull.

       What does that have to do with you changing a patient’s bandages, Ava? You’re supposed to be focused on Bowie’s injuries. Not his masculine charms.

      The return of the annoying voice in her head caused Ava to press her lips to a thin line. She didn’t need to be reminded that her thoughts were straying. She’d lost the reins on most of them the first moment she’d laid eyes on him.

      Determined to get back to the task at hand, Ava carefully peeled back the special bandage protecting the burn. The mottled flesh was still a long way from regrowing a normal layer of skin. But mercifully there were no signs of infection.

      He said, “I’ve never had ambitions of being a hero.”

      The tone of his voice was a mixture of rough huskiness and teasing lilt. Each time he spoke the sound sent a tiny wave of pleasure through her.

      “What sort of ambitions do you have, Bowie?”

      “Excitement. Fun. Living life to the fullest.”

      His answer was exactly what she’d expected. Even in his battered condition, he possessed a reckless zest for living. And that disappointed her greatly. Why, she didn’t know. This young man was just a patient she would be treating for a few weeks and would never see again once the job was finished. What his future held meant nothing to her.

      “Sounds like a lofty goal,” she finally replied.

      He chuckled and Ava decided the sound was even more pleasant than his speaking voice. His laugh reminded her of a time in her life when the whole world seemed bright and beautiful, and life was full of incredible joy.

      “I thought so, too,” he said. Then, lifting his cheek off the mattress, he attempted to look at her from the corner of his eye. “What sort of ambitions do you have, Ava? Marrying some good-looking guy? Or do you already have a husband?”

      None of that was his business. But since she was treating him in such an intimate setting, it would seem ridiculous not to tell him a little about herself. After all, what would it hurt?

      “I’m not married. I’m a widow.”

      Heaven help her, why had she added that? Ava didn’t go around announcing she’d been widowed, especially to people she’d just met. It was a fact she’d rather not talk about. But something had suddenly pushed the words from her mouth, as though it was important for this man to understand who and what she was.

      “A widow,” he repeated thoughtfully. “I’m sorry. Real sorry.”

      She’d not expected to hear such sincerity in his voice, and the idea that he might genuinely care struck a deep chord in her.

      “Thank you. I lost Lawrence thirteen years ago. But that... Well, it’s still hard for me, you know.”

      “To be honest, I can’t say that I do know. I’ve never been married or even engaged, so I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose a spouse. Maybe Lilly has told you our father is a widower. After our mother died, I saw him broken with grief. It wasn’t anything I’d want to see again.”

      Her gaze left his arm to settle on the side of his face. The sober expression on his features was quite a contrast to the flirty guy of a few moments ago. Maybe the man wasn’t fun and games all the time, she thought.

      “Lilly did mention that Mr. Calhoun had lost his wife. But she didn’t go into the circumstances,” Ava told him. “How long has your mother been gone?”

      “Nine years. Those stairs you climbed to get up here to my bedroom—she took a misstep and fell down them. It caused a blood clot in her head. I had just gone into the Marine Corps when the accident happened.”

      She stared at him. To hear his mother had died of a tragic accident was one thing, but then he’d dropped another stunner. “You were in the military?” she finally asked.

      “Ever since I turned eighteen. It’s been close to a year since I left and moved back here from the base in California. After that I went through training for the hotshot crew and went to work fighting wildfires.”

      So he’d gone from being a soldier to a firefighter. He clearly had no intentions of slowing down just yet. But why would he, she asked herself. He was still young, with no responsibilities other than himself.

      “I see.”

      When she didn’t say more, he asked, “What’s wrong? You have something against military men?”

      Haunting memories suddenly crowded their way into her thoughts, forcing her to swallow before she could utter a word. “No. I don’t have anything against the military. It’s just that Lawrence was a soldier. In the army. That’s how he died—in the Middle East. He was only twenty-five.”

      Once again he lifted his head from the mattress to look at her. The keen search of his green eyes was so disturbing, she quickly dragged her attention back to his arm.

      “Oh. That’s rough. I was deployed to Qatar for a while, but never any countries raging with conflict. So I never saw action. Some of my buddies did, though.”

      She soaked a cotton pad with peroxide and carefully dabbed at the adhesive residue on his healthy skin. “What made you get out of the service? Tired of the restrictions?”

      “No matter what sort of job we have, Ava, we all live with some sort СКАЧАТЬ