The Texan's Future Bride. Sheri WhiteFeather

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СКАЧАТЬ when they’re meant to.” He smiled. “I also think you should start calling me Doc.”

      “Okay, Doc.” He preferred less formality, too, and already he’d gotten used to hearing Jenna say it. A moment later, he shifted his gaze back to his unfamiliar clothes.

      Jenna said, “You put some miles on those boots.”

      “I must have thought they were comfortable.” He noticed that the toes were starting to turn up. “I guess I’m going to find out if I still like wearing them.”

      “Yes, J.D., you are,” Doc said, using his new name. “In fact, you can get dressed now, if you want. I can send a nurse in if you need help.”

      “No, I can handle it.”

      “All right. Then I’ll go get your papers ready, and Jenna can step out of the room and come back when you’re done.”

      J.D. got a highly inappropriate urge, wishing that he could ask her to stay and help him get dressed. He even imagined her hand on his zipper.

      Hell and damnation.

      He should have insisted on going to a shelter. Clearly, being around Jenna wasn’t a good idea.

      She and the doctor left, closing the curtain behind them. J.D. got out of bed and walked over to the closet, still thinking about Jenna.

      He cursed quietly under his breath, stripped off the hospital gown and put on his Western wear. He grappled with his belt. He fought the boots, too. They felt odd at first, but he got used to them soon enough.

      Curious to look at himself in the mirror, he went into the bathroom. He didn’t recognize his reflection, with him wearing the clothes. He was still a nowhere man.

      Luckily, the hospital had provided a few necessities, like a comb, toothpaste and a toothbrush. Still standing in front of the mirror, he combed his hair straight back, but it fell forward naturally, so he let it be. They hadn’t provided a razor, so he had no choice but to leave the beard stubble. It was starting to itch and he wanted it gone. Or maybe it was the image it created that he didn’t like. It made him look as haunted as he felt, like an Old West outlaw.

      J.D. the Kid? No. He wasn’t a kid. He figured himself for early thirties. Or that was how he appeared. But he could be mistaken.

      Blowing out a breath, he returned to his room and opened the curtain, letting Jenna know that she could come back.

      She did, about five minutes later, bringing two cups of coffee with her.

      “It’s from the vending machine,” she said. “But it’s pretty good. I had some last night when I was waiting for your test results.” She handed him a cup. “It has cream and sugar. I hope that’s okay.”

      “It’s fine. Thanks. I don’t have a preference, not that I’m aware of, anyway.” He sat on the edge of the bed, offering her the chair. “You’ve been putting in a lot of time at this place, hanging out for a man you barely know.”

      “I’m starting to get to know you.” She smiled. “You obviously like coffee.”

      “So it seems.” He drank it right down. “I had orange juice with breakfast, but this hits the spot.”

      “We have gourmet coffeemakers in the guest cabins. You can brew yourself a fancy cup of Joe tomorrow morning.”

      “That sounds good, but maybe I shouldn’t stay there. You don’t need the burden of having a guy like me around.”

      “You can’t back out. You already agreed. Doctor’s orders, remember?”

      Yes, but his recovery didn’t include the stirrings she incited. Even now, he wanted to see her blush again. He liked the shy side of her.

      “When this is over, I’ll repay you for your hospitality,” he said.

      “Just get better, okay? That will be payment enough.”

      “You’re a nice girl, Jenna.”

      “And you seem like a nice man.”

      “You thought I was drunk off my butt when you saw me stumbling around. I remember you telling me that I had too much to drink.”

      “I retracted that when I saw that your head was bleeding. How is your head, by the way?”

      “Still hurts a little.”

      “How about your feet?”

      He squinted. “My feet aren’t injured.”

      “I was talking about your boots. How do they feel?”

      Oh, yeah. The boots. He glanced down at the scuffed leather. “Fine.” He motioned to hers. “You’ve got yourself a fancy pair.”

      “These are my dressy ones. Sometimes I go dancing in them, too.”

      “I have no idea if I know how to dance.”

      “You can try the two-step and see.”

      “Right now?” He teased her. “Up and down the hospital corridor?”

      She laughed. “Later, smarty, when you’re up to par.”

      Were they flirting? It sure as heck seemed as if they were. But it didn’t last long because he didn’t let it.

      He knew better than to start something that he was in no position to finish. She seemed to know it, too. She turned off the charm at the same instant he did.

      Tempering what was happening between them.

      As a bright and bouncy nurse wheeled J.D. out to Jenna’s truck, he said, “I’d rather walk.”

      “It’s hospital policy,” the chipper lady said. “Everyone leaves in a wheelchair.”

      He made a face, and Jenna smiled to herself. Machismo. He certainly behaved like a cowboy.

      She stopped smiling. She was actually taking this man home with her, and she knew darn well that he was as attracted to her as she was to him.

      But they weren’t going to act on it. They were both cautious enough not to let it take over. So it would be fine, she assured herself. He would be a recuperating guest, a patient of Doc’s, and nothing more.

      She turned on the radio, and they listened to music instead of talking.

      Finally, when they were on the private road leading to the ranch, he glanced over at her and said, “Déjà vu,” making a joke about repeating his car-ride experience from yesterday.

      She tried to make light of it, too. “Your first encounter with it.”

      “That I’m able to remember. I probably had déjà vu in my old life.”

      His old life. That made it sound as if he’d become someone new. She supposed that, at least for now, he was a different person. But СКАЧАТЬ