What The Cowboy Prescribes.... Mary Starleigh

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      The man’s compassionate tone filled Meg with relief.

      Erin nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

      “Thank you.” Sue Waldron was standing close by her son. “Erin and I were on our way to get feed for his horse…and we just stopped…thank you so much.”

      Sue’s voice broke, and Meg slid an arm around her shoulders.

      The stranger stood and gazed down at Meg. He towered over her. “Erin’ll be fine. I’ve checked him.”

      “Come on, Erin, we’d better get home,” Sue said.

      Mother and son collected their belongings and headed for the door. Erin turned around and waved. “Thanks, mister.”

      A smile and deep emotion graced the man’s face for a quick moment, then vanished.

      Meg gripped one of the Sunshine’s red plastic chairs. “I can’t thank you enough. I’m Meg Graham, Jackson’s only doctor.” She stepped forward and extended her hand.

      “No problem.” He nodded, shook her hand quickly, then turned and walked to his table. After placing a few bills by his check, he shrugged into his jacket and headed for the door.

      “Hey, wait a minute. I’d like to know your name,” Meg called as she crossed the room.

      As if not hearing her, he opened the door, stepped outside and pulled it closed behind him. Meg stared at the door for a moment, then grabbed the knob. She yanked it open and walked out into the Texas sunshine.

      The man pivoted back toward her. Furrows gnarled his forehead and a look of pure aggravation darkened his handsome face. Chestnut hair, the color of a wild horse she’d ridden once, was combed back from his forehead. A black turtleneck accented his tanned skin and was tucked neatly into new jeans that had been pressed to a knife’s edge.

      Her hand found his arm, and the rich, soft cashmere of his jacket. “At least tell me your name so I can thank you properly. Are you a doctor?”

      “I was.”

      “And your name?”

      “Steve Hartly.”

      His dark, smoky voice wove a spell around her. “Are you just passing through Jackson?” she pressed.

      “I stopped for lunch.”

      The color of his eyes, like dark Texas earth, again reflected the strong emotion she’d seen inside the café, when he was comforting the child.

      Meg’s hand dropped to her side and she took an exhausted breath. “Thanks for stepping in and helping Erin.”

      Steve studied her for a moment, then jammed his hands into his pockets. “You’re welcome. But there’s no need to thank me. It was a simple procedure.”

      Before she could say anything else, he turned to leave.

      Her hand flew to his arm again. At the touch, his biceps hardened, and butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

      He turned back. “I need to get going.”

      Meg caught a glimpse of their reflections in the mirrorlike, plate-glass window. Steve was at least a head taller, and the painted yellow heart on the café’s sign was accenting both their shimmering images.

      Another fluttering of butterflies assaulted her.

      “It’s tough being the only doctor in town,” she blurted. Now why had she said that?

      Silently he studied every inch and curve of her body, then glanced into her eyes. “You look like you can handle just about anything.”

      As if on the wild horse again, Meg felt her stomach flip-flop.

      “Well…y-yes,” she stuttered, confused at her physical reaction to the stranger.

      “I’ve got to be on my way.”

      For some crazy reason, she didn’t want Steve to leave. “Sorry your lunch was interrupted.”

      “No problem.” His right brow arched slightly, making his face more asymmetrical, yet more handsome.

      “Sunshine has great food. You’ll have to…” The rest of her suggestion evaporated. What was she planning to say?

      Steve brought his hand to his chin and studied her again.

      “You might want…” Meg was finding it hard to complete a thought. “My office and clinic—” she pointed down the sidewalk “—right there.…”

      She glanced back to the reflection in the café window. Why hadn’t she combed her hair earlier?

      His brow arched again.

      “Ever practice in a rural area?” she queried.

      Steve shook his head.

      “Well, it’s very interesting. Busy, though. Jackson’s a wonderful place.” She poised her hand on her hip. His eyes remained on her, and her mouth turned as dry as a Texas wind.

      Darn it!

      What was wrong with her? She’d felt so tired before she’d come down to the Sunshine, yet at the moment she was feeling so alive. Maybe all she needed was a good night’s sleep.

      The sun came out from behind a feathery cloud, and Steve squinted a little. Tiny crinkles formed around his eyes and added to his attractiveness. There’d be no sleeping with this man around. Coming from out of nowhere, the thought jarred her.

      Steve cleared his throat. “I should get going.”

      Before she could say another word, he walked to a shiny black BMW sitting two parking spaces down from the Sunshine Café. His muscular legs carried his massive frame with ease.

      Meg leaned against the concrete wall and crossed her arms. Steve opened the car door and climbed in. Through a lightly tinted windshield, she could see him settle himself against the seat and start the engine.

      Then his attention shifted to her. His strong jaw accented his full mouth, and one dark brow arched higher than the other again, adding to his powerful, mysterious persona.

      Meg’s stomach fluttered once more. She was either hungry or tired, and right now she couldn’t do anything about either state. She gripped her arms in a self-conscious hug, then raised her right hand and waved goodbye.

      Steve didn’t smile, only nodded, then maneuvered the soundless automobile out of the parking space onto Main Street.

      She chewed the inside of her cheek and shoved her hands into her pockets. Thank goodness that was over. But she was glad he’d been around to help Erin.

      Cal Bradford opened the café door. “Hey, Meg, can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

      “No thanks, Cal. СКАЧАТЬ