Sassy Cinderella. Kara Lennox

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      As for the kids, they were so precious they made her heart ache. All children made her feel that way, bringing back memories she’d just as soon keep buried. She liked to think she would be good with children, but in reality she hadn’t spent enough time around any to know. She imagined she could keep them safe, clean and fed, which was the minimum this job required. But she wasn’t sure if they would like her. For all she knew, they might believe she was trying to replace their mother.

      “We laid in some groceries earlier today,” Allison was explaining as they entered the kitchen. “I have no idea what you like to cook, so I bought some staples and also frozen convenience stuff, just in case. The ranch has an account at the grocery store, so you can just charge whatever you want.”

      Sherry inspected the cupboards and refrigerator contents in the large, homey kitchen. There seemed to be plenty of everything she would need for several days. “Will I need to get some sort of authorization?”

      Allison looked at her blankly. “For what?”

      “To charge the groceries.”

      Allison laughed. “That’s not necessary. I just called Clem down at Grubbs’ Food Mart and let him know it’s okay for you to sign on the Hardison account.”

      Wow. That was small-town life, Sherry guessed. Everyone knew everyone and trusted everyone, apparently. Sherry wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She was accustomed to the anonymity of the big city. She met new people every day and none of them could judge her on her past, only on what she let them see.

      Sometimes that was enough, she conceded with a grin.

      “Why are you smiling?” the little girl asked.

      Sherry’s grin grew. “Because I’m happy to be here, I guess. Sometimes I just smile for the heck of it. You know, doctors have done tests on people that prove smiling makes you happy, even if you aren’t happy to start with.”

      “That sounds like hogwash,” the boy said as he peered hopefully into an empty cookie jar.

      Sam, Sherry reminded herself. Sam and Kristin. She prided herself on remembering names because she’d learned that her patients felt more relaxed when she related to them as people, one on one.

      “Sam!” Allison scolded. “That wasn’t very nice.”

      “He just says that word because Grandpa Pete says it and he thinks it’s funny,” Kristin said. Then she turned shy blue eyes on Sherry. “You have pretty teeth.”

      “Best teeth money can buy,” Sherry quipped.

      Allison started to say something, then stopped.

      “What?” Sherry prompted.

      “I was just wondering what happened to your real teeth, because I’m a dentist and therefore unnaturally interested in people’s mouths. But it’s a rude question.”

      “No, it’s not,” Sherry said. “I chipped two of them by falling off a bicycle when I was a kid.” That was the story she’d been using for a long time. It was a lot nicer than the truth.

      “Well, someone did an excellent job on your caps,” Allison said as they headed back through the dining room and into the living room. “Only a dentist like me would notice you have caps.”

      “Thanks.” Getting her teeth fixed was one of the first things Sherry had attended to after she got out of nursing school.

      Jeff was just coming through the front door with Sherry’s luggage. It hadn’t seemed like so much when she’d stuffed it all into the trunk and back seat of the Firebird, but now it looked like a tapestry-printed mountain growing in the middle of the room.

      Jonathan frowned at the vast pile of luggage. Then he turned to Sherry. “You are here just for a few days, right?”

      “I know it looks like a lot,” Sherry said apologetically. “I never have been good at packing. Don’t worry, the bags will be out of your way in a jiffy.” She grabbed up as many of the smaller bags as she could carry and lugged them toward her room. Jeff and Allison got the rest.

      “This room is really nice,” Sherry said, running a finger along the top of the oak dresser. The comforter on the queen-size bed looked fluffy and warm, and there were at least four pillows, all with matching pillow slips.

      “Anne made it over,” Allison said. “She has really good taste. In fact, Anne is the one who made me over.”

      Allison had told Sherry the whole story when they first became friends. She’d wanted to catch Jeff’s eye, so she’d done a radical makeover on herself, only to have Jeff fail to notice. He’d finally come to his senses and realized he loved Allison, but apparently his feelings had little to do with her appearance.

      “Want me to help you unpack?” Allison asked.

      “I’ll do that later. Right now, I’d like to sit down with Jeff and learn more about Jonathan’s medical condition to find out exactly what sort of care you want me to provide.” She slipped a notebook and pen from the outer pocket of one of her bags.

      “He has a concussion,” Jeff said. “He landed on his head.”

      “I’m surprised he didn’t leave a dent in the ground,” Allison said, “instead of the other way round.”

      “Of the two, his head’s probably harder,” Jeff agreed. “Anyway, Sherry, Jonathan also has an angulated, displaced fracture of the tibia, but it was simple. There were no bone fragments, so the orthopedist didn’t feel surgery was necessary, just reduction and a cast. But there was a lot of swelling and bruising, so he needs to keep the leg elevated—and keep off it, of course. Otherwise, just watch for signs of infection. He has some minor abrasions where the horse kicked him.”

      Sherry gasped. “A horse kicked him?”

      “After bucking him off,” Allison added. “These men and their horses…Well, anyway, other than keeping an eye on Jonathan, you’ll just need to cook and clean and help out with the kids. I know it’s not a job that requires your level of skill—”

      “Oh, I don’t mind,” Sherry said quickly, then realized how overeager she sounded. But the idea of playing house with Jonathan Hardison and his family was far more appealing than it should have been. “Is Jonathan on any medication?”

      “Antibiotics and Vicadin for pain, but he’s not taking the pain pill. He said he didn’t like how it made him groggy.” Jeff pulled two prescription bottles out of his shirt pocket and handed them to Sherry. “Make him take the Vicadin if the pain keeps him awake at night. He needs to sleep if he wants to heal.”

      “Gotcha.” She scribbled in her notebook as they all three returned to the living room.

      “Kristin has food allergies,” Allison added. “The list of everything she’s allergic to is on the fridge.”

      More scribbles in the notebook.

      “Sam hates baths and will go to any lengths to avoid them,” Allison said with a chuckle. “Don’t let him con you.”

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