Главная страница | Современная зарубежная литература | Their Forever Family: Her Family for Keeps / A Father for Poppy / His Little Christmas Miracle

Their Forever Family: Her Family for Keeps / A Father for Poppy / His Little Christmas Miracle
Abigail Gordon
Emily Forbes
Molly Evans
Their Forever Family Her Family for KeepsBeing a travelling nurse suits Rebel Taylor just fine—no ties, no relationships, no dating! With the Huntingdon’s gene in her family, what can she possibly offer a guy anyway? But hot shot doc Duncan McFee wholeheartedly disagrees!A Father for PoppyIt may have been a brief fling, but Tessa Gilroy fell hard for gorgeous surgeon Drake Melford. Now he’s back and even more irresistible than ever! But Tessa’s now a mother now to adorable adopted daughter. Dare Tessa dream that Drake’s the one for her and Poppy?His Little Christmas MiracleSeven years ago, Jess Johnson gave away her heart to gorgeous Australian Lucas White. Yet, it was only after she was torn from Lucas’s arms that Jess discovered she was pregnant. Returning to beautiful Moose Ridge, could they be reunited as family for Christmas?


About the Authors (#uae9fe1b6-71bd-54f7-a982-ee012a3dfc84)
MOLLY EVANS has worked as a nurse for thirty years and has taken her experiences as a travel nurse and turned them into wondrous settings for her books. Some of those assignments were in small rural hospitals, the Indian Health Service in Alaska and in the American southwest, as well as a large research hospital and many other places across the United States.
After rambling for many years, the high desert of New Mexico is now where she calls home. When she’s not writing or attending her son’s hockey games she’s obsessed with learning how to knit socks, visiting with friends, or settling down in front of the fireplace with a glass of wine and her two hounds who are never very far away.
Visit Molly at mollyevansromance.wordpress.com (http://www.mollyevansromance.wordpress.com) to keep up on her latest releases, book events, and what’s going on in Molly’s life at any given moment.
ABIGAIL GORDON loves to write about the fascinating combination of medicine and romance from her home in a Cheshire village. She is active in local affairs, and is even called upon to write the script for the annual village pantomime! Her eldest son is a hospital manager, and helps with all her medical research. As part of a close-knit family, she treasures having two of her sons living close by, and the third one not too far away. This also gives her the added pleasure of being able to watch her delightful grandchildren growing up.
EMILY FORBES is an award-winning author of Mills & Boon Medical Romance. She has written over twenty books and has twice been a finalist in the Australian Romantic Book of the Year Award, which she won in 2013 for her novel Sydney Harbour Hospital: Bella’s Wishlist. You can get in touch with Emily at emilyforbes@internode.on.net (mailto:emilyforbes@internode.on.net), or visit her website at emily-forbesauthor.com (http://www.emily-forbesauthor.com)
Their Forever Family
Her Family for Keeps
Molly Evans
A Father for Poppy
Abigail Gordon
His Little Christmas Miracle
Emily Forbes


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08174-0
THEIR FOREVER FAMILY
Her Family for Keeps © 2015 Molly Evans A Father for Poppy © 2015 Abigail Gordon His Little Christmas Miracle © 2015 Emily Forbes
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Table of Contents
Cover (#u69d2e785-1131-57a1-9728-69a521bd5ffd)
About the Authors (#u5cd49700-2c88-51c9-9489-e666a1ea1157)
Title Page (#ud3411f88-04a0-5c6c-8c1b-58beaa414f0d)
Copyright (#ua1442629-cffc-5bf5-941e-677f36d11297)
Her Family for Keeps (#u89d7662b-15fa-53a7-b422-98ba5a00750c)
CHAPTER ONE (#u4d786447-b0fd-5fb1-ac84-f5df60ee8e25)
CHAPTER TWO (#ue73bcc55-ff01-5b2a-9362-37f9f34bfbcb)
CHAPTER THREE (#u1cc7617f-c366-506e-aeb9-ef7874ad677b)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ub0383c9e-6dcd-5351-8cfc-e291114f3301)
CHAPTER FIVE (#u832d5caf-61cd-58a2-bda7-36202999e2c1)
CHAPTER SIX (#ue66b0c83-c1cc-5857-aec7-d0b6999447d1)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#udfd048b0-2313-5043-a7a7-860a4153926c)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#ue7f5f2a9-f5cc-5952-ae76-c829af4ec498)
CHAPTER NINE (#u4fa78f02-15fe-5f2d-91d1-82e298e56736)
CHAPTER TEN (#uc1f7a129-fc9d-5287-9ab1-1fd149adac6a)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
A Father for Poppy (#litres_trial_promo)
Dedication (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
His Little Christmas Miracle (#litres_trial_promo)
PROLOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Her Family for Keeps (#uae9fe1b6-71bd-54f7-a982-ee012a3dfc84)
Molly Evans

CHAPTER ONE (#uae9fe1b6-71bd-54f7-a982-ee012a3dfc84)
REBEL TAYLOR ROLLED her shoulders against the heat. Sweat tickled and trickled down her back as she crossed the steaming parking lot. It was a very hot day for the first of June, even for New Mexico.
Movement in the backseat of a small sedan drew her attention. As an ER nurse, she was highly trained in skills of observation. Even the smallest detail made the difference between life and death. Frowning, she moved closer to the back window.
Rebel dropped her backpack as she hit full ER nurse mode. “Hello?” She stepped closer and the bottom dropped out of her stomach.
A toddler was strapped in the backseat.
Alone.
“Oh, God.” Panic flooded her, and her limbs went limp for half a second. She looked around at the parking lot full of cars but devoid of people. “Help! Someone help!”
Tugging on the door handle brought her no results. The windows in the front were down a crack, but not enough to squeeze her arm through.
The child’s cries grew into screams as he pulled on his hair. What Rebel had first thought was a seizure was the frustration of the toddler imprisoned in the heat.
“Hold on, baby. Hold on!” She jerked her cellphone out of her pocket and called 911.
Dr. Duncan McFee strolled across the parking lot toward the hospital, but had to pass through the lengthy, car-filled parking area. When the doctors’ car park was full, he parked with the rest of the staff. Heat bubbled up from the black surface and seemed to take on a life of its own, reaching out to drag passersby down into the dark depths. Days like this, he always wondered why he’d passed on that exotic job offer in the Caribbean. An ocean breeze would have been very welcome at the moment. If the desert had an ocean, it would be perfect.
Up ahead, he noticed a woman with long, luxurious, curly red hair who apparently had locked her keys in her car and was bent on beating the life out of it as a result. He decided to see if he could help the lovely damsel in distress. Not every day presented an opportunity to meet such a stunning woman.
“Lock your keys in?” he asked.
She turned, true panic in her incredibly green eyes, and took in a gasping breath. Duncan frowned. Something was wrong with this lady, not just keys locked in her car.
“There’s a baby in there!”
“How long has he been in there?” Duncan dropped his briefcase, instantly understanding her panic.
“I don’t know, but he’s in trouble.”
Duncan knew he needed to get that child out of there. Time was the enemy right now.
“Call 911.”
“I did, but he’ll die before they get here. We’ve got to do something.” She hit the heel of one hand against the window in frustration.
Duncan looked around for a rock or anything he could use to break into the car. People started to gather, attracted by their activity. The woman grabbed the closest person. “Go get Security. We have to break into this car. It’s an emergency. Go!”
The man raced away into the building.
Frustration mounted in Duncan, and he felt the same emotion emanating from this unknown woman. She was obviously a caring and concerned person, as well as stunningly beautiful. She stuck her fingers through the space in the front window and pulled. The window didn’t budge. “Dammit.”
Duncan joined her and managed to slide his fingers in alongside hers. “On three, pull. One, two, three…pull.” Together they put their muscles to work, but the window simply didn’t move. They couldn’t get enough leverage on it.
“Dammit! Where’s Security?” He glared toward the building, but there was no rescue party racing up the hill. “We’re going to have to do this ourselves.” One glance in the backseat was all he needed to realize she was right. The baby would die in the next minute unless he was rescued.
And then what they both feared happened. The child had a seizure, its little limbs jerking uncontrollably in response to the high temperature in the car forcing its body temperature too high. The brain could only take so much before reacting badly.
“There has to be something we can use to smash the window.” The woman glanced around. “There!” She ran a few feet to grab a landscape rock nearly hidden by shrubbery.
“Give it to me.” He took the rock, and she turned her back, but stayed close. With everything, every ounce of strength he had, he smashed the rock into the driver’s window, determined to get this baby free. Never again was he going to let someone die in a car. Not if he could help it.
Glass shattered. She shoved the window in with the heels of her hands and released the door lock. “Got it.”
Duncan yanked open the back door. In the last few seconds the baby had lost consciousness after the seizure. With quick thinking, she released the car-seat clasp and Duncan pulled the child free.
“We have to cool him quickly.” She pulled off his shoes and socks and stripped him down to his diaper.
“Let’s go.” Duncan raced into the ER with the woman at his side. “Pediatric code! Call a pediatric code,” he yelled as they sprinted through the doors, the baby clutched against his chest.
This man was obviously known here and thank heaven for that, Rebel thought as she raced into a treatment room with him, her hand supporting the baby’s head.
Once she had her hands on him, she refused to let go, as if her touch could infuse life into him. Staff arrived quickly and took over the scene. Once on the stretcher, the baby was flaccid, his breathing erratic.
“Get an IV in him.” Duncan gave orders and the staff were already responding. Performing in code situations was something these people did routinely and were obviously accustomed to working together.
Out of her element and uncertain what to do, Rebel wet a towel at the sink and draped it over the boy’s head.
Duncan looked at her with dark brown eyes filled with dangerous anger, and she nearly stepped away. Had she overstepped her boundaries? He didn’t know she was a nurse or that she had any medical knowledge whatsoever.
“Good idea. Cool his brain off.” He gave a grim nod and continued to give orders, orchestrating the scene. After the boy was hooked to the respirator, Duncan took a stethoscope and listened to the little chest as it rose and fell in synchronization with the respirator. “This will rest him a bit.”
Rebel tried not to give in to the awful sense of dread crawling into her limbs and stomach. These heroic efforts may have been too little, too late. The baby had had a grand mal seizure, the worst kind. His immature brain had gotten too hot too fast and might not recover from the insult. Even if he survived, he could have lifelong brain damage.
Rebel pressed her lips together as emotion overwhelmed her. Images of her family flashed into her mind. “We didn’t get to him in time.” He was going to die. Just the way her father and three brothers had.
“We don’t know that yet,” Duncan said, and clasped Rebel’s shoulder in a reassuring gesture that failed to bring any comfort. She knew that no matter how good medical care was, people still died. Her father had been the first, then her brothers. Nothing had been able to stop the disease that had taken them all.
“Time will tell,” she said, defeated by the rescue efforts she knew were probably futile. If there were miracles in the world, they hadn’t been given to her family. Each of her brothers had died a slow, agonizing death, leaving behind holes that could never be filled.
Duncan looked at her as if trying to read something into her words. “Yes. Time will tell.” He moved to the side and drew Rebel with him. “Is this your child?”
“What? No.” Rebel’s eyes widened, surprise on her face. “I just happened to come along at the right time.” She looked away. “I guess it was the right time.”
“I see. Just doing business in the hospital?” He normally didn’t stick his nose into the business of others, but this was an unusual and very traumatic situation. One he wanted to figure out now.
“Actually, I’m here to finish up some pre-employment paperwork. I’m a travel nurse. Start tomorrow.”
They moved into the hallway as the staff finished stabilizing the boy to transfer him to the pediatric ICU. There was always hope. There had to be for him to carry on with this work as a healer, a physician, as a human being. If there was no hope, what was the point in even trying? Even when his fiancée, Valerie, had been near death, he’d had hope she’d survive. Unfortunately, he’d been wrong that time.
“Where will you be working?” Curiosity made him ask.
“Here. In the ER.” The sideways smile she gave said it all.
Duncan nearly chuckled at the irony of the situation, but held back. This was no laughing matter, and he could see in her expression that she thought the same thing. “Quite a trial by fire you hadn’t expected.”
“It’s the life of an ER nurse.”
“Yes, for ER doctors, too. I’m Duncan McFee, one of the physicians here in the ER.” He paused a moment and watched her soulful green eyes follow the child as he was wheeled toward the elevators. “How are your hands?” He gestured for her to hold them out.
“My hands? What do you mean?” She frowned and looked down at them.
“Your palms, I mean.” He placed his strong hands over hers and turned them over. His touch was firm and warm and a little tingle she hadn’t expected rushed through her. “You pushed the glass in with your hands, and I’d like to make sure you don’t have any cuts. Glass can go deep before you even know it.”
“I did? I don’t remember doing that.”
“You did.” He stroked his fingers over the heels of her hands and her palms, using his sensitive fingertips, looking for any irregularities. “Guess we’ll be working together if you stay.” He released her. “Looks good. What’s your name?”
“I’m Rebel Taylor and what do you mean, if I stay?” Rebel raised her brows and leveled her intense eyes on him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good. Then I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t worry about the paperwork. You can finish up in the morning. Go home and de-stress after this. You need it.”
After a deep sigh, Rebel’s shoulders drooped. She knew the benefits of letting go or destressing or whatever you wanted to call it, after such an event. Time to take a breather on duty was often a luxury, rather than the necessity it should be.
“Maybe you’re right.” Conceding felt like weakness, but her mind overrode the emotions. She wasn’t officially an employee yet, so she had no real place here.
“I’ll walk you out. I have to recover my briefcase anyway.”
“I hope it’s still there. My backpack is there, too.” She shook her head, having forgotten about it in the rescue crisis. What a pain that would be to replace all of the items in her wallet if it had been stolen.
“I’m sure it is. This hospital complex doesn’t have a lot of crime and there were plenty of people around.”
As they approached the exit, Duncan turned to her. “So where’d you get such an unusual name? You don’t look like a rebel to me.”
She smiled, some of the tension lifting, even though she recognized his distraction technique. She’d used it many times on her patients, and she appreciated his efforts for her now. “It was something my father gave me when I was a kid. Apparently, as a toddler, I was quite the rebel and the nickname stuck.” She gave him a slant-eyed glance. “My given name is Rebecca, but if you ever call me that, I’ll slap you silly.”
Duncan laughed and some of the tension seemed to let go of him as well.
“Agree.” He offered an arm for her to move ahead of him. “I think Rebel suits you better anyway. Rebecca is too tame for all that wild hair.” Curiously, that hair made him itch to touch it, feel its texture and softness. Check that. Not gonna happen.
They left via the double doors that whooshed open on quiet hydraulics. They approached the parking lot, now alive with police and security.
“Wow.” Rebel looked at the area now packed with fire trucks, rescue vehicles, an ambulance and a police aid directing traffic away from the area. “Guess we’ll have to file a report, won’t we? And someone’s got to find out who that baby belongs to.” The person probably worked in the building and had forgotten to leave their child with the sitter.
From behind them, Rebel heard a gasp. A young woman dashed past them toward the car and the police officer putting up yellow tape.
“What happened to my car?”
The officer faced her. “Is this your vehicle, ma’am?” He set down the crime-scene tape and stepped closer to her, the sun glinting off his reflective sunglasses. He removed them and wiped his forehead.
“Yes, what happened?” She gestured to the mess it had become.
“Can I see some ID?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She dug into her purse as Duncan and Rebel moved closer. “Someone breaks into my car, and I’m the one who has to show ID?” She shook her head in obvious disgust. “I was only at work for half an hour and someone broke into my damned car.”
“We broke into your car,” Duncan said, his voice soft, and Rebel shivered with anticipation as to what his next words would be.
That confession got the officer’s attention, and he looked between Duncan and Rebel, keen eyes putting together the scenario.
“You broke into my car?” The woman looked him up and down, then at Rebel, completely baffled. “Why?”
“Because your son was in there.” Even though his voice was as soft as silk, the words were hard to hear.
Rebel took a deep breath and gritted her teeth, certain she’d have knots in her shoulders later. Duncan held her gaze and gave her a nod and she moved a little closer to him. The close proximity brought her some comfort and feeling some of his strength made her realize she was going to get through this difficult situation. With the power this man exuded, she thought she might just be able to get through anything.

CHAPTER TWO (#uae9fe1b6-71bd-54f7-a982-ee012a3dfc84)
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, my son? Eric’s at daycare.” She swallowed, her blue eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. She looked between Rebel and Dr. McFee trying to figure out if they were telling the truth or if this was some sort of sick joke.
“No, ma’am. Your son was discovered in the backseat of this vehicle.” The officer took her ID from her limp fingers.
“N-no, he wasn’t. He’s at daycare.” She looked at Rebel and Duncan, and then at the car as she put the pieces together and completed the horrifying puzzle.
The back door hung open.
The car seat was empty.
The diaper bag lay upside down on the floor.
She focused on Rebel. “Isn’t he?”
“Did you forget to stop on your way here?” Duncan asked as gently as possible.
“Did I forget…? Of course I didn’t forget.” Anger flared in her face, then was quickly replaced by fear. She began to hyperventilate and her grip on Rebel’s arms loosened.
“Then you left him in the car on purpose?” the officer asked.
“No! I would never…” Her eyelids fluttered.
“She’s going out.” Rebel held on to the woman’s arms as the purse and wallet thudded to the pavement.
“Go get us a gurney,” Duncan instructed the security guard, who ran into the building, and took some of the woman’s body weight from Rebel.
“As soon as she wakes up she’s under arrest,” the officer said, and shoved his shades back on.
“As soon as she wakes up she needs to see her child, so back off.” Dark anger flashed in Duncan’s eyes, and Rebel held her breath.
“She put her kid in mortal danger. He may die.”
“I understand. She’s not going anywhere, so you can arrest her later.”
For the second time in less than an hour Rebel and Duncan entered the ER with an unexpected patient.
“Can you start an IV?” Duncan asked. “The others are working on a new trauma.”
“Yes,” Rebel said, ready to be helpful and hide the fear surfacing in her veins. Facing her fears was what had led her to ER nursing, but some days the fear nearly did her in.
Duncan pointed to the counter behind her. “Supplies are there. Get some saline going.”
In seconds Rebel had everything prepared and inserted an IV into the back of the woman’s hand.
Duncan rummaged in a cabinet beside her. “Aha.” He moved closer to the patient. “Make sure that’s taped down well.”
“Why?”
He held up the small mesh-covered capsule. “Old-fashioned smelling salts.”
“Haven’t seen those used in years.” Thinking outside the box was what kept ER nursing interesting. “Let ‘er rip.”
The instant Duncan popped the capsule with his fingers, the noxious scent invaded the room. He waved it beneath the woman’s nose, and she jerked away.
“Wake up for me,” Duncan said, and patted her cheeks.
“Her name is Amanda Walker.” The police officer arrived from outside with her belongings.
“Amanda? Amanda. Wake up now.” Duncan spoke to her.
Rebel leaned close to Amanda’s ear. “Eric needs you.”
Amanda’s eyelids fluttered, and she jerked away from Duncan’s hands. “Yuck, what is that?” She struggled to wake from unconsciousness and coughed.
“Amanda, I’m Dr. McFee, and you’re in the ER. Do you remember what happened?” Amanda kept her eyes closed and frowned.
“Eric? What about Eric?” She opened eyes that appeared to have no memory of the recent events in the parking lot. Not unusual. The brain provided wonderful coping mechanisms to assist in dealing with emotionally painful situations. None of them were going to help her now.
“You were on the way to work and what happened?”
“What do you mean? I parked and came into work like I always do.” She focused more on Duncan and glared. “Why are you asking about Eric? Did the daycare call?”
“No, ma’am…” Duncan interrupted the officer with a glare. He clenched his jaw, not wanting to verbally castigate the officer when he had a patient on his hands. “No. Daycare didn’t call.”
“I was…No. Is Eric okay? What’s happened?” She tried to sit up. “What’s going on?”
Rebel stepped forward and glanced with hesitation at Duncan. He didn’t know her, had never worked with her before, so he had no reason to trust her or her abilities as a nurse. Then again, he had no reason not to trust her. He nodded.
Rebel placed her hand over Amanda’s with a gentle touch. Compassionate energy pooled around Rebel in such waves that Duncan felt them. This woman was made of tough stuff. So far turning out to be a damned good ER nurse. Gorgeous and smart. Hard combination to find.
“I’m Rebel, one of the nurses. I…discovered Eric…in the back of your car.”
“No, you didn’t.” Amanda shook her head in denial and jerked her hand away from Rebel. “He’s at daycare.” Amanda placed a trembling hand over her mouth and tears spilled from her eyes as trickles of the truth emerged from her subconscious. “You’re scaring me now.” Amanda looked around the room, at the glaring overhead lights, at the medical equipment, at the IV in her arm. Then she took a deep breath.
The wail that followed emerged straight from her soul.
The hair on Duncan’s neck twitched in reaction to the agonizing cry no amount of comfort could touch. He looked at his newest coworker.
Tears overflowed Rebel’s eyes as she stood with hands clenched in front of her. Even the cop turned away.
“N-o-o-o. No. No. No.” She hopped off the gurney, her eyes wild. “You people are crazy! His dad always drops him off.” Her breathing came hard and fast.
“Amanda. Think back to this morning. Was there a change in your routine? Did you deviate…?” Rebel asked questions designed to trigger her memory.
“No!” She pointed a finger at Rebel. “Wait till I call my husband. He’s a lawyer, and he’ll…My husband…is…sick…today.” Amanda collapsed to her knees. Sobs croaked out of her in an unrelenting torrent of realization.
Rebel knelt beside her. “What happened? Can you tell me?”
“His office has daycare.” She huffed in a few breaths. “He always takes Eric. Always.”
“And he’s home sick today?”
Amanda nodded, then slumped over onto the floor. “I killed my son! Oh, God, I killed my son.”
“Eric is alive, Amanda. He’s not dead.”
Amanda sat up and grabbed Rebel by the shoulders. “You found him in time?” She hauled Rebel into an exuberant hug. “Oh, my God.” Now, sobs of relief overflowed. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
Rebel placed her arms around Amanda and looked at Duncan. Those beautiful green eyes of hers pleaded for his help and something inside him emerged. Whether it was the trained physician in him, the male protector of women and children, or he was just reacting to the pain in Rebel’s face, he didn’t know. He just knew he had to respond.
“Amanda, sit up. I’ll tell you about Eric, then we’ll take you to see him.” He assisted her to her feet, protecting Rebel from being overwhelmed. He offered a hand down to Rebel and brought her by his side. His instinct was to place his arm around her waist, to shield her from the pain they both knew was yet to come, knowing the story before it was even told. Instead, he took Rebel’s hand and led her to a chair. She was pale and her hand was clammy. Though she didn’t look it on the outside, he knew she was having great difficulty with this situation. Officially she wasn’t even an employee, and she’d gone above and beyond what was expected of her. She could just as easily have walked away, but she hadn’t. What heart she must have.
Duncan placed his hands on the shoulders of the sobbing woman. This was going to bite. “Amanda, pull yourself together. You need to be strong for Eric. Now take a breath and stop crying.”
In a few minutes she’d managed to subdue her emotions. Tears still dribbled from her eyes, but she could look at him. That was a start.
As the noon hour approached, Rebel felt about a hundred years older than her actual thirty. Days like this were why people left healthcare. Some days being a nurse just wasn’t worth it.
She’d been sitting outside the PICU where Eric had been taken. She didn’t know why, but she didn’t want to leave just yet. Dr. McHunky had taken the mother inside to see Eric.
Rebel had plopped herself into a chair outside the unit and hadn’t been able to get up. Sitting outside an intensive care unit brought back so many overwhelming memories it shut her down. For years she’d been an unwilling participant in her family’s inherited illness, Huntington’s disease. Watching her brothers struggle to survive had forced her to grow up too quickly, to be too old too soon, to leave childhood behind too early. Events like today sucked her back in time to when she had been a frightened little girl watching her family be taken from her one by one.
The door to the unit swung open, and she shoved aside her past to dive into the present again. That’s what adrenal glands were for, right? Surges of adrenaline kept her going from one crisis to another in the ER, and that ability didn’t fail her now.
“So, how is he, Doctor?”
“It’s Duncan, please.” Though he patted her on the shoulder in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture, he looked as if he needed some comforting himself.
“Okay, Duncan. First tell me how he is then tell me how you are. You look like someone beat you with a hammer.” Lines of what could be grief or fatigue showed on his face. Though it was mid-morning, he looked like he’d been up all night.
A small smile twisted his lips and a little relief appeared in her eyes. Mission accomplished.
“I feel like someone beat me with a hammer.” He looked at his watch. “And it’s not even lunch yet.” He took a deep breath and let it out in a very long sigh. “I’ll be okay. I think. Eric’s critical, on a vent, the works. I’ve never seen so many tubes hooked up to a kid that size, and I thought I’d seen it all.”
“I’m so sorry.” She gave his arm a squeeze, intending to offer him some of the comfort she’d offer to any of her patients and families. His arm beneath her hand was warm and firm. Though this child wasn’t related to either of them, he was special and bonded the two of them together.
Duncan turned his dark-eyed focus fully on her, and she gulped at the intensity of him. When he focused on something, it was something else. His dark, dark eyes seemed to have no pupils. His aura nearly reached out to her, like some invisible cloak trying to cocoon her into its warmth.
“And how are you holding up?”
“I’m okay, I guess.” She shrugged. “Are you ever okay after an event like this?” She’d been through many traumas in her career as an ER nurse and some patient situations stuck with her, no matter how long ago they’d happened.
“You might want to go home. The paperwork for employment can wait until tomorrow.”
“I’m good, really—” Denial had gotten her through many tough situations in life, why not one more?
He gave her such a doctor look, knowing she wasn’t all right, knowing she’d been through the wringer today, and knowing she wasn’t telling the truth, that she actually felt a flash of shame.
“Rebel. We don’t always have time to shake off the vibes from work while in the midst of it. Take the time to relax and shake this off.” Duncan spoke like a man who had been on the front line of healthcare for a long time. That kind of experience didn’t come without a toll on the body and the psyche.
“Thanks. You’re right.” She nodded. “I usually like to meet with the charge nurse the day before I start and introduce myself to see who I’m going to be working with. Stuff like that.”
Duncan gave a snort as the elevator doors whooshed open. “I think you’ve had quite an introduction already. The entire staff knows who you are by now, so just go home. I’ll tell Herm.”
“If you’re sure it’s going to be okay…”
“It’ll be fine.” The elevators took them to the first floor, and they exited. “Today is an admin day for me, so I’m going to do the bare essentials and head to the gym. Always helps me blow off the stress of the day.”
“My apartment complex has a pool. Maybe I’ll take a swim.”
“Good idea. Don’t forget the sunscreen. At this elevation the rays are more intense. See you tomorrow.” He’d hate to see all that luscious skin damaged by the sun. It was beautiful and she obviously worked to keep it that way.
Rebel turned and held out her hand. Duncan took it. “I’d like to say it was a pleasure to meet you, but I’m not sure that’s the right thing to say.” She met his eyes and held his gaze. This was a very interesting man. Unfortunately, she hadn’t come here to be sidetracked by gorgeous doctors. Men and emotional relationships didn’t go with her long-term goals, so there was no use in establishing a short-term one either. Men were fine as friends and the occasional lover. Too many times she’d counted on a man and had been disappointed. She needed to be in control and if she were in a relationship, she lost that. Plain and simple.
“How about ‘See you tomorrow’?”
“Good enough.” They shook hands, and Rebel untangled her sunglasses from on top of her head and walked out into the bright June sunlight, determined to make it to her car before another disaster happened.
Hitching her backpack across one shoulder, she tried not to look at the scene of where they had found Eric. That, like so many other bad memories, already had a permanent place in her brain.
Thoughts of Duncan, however, lingered. How would it be to work side by side with such a dynamic man? She’d worked in many types of hospitals and clinics, and there had been plenty of handsome doctors to be had, but this one was different. Somehow, deep in her gut, she knew something was different about Duncan, and she itched to know what it was. Could it be that the intensity of the situation they’d just been through was making her see things that weren’t there?
She didn’t think so, as she’d been through many tough situations with many doctors in the past. Today, however, made her think more about what it would be like to have a man like that around her more often.
Those dark, dangerous eyes of his remained in her mind.

CHAPTER THREE (#uae9fe1b6-71bd-54f7-a982-ee012a3dfc84)
THE NEXT DAY dawned as bright and shiny as any she’d ever seen.
Until she arrived just before her morning shift to find the ER in complete chaos. This ER was shaping up to be just like most of the ones she’d worked in. Either it was complete bedlam, or the staff were falling asleep from sheer boredom.
She took a deep breath, shoved her backpack beneath the desk and hurried to the first busy room she found. “I’m your new traveler. Someone give me a job.”
A Hispanic man strode over to her with his glasses perched precariously on top of his graying hair and shoved a clipboard into her hands. “Here. Run the code. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
Gulp. Running a code within thirty seconds of arriving. That was a record, but this was something she was fully capable of managing. She squeezed behind staff members who were performing all kinds of tasks around a patient who had been in a traumatic accident.
She looked at the clipboard. Pedestrian. Hit by a high-speed vehicle, thrown forty feet in the air. Possible neck and spine injuries. Probable head injury. Punctured one lung. Blood in the abdomen.
If he survived, he’d spend the next year in rehab all because someone hadn’t looked both ways. She read the cardiac monitor. His heart rate was fast, rhythm good.
“What do you need next, Doctor?” She hadn’t met any of the physicians yet, so she didn’t know who she was working with.
“Glad you’re here, Rebel. Call Radiology. Need a chest X-ray, abdominal films.” She knew the voice and a little bit of her relaxed, and a little of her got excited at the compliment. Although she couldn’t see his face behind the mask and goggles, she knew Duncan was in charge of this case. The sound of his voice was reassuring and made a funny squiggle in the pit of her stomach at the same time. The man had definitely made an impact on her senses yesterday.
“Got it.” She turned to the phone on the wall. Fortunately, there was an extensive phone list posted nearby. After the first call, she checked the monitor again. The heart rhythm had changed. Not looking good.
“Doctor. He’s had a rhythm change.”
Duncan twisted around and looked at it for himself. “Dammit. I was hoping we could get him to the OR before he crashed. Get a chest tube set up.”
She set the clipboard down. “Where are they?”
“There. One of the other nurses pointed to a cabinet right behind Duncan. Rebel squished her way through the bodies in the room to fetch the sterile tray, dropped it onto a portable tray table, opened it, and donned sterile gloves.
“I’m back.” The man who had given her the clipboard returned to take over.
“We’re putting a chest tube in on the left.” Rebel called out the information so he could catch up to where they were in the situation and record it. “Rhythm is V-tach. Rate one-eighty.” She prepared to assist Duncan with the procedure. Duncan removed his gloves, and she held out a new, sterile pair for him. A collapsed lung would be deadly along with all of his other injuries.
After insertion, blood poured through the tubing into the collection container and the heart monitor settled down. Rebel drew a deep breath. Yet another save before eight in the morning by a doctor she was coming to have confidence in very rapidly. “Good going, Doc.”
The only response was a connecting of glances and a nod. The tension of the code dwindled as the patient stabilized and was being prepared for transfer to the operating room for surgery.
“Rebel, right? What a name. I’m Hermano Vega, but call me Herm. I’m the charge nurse in this madhouse for today. You’re with me for orientation. The others can get him upstairs.”
Rebel shook his hand, liking his gentle, fatherly demeanor immediately. “Nice to meet you.”
“Quite the first day, no?” He echoed Duncan’s statement from earlier. “Come on. Let’s get you settled.” He turned and motioned for her to follow. Though she looked back as Duncan removed his protective gear, she went along with Herm. Somehow that man had gotten under her skin, and they’d only met yesterday.
“Great. What sort of torture do you have planned for me this morning?” There was always torture involved at the beginning of a new assignment.
Herm gave her a stern look over his glasses, and her gut twisted a little. Maybe she was being too flip too soon. Eek.
“The evil policy and procedure manual.”
Rebel relaxed. Yep. This was going to be just like every other ER she’d worked in. Torture with orientation material then release her to the wild.
“You’ve got the expedited orientation training to go through for travelers. Fire safety, infection control, HIPPA, etcetera. All online now. I’ll set you up with a computer terminal then we can talk about your schedule.” Schedule. The most important thing to keep staff happy. Aside from payday. And good coffee.
“Got it.” She looked around the station. “Is there by chance a cup of coffee somewhere I could snag first?”
“Oh, sure.” He gave a nod down the hall. “Grab what you need, then back here for the mind-meld the rest of the day. If you get it all done today, you can go home early.”
“Awesome.”
Rebel wandered down the hall to the staff-only area and the crazed energy of the main unit eased a bit until she opened the door to the small lounge. Then her heart fluttered when she saw Duncan in his blue scrubs, coffee in hand, leaning against the counter.
His eyes were closed, and he seemed lost in his thoughts. She paused a moment, uncertain whether or not to disturb him, but the smell of coffee called to her.
“Come in. I know someone’s there. I’m just perfecting my sleeping while standing up technique.”
With a little smile, Rebel entered the lounge. “I thought that’s what you were doing. Maybe you can give me some pointers for the next time I work a stretch of night shifts.”
Duncan opened his eyes a little, glad to hear her voice free of tension. Obviously she’d been able to let the stress of yesterday go. That was a good thing. Today she looked as gorgeous as she had yesterday. But her hair was up in a clip with little strands handing down to tease her face. He had to resist the urge to push some of that mass back behind her ear. Those weren’t the kinds of thoughts he should be having about a new coworker, but he seemed powerless to resist. He cleared his throat. “Not scared off after yesterday and walking into that trauma today?”
“Nope. You?”
“Nah.” His smile was self-deprecating. “I grew up with four sisters, four brothers and twenty-five cousins. I saw more trauma and drama than you’d guess by the time I was twelve.”
“I see. That’s a huge family.” Indeed. Hers had dwindled down to just her mother and herself, with a few cousins in the Mid-West somewhere.
“I’m guessing you didn’t come in here to chat, but need some liquid fortitude to get through the rest of the day Herm has planned for you.” He raised his coffee cup toward her.
“Psychic, too.” She nodded. “I’m impressed by your extensive set of unusual skills.”
Playful and flirtatious, she appealed to his lighter side. Duncan shoved away from the counter and poured her a cup of coffee, then handed it to her. “Additives are over there.” He indicated the powdered creamer and sweetener selection on the counter.
“Sorry, I’m a creamer snob.” She pulled out her own stash of flavored creamer and added it to the mug.
“Good to know.” He grinned.
Rebel noticed that Duncan watched her intently as she prepared her coffee. She wasn’t accustomed to such attention and she was a little uncomfortable with it. She’d spent years avoiding the intimacy of relationships, apart from a very occasional and very brief fling. Right now she wasn’t certain whether she was appreciative of, or offended by, Duncan’s focus.
The silence that hung between them went on for a few seconds too long as she ran out of things to say. Her charm only lasted so long.
“Well, I’d better go before Herm thinks I’ve run off.” She raised her mug. “Thanks.” Dropping her gaze away from him, she headed out to the safety of the unit and the dreariness of orientation.
Rebel sat in a corner of the ER away from the hustle and bustle around her, answering the incessant questions of the computer program. Have you located the fire alarms and fire extinguishers in your area?
She clicked “Yes,” although she was pretty certain she’d just raced by them on the way to the trauma this morning. That counted, didn’t it?
Staff occasionally would give her a wave, but no one stopped to chat. She supposed that was best for the moment. The next three months would give her plenty of time to make friends. These relationships were only temporary, lasting only as long as her assignment, then she moved on, to another hospital, another set of temporary friends, to relive the same life over and over again.
This lifestyle was one she’d chosen after losing most of her family to Huntington’s disease. There had been no hope for her father or three brothers, and they hadn’t even known it. Here, at least, she could save someone once in a while. Like yesterday.
Herm peeked in on her after a few hours. “Had enough yet?”
“Have a barf bag?” Humor in the workplace was a necessity for survival.
“Enough said. Come with me.” Rebel followed him to the nurses’ station and wondered what it was that he had for her to do.
“Am I going to like this job?”
Herm peered at her over his glasses again. A gesture she was coming to associate with him. Kind of like a beloved teacher overlooking his charges.
“Hard to say, but one set of papers is a follow-up from yesterday and then a scavenger hunt.” He handed the papers to her. “The ER is required to follow up on patients to see how successful our efforts have been.”
“I’m not quite getting that.”
“Did the patient survive the first twenty-four hours, any infections, any further injuries as a result of being resuscitated? Those sorts of questions that risk management people love to drool over.”
“Okay, now I’m with you.” She took the paper. It was filled front and back with questions. The flow chart from hell.
“See if you can find these departments without cheating, then you can take lunch. Cafeteria’s pretty good, coffee shop is close by, then come back up here.”
“Got it.”
Rebel didn’t know how, but she knew the instant Duncan approached them. Whether it was his energy, his cologne or some unknown force she was attuned to, she turned slightly, already knowing he would be there. Maybe it was having gone through the situation together yesterday, but she felt a strange connection to him. She was probably imagining things. Men like Duncan didn’t go for women like her. That was for sure. He was too much, too exciting, too dynamic, too over the top for a woman like her.
The same scenario had played out over and over on various travel assignments. Dashing doctor and super-nurse work side by side, saving lives, and one day they discover a new spark that has nothing to do with work and everything to do with the heat crackling between them. She’d seen it dozens of times, but it had never happened to her.
She rolled her shoulders against the twinge of guilt that nestled uncomfortably there. If she was honest with herself, it wasn’t that she hadn’t had opportunities, she’d run from them when someone had wanted to get close to her. Right now, it didn’t matter. Duncan was here to do a job, just like her. It didn’t matter how handsome he was or how much her heart fluttered when she thought of him.
In some dark place deep down inside her, if she was really, really honest, she’d admit that something about Duncan made her want to stop running, to take a chance on a relationship, see if there was a man who could love her despite the problems of her past, someone who would just love her and not worry about the time bomb ticking inside her. Loving someone again who would then reject her because of something inside her would be her worst nightmare.
Looking down into that place scared her. Made her afraid no one would be able to love her the way she needed to be loved. A man like Duncan made her want to take a chance.

CHAPTER FOUR (#uae9fe1b6-71bd-54f7-a982-ee012a3dfc84)
“OH—HI, DOC. Maybe you can help, too.” Herm included Duncan in the conversation, and Rebel turned toward him. Yes, he was definitely as handsome in scrubs as he was in street clothing. Possibly more, because scrubs had a way of stripping a person down to their basics—no frills or high-priced clothing to hide behind. From her first encounter with Duncan, she’d concluded he certainly had that. He didn’t skimp on his clothing. Not that she minded. She did admire a sharp-dressed man.
“Sure. What is it?” He stepped a little closer, and Rebel’s senses squealed. Oh, the man was too close for comfort. Though she could talk herself out of engaging in any sort of liaison with him, her senses reacted on their own volition.
Duncan looked at Rebel. She was tall, nearly as tall as he, and he could meet her clear green eyes almost head-on. Curious that she didn’t realize how attractive she was. Maybe she’d been burned, just like him. He gave a mental shake. No one had been burned like him. The arguments, the fights. And then the wreck. That was something he’d never get over. Refocusing, he looked away from Rebel.
“It’s a follow-up on the boy you two rescued yesterday. Within twenty-four hours we need to lay eyes on them.” Herm muttered a few things under his breath. Probably about more documentation. Seemed it was the same situation everywhere in healthcare. Do more with less.
“Sure. I thought about him most of the night.”
“Me, too.” Rebel admitted what had kept her from having a good night’s sleep, other than first-day jitters and thoughts of Duncan. She took the paperwork, and Herm pointed to the brightly colored map in her hands.
“That’s the scavenger hunt. Find these places in the hospital so when you need to know where they are at three a.m., you can find them.” He glared at Duncan. “No helping her.”
“Who, me?” Duncan placed a hand on his chest and raised his eyebrows and, despite herself, Rebel responded to his light-hearted attitude. It was so essential for their work. How could she not?
“Yes, you. Get out of here for a while and take a break.” Herm turned away as another staff member called for his attention.
With papers in hand, Rebel drifted toward the exit and Duncan moved with her. “You’ll have to lead the way, I don’t even know how to get to the PICU yet.” Rebel kept her gaze on the papers, not really seeing the words. She was suddenly atwitter at spending time with Duncan. He was her coworker, but he was also a disturbingly handsome man. And one who smelled like a dream.
“This way.” He ushered her with one arm ahead of him, as if he were escorting her. “We’ll take the staff elevators to the fifth floor. PICU is up there.” Duncan swiped his badge to call the elevator.
In just a few seconds they entered the empty car, and Rebel pushed the button. The idea of staff elevators appealed to Rebel. They helped keep the staff separated from the visitors at important times. Taking a bloodied and battered patient upstairs in view of the public did not make for good surveys. And it also protected patients’ privacy.
Nervous, she kept her eyes focused on her papers. They arrived at the PICU and approached Eric’s room. Duncan had gone quiet beside her, his energy dark and serious. His anticipation of what they would find was palpable, and she reacted in much the same way.
Nothing was ever quiet in an ICU. Bleeps, alarms, and the noise of respirators, although quiet in and of themselves, together made quite a racket.
A nurse in cartoon scrubs and a bouncy blond ponytail approached. “Can I help you?” She was perky in a way Rebel could never hope to be. Her skin was flawless, and she had applied just the right amount of makeup to enhance her features. She was buxom and curvy, where Rebel barely had breasts. Or at least that’s what she felt like sometimes. This was the kind of woman Duncan probably went for, not someone as uninteresting as her. She didn’t wear much makeup, her hair kept its own schedule of events, and she didn’t have a curves in the places men liked. Even though she had flaming red hair, she thought it was a detractor. Men like Duncan didn’t go for women like her, but then again she didn’t date, so it didn’t matter, and she needed to focus on things other than her dashing coworker.
The nurse’s bright blue eyes looked between them as she spoke, but lingered on Duncan. Rebel could hardly blame her, he was something the eyes could linger on and not become fatigued.
“We have some paperwork to fill out for the ER as follow-up to see how Eric’s doing,” Rebel said, focusing once again on the task at hand, the only reason she was here with Duncan.
“Oh, you must have been the first responders.” A light of sympathy entered her blue eyes. “I heard about your efforts in report this morning.” She pouted out her lower lip and placed a gentle hand on Rebel’s arm.
“Yes, we were.” She looked at Duncan, who seemed impervious to Becky’s beauty and sympathetic manner. Maybe he already had a squeeze on the side and wasn’t interested in anyone else. She mentally yanked herself back. Maybe it was none of her business.
“How awful it must have been to find him.”
“Yes, it certainly was a shock.” Rebel showed Becky the form. “Can you give us an update?”
“Sure.”
Duncan observed the interaction between the two nurses who couldn’t possibly be more different in looks. Though Becky was certainly attractive, his gaze kept returning to Rebel. What an unusual woman she was. Of course, he’d run across unusual women before, but there was something about Rebel that kept taking his mind down a path he’d sworn never to go down again. Romance and dating was something he’d thought had died when his fiancée had been killed. His interest in sex had been on hiatus, but now was beginning to return as he watched Rebel beside him.
“Excuse me. I want to go see him first.” He stepped forward, leaving the two nurses to do the paperwork.
Rebel watched as he placed a hand on Amanda’s back, startling her from sleep in the chair. He exuded compassion and Rebel swallowed hard, crushing down the memory of being on the receiving end of such a gesture some years ago.
In a few minutes, Duncan returned, the lines in his face serious. “Can you tell me where your intensivist is? I’d like to speak to him or her.”
“Her. Dr. Barb Simmons. She’s in the charting room behind the nurses’ station. Drop-dead gorgeous blonde. Can’t miss her.”
With only a nod and no lingering glances of interest, Duncan left them.
“Let’s see your paperwork. I can help you fill it out,” Becky said.
As Rebel stretched out her arm to hand the paperwork to Becky, her arm seemed to go numb, and she lost her grip on the pages. They fluttered to the floor. “Oh, rats!” Hastily, she grabbed them and shuffled them back together. “Sorry about that. Lost my grip for some reason.” She knew the likely reason and it frightened her more than anything in the world. She was starting to show symptoms of the disease.
“That’s okay,” Becky said, and opened her bedside computer chart, distracting Rebel from her self-focus. Becky’s fingers flew over the keyboard and pulled up the data on Eric’s case.
“Any sense of how he’s doing overall?” Rebel asked, nurse to nurse. Experienced nurses developed senses that couldn’t be learned in a classroom or in books.
“Well, he’s deeply sedated right now.” She gave another sympathetic look. “I hate to even give you a guess because patients surprise me all the time. These little ones are so amazing. They spring back when you least expect it.” She sighed. “Then again, they take a downturn just as fast.” She gave that pout again. Once, Rebel got, twice was just unattractive.
“Thanks.” She looked behind Becky. “Can I go in and see him?”
“Absolutely. Just let me know if you need anything.”
Rebel could see Amanda half sitting on a chair, half lying on the bed beside Eric. Across the room a man sat with a computer on his lap, leaning back in his chair, fast asleep. “Amanda?”
The mother turned to Rebel, her face splotchy and swollen. “Yes?”
“It’s Rebel, the nurse from the ER.” She knelt beside the bed and placed her hand on Amanda’s back, the same way Duncan had. “I came to see how you and Eric are doing.” The words sounded trite. After all, how could any of them be doing after such a life-altering event?
“He’s going to die. I know it.” Her voice was just a whisper that spoke to Rebel’s soul, which had seen so much pain in her own family. Somehow, there had to be hope, even if it was just a little.
Trying to be encouraging without giving false hope was a tricky dance. “I just reviewed his chart with Nurse Becky and things look pretty stable right now.” That was the truth. At least for the moment.
“Then why hasn’t he opened his eyes? Why doesn’t he respond to me?” Frustration shot out of her like electricity.
“He’s being heavily sedated. When kids are on the respirator they get wiggly and won’t let the machine do the work.” That was true, too.
“Why didn’t anyone explain this to me?” She raked a hand through her hair in frustration then clenched her fists in her lap. She looked as if she wanted to hit something.
Rebel knew this information had likely been explained more than once, but due to stress of the event she hadn’t remembered it.
“Just keep talking to him. He can hear you.” Hearing was the last sense to leave before death. People who returned from seemingly unrecoverable events often did, and were able to relate stories of hearing everything going on around them but being unable to respond at the time.
“I didn’t know whether he could hear me or not.”
“He does. Just give him your love. Just let him hear your voice.” That was the one hope she’d held on to when her brothers had died, that they had heard her voice and had known she loved them. “He may not respond to you right now, but he will hear you. It will be your voice he recognizes and responds to. If anything is going to pull him out of this, it will be you.”
“Really?” Shocked, Amanda looked at her child, then back at Rebel, trying to determine the truth.
“I’ve worked with many patients who have awakened from comas, and that’s the thing they all had in common. They heard their families and knew there was someone with them.”
“Do you think he can…make it?” She pushed her hair out of her face.
“I don’t know, but for me to go on as a nurse I need to have some hope.” Rebel squeezed Amanda’s hands as she echoed Duncan’s sentiment and choked down her own emotion that wanted to swallow her whole. This moment was not about her own grief and loss but about the recovery of Amanda’s child. “It’s never easy, but don’t give up.”
“I don’t want to…but I’m not getting much support…” she glanced at her husband “.from anyone.”
“Men like to fix things and feel powerless when they can’t.” She thought about Duncan. He was definitely a fixer.
“You are observant.” Amanda offered a smile at that bit of wisdom.
She leaned over and spoke into Eric’s ear, then gave him a kiss on the forehead, careful not to bump any of his tubes. “Just remember, there is always hope.”
Eagerness and a little hope now showed on Amanda’s face.
“I will.” She stroked Eric’s forehead. “I’ll talk to him all the time now. Thank you.” Tears welled again in Amanda’s eyes. “Thank you. You’ve given me more hope than I’ve had since this all happened.”
Unable to bear the onslaught of emotions dredged to the surface by this situation, Rebel pushed them aside. She backed away before she lost control and turned to dash out the door.
And ran right into Duncan’s arms.

CHAPTER FIVE (#uae9fe1b6-71bd-54f7-a982-ee012a3dfc84)
DUNCAN REACHED OUT just as Rebel crashed into him. The only way he would not bowl her over was to grab hold of her hips and bring her close against him. The papers in her hands flew into the air and seemed to drift in slow motion to the floor.
He pulled her against his hips with one arm and braced them against the doorframe with the other. Eyes wide in shock, she clutched his upper arms with both hands and caught her breath with a squeal.
With her trim frame and lower body weight, she would certainly have bounced off of him and landed on the floor had he not caught her. Now that he had caught her, he found himself in a very interesting position. Holding her was inappropriate, yet letting go of her seemed equally so. She was tiny beneath the figure-erasing scrubs. It was a crime against man to cover up such a beautiful body. He looked down at her and realized that if he’d wanted to kiss her, she was in the perfect position to do so.
He watched as she licked her lips and pressed them together. What an enticing mouth she had. Unfortunately, he had to release her before any opportunity to taste those lips occurred. As a man experienced in the ways of romantic coworker relationships, that was a treat best left unsavored. “Sorry about that. Are you okay?” Reluctantly, he released her. With some amusement he watched a vivid blush cruise up to her neck and into her cheeks. She was not as unaffected as she pretended to be. Interesting. Off limits, but very interesting.
“Yes, sorry about that.”
They retrieved her paperwork, and she shuffled it back in place. They left the room with a respectable two-foot distance between them. Duncan had had enough of losing the women in his life. His mother, a sister and his fiancée. The last one had about killed him, and he’d sworn off of emotional relationships for a while to rest his heart and soul. Rebel was the most interesting woman he’d run across in a long time and, still, he hesitated. That last relationship had burned him to the core, and he hadn’t really recovered from it. She’d been a colleague, too. He paused, thinking. Perhaps it was time he at least tested the waters again.
“It’s Duncan, please. And it was just a little accident of timing. No fault.”
She cleared her throat, focusing on the tile pattern on the floor. “So are you going to help me cheat on this scavenger hunt, or what?” She quickly diverted the conversation.
“No.” He snorted. As if. But he did like a challenge.
Her gaze flashed to him. “No? So how am I going to get through all of this without dying of hunger or thirst? We are in a desert, you know.”
He gave a quick laugh. He liked humor in his coworkers. Made shifts a lot more interesting. And it was safer than where his thoughts had been going. “Isn’t there a map on there?”
Now she snorted. “If you can call it that. The copier must have run out of toner at an inopportune time. I need a GPS to get through this hospital.”
“If you can navigate to the cafeteria I’ll buy you some lunch.” His stomach had been reminding him of his skimpy breakfast for some time now.
“You’re on.” She started toward the elevators, and he followed along behind, admiring the view. Puzzled, he frowned as he observed her gait and the way she moved her body.
“What do you do?” Now, more curious than ever, he began to ignore that finely tuned alarm system in his head. Pursuing her might be worth the pain.
She hit the elevator button. “Do about what?”
“For exercise. Working out.” He gave her a once-over glance and liked what he saw. “The way you walk and the way you carry yourself is different. I can usually pick out how a person stays fit by the way they move and their body shape. It’s a little game I play with myself. Swimmers look one way, runners look another way, cyclists another way, but you I can’t figure out.” The feel of her body beneath those scrubs had been firm, yet still very feminine. “You aren’t a body-builder either.” He frowned and tried not to ogle her in public. Administration wasn’t kidding about sexual harassment.
At that, a genuine grin covered her face. “Yoga.” She stood on one foot and clasped her hands together over her head with the paperwork flattened between her palms. “Like this.”
“Yoga?” He glanced over her again, dumbfounded. “Really? Just yoga? I thought you just sat in impossible situations and chanted to the universe for enlightenment.”
Rebel laughed. “That would be meditation. You should try yoga sometime. Strengthens the mind and spirit as well as the body.” She resumed her standing position without even a wobble. Show-off.
Duncan tried to mimic her pose and was able to get his hands over his head, but standing on one foot at the same time was not happening, and he almost crashed into the wall. Very uncool.
“I’m a more brute strength, linear kind of guy, like running, hiking, that sort of stuff. If I have to think about it too much, I won’t do it.” He laughed. “Just put me on a bike in a straight line, and I’m good.”
“So how do you get back, then, if you just go in a straight line?”
He laughed, liking her quick wit. “Eventually, I stop, turn around and go in another straight line until I’m back where I started.”
“You need to expand your horizons, Doctor.”
“I like skiing.”
“Skiing in the desert—really?” The bemused look on her face betrayed her skepticism at his statement.
“Yes. Ice hockey, too. You’d be surprised what kind of landscape the desert has to offer. We’re considered high desert since we’re higher in elevation than other desert areas of the southwest.”
“Oh, so not like Phoenix or Death Valley?”
“Right. Way too hot for me. Went there for a conference once and about cooked my brain.”
The elevator arrived, and they were off on the scavenger hunt. Rebel successfully negotiated her way to the blood bank, lab, central supply, and finally to the cafeteria.
Duncan sniffed appreciably. “I can smell the green chili from here.” He closed his eyes, savoring a fond memory. “I’m in the mood for green chili cheese fries, how about you?”
“What’s that?” Innocent curiosity showed in that gorgeous face of hers. Stunned, Duncan looked at her. She was serious.
“You’ve never heard of green chili cheese fries?”
“Nope. Or green chili anything.” Duncan’s jaw dropped, and he swore his heart skipped several important beats. He may have seen stars, but he wasn’t certain. “I think I may have a coronary right now.” He placed a hand over his chest. “Get the AED.”
“Why? What did I say?” Eyes wide with concern, she pressed her lips together. “Did I say something totally stupid?”
“I know you’re new in town, but green chili is the number one agricultural crop of the entire state and has been the foundation for my family’s holdings for the last two hundred years.” He took a breath and frowned. “My grandfather should never, ever, hear you don’t know what green chili is or it could start another highland war.”
“Oh, is that all?” She turned away.
“What?” Stunned, he froze in place.
“Kidding.” She gave a sly grin over her shoulder. “Got it. Important stuff around here.”
“And, besides that, it tastes really, really good.”
“Okay, can we get some, then?”
“Absolutely. Your orientation would not be complete without a sampling of green chili cheese fries.” Another sign of her adventurous spirit if she was willing to try an unknown food on his recommendation. That was very attractive to him. But he remembered his fiancée had also had an adventurous spirit and look where that had left them. Her dead. Him with a broken heart.
Minutes later, they had a pile of steaming French fries in front of them, topped with green chili sauce and shredded cheddar cheese. The consistency of gravy, the sauce was absolutely amazing, as far as Duncan was concerned, and he was an expert.
“If you don’t like this, I’m afraid your contract will have to be terminated.”
“Oh, give me a break, it will not.” She gave the first natural-sounding laugh he’d heard out of her since they’d met. That was a good sign. This was fun, showing her something she’d never seen or even heard of before. Gave him new appreciation of it, too, to experience it again through her eyes, and his heart lightened.
Duncan watched as Rebel took a fry, dripping in chili sauce and cheese, and put it in her mouth. She closed her eyes as she chewed. What was it about eating a meal with some people that was so erotic? He didn’t care as he took in how Rebel’s face changed and her eyes popped open, surprise filling those incredible green eyes of hers. His mouth began to water and it wasn’t for food but a taste of her. Even against his better judgment, the longer he spent with her, the more intrigued he became. Could he engage in a casual relationship with her, knowing she’d leave in a few months? Could they have a simple, sexual relationship and let the rest go? It was worth thinking about.
“That is spectacular. You’re gonna have to get your own, pal, ‘cos I’m not sharing.” She slid the plate closer to her.
“I’ll tell Herm you cheated.” He slid the plate in front of him.
“I did not.” The plate returned to Rebel.
“Who’s he gonna believe, you or me?” Duncan reached for the plate but Rebel narrowed her eyes and held on to it. “You are evil. And I believe that’s blackmail.”
“Then you have to share.” He slid the plate into the middle again. “And it’s actually extortion.” He shrugged at her look. “Got a cousin who’s a lawyer.”
“Fine. But you know what they say about payback.”
“I do. And it is.” He grinned and dug his fork into the bliss on the plate, deciding to shove away thoughts of a casual sexual relationship for the moment.
“So you have a hobby farm?”
Duncan tried not to choke at her description. “If you can call ten thousand acres a hobby farm.” That was in Hatch, New Mexico alone. Cousins in surrounding areas worked ranches half that size, but every acre produced quality chili in dozens of varieties.
“Shut. Up.” Disbelief covered her face.
“I will not. I’m highly offended at that.” Not.
“I mean, really?” She paused and looked at the chili on her fork. “Is this from your…ranch?”
“Probably. We ship all over the world.”
“I’d love to see this place.”
“I’d love to show it to you.” Showing off the family estate was a piece of cake, and he’d taken a few lady friends there. Unfortunately, once they’d seen the size of his family holdings, they’d changed, expected more out of him and offered less. Sharing the money was part of the reason he enjoyed it. He was just a regular guy whose family had created wealth by working hard. His fiancée hadn’t cared, and it hadn’t changed their relationship, but she’d been an exceptional woman. She’d been his friend as well as his lover. And he missed that, wanted it again. But was he as appealing on his own without the draw of the wealth? With some women he hadn’t known, but it had been a factor over and over again, enough to make him hesitate, less likely to take risks on a woman. Especially with a woman who might not even be around in a few months.
He wanted a woman who had heart and soul and a passion for living that equaled his own. So if he was honest with himself, he wanted the whole package, the soulmate deal, not just a sexy roommate he had nothing else in common with.
“It’s obviously not here in town.” Rebel’s statement brought him back to the conversation.
“No. South of here. Just follow the river and stop before you hit Mexico.” A place his heart lived.
“Cool. Maybe someday I can see it. I love to take day trips when I’m on my assignments to see places I never would be able to otherwise.”
Just as Duncan put a forkful of the heavenly stuff in his mouth, his phone received an emergency text. He looked at it quickly, then back at Rebel. “Grab the fries. We gotta go.”
Rebel took her newly discovered dish with her as they raced back to the ER and back to saving lives.
Two hours passed before Rebel surfaced from the trauma room. What had come in had been a tractor trailer versus motorcycle. Neither had won.
Rebel combed back the hair of the young man lying on the gurney while awaiting the arrival of his parents. He was only twenty-five and brain dead. She hoped his parents would consent to organ donation as there was no indication on his driver’s license.
“How are you?” Herm entered the room.
“Okay.” She sighed and looked at him. “I was thinking about how many people this one person can help, and he won’t even know it.”
“It’s true.” Herm pursed his lips in contemplation for a moment. “If it’s a match, it’s a match.” He rubbed his eyes and turned away from the patient, who was being kept alive on a respirator. “Unfortunately, I’ve seen too many young folks like this.”
“You’d think that it would get easier over the years, but it doesn’t. We just learn to get through it, shake it off, and do it all over again.” Fatigue swamped her. Herm was a very observant man, and he didn’t miss that.
“You’re sure you’re okay? I can have someone else monitor him for a while and give you a break.”
“Nope. I’m good.”
“His folks are on the way. Should be here within the hour. You can finish your orientation materials in here and keep an eye on him at the same time, can’t you?”
“Sure.” Nurses were forever being tasked with multiple duties at one time. Part of the job and part of the way nurses were built.
“Is there something you need to tell me about? If there is, I’m a good listener.” He turned his full attention to her.
“No.” She placed a hand on his arm. “I appreciate the offer, though.” A sigh escaped her. “He reminds me a bit of my brother, Ben. He died a few years ago. Now and then the memories spring up for me.”
“I’m sorry, Rebel. If I had known…”
“You couldn’t have, and I’ll be all right.” With a nod, Herm left her to her thoughts.
After the situation was tended to and the parents had given consent, the patient was taken to the operating room. It was a somber time, and she needed some fortitude to get through the rest of the shift.
She entered the staff lounge and poured herself a cup of coffee, wishing for something strong to put into it, like Irish whiskey or coffee liqueur Kahlua. After the last couple of hours she could use a stiff drink.
Just as she was about to have her first sip, the lounge door opened and Duncan entered. He stopped short when he saw her. “Don’t drink that. It’ll kill you.”
“What? It’s coffee, not hemlock.”
“It’s awful.” He rummaged in a cupboard over the sink. In just a few minutes he’d put on a new pot of coffee and the brew smelled heavenly. Her mouth even watered. “I keep a stash of the good stuff for just the right occasion.”
“And this is it?”
“Seems good enough for me.” He gave a sideways smile that made her heartbeat a little irregular.
“Wow. That smells like Jamaica, or what I imagine it to be.” She’d never been there, so she could only imagine.
“It does, and that’s why I like it.”
“I’ve never been there, but it’s on my bucket list for sure.” It was a very long list.
“Seriously? Your bucket list? What are you, thirty?” He peered at her, trying to figure out if she was serious.
“Yes, I’d like to go there before I die. That’s what a bucket list is about, right?” She’d go there and go other places her family hadn’t been able to go to. Someday. Before she died. Hopefully.
“You’re out of your mind.” He stared at her as if she was.
“Why?” She frowned. “Didn’t you say you liked Jamaica?”
“Jamaica isn’t a place you go before you die. It’s a place you go in the prime of your life, with a lover on your arm, taking long walks on the beach. Hell, even sleeping on the beach.” He shook his head and sipped some more, considering her. “You need to move Jamaica up on that list.” He tipped his empty coffee cup at her. “It’s for young people. Long days at play and longer nights in your lover’s arms. That’s what Jamaica is for.”
Though the description sounded fantastic, she’d put away fantasies of having a normal, loving relationship with a man a long time ago. No man would willingly go into a relationship knowing his partner could die any time, and waiting until she was well into a relationship before telling a man wasn’t fair either. It would be starting a relationship on a lie, and she wouldn’t do that. “That’s all well and good, but I don’t have anyone to go with.” She shrugged as if it didn’t matter to her when it really did. “I don’t date, so I’d end up going by myself anyway. It can wait.” Something about his description of Jamaica scratched at a door she’d locked long ago. With her family DNA she wasn’t a marriage candidate. She’d accepted it. Explaining it wasn’t going to change it.
Duncan nearly spilled the coffee he was pouring. “What do you mean, you don’t date? A woman with your looks, your smarts should be beating men off with a stick. Why wouldn’t you have someone whisk you off to Jamaica for a week of passion?” The thought was ludicrous. Even he, who had serious commitment issues, had been to Jamaica with a woman before now.
Rebel glanced away and got fidgety. Uh-oh. He’d offended her.
“It’s not something you’d understand, but I just don’t date very much.” Her smile was tight and that open door to communication they’d been enjoying had just slammed shut. He poured her coffee and brought it to her at the table where she sat.
“You should. You’d live longer.”
She looked at him then, doubt covering her face.
“It’s a documented fact that people who have a regular sex life live longer than those who don’t.”
“Now, that’s just not true.” She flat out didn’t believe him.
“Sure it is. Read it in a men’s health magazine. Three orgasms a week, and you’ll live longer.”
Flabbergasted, obviously uncomfortable with the topic, she delayed by adding some milk and sweetener to her coffee. “Yes, well. I’ll take that into consideration should the occasion arise.”
He sat at the table with her and hid a grin as he pursued the topic against his better judgment. What was it about Rebel that was making him take more risks, want to take even bigger risks, than he had in, like, forever? “As a traveler, you control your own destiny, right? Your own schedule?”
“In theory. I can always refuse an assignment or take a break between. But being a traveler is like being on permanent vacation and having a full-time job at the same time.” She shrugged. “I don’t take vacations either.”
“That’s a serious infraction against adding fun to your life.” He took a sip of the steaming brew, but his gaze remained intently focused on her. “This is definitely what I remember from Jamaica.” He closed his eyes, and instantly an image of walking with Rebel on the beach at night surfaced in his mind. The wind teased her luxurious hair against his skin as he reached out to bring her closer to him. That was too easy, so he opened his eyes.
“Sounds like it was a good experience for you.” She wished she could say the same. There was nothing else going on in her life so she just worked. Although some people might call that sad, she saw it as a necessity to get through her painful life. If there was too much extra time she thought too much of her family losses.
“It was.” He focused his full attention on her in that probing way she was coming to associate with him. “But what you said concerns me, Rebel.” He got all serious then.
“Oh, don’t be. It’s the way I live my life. Quiet, unassuming, devoted to work.” Avoiding emotional intimacy and relationships along the way. They only resulted in loss and she’d had enough of that in her life.
“I get that. You can be all that and still date, maybe add a layer of fun to your life. It doesn’t have to be all about work, does it?”
“At this point, it does.” She put down her cup. “I’m not comfortable having this discussion with you, Duncan, so can we table it and just have a nice cup of coffee together?”
“Sure.” He nodded. “Sure.” Wow. That was a very strong boundary she’d erected around herself in seconds flat. She’d obviously been doing it for some time. Most people were willing to talk a little about themselves, some people talked entirely too much about themselves, but Rebel was a different issue and that intrigued him. He loved a good mystery, and Rebel was cocooned in it.
“You mentioned your family has lived here for some time.” She was changing the topic away from herself. That was okay for now, but he wanted to know more about her and one day he would find out. For the moment, he let it go.
“Yes. Although I favor the Hispanic side of my family in looks, the other side is Scottish. If you talked to my grandfather, you’d think he’d just gotten off the ship.”
“What do you mean?”
“His grandparents were from Scotland and immigrated here, so he learned English with a heavy Scottish accent.” Even the memory of the man made him smile. He was an old codger, but lovable. Sometimes. On occasion. If he felt like it.
“Oh, wow.” A small smile curved her lips upward.
“Yes, you should hear him when he gets going on something.”
“Like what?” She leaned forward, her green eyes sparkling now.
“Like formal introductions when you meet someone for the first time.” He’d had that pounded into his brain over and over as a kid, so it wasn’t something he’d ever forget.
“Come again?” Her brows twitched upward.
Duncan set his coffee cup down, cleared his throat as if preparing for a stately oration and struck a dignified pose. “Hoo d’ye expec’ people t’ remembe’ hoo ye are if ye don’ intr’duce y’self?” Duncan gave a plausible Scottish accent, rolling his tongue in all the right places.
Rebel laughed out loud and covered her mouth with her hand. “In this day and age? He’s still stuck on introductions and proper manners? Are you kidding me?”
Wide-eyed, Duncan gave her a serious look. “Absolutely not. When I was a kid he was tough on all of us when it came to manners. We thought he was from another planet. I now have a highly tuned reflex to open a door if a woman even thinks of going through one.”
“I’d like to meet this grandfather of yours sometime. He sounds like a kick in the pants.” She sipped her coffee and Duncan picked up his cup, too.
“He is. And that’s something I’d like to see. You and all that red hair could give him a run for his money.” He leaned forward and peered intently at her. “I’m willing to bet there’s a bit of a temper hidden down in there somewhere in the right circumstances.”
“What are you talking about?” She played it up, wide-eyed, and blinked innocently at him. “I’m just a simple lass of Irish descent.”
Duncan barked out a laugh. “Like I’m going to believe that anytime soon.” He shook his head, enjoying this repartee. “But I’m willing to bet you didn’t come in here for a chat about my family history.”
“Nope, but that’s okay. It’s been an interesting chat.”
Duncan tilted his head as an even more interesting thought entered his mind. Why not? “I’m going to see him this weekend if you’d like to come along. He won’t go see his doctor, so I have to give him the once-over a couple of times every year, make sure everything’s still ticking the right way.”
“Oh, sure. I’m off this weekend. Sounds like fun.” She pointed a finger at him. “But it’s not a date, just a field trip.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up on Saturday morning for a non-date field trip.” He looked at his watch then sighed. “Guess I’ll let you get back to your reading.”
Rebel nodded. “Thanks for the coffee.” She smiled, but it was less exuberant than her laughter had been only moments ago and he could see she was fading away. Whatever had happened to her still had enough pull to drag her away.
“Anytime.” Duncan watched her go out the door, careful to avoid any coffee spillage. More puzzled and intrigued than he’d been about a woman in some time, he wondered what was going on with Rebel Taylor that she’d left romance, relationships and thoughts of romantic islands behind. She was too dynamic to wither away her youth. How in the world could he help her when she wouldn’t cop to what was really going on? One way or another, he’d find out.
That thought stuck with him for most of the day. Rebel was in the prime of her life, had her career path laid out, obviously single without children or she wouldn’t be working as a travel nurse.
As he moved through his day in the ER, seeing patients with spring flu or a kid with serious road rash on his right arm and leg after crashing on a bicycle that was too big for him, to writing up notes and reviewing radiology reports, he’d see Rebel in a corner of the nurses’ station seemingly engrossed or hypnotized by the computer screen. Probably bored out of her mind.
He’d been pursued by women of many cultures and from unfathomable wealth, but none had captured his interest the way Rebel had. Women in his social circle were generally predictable, demanding, and spoiled rotten, and he wanted nothing to do with that anymore. After the death of his fiancée, he’d changed. The experience had changed him. But he was interested in a trim woman with flaming red hair and sad eyes that made him want to know why.

CHAPTER SIX (#uae9fe1b6-71bd-54f7-a982-ee012a3dfc84)
TWO DAYS LATER, Duncan’s muscles felt every bit of the workout he’d just performed. Running. Swimming. Biking. As if he were preparing for a triathlon. But it was just his way of working off the stress of the job. It wore him out, but filled him up at the same time.
Thank you, endorphins.
No, thank you, yoga.
Duncan prowled his living room after getting something to eat and hitting the shower. Television news was the same old hash with a human interest piece thrown in, so he preferred to read it online. Usually a few miles on his stationary bike or elliptical machine kept his mind focused and helped him to decompress from the day, but not tonight. Tonight was different. Restlessness seized him.
Nothing distracted him from the unusual green eyes that kept flashing in his mind, and the deep sorrow hidden within them. Somehow, the world must have hit on Rebel Taylor’s life. She’d assured him there was no ex-husband, about to jump out of her past into her future. So what was it that drove her, kept her going from assignment to assignment without a break? People behaved in predictable ways, and he could figure them out pretty quickly, but Rebel was not being predictable at all.
Though he’d had a few relationships over the years, the last one had about done him in. A woman he’d loved enough to be engaged to had died in his arms. He’d been unable to help her and that had destroyed him for months. Now the memory burned in the back of his throat and prevented him from having another deep relationship.
Just then the phone rang, and he answered it. His cousin Rey was on the other end.
“Hey, man.”
“What are you up to?”
“Heading down to Hatch on Saturday to see him.” He paused, knowing he was going to get some stick from his cousin, but they were like brothers, so he could deal. “And taking a lady friend with me. She’s Irish. Should be interesting.”
“A lady friend, eh?” The tone in Rey’s voice hinted he thought she was more than a lady friend. “Irish, eh? You’re asking for trouble.” Rey laughed.
“There could be sparks for sure.”
“You’re tempting fate. Remember the last chick you took down to meet him? Disaster from the get-go.” Duncan couldn’t argue that. Rebound relationship after Valerie had died.
“This one’s different, and she’s not a romantic interest.”
“Why not? She ugly?”
“No.” She was gorgeous.
“Overweight?”
“No.” Fit and athletic.
“Smell bad?”
“Hardly.” She smelled like a lavender garden.
“Bad breath?”
“Not that I can tell.” He hadn’t gotten close enough to really know. Yet.
“Then you have some explaining to do, cuz, ‘cause she sounds fine to me. Why aren’t you interested in her?”
“She actually isn’t interested in me. She doesn’t date.”
Rey laughed out loud at that one. Duncan could hear the wheeze as he struggled for breath. “That’s a good one. Maybe she likes ladies instead.”
“No. She’s straight for sure, but she doesn’t date. Now someone who is as gorgeous as she is should have men standing in line for her, but she doesn’t, and isn’t interested.” He paused a moment. Rey was a cop and had finely tuned instincts. He definitely knew how to read people. “Does that make sense to you?”
“Not to me, but to her it does. Something probably happened to her she’s not over yet.” Rey snorted. “You’re the doctor, not me. Aren’t you supposed to know this stuff already?”
“Yes, but it just doesn’t make sense.” Seriously.
“Not to me either, but you know women, they can change on a dime. Maybe she just doesn’t like you.” He laughed that one up big time.
“What?” Seriously? He was nice, had a good job and—
“Come on, man, lighten up. I’m just kidding. What lady in her right mind wouldn’t like you?” He knew all about Duncan’s romantic escapades since they’d both discovered girls were cool.
“Sounds like you need to have a heart-to-heart with this lady. If she’s like you say, you can talk to her, right? And if you can’t talk to the woman you’re in love with, there’s something wrong.”
“Whoa. I’m not in love with her.” But he would admit to being intrigued by her. And very attracted to her.
“Maybe she just has a broken heart you need to fix. Some ladies have tender hearts, even the tough ones. You’re a doctor, so heal her.” There was mumbling on the phone and the sound of children giggling in the background. “I gotta go, bro’. The wife’s out with her lady friends tonight, and I have dad duty. Homework, baths, the works.”
“Sounds like fun.” Duncan knew Rey loved being a dad, and he hoped to be one someday, too. Having grown up surrounded by cousins, he wanted a big family of his own. He had wanted to marry Valerie and be a dad, too. That’s what had been the last straw in their relationship. They’d argued. She hadn’t wanted children. Period. She’d taken off in her car and crashed. He’d followed behind her and pulled her from the wreckage, but she’d died in his arms.
“So what’s your lady friend’s name?” More giggling in the background, and Duncan knew his time with Rey was just about up.
“Rebel Taylor.” Even as he said it, her name lingered in his mind, and he wanted to see her again. Soon.
“Okay, okay, wait. Her name is Rebel? Seriously? Maybe she was just born bad with a name like that.” In his culture superstitions were everywhere, so it wasn’t a surprise his cousin said that.
“She’s a perfectly nice woman, Rey. She has a proper name but it doesn’t suit her at all.” The thought of using her given name didn’t feel right.
“Then why don’t you just ask her? You’ve never been shy about getting what you want, even if it’s just information.”
“I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair. “There’s something with her. A vulnerability or something that’s deep. When I talked about Jamaica, she said it’s on her bucket list to do before she dies.”
“So?”
Was his cousin brain dead? “Seriously? Would you want to wait till you’re old to go to a place like that?”
“Good point. That’s messed up.”
“And she had never heard of green chili.”
Silence on the other end for a moment. “You’re serious?”
“Unbelievable, isn’t it?”
“You should marry that woman.”
Duncan blinked. “That’s a hell of a leap. From ‘This is green chili’ to ‘Will you marry me?’”
“Well, you know this lady isn’t out for your money if she’s never even heard of green chili, and she certainly doesn’t know about the family business.” There was a snort of indignation in the background. “Just need to find yourself a woman like my Julia. She’s the best.”
“Of course she is, but you’ve known her since we were kids.”
“True.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, should the occasion arise. For now, I’m just bringing a coworker to the ranch for the weekend. No big deal.”
After signing off with Rey, he did his best to settle down for the night. A pair of haunted green eyes kept appearing in his mind’s eye. There was something, some pain, some regret, some…something she couldn’t hide. He wanted to help, wanted to take her in his arms and hold her close.
Was it only curiosity holding him captive? Was it the shared experience of rescuing Eric bonding them when otherwise they’d have just been acquaintances? Or was he imagining something that wasn’t there, simply because he was lonely?
Flopping facedown onto his bed, he gave up for the night. He didn’t know what the answer was, maybe Saturday would tell, but right now he needed some shut-eye.
After a few more days of chaos in the ER and seeing Duncan only briefly, Rebel was ready for a weekend of peace and quiet, with a small side trip to meet Duncan’s elderly grandfather. Duncan had called and said he’d pick her up at eight a.m., so she was ready to go.
She flitted around her apartment, waiting for Duncan. Was she out of her mind? Had he really invited her to meet his grandfather? What had she been thinking to agree to that? She didn’t meet the families of people she worked with. She didn’t even socialize with people she worked with. She didn’t know how many invitations she’d turned down or avoided over the last six years of her travel nursing career that had been offered by coworkers.
The echo of their words rang in her mind.
Come on, it’ll be fun.
It’s just one cocktail.
You work too much.
Why don’t you want to come?
They were all well meaning, and she certainly could have made more friends, but people who extended offers like that expected something in return. They wanted something from her. Wanted to get to know her, and that was out of the question.
The doorbell rang, and Rebel’s pulse kicked into high gear. If she didn’t move, maybe he’d go away. Maybe he’d think she’d forgotten. Couldn’t she just say she’d changed her mind or gotten called into work?
“Stop being silly, Rebel. You’re a grown woman. You can do this.” She opened the door and realized she wasn’t being silly at all. Her senses were instantly overloaded by Duncan, the epitome of a sexy Hispanic New Mexican man. A black T-shirt hugged muscles that hadn’t been apparent beneath his scrubs. It molded to his torso and defined his shoulders and trim waist. Jeans that were well loved, a little worn around the edges and fit him to perfection. A tan chamois shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing muscled forearms and strong hands. And scuffed cowboy boots that seemed a perfect fit to his heritage and personality.
She swallowed and took in one of those deep yoga breaths she practiced every day. She’d told Duncan yoga was good for the mind, body and spirit. She needed some of that now. Gulp.
“Wow. Don’t think I’d have recognized you out of the scrubs.” Seriously, and he smelled like a dream. “Come in.”
She huffed out a little breath.
This was s-o-o-o-o wrong.
She was in s-o-o-o-o much trouble.
“Thanks. Same to you,” he said, and indicated her state of dress in white clam-diggers that exposed her calves, a Kelly-green top, and her family tartan thrown over one shoulder.
“You do realize you’re going to start a war with that.” He nodded to the tartan and gave a full-out grin.
“Oh, really? Then I won’t bring it.” She reached to remove the plaid and gasped when Duncan clasped her wrist tightly in his hand.
“Absolutely not. Don’t change a thing.” He leaned closer to her and looked down as she could only stare into his eyes. “I wouldn’t miss that for anything. It’s about time the old man had a challenge.”
Somehow she ended up closer to Duncan with his one hand still clutching her wrist and his other pressed against her hip, reminiscent of the position they had been in the other day. Only this time there were no constraints of work, no witnesses, nothing to stop him.
Then his gaze dropped to her mouth. Without thinking, she parted her lips and tilted her face toward him, silently begging him to kiss her.
This was a woman who had no idea how beautiful she was and how that intrigued him. If there was no flash between them, then he’d know they were destined for friendship. But if there was a spark, that could lead them down another, more dangerous, yet much more interesting, path. Needing no further encouragement, Duncan closed the distance between them and pressed a simple, chaste kiss to her lips.
Spark.
Definite spark.
Duncan’s mouth was soft and firm against hers and her lips actually tingled. The surprise of the kiss flashed all the way to her toes. Something she’d heard about but had never experienced. Then he moved and pulled her more firmly against him. One hand dove into her hair and held her head as his mouth opened over hers.
Inside she gasped as his tongue touched hers. Oh, God, she was in trouble. Without being aware of it, she moved her arms and clutched his shoulders, easing closer to him, if possible. The glide of his silky tongue nearly made her want to abandon her morals and her clothing, but she restrained herself. She tasted cinnamon on him and the lingering essence of coffee. Two of her favorite things, but right now she didn’t care as she gave herself over to the kiss that overwhelmed her senses.
Duncan nearly forgot he was going to just kiss her to test the situation. As she moved closer, bringing her body against his, he realized how well she fitted him from nose to toes. The taste of her was shockingly sweet. As he cupped the back of her head and dove deep into her, he sensed a depth of passion she probably wasn’t aware of. Tremors shot through him, and he wanted to abandon the planned trip to take her down the hall to her bedroom instead.
Not a good idea. Yet. He eased back and watched in delight as her eyelids fluttered and surprise covered her face. She was as turned on as he by the surprising power of the kiss. Her lips were red and plump, face flushed and breathing slightly erratic. He imagined he looked about the same. He’d love to see her all rumpled from making love all afternoon but had to grit his teeth and pull away.
She was relieved when he moved back, but at the same thoroughly confused by the kiss. Then again, Duncan wasn’t going to be someone she’d date. They were just coworkers and friends.
Who maybe kissed on occasion. That happened, didn’t it?
“That was very nice, Rebel.” His eyes glittered.
“Uh, very.” She cleared her throat and blew out a breath, trying to get herself under control.
He placed a light kiss on her lips and reluctantly withdrew. He clasped her shoulder, then let his hand stroke down her arm and take her hand. “Let’s get going, shall we?” He straightened the tartan over her shoulders. “This looks perfect on you.”
Despite her experience as a nurse, she was such a babe in some ways. He liked that. Not sure why, but he did. The innocence she exuded was really quite alluring. Her own siren song she didn’t know she sang.
“Thanks.” With her senses still humming, she grabbed her handbag and locked the door. Duncan took her hand and escorted her to his vehicle. The pickup truck seemed totally Duncan. It was black and unassuming on the outside, but inside it had all the bells and whistles one could ask for. It looked like a small airplane. She wasn’t surprised when he put on aviator sunglasses.
“We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Where does he live? In a retirement home?” There were probably lots of them in Albuquerque. It was a retirement hot spot.
Duncan snorted, then choked on a laugh. “Him? In a facility? Not on your life. He’d throw himself in front of a bus first.”
“More self-sufficient than I imagined, then?” Some elderly lived independently well into their nineties.
Duncan gave her a slant-eyed glance then turned his attention back to the road. “You have no idea.”
In short order, they arrived not at a private home, as she’d expected, but at a private airfield.
“He lives at an airport?” Now she was more confused than ever.
“No, he lives in Hatch, like I said. It’s about three hours by car, but only about forty-five minutes by plane.”
Her stomach churned. “This isn’t a good idea. Why don’t you just take me home, and we can forget it? Or we could drive.” Panic began to set in. How the hell was she going to get out of this? Get into an airplane with him after he’d just given her the kiss of a lifetime? How was she going to sit that close to him and not reach out?
“You don’t get air-sick, do you?” He parked the truck and got out. She bailed out of her side and slammed the door.
“N-no, I don’t think so, but I’ve never been in a plane that small before.” It looked like a toy. Seriously, where was the wind-up device?
“Well, here’s your chance.” He began to remove the padded covers from the propeller. “You’re not afraid to go up with me, are you?” He moved closer to her. “You are. You’re uncertain about going up in a plane with a man you just met.”
What a relief. He understood, and they could end this now.
“No problem.” He resumed his preparations and anxiety resurfaced.
“You’re a pilot?” That surprised her. Most people she knew were just what they appeared to be. A doctor or nurse or plumber. Duncan was starting to have more depth than she’d imagined, but that didn’t mean she wanted to get into a flying tin can with him.
“I’ve been flying since I was fourteen. Got my junior license when I was sixteen, flew my grandfather back and forth from Hatch to Albuquerque I don’t know how many times, then got my full pilot’s license so I could fly day or night. Been flying for almost twenty years now.”
“Uh…that’s nice.” He was still preparing the plane, like he thought she was getting into it.
“Don’t worry, Rebel. I’ll get you there safely, and I’ll get you back safely.” He grinned and looked at her over his reflective sunglasses. “Trust me. I’m a doctor.”
Now, that made her laugh, and she relaxed. “I think that’s the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard.”
“Yeah, but it made you laugh and that’s a beautiful thing.”
He approached her and took her hand gently in his. “It’s going to be okay. You said you wanted a field trip.” He led her to the small plane, opened the door and assisted her into the passenger seat, tucked the plaid around her and buckled her in. After securing her door, he rounded the plane and settled himself in the pilot’s chair.
Duncan helped her to adjust the headphones so they could speak to each other over the headset and started the plane. The hum of the engine whined in her ears and the vibration pulsed through her. Excitement and eagerness fought with equal parts of anxiety and nausea inside her as Duncan got all serious and went through his preflight checks.
“Any mishaps over the years?” Although it was wise to ask, it also felt impolite.
“Only one. Daisy got sick every time.” Though he answered the question honestly, he didn’t elaborate and continued his preparations.
“Oh, I see.” A sick, jealous feeling surged inside her, and she pushed it down. Though he’d kissed her, she didn’t have any right to be jealous. Knowing he’d flown another woman multiple times put a damper on the day. Another yoga breath to clear those thoughts. And she ignored the tremor in her hands. It was nothing.
“She hated flying, but once she got her paws on the ground she was a whole new dog. Raced through the fields like a puppy.”
“Paws?” That opened up a whole new dimension to the situation.
“Yes, she was my dog. Chocolate lab. Never had another dog like her.” A wistful sigh escaped him. “She was a gift from my mother when I was twelve. Said I needed to learn how to take care of a four-legged female before I could ever consider taking care of a two-legged one.”
Relief flowed through Rebel and a warm pulse in her chest followed. A dog.
Someone spoke into the headset, and Duncan responded. Rebel remained quiet as they bumped out onto the runway and prepared to take off.
Her heart raced and her mouth went dry. Clenching her hands on the seat didn’t relieve her anxiety, but she couldn’t help it, just as she couldn’t help the grin that exploded on her face when the tires left the pavement and they were airborne.

CHAPTER SEVEN (#uae9fe1b6-71bd-54f7-a982-ee012a3dfc84)
A TOTALLY GIRLISH squeal erupted from her throat. “Oh, my, this is incredible!” There were so many things to look at all at once out of every window of the plane, she felt as if her head were on a swivel. There was the river, the mountains, cars on the highway, and all kinds of buildings that were growing smaller and smaller.
Duncan’s chuckle sounded warm in her ears. “Keep that up and you’re gonna barf. Pick one side of the plane to look out of.”
That got her attention. So uncool to barf in front of witnesses. “Good to know.”
“Look to your right, there’s the Rio Grande. Locals say it without the emphasis on the e at the end. And I’ve heard people add the word river at the end. It literally translates to river big, so no need to add river on the end.”
“Dead giveaway for tourists, right?” Note to self.
“You got it.”
For the next hour Duncan kept her entertained by pointing out the sights below and didn’t make her one bit nauseated. She was fascinated by all the knobs and dials he tended to. No wonder his truck looked like a small plane on the inside. He was used to it.
“We’re coming in over the property now.”
Rebel looked at a beautiful patchwork of red dirt and green vegetation, whirls of dirt kicked up by a tractor adding another dimension to the scene below. The engine changed tone, and Rebel clutched the seat.
“Don’t worry, just have to slow the plane so we can land.”
“Down there?” She raised her brows and didn’t see a thing large enough to land on. “Uh, where?”
He chuckled. “Yes, down there. Don’t worry. I’ve never missed the airstrip yet.”
“That’s reassuring.”
Duncan expertly guided the plane down until they were just a few feet above the dirt. Rebel cringed and closed her eyes tightly, held her breath.
Then a few bumps, the pressure of the brakes pressed her forward into the seat belt and then flung her back into it as they came to a dusty, bouncy stop unscathed.
“You okay?” Duncan asked, and looked at her.
“I’m okay.”
Duncan reached toward her, his hands cupping her face as he pushed off the headset. “Welcome to Hatch.”
Both doors were flung open from the outside and two young men, bearing a strong resemblance to Duncan, peered in at them.
“Come on, he’s waiting for you.”
Rebel smiled as she stepped out onto solid ground again.
“Rebel, these are my nephews, Jake and Judd,” Duncan said as he introduced them. They rode in a golf cart on a dirt track that paralleled a field of chili. In minutes, they approached a huge, two-story home that reminded her of pictures she’d seen of historic old Mexico. Beautiful, traditional and exotic.
“There he is.”
Rebel noticed a hunched-over old man standing on the porch. He raised a hand, and she waved back, though she knew he couldn’t see her. The old man appeared to lean on something, and she thought it might be a cane or a walker. With the sun bright overhead, she shaded her eyes with one hand and as they neared the house she realized she’d fallen victim to a trick of light and shadow.
The man was six feet tall and as robust as she could imagine any ninety-year-old could be. Duncan had said he was impressive, and Rebel believed him. The cart stopped at the edge of the patio, and Duncan stepped out, then offered a hand to assist her. “Don’t be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid,” Rebel said, and straightened her spine. “I’ve taken on many patients his age. I can handle him.” A snort erupted from one of the nephews in the front seat, but Rebel didn’t know which one.
Duncan walked beside Rebel with anticipation humming through him. He didn’t really know why. They weren’t a couple, they weren’t even dating. The last time he’d introduced a woman to his grandfather it had ended in disaster. The man had seen right through her and had made no bones about what he thought of her.
They’d broken up the next day.
“So this is the lady friend you were tellin’ me about?” he asked, and stepped forward.
“Yes. Allow me to introduce my friend and a nurse, Rebel Taylor. Rebel, this is my grandfather, Rafael McFee, current owner of this impressive empire.”
Rafael held his hand out to Rebel, and she didn’t know whether to shake it or curtsy, so she went with a firm grip. She’d seriously have to amend her mistaken assumption he was going to be elderly, frail and cute. This man was anything but, and she could see how Duncan had inherited his strong, commanding presence and control.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. Duncan has mentioned you several times.” She hoped that was okay.
Without releasing her hand, he gave Duncan a narrow-eyed look. “I’ll bet he did.” His accent was soft with a mixture of Spanish and Scottish inflections. Rafael tucked her hand into his elbow and led the way to an outdoor patio, a portál, if she remembered correctly. “Did he tell you I chased off his last girlfriend?”
Rebel gave a panicked look at Duncan’s enigmatic expression, then returned it to Rafael. “No. No, he didn’t. But as I’m not his girlfriend, I don’t have to worry about you chasing me off, do I?”
“Well, there’s still the matter of you walking into my home brazenly displaying the colors of a rival clan, now, isn’t there?”
Rebel laughed and patted him on the arm. “Now, that’s a whole other issue.”
They settled at a large wooden table with chairs made of wood and cowhide, and an older Hispanic woman emerged from inside, carrying a tray of iced tea. She didn’t have the manner of a hired member of staff, but carried herself as if she had been around this family for a long, long time.
“I’m Lupe, and I run this madhouse,” she said, then turned to Rebel. “Now, be on your best manner.”
Rebel raised her brows and Duncan said, “She’s talking to him, not us.”
“Oh.” She paused. “Oh! So you’ve made a habit of misbehavior, have you?” Rebel asked, innocently setting her chin on her hand and looking right at Rafael.
Duncan tilted back in his chair and roared out a laugh. “I knew this was going to be fun.”
The scowl on Rafael’s face should have made her cringe, but she only smiled, comforted by Duncan’s relaxed demeanor. He was right. It was fun.
“So, tell me, why aren’t you dating my grandson? Don’t tell me he’s not good enough for you either.” Rafael turned to face Duncan. “Don’t tell me she’s like that last one. Only seeing dollar signs.” He paused, thinking. “Or was that the one before that? The last one didn’t make it to the altar either.” He slapped his hand on the table and Rebel jumped. “Dammit, Duncan. You’re supposed to find a woman you can make babies with. I want to make sure my favorite grandson has his life in order before I die.” The scowl on his face was enough to make anyone cringe, but Duncan hardly looked disturbed.
Duncan snorted and reached out to take Rebel’s hand for a second. “That’s about enough of the grilling.” He leaned forward, getting into Rafael’s face. “And I’ve never been your favorite grandson.”
“Duncan certainly is a fine doctor and a fine man, but the fact is I don’t date. It has nothing to do with him.” There. She said it out aloud, and she hadn’t been struck by lightning. She looked overhead. It could still happen. Looked like thunderheads were coming their way. Outrageously huge ones, racing across the horizon.
“Why not?” The frown grew even more fierce. “Don’t you like men?”
“I like men just fine.” She glanced down and fiddled with her glass. “Things just haven’t worked out that way for me. So I’ve decided to let go of that part of my life.”
“Why? There must be something wrong with the men you’re picking, then.”
“Yes. Well.” Rebel’s insides tightened a bit, not wanting to get into her tragic family history the second they arrived, but it seemed they were on the edge of it.
“Seriously, Rafael. Enough.” Duncan defended Rebel. She didn’t need that sort of treatment. “Rebel’s decisions are her own and it’s not for us to pry. She hasn’t even had a cup of coffee, and you’re jumping down her throat.”
“It’s not natural, that’s for sure,” Rafael said, and eased back into his chair.
“If I’ve offended you, sir, I apologize, but, as Duncan says, this is my own business.” She stood and wrapped the plaid around her shoulders as if it would protect her. “You’ll have to excuse me for a while,” she said, and walked away from the table, back out the gate they’d entered and away from the house. Where she was going, she didn’t know, but she needed a breather. Now.
Her strides lengthened until she was almost running away from the house. If she’d worn better shoes, she would have raced, but her flats weren’t designed for that. And there were too many rocks and stickers on the road.
Minutes later she heard the crunch of tires on the dirt, but no engine. She kept going, not looking behind her. It was probably one of the field workers she’d seen, and she wrapped her tartan around her shoulders tightly. Certainly wouldn’t be Duncan chasing after her. He wasn’t the kind to chase.
“Rebel, wait.”
It really was him. “No.”
“Seriously, please wait.” He drove the golf cart closer and pulled alongside her as she huffed along the dirt road. A small rock had gotten into one shoe and now she limped along, pain in every step. But it was nothing to the pain in her heart. She didn’t want to have to explain herself to anyone. Her lifestyle was a choice. A personal one. Telling it didn’t change it.
The sky darkened further as the thunderclouds raced closer and drops of rain began to fall all around her while Duncan was safe in the little golf cart.
“I’ll stop if you’ll stop.” What a ploy.
“I’m not stopping.” It was a matter of stubborn pride now. The Irish always could out-stubborn the Scottish. Or at least that’s what her mother had told her. Rebel was about to find out.
“Then I guess I’m not either.”
When the skies opened up minutes later and lightning sizzled too close, she jumped into the golf cart. “Let’s go. I can be mad at you later.”
Duncan guided the lumbering golf cart toward a large barn, which looked really far away. Rain pelted down on them and Duncan began to drive slower.
“What are you doing? Go faster, not slower.”
“The battery is dying. Damned kids never plug anything in. We’re going to have to run for it.”
“Oh, no.” She got out of the questionable shelter of the cart and ran alongside Duncan. They were getting closer to the barn when mud engulfed one of her shoes, and she was forced to stop.
“Come on!” Duncan raced back to her.
“I’m stuck!” She was not leaving her shoe.
Like any superhero ready to save the damsel in distress, he bent at the waist, put her over his shoulder and ran for it.
Rebel screamed the whole way.
Duncan stumbled into the barn and collapsed into a pile of hay as he lowered Rebel down. Or tried to. It was more of a controlled fall than a gracefully executed maneuver. Seemed like he was always stumbling into something when he was around Rebel.
“Are you okay?” Riding on his shoulder couldn’t have been comfortable.
“I’m fine. Just soaked.” She pushed her dripping hair up and out of her face. “That storm came up quickly.”
“Welcome to monsoon season.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously, but that’s not what I mean. I meant okay about what happened back there. He’s a cantankerous old buzzard, but that was going overboard, even for him.” Duncan slid his hand down her arm until he reached her hand. “I’m sorry. I should have stepped in sooner, but I didn’t realize he was going for the jugular until too late.”
“It’s okay, really. I should be used to people asking me questions like that.”
“Well, no, you shouldn’t. Your personal decisions are nobody’s business, not even mine. Though I don’t understand, it’s really none of my business.” He wanted to, but it was such a waste of life to not fully enjoy it. And for someone as vibrant and lively as Rebel, it was equally sinful in his eyes. Especially when that life could be ripped out from under you at a moment’s notice. Like in a car wreck.
“Thank you.” Giving herself a verbal shake, she sat on a bale of hay and patted the space beside her. “Sit down. Why don’t you tell me about this monsoon season? I’ve never heard of it.”
Duncan shook himself like a dog. He dropped onto the spot beside her. “It’s the rain this time of the year that makes or breaks a chili season.” Though he was soaked to the bone, it didn’t bother him. He was warming up watching Rebel try to make headway with her hair, which was a wild tangle. He itched to dig his hands into the mass and test it for himself.
“I had no idea.” She huffed one last strand out of her face.
Pieces of straw poked out from her shirt, and he reached to remove that. She looked up at him, and she’d never looked more beautiful, more alluring than she did sitting there soaking wet on a hay bale in his grandfather’s barn.
“Rebel.” He reached out and cupped her face so she looked up at him. “I want to kiss you again.”
She didn’t say anything, but held his gaze. He wanted her with everything he had in him, but she was much more fragile and vulnerable than he’d known. Hiding behind all that fire and sass was a profoundly bruised soul. He leaned closer, drinking in the sweet fragrance of the hay, the fresh aroma of the rain falling around them, the unique perfume of Rebel’s body, and he leaned closer still. Her eyes dilated, and her gaze dropped to his mouth.
He’d only intended to give her a small kiss. But his appetite to taste her had been whetted that morning. When his lips touched hers, she took a deep breath, as if scenting him, breathing his essence, and he was lost. Wrapping his arms around her shoulders, he brought her fully against him. She tasted sweet, like the rain on his lips. Pliant, she relaxed beneath his touch and parted her lips to his questing tongue.
Lord, the man could kiss. Unable to deny herself this moment, she wrapped her arms around his middle and hung on as he kissed her like he couldn’t get enough of her. His hand dove into her hair and cupped her head while his mouth explored hers.
She’d been kissed plenty of times, had had a few short-term relationships that had been purely physical, but she’d never been kissed like this. Warmth began with his lips pressed against hers and spread to her chest and abdomen, inspiring surges of pleasure that made her want to stay in his arms forever.
Duncan could stay here, just like this, wrapped up with Rebel for the rest of the day, the rest of the night. Doves cooing overhead only lent to the atmosphere. Making love all afternoon would be something he’d never forget, but he knew she wasn’t ready for that yet.
Rebel wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him closer, aching to have him against her skin. When his hand cupped her breast and his thumb traced her nipple, she knew she was in over her head. Telling him no or pulling away wasn’t one of the options she was thinking of right now.
The lights of a vehicle shone in the doorway, and they broke apart.
“Someone’s come to get us, I think.” Duncan pressed a kiss to her nose and helped her to sit. “Dammit.”
The SUV raced down the road and nearly drove into the barn. Rebel watched as Duncan changed, his radar on full alert. This wasn’t the usual rescue of people stranded in the rain.
One of the boys burst from the vehicle and dashed into the barn. “Come quick. He’s in trouble.”

CHAPTER EIGHT (#uae9fe1b6-71bd-54f7-a982-ee012a3dfc84)
DUNCAN GRABBED HER hand and they hurried through the rain and into the SUV.
“What’s wrong?” Duncan leaned forward from the backseat.
“He’s having another spell.” Jake skipped the road and drove right through the middle of what had once been a promising field of chili, but was now a straight shot to the house.
“Another spell? What do you mean, another?”
“Last week he couldn’t breathe, but it passed, and he wouldn’t let anyone call you.”
“Dammit.”
“He’s so stubborn, he thinks he’s invincible.”
In minutes the SUV stopped in front of the house. “Go to the plane and get my medical kit from the outside cargo hold.”
“Got it.” Jake sped away before Duncan even closed the door.
Rebel waited, anxious, for him. He was more serious than she’d ever seen him. Concern for his grandfather was evident on his face and the grim set of his mouth.
“It’ll be okay. We’ll take care of him.” Somehow she wanted to reassure him.
Duncan nodded and led the way inside. Lupe met them at the door. She clutched her hands in her apron. “Where is he?”
“In the den. He can’t breathe, mijo, just like last time.”
Without a word, Duncan strode to the den, with Rebel steps behind him. If his grandfather died it would be because of pure stubborn pride. Or Duncan would strangle him. One or the other. Rafael could inspire the most patient of men to murder.
He sat on the couch, eyes closed, his color a waxy, greenish-yellow. That indicated a cardiac issue. “How long has this been going on?”
“‘Bout…half…hour.” His breathing came in short gasps, and Duncan could hear crackles in his lungs, even without a stethoscope.
Rebel sat on the other side of Rafael, and she placed his hand in her lap, her fingers on his pulse. “He’s clammy, tachycardic, and I can hear fluid in his lungs.”
Her demeanor snapped him out of grandson mode and into doctor mode. “Where’s Jake? I need that kit.”
Lupe dashed to the door. “Here he comes now.” She pulled the door open as the young man ran through.
“Here it is.” What he set down looked to Rebel like a giant black fishing-tackle box with a red cross painted on it.
Duncan flipped the double clamps on it and opened it to reveal a stash of medications and equipment equal to any ER crash cart she’d ever seen.
“I’m going to call my mother and let her know,” Jake said.
“Dear God…not…your mother,” Rafael gasped.
“Just go for now,” Duncan said, and Jake hurried from the room but lingered in the doorway, his eyes wide.
Duncan extracted a stethoscope from the box, and Rebel fished out a pulse oximeter, a small monitor that fit on a finger to check the oxygen level and whether a patient’s condition required supplemental oxygen.
“Sat’s seventy-two—way too low.” That meant his lungs were full of fluid and oxygen wasn’t getting into his bloodstream the way it was supposed to.
“Get an IV in him. There’s a butterfly setup on the left side.” Quickly, Rebel got an IV access in the back of his right hand.
“Got it.”
As she dug into the kit for the proper equipment to administer the medication, she noted that the room had started to fill with people. Lots and lots of people. Migrant workers, whose lives and livelihoods depended on this man, showed up and stood at the threshold of the room. Others stood inside the door. All were grim-faced and staring.
Rebel began to feel uncomfortable with so many strangers staring at her. Fumbling with the packing of the IV insertion supplies, she dropped it twice before being able to open it properly. What was wrong with her? She was a skilled nurse, and she could perform an IV setup in her sleep. So why now were her hands trembling like she was a new nurse fresh out of school?
That little voice in a dark place in her heart told her she knew why. It told her she was beginning to get sick. Just like her family had. Just like she’d known she would.
“Do you think someone could make coffee?” she asked Duncan.
His gaze flashed to her, and he frowned. “Seriously? You need coffee now?”
She wanted to whack him one for his lack of insight, but she refrained. Given the circumstances with his distress over this grandfather’s sudden illness, she had to cut him a break. He wasn’t thinking as clearly as he normally would if he were in the ER with control of the situation. “N-o-o-o. It will give them something to do and ease the tension in the room, which is about to strangle me. We also need oxygen. Is there any sort of oxygen machine we could hook him up to?” It would give her a little space to control her own racing thoughts and steady her hands again before she put in the IV.
Duncan closed his eyes for a second as he realized her suggestion was brilliant. “Sorry. You’re right.” He’d been too focused to see a solution to the congestion in the house. Turning slightly, he spoke to Lupe in Spanish, and then to the people gathered in the room.
Lupe clapped her hands like a drill sergeant and shooed everyone out. One man stepped forward. “I get the oxygen.” He raced from the room, plowing through the rest of the crowd now that he had a mission to accomplish.
The atmosphere eased as people filed out, each offering a quick sign of the cross for Rafael’s recovery. Rebel could take a deep breath for the first time since she’d sat down.
“I’ll take your blood pressure, too.” She applied the cuff to his left arm and performed the short procedure. “One-eighty over eighty-five.”
“Give him a diuretic.”
“How much?” Rebel was already reaching for the vial. The tremor in her hands was less visible, but she still felt it on the inside, down in her gut.
“Twenty now, twenty more in thirty minutes if he doesn’t respond.”
Rebel dropped the vial in her lap, cursed quietly as she wiped the perspiration from her palms and picked it up in a tight grip.
“Don’t worry, Rebel. It’s an unexpected situation, but don’t worry. Take a breath, and we’ll get through this together.” Duncan gave a glance at his grandfather, who had not opened his eyes. “We’ll all get through it.”
Finally, she drew up the prescribed dosage in a syringe and administered it through the IV, grateful Duncan was putting the shaking of her hands down to nerves. He couldn’t know what she knew. Someday, she knew she was going to get sick, but it was like a time bomb, waiting to go off. Distraction and focus on the task at hand was the way out of her mental chaos.
“This will ease your breathing by pulling the fluid from your lungs, but it’s going to make you pee like a racehorse.” She gave him the information she’d give to any patient.
“If you…say…so.”
“I do.” She patted his knee, knowing he needed comfort, even if it was the last thing he’d ask for.
She glanced at Duncan. His gaze was glued to Rafael’s chest. She wanted to comfort him, too. This was what she did, what she was good at, and she shoved aside her own tremors to give them her best.
Leaning over, she placed a hand on Duncan’s arm until he looked at her. “He’s going to be okay.”
After placing a hand over hers, he gave a terse nod. Not that he didn’t believe her, but as a physician he knew too much. People who knew too much worried even more. They knew what could happen, knew the worst-case scenario, and always went there mentally. Plan for the worst, hope for the best, was her motto. Personally and professionally. She’d had her will made out for ten years now and had purchased life insurance with a long-term care rider for when she became ill. She just hadn’t expected it to be now.
A shiver made her twitch and their dash into the rain was starting to reveal its unforeseen consequences. Though the room should have been warm, she felt chilled. The effect of adrenaline only lasted so long and the kick she’d gotten was fading.
Duncan’s phone rang. “It’s Juanita. One of my sisters,” he added for Rebel’s benefit.
Rafael clucked his tongue, just as one of the men returned with a very dusty oxygen tank. If it worked, who cared what it looked like? Duncan stood and answered the phone, leaving them to the task of getting the oxygen hooked up.
After pulling a tubing package from Duncan’s kit, Rebel placed it on Rafael’s nose and turned on the tank. “Now take some deep breaths. Slow and steady.”
Amazingly, Rafael did what she said and slowed his breathing, though she knew it was very difficult. “Listen to the sound of my voice. I’ll tell you what to do.” She kept up the light chatter for Rafael, but watched as Duncan wandered away, listening to Juanita pontificate in his ear.
Lupe entered the room with a tray of coffee and sat it on the table in front of them. “He trusts you, you know?”
Rebel reached out for the warm cup Lupe handed her and added a few drips of creamer, not too picky about the flavor at the moment. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Duncan. He trusts you, or he wouldn’t have left you alone with him.” She nodded at Rafael.
“I…can hear…you,” Rafael said, and opened his eyes to slits, glaring his displeasure.
“Oh, you.” Lupe inhaled a tremulous breath and gave him a light rap on the wrist, then took his hand and held it. “Be quiet, you old goat.” The words she said were at odds with the concern and love in her eyes. Rebel was starting to get a clue there was more going on between them than a professional relationship.
Who was she to pass judgment? Her family had been full of oddities. Rafael turned his hand over to clasp Lupe’s in his. What a sweet gesture, to see their aging hands intertwined. Something she had accepted would never happen to her. Especially not now, since she’d noticed a tremor. There was nothing to stop her illness now.
Rebel cleared her throat and placed the oxygen monitor back on Rafael’s finger. “I’m sure Duncan just believes I’m a competent nurse.”
Lupe raised her brows and gave her a look that made Rebel reconsider. “I don’t think so, mija. I know him. He trusts no one to care for Rafael.”
“I see.” Another shiver made Rebel twitch. This time Lupe saw it.
“Oh, mija, look at you. Sitting here like a drowned rat!”
Duncan wandered in, still listening to Juanita rant on the phone, but his gaze remained sharp and focused on the scene.
“It’s okay.” She clutched the cup. “The coffee will warm me up.”
“Nonsense. You’ll have a shower, and I’ll make you both some of my special hot chocolate.” She motioned for Duncan to come closer.
“Juanita, get a hold of yourself and take a sedative or something. I gotta go.” He closed the phone, but Rebel could still hear the voice on the other end as he cut her off.
“Everything okay?” Though he spoke to Rebel, he watched Rafael.
“His color is better and his breathing is, too.”
“And she’s soaked to the bone, mijo!” Lupe said with great concern.
For the first time since they’d entered the house, Duncan grinned. “Well, so am I.”
“Bah!” Lupe waved away his statement. “Rebel needs a shower and dry clothes before she gets a cold.” The housekeeper stood, once again in charge of herself and the situation. She took Rebel’s hand and led her away. “You take care of things for a while.”
Rebel went with Lupe, but cast a look at Duncan, who could only stare as the most interesting woman he’d met in years was being held hostage by his grandfather’s girlfriend. They soon disappeared upstairs, and a door slammed.
“Duncan! Get over here. She’s right. I have to pee like a racehorse!”
A light-hearted sensation filled him. All was well in the world if his grandfather could yell again. He shivered, casting a longing glance upstairs. He was going to need a shower, too. Too bad it would have to be by himself.
After helping Rafael to the bathroom then returning him to the couch and the oxygen, Duncan took a shower of his own. He dressed in clothing he’d left on a previous trip, but he wondered what Rebel would be wearing as she hadn’t brought anything with her. It was too much to hope that it would be skimpy.
As he descended the stairs and scraped his hair back from his face, he expected to see Rebel sitting with Rafael, but she was nowhere in the vicinity. And neither was Rafael.
“I put him to bed, and she’s out on the portál,” Lupe called from the kitchen. “I’m making my hot chocolate for you. I’ll bring it out in a few minutes.”
He found Rebel ensconced on one of the settees, with her feet tucked beneath her and covered by a Pendleton blanket.
What a picture she made. After the shower, her hair seemed curlier and luxurious. He wanted to sink his hands into it and pull her closer to him, pull her fragrance into his mind so he would never forget it. The firelight cast a golden glow over her and he paused, absorbing the image of her quiet beauty. He knew he didn’t make a noise or hardly breathed, but she turned. A few beats of his heart went missing.
And then she smiled.
And he knew he could never be her friend. He wanted way more than that. Especially after that kiss that afternoon had set his blood on fire.
Without directing his feet, they moved him over to where Rebel sat, and he settled beside her. Placing a hand on the back of the settee, his hand tunneled beneath her hair so he could make contact with the skin on her neck. She was such a beauty. Vastly different from the women he’d known from society who’d only seen the prestige in his name and the dollars in his pocket, convinced their beauty alone would win him over.
Rebel had none of those issues. She had others, but he was willing to work on them. She needed a friend, and he wanted to be that for her, as well as something else he wasn’t quite willing to name. Lover? Best friend? Partner? He didn’t know and didn’t want to think about it right now and pushed aside thoughts of his fiancée. Although it had been a long time ago, guilt from his inability to save her resurfaced. Right now, all he wanted to do was put his arms around Rebel and never let go.
“This is lovely. Who knew there would be a need to have a fire on a summer night?”
“Summer nights are the perfect time for a fire.” There was a fire in him that he wanted to explore. Leaning closer, he stopped just short of placing his lips against hers. “There’s been a fire between us since we met, whether you want to admit it or not.”
A small gasp came from her mouth, but she didn’t pull away and she didn’t deny it. How could she when the proof was in front of her face? The proof was in that kiss and the way her body reacted to his.
Slowly, she moved her hand up and she placed a palm on his cheek. “I’m not the one you want, Duncan.” Sadness crept into her eyes again and it maddened him when things were going so well between them. He didn’t want to stop, and he didn’t want anything to get in his way.
“You are the one I want.” He hardly had to move and his lips would be against hers. Every breath she took tingled against his skin.
A sudden interruption on the portál ended the conversation.
“Here it is. I told you my special hot chocolate would be just the trick to warm you up from the inside out.” Lupe hustled across the patio stones and placed a serving tray in front of them. She handed each of them a huge, steaming mug.
“Lupe, this smells incredible.”
“It is!” She clapped her hands together once. “This recipe has been handed down for generations in my family. You will love it.”
“Thank you, Lupe. How’s he doing?”
“He’s asleep and looks peaceful for the first time in months.” She leaned over and kissed Duncan on the forehead. “Thanks to you, mijo.” She moved to Rebel and gave her a kiss as well. She smiled and for the first time tonight he saw the fatigue and the fear in her eyes. “Thank you, mijo. It’s time for bed for me. You two enjoy the evening.”
“Goodnight,” Rebel said.
Duncan watched her as she stared into the fireplace, cupping her hands around the mug of hot chocolate he already knew was a gift from the gods. “Somewhere along the way, Lupe’s family must have made a Mayan sacrifice to get that recipe.” He’d been drinking it since he was a child and it never ceased to impress him.
“What?” She frowned. “What?”
“Kidding.” He clinked his mug gently against hers. “It’s magical. The Mayans were the first to use chocolate and chili in their cooking.”
“This whole place is magical, Duncan.” Hesitation in her eyes, the stiffness in her posture indicated a level of discomfort he wanted to put at ease.
And he really wanted to kiss her.
Clearly there were events in her past that continued to haunt her in the present. If they were going to be friends, or anything else, he needed to know some of them. Patience had never been his way, but right now he knew it was the only way. The way he tended to plow right through things worked in some ways, but not now. Not with Rebel.
She blew on the steaming hot chocolate, and he noticed a tremor in her hands he’d not noticed before. Maybe he made her nervous or just talking about her past made her tense up.
“Want to talk about what happened earlier?”
Shy, she looked down at her mug and avoided the question for a few moments. Then she nodded, as if having come to a firm decision. The mug rattled against the table as she set it down and then turned to face him. “You deserve the truth. To know the truth about me and my family.”
“What, are you descended from a line of circus performers, or bank robbers or something?”
She gave a sad smile. “No. Much worse.”
“You have the plague?” Seriously? What could it be?
Tears sprang into her eyes, and he had to confront the fact there might be something seriously wrong he’d not been aware of. He dropped the attempt at humor. Obviously, now was not the right time for it. “Tell me what it is. Some things are best told straight out. Why don’t you try?”
After a few breaths, she looked at him and held his gaze. “My family has Huntington’s disease.”
Duncan closed his eyes, immediately feeling sadness for her and understanding her grief—her behavior now made perfect sense. Genetically, it was a death sentence. There was no getting around that. At least for some people.
“I’m so sorry, Rebel. Truly.” He leaned closer to her, intending her to see how serious he was. “But you can’t give up your life because of an illness that may or may not strike. Have you been tested?”
“No. I don’t need to, I know I have it.” She looked down, shamed. “I’ve begun to have symptoms.”
“What? How long has this been going on?” That thought sickened him. She was in the prime of her life, and they’d just met.
“It started in the last couple of days. Things like this have never happened to me before, so I’m certain it’s the Huntington’s.” She brushed away a tear that was making its way down her cheek.
“Tell me what your symptoms are. I’m not a genetic expert, but I know a bit about the disease.”
“Over the years, I’ve become one. I’ve got tremors in my hands, shortness of breath, headaches, and I’ve been losing control of my extremities.”
“How so?” He hadn’t seen anything unusual.
“The last few days I’ve been dropping things more than usual. Paperwork mostly, but I dropped the vial in my lap three times when I was preparing it for Rafael.”
“Have you checked your blood sugar? Simple things like dehydration and moving to a higher elevation can make you behave in ways your body isn’t accustomed to.” The panic in him started to settle down. “You haven’t been here long enough to have acclimated. I’m sure it’s something like that.”
“It’s not. It’s can’t be just that. I’m accustomed to traveling.” She picked up her mug again and avoided his gaze. “I appreciate you trying to help, but—”
“But nothing, Rebel!” Anger snapped inside him, and he had to rein it in. He normally didn’t have much of a temper, but when injustice occurred in front of him, his temper roared. “You can’t just sit here and say you’re giving up. Unless you’ve been tested, you can’t know you’re going to develop the full-blown illness.”
“Haven’t you ever just known something in your life? I mean, just known it down in your gut without anyone ever having to tell you?” She looked into her mug as if she were going back into her memories, seeing them now as if they were a movie in front of her eyes.
“Of course, everyone has. But I’ve also been wrong about some of those things too. That’s a sign you’re thinking with your emotions and not logic.” He’d been there and done that, in spades.
“Logic? Research shows a full fifty percent of people develop the disease. The pattern in my family is well over the fifty percent mark. So far, seventy-five percent. There were four children and three have died of it.”
“Rebel, you’re not interpreting the research properly. A full fifty percent of people then don’t develop any symptoms and go on to live beautiful lives.” He raked a hand through his hair, frustrated at her thinking process and her unfounded belief. “Have you thought that you’ve got those sort of statistics on your side? Those are quite positive in my book.”
“No.” She sighed and clutched her hands in her lap. “It’s just always easier to believe the bad stuff, you know? How can I even consider thinking I might not have it when the proof is in my symptoms?”
“You are a stubborn one, aren’t you?” He sighed, not wanting to run over her beliefs, but he wouldn’t be satisfied until she obtained the proper testing. Her symptoms could be anything from simple fatigue to stress from work.
“Why haven’t you gotten the testing done to know for sure?” That’s what he would have done, immediately.
“I’m…” Her breathing came in short huffs and tears sprang forth in earnest. Duncan patted her shoulder but remained silent. “I’m afraid! God, I’m so afraid to have what I know confirmed.” She covered her face with her hands. “I can’t take knowing that every tick of the clock is leading me closer to my death.”
Duncan pulled her against his side, offering her some comfort as the fire in the kiva fireplace snapped and crackled, offering its warmth to her as well. He pressed a kiss to her temple.
“Science may equally disprove what you think you know, too.”
“I don’t know if I want to know. It’s like I can feel it coming on, what more proof do I need?”
“What you may be feeling is the stress of unrelenting anxiety from years of worry.” Squeezing her shoulder, he leaned back into the settee, pulled her closer, tucked her head beneath his chin. “Tell me about it. Tell me the story that’s locking you up inside.”
A few minutes passed before she took a deep breath. “My dad died when I was eleven, and he was forty-five. We had no idea what had happened to him, but a few years later when my oldest brother got sick and showed the same symptoms we had a clue it was the same thing.” She cuddled against him and allowed her body to relax. One hand drifted over his abdomen, almost shyly, as if she hesitated to hold on to him. He placed his hand over hers and held it against him.
“Then what happened?”
“My grandparents finally told us that dad was adopted and they had no idea what his family history was. But when Ben became symptomatic, we started digging. Mom got all of the boys tested as they were the ones showing symptoms. I didn’t have any symptoms yet, so she decided to wait for me.” She paused as a tear ran down her cheek. Duncan caught it with the back of his fingers and wiped it away. “Seemed like every couple of years all we did was plan funerals. All of them were dead by the time they were twenty-five.” She huffed out an irritated breath. “I have three nephews and so far they are doing okay.” She took a deep breath and looked up at him. “They might be okay, then, right?”
“I’m so very sorry, Rebel. That’s a lot of pain to go through.” He could only give the odds science had already established. The guilt she felt for surviving such tragedy now explained everything. Why she ran from one assignment to the next and why she was so reluctant to make friends.
“I know.” She nodded. “It’s awful. But it was part of the reason I became a nurse. I couldn’t help my family, but I wanted to do something to help someone else’s.”
“No matter the reason you entered healthcare, you’re an excellent nurse.” He paused for a second. “But you are entitled to have a life of your own, no matter what your family history is.”
“How can I even think of having a relationship or a family with such history?” Anger blazed in her eyes at the suggestion, but it was part of the process of letting go.
“By living your life you honor your family, and you don’t let a disease, something you have no control over, live your life for you. That’s how.” Anger surfaced again, and he struggled to choke it down. Wasting a life was unconscionable. His fiancée had wasted her life, died after a stupid argument, and he wasn’t going to let Rebel just as surely destroy herself.
“That’s a very different way of looking at it.” She turned away and reached for her mug on the table in front of her, clearly not comfortable with that way of thinking.
“I’m challenging your thinking, Rebel, not your commitment, or loyalty, to your family.” He pushed her hair back from her shoulder.
“You haven’t mentioned your mother at all. Where is she in all of this?” Mothers were a driving force in the lives of children. His had gone from his life entirely too soon.
“I don’t know. We haven’t spoken in a while.” She shrugged and looked away. “It’s hard for me to be around her. I think, whenever I’m with her, I remind her too much of everything she’s lost.”
“She may be sad over her loss, but I think she would be overjoyed at being with you.”
“She’s married again. She’s moved on.” She made a face. “I don’t think she really needs me.”
“Look at me, please?” Her pain was almost tangible, and he wanted to ease it, but he didn’t think he could right at the moment.
It took a few seconds, but she turned her face toward him. The anger still blazed inside him, but it was tempered by compassion. “The question really is, do you want a relationship and a family? If you don’t, then it’s simple, you carry on the way you are. But if you do, then you have to make a change.”
“I did want a family. I grew up loved, and I wanted that for my own children. But when my brothers died, I knew I couldn’t face such pain ever again or bring it to anyone else.” She sighed. “I’ve already tried to have myself sterilized, but no doctor would do it because of my age.”
“You don’t want children?” That would be a crime.
“I would. I did. I do.” She shook her head and her hair caught the firelight. “I gave up thinking about it. It’s not like there have been many men lining up, wanting to father my children. All I could do was have the birth control implant placed in case of accidental pregnancy. It lasts for three years. It’s a pain, but it works.”
“We all have pain. It’s just different for everyone.” Thoughts of the night his fiancée had died surfaced again, but he pushed them away. It was the past and should remain there, though it hadn’t stayed there, ever. She hadn’t wanted children and it would have ended their relationship had she not died that night.
“You have an incredible family with a history like something out of a story book.” She gestured around the patio, encompassing everything.
“True. But it wasn’t perfect.” He had to concede that. “You don’t know about how many of them were killed or died on the trip to the United States, how many of them died from starvation and disease until the ranch got established, how many died in raids or in gunfights with early settlers, Indians and bandits from Old Mexico.”
She smiled. “I can just see Rafael hanging out with Pancho Villa if he’d been around then.”
Duncan snorted out a laugh, admiring her spirit once again. “Actually, we have a photo of my great-grandfather with Pancho Villa.”
“No way!” Astonishment showed in her eyes.
“Way.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “My ancestors not only fought disease but Mexican revolutionaries, as well as Mother Nature. It’s not the same thing, but every family has their trials, their grief. My mother and a sister have both died from breast cancer.” He sighed, not letting the pain of their loss intrude on this conversation. “It’s what you do with the pain, how you learn from it, that counts.” He paused for a second. “And growth hurts. It’s uncomfortable, but it challenges you in places you’d never thought about, but in the end it’s worth it.” Like he’d been challenged so many times in his life.
“Wow. I’m so sorry about your losses. I’ll have to think about that.” She dropped her gaze to her mug again and remained lost in thought for a long time. “It’s been quite a day, hasn’t it?”
“Yes, it has. Tomorrow will be crazy, because the family is going to come to check on him.”
“They don’t just call?”
“You’ve obviously not been involved with a large Hispanic family before.” Call? They descended en masse from all corners of the state when there was a family crisis.
“Um, no. No, I haven’t.”
“Just wait. You’ll see.”
Sipping again from her mug, she realized she’d just about consumed the whole thing, but clutched the mug like it was some sort of protective chalice.
He caught her gaze. She was frightened, yet curious. Very intriguing mix this Rebel was. And she had his complete attention.
When she lowered her mug, he placed his left arm around her shoulder and drew her close against his side. With his right hand, he lifted her chin and closed the distance between them. Slowly, he pressed his lips against hers when he really wanted to ravage her mouth. Gently, he squeezed her shoulders when he wanted to clasp her tightly. Easily, he parted her lips with his tongue when he wanted to consume her with his mouth.
She was as sweet as any woman he’d ever tasted, but she was such a frightened, delicate thing he knew he’d have to be gentle, though his body insisted otherwise.
When she pulled back, confusion, curiosity and arousal warred in her face. “I don’t know what to think about this, Duncan. I’m not a virgin, but if I were more worldly, more experienced, I’d know how to deal with this.” This was the first time she’d truly opened up to him, and he didn’t want to let go of it.
“With what?”
“With what’s going on between us.”
“What, exactly, is going on between us?” He knew. He just needed to hear her say it.
She lowered her eyelids. “You know.”
“What I know is this has been brewing since the day we met.” Truly. From the second he’d seen her in the parking lot, she’d held him captive.
“What, exactly, is that?” she asked, turning his words around on him.
“This attraction. This need to touch you, kiss you. This desire to hold you in my arms and never let you go.”
Rebel blinked, uncertain whether he’d just said the words she’d wanted to hear. But she’d never let any man get close enough emotionally to her to say them. She’d always run before she could be disappointed. Could she let Duncan past the barriers she’d erected and held so firm?
“I had a boyfriend in college who I loved dearly. When I finally told him about my family, he broke up with me. Said he couldn’t deal with someone who might die at any moment.”
“He was an idiot to let you go. And it was probably just an excuse.” He reached for her mug and set it aside on the table with his. “Well, it’s been a long day. Why don’t I see you upstairs, and we’ll call it a night, then?”
After removing the Pendleton blanket and setting it aside, he took a look at her, let his gaze wander down over her body, and sighed. Reluctantly, she allowed him to lead her up the curving staircase to the gallery. She stopped at the third door. “This is where Lupe put me, I think.”
“It’s a nice room.” He led the way inside and tugged on her hand, then shut the door.
From the inside.
“Duncan? What are you doing?” She paused, her gaze questioning. She was blossoming right in front of him, opening and tremulous. She was like a new angel just getting her wings.
“Rebel.” He stepped closer, his mind and his body aching to touch her, but this was a moment of great importance. If he scared her, if he hurt her, there would never be any turning back. “Let me stay with you tonight.” He urged her closer. “Let me hold you tonight and let what happens between us happen.” He tilted her face up. “It’s been happening since we met, and I don’t want to let go of it, of you.”
He could see the pulse in her neck thrumming away and his heart raced at a similar pace. He wanted her without a doubt, his body was aching and hard already. But could she accept the intimacy of baring her soul and her skin in one night?
“Duncan.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her face against his hand, allowing herself to accept him in small measures. Their bodies were millimeters away from each other. Her fragrance and the electricity surging between them were almost overwhelming. He had to pace himself or he’d frighten her more than she already was. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you want to make love with me tonight.”

CHAPTER NINE (#uae9fe1b6-71bd-54f7-a982-ee012a3dfc84)
WHEN HE CUPPED his hands around her face and tilted it up to his, she didn’t resist. She couldn’t. How could she resist the one right thing that had happened to her? This moment, this time, this man were all perfect. Pushing away thoughts that she didn’t deserve this, deserve Duncan or to be loved fiercely, she brought her hands to his shoulders and hung on.
There was a change in him, a tuning in, a focus that was intense and overpowering. A chain reaction occurred in her, and she was on fire.
With impatient hands, he whisked the black sweatshirt off, over her head, baring her upper half.
“Wow. I hadn’t expected that.”
“What?” Her breasts weren’t big, but they did the job.
“I expected a sensible white bra, not gorgeous pink nipples with nothing covering them.” His thumb strayed to tease one.
“I was wearing a sensible white bra, but it was wet and I didn’t want to put it back on.” There was no way to hide the flush that covered her entire body.
Watching her face, he cupped both of her breasts in his hands and stroked her nipples. Tingles of desire raged through her, and her eyelids dropped. She didn’t know if she was going to live through this night, but if she didn’t, at least she’d die happy.
“I would like to extrapolate on that idea.”
“Uh…What?” She was nearly delirious with desire, and he was talking theories?
“Since you aren’t wearing a bra, I’m guessing you aren’t wearing panties either.” His right hand explored beneath the waistband and discovered nothing but skin. “I thought so.”
“What?” Brain function minimal. Comprehension vague.
“You are a woman full of secrets.” He leaned closer, his breath hot in her ear. “At first look, one would never guess there’s such a sexy, passionate woman hidden inside you.”
She was about to tell him there wasn’t when she realized it might true. At least when she was in his arms. He kissed her deeply, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, wanting to draw him inside herself.
Duncan eased her onto the bed and pulled off her sweatpants. Now, naked, anxiety began to surge, and her breath burned in her lungs.
Bouncing up onto her knees, she was about to call the whole thing off when Duncan dragged his shirt off and popped the button of his jeans. His eyes glowed with want for her. She wanted to touch him, feel his skin, put aside any uncertainty of tomorrow and just live in the moment. When her palms touched his chest, all thought of leaving fled.
This was where she needed to be and in this man’s arms.
“Rebel,” he said, gently holding her face, “let’s enjoy right now and let the rest of the world just go away for a while.”
There was no need for an answer as his mouth covered hers and plundered. Hot and wet, his kiss took away her breath and her control. Eagerly, she shoved his jeans down over his hips, exposing more of that tawny skin she wanted against her.
Easing her back, Duncan covered her body with his, pressing her down into the cottony softness of the bedding. He slid one knee between hers and parted them gently. The movement gave her the opportunity to feel how hot and hard he was. Kisses ranged everywhere, and he suckled her nipples into intense peaks, hard and tingling with desire. She was on fire. Duncan was both the cause and the cure.
When his hand roamed over her hip and downward to the core of her, she instinctively parted her thighs, giving him greater access. Shyness had no place here. He released her nipple from his mouth and blazed a hot trail of kisses across her ribs and down past her abdomen.
She was the beauty of his dreams. Soft, luscious and passionate. Each stroke of her body, each restless moan that escaped her throat urged him on closer to that moment when he joined with her, when he was able to let go, to let her take him away. Moving downward, he nuzzled his way to the apex of her thighs. This was what he wanted.
When his hot mouth opened over her core, she stiffened, the sensations taking her to a completely new level of arousal. Her hands dropped to the bedding and clutched it in tight fists. Suddenly, her body wasn’t her own, and she allowed him to do with her anything he wanted.
When Duncan knew she was his, he dove upward and kissed her long and luxuriously, exploring with his tongue. He wanted to know every part of her.
Opening her legs wider, he allowed the tip of his erection to ease into her. She was a delicate thing, and he didn’t want to hurt her in any way. But he was trembling inside, eager to be inside her, eager to feel her heat all around him.
The demands of his body were growing impatient as he eased inside her slick sheath. Waiting for her body to accommodate to his was sexual torture. Sweat popped out all over him, straining with the effort to control himself.
“Duncan.” She breathed his name, and that was all he needed. He kissed her and was lost. He didn’t know if he was falling in love with her, but he was definitely smitten when her arms went around him and she clutched his back, her legs raised to wrap around him.
Easing in and out of her was a pleasure he’d never expected. Liquid fire encased his body and was about to take over his mind. Unable to control the sensations Duncan roused in her, Rebel gave up and let the feelings take her under. The sparks that had begun at his first kiss now raged through her and spiraled to an explosion within.
Spasms of pleasure rocked her. As long as he touched her, moved within her, teased the reaction from her body, she responded. Each touch, each thrill bonded her more thoroughly to him and she pulled at his hips, dragging him into her body again and again.
Unable to stop them, cries of pleasure escaped her throat. She buried her face in his neck, trying to quiet the noise.
“Let me hear you, Rebel. Let it go.”
She cried out and allowed the experience of Duncan to rock her.
Unable to control his body any longer, Duncan clasped her hips and drove hard into her, taking his pleasure in hers, letting the glorious spasms of her sheath take him over the edge into his own bliss.
He poured his passion into her as sweat broke out over his body and he savored every sensation, every moment with her. He sent light kisses over her face, her eyes, her nose and finally again on her mouth.
Turning onto his side, he dragged her against him, not wanting to let go of her but not wanting to crush her small frame beneath the weight of him.
“Are you okay?” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. This was Nirvana.
Snuggling against him, she nodded. “Better than I ever expected to be.”
“Me, too.”
A yawn caught her.
“It’s been a long day.” He pulled the comforter over them and closed his eyes, allowing the fatigue of his body and the day to overtake him.
Rebel lay for a few moments savoring the sensations of her body and her mind. None of her previous sexual encounters had prepared her for the full onslaught of what she’d experienced tonight. Duncan filled her, mind, body and soul.
She splayed her fingers over his chest, savoring the feel of her skin against his, how her body had fit with his intimately and how they now curved around each other, limbs entwined to perfection. This was a night she’d never forget.
Rain began to fall again on the metal roof, providing a soothing backdrop against Duncan’s regular breathing. Yes, this was a night, and a man, she’d never forget.
Early dawn roused Duncan as a car door slammed shut outside. He smiled. Probably his sister, Juanita, who’d gotten up at three a.m. to be the first to arrive. She really was a drama queen.
Turning toward Rebel, he delved beneath the covers to find her glorious body and pulled her against him. Even in sleep, she aroused him.
The first time they’d made love had been urgent with need. This time, soft sighs and softer kisses fell between them and their bodies joined with ease as limbs entwined and tangled together.
Rebel startled at the slam of another car door. And the sounded was repeated with disturbing regularity.
“What’s going on out there? Sounds like an army has arrived.”
“There is.” He sighed. “You’re in for a shock if everyone shows up.”
“How many people are in your family?” She could count hers on one hand.
“I have no idea. People keep having babies.”
A brisk knock at their door came seconds before it opened and Lupe entered. Rebel squealed and jerked the sheet over herself, but Lupe seemed nonplussed to see her and Duncan in bed together, and naked.
“Here you go. Your clothes are nice and fresh. Get dressed and come down. Everyone’s here.” She turned and left as quickly as she had come.
“She seriously didn’t stay up all night, doing our laundry, did she?”
“No.”
“That’s good.”
“She probably started them last night and got up at five to finish them.”
“What?”
“That’s normal around here. She gets up before the chickens.” He patted her on the arm. “Let’s take a shower.” Striding across the room naked, Duncan appeared to have no issues with his body, the way women did. In seconds the spray of the shower drew her attention, and Duncan beckoning from the doorway enticed her from the bed.
They dressed and composed themselves. Rebel prepared to meet his family and then they’d check on Rafael, see how he’d fared overnight.
Duncan opened the door and Rebel almost ran back to the room when she saw how many people were down there. She’d never seen so many people in one home before. Or even a stadium!
“This is your family?” She blinked, certain she wasn’t seeing this right. “Just your family?”
Duncan paused for a look. “Most of them, I think.” He gave her a quick hug. “Don’t worry. They’ll love you.”
When they entered the foyer, Rebel noted it had been set up with long tables and was laden with every sort of food she could imagine and some things she’d never seen before.
“Where did all the food come from? Surely Lupe didn’t do all this.”
“No. Rule is if you want to eat, you bring something to share.”
“But we didn’t bring anything!”
“You provided a very valuable service last night, so you’re off the hook.”
Rebel gaped at him. Was he serious? Had he really just said that?
Duncan let out a full-blown belly laugh at her response. “I meant about helping with my grandfather.”
“Oh, my. I thought you meant—”
“I know what you thought.” His chuckle was warm in her ear. “Get your mind out of the gutter, and let’s go see how he is. Then we can eat and enjoy.” With a squeeze to her shoulder, he released her.
“I’m so embarrassed.” That awful flush she hated race from her chest up over her neck and cheeks.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not offended.”
“Okay. So let’s go see him before I say anything else stupid.”
“Tio Duncan!” a young male voice called out, seconds before a little body launched himself at Duncan. He caught the young man up in his arms with a laugh.
“Pablo! ¿Como está?”
Duncan spoke in a mixture of Spanish and English to the little boy, then turned to Rebel. “Pablo, this is my friend, Rebel. She’s a nurse and helped me to take care of Great-grandpa last night.”
“Gracias, amiga.” He leaned over and pulled Rebel into a one-armed hug from his perch in Duncan’s arms. “Is Great-grandpa okay?”
“We’re going to check on him right now. He’ll be just fine, you’ll see.”
“Come here, monkey.” Another male voice approached them from behind, and Pablo released his stranglehold on Rebel’s neck. The little boy reached for the man Rebel assumed was his father, who placed him on the floor. “Go find your cousins.” Pablo raced off toward a small table set up for the young ones, heedless of the art and artifacts on nearby tables.
A man about the same age as Duncan approached. Instinctively, Rebel drew back a little. The man was intense with eyes that seemed to look deep down inside her.
“Rey, stop scaring her.” He gave a handshake, a fist bump and a hug to the man, then turned to Rebel. “He’s a cop and likes to intimidate everyone.”
“Well, it worked.” A hesitant smile covered Rebel’s face. “I’m Rebel Taylor.”
Rey shook her hand and the cop eyes disappeared as he gave her the once-over in obvious appreciation. “Nice to meet you, Rebel.” Then he pulled her into a quick, unexpected hug. “Thank you for helping him last night. He’s a tough old bird, but I don’t know what we’d do without him.”
“Hey man, back off. She’s taken, and you’re married.” Duncan tapped his cousin on the shoulder.
“Okay, fine.” He reached for a plate, more focused on the food than Rebel.
“We’re going to check on him. Don’t eat everything before we get back.” Duncan gave his cousin a warning.
“No guarantees.” He took a plate from the large stack and got into the line behind his relatives.
“Come on. I’m sure he’s been waiting on us since dawn.”
“He’s an early riser, then?”
Duncan snorted. “Late to bed, gets up early, I don’t know how he does it at his age.”
After a quick knock on the bedroom door, Duncan pressed down on the handle and pushed the door wide.
“About damned time you two came to see me. I could be dead a week before you’d know.” His booming voice thundered through the room.
Duncan grinned. “I see you’ve survived your night and are back to your usual charming self.”
Rebel hid a smile and bit her lips together. It was good to see the man’s coloring had improved, the oxygen was nowhere in sight, and he was dressed and ready for the day.
“Charming?” He offered a crooked smile and a foxy gleam in his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called charming in my life.”
“You can be sure of that!” Lupe said from the bathroom. “He’s never even pretended to be charming as long as I’ve known him. Maybe my English word is not right, but cantankerous sounds good.”
At that, Duncan laughed out loud and met Rebel’s gaze. There was something in that moment, a shared intimacy that tugged at Rebel’s heart. Then it occurred to her. She was building memories with Duncan. Her heart thumped and her breath hitched. Looking into his eyes, with the laugh lines fanning outward, she knew she was falling for him much harder than she’d ever expected.
Then, in seconds, the moment was gone as he turned to Rafael.
“Let’s have a look at you.” Duncan opened the medical kit beside the bed and extracted the stethoscope, listened to his heart and lungs and gave a sharp nod. “All that fluid you had in your lungs is gone.”
“It damned well better be. I spent half the night in the toilet.” He glared at Rebel, but she only raised her brows.
“Yes?”
“No thanks to you.” He held his hard stare at her.
“I didn’t do anything.” The stare was returned with equal intensity. She could handle herself again this morning, and he wasn’t going to shake her up like he had yesterday.
“You gave me that medicine.” He glared harder, but she was nonplussed.
Rebel snorted and nodded at Duncan. “He told me to!”
Rafael snorted right back. “And you do everything he tells you to?”
“Not hardly. But it was the right thing to do at the time.” She raised her chin, holding his gaze, and her confidence strengthened.
Rafael held a hand out to her, and she crossed the room to take it. “Thank you, my dear. I appreciate your help.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “You’ve made an old man feel good again.” He gave a sigh. “And I do apologize for my behavior yesterday. It was uncalled for, and I hope you accept my deepest regrets. Maybe, if you come back, we can have a better time.”
Her gaze sought Duncan, and he stood there, his mouth hanging slightly open. A piercing wail from the bathroom drew their immediate attention. Lupe stood, holding her apron over her face, sobbing into her hands.
“Lupe, what’s wrong?” Rebel released Rafael’s hand to comfort the woman.
“Why didn’t you tell me he’s going to die?” She covered her face again and sobbed her heart out.
“No, he’s not. Why would you say that?” In desperation, Rebel looked at Duncan for help.

CHAPTER TEN (#uae9fe1b6-71bd-54f7-a982-ee012a3dfc84)
“HE’S NOT DYING.” Blandly, Duncan confirmed her statement.
“But…he’s being…nice, he apologized, he never does that!”
Rebel gave an eye-roll and then looked at Rafael. “You really should be nicer.”
“Why? She’d cry more then.” He glared at Lupe, but softened it with a little smile and held out his hand to her. “Come here, woman. I’m fine.”
“Oh, please, everyone. It’s just fine. He’s fine, and I’m starving.” Duncan took Rebel’s hand and led her to the door. “Come out so no one thinks you’re dying, okay?”
Rafael just grinned. The old goat.
“He’s such a pain sometimes.” Duncan shook his head but his touch on her was gentle as he took her to the table. They made their way along the line, filling their plates, and Duncan introduced her to entirely too many people. Their names would never stick in her brain, she was certain of it.
After lingering over the meal and sharing coffee with the family out on the portál, Lupe approached Duncan and Rebel.
“The clinic is set up.”
“Clinic, what clinic?” Rebel had no idea what they were talking about.
“When I come for a visit, I run a health clinic for a few hours. These folks are the poorest of the poor, most of them come from Old Mexico and have never had regular health or dental care. They have issues stemming from lifelong malnutrition and chronic illnesses. We hope we can help them out and the children that are born here will be better cared for right from the start.”
“I didn’t know any of this.” She frowned. New Mexico was not a developing country, but what he was describing certainly sounded like it. “Most people I come into contact with in the ER have health insurance.”
“These folks don’t.” He shrugged and looked away, but she could tell he cared deeply about these people who worked on his family ranch. “Some of these folks have worked here their entire lives. Poverty, lack of education, and cultural biases have kept them this way. Slowly, we’re helping change their outlook. The kids are blossoming.” He tried to hide it, but a burst of pride pulled his shoulders back. “We even have a daycare and an elementary school on the ranch.”
“That’s amazing.” She leaned I closer to him. “I’m so proud of what you are doing here.” Truly she was. She’d never met a man like Duncan.
“I wish we could do more, but there aren’t enough resources and it’s a seasonal business.”
“Well, what can we do today?” Doing things for others had always helped keep her focus off her family tragedy and doing good works never went out of style.
“Let’s go see what the troops have set up.” Duncan took her hand in his firm grip and led her out to the staging area.
“During chili season we use this open-air shed to roast the chili and get it ready for locals. There’s nothing fresher than produce just picked and roasted within a few hours. Today I have a clinic in it.”
“So, what kinds of health issues do you see with your workers?” Though she’d worked in the ER for years, farming accidents weren’t something she’d had a lot of experience with.
“A lot of things are farming related, like cuts and other injuries sustained from using heavy machinery. Other things are minor, like tetanus shots, or colds and flu.” He shrugged. “The usual stuff.”
“You do good work, here, Duncan.” Indeed. He was not just some pretty face playing around at being a doctor. He had a heart dedicated to service to others that was very appealing to her.
“I’d like to do more of it, but at the moment there’s just not enough of me to go around.” That brought some pain to him. This was a group of people who could use his skills, not the people who held fund-raisers and had never set foot in a barrio.
They stepped around the large machine shed to a line of people that looked a mile long and her eyes widened. “Wow. That’s a lot of people.”
“I know.” He grinned. “Not doing anything else the rest of the day, are you?” He patted her shoulder, then let his hand linger there for a second. She was so different from women he’d known. That little alarm inside him started to go off, reminding him again that she could leave him at any moment and he’d best not set himself up for getting hurt again. Then he shook it off, reminding himself there was work to do now.
“Uh, no. No, I’m not.” She straightened her shoulders, ready for whatever would come up. She was an experienced ER nurse. She could handle whatever they had. Except…“I don’t speak Spanish. What do you want me to do?”
“The boys will help with translation for you. You can start with vital signs and triage, get a little info, then send them over to me. You’re over there.” He pointed to a long table where hand sanitizer, index cards for writing down information, and a blood-pressure cuff lay.
Duncan’s area even had a screen so people would have some semblance of privacy.
Jake and Judd stood by, ready to help with translation. With a last look at Duncan as he walked away, she put on her best nurse smile and accepted the first patient into her triage station.
They spent about four hours on mundane issues before a patient of concern surfaced. As Duncan had foretold, the majority of the issues were farm related or other minor complaints. Then a boy with a serious face was plunked down into the chair by his father.
“Hi, there.” Her welcoming smile faded. Usually she liked working with pediatric patients because they always had some interesting take on their situation or made up a grand and glorious tale about their injuries.
But not this.
Something was seriously wrong about his situation. She didn’t know what, but, watching the boy interact with his father, she knew something was off.
This little boy of about six years old was too thin for his age and bone structure. His hair had been cropped very short, as was the custom, but she could see scratch marks on his scalp, and a little bald spot where the hair was worn away. The child didn’t look at her but kept his eyes downcast, a sure sign of insecurity. He was not as frisky as the other children. Then the boy looked up at her and his eyes widened, fixating on her red hair that the wind had begun to tease from its clip.
“What’s the problem?” she asked his father, who had distant black eyes. He made eye contact but dropped his gaze quickly.
“He…no…” Frustrated with his attempt at English, he launched into a monologue in Spanish about the boy’s problems, pointed to the bald spot on his head and then at the boy’s back.
“His father says that he’s always hurting himself, falling down or tripping, and then the spot on his head, he keeps rubbing it, and if he doesn’t stop is going to be bald before he’s seven years old.”
A smile curved up her lips at that last statement. “It’s okay. He won’t be bald, but we do have to figure out the reason he’s rubbing the spot.” She held out a piece of candy to him. First his gaze flashed to his father, then he accepted it and focused on unwrapping the little sweet. “Kids his age, especially boys, are accident prone. They run full blast and don’t see the hazards, so he’ll stop falling if he stops running so fast.” She waited while Judd interpreted that part.
“What’s your name?”
“Alejandro.” He bobbed his head politely.
“Is his mother here? I could talk to her about some things she can do to help keep him calm, from a woman’s perspective.” She’d had lots of training in pediatrics, and now seemed a good time to share some of it.
Judd hunkered over and whispered to her. “Mother’s not in the picture. Died last year. He’s raising the boy alone.”
A sick feeling turned in Rebel’s gut. No child should have to suffer the loss of a parent at that age. She knew exactly what it was like. An ache formed inside her, and she just wanted to reach out, gather the little boy against her and never let go of him. He was an innocent victim and his injuries may have been an attempt to gain his father’s attention.
“Let me check him and listen to his lungs, look at his injuries and then we’ll have the doctor look at him, too.” She set about her tasks, but when she placed the stethoscope on his back he winced and cried out.
Rebel pulled up his shirt to look at his back. “Oh!” She nearly cried out in pain for the boy. “What happened?” She shot a questioning look at the father. “This time.”
“He fell from the high loft in the hay barn,” Judd translated. “He and the other kids were playing a game, and he lost his grip on the rope and fell.”
“You’re kidding, right?” She reached for the boy’s hands. Healing rope burns gave evidence to Pedro’s explanation. With a shake of her head, she took Alejandro’s chin in her hand and gently tilted his face up until he looked at her. He blinked, as if coming back to himself, and rolled the candy around in his mouth until he’d tucked it into one cheek. “You have to be more careful, little man. You hurt yourself too much.”
After Judd had interpreted for the boy, he shrugged. “I…okay,” he said, demonstrating some understanding of English.
“You can hurt yourself doing things like that.”
He only grinned and resumed playing with the candy in his mouth.
“If his mother is…gone, then what does he do during the day? Who takes care of him?”
The father offered an explanation, which was then translated. “He goes to school during the day, then comes home and one of the neighbor kids looks out for him while Pedro is still working. He won’t stay in the daycare.”
Rebel couldn’t help but imagine what she would do if she were closer at hand. Children were at risk for injuries and death if left unsupervised as they didn’t have the capacity to determine risk compared to what the perceived fun would be. She pressed her lips together and tried to resist the primal mothering urge that had begun to surface. If only…
“Pedro says he doesn’t know what to do with him. The boy won’t stay in the house after school, just runs and runs and runs as soon as he’s off the bus. That’s why he’s so skinny.” Judd listened again to Pedro. “He wants to know if there is a medicine or something Duncan can give him to make him behave better.”
“I’m sorry, Pedro. This isn’t a matter of medication, but may be the only way for him to express his grief at the loss of his mother.” Pedro nodded, opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, then pressed his lips firmly together and turned away. Rebel could see the frustration and anger in him. “Children often need to cry in order to get those feelings they don’t understand out of them.”
Pedro pointed at his son, anger blazing in his eyes. “No cry. He no cry.” He launched into another explanation to Judd.
“When Pedro’s wife died, it was because she was an alcoholic. He doesn’t want Alejandro to cry for a woman who chose the bottle over them.”
So misunderstood. Grief had grabbed this family by the throat and hadn’t let go. They needed to be in counseling, but how to suggest it to a man still entrenched in the angry phase of grief was beyond her comprehension.
“Duncan, I need your help.” Though she spoke to him, she busied herself with taking Alejandro’s blood pressure.
“What’s up?” Duncan stepped closer and nodded to Pedro, spoke a few words of greeting.
“Kid’s got a case of Superman syndrome.”
“A what?”
“Superman. Thinks he’s invincible, and is into serious risk taking.”
“What is he, six?” Duncan glanced at the kid and frowned.
“Still thinks he’s Superman. Just needs a cape.” After relaying the list of injuries his father had reported and the escalation of them, she turned his hands over to show the rope burns to Duncan.
“So what’s really going on?” That was the question. There was always something behind a person’s behavior, a motivation, even if they were six years old and didn’t know it. She explained the loss of his mother and the emotionally distant father to Duncan as quickly as possible.
He sat with a sigh and examined Alejandro, speaking in Spanish. Pedro seemed to relax a little as he listened to Duncan. Then Pedro stiffened. “No.” He grabbed Alejandro by the hand and began to walk away. Rebel let out a gasp of distress and looked at Duncan.
“You can’t let him just walk away like that. We have to do something more.” There was always something to be done. Alejandro turned to look over his shoulder at her and her heart nearly broke at his big brown eyes beseeching her to do something.
“Uno momento, Pedro,” Duncan said, and the man stopped, but his leg twitched in his eagerness to get away from the situation. Some men couldn’t handle emotion and either ran from it or covered it with anger. Pedro was obviously a runner, so his son came by it naturally. Duncan motioned for the man to return the boy to the chair and spoke to him in Spanish.
Fortunately, the man responded, nodding now and then. Rebel gingerly lifted the boy’s shirt to have a better look at the wounds he’d sustained in the fall while Judd translated. “It’s okay, little man. I’m going to take care of you, don’t worry about anything.” She applied a non-sting wound spray to cleanse the open areas on his back and then a soothing ointment to prevent infection. The wounds on his hands were nearly healed, but she was sure they had hurt like crazy.
Responding to her gentle touch, the boy looked at her, hesitation in his eyes, as if he’d not known much mothering in his short life. He reached out to touch a stray lock of her hair. With careful focus, he took the strand and wrapped it around his finger. A curious expression covered his face, as if he hadn’t ever seen such a thing, and he probably hadn’t. Then he released it and it sprang back against her shoulder, and he grinned.
“Nice to meet you, Alejandro. I’m Rebel.” She shook his hand and noted he had a pretty strong grip. But she could tell he was definitely underweight.
He bobbed his head, but didn’t take his eyes off of her hair. “Buenas dias, señorita.”
Duncan patted Pedro on his shoulder. The man still stood stiffly with his arms crossed, his back to the child, but at least he hadn’t left.
“What did you say to him?”
“I told him he and the boy both needed some support. We’ll pay for it, but we’d really like him to go.” Duncan cast a glance at Pedro. “He’s not happy about it, but says he will try. At least it’s a start.”
He took a breath and let it out in a huff. He squatted by Alejandro and spoke to him, getting more information than Rebel could. She didn’t know what he was saying, but in a few seconds Alejandro gave a grin and then looked up at Rebel, his eyes sparkling for the first time since he’d arrived.
“What did you say to him?” She played along, pleased to see a light of humor in those defeated eyes.
“I told him you were an Irish fairy come here just to help him.” Though his face was stoic, there was a playful light in his eyes she responded to.
“Me? A fairy?” Seriously? At her height? “Aren’t they tiny little creatures and have tiny little wings?”
“I told him the only way you could tell a real Irish fairy was that they had beautiful, curly red hair and an impish gleam in their remarkable green eyes, but you had to look closely to find it.”
“Duncan,” she said. Her heart fluttering wildly at his words. The only glint in her eyes had recently been put there by him. And a fresh beating of her heart.
“Hey, you made him smile again, and that’s a beautiful thing.” He held her gaze for a second longer then broke away to answer Alejandro’s next question. “The other ladies around have tried to offer some mothering, but he hasn’t bonded with any of them. Until you.”
Alejandro distracted Duncan with another question, and he turned to answer the boy.
“He really likes you, you know?” Judd said, and gave her a playful poke in the arm.
“Well, he’s a sweet kid.”
“I mean Duncan. He really likes you.”
Rebel gave an assessing look at Judd. Was it true? Did Duncan really like her in the way Judd meant or was Duncan just having a good time while she was present and would move on to the next woman when he realized she could never give him what he needed? Was that reality or just her own fears surfacing?
“Oh. Yes. Well.” Flustered, she didn’t know what to say.
Duncan stood and the moment was over.
The tension that had eased resurfaced again when Pedro collected Alejandro. There was nothing to be done at the moment. Time would heal, eventually, but Rebel wanted to do something else to help him. To take him in her arms and rock him to sleep, the way he should have been all of his life. The boy went reluctantly with his father, casting longing glances at Rebel. As if the Irish fairy could help him.
A pain filled her heart as she watched him walk away.
What had started out as a lovely day had faded into a low hum of concern for Alejandro. Somehow she needed to figure out a way to get back here and help. Something in her called to this little boy, and she wanted to be around for him. Farming accidents were fairly common and if something happened to Pedro, what would happen to Alejandro?
She imagined she and Duncan would be heading back to Albuquerque soon and this lovely weekend would be committed to the memory books of her mind. She couldn’t imagine another weekend being more wonderful. Or more impossible to hang on to. There was just no way she could be what Duncan wanted or needed. After seeing him, his family, the way they were, this had to be just a one-time event. She just didn’t have it in her to be what he needed, and there was no way she would taint this family with her genes.
“Come here, children,” Lupe instructed, and ushered them from the heat of the outdoors to the cool interior of the home. Ceiling fans ran in every room and the windows were left open a few inches in order to facilitate circulation. The adobe structure needed no artificial cooling.
Rebel and Duncan settled at a large wooden table where several of Duncan’s older female relatives sat. Duncan introduced her to the matriarchs of the family, who all seemed to study her.
“They mean no harm, they’re just curious about you.” He took her hand. “As I’ve not brought many lady friends here, they are taking the opportunity to determine whether I’m worthy of you.” These ladies who had helped to raise him loved him, but didn’t always trust his judgment in women. That made him laugh. They were so right. At least up until now.
“Don’t you mean that the other way around?”
“No. Once you helped out with Rafael, they decided you were made of gold and can do no wrong.” He grinned. “I’m the one in the hot seat.”
“I see. I like them already.” Was she really seeing this? Was his family already taking her under their wings as one of their own? He looked at her as if he saw her, saw who she really was. That frightened her. She sipped her coffee and realized Lupe must have put a dash of red chili in the coffee as well. It had a nip to it. Or maybe it was the close proximity to Duncan and all he represented that made her sweat. The temperature was definitely going up.
“Tell me, dear, where are you from?” one of the aunties asked her. Before she could respond, Duncan’s phone rang, and he got up to answer it then glanced at Rebel and moved farther away. That was curious. Made her wonder if it was work.
Lupe made the introductions as to who was the oldest and the youngest and the ladies began to argue about who looked the best and who had the best hair and the fewest wrinkles among them. Rebel couldn’t help but be engaged and put at ease by these women.
The laugh in Rebel’s throat caught when Duncan reentered the room. Something was wrong. It was in his eyes, in his walk, in the energy around him. He looked only at her, and her heart sank. Somehow she knew this news was only for her.
And it was bad.
She stood, nearly knocking over her chair. “What is it? I know it’s bad, just tell me.”

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