Their Forever Family

“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

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.