A Marriage In Wyoming

“Oh, no.”

“Can you top that?”

“I don’t think so. Most of my bad dates were with guys who thought buying dinner entitled them to play doctor afterward.”

“Rude.” He waited while Terri set their plates down and left again. “I promise to keep my hands to myself.” After a moment, he winked. “Tonight.”

Rachel frowned at him. “You’re a problem.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes, giving the delicious food the appreciation it deserved. “At least now I know where to come for a decent meal,” she said when her hunger had been eased. “I don’t have to depend on peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches.”

“You’re not a cook?”

“I can make a salad, boil pasta or bake a potato in the microwave. Being a doctor hasn’t offered much opportunity to develop complex cooking skills.”

“So what do you do on your days off?”

“There haven’t been many of those. But I usually go for a run if I’ve got an hour of daylight. And I like to read.”

Garrett grinned at her. “See, we do have something in common. I like to read, too. What do you read?”

“Not religious texts.”

“We were talking about free time. And you’re determined to pigeonhole me, aren’t you?”

She pushed her empty plate away. “I’m a doctor. That role defines my whole life. You’re a minister. Wouldn’t you say the same?”

“But you’re also a runner and a reader. And probably a few other things I’ve yet to discover. I’m a minister, yes, but I also work on a ranch. I rode bucking broncs in the rodeo. I volunteer with at-risk kids. I’m a brother and soon to be a brother-in-law to a friend of yours. Do you have family?”

Rachel swallowed hard. “No.”

He studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowed. “You lost somebody recently.”

She shook her head. “Not so recent. My mom died two years ago.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice was gentle. “You still miss her.”

Just like that, tears stung her eyes. For something to do, Rachel picked up her glass and took a long swallow of water. Blinking hard, she said, “Sorry. I must be tired.”

“No problem. Losing a parent is tough. If you ever want to talk about it, I’ll be glad to listen.”

“That’s okay.” She sent him a forced smile. “I’m fine.”

“Dessert?” Terri asked, appearing suddenly beside them. “We’ve got fresh lemon meringue pie.”

The idea of so much sugar after a day spent dealing with diabetes didn’t appeal to Rachel. “Just some coffee, please.”

“Me, too,” Garrett said. “Then I’ll help you get your car unloaded.”

“No, please,” Rachel started. “I can manage—”

“But it will go faster with two people working at it.” He winked again. “You can’t get rid of me. You might as well give in.”

“Then you can let me take care of dinner.” When Terri put the check on the table, Rachel managed to get her fingers on it first. “So there.”

He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I recognize when resistance is futile. But I will get even.”

Darkness had fallen before they arrived at the clinic. Rachel stared through the truck window at the building she’d visited only briefly this morning. “Seems like days ago I arrived.” She blew out a deep breath and turned to Garrett. “You should go home.”

“Soon. You don’t even know where your apartment is, do you?”

“Sure I do. Evans Street.”

“How do you get there from here?”

“Caroline sent me a map...”

“Just get in your vehicle and let me lead the way. You can worry about maps tomorrow.”

Suddenly too tired to protest, Rachel did as she was instructed. In five minutes, they pulled up at the curb in front of an older two-story house with a wraparound porch.

Garrett came to her window. “This is it. You’ve got Caroline for an upstairs neighbor, though she’s not here much this summer. Luckily, the first-floor tenant moved out just at the right moment to give you a home.”

“It seems to be a nice place.” She pulled the key she’d been sent out of her purse. “So far, so good.”

The interior was cozy, filled with secondhand furniture that appeared comfortable, if a little dated and dusty. The kitchen was bigger than Rachel would need, the bathroom smaller than she would have preferred. “This will work for me,” she said as she and Garrett approached her car. “Compared to the places I lived during med school, it’s a palace.”

He pulled a couple of suitcases out of the back of the SUV. “We make sacrifices when we really want something, don’t we?”

She didn’t answer because it disturbed her that he understood what she’d been through without having to be told. He was altogether too easy to talk to, too perceptive and too easygoing. It would be better if he got angry or at least annoyed when she resisted him. Instead, he just smiled.

In a few short minutes, all the belongings she’d labored to fit into her vehicle were set in convenient places around her new apartment. Garrett put the last box of books on the coffee table and straightened. “Do you have more stuff coming?”

“No, this is it. I got rid of a lot of things before I left Seattle. I wanted to start new here.”

“An admirable plan.” He put his hands in his pockets. “I should leave and let you settle in. Thanks again for helping out with Lena today—it made a big difference to have a doctor available to deal with this crisis. You’re going to be a real benefit to this community.”

“I’m glad I could help.” She followed him as he walked to the door. “Thank you for helping carry all this inside. It would have taken me a lot longer. And I’m pretty tired.”

“My pleasure.” He faced her at the door. “Justino and I will be heading to the hospital in the morning. Can I pick you up?”

“I’m meeting with my new nurse early tomorrow,” she said, determined to set some limits. “But I’ll check on Lena as soon as possible. I’m sure the doctors on staff have her condition under control. I’ve applied for privileges at the hospital, but I’m not currently Lena’s doctor. And—” she gave him a pointed look “—I’m not her family.”

“Of course. It’s just been such a relief to have someone around who really understands what’s happening.” His serious blue gaze captured hers. “Your support meant a lot to me today.”

The hall light was dim, and they stared at each other in the shadows. The moment seemed more intimate than it should, more important.

“Good night, Rachel Vale,” he said finally, his voice low.

“Good night, Garrett Marshall.” She wanted to break the connection between them but couldn’t quite seem to do it.

Then he bent forward and kissed her on the cheek. The press of his lips burned like a brand. “Sleep well.” His boot heels thudded on the porch floor as he walked quickly away.

Rachel didn’t watch him drive off. That would be foolish and romantic, neither of which she intended to be. She was practical and logical, she told herself as she went into the bedroom, rational and pragmatic.

Rummaging through her overnight bag for pajamas and a toothbrush, she assured herself that there wasn’t a mark on her cheek from that kiss, and proved it when she went into the bathroom and turned on the light over the sink.

But she could still feel his lips on her cheek when she put her head on the pillow and tried to fall asleep.

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