Her Favorite Cowboy. Mary Leo

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Her Favorite Cowboy - Mary Leo


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swirling red lights from their ambulance pulsed in through the windows and stained the walls with their fiery color.

      “Gramps, stop being so obstinate. I’ll be right there with you.”

      “You ain’t been with me since you was a kid. Don’t think you can tell me what to do now. I can make my own decisions.”

      Cori quickly realized their relationship was in even worse shape than Gage had led her to believe.

      She reached out and took Mr. Remington’s hand. “I knew a Buck when I was in medical school. He was a kind, thoughtful, easy-going man. I think those traits go along with the name. I have a feeling you probably didn’t eat a meal for a long time, and because of that, you might not be your sweet self. Your grandson only wants what’s best for you, and so do I.”

      Buck nodded, staring into Cori’s eyes. His demeanor changed and Cori could see the tension drain from his body. He relaxed his shoulders, and gently squeezed her hand.

      Cori worked on instinct and purposely stopped herself from thinking about what she was doing or saying despite the fact that she had started second-guessing herself a few months back.

      Her self-doubt and stress had caused her to walk away from her ER position at Manhattan Central Hospital for some much-needed rest and reassessment. She’d been chronically fatigued for weeks from lack of sleep. And after nearly running off the road with her nine-year-old daughter Hailey in the car on their way home from another school event that Cori had all but missed, she knew her life had to change.

      Those changes began with her turning in her resignation.

      Up until that moment, Cori had thought she could do it all. Now she wasn’t so sure she could do anything right, and that included diagnosing hypoglycemia in an elderly man with the appropriate symptoms.

      She gazed at her patient and saw all the fear and loneliness in his light blue eyes.

      He couldn’t seem to stop staring at her, as if he was trying to place where he’d seen her before, but Cori knew that wasn’t possible.

      “Rose? What are you doing here, Rose? I thought you were...”

      “My name is Cori, Mr. Remington. I’m not Rose.”

      He hesitated for a second, smiled and whispered, “You remind me of my wife. Same color hair and eyes. And your voice, there’s something familiar about your voice. She was a looker just like you, and a real spitfire. That woman could get me to eat hay if she asked me to. Always kept me on a schedule. Since she passed, I don’t know when to eat or what to eat. I’m all mixed up. It ain’t right that she left first. Ain’t right at all.”

      “My grandmother passed a couple years ago,” Gage told her.

      She understood Buck’s despair much better now. She could identify with it.

      “It’s hard losing someone you love, especially your soul mate. Believe me, I know how you feel. I lost my husband five years ago. He took a piece of my heart that I’ll never get back. But he wanted me to go on and be well and love again. I’m sure Rose wanted the same for you. You need to take care of yourself for Rose.”

      His defenses seemed to tumble down, and she saw only love in his eyes. “She always took good care of me.”

      “Then don’t let her down. Please allow these competent professionals to take you to the hospital to run a few tests. I’m sure it won’t take very long, and if everything goes well, your grandson will have you back here in time for the barbecue tonight.”

      Gage’s eyes were moist as he turned to his grandfather. “We’ll get you fixed up, Gramps. I’m here now, and I’ll see to it that you get everything you need.”

      “Thanks, son,” Buck told him as he allowed one of the EMTs to help him into a wheelchair and roll him out of the lobby.

      Cori and Gage stood, and at once she caught a whiff of cinnamon mixed with citrus. Nothing heavy. It was more aromatic than anything else. She gazed around the room, wondering if there was a candle burning or if perhaps there was a plate of cookies on the front desk, but she couldn’t see anything.

      Gage took her hand in his, running his thumb over the back of her hand. His touch sent a shiver through her.

      “Are you always this amazing?” he asked.

      “Your grandfather’s the one who’s amazing. I merely did what I was trained to do.”

      “Thank you.”

      She glanced out the front window. The ambulance was getting ready to leave.

      “You better get going.”

      “Will you be here when we get back?”

      “All five days.”

      “Great.”

      And he took off out the front door, leaving Cori to wonder what exactly he meant by that. Cori hadn’t come on this trip with her gram looking for anything other than some time to heal and rethink her chosen profession. Meeting a pseudo cowboy hadn’t been part of her idea of healing, and she certainly didn’t want to add any complications to her already taxed life.

      But still...

      As it turned out, Doctor Cori Parker had been right about Gage’s grandfather collapsing from acute hypoglycemia. Other than a low iron count and some arthritis in his joints, Gramps was in excellent health for a man in his seventies. All those years of cowboying had done well by him. Of course, they hadn’t done much for his ornery disposition.

      “I don’t need no rest up in the room,” Gramps told Gage in no uncertain terms as they entered the hotel’s front lobby once again. “We got ourselves an opening talk and a barbecue to attend. There ain’t nothing short of death that’s gonna stop me from enjoying every part of this here conference.”

      Gage decided it was easier to simply roll with the program than to continue arguing his point. “Whatever you say, Gramps. You know best.”

      His grandfather gave him a little harrumph and moved on ahead of Gage in the direction of the Henry Strater Theater where the event had been planned. By now everyone would be in line for what was sure to be a Western treat with some fine Colorado beef, chicken and all the trimmings for a real down-home kind of meal, something Gage hadn’t experienced in too many years to remember. His ex-wife’s parents had come close several times, but a pot roast was little substitution for a rack of ribs and grilled chicken.

      Gage tried to keep up, but his grandfather seemed to want to prove that he was “fit as a fiddle,” a saying his gramps liked to use, and had already disappeared around the corner of the lobby. In truth, now that his gramps was feeling better, with no side-effects from his collapse, all Gage could think about was Cori Parker. She’d been on his mind ever since he’d met her, and despite all his efforts to shake her free, he seemed to be stuck wanting to see her again, if for nothing else but to thank her for taking such good care of his grandfather.

      But that had to be it.

      He’d thank her and let it go at that.

      Nothing more.

      There would be no getting involved no matter how intoxicating her eyes were, or the sultry curve of her lips, or the way she had soothed his worries when his grandfather was in crisis.

      He reminded himself that she was merely doing her job. Something she’d been trained to do. His grandfather could have been any number of people in need and the treatment would have been exactly the same. Sure, she’d been extra kind and compassionate when she learned about his grandmother’s passing, but weren’t all doctors trained to be empathetic to the elderly?

      He tried to think of her as just another doctor when he spotted her standing in front of the open doors to the theater. With one glance, his breath caught in his throat, and


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