Claimed By The Cowboy. Sarah M. Anderson
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you give me a few minutes?”
A grin twisted Carson’s lips. “Given how she was trying to kill you with looks alone, you might need more than a few minutes.”
“I didn’t come here for her,” Josh said in as good-natured a tone as he could manage. “Let me get this settled, and then we can go somewhere and get a beer and you can fill me in on what the hell has been happening around here.” As if he could just “settle” the matter of Lucy when she was clearly out for blood.
Carson looked defeated. “That’s going to take a lot more than one beer,” he said. “Go on. Another five minutes isn’t going to change anything.”
“Thanks.” Josh took a deep breath and began to follow Lucy Wilde.
Except she wasn’t Lucy, not anymore. Lucy had been a wide-eyed, freckled girl who had been wildly in love with his best friend, Gary Everly. Josh had actually liked her—he’d liked her quite a bit. She’d had a dry sense of humor and a sharp wit that she only used when people had her backed into a corner, which they did at their own risk. She’d been smart—smarter than either of the boys.
And she’d loved Gary. It hadn’t mattered that he’d been sick. More times than he could count, Josh had caught Lucy gazing at Gary with unabashed adoration. It had never bothered him. Really. Lucy had been one of the best things to happen to Gary, and Josh had not begrudged his childhood friend the little bit of happiness Lucy was able to bring him in a dark time.
Josh had tried to make Gary happy, too. Minigolf, cow tipping, the movies—together, they’d made a hell of a group, tearing up Cedar Point, Iowa. He’d had the car and the Calhoun cash; Gary had had his bucket list; and Lucy had kept them from doing anything truly stupid. In fact, if Josh was remembering things correctly, it’d been Lucy who’d passed judgment on whomever Josh had dated. A lot of the time, they’d been a foursome.
But a lot of the time...it’d just been the three of them. Him, her and Gary.
Until Gary had died. Four days before his eighteenth birthday. Of leukemia. Because his folks hadn’t been able to afford to bring him to Chicago or anyplace that had a really good oncology department.
Not that it would have mattered. After all, Sydney had had access to the best medical care in the country and it hadn’t been enough to save her.
Josh was already clinging to his sanity by his fingernails just being back in Chicago, but to suddenly find himself confronted with Lucy Wilde and Gary’s memory was almost too much. He wanted to bail and go back to his cows and stay far away from the people he loved because that was the best way of keeping them safe.
He did not want Lucy Wilde to remind him of yet another person he’d lost.
Not that he had a lot of choice in the matter. He walked toward her slowly so that he could try to put his thoughts in order. This was not the same girl he remembered. Oh, sure, she still had on a massive pair of eyeglasses that gave her an owlish appearance. And the only thing that seemed to have changed about her stick-straight blond hair was that she had pulled it up into a bun. But half of her hair had worked itself free and fell around her face and shoulders, making her look ethereal.
Josh almost smiled. Lucy had never had a head for fashion or style and, given that she was wearing a shapeless doctor’s coat over equally shapeless black trousers and a mannish blue button-up blouse, that hadn’t changed, either.
But the fire in her eyes? That was something new. Something that had made him come to a screeching halt and stare at her in openmouthed wonder.
The way he had the last time he’d seen her.
She reached her destination and spun, glaring at him. Her toe began to tap and he wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d pulled out a phone and checked the time.
“It’s good to see you again, Lucy,” he began.
He didn’t get any further than that. “What are you doing here?” At least she kept her voice to a fierce whisper.
“Like I said, I’m friends with the Newport boys. They called me and asked for help sorting out this mess.”
“Don’t give me that,” she snapped. “Because rolling up here and turning on all of your charm to convince my patient’s family that he would be best served outside the hospital is not exactly how I wanted to see you again, Joshua Calhoun.”
Ouch. She was busting out the Joshua already. So much for warm, fuzzy reunions. But he couldn’t help himself. Teasing Lucy had been so much fun because she always gave so much better than she got. He heard himself slipping right back into it. “So, how did you want to see me again?”
If looks could kill, he would probably need emergency medical help right now. “I didn’t.”
There wasn’t a single thing about this situation that should make him smile, but he did. “I’m just going to go out on a limb here, but you seem upset with me.”
Her eyes widened at the challenge. “Oh? Do you think? No. You obviously don’t. Because if you did think, you would remember...” Abruptly, her voice trailed off into a new emotional place, replacing the anger that flamed out all over her face.
It almost looked painful.
He didn’t like that pained look. Because he did remember. He remembered quite clearly. What had happened between them—it wasn’t the sort of thing a man forgot. He may not think about it every single day of his life. But, no, he hadn’t forgotten about going to Gary’s funeral and Lucy clinging to his hand the whole time and then pulling him out back at the wake and telling him that she needed him, needed him so badly because she hurt so much and she just wanted to not hurt and would he...
“Oh, my God,” Lucy gasped, recoiling in horror. “Stop. Stop right there.”
Josh shook himself. He was pretty sure he hadn’t said anything out loud. “What?”
“Don’t.” Somehow her eyes got even wider and, behind her thick glasses, even more owlish. Her back straightened and he realized that, despite the fact that she was wearing an almost sexless doctor’s uniform, she wasn’t the same girl he remembered. She was taller and, with her shoulders squared, he could see that a woman’s curves filled out her body.
If she’d had those curves back then...
“Don’t what?” he asked, although he knew that was a lame dodge. She’d always been so incredibly perceptive, and as for him—well, he’d always been an open book. He’d only ever been able to hide one thing from her—exactly how much he’d liked her.
The only other woman he’d never been able to hide anything from was Sydney.
Which meant Lucy had realized exactly what he’d been thinking.
“Just don’t, Josh,” she finished weakly. Then, she blushed. Hard. So hard that she went scarlet from the tips of her ears to the base of her neck. Lucy was so tomato red that he didn’t even need to look at her hands to know they’d turned bright red, too.
“Lucy...”
But whatever vulnerability he’d glimpsed was gone in an instant. “Don’t you dare ‘Lucy’ me,” she interrupted. Everything about her body tightened as if she were fighting off some urge. He had no idea whether she was going to punch him or what. “I am Dr. Lucinda Wilde now, and so help me, Josh Calhoun, if you roll up in here and in any way, shape or form compromise the care of my patients, I will personally make sure the rest of your life is a living hell.”
She spun on her heel and he knew she was done with him, but, damn it, he wasn’t willing to let it go. He reached out and grabbed her hand. “Lucy, it doesn’t have to be like this.”
She froze. Her gaze dropped down to where he had her by the hand. Her skin was warm and soft against his, softer than he’d expected it to be. He closed his fingers around hers and, without really thinking about it, pulled her closer to him.
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