The Rancher's Secret Child. Brenda Minton
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in a half-hearted wave.
“The roads are a mess,” she informed him with a hint of humor in her voice.
“Yeah, I’ve heard.” He leaned against the side of the car. “How are they, Doc?”
“Oh, not too bad all things considered. I think Miss Hart has a dislocated shoulder. Actually, she’s a nurse and that’s her diagnosis. I would concur. Mr. Oliver has a good bump on his head, but I think he’s okay. I’ll take them back to my office. We’ll get that shoulder back in place and I’ll turn them over to you.”
Turn them over to him? He started to object. He was the last person they should be relying on. But Oliver looked happy with the news. And Lissa Hart looked...relieved?
* * *
Lissa kept her left arm around Oliver. Her right arm she kept at her side. Every bump jostled it and sent a shooting pain to her shoulder. She cringed and Oliver snuggled closer.
“It’s okay,” she encouraged, trying to smile.
“Marcus is going to be with us.” Oliver said it with satisfaction, as if Marcus Palermo solved all of their problems.
The way she looked at it, Marcus was just another problem. He was too handsome. He was too much of a loner. He didn’t need or want anyone in his life. And the little boy sitting next to her wanted and needed a father. He would have to be told the truth, and when that happened, she knew he would want to stay with Marcus.
“I know he is going to be there.” She bit down on her lip as they hit a few potholes. The first responder had warned her that a ride with Doc Parker could be worse than the accident. She now understood the warning.
The car stopped at what appeared to be an abandoned convenience store. “What is this?”
Doc had already gotten out and was opening the door to help her. “My office.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t worry, it’s better than it looks. I know, an RN like yourself, you’re used to city clinics and hospitals. This serves us just fine.”
“I’m sure it does.” She eased herself out of the car and waited for Oliver. He had been so brave, but he now had big tears in his eyes. One broke loose and slid down his cheek. He swiped it away and managed a fierce look.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” She leaned close to the little boy.
He nodded and sniffed away the tears. “I’m good. I’m going to be a bull rider someday. Like Marcus. So I have to be tough.”
She wanted to sigh at that revelation. Oliver needed male role models. That was all. He was attaching himself to Marcus not because of the connection but because he represented everything a kid like Oliver wanted. Marcus was tough. He had lived an exciting life. He was a world champion. Of course Oliver wanted to be like him.
Doc cleared his throat as he looked from her to the little boy. “We’d best get you inside and put that shoulder back in the socket. Marcus will be here any minute. He just had a hard time keeping up with me.” The last was said with a grin and, she thought, a bit of misplaced pride.
He led them through a dismally decorated waiting room to a small exam room. Lissa gave Oliver what she hoped to be a reassuring look.
“Oliver, do you want to sit out in the waiting room? I bet Dr. Parker has a book you can look at.”
Doc rubbed a hand through thinning gray hair. “Books. Yes, I should have books. I keep meaning to get more. I have young ones that come in and books are something they love to take home with them. I can’t deny a child a book. And it’s Doc, not Dr. Parker.”
He walked away mumbling about books and toys and a shopping list. Oliver followed him out of the exam room, leaving Lissa alone. She closed her eyes and said a quick prayer. For her shoulder. For the doctor. And for the situation with Marcus and Oliver.
Her peace was short-lived. She heard male voices from the waiting room. Doc’s more gentle voice resonated through the door. She couldn’t make out his words. There were footsteps in the hall, a door closed, more talking. She heard Oliver telling them about how hard he hit his head and that he was sure he must have a headache. She smiled at his matter-of-fact assessment of his condition. He was fine, she assured herself. He wouldn’t be talking and laughing if he wasn’t okay.
And then the door opened and Marcus Palermo charged through, looking ragged and worn. Without greeting her, he took off his hat and hung it on a hook. He brushed a hand through curly, dark hair and then he seemed to remember her presence.
“What happened?”
“I’m fine, thank you. So is Oliver.” She didn’t have the patience for overbearing, take-charge men.
“I’m sorry—” he shook his head “—I shouldn’t have let you leave in this weather.”
“You didn’t have a choice. I’m an adult and I made the decision.” She grimaced as a hot flash of pain hit her shoulder, payment for what should have been a carefree shrug.
“It wasn’t safe,” he said as he took a seat on the rolling stool next to the exam table.
“I’m twenty-eight. I know how to drive in the rain. Could you please go sit with Oliver? He’s alone. I don’t want him to be alone.” She also didn’t want to be told what she could or couldn’t do. Her short relationship with Troy Larson had taught her that there was a fine line between a caring man who wanted to spend time with a woman and a controlling jerk who didn’t trust her out of his sight.
“Oliver isn’t alone. He’s with Doc and my brother, Alex.” He pinned her with his dark gaze. “Doc said your shoulder is dislocated.”
“Yes. It’s happened before and it isn’t too bad this time. I’m more worried about Oliver. If you could sit with him. Make sure he isn’t nauseated. Watch that his speech doesn’t slur.”
The door opened and Doc stepped inside the cramped room with the green carpet and mustard-yellow walls. He glanced at his watch and then at her.
“Well, young lady, let’s get this shoulder taken care of so we don’t miss lunch. Essie has the best enchiladas on Tuesdays.”
She nodded toward the door. “Cowboy, you should go. This isn’t going to be pleasant.”
Doc cackled at her warning. “You think I haven’t reset a bone or two for these boys? Marcus could probably set this shoulder with his eyes closed. He only lets me do it because he’s polite. Shy, quiet type, you know.”
She closed her eyes and nodded. “Yes, he is quiet.”
“Well, I can’t fix everything,” Doc said softly. She wondered what he meant by that. “Now, let me see.”
He felt her shoulder and then gently rotated her arm. She took a deep breath, knowing what would come next. Still, she wasn’t prepared. Not for the bolt of lightning-deep pain or the arm that encircled her, holding her steady. Marcus smelled of rain, soap and aftershave, the kind of spicy scent that made a girl think of mountains and lakes. For a brief moment it took her mind off the pain in her shoulder. He was strong. Definitely the kind of guy a girl could lean on. But just for a moment.
Doc handed her a couple of pills and a glass of water. “I’m sorry about that. No way to do it without causing a lot of hurt. I’m going to put some ice on your shoulder and we’ll put that arm in a sling. I guess you’ll know when it’s time to start exercising it a bit. And I guess I don’t have to tell you not to drive. From the looks of your car, it won’t be going anywhere for a while.”
She briefly closed her eyes. “I need to call my insurance. I can get a rental.”
“That won’t be possible.” Marcus gave her a sympathetic look. Maybe a grimace. She wasn’t sure. “Not only is your car totaled but the bridge is going to be under water.”
“I’m