Christmas On The Silver Horn Ranch. Stella Bagwell
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mattered. She was gorgeous. And he hoped she was single.
He tilted his head in an effort to get a glimpse of her left hand. From what he could see, there was no ring of any sort on her finger.
“Not at all. I just meant that most nurses wear those colored things that look like pajamas.”
“They’re called scrubs. And they’re comfortable and efficient. I just happen to wear a dress because...I guess it suits me.”
“Well, you look a damned sight nicer.”
She stepped in front of him and reached for the top button on his shirt. The beat of Bowie’s heart shifted into overdrive.
“Let’s get one thing straight, Bowie. I’m not here for your visual pleasure or your amusement. I’m here to help you get well. That’s all.”
“Should I close my eyes?” he asked with a grin. “Or would you like to put a blindfold on me?”
* * *
Ava would like to do more than that to this young lothario. She’d like to pick up her bag and give him a swift and final goodbye before she walked out of his room and away from this three-story ranch house. But she was a professional with a job to perform. She couldn’t allow any patient to get under her skin. No matter how sexy or charming.
Before she’d arrived on the sprawling Silver Horn Ranch this morning, she’d been aware that she would be treating the youngest of the Calhoun brothers. The only one of them who remained single. Other than the information she’d been given on his medical condition, all she knew were snippets of gossip she’d heard through the hospital grapevine. A few of the younger nurses had described Bowie Calhoun as “dreamy” and “hunky” and “a stud.” Ava had never been one to pay much heed to gossip. Most of it was exaggerated hearsay, anyway. But perhaps this was one time she should have listened more closely. At least then she would’ve been prepared for the sight of her patient.
Bowie Calhoun was six feet of honed muscle dressed in ragged blue jeans and a gray chambray shirt. Square jaw, thin chiseled lips and gold-green eyes shaded by a pair of heavy brows were all framed by exceptionally thick tawny-brown hair that reminded Ava of a shaggy lion. The wayward waves fell recklessly over one eye and down the back of his neck. He was one dangerous-looking male, and everything inside Ava was screaming at her to run until there was a safe distance between them. Like thirty or forty miles.
Steeling herself, she stepped closer and reached for the button in the middle of his shirt. The male scent of his skin and hair drifted to her nostrils and for one crazy moment she thought her hands were actually trembling. But she immediately drew in a deep breath and gathered her senses. She didn’t know what was happening to her, but she was determined to put a quick stop to the crazy reaction she was having to this man.
After working all the buttons free, she pushed the shirt off his shoulders and down his arms, all the while carefully keeping her eyes averted from his muscled chest and arms.
“Right now I want you to lie on your stomach and let me take a look at your back,” she said, trying to instill as much firmness in her voice as she could. “I assume your bandages were changed yesterday?”
He stretched out on the nearest side of the bed and turned his head so that it was facing in her direction. “They were changed. Right after my sponge bath. Are you going to give me one of those?”
The sly grin on his face caused her to groan silently. “No. You’ll have to get someone else to help you with that. But I will clean your burns and apply new bandages.”
“Aw, shucks. I thought I was going to be in for a treat this morning.”
A treat? She wanted to remind him that she’d just heard him say he was sick and tired of nurses. Why would he consider her ministrations a treat? Surely a young hunk like him didn’t find a woman nine years older than him attractive.
Wrong, Ava. Bowie is the type who’d flirt with a ninety-year-old grandmother if it would be to his advantage.
Shoving away the mocking voice in her head, she said, “Maybe I can find a lollipop in my tote. All kids deserve a treat after they receive medical attention.”
“Hmm. And she has a sense of humor, too. Where have you been all my life?”
During the thirteen years Ava had worked as a nurse, she’d dealt with plenty of flirtatious patients. Leering men with glib tongues came with the job. Mostly, she didn’t give their behavior a second thought. But something about Bowie Calhoun was different. Even though she was trying to ignore him, he was getting to her in a way she would’ve never expected.
“I live in Carson City,” she said as casually as she could. “What about you? Is this where you normally live? Or are you here because you need your family’s help while you recuperate?”
“My job on the hotshot crew is likely to take me anywhere across the West. Especially during the height of fire season. Otherwise, the Silver Horn is my home. My great-grandfather Calhoun first built the place more than a hundred years ago. Now it’s one of the biggest ranches in western Nevada. Is this your first visit to the ranch?”
There was no bragging in his voice, just pride, and Ava liked that about him. Especially when he had plenty to brag about. And suddenly she was very curious about this young man and his place in the wealthy Calhoun family. Mainly, why would he be working at a dangerous job with a modest salary rather than doing something here on the ranch?
She said, “I’ve been out here a few times before. Two of those visits were when Lilly and Rafe’s babies were christened. Each time the christening was followed by a celebration here at the house.”
Her answer appeared to surprise him.
“So you’re acquainted with my brother and sister-in-law?”
“I’ve only met Rafe a few times. But I’ve been friends with Lilly for several years. We worked together when she was still at Tahoe General.”
“I see. Did she pick you out for this job?”
“No. Chet Anderson picked me for the job.”
“Who’s he?”
“Director of nurses at Tahoe General. I’m told he’s friends with your father.”
“Oh. Well, I should’ve known. Dad is determined to see that I get the best of care. Are you the best, Ava Archer?”
Now that he was lying prone on the bed, she could see a large bandage on his left shoulder blade, two more protected areas on his left arm and another huge one on the right side of his back just below his rib cage. From her experience with treating burns, she knew that he’d experienced some serious pain.
“You’d have to ask my superiors that question,” she replied. “But don’t worry, I’ll do my best to make this as gentle as possible. Have you been taking your meds?”
“The antibiotics and the vitamins. Not the ones for pain. I prefer to have all my senses about me.”
“There’s no need for you to try to be a hero.” She positioned his arm so that the back was exposed, then reached for the scissors. As she began to cut away the bandages, she tried not to notice the massive width of his shoulders or the bulging muscles in his arms. No doubt the man was as strong as a bull.
What does that have to do with you changing a patient’s bandages, Ava? You’re supposed to be focused on Bowie’s injuries. Not his masculine charms.
The return of the annoying voice in her head caused Ava to press her lips to a thin line. She didn’t need to be reminded that her thoughts were straying. She’d lost the reins on most of them the first moment she’d laid eyes on him.
Determined to get back to the task at hand, Ava carefully peeled back the special bandage protecting the burn. The mottled flesh was still a long way from regrowing a normal layer of skin. But mercifully there were no signs of infection.