One Tall, Dusty Cowboy. Stella Bagwell
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running her down and stopping her on the road.
She told herself she was glad that she’d not had to encounter the man, especially after that kiss last night. But if she was being honest with herself, she felt a little deflated that, at the very least, he’d not been around to say hello.
And why should he want to waste his time just to say hello to you, Lilly? You were rough on him last night. Unreasonably so. The man isn’t Grant Winters. You shouldn’t be treating him like the man who broke your heart.
The voice in her head haunted her all the way back to Carson City and by the time she’d put in four hours of work in the emergency room she was still thinking about Rafe and the night before.
When things finally slowed enough for her to take her first break, she went to the snack room and pulled out her cell phone. She didn’t have Rafe’s personal number, but she had Bart’s. The elder Calhoun would no doubt pass his grandson’s number on to her. Even though Rafe had irked her with his trite advances, she should’ve reacted with more ladylike, respectable manners.
Bart answered after the second ring and after she quickly identified herself, he said, “Lilly, you don’t have to check up on me. I’m exercising my hand right this minute.”
“I’m not checking up, Bart. I trust you completely. I’m calling to ask a favor. Could you possibly give me Rafe’s cell-phone number?”
Even though the man couldn’t see her, she could feel a blush wash over her face. Silly, silly Lilly, she scolded herself.
“Sure can. Just give me a minute to find the little book where I keep all my names and numbers.”
Several moments passed while she could hear papers being shuffled and a drawer being opened and closed. Finally, he came back to the phone. “Here it is, Lilly. But before I give it to you, can I ask why you want my grandson’s number? You’re not planning to discuss me behind my back, are you?”
Lilly laughed at that idea. “No, Bart. I promise that whatever I need to say to you, I’ll say it right to your face.”
“Oh. Well, I wasn’t aware that you were acquainted with Rafe.”
“We’ve—uh—spent a little time together.”
He grunted with disapproval. “Aw, Lilly. That boy isn’t for you. He’s naughty. He’s got too much of me in him. Understand?”
The fact that Bart cared enough about her to give her the simple warning was enough to make her smile. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing serious. I just need to give him a message, that’s all.”
“Okay. I won’t preach at you anymore.”
He gave her the number and after scratching it down on a small square of paper, Lilly thanked him, then quickly ended the call.
“Hey, got anything in here to eat?”
Lilly stuffed the piece of paper with the number into the pocket on her white uniform just as Marcella, a fellow E.R. nurse, walked into the small snack room.
“I’ve not even had time to get coffee, much less something to eat,” Lilly told her. “I put a sandwich in the fridge if you want half of it.”
The tall, auburn-haired woman shook her head as she walked over to the coffee machine and filled a foam cup. “I was just kidding. I splurged this morning and stopped at the bakery. I’ll have to starve myself for the rest of the day just to make up for the apple fritter I devoured.”
Marcella was in her early thirties, divorced and the mother of a five-year-old son. She was an excellent nurse and one of the few good friends that Lilly could always count on.
“Don’t be starving yourself,” Lilly scolded her. “There’s enough sick people around here without us having to scrape you off the floor. Besides, you always look great.”
“Yeah. Yeah,” Marcella teased. “You must want me to work a shift for you.”
“No. Just being honest.” She rose from the table to pour herself a cup of coffee. “But it would be nice to have a whole week off. I can’t remember the last time I got six hours of sleep.”
Frowning thoughtfully, Marcella said, “I thought you were off last night.”
Lilly stared into her coffee cup. “I was. But I went on a date.”
Marcella gasped. “A date! My Lord, knock a board off the house!”
Blowing out an exasperated breath, Lilly looked up to see Marcella’s mouth gaping open. “Just hush. You’re making me sound like a freak or something.”
Marcella jerked one of the metal chairs from beneath the table and sank onto the edge. “Tell me. Who? Why? Where?”
Lilly sipped her coffee more as a stalling tactic than a desire for more of the half-burned brew. “Rafe Calhoun took me to the Sierra Chateau for dinner. That’s all.”
If Marcella had looked surprised a moment ago, she looked completely stunned now. “That’s all! How did this happen?”
With a negligible shrug, Lilly said, “We met on the ranch while I was there for Bart’s therapy session. He asked me for a date and I accepted. It was a spur-of-the-moment sort of thing. Nothing is going to come of it. I can assure you of that.”
“Really? What makes you so certain nothing will come of it?”
Grimacing, she tossed the remainder of her coffee in a trash bin. “Because I’ve already made it clear to him that one date was all I would agree to. Anyway, he’s not into serious, Marcella. Besides, he’s a Calhoun. Even if he was looking for a wife, he wouldn’t search among simple, hardworking women like me.”
“Hmm. Well, from what I’ve heard, he’s the playboy of the Calhoun boys. I saw him here at the hospital the night they brought the old man in with a stroke. He’s a long, lean hunk of man. So are his brothers.”
A sigh unwittingly escaped Lilly. She had to agree that Rafe was one attractive, sexy male. But there was much more to him than his looks and his wealth. Last night she was just beginning to see a different side of him and then he’d had to go and ruin it all with that kiss.
And just why had that kiss ruined it, Lilly? Because you enjoyed it? Because for the first time in years you felt something flicker inside you and you were terrified?
“I honestly don’t know anything about those rumors concerning Rafe and women,” Lilly said. “But after spending an evening with him I have a feeling most of the rumors are probably true. And you know how I feel about guys like that.”
Marcella shot her a tired look. “You mean guys like Grant, don’t you?”
Pushing away from the cabinet she’d been leaning against, Lilly said, “I don’t want to discuss that bastard now or ever.”
Shaking her head, Marcella said, “Okay. But don’t punish the rest of the male population because of one rat-fink doctor. Rafe Calhoun might be the perfect man for you—if you’d give him a chance.”
Lilly’s short laugh was caustic. “Sure. About like you and I are going to spend the next two hours sitting around twiddling our thumbs. It ain’t gonna happen.”
She’d hardly gotten the words out of her mouth when the intercom over their heads sounded off, ending the women’s short break.
“All nurses in examining room two. All nurses needed in emergency room two.”
Exchanging pointed glances, the two women hurried away to answer the call.
* * *
Two days later, just before dark, Rafe had showered and changed into clean clothes, when he checked the cell phone he’d left charging on the dresser top.
After spending the past couple of days working out on the range, the phone’s battery had died a quick death and without electricity