Montana Daddy. Charlotte Maclay
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you don’t need any protection from my brother?”
“Not in this lifetime,” she muttered, stalking toward the door.
Making a fist, Rory make a threatening gesture toward his brother. “Follow us at your own risk, White Eyes.”
Eric only laughed, and Rory hustled to catch up with Kristi.
The truck had the advantage of getting them out of the wind, but it was still icy cold. The seats crackled with it, and their breath fogged the inside of the windshield. The wipers struggled to clear the snow away, leaving frozen half circles on the glass.
“So do you work at a hospital in Spokane?” he asked as Kristi let the engine warm up.
“Actually, it’s a low-income clinic. We serve mostly itinerant workers. I see the patients first and handle routine problems like colds and flu or stitching up a cut. More serious injuries I refer to the doctor.”
“So you’re practically a doctor.”
She glanced at him, then shifted into gear. The headlights bounced off the curtain of falling snow as she eased forward. “The American Medical Association doesn’t see it that way.”
Behind them Rory noticed the headlights of Eric’s four-wheel-drive patrol cruiser snap on. There were some serious disadvantages to having brothers who tended to stick their noses into a man’s business. Not that Rory wouldn’t do the same, given a chance.
Leaving the parking lot, the rear end of Kristi’s truck slid sideways before the tires caught hold. She handled the skid with skill and followed the tracks left by Joe Moore’s vehicle when he’d preceded them out of the lot.
“How long before the plow comes by?” she asked.
“They concentrate on the Interstate. In a storm like this, it might be days before we see a county plow. Some of the locals usually get out their Jeeps with a scoop on the front to keep things moving here in town. Nobody bothers with the ranch roads.” Which is why his brother Walker hadn’t come into town for the emergency meeting. Too much chance of getting stuck.
“I’m glad I got Grandma home before all this mess started,” Kristi said.
So was Rory. He’d hate to think of Kristi out on the highway with this much snow falling. It would be too easy to go off the road or get stranded with no one to help her.
“Why don’t you pull in at your grandmother’s place? It’d be easier and I can walk across the street.”
“Your veterinary clinic is that close?”
“Yep. Only a couple of patients have gotten the two clinics mixed up though. I take their temperature, give ’em a rabies shot and send them home. Haven’t had any complaints.”
She sputtered a laugh. “That’s probably because none of them survived.”
Deep snow made the turn into the medical clinic drive a challenge, but Kristi made it just fine, parking near the front door. Rory admired her skill even as he wanted to linger in her company.
They both got out, and Kristi started up the steps to the porch.
“I’ll come in with you. Just to make sure the doc’s okay.” And maybe he’d talk Kristi into making a pot of hot chocolate. It was a perfect night for cuddling in front of a fire, listening to a little music. Making out.
“I haven’t been gone long. I’m sure she’s fine.”
Kristi opened the door, and Justine’s voice carried out to the porch.
“How long has he been unconscious?”
A woman responded over the sputter of static on the emergency radio set up in the clinic. Justine stood beside the radio, a crutch under one arm and the microphone in her hand.
As Rory listened to the conversation, he realized Doc Justine had a patient in trouble—Everett Durfee, who lived with his wife, Jane, in a remote cabin miles from town.
Rory suspected this was likely to be a long night for everyone when headlights flashed across the front windows of the clinic. He knew Eric had heard the tail end of the same emergency transmission on his car radio, and he’d come to the doc’s place to deal with the crisis.
When illness struck in this weather, isolation was more than a lifestyle choice. It became a life-and-death issue. And could put more than one person at risk.
Cuddling with Kristi and a pot of hot chocolate no longer seemed a possibility.
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