A Soldier's Return. RaeAnne Thayne

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A Soldier's Return - RaeAnne Thayne


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divorced him, she wanted to add. Don’t forget that part.

      “I’m sorry. You know me, but I’m afraid I don’t remember your name.”

      He shrugged. “No reason you should. I was a few years older and I’ve been gone a long time.”

      She looked closer. There was something about the shape of his mouth. She had seen it recently on someone else...

      “Eli?”

      “That’s right. Hi, Melissa.”

      She should have known! All the clues came together. The dog, whom she now recognized as Max, the smart little dog who belonged to Eli’s father. The fact that he said he was a doctor. Those startling, searching blue eyes that now seemed unforgettable.

      How embarrassing!

      In her defense, the last time she had seen Eli Sanderson, he had been eighteen and she had been fifteen. He had graduated from high school and was about to take off across the country to college. The Eli she remembered had been studious and serious. He had kept mostly to himself, more interested in leading the academic decathlon than coming to any sporting events or social functions.

      She had been the opposite, always down for a party, as long as it distracted her from the sadness at home in those first years after her father died of brain cancer.

      The Eli she remembered had been long and lanky, skinny even. This man, on the other hand, was anything but nerdy. He was buff, gorgeous, with lean, masculine features and the kind of shoulders that made a woman want to grab hold and not let go.

      Wow. The military had really filled him out.

      “I understand you work with my dad,” he said.

      She worked for his father. Melissa was a nurse at Dr. Wendell Sanderson’s family medicine clinic. Now she realized why that mouth looked so familiar. She should have picked up on it immediately. His dad’s mouth was shaped the same, but somehow that full bottom lip looked very different on Dr. Sanderson Jr.

      Her wrist still ached fiercely. “How’s your dad?” she asked, trying to divert her attention from it. “I stopped by to see him yesterday after his surgery and was going to call the hospital to check on him today as soon as I finished my run.”

      “He’s good. I was trying to be here before he went under the knife, but my plane was delayed until last night. I did speak to the orthopedic surgeon, who is happy with the outcome so far. Both knee replacements seem to have gone well.”

      “Oh, good. He won’t tolerate being down for long. I guess that’s why it made sense for him to do both at the same time.”

      “You know him well.”

      After several months of working for the kindly family medicine doctor, she had gained a solid insight into his personality. Wendell was sweet, patient, genuinely concerned about his patients. He was the best boss she’d ever had.

      “Let’s take a look at this wrist,” Eli said now. Unlike his father, Wendell’s son could never be described as kindly or avuncular.

      “I’m sure it’s fine.”

      “Again, I’m a doctor. Why don’t you let me be the judge of how fine it might be? I saw that nasty tumble and could hear the impact of your fall all the way across the sand. You might have broken something, in which case you’re going to want to have it looked at sooner rather than later.”

      She was strangely reluctant to hand over her wrist—or anything else—to the man and fought the urge to hide her hand behind her back, as if she were caught with a fistful of Oreos in front of an empty cookie jar.

      “I can have the radiologist at the clinic x-ray it when I go in to work in an hour.”

      “Or you can let me take a look at it right now.”

      She frowned at the implacable set of his jaw. He held his hand out and she sighed. “Ugh. You’re as stubborn as your father.”

      “Thank you. Anytime someone compares me to my father, I take it as a compliment.”

      He gave his outstretched hand a pointed look, and she frowned again and, cornered, held out her wrist. The movement made her hurt all over again, and she flushed at the unwilling tears she could feel gather.

      His skin was much warmer than she might have expected on a lovely but still cool April morning. Seductively warm. His hands were long-fingered, masculine, much longer than her own, and he wore a sleek Tag Heuer watch.

      Her stomach felt hollow, her nerves tight, but she wasn’t sure if that was in reaction to the injury or from the unexpected pleasure of skin against skin. He was a doctor taking a look at an injury, she reminded herself, not a sexy guy wanting to hold her hand.

      Melissa aimed a glare at Fiona, who had started the whole thing. The dog had planted her haunches in the sand, tail wagging, and seemed to be watching the whole episode with an expression that appeared strangely like amusement.

      “It doesn’t feel like anything is broken. You can move it, right?”

      He held her hand while she wiggled her fingers, then rotated her wrist. It hurt like the devil, but she didn’t feel any structural impingement in movement.

      “Yes. I told you it wasn’t broken. It’s already feeling better.”

      “You can’t be completely sure without an X-ray, but I’m all right waiting forty-eight hours or so to check it. I suspect a sprain, but it might be easier to tell in a few days. Do you have a way to splint it? If you don’t, I’m sure my dad has something at the office.”

      “I’ve got a wrist brace I’ve worn before when I had carpal tunnel problems.”

      “You’ll want to put that on and have it checked again in a few days. Meanwhile, ice and elevation are your best friends. At least ten minutes every two hours.”

      As if she had time for that. “I’ll do my best. Thanks.”

      A sudden thought occurred to her, one she was almost afraid to entertain. “How long will you be in town?”

      When he was making arrangements to be gone for his surgery, Wendell had hoped Eli might be able to cover for him at the clinic. The last she had heard, though, Eli’s hadn’t been able to get leave from his military assignment so his father had arranged a substitute doctor through a service in Portland.

      Given that Eli was here, she had a feeling all that was about to change—which meant Eli might be her boss for the foreseeable future.

      “I’m not sure how much time I can get,” he answered now. “That depends on a few things still in play. I’m hoping for a month but I’ll be here for the next two to three weeks, at least.”

      “I see.”

      She did see, entirely too clearly. This would obviously not be the last she would see of Eli Sanderson.

      “I need to go. Thanks for your help,” she said quickly.

      “I didn’t do anything except take a look at your injury. At least promise me you’ll raise it up and put some ice on it.”

      Considering she was scheduled to work at his father’s clinic starting in just over an hour and still needed to shower, she wouldn’t have time for much self-pampering. “I’ll do my best. Thanks.”

      “How far do you have to go? I can at least help you walk your dog home.”

      “Fiona isn’t my dog. She belongs to my neighbor. We were just sort of exercising each other. And for the record, she’s usually very well behaved. I don’t quite know what happened earlier, but we’ll be fine to make it home on our own. I don’t want to disturb your run more than I already have.”

      “Are you sure?”

      “We don’t have far to go. I live at Brambleberry House.”

      His


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