The Doctor's Calling. Stella Bagwell

a light switch. As soon as it flickered on, she practically leaped over the threshold and into a small entryway.

      At the end of it, she stepped into a nice-size living room with a picture window that over looked the meadow and a native-rock fireplace built into one corner.

      “Oh, my, a fireplace! And the room is full of furniture,” she stated the obvious. “Real leather furniture! Do you think it’s supposed to be here?”

      Russ came to stand next to her and when she glanced up at his face, she was surprised to see that he was looking at her instead of the room. The look in his eyes was softer than she’d ever seen, sort of indulgent and kind, and the whole idea shook her even more than the excitement of seeing the house where she’d soon be living.

      “Quint told me that this one was already furnished. But he says if there’s something you want to change or get rid of, just let him know.”

      Laurel slowly shook her head in disbelief. “I never expected anything like this. I don’t know what to think or say.”

      “Why don’t we look at the rest of the rooms and see if you like them,” he suggested, “before you make any decisions about the furniture.”

      “All right.”

      She turned to leave the room and was surprised when he took hold of her elbow. Sometimes during their work, they rubbed shoulders or their hands would connect. Touching him was not anything new. But having him deliberately take her arm was something totally out of the ordinary.

      Don’t let yourself make a big issue of it, Laurel. Tonight is different. You’re both experiencing something new. He’s simply being a polite escort. That’s all.

      The little voice inside Laurel’s head should have helped her to focus on the house instead of him, but as soon as they entered the master bedroom, her eyes went straight to the queen-size mattress, and all she could think about was him and how it might be to lie next to him, to have him touch her, love her.

      Oh, God, don’t let her think about that now, she prayed. She didn’t want him to see the longing in her eyes or to ever guess that she had any sort of feelings for him.

      “I like this,” she said of the varnished knotty-pine bed and accompanying chest and dresser. Leaving his side, she walked over and ran a hand over the Native American blanket covering the mattress. “Everything looks so Western. I’m actually going to feel like I’m living on a ranch.”

      “You will be living on a ranch.”

      She dared to look at him and was surprised to feel her breathing had quickened, along with her heartbeat. What was this place doing to her? she wondered. She’d spent hours and hours alone with this man for the past five years. This was nothing new. Just because the two of them were together in a secluded house didn’t change the fact that they were, at the most, friends.

      Glancing away from him, she walked over to an eight-drawer chest. Atop it stood a small lamp with different ranch brands printed on the beige-fabric shade. She absently touched the edge of it, as she asked, “I wonder who used to live in this place?”

      “I think it was the cook’s elderly mother. She passed away a few months ago.”

      “You must mean Reena’s mother, Tiwa,” Laurel said. “I used to see the old woman when I visited the ranch. She’d be in the kitchen with her daughter. But after she began to age, I didn’t see her much. I believe she was close to a hundred when she died. I wonder why the Cantrells provided her with such nice housing.”

      He shrugged. “I couldn’t say. But I’m betting the old woman probably worked for them in her younger days.”

      “Hmm. I’ll have to ask Alexa the next time I speak with her.” She moved away from the chest and started toward the door. “Let’s look at the rest of the place.”

      He followed her out of the bedroom and across a short hallway to a second bedroom. It was smaller, but still a good size. The bathroom was jammed between the two bedrooms, and directly behind the living room was the kitchen.

      As soon as they walked into the kitchen, Laurel spotted a note on the table and she quickly scooped it up and began to read out loud: “‘Laurel, I’ve cleaned up most of the dust and laundered the bedding. If there’s anything else you need or want, just let us know at the big house. Welcome! Sassy.’”

      “Do you know Sassy?” Russ asked.

      “Yes. She’s the housekeeper at the big house. I’ll have to thank her for all the cleaning.” She lowered the note, then looked at him and shook her head with amazement. “Russ, when you said I would be getting housing with the job, I thought at best it would be manufactured. But this—it’s like a little mansion to me!”

      He walked over to where she stood beside the table, and the faint grin on his lips made her groan inside. He didn’t have a clue that he was shamefully sexy. Nor did he have a clue that she would love to wrap her body around his, to feel his whiskered cheek rub against her skin, his lips tasting hers.

      “Then you’re happy about this?” he asked.

      She gave her head a mental shake, while hoping her cheeks weren’t as pink as they felt. “If you’re talking about the house and furniture, then yes, I’m very, very happy. If you’re talking about the job, well, I can’t answer that until we start working.”

      A little scowl drew his brows together. “What if you don’t like it?”

      She shrugged as she met his gaze. “What if you don’t like it?” she retorted.

      One corner of his mouth crooked upward. “Touché.”

      Swallowing at the ball of nerves in her throat, she moved around him and walked over to the cabinets. As she pretended to inspect the stainless-steel sink, she told herself that she had to get a grip. Nothing had really changed between them. Something about this place only made it feel that way.

      She heard his footsteps approaching from behind and then suddenly she felt his hand rest on her shoulder. For a moment she practically stopped breathing and her eyes instinctively closed as she tried to brace herself.

      “Laurel, I think I should apologize.”

      His words stunned her completely and she forgot that he was standing so close until she whirled around to face him. And suddenly she realized her breasts were very nearly brushing his chest, and his face was only inches from hers.

      “Apologize?” she asked quietly. “For what?”

      He grimaced. “I don’t know—just seeing you here tonight—it’s made me realize that I was asking far more of you than I had a right to.”

      “You let me make my own decision,” she said in a voice that sounded breathy, even to her ears. “No one twisted my arm to be here.”

      “No. But you liked the clinic and you’ve always lived in town. I’m asking you to make some huge changes. And you said you didn’t like change.”

      He remembered her saying that? Maybe she’d better keep a closer watch on what she was saying to this man.

      “I did say that,” she agreed. “But sometimes a person’s life needs to be shaken a little, just to keep things interesting. Besides, you needn’t worry about me. You have far more things of your own to deal with.”

      He let out a heavy breath, then lifted his cowboy hat and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “You’re really too good for me.”

      In an effort to lighten the moment, she quietly laughed. “I know that.”

      His brown eyes locked with hers as his body moved ever so much closer to hers. “You’re laughing,” he pointed out in a low voice. “And it’s not a blue moon.”

      “No,” she said inanely, while wondering wildly what he was doing and why. He’d never looked at her this way. Never touched her this way. “Sometimes it just