Mending the Doctor's Heart. Tina Radcliffe

and parked next to her father’s Land Rover and their housekeeper’s ancient wagon. She was anxious to get out of a dress and into boots and jeans. There was plenty of time for a long ride, and she intended to take full advantage. She missed the time away from the ranch and her horse, and wasn’t ashamed to admit where her roots were. Elliott Ranch was home, and definitely her favorite place on the planet.

      She approached the front porch and had barely settled her foot on the bottom step before Hollis Elliott’s first directive flew.

      “Stop by the dealership in Buena Vista. There’s a new Land Rover with your name on it.”

      Taking a deep breath, she continued up the stairs. Do not react. Nearly twenty-four months had passed, and she liked to believe she’d learned something.

      “I can’t afford a new car. Besides, I love my old Jeep. It gets great gas mileage.”

      “That piece of tin is falling apart.”

      “No, it isn’t. But that’s beside the point. I’ll decide when I need a new car.”

      When her father opened his mouth again, Sara reached over and kissed his leathery cheek, halting further discussion.

      “Have you eaten?” she asked.

      “Malla is starving me.”

      From the screen door, Malla Esperanza cocked her dark head to one side and clucked her tongue. “You know what they say about liars.”

      “Well? You call that food? A sliver of turkey and a few vegetables?”

      “Your dietician calls it heart-healthy,” Malla returned.

      “I call it—”

      “Excuse me.” Sara interrupted her father’s tirade.

      “Can I fix you something to eat, Sara?” Malla asked, rolling her r’s like a melody as she spoke.

      Sara had nothing but affection for the woman who had been the sole female role model in her life since her mother died. If only she had Malla’s patience and even temperament.

      “No, but thank you, Malla,” she said with a smile. “I ate in town. I haven’t had dinner at The Prospector in years. It was delicious.”

      “Enough food talk,” her father interrupted. “Cut to the chase. How did the meeting go?”

      “It went well, Dad.”

      “Clinic Director. If you have to be a doctor, then director is the way to go.” His lips moved into a wistful smile. “Your mother would be proud.”

      “I’m auditioning for the position,” Sara said. “I’ll be working with another physician for eight weeks.”

      “What? That’s a load of cow paddies.” He began to stand. “Where’s my phone?”

      Sara touched his shoulder. “No, Dad. Stop.”

      Hollis sat down, grumbling. “I didn’t pay for that clinic so someone else could run things.”

      She cocked her head. “Why did you pay for the clinic?”

      “Because Henry asked me to.”

      “That’s the only reason?”

      “What are you insinuating, young lady?” His eyes narrowed in challenge.

      “Nothing, but remember, your money doesn’t buy you the right to manipulate other people.”

      Hollis released a loud snort. “We’ll see about that.”

      Looking past her father, Sara’s glance met Malla’s. The older woman’s eyes were wide with concern. She placed a hand on her heart in gesture and shook her head in warning, before turning away from the screen door.

      Taking a deep breath, Sara relaxed and lowered her voice. “I won’t stay if you interfere.”

      His steely black eyes met hers, but she refused to allow her gaze to waiver.

      “And this time, if I leave I won’t come back.”

      It was Hollis who finally looked away and shook his head.

      Sara dug in her purse and tossed a white package with her father’s blood thinner and diuretic on the small table next to him. “I picked up your scripts.”

      “Save your money,” he grunted. I’m not taking all those pills.”

      “At least take the anti-cranky capsules.”

      He paused and blinked, then released a gruff laugh. “Very funny.”

      Sara placed a gentle hand upon his. “I love you, Dad, but sometimes you have to let things happen in God’s timing instead of yours.”

      “The Lord and I have an arrangement. He runs His business and I run mine.”

      She couldn’t contain a burst of laughter. “Not quite how it works, but nice try.”

      “So who is this other doctor you’re up against?”

      “What does it matter?” she asked.

      “Invite him to the house.”

      Oh, that wasn’t going to happen. Sara cleared her throat but was silent.

      “Is that a no?” Hollis asked.

      “Malla said you hired some new men to help around the ranch while you’re recuperating.”

      “Short term. I’ll be back on my feet real quick.” He shook his head. “That reminds me, you have time to attend the cattlemen’s meeting next week?”

      “Dad, I work at the clinic. I can’t help you with the ranch, too.”

      “Just thought I’d ask. It is your heritage.”

      She was silent. There was no point upsetting him. Medicine was her heritage, only he refused to acknowledge that.

      “How’s Mitch working out?” she countered, looking toward the corral.

      “Mitch is doing just fine. No plans to court my daughter, like the last ranch manager, if that’s what you mean.”

      She tensed and gripped her briefcase handle tightly. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

      “Sara, you’re going to have to talk about it eventually.”

      It? It would be the debacle that was her engagement, and he was right. She wasn’t going there any time soon.

      “You still blame me for that idiot fiancé of yours, don’t you?” As usual, the manipulative rancher continued to prod the conversation exactly where he wanted it to go.

      She sucked in a breath, determined to keep her emotions reined in. “Dad, you promised him a partnership in the ranch if we married.”

      “I was just encouraging things along. Nothing wrong with that.”

      “Except that my fiancé was in love with your offer, and not with me.”

      “You don’t know that,” her father spouted.

      “But I do,” she whispered, closing her eyes against the memory and the humiliation.

      Hollis opened his mouth to speak and then stopped. For once he was without a sharp retort.

      Sara turned and shot a forced glance toward the sky. “I’m going to change my clothes. I want to get a ride in with Rocky before the sun begins to set.”

      She strode into the house, stopping in the cool foyer to take several deep breaths. The tall mirror on the wall caught her reflection and Sara paused, assessing herself. Yes, she had inherited her mother’s features, but was she really her mother’s daughter? Her fingers moved to gently touch the trailing scar that ran along her hairline.

      Amanda Elliott was an amazing doctor,