The Surgeon's Christmas Baby. Marin Thomas

said his father thinks Dad was stupid to buy bison instead of cattle.”

      Hannah was well aware that their neighbors believed raising bison for specialty meat markets was a waste of good land. “I don’t care what Mr. Henderson thinks.”

      “School’s dumb. I wanna drop out.”

      It took a moment for Hannah’s mind to switch gears. “What do you mean you want to quit school?” At least from six-thirty in the morning until three-thirty in the afternoon, Monday through Friday she knew where her brother was.

      “I’m not learning anything.”

      “You’re staying in school, Luke.”

      “Just ’cause you’re my legal guardian doesn’t mean I have to listen to you.”

      Hannah laughed. “Oh, yes, it does. You’re not dropping out. End of discussion.”

      “You can’t stop me.” Luke was three inches taller and fifty pounds heavier than Hannah. If he didn’t want to go to school, there wouldn’t be much she could do to make him go.

      She opened her mouth to challenge him, then decided no good could come from arguing her point when he was hungover. Hannah had taken care of others most of her life and at times like this she dreamed of only being responsible for herself.

      “I bet Connor’s mother would let me live with them.”

      Not on your life. “Mrs. Henderson doesn’t even want you hanging out with Connor anymore.”

      “Liar.”

      “You can ask her yourself.”

      “Why would she say that?”

      “Maybe because she caught you two drinking and she thinks you’re a bad influence on her son.”

      Luke laughed, then moaned and pressed his hands to his head. “Connor drank before we started doing stuff together.”

      “Did Connor talk you into drinking?”

      “No. Ben Nichols and I got slammed last year.”

      “Is Ben the one who gave you the pot?”

      “Yeah.”

      She’d found Luke smoking in the hayloft over Christmas break and had flipped out. He’d been so stoned he was lucky he hadn’t started a fire in the barn.

      “Maybe you should smoke pot, then guys might like you better.” Luke could be downright ugly toward her when he wanted to be. “I bet if you weren’t such a nag, Seth wouldn’t have dumped you.”

      Hannah gaped at her brother in the rearview mirror. “For your information, I broke up with him.”

      Seth Markham had caught Hannah at a weak moment when he’d proposed to her following her father’s funeral. She’d been in a state of panic after learning about the financial mess the ranch was in. When Seth had promised he and his father would pay off the Blue Bison’s debts, she’d decided that marrying him was the only sensible thing to do if she didn’t want to lose her and Luke’s inheritance.

      Seth had pressed her to wed right away but Hannah had needed time to grieve. Three months passed, and when she still hadn’t set a date, Seth became angry and they’d argued. He’d almost convinced her to go to the courthouse that day before he’d let it slip that he and his father had planned to sell her bison and expand their cattle herd. Hannah had promptly returned his ring.

      “Watch it!”

      Startled out of her trance, Hannah realized the truck had drifted onto the shoulder and was headed straight toward a hitchhiker. She slammed on the brakes, then swerved back into her lane—right into the path of a shiny metal object lying on the asphalt. The rear tire blew and the truck fishtailed off the road and down an embankment, where it stopped inches from a barbed wire fence.

      “Luke, are you all right?” She craned her neck over the backseat.

      Her brother crawled up from the floor. “Shit, Hannah. You could have killed us. Didn’t you see that guy?”

      She looked out the passenger window. The hitchhiker had dropped his duffel bag on the ground and was jogging toward them. He wore military fatigues and a white T-shirt that showed off his powerful arms and an impressive chest. He had short, dark hair, thick beard stubble covered his face and aviator sunglasses hid his eyes. No wonder he hadn’t jumped out of the way—he’d been wearing earbuds.

      Luke opened the back door and got out of the truck.

      “Everyone okay?” the man asked when he reached them. He took off his shades and ran his gaze over Luke.

      “We’re good,” Luke said.

      Hannah joined Luke and said, “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to my driving. I didn’t hit you, did I?”

      “Not by a long shot. How about you?”

      His eyes were a hypnotizing shade of caramel brown. “How about me what?”

      “Did you get hurt?” His sexy mouth spread into a grin.

      She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

      He examined the rear wheel. “You’ve got a flat tire.”

      Hannah peered over his shoulder. She’d been driving on bald tires for months. It had only been a matter of time before one of them blew.

      “If you have a spare, I’ll put it on.”

      Where were her manners? When he stood, she held out her hand. “Hannah Buck.” His warm grasp was the nicest thing she’d touched all morning.

      “Alonso Marquez.”

      “This is my brother, Luke,” she said.

      The males shook hands and Hannah noticed Alonso was only an inch or two taller than Luke’s five-ten.

      “I have a spare,” she said. “Luke, grab the wrench and jack from the toolbox.”

      Her brother climbed into the truck bed and rummaged through the steel storage compartment, then handed the tools to Alonso.

      Hannah closed her eyes and rubbed her brow, where a dull throb beat against her skull. The headache had begun right after she’d picked up Luke from Connor’s.

      “Hey,” a deep voice whispered near her ear, and she jumped. “It’s okay.” Alonso smiled. “No one got hurt.”

      Tears stung her eyes at the note of concern in the stranger’s voice. When was the last time anyone had been worried about her?

      True to his word, Alonso put the spare tire on in record time.

      “Thank you,” she said. “And I’m really sorry I almost ran over you.”

      “Be careful.” He saluted her before walking back to retrieve his bag.

      “Aren’t you going to give him a ride?” Luke asked.

      “We don’t know anything about him,” she said.

      “Who cares? He helped us, didn’t he?”

      True, but what if Alonso turned out to be a serial killer or robbed them at gunpoint after she dropped him off farther down the road? Still...this was a lonely stretch of Highway 8 and the town of Paradise was fifteen miles away.

      “Hey, mister, you want a ride?” Luke shouted.

      Alonso waved Luke off, then put in his earbuds, threw his bag over his shoulder and started walking.

      Luke jogged toward Alonso—funny how his hangover prevented him from doing chores but not racing after strangers. Alonso listened to Luke for a minute, then the two walked back to the truck.

      “I told him that you were worried he might kill us.” Luke nudged Alonso’s arm. “Tell