The Surgeon's Christmas Baby. Marin Thomas

it matter? As soon as he finished the chore, he’d hit the road again.

Chapter Two

      Hannah stood at her bedroom window and watched hay bales sail out of the barn loft. She was grateful that Alonso had offered to help and embarrassed that he’d witnessed the drama between her and Luke.

      True to his word, her brother had crawled into bed as soon as he’d gone into the house. Luke was a spoiled brat and she accepted much of the blame for his self-centeredness. She’d always felt sorry for him, because Ruth had neglected him. Then, when Luke was old enough to do guy things with their father, Joe had chosen to spend his free time with a can of beer rather than his son. So Hannah had babied Luke and now she was paying the price.

      The tears she’d held back all day dripped down her cheeks. She wiped the moisture away, assuming her weepiness was the result of exhaustion and worry. She returned downstairs, grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and, ignoring the pile of dirty dishes in the sink, she went out to the barn. Halfway there she froze when she caught a glimpse of Alonso’s bare chest. He’d taken his shirt off and his skin glistened with sweat, the muscles rippling when he heaved a bale over his head. The sight of all that masculinity set off an explosion of feminine twinges—erotic little aches that she hadn’t experienced in a long, long while.

      He disappeared from the hayloft window, then a moment later walked out of the barn, his T-shirt hanging from his jeans pocket. “Almost done.” He began picking the bales up off the ground and placing them on the flatbed. The words US Army were tattooed above an image of eagle wings and a snake coiled around a rod. He hadn’t lied about being a military doctor.

      She held out the water bottle.

      “Thanks.” He guzzled the drink, then sucked in a deep breath.

      It was none of her business, but she asked, “How long were you in the Army?”

      “I did one tour in Afghanistan before I returned to civilian life.”

      “Are you originally from New Mexico?”

      “Born and raised in Albuquerque.” He lifted the bottom of his T-shirt and wiped the sweat off his face. “What about you?”

      “Born and raised in Paradise.” Four generations of Bucks had lived on the ranch outside the small town—population just a little over two thousand. “My great-grandfather bought this land.” But it was Hannah’s grandfather who had made most of the improvements—digging the water wells and starting up a bison herd. Sadly her father had run it into the ground.

      “Anything else I can help with before I take off?”

      “No.” She motioned to the flatbed. “You’ve done plenty, thanks.”

      His eyes shifted to the house. “Is your brother okay?”

      She refused to make excuses for Luke. “He’s sleeping off his hangover.”

      “Does he drink often?”

      Was Alonso asking as a doctor or just a guy she’d picked up hitchhiking? “He sneaked a can of beer once in a while before our father died. But last night he got caught binge drinking with a friend.”

      She waited for Alonso to lecture her on the evils of alcohol consumption, which sadly she was all too familiar with. Instead, he said, “Pull your truck over here and I’ll hook it up to the trailer, then you drive and I’ll cut the bales and drop them where you tell me to.”

      She wanted to refuse his help but swallowed her pride. Once Alonso hitched the trailer to the pickup, he walked up to the driver’s-side window. “Blow the horn when you want me to toss a bale.”

      She handed him the wire cutters and work gloves she kept in the truck. After he climbed onto the trailer, she drove off, slowing down when she left the dirt road and entered the pasture. She honked every ten yards. Halfway through her route the bison came over a ridge. After Alonso threw the last bale onto the ground she put the truck into Park and got out.

      He hopped off the trailer. “I’ve never seen bison up close. They’re pretty impressive animals.”

      “My great-grandfather raised cattle. It was my grandfather who switched to bison after he lost an entire herd to disease.” She smiled. “Have you ever eaten bison meat?”

      “Nope.”

      “We sell our bison to gourmet food markets, but once in a while a dude ranch will ask to buy one of the animals to keep as a pet. Tourists get a kick out of seeing them.”

      “How many do you have?”

      “My grandfather kept a herd of three hundred then my father decreased it to two hundred, and right now I have a hundred and fifty.” She’d had to sell thirty head to cover the back taxes. Once the ranch was in better financial shape, she intended to grow the herd again.

      “Ready when you are.” He got in on the passenger side and the musky scent of male sweat and faded cologne filled the cab. She turned the truck around and drove back through the pasture. “I would have been doing this in the dark tonight if you hadn’t offered to help.”

      “You don’t have any ranch hands working for you?”

      “I can’t afford to pay one. If Luke would stay out of trouble and do his share of the chores, we’d manage fine.”

      “Luke mentioned both your parents are gone.”

      Gone sounded temporary, not permanent like dead. Maybe that was how soldiers viewed fatalities in the Army. His comrades never died—they were just gone. “Our father passed away in a horseback-riding accident and Luke’s mother died in a car crash.”

      “Must be rough, handling all this on your own.”

      “It’s been challenging.” She parked next to the barn. “You should stay for supper.” Hannah decided it would be best if she and Luke had a buffer between them for a while—otherwise they might say something they’d regret. “There’s a cot in the storage room in the barn. You can sleep in there tonight, then leave in the morning.”

      Luke would love it if Alonso hung around and did the rest of his chores for him. But that wasn’t why Hannah had extended the invite. She hadn’t been involved with anyone since Seth, and Alonso reminded her of how lonely she was for male attention.

      “I could use a good night’s sleep and a warm meal.”

      She opened her mouth to ask where he was headed then changed her mind. Come morning Alonso would gone.

      * * *

      “MY SISTER SAID you’re staying the night.”

      “I’ll head out in the morning at first light.”

      “You don’t have to clean the horse stalls.”

      “Someone has to do it.” Alonso tossed a clump of soiled hay toward the wheelbarrow.

      Luke climbed the ladder to the loft and sat, legs dangling above Alonso’s head. Obviously the kid would rather watch than help. No wonder Hannah was miffed at her brother.

      “Where will you go when you leave here?” Luke asked.

      “I’m not sure. I don’t have any place in mind.” He pointed to the wheelbarrow. “Lend me a hand, will you?”

      “And do what?”

      Alonso set the pitchfork aside and dragged a hay bale over to a stall, then dropped the wire cutters on top of it. “Spread clean hay in the stalls I’ve already cleaned.”

      Luke took his time climbing down from the loft. “A marine recruiter came to our school at the beginning of the year,” he said, tugging on a pair of work gloves. “He made his job sound like fun. Is it?”

      “I wouldn’t use the