Her Maverick M.d.. Teresa Southwick

yourself to. But he’d kept talking about himself. It was probably just as well that she’d left before he said more to tick her off. After that fairly spectacular crash and burn he was anxious to get to work. Kids were a much easier crowd.

      Moments after the nurse disappeared the door beside the reception window opened and Emmet DePaulo stood there. The man was tall and lean, somewhere in his sixties. When Jon had heard from family who lived here that there was a need in this town for healthcare professionals, he’d contacted Emmet, who was a nurse-practitioner. They’d met for dinner and Jon had found out the older man was a Vietnam-era veteran in addition to being easygoing and bighearted. He had a neatly trimmed beard that was more silver than brown and a wide, warm smile on his weathered face.

      He’d explained that Rust Creek Falls was a rural area and his advanced nursing degree and certification allowed him to see and treat patients. He’d started this small clinic some years ago and kept it going through skill and sheer guts. That deserved respect. The fact was Emmet had the trust of the people in this town and Jon was the new doctor who would do his best to earn the same. In his book that made Emmet the boss.

      He held out his hand. “Welcome to Rust Creek Falls, Jon. Follow me and we can talk in my office.”

      Behind the other man he walked down a long hallway with exam rooms on either side. Corridors branched off and he figured soon enough he would get a tour of the place. And somewhere here in the back office was the pretty nurse he’d somehow offended, although there was no sign of her now.

      The last door on the left opened to a room with a big flat-topped desk stacked with a computer and enough charts to bring on carpal tunnel. Framed degrees and certifications lined the walls along with a couple of photos. One showed a younger Emmet DePaulo in camouflage with several other people dressed the same way and a tent with a big red cross behind them. His army days.

      “Have a seat, Jon.” When Emmet sat in the cushy black leather chair behind the desk Jon took one in front of it. “I didn’t expect you until next week.”

      “I got here yesterday and decided to stop by. Get a jump on orientation.”

      “Bored?”

      “Maybe.” Jon had been on automatic pilot at his job for a while now and was looking for a change.

      “You saw the standing-room-only in the waiting area. We could sure use your help seeing patients if you’re up for starting work early.”

      “Happy to help.” He sincerely meant that. “Patient overload would explain why the young woman at the front desk was so—”

      “Uptight?” Emmet’s brown eyes sparkled with amusement.

      “I wasn’t going to say it.” Especially since he’d just been taken to task for being judgmental. “But she did seem sort of on edge.”

      “Dawn—”

      “That’s her name?”

      “Yes. Dawn Laramie.”

      “Ah.” One syllable to hide the fact that, in his opinion, the name suited her. She was as lovely as the morning sun coming up over the mountains. That thought stopped him. He was a science and medicine guy, not a poet. Where had that come from?

      “The clinic is very lucky to have her. She’s a pediatric nurse. Came from the PICU at Mountain’s Edge Hospital, the closest Level One trauma center.”

      Jon whistled. “That’s quite the commute from Rust Creek Falls.”

      “Over an hour,” the other man confirmed. “That’s why I was able to lure her to the clinic. And along with Callie Crawford, my other nurse-practitioner, and Brandy Walters, who handles the front office, she’s overworked.”

      “I see.”

      “Like I told you when we talked, Rust Creek Falls is experiencing population growth and we’re really feeling it here at the clinic. Folks don’t abuse our walk-in policy so if they show up it’s because they really need medical attention.” The older man met his gaze. “And we make it a point to see everyone who shows up.”

      “Are you trying to scare me off?”

      “Heaven forbid. Just want you to know what you’re getting into.”

      The job at Thunder Canyon Resort was occasionally challenging, but mostly not. It was cushy and predictable. But that’s exactly what Jon had been looking for when the position was offered to him—time and space to assess his career. The call for help here had come at a point when he was restless and looking for more.

      “I’m ready for whatever you’ve got.”

      “Good.” Emmet leaned forward and rested his forearms on the desk. “And when you’re ready to tear your hair out, you should know that more help is on the way. Another doctor and nurse will be here shortly.”

      “Okay.”

      Emmet stood. “I’ll show you around and introduce you to the staff. Although you’ve already met Dawn.”

      About her... Jon wished he could have a second chance at making a good first impression. But he was sure that when she got to know him, she’d put that initial skirmish behind her.

      The two of them were going to get along just fine.

      * * *

      The new doctor.

      That’s how it started when Dawn’s life had fallen apart.

      She hadn’t thought this day could get any worse when Dr. Jon Clifton had shown up, but she’d been wrong. Apparently the slightest exposure to him deactivated brain function, because she had failed to process the fact that Jamie Stockton was bringing his triplets in for their monthly checkup on Dr. Dreamboat’s first day. Clifton was a pediatrician. As a nurse-practitioner Callie saw patients so Dawn was technically the clinic’s only nurse. Hence, she was going to have to be intimately involved in said checkup.

      An office visit for three babies born prematurely almost six months ago was throwing the new doctor into the deep end of the pool on his first day. She could almost feel sorry for him if she didn’t already feel sorry for herself. Most nurses would be ecstatic at the opportunity to be in an exam room with the good-looking pediatrician. But most nurses hadn’t once upon a time been used and lied to by a new staff doctor. So when the guy had told her she should blush more, warning signals had gone off like a heart monitor during cardiac arrest.

      But he was Emmet’s golden boy and they needed his kind of help here at the clinic. Her job was to assist him and she was all about doing a good job.

      Dawn got a text on her cell phone that Jamie had just pulled into the clinic parking lot on South Lodgepole Lane. She pushed open the back exit door and headed for the rancher’s familiar vehicle. The cowboy slid out of the driver’s side and opened the rear passenger door. He was tall, a blue-eyed blond, although it was hard to tell the color of his hair because of the Stetson he always wore. There was an air of sadness about the tanned, muscular man. His wife had died in childbirth in February, nearly six months ago, and now he was working his ranch and raising triplets by himself.

      He couldn’t manage three infant carriers alone so she always waited for his text, then helped bring the babies inside.

      “Hi, Jamie. How are you?”

      “Tired.” He sighed, looking into the backseat full of babies.

      “I bet.” She reminded herself never again to whine about being exhausted. This single working father of triplets was the walking definition of exhaustion. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in months and had little prospect of one in the near future.

      She grabbed one of the carriers and the bulging diaper bag, while Jamie took the other two and followed her into the building. All of the infants were sleeping soundly, probably soothed by the movement of the car during the drive.

      “We’re going into exam room four, as always.” It was the biggest