Falling for the cowboy d.., p.12
Falling for the Cowboy Doc, page 12
When in Texas... He loosened his tie and tossed it on the visitor’s chair in Dr. Toro’s office. He also rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows and released the top button at his neck. His boots were in his bedroom closet at the farmhouse. With nothing left to loosen up, he grabbed the chart for exam room one and met up-and-coming bull rider Jake Dean Wolfolk.
Twenty minutes later, Grant walked beside J.D. toward the front desk. The bull rider’s limp was pronounced, but he never winced.
“We could use you on site, Doc.” J.D. wiped his hand through his blond hair before setting his cowboy hat back in place. “Dr. Toro keeps threatening to retire every time he comes out to watch us ride.”
“It’ll be years before Dr. Toro retires,” Grant said.
“But another set of trained and qualified eyes like yours in the arena would be good.” J.D. selected a candy from a bowl Grant hadn’t seen before. The cowboy peeled off the wrapper and popped the hard sweet into his mouth. “It’d save us some travel time to Belleridge too.”
Soon enough the travel time to reach Grant would be even farther. With the fastest route being by air. Impractical for rodeo competitors hauling horses and gear like Maggie. Not that Maggie would be traveling to California for Grant. Or that he’d ever ask her to. Grant concentrated on his patient. “Remember ice and elevation every day, J.D. As often as you can manage.”
“Got it, Doc.” J.D. tapped his knuckles against the counter. “Mags, do us all a favor and convince Doc Sloan to join you at the arena.”
“Afraid I don’t have any influence over Dr. Sloan.” Maggie handed the bull rider an appointment card. Her expression was neutral. Her words were optimistic. “But I’ll put in a good word on behalf of all the competitors.”
“See you in Amarillo, Mags.” J.D. slipped the card in his front shirt pocket. “Call me if you need anything when you get to town.”
“Will do.” Maggie finished typing and called out, “Rest and elevation isn’t code for binge eating either, J.D. Skip the double patty cheeseburger and loaded French fries in the drive-thru. The bull will thank you in a few weeks.”
“You’re cruel, Mags.” J.D. pressed his hand against his stomach. “What am I supposed to eat?”
“Carrots and roasted cauliflower,” Maggie replied.
“Doc, I changed my mind. You come down to the arena.” J.D. aimed his sunglasses at Maggie. “And leave no-fun Mags at home.”
Grant watched the sliding doors close, then grinned at Maggie. He should probably thank her for her suggestion to loosen his attire. Just removing his tie had instantly relaxed him. And his conversation with J.D. had been surprisingly easy. They’d quickly come to understand each other. He appreciated Maggie’s words and frankness. “Did you hear that?”
“What?” Maggie’s finger tapped on the computer keyboard.
“J.D. just called me fun.” Grant added an extra dose of light teasing to his words.
“No, he called me no-fun Mags,” she corrected him.
“It’s the same thing.” Grant picked up the clipboard with the afternoon schedule but kept his attention on Maggie. “Someone thinks I’m fun, even in my dress shirt and slacks. What do you think about that, no-fun Mags?”
“I think you have patients waiting, Dr. Skip-the-tie-and-wear-boots-next-time Sloan.” Maggie handed him a folder. Still, there was a definite spark in her gaze. “This is for exam room two.”
He scanned the patient appointments for the afternoon. He recognized the name of a bronc rider from conversations with Ryan. Then it was a possible torn ACL for a cheerleader from the university not an hour south of the clinic. And a shoulder strain for a nationally ranked swimmer. Hardly the patient load he’d expected to find in small town Belleridge. Yet, Grant couldn’t say he was disappointed.
He might not ooze sincerity like Maggie, but Grant knew his purpose. That was to get all of his patients back to living their best lives. On their terms. Just like he lived his. He headed to exam room two.
It wasn’t long before Grant’s last patient headed out the main doors promising to drop off zucchini bread for the staff the following day. While the staff exited, too, Grant approached Maggie’s desk. “I’ve got a few more clinical notes to dictate, then I think we can call it a day.”
“Take your time,” Maggie said. “I want to research junior miss rodeo contests. The phones were busy most of the afternoon and I never got a chance at lunch.”
Maggie had proven to be more than capable as the clinic’s receptionist. While Grant had proven less than capable of keeping away from her. He’d even taken to walking his patients out, escorting them all the way to the desk and Maggie. Something for him to work on tomorrow.
The main doors slid open. A pair of silver-haired retirees bustled through the entrance, their steps spry and their expressions shrewd. Grant quickly assessed the petite pair. No catch in their gait. Their arms swung and hands moved as they chatted spiritedly with each other.
Grant grinned, stepped into the waiting room and greeted the town’s favorite sister act. “Hello, Breezy. Gayle. What brings you two by? You don’t have appointments.”
“Don’t be thinking we’ve come to talk about replacements, knee or any kind, Doc Sloan.” Breezy Baker’s thin eyebrows flexed into her forehead. “We have important bowling league business to discuss with Maggie over there.”
Gayle Baker shooed Grant toward the fill-in receptionist. “Doc! Will you get on with the introductions, so we can get on with our important bowling business?”
Grant ran through a quick introduction. In took less time for Maggie to fall under the Bakers’ spell. The duo was instantaneously likable.
Formalities concluded, Gayle hurried around the wide desk, her tote bag bouncing against it. She bundled Maggie into her arms for an enthusiastic hug, then cradled Maggie’s face in her palms. “Aren’t you stunning, dear. With your blue eyes big as a baby doe’s. Look, Breezy, isn’t Maggie lovely?”
“Sure is.” Breezy nudged her sister aside to get a better look at Maggie. Delight laced Breezy’s clever gaze. “You must have your choice of cowboys on the circuit.”
That observation didn’t sit well with Grant. Most likely because he suspected it was true. But jealous wasn’t something Grant ever aspired to be.
“Once upon a time, Breezy and I had our picks too.” Gayle’s laughter was as cheerful as the sunflowers painted on her overalls.
“We still do.” Breezy pressed her fingers against her cheeks as if to catch the cackle in her laugh.
“I don’t know about having my pick.” Maggie looked to Grant, then to the sisters. Her hands slipped into the pockets in her sundress. “But it hardly matters. I’ve decided that cowboys are just too much trouble. And I’m much better being on my own.”
On that point, Maggie and Grant agreed. Wholeheartedly, in fact. Which made it strange that he felt slightly apologetic and almost regretful right now.
“Oh, you poor dear.” Gayle wrapped her arm around Maggie’s waist and squeezed. Her frown dipped into glum. “Got a bruised heart, I suppose. Cowboys always seem to forget to tread lightly.”
“It’s their boots.” Breezy pursed her lips and studied Grant as if awaiting his apology.
Grant caught Maggie’s grin before she smoothed her expression back to impartial. Grant stepped around the counter into full view of the lively retirees and pointed at his dress shoes. “Well, it’s a good thing then that I don’t wear boots.”
Gayle sniffed and pushed her owl-round glasses up her nose. “Doesn’t mean you know how to tread any softer, Grant Sloan.”
“Sure doesn’t. But we’ll have to get back to matters of the heart later, dears,” Breezy announced. “Right now, we’ve got a bowling predicament. And, Maggie, your sister claims you can solve it for us.”
Maggie gaped. “I’m not sure what Kelsey told you.”
“We had a lovely lunch with her and Nolan at the Owl today,” Gayle explained. “She’s quite delightful.”
“Your sister and Nolan make such a sweet pair.” Breezy sighed into her clasped hands. “Couldn’t have matched them better myself. Too bad about her shoulder, though.”
“Otherwise, we would’ve recruited her to be on our bowling team tonight.” Gayle rummaged inside the tote bag on her arm.
“But Kelsey claims you’re a much better bowler than her anyway.” Breezy beamed at Maggie. “That’s why we need you, Maggie. We’ve got a winning streak to uphold.”
“We’re undefeated this season,” Gayle exclaimed, then sobered. “But we lost Celia-Ann Guthrie. Her daughter, Nicole rolled her ankle something good at the park, chasing her two-year-old. Doc Sloan, you saw Nicole here earlier this week.”
“She was the pregnant one,” Breezy whispered as if he needed his memory jogged.
Grant nodded and tried to keep up. Maggie’s gaze had narrowed slightly as if she was concentrating too.
“Doc Sloan put the poor mother-to-be in one of those cumbersome boots, then told Nicole to get a chair for her knee to wheel around on. How she gets upstairs to her children’s rooms I don’t know.” Breezy looked momentarily perplexed as she paused to catch her breath.
Grant rubbed his forehead, exhausted for Breezy and Celia-Ann’s daughter, Nicole.
Breezy rattled on, “Anyway, Celia-Ann is babysitting her grandkids on account of her son-in-law needing to go to Houston for a last-minute business meeting, and Nicole needing to rest and put her bad ankle on ice.”
Gayle flung her arms out. Alarm widened her eyes. “Now we’ve lost Celia-Ann to her grandma duties and she’s our ringer for league play tonight.”
“We must have a ringer.” Breezy watched Maggie. Hope shifted across her face.
“Just so I’m clear.” Maggie held up her hand. “You want me to bowl with you for your league tonight?”
Gayle and Breezy glanced at each other. Their faces scrunched as if they weren’t sure what had been unclear about their request.
Grant cleared his throat, ready to give Maggie an out.
“I’d love to be on your team.” Maggie’s smile stretched wide. “Although I have to warn you, I haven’t bowled for a while.”
“It’s like riding a bike.” Breezy all but ignored Maggie’s warning. “One or two practice runs and it’ll all come back to you.”
“Kind of like dating,” Gayle mused. “You go out on a few practice dates. Remember why it’s fun and worthwhile, then you settle right back into the game.”
“I’m happy to bowl.” Maggie straightened the folders on the desk and avoided looking at Grant. “But dating and love aren’t a game I ever intend to play again.”
Love wasn’t a game Grant wanted to play either. They had that in common too. Yet the insight left him more deflated than elated.
“It’s best we leave your dating discord for another time, dear.” Gayle’s words were sympathetic. Then she tugged a metallic purple button-down shirt from her tote bag. “We need you to concentrate on winning.”
“Can’t have any discord in the alley. Makes the balls skid into the gutter. We certainly don’t want that.” Breezy took the purple shirt from her sister and handed it to Maggie. “Now here’s your team shirt. Your sister already sparkled it up for you at lunch. Such a thoughtful girl.”
Maggie hugged the shirt against her chest as if the sisters had given her a precious gift. With a flurry of hugs and see you tonights, the sisters departed.
Not long after, Grant drove out of the clinic parking lot and glanced at Maggie in the passenger seat of his truck. “Am I really taking you to bowling league?”
“Absolutely.” Maggie smoothed her hands over the bowling shirt she put on over her sundress.
“Are you always like this?” Grant asked.
“Like what?” Maggie twisted the end of the shirt into a loose knot at her waist.
“So willing and ready to join in.” She’d jumped right in at the office too. Blending in as if she’d always worked there. As if she’d always been friends with the staff. She was the same at the farmhouse. She just seemed to fit wherever she was. Even beside him right now.
“Are you always so standoffish?” she countered. “Or are you shy? You secretly want to bowl, but you’re afraid no one will pick you for their team.”
Grant swallowed his laugh. “I’ve never been called shy.”
“That’s what I thought,” Maggie mused then she reached over and touched his arm. “Don’t worry, Dr. Sloan, we’ll find you a team.”
Grant wanted to take her hand in his. Pick his own team. Pick Maggie.
But Grant had never been much of a team player. So, he kept his hands on the steering wheel and a tight grip on his heart.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MAGGIE KEPT HER hand on Grant’s arm a beat past friendly and fleeting. She acknowledged the warmth of his skin. His strength. Considered holding on. As if she wanted to encourage whatever was between them. But to what end? An even more uncomfortable goodbye.
She pulled her arm away. She was alone with her doctor. For the first time all day. Didn’t mean she couldn’t keep to herself. Although, she wanted to know about his interview. And if he liked her being in the office as much as she’d enjoyed being there. Really, anything he wanted to share. But this wasn’t the start of something. Sharing and handholding were reserved for next-level relationships.
Yet, the slow tempo of the country song about lazy mornings and stolen kisses only circled her back to Grant and the idea of leveling up things between them. The quiet inside the truck cab seemed to stretch in anticipation.
“I’ve been reading up on junior miss rodeo contests.” Maggie fumbled with her cell phone and scattered the silence. “I think the hardest part is the speech. Hands down. I would’ve been terrified at nine years old to give a three-minute speech, knowing I was being judged.”
Grant glanced at her. “Weren’t you competing in the arena when you were that age?”
“That was me and my horse against a clock.” Maggie swiped her finger across her phone screen. “Would you have gotten on stage for a speech about you, your horse and what the rodeo means to you when you were nine years old? Never mind making it fun and creative to display your personality in order to win over a panel of judges.”
“When I was nine, my brothers and I were at the pond, climbing trees to find the strongest branch for our rope swing.” He chuckled. “All we cared about was seeing who could swing the farthest over the water and make the biggest splash. Good times.”
“Sounds like it.” Maggie considered him. His smile was soft and relaxed as if he welcomed a really great, forgotten memory. That, she was learning, was his look whenever he talked about his family. He loved them. That much was obvious. Yet, he was leaving. And she was suddenly curious. “So, tell me, when did this whole brooding, I-go-it-alone thing start?”
“What thing is that?” Confusion crowded through his words.
“Well, every story you tell from your childhood starts with my brothers and I,” she said. “Did you know that?” And whenever Grant spoke of his family, he lit up.
His mouth opened, then closed. His focus remained on the road.
Maggie continued, “But Tess had to beg you to come to breakfast with your family.” When he opened his mouth again as if to argue, Maggie cut him off. “Don’t deny it. I heard you and Tess on the porch the other morning.”
“It’s impolite to eavesdrop.” There was no censure in his words.
“I wasn’t eavesdropping. I was walking back to the house,” Maggie said. “And you guys weren’t exactly being quiet.”
Grant flinched as if he was rewinding his conversation with Tess in his mind.
Maggie should stop. She saw the bowling alley sign up ahead. And this was none of her business. But his family was the kind she’d dreamed about as a kid—loud, loyal, and loving. Not to mention the farmhouse and the ranch. So much space. So much freedom. It was the kind of place where boots were planted. Yet, it was cut and run for her doctor. “Did something happen to set you off on your own path without your family?”
“Nothing happened.” Grant pulled into the bowling alley and parked. Then he shrugged. “We all grew up. It happens in every family.”
But growing up didn’t mean growing apart. Maggie unbuckled, reached for her purse, and closed the conversation. He obviously knew what was best for him. She wasn’t there to change his mind. Besides, her roots were shallow and no deeper than the pavement. Even if there was something about Three Springs that had her thinking more and more about home.
Grant cut the engine and grinned at her. “You can still back out.”
“No way.” Maggie opened her door and smiled over her shoulder at him. “Come on, Dr. Sloan, let me show you how much fun joining in can be.”
“I’m just dropping you off,” he said, yet he followed her inside.
Bowling shoes in hand, Maggie made her way over to lane eight and her teammates. Breezy introduced Maggie to Freida Hall, their fourth teammate.
“I make sure to do everything the same week after week.” The former school teacher dabbed more bright red lipstick onto her lips then finger-combed her silver side-swept bangs into place. Freida added, “It’s part of my secret to getting two consecutive strikes in a game.”
Gayle linked her arm with Freida’s. “We’ve time for a quick restroom break before play begins.”
Maggie laced up her bowling shoes and watched the pair work the crowded bowling alley as if they were the hostesses of a formal gala. Stopping for hugs and quick exchanges every few steps.
“Grant, we’re happy to bring Maggie back to the farmhouse later,” Breezy offered. She wiped a polishing cloth over her silver-flecked purple-and-pink bowling ball.
