Chapter One
Shep McGraw hurried to the emergency room door. In
his arms, two-year-old old Manuel let out a cry that echoed
in the hospital's parking lot.
Tension and worry tightened Shep's chest. He'd been
through this before with Manuel's earaches. Thank goodness
Dr. Raina Gibson, the boy's ear, nose and throat doc, had
been on call for her practice tonight. He thought about
his two other sons, who were with their nanny. They hadn't
liked him leaving this late at night.
As Shep rushed through the automatic glass doors, he
remembered another fateful ER visit many, many years ago.
He shoved that out of his mind and hugged Manuel closer.
The woman in charge at the registration desk looked
him over—from his tan Stetson to his fine leather boots and
he had to rein in his frustration with red tape. "My
name's Shep McGraw. I'm meeting Dr. Gibson here to treat
my...son."
"Mr. McGraw, if you'll have a seat—"
Manuel's crying had tapered off slightly, but now he
screwed up his cute little round face and howled loud
enough to scare his black wavy hair into disarray.
Shep shifted Manuel to his shoulder. "My boy needs
someone to look at him now." He was about to add that the
Lubbock hospital had all of his information on file when
Dr. Gibson came through a side door and crossed to the desk.
Although Manuel's crying still rent the waiting area,
the beautiful doctor's appearance impacted Shep as it
always did. Her Native American heritage was attractively
obvious in the angles of her cheekbones and chin. Tonight
she'd pulled her long black hair back into a low ponytail
and clasped it with a beaded barrette. The white coat she
wore molded to her long legs as she hurried toward him.
She greeted the woman at the desk as she reached for
Manuel. "I'll take him back, Flo."
After patting Manuel's back and making soothing
noises that quieted him, she said to Shep, "Give Flo your
insurance card so she can put through the paperwork." Then
she headed for the door leading to the examination
cubicles, motioning him to follow.
Shep took out his insurance card, slapped it onto the
desk and followed Raina. He couldn't help but admire her
graceful stride, the straightness of her shoulders even as
she held Manuel and headed for the exam room. He had to
smile at the sneakers she wore that made her look more like
a runner than a doctor.
All was quiet for the moment in this part of the ER
wing. Manuel's cries had faded to tiny hiccups. Shep felt
so sad sometimes for this little boy who'd been neglected,
taken away from his mother and put in a foster home. Shep
knew all about foster homes first-hand, though there was no
indication the couple who'd cared for Manuel was anything
like the foster parents Shep had experienced.
At the door to the exam room, Dr. Gibson paused and
waited for Shep to precede her inside. Although Shep
considered himself more cowboy than gentleman, he motioned
her to go ahead of him. With a small smile and a quick
nod, she did. But when she passed him, he caught the scent
of lemon and his stomach twisted into a knot as it did
whenever he got too close to her. He didn't get too close
to her if he could help it—for lots of very good reasons.
Raina glanced at Shep as she settled Manuel on the
gurney. "On the phone you told me this started about an
hour ago?"
"Yes. Before I put him in his crib. At first I
thought he was just over-tired or didn't want to go to
bed. But then he started pulling on his ear, so I took his
temperature and saw he had a fever."
"I'll take it again," she assured him with quiet
efficiency. Her gaze met his. The earth seemed to shake a
little and they both quickly looked away.
With coiled energy wound tight inside him, Shep moved
to the gurney to hold Manuel. He hadn't intended it, but
somehow his hands got tangled up with hers before she
pulled them away from the little boy. Their gazes
connected again...and this time held. Shep's blood rushed
fast and, in that instant, he thought he saw returned
interest in the pretty doctor's very dark brown eyes.
A moment later, he guessed he was mistaken. In a
small town like Sagebrush, Texas, where they both lived—
about fifteen minutes from Lubbock where this hospital was
located—certain people had a higher gossip profile than
others. Dr. Gibson was one of them.
He'd asked his nanny, Eva, if she knew any
particulars about the doctor and he still remembered what
Eva had said. "Her husband was a firefighter in New York
City. He died on September eleventh. Somehow she picked
up her life and finished her schooling, then returned here
to be with her family. I can only imagine what she's gone
through and it's not something I ever want to think about
going through."
As Shep studied Raina Gibson now, he saw no signs of
a tragic past, unless it had carved the tiny lines by her
eyes and fostered the ever-present quiet and calm he sensed
about her.
She went to the counter where she took an ear
thermometer from its holder. When she returned to the
table, she focused solely on Manuel. "This little guy has
been through so much. I feel so sorry for him. Another
ear infection is the last thing he needs." She cut Shep a
sideways glance. "Or you need. How are Joey and Roy?"
She had treated eight-year-old Joey last year for a
sinus infection that wouldn't quit.
"They're good. They get upset when Manuel's sick,
though. Roy's afraid he'll lose more of his hearing."
Raina studied Manuel's temperature and
frowned. "It's 101E." Seconds later she was examining the
toddler with the otoscope and then her stethoscope.
Finally she gave Shep her verdict. "I don't like the looks
of this, Mr. McGraw."
"Shep," he told her, not for the first time. After
all, Manuel had seen her at least three times over the past
six months.
Now she didn't avoid his gaze, but looked him
directly in the eyes. That was his first clue he wasn't
going to like what she had to say.
"Okay, Shep."
That was the second clue. He had the feeling she'd
used his first name to soften the blow.
"I'll give you a prescription again for Manuel to get
this cleared up. But I have to recommend that you let me
do a procedure to put tubes in his ears. I'm afraid if we
don't, he'll lose his hearing altogether."
Before he caught himself, Shep swore. "Sorry," he
mumbled. "I just don't want to put him through anything
else." He picked up his son from the table, easily lifted
him to his shoulder where Manuel snuggled against his
collarbone.
Raina's gaze was sympathetic, her voice gentle. "I
know what he's dealt with already. But he's in your care
now, and I can see that you love him. You have to think
beyond the procedure to when he's three or four. You have
to do what's best for him long-term."
Shep patted Manuel's back. Finally he said, "Tell me
what's involved."
Taking a few steps closer, Raina stopped within arm's
reach. "The surgery's called a myringotomy. I make a tiny
incision in the eardrum and any fluid will be removed.
Then I'll insert a tympanostomy tube into the drum to keep
the middle ear aerated. We'll leave the tubes in from six
months to several years."
She was close enough that Shep was aware of her body
heat as well as his. "Will he have to have surgery to
remove them again?"
Tilting her head, she ran her hand over Manuel's hair
then brought her gaze back to Shep's. "No. Eventually
they'll extrude from the eardrum and fall into the ear
canal. I'll be able to remove them during a routine office
visit or they'll just fall out of his ears."
Shep could hardly imagine his small son in this big
hospital with medical personnel caring for him. "And you
believe we have to do this?"
"Shep, Manuel has already lost some hearing. You
know that from the assessment I did. I'm afraid if we
don't do this, he'll have speech problems, too."
"And the down side?"
"I'll give you a sheet of information and you can
read about the pros and cons. As often as you're bringing
Manuel to me, I don't think you have a choice."
"I hate hearing statements like that," Shep muttered.
Manuel began crying again and Shep rocked him back
and forth. "How long will this operation take?" he asked
over the baby's heart-breaking distress.
Raina leaned closer to him as if in empathy...as if
she might want to take Manuel into her arms again...as if
she hated seeing a child cry.
"Ten to fifteen minutes. It's done on an outpatient
basis. Manuel will be given anesthesia. Once he's
recovered from that, he can go home. Chances are good
he'll feel better right away because that pressure in his
ears will be released. He's been suffering with this for
too long. And so have you," she added with an
understanding Shep found almost unsettling.
Again their gazes locked and neither of them seemed
to be able to look away. Shep didn't know what was
happening to him, but he didn't like it. Every time he
stared into those impossibly dark eyes of hers he felt
unnerved, and if he was forced to admit it, aroused. That
wasn't what he should feel standing in this cubicle with
her while he held Manuel. He should feel
grateful...nothing else.
He must have been scowling from here into the next
county and she misinterpreted his expression. "I know
you're worried. Every parent worries when anything is wrong
with his child. But try to anticipate a positive outcome.
Think about Manuel not having any more painful earaches."
"The anesthesia bothers me," he admitted.
"You must trust the doctors here. Give us a chance
to help him."
Shep was used to being in control. His history had
taught him not to let anyone else run his life...let alone
his son's. "How soon do you want to do this?"
"How about next week?"
"That soon?"
"You have a housekeeper, right?"
Did the doctor remember this kind of information
about all her patients? "Yes, Eva. She'll be able to take
care of Joey and Roy if I'm not home."
Obviously thinking that distracting him for a minute
might be a good thing, Raina said, "Roy's and Joey's
adoptions are final now, aren't they?"
"Yes, they are."
"And Manuel's?"
"I'll be his dad in a few months if all goes well.
"I admire what you're doing, Mr. McGraw."
"Shep," he reminded her again, suspecting she used
his surname to distance herself. Why would she need to
distance herself? Could she be as interested in him as he
was in her? It had been a long time since he'd wanted to
pursue his interest in a woman.
"Shep," she repeated, her cheeks coloring a
little. "Giving these boys a home is so important. And
you obviously care about them a great deal."
"I wouldn't have decided to adopt them if I didn't.
The foster care system—" He shook his head. "It's not
like it once was, but it's hard for children to feel loved
when they don't know where they'll be sleeping the next
night."
After being abandoned by his mother, a series of
foster homes as well as a chief of police had convinced
Shep he wasn't worthy of anyone's love...until a kind
rancher, Matt Forester, had proven differently. Matt had
been Shep's role model and Shep was determined to give Roy,
Joey and Manuel the same leg up Matt had given him and his
friend Cruz.
Raina was looking at him thoughtfully, as if there
were more to him than she'd ever realized. Her intense
gaze made his interest in her pick up to a new level, and
he had to tamp down a sudden urge to touch her face.
He felt warm and uncomfortable, and now just wanted
to get the prescription for Manuel and leave.
The doctor cut through the awkwardness between them
by suddenly pulling a pamphlet from a stack on the counter
and a pad from her pocket. She wrote out the prescription,
then handed the papers to him. "Go home and think about
the procedure. Look at the pamphlet I've given you. I'll
be in my office tomorrow. Call me if you have any
questions."
Someone knocked on the door.
Raina went to it and opened it, then returned with a
few papers. "You need to sign these before you leave."
As he signed the forms, he tried to make conversation—
anything to distract himself from her quiet beauty.
"Did you come in just for Manuel or have you been
here all day?"
She gave a shrug. "This has been an exceptionally
long day. I had office hours this morning, surgeries this
afternoon and a complication that kept me here." At his
look she was quick to assure him, "Not for anyone who had
tubes inserted in their ears."
Shep smiled the first smile that had come naturally
since he'd entered the emergency room. "You knew I was
going to ask."
"You're the type who would."
"Type?"
"You care, Mr. McGraw. You ask questions and you
want answers. That's a good type to be when you're a
parent." There was admiration in her voice.
"You're going to have to practice using my given
name."
Another blush stained her cheeks. "Maybe I will.
I'll walk you out."
As they strode side-by-side to the reception area
once more, Manuel stilled on Shep's shoulder. He could
tell the little boy was almost falling asleep. His crying
had exhausted him.
Raina must have seen that, because as they stopped at
the entrance to the hallway leading to the pharmacy, she
peered around Shep's shoulder at Manuel's face and then
gently patted him on the back. "I imagine he'll get more
sleep tonight than you will."
"You probably imagine right."
Standing there like that, staring down into her eyes,
Shep felt totally unsettled. His gut tightened, his collar
felt too restrictive and he was overcome by a desire to
kiss her.
He was absolutely crazy.
A woman like Raina Greystone Gibson wouldn't give a
man like him a second look. Her husband had been a hero.
And Shep?
He was no hero...and because of his past, he never
would be.
#
The following Wednesday, Raina hurried to the day
surgery waiting room. Manuel had been her last surgery of
the day, and she was eager to bring his father good news.
However, when she reached the doorway to the waiting room
she stopped cold as her gaze went immediately to an
obviously nervous Shep McGraw.
To her dismay she felt flustered, knowing she was
going to have to talk to him again. That was ridiculous!
She didn't fluster easily. But something about this tall,
lean cowboy got to her and she couldn't figure out why.
Since Clark had died, no man had made her feel much of
anything. But then the way Clark had died probably had
something to do with that.
Closing her mind to memories she didn't revisit
often, she watched Shep McGraw for a few seconds. He sat
alone, away from the others in the waiting room, staring at
the cable channel news on the TV. But she could tell he
wasn't really absorbing what he was watching. He'd checked
his watch twice since she'd stood in the doorway.
Why did he get to her? Because he was such a
concerned dad? Shep had had such a difficult time stepping
away from Manuel to let the baby be taken to surgery.
Still, she'd seen concerned fathers before. Maybe he got
to her because he was a single dad doing the best he could
with three boys he was adopting. That had to be it.
After all, she knew Manuel's story because Shep had
given her the baby's history the first time she'd treated
him. Manuel had gone into foster care malnourished and
sickly when he was almost seventeen months old. A month
after that, Shep had received a call from a contact working
in the system who'd told him about Manuel and asked if he
was interested in adopting a third child. Shep had gone to
see Manuel and made the decision on the spot. Thanks
goodness the toddler's mother had finally cared enough to
sign away her parental rights. Manuel's father was nowhere
to be found.
Raina suspected some particular motivation drove Shep
to save children from the system. She was becoming more
and more curious what that motivation could be.
Not for the first time, Raina reminded herself her
interest couldn't have anything to do with Shep's six-foot
height, dark brown hair, the very blue eyes that reminded
her of a Texas sky on a clear summer day. He could
probably crook his finger at a multitude of women and
they'd come running. But he wasn't crooking his finger,
and she wondered why. She'd heard he was well off. He'd
bought a huge ranch on the outskirts of Sagebrush, invested
in a barn full of horses, remodeled the house and
refurbished the barn. He'd also purchased a business—a
lumberyard. He might look like a cowboy on the exterior,
but inside she got the feeling he was a shrewd
businessman. He'd supposedly sold commercial real estate
in California before moving to Sagebrush and made a
bundle. Yet he didn't flaunt his wealth. In fact, the
locals said he spent a good bit of time at the lumberyard
as well as on his ranch.
He glanced at the doorway. Spotting her, he was on
his feet in an instant.
She stepped a few paces to the side of the doorway
for a little privacy, faced him and smiled. "Manuel came
through the procedure with flying colors. He's in
recovery. If you'd like to come sit by his bed while he
wakes up, that's fine. After he's aware that you're there,
we'll wait another half hour or so until the anesthesia
wears off. Then you can take him home."
"Just a half hour? Are you sure he'll be okay? And
you said something about instruction sheets and eardrops."
Impulsively she reached out and clasped his
arm. "Shep, he'll be fine. We won't let you leave without
the instruction sheets."
As her fingers made contact with his tanned skin,
sensations registered from her fingertips to her brain—his
heat, the strength of the muscle in his forearm, the
tingling in her belly that seemed to come from nowhere.
His eyes met hers and for a moment they were both aware of
the contact. She quickly released his arm.
He was wearing a Stetson and he took it off now and
ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it. "Will you take
me to him?"
"Sure."
They walked side by side down the hall. Shep was six
inches taller than she was—a couple of inches taller than
Clark. But where Clark had been husky, Shep was lean.
Clark had worked out with weights to keep his body in prime
condition for his job. But she had the feeling Shep
McGraw's muscles came from his work on the ranch and at his
lumberyard.
She shook her head to clear it from such insane
thoughts. "Will your housekeeper be available this evening?"
Shep arched a brow at Raina.
"I just wondered if she'll be helping to care for
Manuel tonight."
"More than likely she'll keep Roy and Joey busy so
that I can take care of Manuel. Eva often jokes that I
moved from laid-back California to wild west Texas never
expecting life to be as unpredictable as it has been. But
I don't regret one day of it and I don't think she does,
either. I'll show her anything you show me, in case she
needs to know."
"Is she...older?" Raina asked, telling herself she
needed the information for purely professional reasons.
"Don't let her hear you say she's older," he joked
with a wry smile. It was a crooked smile that made Raina's
pulse beat just a little faster. "She's in her fifties,"
he went on, "but won't say exactly where in her fifties."
Raina chuckled. "She sounds like a woman after my
own heart. We should never have to divulge our age."
"Let me guess," Shep said. "You're thirty-seven."
"How did you—?"
"Gotcha," he teased. "I have a friend who's a doc in
Santa Fe. I know how long med school took him. And you
started practicing here after your residency, right?"
"A year and a half ago," she confirmed with a nod.
"That's about when Joey and Roy came to live with me."
"And Manuel joined you six months ago."
"That's right. It's been a roller coaster ride."
She laughed. "You're a brave man, Shep McGraw,
taking in three boys and having the confidence to raise
them."
"Confidence or insanity," he muttered.
She laughed again.
They reached a door with big black letters—AUTHORIZED
ADMITTANCE ONLY. Raina opened the door and let Shep
inside. He spotted Manuel right away and made a beeline
for him, Raina hurrying to catch up. She glanced at the
monitors, then asked the nurse at Manuel's bedside, "How's
he doing?"
"He's doing great."
Shep caught a stray stool with the toe of his boot
and dragged it to Manuel's bedside. He sank down on it and
took the little boy's hand. "How are you doing, kiddo?
There's nothing to worry about now. I'm here and we're
going home soon."
"Home?" Manuel repeated, his eyes still a little
unfocused.
"Yep, home. Joey and Roy and Eva are waiting for us."
Raina went to a side counter, picking up a sheaf of
papers. She brought them over to Shep, then went over the
instructions for giving Manuel the eardrops and changing
the cotton in his ears. "Everything's explained here. If he
runs a fever or if anything seems out of the ordinary, call
me immediately. My service can page me."
Shep's attention shifted from her to his son in the
bed. His gaze ran over Manuel—from the little gown he was
wearing to the cotton in his ears.
Shep was quiet for a moment, then he swiveled around
on the stool to face her. "Are you done here for the day?"
"Yes, I'm off to run some errands. But as I said my
service can always contact me."
"How would you like to do something a little more
exciting than running errands?"
"And what would that be?" She was really curious.
"How would you like to come to the Red Creek Ranch
and get a taste of just how wild the West can be?"