From Doctor...to Daddy (9 page)

She laughed at that wild scenario. “Oh, Dillon, you make it all sound so foolish.”

“Not foolish. I know what other people say can hurt. But you have to let it slide off of you.”

“What happened with Scott filled me with insecurities. It's been hard to regain my own self-respect, let alone the respect of others.” She looked up at him with those sparkling brown eyes that practically took his breath away. “But when I'm sitting here with you like this,” she went on, “I can believe what the rest of the world thinks doesn't matter.”

Where they were sitting, no one could see them. It was just the two of them and the mountains and the wonderful blue sky. He bent his head and gently but possessively took her lips. She responded by opening them to him. He searched her mouth for the passion that had lighted so easily with them…and he found it. Soon they were both breathing hard and not from the altitude.

Eventually he broke away and rested his forehead against hers. “Why don't you take the rest of the afternoon off. You worked extra hours on the workshop info.”

“I don't want special perks because you're my boss.”

“No special perks, just comp time. I know you're putting in more hours than you should on Frontier Days.”
He dropped his arm from her, rose to his feet, but held out his hand to help her up. When she took it, he felt he had jumped a major hurdle. He felt Erika had finally confided in him and trusted him.

Now what was he going to do with that trust?

 

The infirmary suite was quiet a few hours later as Dillon sat at his computer. Suddenly there was a rap on his door and a familiar male voice inquired, “Is there a doctor in the house?”

Dillon grinned as his cousin D.J. walked in. He wore a sweatshirt and jeans and didn't look anything like the rich man he was.

“There definitely is a doctor in the house. Whenever I've stopped by the Rib Shack you haven't been there.”

D.J. shrugged. “The manager's great. I stop in at least once a day and make sure the quality of the food and service is up to par. But with Allaire teaching, time with her and Alex is precious.”

D.J. and Allaire had been best friends in high school, but then D.J.'s brother, Dax, had come along and swept her off her feet for a while. After she and Dax divorced, D.J. returned to town, finding his unrequited love was now returned. They'd been married for three years and were definitely each other's soul mates.

D.J. produced foam containers from his bag, set one in front of Dillon and one in front of himself. “I figured you'd be working through dinner. That's country-fried steak with corn bread, gravy, green beans and smashed potatoes. I know you like the ribs, but this is good, too.”

Dillon opened the container and the aroma from the freshly made food made his stomach grumble. “I'm glad
you stopped, food or no food. I intended to get out to your place again, but I think this month is going to speed by.”

“That's why I'm here, to offer you a special invitation. Allaire thinks you need some home cooking and down-time. She says with being on call twenty-four hours a day, you're stressed and don't know it. So she wants you to come out to the ranch on Saturday and stay overnight. Babchek will cover for you, won't he?”

“I don't know. I'll have to check with him and Ruthann, too.”

“So check and let us know.” After a short pause and few bites of his steak, D.J. added, “Allaire said you could bring a guest if you want.”

Dillon cut D.J. a sharp glance. “A guest?”

“Rumor has it that a certain pretty receptionist was caught kissing you in the parking lot.”

“I can't believe Erika was right about the gossip.”

“She heard it?”

“Today. She was upset.”

“Is it true?” D.J. prodded.

“About the parking lot? I was kissing her, and she was kissing me back,” he replied succinctly.

“If the gossip had been about Corey, I would have believed it right away. You? Not so much. This isn't like you. You'll be going back to Texas, won't you?”

“Truthfully, I'm not sure what I'll be doing.”

“Is there sizzle between you two?”

“There's sizzle.”

D.J. grinned at him. “So ask her to come to the ranch with you.”

“I doubt if she'll leave her daughter for the weekend.”

“She can bring her little girl along. I'm sure Dax will
be over with Kayla and Max. The kids will have a ball. Run it by her and see what she says.”

Dillon thought about their last kiss and wondered himself what Erika would say….

E
rika sat in D.J. and Allaire's living room, feeling in a way as if she'd landed on another planet. When Dillon had asked her to join him here this weekend, she'd remembered how she had confided in him about the gossip…how she'd trusted him. She was confused about her growing feelings for him, but she hoped spending more time with him would ease that confusion. After all, they wouldn't be alone here together. What could happen?

The ranch house was huge and lovely. Allaire's artistic touches were everywhere—from a painting on the living room wall, to the pictures of their little boy, Alex, which were set off in beautiful, hand-painted frames. The couple had welcomed her into their home as if she were an old friend. Dax and Shandie were warm and friendly, too. It was easy to see the bond between the two brothers even though Erika had heard
their relationship had been rocky until recently. Watching from the sidelines, she felt the affection among the cousins as they cracked jokes and held interested conversations. They were all wonderful with the children…including Emilia.

Erika supposed what made her feel the most strange was studying these three men who obviously enjoyed caring for children. Had her father and Scott been the exception, not the rule? Or were D.J., Dax and Dillon rare finds?

The sense of family these three men shared was a bit awe-inspiring. Their connection shouldn't create more conflict within her, but for some reason it did.

Was it real?
was the question that screamed inside her head.
Could it last?
was the question that followed.

Dillon finished speaking with Dax and came to sit beside her on the colorful patchwork sofa. Kayla—Dax and Shandie's daughter—had corralled Emilia and was sitting beside the beautiful stone fireplace with her, playing with the busy box Dillon had given her.

As Dillon leaned close to Erika, he murmured into her ear, “What's going through that pretty head of yours?”

“How do you know anything is?” she teased.

He touched the tip of his finger to her lower lip. “Because you bite your lip, and your brow furrows, and you push your hair over your shoulder. That's how I can tell you're thinking.”

His words caught her totally off guard. No man had ever analyzed her so well. Yes, she knew those were her habits, but no one had cared to notice them before.

“You look shocked,” he said in a low voice. “Why? Don't you think I watch you when you talk to me, when you're busy, when you're worried?” He
bumped her shoulder. “I, of course, have no telltale idiosyncrasies.”

“Oh, yes, you do,” she protested. She touched the middle of his forehead with her index finger. “You get one very big furrow right there.” Then she stroked right below his temple by both eyes. “And here, the little lines become deeper.” She brushed the muscle along his neck. “When you're really upset or disturbed by something, this pulses.”

By the time she was finished, she knew neither of them should be touching each other in this public setting because they were setting off signals, igniting sparks, inciting intimacy that couldn't be continued here.

“So I guess we both read each other pretty well,” Dillon suggested huskily.

“Maybe. But all of that's just on the surface. We can't see the real feelings inside.”

“Maybe not,” he agreed. “But if you use clues, you'll always find the answer to the mystery.”

“The same way you diagnose?” she asked.

“Sort of. So tell me what you were trying to diagnose before I came over.”

She suddenly felt as if those thoughts were private territory, not something Dillon could help her with. On the other hand, maybe he could clear them up. “Do Dax and D.J. act like fathers all the time?”

“Do you mean are they putting on a show for your benefit?”

“Exactly.”

“They're fathers all the time. They have as much care of their kids as their wives do. They have to. Both of their wives work.”

“I know Allaire teaches high school. I don't know much about Shandie.”

“She's a hairdresser. She's part owner of Clip N' Curl Salon. She and Dax juggle their schedules to take care of the baby. Kayla's in first grade so they have some leeway there. Allaire and D.J. do the same.” He paused for a moment then added, “And Allaire and Shandie both had to face gossip in their lives. I'm not going to tell you about it, because I think they should. I think you have a lot in common with them.”

Did she? Had these beautiful, confident, loving women had to face what she'd faced? Dillon dropped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. She did like the feeling of belonging that gave her. They were here as a couple and in spite of everything, that felt right. Yet she couldn't let herself get too used to it. She couldn't depend on the slippery hope that it would continue to feel right.

So for that reason, she moved away from Dillon and rose to her feet. “I'd better see if Allaire needs some help in the kitchen. I can't believe she prepared supper for everyone herself.” Erika knew they were having meat loaf and mashed potatoes, hot wings and vegetable casseroles. Wanting to do her part, she had brought a batch of oatmeal cookies for the kids and Waldorf salad for the adults.

“Allaire likes to cook, and I'm sure D.J. didn't let her do those wings all by herself. Not with his secret barbecue sauce recipe.”

Erika had difficulty moving away from Dillon. She so liked being with him, sitting close, feeling as if they belonged together. But she crossed the room and stopped to talk to Kayla, to make sure she didn't mind playing with Emilia. The two little girls seemed to be having a good time so Erika went to the kitchen. When she stole a last glance at Dillon, he was watching two-year-old
Max with his dad. Was he sad? Was he remembering Toby? Would he consider being a dad again?

In the kitchen, Erika was struck by the beauty of the granite counters and island, the white cupboards hand-painted with a flower pattern that had the flair of Allaire's strokes. “What can I do to help?” she asked Allaire.

D.J.'s wife was garnishing a tray of celery and carrot sticks with cherry tomatoes. “I think we're good. It's not quite time to boil the potatoes. I just put the meat loaves in the oven. D.J. said not to touch his wings in the slow cooker.”

Erika smiled and slipped onto one of the high bar stools at the island.

Allaire slid the tray of vegetables into the large, side-by-side refrigerator. Then she asked Erika, “Iced tea?”

“That sounds good.”

Allaire poured them two glasses and sat at the island with her. “I'm glad Dillon brought you here this weekend.”

Erika tilted her head and waited.

Allaire's beautiful blue eyes were kind as she said, “Dillon needs someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

Allaire looked a bit flustered. “I pretty much say what I think. Is that all right with you?”

“Yes, it is. I'd much rather know what a person's thinking than guess.”

“Good. That's the way I feel. So when I said a person like you, I meant a woman who has it all together, who's very attractive, but who also has a child.”

“I don't think he wants to be around children.”

Allaire smiled. “I'm not sure about that. Dillon's
daddy material and deep down, he knows it. He's been running from relationships and putting all of his energy into his practice as an escape. I think he's sidestepped real involvement.”

She took a swallow of her tea then went on. “I noticed he's good with Emilia. And Emilia seems to gravitate toward him. That's what he needs to bring him back to life.”

“But he'll be leaving in a couple of weeks.”

“Will he?” Allaire asked.

What did Allaire mean—
was
there a chance Dillon would stay on in Montana? Was there a chance he'd ask her to go back to Texas with him? Should she even consider such a huge life change for a man? She'd never known a man who was worthy of that kind of risk, especially one who wasn't sure he wanted a real family again.

All of the questions swirled in her head until she couldn't seem to clear it.

Suddenly she needed an escape for a little while, but not before she found out something she needed to know. “I went through a lot of scandal as a pregnant single mom, and choosing a man who didn't want to be a dad. Dillon seemed to think you'd understand that.”

“Oh, I understand. Talk about scandal. I was the perfect daughter and the perfect wife…until I wasn't. My marriage to Dax just didn't work out, and the end of our relationship was food for the rumor mill. When I hooked up with D.J. again, tongues wagged. In fact, they could have torn me and D.J. apart, but we didn't let them. Gossip runs rampant in a town like Thunder Canyon. You've just got to walk away from it and hope that soon they start gossiping about something else.”

Walk away from it. That was a good way to put it.
“I've never been on a ranch before. Is it all right if I take a walk down to the barn and check out your horses?”

“Sure. I'll keep an eye on Emilia for you.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it. I won't be long.”

She just needed some fresh air to put everything she'd seen and heard into some kind of perspective.

The huge red barn was foreign territory to her. But she loved the big sky and lots-of-land feel of the place. The fresh air, the aspens and oaks, the fir groves here and there, along with the scent of sage, the cooking smells wafting outside and the sound of horses cavorting in pens urged her to feel free. She could see how after living out here on a place like this, town could seem constricted.

Yet she also knew it wasn't merely a place that could make her constricted or free, but rather the life she chose for herself and the way she felt about it.

Erika heard the thump of Dillon's boots before she saw him. His ribs were healing and not affecting his daily life. He looked like a down-home cowboy today in his snap-button shirt, jeans and boots that appeared as if they'd seen some work. He'd worn a Stetson when he'd picked her up and she'd smiled. She'd asked if he'd bought it just for today. He'd laughed in return, and said, “No, it's mine. I just don't wear it much when I'm treating patients.”

That had been another moment when Erika had realized she didn't know everything about Dillon. She probably didn't even know half.

“Do you want to go inside?” he asked, seeing her at the side door to the barn. “A few horses are already inside for the night.”

“Oh, I don't know…”

“Afraid?” he asked with a sly grin.

“I'm not afraid of anything.” Her shoulders went back and her chin came up. But when she stared into Dillon's eyes, she knew what she'd said wasn't true. She was still afraid of him, and what he could do to her heart.

“Come on, then,” he invited, opening a huge door and letting her precede him inside.

The inside of the barn was cavernous and dark, yet the sounds of the horses huffing and pawing gave the place a homey feel.

After Dillon flipped on the lights, she noticed two rows of stalls faced each other. He stopped before a paint pony. “Did you come down here to get away from the crowd, or because something's bothering you?”

“Maybe a little of both. I don't have much family, just Mom and Emilia, so being with yours is a bit overwhelming. Enjoyable though,” she added.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Being with everyone encouraged me to think about how I grew up…without an extended family…without a dad.”

She studied the horse, tentatively stretched her hand out to him. He nosed at her fingers and she smiled. “After my father left and I didn't hear from him again, I thought I'd done something wrong, that he didn't love me and he never could.”

Dillon leaned against the stall and his gaze lingered on hers. “Do you realize now it wasn't your fault?”

“On my good days.”

When she didn't say more for a while, Dillon admitted, “When my stepfather came on the scene, I wanted my real dad back. The missing was already deep and dark and cutting. When Peter was around, it just seemed worse. My dad dying, and then my mom marrying Peter…that was all my first experience with something
I couldn't change and I became even more determined to change what I could. I guess that was another reason I wanted to be a doctor. Yet with Toby's illness, I learned again I didn't have control of much.”

“We all like to think we have control over our lives…that we can protect loved ones.”

They seemed to turn to each other simultaneously in understanding. She looked into Dillon's eyes and found him gazing into hers. They were both searching. For answers? For reassurance? For desire that was undercutting any and all emotions but the need to be kissing each other…touching each other?

Taking Erika's hand, Dillon tugged her a little way down the aisle into a vacant stall. They stepped inside onto the clean hay. Dillon pushed his fingers through her hair and held her face in his hands.

The hushed peace of the barn surrounded them, broken the next moment by a horse snorting, then a breeze blowing against a loose windowpane. The resounding awareness that they were a man and a woman, alone in a private place, surrounded them. The bond between them was growing, and so was their attraction.

Erika saw the desire in Dillon's eyes before he acted on it. His intention became hers. As he bent his head, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Each time Dillon kissed her, she expected—hoped—part of her heart would remain immune. She'd been hurt and she had a wide scar. She'd never expected to feel anything there again. But Dillon was changing all that, not only with his kisses, but his words, his actions. She knew she shouldn't let her guard down. She knew she should run in the opposite direction. But right now, with Dillon's hands in her hair, his lips on hers, she didn't want to be anywhere but in his arms.