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This Kiss. Teresa SouthwickЧитать онлайн книгу.

This Kiss - Teresa  Southwick


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involved, she was much more comfortable discussing physics than bodies and searched for a way to go back there.

      “The fact remains, I prefer to have both feet planted firmly on the ground. That way a horse can’t put me in motion for the hard ground to finish me off.”

      “That’s true,” he agreed. “But it’s a real shame to let one fall stop you. Nothing compares to the exhilaration of riding.”

      This was just dandy. After ten years she’d finally gotten his attention and they were talking—about her deficiencies. “Surely you have better things to do than baby-sit me.”

      “Actually turnabout is fair play. Thanks to you I managed to get through high school physics and into college. The least I can do is teach you how to ride.”

      “Believe it or not, I’ve gotten by quite nicely without knowing. There isn’t a lot of opportunity to climb on a horse in Los Angeles. Not to mention that there are safer ways to get where you’re going.”

      While they’d been bantering, another cowboy had entered the corral leading a saddled horse. From the corner of her eye, Hannah had noticed him climb up on the animal’s back and registered the clip-clop of hooves as he walked him around. Suddenly, the horse reared, startling the rider who lost his grip and fell with a grunt into the dust.

      When the cowboy grabbed his shoulder with a groan and didn’t get up, Dev’s relaxed posture disappeared as he instantly went into action. He quickly opened the corral gate and Hannah followed right behind. They ran to the man’s side and knelt down beside him in the dust.

      “What happened, Newy?”

      “Something spooked him. Caught me off guard—” He stopped and sucked in a breath as his leathery face tensed with pain. “Mean, ornery, lazy cuss. That dang horse just trotted easy as you please right back in the barn,” the man said through gritted teeth. His sweat-stained hat lay beside him and his thin brown hair stood up in tufts on his head.

      “Is it the same shoulder? Dislocated?” Dev asked. The man’s pale blue eyes met his boss’s as he nodded then groaned.

      “Are you sure it’s not broken?” Hannah asked.

      The cowboy shook his head. “Happened before,” he grunted. “If I hit it just right—” he stopped and clamped his teeth against the agony “—it goes out on me.”

      “The integrity is compromised,” Hannah diagnosed, knowing the original trauma rendered the joint more vulnerable.

      “Dang horse hasn’t got integrity,” he protested, then grimaced in pain as he held the injured shoulder while he rocked from side to side.

      “Dang physics,” she said, meeting Dev’s worried gaze. “That pesky hard ground has a way of acting on a body that isn’t pleasant.” She looked at the injured cowboy. “Do you mind if I have a look at it?” she asked.

      When skepticism lasered through the man’s discomfort, Dev said, “Newy Tubbs, this is Hannah Morgan—Dr. Hannah Morgan.”

      “Lady doc?” The cowboy met his boss’s gaze. “I don’t know—”

      Hannah tried to decide what his prejudice was—that she was a woman, or hardly looked older than a high school senior. It wouldn’t be the first time for either.

      Dev lifted his hat and ran his hand through short brown hair before replacing it. “We can load you up in the truck and bounce over every rut and pothole between here and Doc Holloway’s office in Destiny. Or Hannah can—”

      “Have a look-see,” he clarified reluctantly. “Okay.”

      Must be one rough ride, she thought, surprised he’d given in so easily. Dev moved aside to give her room. Hannah gently probed the man’s injured shoulder and the protrusion that told her it wasn’t broken. “It’s dislocated, all right. A first-year med student could make the diagnosis.”

      “Guess we’ll have to take you in to see the doc after all,” Dev said.

      “Excuse me. Didn’t we just establish that I’m a doctor?” She met Dev’s gaze. “Unless, of course you’d rather torture this poor man with a trip into town? If not, I can take care of him right here.”

      Newy appraised her doubtfully. “Little bitty thing like you?”

      “He’s right,” Dev interjected. “Doc’s done this before. I’ll go get the truck and—”

      “Doesn’t take strength, just leverage,” she assured the injured man. “What have you got to lose by letting me try? Unless you’re afraid of a little pain,” she challenged, looking at her patient. “But then, it’s gonna hurt like hell anyway on the trip into Destiny, and for a whole lot longer.”

      He glanced at his boss, then back at her and nodded reluctantly. “Go ahead.”

      Hannah nodded, then gripped his wrist and upper arm. “This is going to hurt a bit,” she said, bracing herself. “But I guess you already know that if it’s happened before.”

      As he nodded, she gave a quick tug on his arm. He bit back a yell and groaned. Then he looked at her, obviously surprised. “By golly, I think that’s got it. The pain’s lettin’ up.”

      She sat back on her heels. “That’s what happens when it’s where it should be.” Without looking away from her patient, she snapped an order. “Have you got something for a sling? That arm needs to be immobilized.”

      Newy shook his head. “No need, ma’am. There’s a first-aid kit in the barn. Wade’s workin’ over yonder and he’s wrapped me up before.” Dev helped him to his feet and the cowboy looked down at her as he cradled the injured arm to his chest. “Much obliged, ma’am, I mean Doc,” he said with a wan smile.

      “You’re welcome.”

      She stood beside Dev and watched the cowboy walk to the barn. Then the rancher met her gaze. “Much obliged.”

      “Don’t mention it.” She covered her eyes to shade them from the sun and smiled up at him, glad that he’d seen her as competent and not just a yellow-bellied coward who was afraid of horses.

      He folded his arms over his chest. “What can I do to thank you?”

      “There’s no need. It’s what I’m trained to do.”

      Before he could respond further, the sound of running feet caught their attention. Hannah turned and saw a pint-sized cowboy hurrying as fast as his little legs could go. On his heels and trying to keep up was her mother.

      “Hi, Daddy,” the little guy yelled when he was still a few yards away.

      “Ben,” Dev called back.

      He took her elbow to guide her from the corral. Hannah fought the urge to yank her arm away from the sizzle that swept over her shoulder and down into her breasts. Pulling back would show weakness. And if there’s one thing being the youngest in her class through college and med school had taught her, it was to never let anyone see that you weren’t completely in control.

      So she let him guide her out and watched him latch the gate, the muscles in his back rippling beneath his fitted cotton shirt. She swallowed the sound of female appreciation that rose in her throat, but the corresponding flutter in her stomach gave her trouble. It was as if she was plummeting down the longest drop on a roller coaster. She struggled for a facade of sophistication and polite, but cool interest, because inside she was ga-ga and hot enough to melt diamonds.

      She watched Dev watch his son run toward him. The man’s lean, strong, muscular body tensed and somehow she knew he was bracing for impact. Several moments later, the little guy hurtled into the strong arms waiting for him. Dev held the boy close for a moment, then unselfconsciously kissed his cheek while he settled his son on his forearm and ruffled his brown hair.

      “Hey, squirt,” he said. “Did you and Polly have fun?”

      The


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