Mountain Ambush

“Spence, you live alone out in the country,” Ruth said. “If I send you home without MRI results and it’s worse than a mild concussion and you lose consciousness, I’d never forgive myself. Please don’t fight me on this,” she said with pleading brown eyes.

Ruth and her husband, Cal, both in their fifties, had been gracious to Spence when he moved to town, having him over for dinner a number of times and treating him like family.

“Sorry,” he said. “I guess I’m proof that doctors make horrible patients.”

Relief eased across Ruth’s face. “Good, now that that’s settled, take the sedative so you can relax for the MRI. It’s very mild.”

If he was his own patient he’d be following Ruth’s protocol without question. He swallowed the pill and sipped water to wash it down.

“They’ll be up shortly to take you to imaging.” Ruth glanced at Maddie. “Are you staying?”

“Until my ride shows up.”

“You mean Rocky?”

“No, my cousin Bree.”

“Oh, I thought your boyfriend would pick you up.”

“My boyfriend?”

“I assumed you and Rocky were a couple, but kept it quiet because of work policy.”

Spence noted Maddie’s confused expression. Not guilty for putting her job at risk by dating a fellow employee, but she seemed confused by the question as if the thought of dating Rocky had never crossed her mind.

“Rocky and I are good friends, that’s all,” Maddie said.

Ruth nodded, but didn’t look convinced. “Well, it’s nice of you to stay with Spence. I didn’t realize you two were friends.”

“We’re not, but she saved me,” Spence said.

“Saved you?” Ruth said.

“Maddie showed up and distracted the guy from throwing me down the mountain.”

“Oh dear.” Ruth glanced at Maddie. “You are certainly a brave young woman.”

Maddie shrugged.

“That must have been terrifying,” Ruth said.

“It all happened pretty fast.”

Ruth turned to Spence. “Who attacked you?”

“I don’t know. He was wearing a mask.”

Ruth’s pager buzzed and she glanced at it. “I’ve gotta run. I’ll check in later.”

“Thanks,” Spence said.

Ruth left the room and Spence gazed out the window into the dark night.

It was clear that Maddie was hanging around because she felt sorry for him. After all, Spence had no family, no dutiful wife. Not that the women in town hadn’t auditioned for that role many times during the past year. He’d never step into that bottomless pit again.

Never trust a woman with his heart.

If he eventually considered marriage, it would be a partnership of familial obligation, not romantic love. Was there a woman out there who’d be open to such a life? It would be nice to share a home-cooked meal and conversation with someone, and he’d enjoy having a travel buddy, someone who liked to hike as much as he did. His guy friends were great, but they had other commitments—Nate with his job as police chief and new romance with Cassie McBride; and Aiden, who managed a resort and a relationship with his concierge, Nia Sharpe.

Deep down, Spence knew true love was an illusion. His parents had split only a few years after Bobby’s death, and his own fiancée’s betrayal had nearly destroyed him. Yet there were days when the thought of a solitary life spiked melancholy through his chest.

“Five bucks for your thoughts.”

He snapped his attention to Maddie. “What?”

“You were far, far away.” She frowned and raised three fingers. “How many fingers do I have up?”

“Knock it off. I’m fine.”

“So you keep saying.” She slid a long strand of copper-streaked auburn hair behind her ear. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not being totally honest with Dr. Carver?”

“You’re accusing me of what, exactly?”

“Wanting to get out of here sooner than later. I get it, I do. I was hospitalized for a migraine last year.” She shuddered. “The experience made me more compassionate with my patients, that’s for sure.”

More compassionate? She’d always seemed to have a gentle and consoling way with patients whenever she wheeled them into his ER.

“You need to be straight with Dr. Carver so she can help you. That’s what you always tell your patients, right?”

“Sure. Thanks for the advice,” Spence said, wanting to shut down this topic of discussion. “You really don’t need to hang around.”

A flash of hurt sparked in her green eyes. He hadn’t meant for that to happen. The concussion was obviously making him irritable. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she spoke first.

“My ride isn’t here and I’d rather not hang out in the lobby to be interrogated by fans wanting an update on Dr. Dreamboat.” She redirected her attention to her phone.

“Dr. Dreamboat?”

“You know they call you that,” she muttered.

“I didn’t—”

“Hi, Dr. Spencer.” Oscar Burke, a twentysomething orderly pushed a wheelchair into the room. “What are you doing here, Maddie?”

She didn’t look up from her phone. “Waiting.”

“For what?”

“The ski lift.”