Marrying Dr Maverick

Dean sighed. “I guess you’d know after a couple of days?”

“My radar’s good, Dean. I know if I’m ‘safe’ around a man.”

“Woman’s intuition?” he asked with a cynical arched brow.

“Scoff if you want, but I believe in mine.”

It was probably woman’s intuition that had made her break off the relationship with Griff. Her instincts had told her he simply wasn’t the one. There hadn’t been enough passion, enough of those I-can’t-live-without-you feelings. Something important had been missing.

“Okay,” Dean conceded. “But be careful. I heard he’s a confirmed bachelor with good reason. If you fall for him, you’ll only get hurt.”

She couldn’t let this opportunity to find out information about Brooks pass her by. “Why is he a confirmed bachelor?”

After an assessing look that said he was telling her this for her own good, he kept his voice low. “He has a broken engagement in his history that cut him pretty deep. A wounded man is the worst kind to fall for. Watch your step, Jazzy, or you will get hurt. I don’t want to see that happen. Not on my watch.”

“I’m not your responsibility,” she said, frustrated, and stalked out.

Ten minutes later with rain pouring down faster now, she and Brooks sat in his truck again, headed toward Kalispell. Dean’s words still rang in her head. A wounded man is the worst kind to fall for. She wouldn’t fall for Brooks. She couldn’t. Besides, she didn’t fall easily. Her relationship with Griff was proof of that.

Still, as she surreptitiously eyed his strong profile, her stomach did a little somersault. To counteract the unsettling sensation, she remarked casually, “Progress is being made on the school, but it’s going so slow.”

“A ton of funds and a larger crew could fix that. But the way it is now, the elementary school teachers are going to be holding classes in their homes for a long while.”

“The town has come a long way since I first arrived, though.”

He nodded. “Yes, it has. The mayoral election next month should be interesting.”

“Collin Traub against Nate Crawford.”

“Yep. They butted heads trying to get the town back on its feet. Their families have a history of butting heads.”

“A feud?”

“Some people say so. I don’t know how it started. I don’t know if anybody remembers. But because of it, the election is even more heated.”

She wouldn’t ask him who he was voting for. That was really none of her business. But other things were. “How did your clinic in Kalispell take the news you’d be leaving?”

He didn’t answer right away, but when he did, he looked troubled. “I don’t want to leave them in the lurch, and I won’t. The other two vets in the practice understand why I have to do this. Family has to come first.”

Her parents had always instilled that belief in their children, too.

Two hours later, Jazzy was still thinking about Brooks’s broken engagement as well as everything she’d learned from the clinic’s office manager about the computer programs they used, advertising and a multitude of other elements she’d have to coordinate to set up his practice. The rain had continued to pour as Brooks and the office manager had filled Jazzy in on what her job would entail.

Jazzy had worn a windbreaker this morning in deference to the weather and now flipped up the red hood as she and Brooks ran to his truck. He’d gone to her side with her to give her a hand up to climb in, but that meant he’d gotten even damper from the rain.

Inside his truck, he took off his Stetson and brushed the raindrops outside before he closed the door. Then he tossed it into the backseat.

“Where’s your jacket today?” she asked.

“The same place yours was yesterday.”

His crooked half smile and the curve of his lips had her thinking of other things than setting up his office. An unbidden thought popped into her head. What would it feel like to be kissed by Brooks Smith?

No! She was not going there.

Brooks looked away and she was glad because she was afraid he might read her thoughts. As he started up the truck, she said, “You need a name for the practice.” It was the first thing that she could think of to say.

“I guess I can’t call it Smith’s Veterinary Practice, can I? That’s what my father uses. Any suggestions?”

“Not off the top of my head. Once you pick a location, we might choose something geared to that.”

“I like your ideas,” he said simply, and she felt a blush coming on because there was admiration in his voice. When was the last time someone told her they liked her ideas? At work, she just did what was pushed in front of her. Sure, she offered suggestions now and then, but nothing that really mattered. Brooks seemed to make everything matter.

The rain poured down in front of them like sheets that they could hardly see through. Brooks didn’t seem to be anxious about it, though. He drove as if he drove in this weather all the time, keeping a safe distance from whatever taillights blinked in front of them, making sure he didn’t drive through puddles that were growing deep.

They were well out of Kalispell when he asked, “So you think you can handle setting up the office? The printing for flyers and business cards and that type of thing will have to be done in Kalispell, but we can accomplish a lot of it through email. I know this is a big job—”

Was he having second thoughts about her abilities? “I can handle it,” she said with more assurance than she felt.

She must have sounded a little vehement because he cut her another glance. “I don’t want you to be overwhelmed. There’s a lot to think about. We can farm out the website design.”

“I can do it. I know I can, Brooks. I’ve taken night courses that I thought might be useful at the resort, and I’ve never gotten a chance to use a lot of what I learned, including web design and graphics. I even took a course in setting up a small business in case I ever get the chance to start up my rescue ranch. I’ve put my life on hold for too long. By helping you, I finally feel as if I’m moving forward.”

He was silent for a few moments, then asked, “Did you have other things on hold, other than your job?”

Was he fishing about her personal life? She could tell him about Griff—

And maybe she would have. But the water was moving fast along both shoulders of the road. As she thought about Brooks’s broken engagement, how she’d told Griff she couldn’t see a future for them, the truck suddenly dipped into a hole hidden under a puddle. The jarring jolt would have been bad enough, but a loud pop like a gun going off accompanied it.

Brooks swore and muttered, “I know that sound.”

Their blow-out caused the truck to spin on the back tire until they faced the wrong direction. The vehicle hydroplaned on another puddle and they ended up near the guard rail on the opposite side of the road.

It had all happened so fast, Jazzy almost felt stunned, like she’d been on some amusement-park ride that had gone amuck. Her brain was scrambled for a few seconds until she got her bearings and realized they were half on and half off the highway.

Brooks unsnapped his seat belt and moved closer to her. “Are you okay?”

“I think so.” Without conscious thought, she rubbed her shoulder. “We blew a tire?”

He nodded. “I’m going to have to change it.”

“Oh, Brooks. In this rain? I can call Cecelia or Dean.”

“There’s no need for that. I’ve changed tires before. I’ve gotten wet before. It won’t take long, Jazzy, once I get us set up right. Trust me.”

Trust him. Could she? She didn’t know if she could or not...yet. She’d be foolish if she trusted him on this short acquaintance. Yet she had seen enough to trust in his abilities, to trust that he’d do what he said he was going to do.

His gaze ran over her again. “Let me get us over to the shoulder on the right side of the road so I can take care of the tire.”