Rocky Mountain Reunion

“You’re new to Paradise. Let me warn you that the grapevine moves fast here. That’s why I also make it a rule never to let the line between my job and my personal life blur. It’s best to fly under the radar in this town.”

“Sounds like you have a lot of rules.”

Anne paused at his remark. Maybe she did. But the guidelines she’d set for herself had served her well as an unmarried woman living in a small town, and she didn’t plan to detour anytime soon.

They reached the open exam room and she stopped short and handed the chart to him.

Luke flipped it open, scanned the contents and then handed the chart back to her as he moved into the small room. “Mr. Clark?” he asked.

“Matt. You can call me Matt.”

“I’m Dr. Nelson and this is Ms. Matson.”

Anne’s head jerked back at the sound of Matthew Clark’s voice and the chart in her hands tumbled to the floor. Her gaze snapped toward the clear blue eyes of the man she had married nearly eleven years ago.

“Anne?” His eyes widened in turn as he stared at her.

Matthew Clark sat on the edge of the exam table in a bloodstained, torn and once-white polo shirt and jeans. His shirt bore the logo of First Construction Company on the left chest area.

The ice pack he held to his head pushed back short, dark blond hair. His left foot was shoeless and encased in a temporary inflatable splint; the right remained in a muddy steel-toed black work boot.

A bubble of air became trapped in Anne’s throat and she had to remember to breathe.

Matthew.

The years had only improved his boyish good looks. He looked the same, from the dimple on the right side of his mouth to the tiny scar on his chin. The same, yet somehow different. Matthew Clark was a man now.

He grimaced. Clearly the swelling and already colorful contusions on his face were painful.

“You two know each other?” Luke looked back and forth between the patient and her, stunned interest on his face.

“She’s my wife,” Matt said, his voice flat and void of emotion.

Luke’s brows shot up. “Your wife?”

“Ex. Ex-wife,” Anne sputtered.

Her words stretched out, filling the small room with a million unanswered questions.

When Anne stooped to pick up the scattered chart at her feet her stethoscope slid to the tiled floor. Resisting a groan, she draped the stethoscope around her neck once more and gathered the papers. She read the paramedic’s evaluation as she stood.

“How are you feeling?” Nelson asked his patient.

“I’ve been better,” Matt returned. “I didn’t think I needed that ambulance ride, but they insisted.”

“Always good to play on the side of caution.”

Anticipating the doctor’s needs, Anne tore open a sterile package of gloves, and offered them to him. Maybe if she focused on her job, her thoughts would stop spinning out of control.

“Thanks.” Nelson glanced at the hospital gown folded neatly and untouched next to Matt. “Ideally, we’d like you to change into that hospital gown.”

“Me? In that? Not happening in this lifetime.”

When a wicked smile curved his lips, Anne struggled not to laugh. Yes, the same old Matt. How had she forgotten his irreverent sense of humor?

The ER doc gave a thoughtful shake of his head. “We can work around it. I need to look at that scalp wound first.”

Matt lowered the ice pack from his head.

“Not too bad. A couple of sutures should do the trick.”

“You want to stitch my head?” He jerked back with surprise.

“Yes. These things bleed like crazy. Lots of superficial vessels in the scalp.”

“Do you have to shave my head?”

“No. Just trim a bit of hair near the wound. Won’t be obvious.”

“Looks like I have to trust you.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Nelson said, matching his patient’s humor.

“Go ahead and do what you have to do.”

“I’ll get a suture kit,” Anne said.

She exited the room and leaned against the wall. Matt. After all these years? Releasing a deep breath, she grabbed a sterile suture kit from the supply cart. It tumbled from her trembling hands. Scooping it up, she turned and ran smack into Marta.

“Whoa, careful. Is Nelson in there?”

“Yes. Room two.”

With a gentle hand on Anne’s shoulder, Marta peered closely. “Honey, are you okay? You look pale. Maybe you’re catching that bug that’s going around.”

“I’m fine.”

“Hmm. Well, can you tell Nelson that the family of the patient in exam room three wants to talk to him?”

Anne nodded, avoiding her friend’s gaze.

“You’re sure you’re all right,” Marta persisted, her eyes probing with concern.

“I’m good.” Of course she was good. As good as she could be after seeing the man she’d walked away from after they’d said, “I do.”

Anne pushed back into the exam room. “You’re wanted in three.”

“On my way.” Nelson turned to her. “Do you mind cleaning up that scalp wound? I’ll be right back to suture and then we can send him up to X-ray to assess that ankle.”