Cinderella and the Playboy / The Texan's Happily-Ever-After (20 page)

“Sure.”

They walked side by side down the hall. Shep was six inches taller than she was—a couple of inches taller than Clark. But where Clark had been husky, Shep was lean. Clark had worked out with weights to keep his body in prime condition for his job. But she had the feeling Shep McGraw's muscles came from his work on the ranch and at his lumberyard.

She shook her head to clear it from such insane thoughts. “Will your housekeeper be available this evening?”

Shep arched a brow at Raina.

“I just wondered if she'll be helping to care for Manuel tonight.”

“More than likely she'll keep Roy and Joey busy so that I can take care of Manuel. Eva often jokes that I moved from laid-back California to Wild West Texas never expecting life to be as unpredictable as it has been. But I don't regret one day of it and I don't think she does, either. I'll show her anything you show me, in case she needs to know.”

“Is she…older?” Raina asked, telling herself she needed the information for purely professional reasons.

“Don't let
her
hear you say she's older,” he joked, with a wry smile. It was a crooked smile that made Raina's pulse beat just a little faster. “She's in her fifties,” he went on, “but won't say exactly
where
in her fifties.”

Raina chuckled. “She sounds like a woman after my own heart. We should never have to divulge our age.”

“Let me guess,” Shep said. “You're thirty-seven.”

“How did you—?”

“Gotcha,” he teased. “I have a friend who's a doc in Santa Fe. I know how long med school took him. And you started practicing here after your residency, right?”

“A year and a half ago,” she confirmed with a nod.

“That's about when Joey and Roy came to live with me.”

“And Manuel joined you six months ago.”

“That's right. It's been a roller-coaster ride.”

She laughed. “You're a brave man, Shep McGraw, taking in three boys and having the confidence to raise them.”

“Confidence or insanity,” he muttered.

She laughed again.

They reached a door with big black letters—Authorized Admittance Only. Raina opened the door and let Shep inside. He spotted Manuel right away and made a beeline for him, Raina hurrying to catch up. She glanced at the monitors, then asked the nurse at Manuel's side, “How's he doing?”

“He's doing great.”

Shep caught a stray stool with the toe of his boot and dragged it to Manuel's bedside. He sank down on it and took the little boy's hand. “How are you doing, kiddo? There's nothing to worry about now. I'm here and we're going home soon.”

“Home?” Manuel repeated, his eyes still a little unfocused.

“Yep, home. Joey and Roy and Eva are waiting for us.”

Raina went to a side counter, picking up a sheaf of papers. She brought them over to Shep, then went over the instructions for giving Manuel the eardrops, as well
as changing the cotton in his ears. “Everything's explained here. If he runs a fever or if anything seems out of the ordinary, call me immediately. My service can page me.”

Shep's attention shifted from her to his son in the bed. His gaze ran over Manuel—from the little gown he was wearing to the cotton in his ears.

Shep was quiet for a moment, then he swiveled around on the stool to face her. “Are you done here for the day?”

“Yes, I'm off to run some errands. But as I said, my service can always contact me.”

“How would you like to do something a little more exciting than running errands?”

“And what would that be?” She was really curious.

“How would you like to come to the Red Creek Ranch and get a taste of just how wild the West can be?”

R
aina was stunned by Shep's invitation.

“Why do you want me to come to the ranch?”

For a moment, he looked as if he was going to clam up, pull down the brim of his Stetson and walk away. But then he gave a small shrug, stood, lodged his hands in his back pockets and studied her. “You're a no-nonsense kind of woman, aren't you?”

“Does that require an answer?”

“No,” he drawled, with a lazy Texas slowness that made her stomach jump. Then he became more serious. “After what you've been through, I imagine you don't have time for crap. Life's short, and you know it.”

No one had ever approached the subject of her widowhood quite like this before. She was even more intrigued by this man who had been getting under her skin
a little every time he had an office visit with one of his kids. “That's one way of putting it,” she admitted wryly.

Sliding his hands out of his pockets, he dropped them to his sides. “The truth is.” He hesitated and then said, “I like you and I trust you. Manuel had an operation and anesthesia. The hospital is sending him home just an hour afterward. That doesn't sit comfortably with me. On top of that, I need to do some things, like the drops and all, and I don't want to make a mistake. I'll be glad to pay for your time. I'm not asking you to do this for free.”

He
liked
her. She decided not to focus on that. “So you'd consider this a house call?” If she looked at this in professional terms—

“Yeah, sort of. Maybe a little longer than a house call. After all, it's going to be suppertime soon. You could stay and eat with us.”

There was nothing obvious in the way Shep was looking at her, and yet…she was very aware he was a well-built man. From those silver sparks in his blue eyes, she had the feeling he appreciated who she was, white lab coat and all. This was the oddest situation she'd ever found herself in. Over the past nine years, she hadn't taken a second look at a man, and had always put up a shield or run quickly if one looked interested. Why wasn't she running now?

Because this was mainly about Manuel, she told herself.

“I don't usually make house calls.”

“Is it on your list of things you never wanted to do, or on your list of things you just never have done?”

In spite of herself, she had to laugh. Shep's sense of humor was one of his charms. Raina thought about the
Victorian where she lived. It would be empty tonight. She'd missed Gina Rigoletti the day she'd moved out to live with her fiancé at his estate. Gina's sister, Angie, had moved in with her last week. But as a pediatric nurse, she was working the night shift. And her friend Lily was away in Oklahoma with her recently deceased husband's family. Her husband had been killed in Afghanistan while serving his country.

Raina suddenly realized that at one time she'd craved solitude, but that wasn't the case now. After Clark died, her grief had gotten held up by everything surrounding September eleventh—the immensity of everyone's loss, the days of horrible nightmares, the government settlement. She'd watched way too much TV, unable to tear herself away from it, hoping to learn more…to see Clark's face
somewhere.
Grief had finally overtaken her the day she'd gone to Ground Zero, seen all the pictures posted and been overwhelmed with the realization that the man she loved was never coming home. Now, nine years later, she felt as if she'd finally found herself again. Returning to Sagebrush, being near her family, had helped her do that.

So here she was, with this rugged single dad asking her to his ranch. “Basically, you want my help with Manuel?” she asked Shep directly.

“Yes. I'll pay you outright. Insurance won't be involved.”

“You could hire a nurse, though I really don't think you need one.”

“First of all, I don't want a nurse. I want
you.”
The way he said it seemed to disconcert him a little. The muscle in his jaw jumped. But he went on anyway. “And
secondly, I have two other boys to think about. They're going to be worried about Manuel. I want to make sure they don't have anything to be afraid of by the time they go to bed tonight.”

Making a sudden decision—from sheer instinct—Raina said, “No need to pay me. Let me tell my housemate where I'll be. She's working upstairs. Then I'll come home with you for a little while, just to see how things are going.”

After an automatic last check of Manuel's monitors, a look into his adorable dark brown eyes, Raina left the recovery room, wondering what in the heck she was doing.

As Raina's hybrid followed Shep's shiny new blue crew-cab truck down the gravel lane, she thought about how absolutely different she was from the rancher. The types of vehicles they drove were only the tip of the iceberg. So why was she following him to his ranch as if.

As if she were attracted to the man?

She was here for Manuel's sake. That was the beginning and the end of it. Though she
was
curious how a single rancher managed to handle two rambunctious boys and a baby. Wasn't it part of her duty as a doctor to find out?

The beautifully maintained split-rail fencing lined the lane. Pecan trees and live oaks kept the road in shade. To the left she spotted horses, at least ten or twelve, and a new-looking lean-to that could shelter them from the weather. When she drove a little farther, she caught sight of a huge red barn with Red Creek Ranch painted in shiny black letters above the hayloft doors. On the right stood a spacious two-and-a-half-story
ranch house that looked as if it had been recently refurbished with tan siding and dark brown shutters. The wide, white wraparound porch appeared to be an addition to the original structure. A swing hung from its ceiling. She caught sight of curtains fluttering at the windows and was surprised to find herself thinking the house looked like a home.

To the left of the house, set back, a three-bay garage stood waiting. Shep headed for the parking area in front and she followed, her tires crunching on the stones as she parked beside him. Then she went to the back of his truck to help him with Manuel. The little boy was awake, but not altogether himself.

“He's usually yelling and screaming to be let out of his car seat by now.”

“Give him some time to get back to normal.”

As Shep reached for Manuel, the two-year-old began to cry. “What did I do?” Shep asked worriedly.

“Are you grumpy after you have a tooth drilled?”

“Sometimes,” Shep answered warily.

“Well, think about how Manuel must feel.”

To Shep's surprise, when he held Manuel in the crook of his arm and closed the back door of the truck, the little boy reached toward Raina.

“Do you think she can do a better job of making you feel better?” Shep asked, half serious, half joking.

Manuel stared at his dad for a few seconds, then reached for Raina again.

Shep shrugged. “Go ahead.”

“This has nothing to do with your ability to take care of him,” Raina assured him as she cuddled Manuel close and let the baby lay his head against her hair.

“There's a basic difference between men and women,” Shep decided. “That's what this is all about.”

“And that difference is?” Raina asked, not sure she wanted to know.

“Women are softer. Men are harder. It's a matter of comfort.”

Raina couldn't help but hide a smile as she followed Shep up the porch steps to the front door and into the house.

A ceiling fan hummed in the large living room and tempered the noise coming from beyond. Raina caught a glimpse of a colorful sofa, its covering stamped with rodeo cowboys and horses. Black wrought-iron lamps and comfortable-looking side chairs complemented the casual decor. Sand art on the wall appeared to be handcrafted, as did the mandala over the sofa and the blue pottery painted with gray wolves high on the bookcase. The big flat-screen TV was a focal point in the room.

Manuel tucked his face into her neck and she snuggled him closer. She liked the feel of a baby in her arms. Once she'd hoped a child would be a possibility. But so many possibilities had died on September eleventh, along with her husband.

At first, she'd thought about him twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Memories still popped up now and then without her summoning them. But time was taking its toll, and life went on, whether she grieved and remembered or not. Life had swept her along with it, and she'd stopped resisting its force, though a deep ache was always there.

As they neared the kitchen, loud boys' chatter turned into more of a shouting match. Six-year-old Roy and
eight-year-old Joey were coloring at a large rectangular pedestal table. But Joey was now drawing on Roy's picture, and in retaliation Roy was drawing on Joey's.

They were pointing fingers and making accusations while a woman in her fifties, with white-blond spiked hair and long dangling earrings stirred a pot on the stove and firmly called their names. “Roy. Joey. Stop squabbling. You don't want your dad to come in and hear you.”

“Dad's too busy to hear us,” Joey said defiantly, his dark brown eyes snapping in his mocha-skinned face.

Roy nudged his brother's shoulder. “Dad don't want us to fight.”

“We're not fighting,” Joey declared, making another mark on Roy's paper. “We're just drawing.”

“Drawing very loudly,” Shep admonished them as he stepped through the doorway into the kitchen. “Eva, shouldn't they be helping you get supper ready?”

“We did help her,” they both chimed in unison, running to him for a hug.

“Oh, I just bet you did.”

Suddenly Joey looked around Shep and saw Raina. “What are
you
doing here? Did she come to do something to Manuel or to me or Roy?”

Raina couldn't imagine what they thought she'd do. She'd examined Joey when he had a sinus infection, but that had been about the extent of it.

“Why is she carrying Manuel?” Joey wanted to know.

Raina suddenly wondered if any parent could answer all of the questions a child might ask in one day.

“Dr. Gibson came home with me to make sure Manuel feels okay,” Shep responded, and quickly introduced her to his housekeeper, who had kind, hazel eyes.