A Marriage In Wyoming

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A Marriage In Wyoming
Lynnette Kent

A COWBOY’S FAITHRancher Garrett Marshall’s life revolves around the Circle M, his work as a minister and his camp for at-risk kids. Until Dr. Rachel Vale comes to town. There’s an instant and powerful attraction between Garrett and the beautiful doctor…one he’s convinced could lead to something wonderful.Rachel can’t fall for the cowboy minister, no matter how kind and ruggedly handsome he may be. His whole life is rooted in faith, and her world is guided by facts. One fact she can’t deny—she’s falling for Garrett anyway. Will Rachel keep her distance, or will she finally let her heart lead her home?

In July 2016, the MILLS & BOON® AMERICAN ROMANCE® series will become the MILLS & BOON® WESTERN ROMANCE series. Same great stories, new name!

A COWBOY’S FAITH

Rancher Garrett Marshall’s life revolves around the Circle M, his work as a minister and his camp for at-risk kids. Until Dr. Rachel Vale comes to town. There’s an instant and powerful attraction between Garrett and the beautiful doctor…one he’s convinced could lead to something wonderful.

Rachel can’t fall for the cowboy minister, no matter how kind and ruggedly handsome he may be. His whole life is rooted in faith, and her world is guided by facts. One fact she can’t deny—she’s falling for Garrett anyway. Will Rachel keep her distance, or will she finally let her heart lead her home?

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty special, Rachel.”

He could see her defenses spring up. “You shouldn’t say that.”

“Of course I should. It’s true.”

“We agreed to keep things professional.”

“I’m really starting to hate that word.” He tried to rein in his frustration. “Ignoring what’s between us won’t make it disappear.”

Her blue gaze turned fierce. “Yes, it will.”

Around them, the house was still and quiet. Reaching out, he took Rachel’s hands in his. “So you’re just going to pretend you don’t feel anything when my fingers touch yours.” He linked their fingers and pressed their palms together.

“That’s right.” But she swallowed hard.

“And it wouldn’t make any difference if I stroked your hair.” He let go of her left hand and skimmed his fingers lightly over the smooth strands above her ear.

“No.” Her fingers twitched in his grasp.

“So a simple kiss wouldn’t matter at all.”

She drew a deep breath. “Of course not.”

“Okay, then.” He leaned forward and set his lips against hers…

Dear Reader (#ulink_9eceb571-f7db-547c-8b2b-58c3a5cabb63),

While my husband served in the Navy, we lived in six different cities, and we moved to yet another location when he retired. Each move posed challenges—learning where to shop and how to get to school, finding piano teachers and the best place for pizza. Most important, we would be seeking new friends and discovering how our family could fit into the local community. You never really feel at home until you’ve established your special crowd, your “tribe.”

The Marshall brothers have lived in Bisons Creek, Wyoming, all their lives. So when Dr. Rachel Vale comes to town to set up a medical clinic, Garrett Marshall makes it his mission to help her feel comfortable in her new setting. Local opinion holds that the doctor and the minister are a perfect match, and Garrett is inclined to agree. But Rachel isn’t so easily persuaded, and past experience has left her wary of romantic complications. As a medical emergency at the Circle M Ranch brings them together, Garrett must find a way to convince this cautious woman that he can be trusted—with the safety of her patients and with her heart.

Mail from readers is always a delight. Feel free to contact me at my website, lynnettekentbooks.com (http://www.lynnettekentbooks.com), or at PO Box 204, Vass, North Carolina 28394.

Lynnette Kent

A Marriage in Wyoming

Lynnette Kent

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

A child of the North Carolina mountains, LYNNETTE KENT seems destined to find herself living anywhere but the mountains. Her family moved to Florida when she was nine, inspiring her with a lifelong love of the ocean and a long day spent at the beach. After marrying a graduate of the US Naval Academy, she moved with him to Tennessee while he attended medical school and from there to Virginia, California and Washington, DC.

Now settled in southeastern North Carolina, Lynnette tries to remember that mountain flowers don’t grow well in the heat of a Sandhills summer, that fall isn’t an abrupt change of season but a gentle, lingering evolution, and that winter without snow can be…well, endured. With her two daughters married and on their own, she practices her nurturing skills with the six horses and five dogs on her farm. When she’s not immersed in writing a book, or reading one, she mows grass, moves hay and fights a never-ending battle with weeds.

Contents

Cover (#u47cdd3a5-939a-5554-9f97-f2ea53bc86c5)

Back Cover Text (#u8849ada7-7bd2-5ac4-804e-65bbcd41cf2c)

Introduction (#u01852ff2-9cfc-5030-95bb-f06109430e47)

Dear Reader (#u2aa9e954-d491-5718-a519-17e79dda78a9)

Title Page (#u75347529-4e38-553d-b1dd-194be7033069)

About the Author (#u1e394cfd-fb51-59c4-8311-bc087cbc85d0)

Chapter One (#u39fc912a-d5af-5561-abef-0dc378d53412)

Chapter Two (#u09a8da32-2c6c-5906-a3d1-edc3ce310914)

Chapter Three (#ua6b90d8d-74cc-5918-8a2f-49f43fa2b5fd)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One (#ulink_4e6b8176-5d5a-56ed-b079-e7900c07a952)

Funny how a day could change so quickly.

One moment Garrett Marshall was enjoying a beautiful Monday morning in July. He was putting the finishing touch on the converted building that would now house the new medical clinic for the little town of Bisons Creek—a hand-carved and painted sign created by his artist brother, Dylan, announcing the medical practice of Dr. Rachel Vale. Garrett measured the sign and the space, calculating exactly where the hangers should go. Then he took his hammer and the first nail, cocked his wrist...

And slammed the face of the hammer directly onto his thumb.

“Damnation!” The hammer clanked to the floor of the porch as Garrett swore. Sucking on the injured finger, he glanced around to see if anybody had heard him. According to his congregation, ministers didn’t use such words, except in their sermons about the rewards of sin. Garrett didn’t want to shatter their illusions if he could help it.

Luckily, no one had been within earshot, but as he bent to pick up the hammer, a dusty green SUV pulled up to the curb in front of the clinic and stopped. The driver came around the hood of the vehicle to survey the building. “There’s no sign,” she called. “How will people find the place?”

“I’m working on it,” Garrett called back. “Give me two minutes.” Aware that he was being watched, he picked up the hammer he’d dropped and blew out a breath. “Focus...”

He didn’t hit his thumb again, though it took a few extra taps to get the first hanger firmly seated. The second went in with a little more finesse. Then he picked up the sign and hung it on the wall. “There you go.”

When he turned, he found the woman standing on the porch with him—and the close-up view took his breath away. Bright blue eyes and rosy lips, long hair in a shade of red he labeled russet, creamy skin and a curvy figure accentuated by a T-shirt and shorts...it all added up to perfection, as far as Garrett was concerned.

“It’s a nice sign,” she said, “but I’m not sure it will be visible from the street.”

She was also, he gathered, rather picky. “There will be a bigger, freestanding sign in the yard for the Bisons Creek Medical Clinic. It’s not quite finished.”

“That sounds great.” Smiling, she extended a hand. “I’m Rachel Vale.”

“Garrett Marshall.” Taking off his hat, he held her right hand in his and squeezed, but then couldn’t prevent a wince.

Her warm smile became a worried frown. “What’s wrong?”

“I hammered my thumb just before you arrived. Don’t worry—”

“Your right thumb?” She brought his hand closer to her face. “Are you left-handed?”

“I am, as a matter of fact.” He was also flushing in embarrassment at this point.

Dr. Vale hadn’t noticed, her attention being concentrated on his thumb. Her fingers were cool and gentle on his skin, and very clean. As she bent her head, he caught the crisp herbal scent of her shampoo. Unobtrusively, he drew in a deeper breath. Very nice.

“Has the pain diminished since it happened?”

“Yes, definitely diminished. I’m fine, really. Just feeling stupid.” Nothing like looking clumsy in front of a gorgeous professional woman. He might be a pastor, but he had his pride.

“It’ll be bruised.” She released his hand. “Ice would be a good idea. I’d offer some, but I have no idea if I even have any ice.”

“I’m okay,” Garrett assured her. Her touch seemed to linger on his skin. “Shall I let you inside? Or do you have the keys?”

“The mayor sent me a set,” she said, pulling a key ring out of her back pocket. “Let’s see how this works.” With a couple of quick twists of her wrist, the door swung open. “Ta-da! My own clinic.” She nodded toward the interior. “Want to share my first tour?”

For another smile, he’d hang around all day. “My pleasure.” He followed her into the waiting room, where a pass-through window opened into the receptionist’s office. “This building used to be a general store,” he said as she surveyed the space. “It had been empty for years but wasn’t too hard to clean up and renovate into what you needed. Mostly a matter of putting up walls and doors, dropping the ceiling and laying new vinyl over the concrete.”

“That all sounds pretty labor-intensive to me. I like the light gray walls and charcoal floor. Very soothing.” She went through the door patients would use into the back hallway, where there were two examining rooms, a laboratory and an office. “You’ve made a big effort.”

“We’re pretty excited to have a medical clinic. Driving to Kaycee or Casper isn’t an easy option for some folks.”

The doctor nodded as she peeked behind cabinet doors, opened drawers and examined the boxes of equipment stacked on the counter. “I grew up in a small town, with no local doctor and a mother who had health issues. Getting to and from her appointments could take up most of a day. And as a doctor, I’ve experienced firsthand how beneficial it is for patients in an isolated community to have accessible health care. Problems can be handled relatively easily in the office rather than exacerbated by patients’ reluctance to make a long drive, especially the elderly. It’s one of the issues I specifically want to address in my career.”

Talk about commitment! Garrett thought she might be too good to be true. “I’m glad to hear that. We have our share of older folks in Bisons Creek.” He followed her down the hallway. “I understand your training is in family medicine?”

“At the University of Washington, in Seattle. I’ve also worked in small towns in Idaho and Montana.” She stood at the door to the office. “But never with an office this nice. There’s even a desk and an armchair and carpet, as if this were a real doctor’s study. Next I’ll be thinking I’m a real doctor.”

“That’s what we’re hoping anyway.”

“I do have certificates,” she said, grinning at him. “I can fake it pretty well.”

“I won’t tell.” He returned the grin with one of his own. Her bright blue gaze held his and there was a second when he could have sworn he felt the click of a connection between them.

Then she looked away and gestured at a cluster of boxes on the floor. “I’m glad my professional books arrived. I didn’t have room for everything in the car. I’ll have to buy some bookcases to put them on.”

“Having carried them in here, I can say you’d better get heavy-duty shelves. Each of those boxes weighs a ton.”

“And they cost a fortune to mail. I hope I don’t have to ship them again for a long, long time.”

“I like the sound of that. You’re welcome for as long as you want to stay.”

“Thanks.” She crossed the hall to the lab area. The equipment she’d ordered was already in place. “Functional and efficient—just what I asked for. And there’s a room set aside for the X-ray machine, right? I’m hoping that will be my first big purchase.”

“Right here.” Garrett opened the door to show her the windowless space. “We built it to the dimensions you gave us.”

Eyes shining, she spread her arms wide. “Everything I could ask for. You’ve done a terrific job.”

He held up a hand in protest. “I can’t take too much credit. The whole town worked together on raising funds to restore the building.”

“But you must be the town carpenter, right?”

“Um, no. Kimble Construction did most of the real work. I’m the minister at Bisons Creek Church. My brother built the sign and I said I’d hang it.”

“Oh.” Her glow of excitement seemed to dim. “Well...thank you for all your help.” She walked away, toward the front of the clinic. “I’ll let you get on with your day. I’m sure you have things to do.”

Following, Garrett felt dismissed. “We do have a friend in common, though. Caroline Donnelly, who recommended you for the job, is my brother Ford’s fiancée.”

In the waiting room, she faced him again. “You’re one of the Marshall brothers. Now I see.” She thawed slightly. “Caroline has talked a lot about all of you in her emails this summer. I understand you have a camp on your ranch for some of her at-risk kids.”

“We do. And I should be getting back to them right now. I just wanted to be sure you had a sign to welcome you to town.”

“I appreciate the effort. Really.” But her pretty face was empty of expression. The contagious enthusiasm of a few minutes before had vanished. She held the door open and actually waved him out. “Have a good one.”

“You, too.” Garrett found himself on the porch, the door firmly shut behind him. Staring at the panel, he couldn’t figure out what the heck had happened, why Rachel Vale’s attitude had changed so fast—from friendly and outgoing to almost hostile. He didn’t remember anything he’d said or done that accounted for the difference.

In fact, he’d been anticipating getting to know her better, maybe building up to the suggestion of a cup of coffee at the diner, or even some lunch. He’d been reflecting what a welcome addition to the Bisons Creek social scene she would be...