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Saving Dr. Ryan
Karen Templeton
Widowed and penniless, Maddie Kincaid was driving through the tiny town of Haven, Oklahoma, her two small children in tow, when her third child decided to make an appearance. She managed to find the only doctor within miles–Ryan Logan.The rugged, handsome M.D. assisted her delivery just fine. And then he made her an offer she couldn't refuse….Brooding loner–and incurable workaholic–Ryan had already seen one relationship go down the tubes, and he knew that home and hearth were not for him. No, his interest in–and offer to put up–the beautiful, courageous single mother was purely professional. He'd delivered her baby, after all. But could she heal his broken heart?
“I’d say you need me, Dr. Logan. You need me real bad.”
Ryan had never seen a pair of eyes that could manage to look so innocent and so not…at the same time.
And hiring Maddie Kincaid to be his assistant was a plan that made sense. On the surface.
But…
“I know what you’re thinking. You’re worried about us being together in the house for too long. That I might start getting ideas.”
“No, it’s not that.”
She half laughed, half sighed. He told himself that she was sitting too far away for him to feel her breath on his face. That the last thing he wanted was to feel her breath on his face.
She went on. “After what I’ve been through, marriage is the last thing on my mind. Trust me.”
He did.
Oh, hell. It wasn’t her he didn’t trust….
Dear Reader,
“In like a lion, out like a lamb.” That’s what they say about March, right? Well, there are no meek and mild lambs among this month’s Intimate Moments heroines, that’s for sure! In Saving Dr. Ryan, Karen Templeton begins a new miniseries, THE MEN OF MAYES COUNTY, while telling the story of a roadside delivery—yes, the baby kind—that leads to an improbable romance. Maddie Kincaid starts out looking like the one who needs saving, but it’s really Dr. Ryan Logan who’s in need of rescue.
We continue our trio of FAMILY SECRETS prequels with The Phoenix Encounter by Linda Castillo. Follow the secret-agent hero deep under cover—and watch as he rediscovers a love he’d thought was dead. But where do they go from there? Nina Bruhns tells a story of repentance, forgiveness and passion in Sins of the Father, while Eileen Wilks offers up tangled family ties and a seemingly insoluble dilemma in Midnight Choices. For Wendy Rosnau’s heroine, there’s only One Way Out as she chooses between being her lover’s mistress—or his wife. Finally, Jenna Mills’ heroine becomes The Perfect Target. She meets the seemingly perfect man, then has to decide whether he represents safety—or danger.
The excitement never flags—and there will be more next month, too. So don’t miss a single Silhouette Intimate Moments title, because this is the line where you’ll find the best and most exciting romance reading around.
Enjoy!
Leslie J. Wainger
Executive Senior Editor
Saving Dr. Ryan
Karen Templeton
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
KAREN TEMPLETON,
a Waldenbooks bestselling author and RITA
Award nominee, is the mother of five sons and living proof that romance and dirty diapers are not mutually exclusive terms. An Easterner transplanted to Albuquerque, New Mexico, she spends far too much time trying to coax her garden to yield roses and produce something resembling a lawn, all the while fantasizing about a weekend alone with her husband. Or at least an uninterrupted conversation.
She loves to hear from readers, who may reach her by writing c/o Silhouette Books, 300 E. 42nd St., New York, NY 10017, or online at www.karentempleton.com.
To country doctors everywhere, whose selflessness epitomizes the best in human nature.
Acknowledgments
To Oana Nisipeanu, M.D.,
who answered my medical “hows?”
to Kelli Garcia,
for giving me a virtual peek inside a small-town doctor’s office;
to Debrah Morris and Linda Goodnight,
for being my “tour guides”
to Northeastern Oklahoma and for making me fall in love with that part of the world, sight unseen;
to JoAnn Weatherly,
for answering my questions about geriatric hip fractures.
Any goofs are mine, not theirs.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Chapter 1
“Keep your shirt on! I’m coming, I’m coming…dammit!”
His big toe now throbbing, Ryan Logan continued down the dark stairs in his stockinged feet, all the while fumbling with the buttons to the flannel shirt he’d dragged on over his tee at the doorbell’s first shriek. He yawned so widely his jaw popped: he hadn’t gotten to bed but two hours ago, at three-thirty. Which meant his blood wasn’t yet moving fast enough to ward off the damp, late September chill that permeated the old house. Judging from the rain still battering the roof, there’d be no sunrise.
He’d no sooner plowed one hand through his hopeless hair when the bell blatted again. On a muttered curse, he yanked open the front door: the two little kids standing on the porch jumped a mile. Ryan’s heart twisted—the pipsqueaks were soaked through, the boy’s dark eyes glittering in terror and excitement underneath a fringe of scraggly bangs. Pale fingers gripped closed a stringless, nothing-colored hooded sweatshirt, his other hand hanging on for dear life to the shivering little blonde beside him. Ryan had never seen either of them before.
The boy stumbled backward a little, taking the girl with him. His eyes went wide and his mouth sagged open, but nothing came out. It dawned on Ryan how scary he must look.
“It’s okay, son,” he said, squatting down. Wasn’t anything he could do about the bed-head, but he could at least reduce his six-foot-two frame into something less intimidating. He lifted his voice just enough to be heard over the rain pummeling the porch overhang. “What is it?”
“You the doctor?”
“Sure am.”
The trembling child glanced back into the rain-drenched darkness, then at Ryan, still warily.
“Mama said to come.”
With a nod, Ryan leaned over to grab his boots off the mat by the door. He was wide-awake now: odd hour calls came with the territory when the closest hospital was forty-five minutes away.
Both floor and kids flinched when Ryan stomped his foot firmly inside the first boot. “Sorry,” he said, sparing them both a quick smile. The boy couldn’t have been more than five or six, his sister—Ryan assumed—maybe three or so.
“She said to hurry,” the boy said.
Ryan shoved on the other boot, grabbed his denim jacket off the stand by the front door and shrugged into it. “Where is your mama?” he asked, clamping his broad-brimmed hat on his head with one hand, snatching his black bag off the hall table with the other.
A beanpole arm flailed out. “D-down there. In the car.” The bright eyes glanced back at him over a chin quivering from both emotion and the raw autumn chill, Ryan guessed. “She said to tell you the b-baby’s comin’.”
Oh, Lord.
Ryan dropped the bag back on the table and pulled the dripping children inside. He took a precious moment to crouch in front of them again, gently squeezing the boy’s shoulder, smiling into the little girl’s huge, frightened eyes. “Stay right here,” he softly commanded, then bolted out into the driving rain before the boy had a chance to protest.
The steering wheel bit into Maddie Kincaid’s palms as she choked back a bitter scream. Despite the piercing, damp cold inside the old Impala, sweat drenched her flannel nightgown underneath her car coat. The pains had come on so sudden, her only thought had been to get out, get help. She hadn’t even bothered to put on socks—if she could’ve bent over to begin with—and now her feet felt like Popsicles inside her canvas slip-ons.
The pain crested, passed. On a deep, panicky sigh, she leaned her head on the back of the seat, determined not to cry, even though it was highly unlikely anybody’d hear her over the hammering rain and wind. She’d never meant to send Noah and Katie Grace out in the storm, but they’d been gone before she could stop them. At least she’d remembered seeing the office sign in front of the slightly dilapidated, two-story house when she’d passed it yesterday. Something to be grateful for, at least.
But—a blast of wind plastered another layer of leaves to the windshield—what if nobody was home? What if she had to deliver this baby herself, right here, and take care of two other children besides?
Something like a laugh tried to well up in her throat. Just when you think things can’t possibly get any worse…
“Oh, God, oh, God, oh God,” she whimpered, rolling her head back and forth, only to suck in a sharp breath when the next pain began clawing its way through her belly. Her labor with the first two had been nothing like this. Especially Noah’s. All that walking, trying to get things moving—
The scream escaped this time as fire blazed through her crotch. She tried to get on top of the contraction, to focus her breathing, as the searing pain obliterated everything but itself—
The car door flew open, sending chilled air and wet leaves swirling inside; a large male hand landed on her rock-hard belly, provoking a little yelp. She glanced over, registering little more than pale eyes, a hard-set mouth and prickly cheeks, all shadowed by a cowboy hat. “Where’re my kids?” she managed through clenched teeth.
“Inside. Safe.”
“Alone?” Fear surged through her, more intense even than the contractions. “They’re scared to death of bein’ in a strange place by themselves! They’re—”
“Fine,” the man said quietly. “How far apart are they?” His voice was gentle, low. Totally lost on her. Sheets of water drummed relentlessly into the mud by the car, on the Impala’s hood and roof, irritating her no end. She realized the man’s hand still rested on her distended belly.
“I hope to heck this means you’re the doctor.”
“Looks like this is your lucky day, ma’am.” He removed his hand; she glanced over, saw he was squatting by the open car door. Rain streamed off his hat brim. “So.” Patience weighted the single word. “How far apart—?”
“I don’t know,” she bit out. “Constant, seems like.”
“Can you walk?”
“You think I’d’ve let my kids out in this rain if I could?”
No sooner were the words out than a pair of strong arms slipped around her, lifting her up and out of the car. With a little cry, Maddie tucked her head against the solid, firesmoke-scented chest, trying to avoid the pelting rain. The doctor cocooned her inside his jacket as best he could, plopped his hat on her head, then gently shifted her in his arms to slam the car door shut.
“Hang on,” he shouted over the din. “I’m gonna get you to the house as fast as possible, okay?”
Huddled underneath the coat, the precariously angled hat, Maddie nodded weakly, the pain mercifully subsiding for the minute or so it took for the trek to the house, set back from the road maybe a hundred feet or so.
But only for a minute. The instant they got inside, another contraction vised every muscle from her ribs to her knees. She bit her lip to keep from screaming in front of her babies, standing wide-eyed in the old-fashioned vestibule as the doctor swept her past them and down a narrow hallway. She was barely aware of the children’s sneakers beating a tattoo against the bare wood floor as they followed, Noah asking her over and over if she was all right.
“I’m fine, sugar,” she managed, somehow, even though she couldn’t see him. Still, she winced a little as the doctor lowered her onto the edge of a bed covered in a heavily textured bedspread, flinching in the sudden flash of a bedside lamp being turned on.
“You feel like pushing yet?”
She shook her head.
“Good. Means we got a minute.”
He helped her out of her coat, then disappeared. Seconds later, he was back with a pile of linens, what looked like some shirts or something, and his black bag, which he thunked onto the nightstand. Noah and Katie Grace stood rooted to the spot a few feet away, Katie with her thumb in her mouth. Water dripped from both their heads, had turned Noah’s gray sweatshirt—two sizes too big, but she’d found it for next to nothing at some yard sale—nearly black. Maddie moaned and struggled to get up. “They’re all wet—”
Another pain slammed into her, grabbing her breath. She doubled up, falling onto her side into the bed, mortified and aggravated and plain scared out of her wits. Her eyes clamped shut, but a tear or two still escaped. Through her nightgown sleeve, she felt a warm, steady touch, which she had to admit did calm her some.
“I’ll take care of it,” the doctor said. “You just concentrate on having this baby, you hear?” She managed a nod, the bedspread rough against her cheek. “Good. Water break yet?”
“Uh-uh.”
“Here—” A thick, white towel appeared in her line of sight. “In case it does while I’m tending to the kids.”
Maddie struggled to protest, but her body had other ideas. The next few minutes were reduced to disjointed impressions—a radiator clanking, rain slashing against the window, wet clothes plopping on the floor as the doctor soothed her frightened children. The fact that nobody had appeared to help him out. Like a wife or housekeeper. Or something.
