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      VICTORIA PADE

      is a native of Colorado, where she continues to live and work. Her passion—besides writing—is chocolate, which she indulges in frequently and in every form. She loves romance novels and romantic movies—the more lighthearted, the better—but she likes a good, juicy mystery now and then, too.

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter One

      “I’ll see one more patient and then that’s it for me for the next week—I’m on vacation as of midnight. So what’s up?” Dr. Reid Walker asked the emergency room nurse he was working with.

      “We only have one patient left, period,” the nurse responded. “Second week of October, first snowstorm of the season, icy roads—she slid into a telephone pole just outside of town. She says she’s fine but the air bag deployed and you know police policy around here—when the air bag inflates, they bring ’em into the E.R. to be checked out no matter what the vehicle occupant says. Her name is Chloe Carmichael.”

      Reid stopped short at that. “Say the name again.”

      “Chloe Carmichael,” the nurse repeated. Then, without noticing the effect that particular name was having on Reid, she said, “I’ll release our flu case, hopefully you can wrap up the car accident, and we’re clear. Next shift will be in any minute. They can handle anything that comes in after this, and we’re both outta here.”

      Reid didn’t respond as the nurse left him. He also didn’t move. Instead he stayed where he was, just outside the counter that surrounded the area that staff referred to as the fishbowl, where medical personnel convened to talk, pick up charts, get supplies and do paperwork.

      The emergency room of the only medical facility in the small town of Northbridge, Montana, had just four rooms branching out from the fishbowl. Two of them were dark and unoccupied. Reid had just left the third after informing a girl from Northbridge College that she could relax, she wasn’t pregnant and had only a case of influenza. Which left the fourth room the only possibility for the location of his next patient.

      Chloe Carmichael.

      Sunday night, 11:45. It was a hell of an end to the weekend. A hell of a beginning to his vacation.

      Still, Reid didn’t budge. He glanced across the fishbowl to Room 4.

      The lights there were on. The wall facing the fishbowl was glass above the cupboards where gowns and necessary equipment were stored in each of the triage rooms. The privacy curtain wasn’t completely pulled around the bed and there, in the small gap left, he could partially see the patient.

      But partially was enough.

      She was sitting up in the bed, dressed in a hospital gown, appearing none-the-worse-for-wear given that she’d just been in an automobile accident. Looking better, in fact, than the last time Reid had seen her.

      Fourteen years ago.

      She’d been seventeen.

      He’d been eighteen.

      It seemed like yesterday.

      Chloe Carmichael.

      Her family had moved to Northbridge when she was in elementary school. They’d lived a few doors down from the house Reid’s family owned, the house where his mother still resided. The Carmichaels had lived there until fourteen years ago when they’d left town abruptly. They’d rented the house out ever since. A few months ago it had gone up for sale, and Reid and his brother Luke had put in an offer on it. Rental property in a college town was a good investment. Even if it was still connected to Chloe Carmichael.

      Reid and Luke were about to close on the sale of the house she’d inherited from her parents. But Reid had been told that the Realtor would be acting as Chloe Carmichael’s proxy because she didn’t want to return to Northbridge.

      So what was she doing here?

      “Oh, good, you haven’t gone in to see the other patient yet.”

      The nurse’s voice caught him by surprise. Reid had been so lost in his own thoughts he hadn’t been aware that she’d rejoined him.

      “You were going to write a script for birth control pills so our college girl doesn’t have any more pregnancy scares,” the nurse reminded him.

      Reid

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