LITMIR.BIZ

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the empty clinic and huffed out a sigh as she sank into an office chair. Blocking out the fact that tomorrow was Thanksgiving wasn’t the only thing on her new to-do list. She also faced a day of sitting alone in the ski clinic with little more than a mug of lukewarm coffee and a stale packet of mint cookies, figuring out a way to clean the slate with Fraser and start again. What fun! If time travel were an option, she’d fast-forward to spring. If she stuck to her plan she’d own the clinic outright by April, Fraser would be gone and she’d be back in control again.

      Tara opened up the packet of cookies, took a tentative sniff then pushed them to the far end of the counter. This was ridiculous. She shook her head and marched herself into her office.

      Snap out of it, Tara! She had worked too hard to let herself wallow in self-pity. Mr. Jones and all the other patients she had seen and would see over the season were her priority—they were where her heart lay. If Thanksgiving came in the form of a microwave turkey dinner and a couple of old cookies, then so be it. And if Fraser MacKenzie couldn’t take it as much as he dished it, too bad.

      “I seem to rub Dr. Braxton the wrong way.” Fraser put the comment out into the crisp, wintry air, wondering if Liesel would confirm his assessment of the situation.

      Liesel gave Fraser a sidelong glance and let out a good-natured laugh. “Well, I haven’t worked with Tara that long. Just a few months. Let’s just say I haven’t seen her dander rise up quite so quickly before. You seem to have made quite an impression on her.”

      “Not really the impression I was hoping to make.” He tried to put on a goofy grin but it felt strained. Sucking up wasn’t his modus operandi. Problem-solving was. He had signed a contract so, for better or for worse, he was going to be here for the next few months. The last thing he wanted was to spend his days squabbling with Tara. Life was too short.

      “From what I do know about her, she’s pretty private. She’s probably a bit stressed because she only has a few months left to pay off the rest of her loan to buy the clinic from the lodge. If I were you, I’d stick to medical issues. That’s what seems to keep her happy.”

      Quite a commitment from someone who had to be in her early thirties at most.

      “Does she have family out here?” Fraser took a stab at the only thing he could think of that would get someone to unpack their suitcases and stay put.

      “Not that I know of. She’s never mentioned any family at all but, as I said, she keeps herself to herself.”

      He knew that feeling. He hadn’t mentioned his family since the day after his brother’s funeral. His past he kept locked firmly away, where it belonged. Out of sight. Everyone was better off that way.

      Fraser turned to face Liesel, his hands firmly squaring her shoulders to his, suddenly fuelled with the need to put things right. Whether or not he stuck around was a different issue, but he was not in the business of making other people’s lives a misery. Not any more. “Let’s not make this a tour of Deer Creek. Let’s make this a tour of Tara’s Deer Creek and see what we can discover about why she loves this place so much.”

      Liesel crinkled her nose in confusion, “I’m not sure I follow you. I don’t think Tara would be so keen if we starting poking around her—”

      “No, no,” Fraser enthused, “this is to help us—help me—survive the season. It’ll be like a treasure hunt, only … I’m not sure what the treasure is just yet.”

      The nurse laughed again, infected by his energy. “I’m still not entirely sure I know what you’re talking about, Dr. MacKenzie, but I’m more than happy to join in. Although the chances are pretty high that everything you’re looking for is behind the doors of the clinic.”

      Fraser linked arms with the redhead. “I’m quite sure there’s more to Dr. Tara Braxton than the clinic.” He turned towards Marian’s bakery on the small main street. “Come along, Liesel, I think I know the perfect place to start.”

      Tara gave a short wave to the EMTs as they drove off with Mr. Jones safely secured in the back of the ambulance. His pulse and heart rate were stabilized. For now. But further extensive tests were required to ensure he didn’t need bypass surgery, and they were more complex than she could carry out here at the clinic. Luckily, the Valley Hospital was equipped to do most major surgeries. Denver wasn’t too far along the road if something truly complicated came their way. She had seen a couple of rescues that had involved airlifting the patients to Denver but, fingers crossed, nothing so far this season.

      Refocusing her energies into her work had proved to be good medicine. Patient care was something she valued and the last thing she was going to allow her new hire to do was compromise her career. It had happened once, and it most certainly wouldn’t happen again.

      As the morning wore on and the steady stream of patients ebbed away, Tara felt back on her game. Composed. In control. The morning’s cases had been fairly easy—a fractured wrist, a severe nosebleed and an early case of stomach upset from over-indulgence. Just enough busy work for Tara to almost squeeze images of the dark-haired Scot from her mind.

      Almost.

      Sending Fraser out on a tour of Deer Creek, a small resort village compromising a lodge, a few ski chalets and a tiny town center was hardly going to keep him out of the clinic for long. She could feel herself return to her old habit of chewing on her lower lip. This man was not bringing out the best in her.

      Technically, Fraser hadn’t been contracted to start work until the following Monday. It hadn’t even occurred to her to hire someone to start work over the holiday. When she’d found out at the last minute that Tom Brady was heading to Banff, instead of renewing his contract in Deer Creek, she’d made a few phone calls. Soon enough she’d felt she had covered all her bases for the holiday weekend. There were plenty of locals who helped out with search and rescue teams if required, and the team at the fire station were all trained in first aid, not to mention the ski patrollers, who were always rostered on. Bar anything truly horrible happening—she gave a quick subconscious knock on the wooden doorframe—everything would be okay.

      “Anybody home?” Liesel quipped as she entered to Tara’s knock.

      “Just little old me!” Tara smiled at the nurse, whom she now counted as a good friend. “Sorry about earlier.” She winced apologetically. “I must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

      “Mmm … could be that,” Liesel mused. She leant forward and teasingly poked Tara in the arm. “Or it could be that someone has a crush on the handsome new Highland doctor.”

      Tara playfully slapped away Liesel’s hand. At least she hoped it seemed playful.

      “Do not. I don’t have time for silly crushes.” How humiliating.

      “Are you saying my crush on Eric is silly?” Liesel persisted in taunting her boss.

      “I would hardly call dating someone for several months and being invited to their family home for Thanksgiving as having a silly crush.”

      “True.” Liesel dropped her backpack on the floor behind the reception counter and flopped into the wheeled chair, lazily swinging herself from side to side.

      “Where did you leave Dr. MacKenzie, anyway?” Tara wished she could’ve bitten back the words as soon as they’d left her mouth. She was pretty sure they betrayed a bit too much interest as to his irritatingly magnetic whereabouts. Too much interest for her own liking anyway.

      Seemingly not having heard her, Liesel turned to Tara with a big grin. “This will be my first Thanksgiving, you know.”

      Tara smiled warmly at her pixie-haired friend. She deserved all of the happiness she received. From the sound of it, Liesel’s heart had been picked up at the beginning of a number of ski seasons and soundly dropped at the last ski lift run at the first sign of spring. She was a kind, trusting woman and, from the sound of it, was reaching a point where traveling from resort to resort had lost its luster. “It’s homey here, isn’t it?”

      “Where,

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