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to the edge gave her. She smiled. Henry had taught her to push the envelope once in a while. And then she slowed, wondering if anyone would ever care that she felt that way, if she’d ever have a relationship and a family like Sally had, if the town would ever accept her as their doctor.

      What would her sister have done under the circumstances?

      She gripped the steering wheel hard and then made herself relax. There wouldn’t have been any such “circumstances.” Amanda, the golden child, had been smart and beautiful with an aura of grace and strength. Everyone would have welcomed her warmly as a replacement for Doc Avery…even though she wasn’t a man.

      She rounded the last sharp curve, and the valley green with both darkness and light spread out before her. The stunning nature of the land had not changed.

      She could face Guy Daley—

      “Oh God.” She laughed. She had tried so hard not to think of him. If what didn’t kill you made you stronger, then this man had contributed greatly to her strength over the years.

      She slowed to turn onto the long road from the highway to the ranch house. The roughly graded gravel took her through what had been pastureland, but now seemed unused and undisturbed, still beautiful, not lessened by having nature’s free hand.

      As she rounded the last corner, the ranch house and buildings came into view.

      She stopped near the barn.

      A rustic yet sturdy-looking two-story log building stood next to the house, apparently a guesthouse for the participants in Henry’s program. It didn’t destroy the look of the homestead, but it had replaced the old oak tree. The one that Granddad had always insisted shouldn’t be growing there, and maybe it shouldn’t have been.

      They’d put the building right where Amanda had lain for so long in the snow. A heart-wringing longing filled Maude, and she rested her forehead on her white-knuckled hands. She missed her sister and the life they’d had.

      She suddenly felt closer to Amanda than she had in years. “I’m doing it, Amanda.” She would fulfill her sister’s dream no matter how hard she had to fight to get the people of the valley to accept her. The lovely, craggy valley, full of skeptical people, would have a doctor, one who cared, and one everyone could call Doc.

      The sound of rapping on the window of the car brought her head sharply up.

      CHAPTER THREE

      STANDING BESIDE Maude’s car door, his dark hair glistening in the sunlight, planes of his chest distinct beneath the well-washed denim of his shirt, Guy Daley stared in at her. Shadows softened the contours of his face, and what he might be under his stern exterior caught her off guard.

      She turned away as if to check the stack of papers on the seat beside her. When she turned back, the sun lit the true man. Shuttered, unreadable.

      Showdown time. She could either back up and run him over or she could get out of the car and make nice with the man who always made it so possible for her to dislike him.

      Dr. DeVane would make nice. She got out and kept the door between them. “Hello, how’s Jake today?”

      He nodded a greeting. “Annoyed.”

      “That doesn’t seem like Jake.” Irritability. A symptom of a problem she had not detected?

      “He’s been tending to Ms. Stone.”

      “Ah.” She lifted her chin once in understanding. “I would guess she hasn’t let up on her demands.”

      “You’d be right.”

      A small bell tinkled in the distance, and a moment later, Jake stepped out of the barn. His typically erect posture seemed a bit droopy today as he waved to her and headed toward the log guesthouse.

      Maude covered her smile with her hand and when she regained control, she called to Jake as he mounted the porch. “I’ll get that. If it’s all right with you.”

      Only the perking up of Jake’s posture let his relief show. “Thanks, Dr. DeVane. I expect she’ll enjoy seeing someone besides me,” he said, oh so politely, with a salute on his hat bill. He stepped off the porch and walked calmly into the barn where she suspected he locked and barred the door behind him.

      “You’ve won over one cowboy,” Guy said, his voice a low rumble no one would overhear but that murmured a warming frequency through her.

      “Well, I’ve got a bell to answer.” She tugged on her jacket and mentally stilled the useless humming inside her.

      Guy stepped back only enough for her to pass. “She’s on the second floor at the end of the hallway.”

      Maude nonchalantly edged between her car door and the man. The seductive smell of male-at-work filled her head, and the humming turned to heat until she thought she’d just take all her clothes off and demand satisfaction.

      She gazed steadily into his face, refusing to let him see he had gotten to her in any way. “I’ll find her.”

      “Follow the sound of the bell.”

      She thought his eyes twinkled, but twinkling like a star was not Guy Daley’s way.

      On the first floor of the guesthouse, where it smelled of wood and polish, she knew she stood where the tree had borne witness to the tragedy that had unfolded beneath its branches.

      The tinkling bell hushed the memories and Maude ascended the stairs. In a sparsely but tastefully decorated room, Ms. Stone sat in a chair by the window. Her foot propped up on an ottoman, she looked as if she were holding court.

      Maude examined her ankle and reconfirmed her diagnosis. They spoke about the next few days, when the group of executives was expected to depart the ranch.

      “You can begin walking without the crutches now,” Maude told her. “And if you’re comfortable, you don’t even need the Ace bandage.”

      “I’m so grateful there is a Chicago doctor all the way out here. Thank you for coming.”

      Wow, something in Cynthia Stone had changed, Maude thought as she left the room. She wondered what would happen if Ms. Stone knew there were two Chicago doctors all the way out here.

      As Maude descended the stairs, she paused on the landing to appreciate the beauty of the ranch. Just then, Guy stepped from the barn and lifted his eyes to hers in a penetrating stare. Her heart rate sped up. She felt silly. He didn’t even like her, for God’s sake.

      When she stepped out of the guesthouse, Guy was on the porch leaning on the rail looking even more cowboy. Her first impulse was to step close, inhale the smell of him and kiss him.

      She checked that stuff right soon, but probably not before she gaped at him as if she were staring at Michelangelo’s David for the first time.

      It was a good thing he couldn’t read minds. Think of something else. Hunger. “Ms. Stone seems content.” She looked at her watch, really hungry. “And I have to go.”

      “Have you had lunch?”

      “Um.” Oh, she hoped he didn’t read the rest of the stuff inside her head. “If having Oreo cookies counts.”

      “When I told Bessie you were coming to see Ms. Stone, she left a spread. A thank-you, I suppose. And then they all went shopping.”

      The thrum of his voice sent a wave of sizzling energy through her, and she had to give herself a mental swat.

      “I wasn’t really planning on staying.” No lunch. No tour. No lusting after the enemy. No long goodbye to the ranch.

      She inhaled a deep breath, and her head filled with pine-scented memories. Oak tree gone, new guesthouse, Guy Daley…the swimming hole, the rich, tall forest, beautifully clean air, lazy summer mornings…She wanted to take one of those new guest rooms and stay forever.

      “Bessie will be disappointed.”

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