“Well, maybe you should broaden your practice. I’ll be a reference if you like.”
“You want me as competition in town?” His chuckle made her stomach quiver again.
“I’m not sure it would matter much,” Jaclyn mumbled. “I could hardly have fewer patients.” She gulped, regrouped. “It’s good to see you again, Kent. It’s been a long time since we were in high school together. We’ll have to catch up sometime.” She’d been so focused on the clinic she’d met hardly anyone—it would be nice to have a social life.
His beautiful smile disappeared, his face tightening into an unreadable mask.
“Sure.” He looked around as if he wanted to avoid further conversation. “The ambulance is here. You’d better go with them, get your foot checked.” His arm left her waist.
“I’m fine.” Jaclyn studied him as she balanced on her uninjured foot, feeling suddenly bereft. “Have you lived in Hope since high school?”
“No.” Kent’s response didn’t invite further questions. He turned his head, nodding when one of the other firefighters motioned for him to join them. “I have to go.”
“Well, thanks for saving my life.” She waited until he’d taken a few steps away. “Kent?”
“Yes?” He turned back, his impatience to get back to work clearly visible.
“Was anyone else hurt?” She held her breath as she waited for his answer.
“Just you.” He studied her for a moment longer, then grabbed the gear he’d thrown down and strode away looking larger than life.
Not that he needs any help there, she thought noting the badge at the top of his sleeve. “Fire Chief Kent McCloy is already the stuff of heroes. But that doesn’t matter to me,” she said aloud, as if convincing herself. “I have no time for relationships. I’m not back in Hope for a high school reunion.”
So what was with her reaction to him?
“Jaclyn, you’re talking to yourself.” RaeAnn frowned. “How much smoke did you breathe in?”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you aren’t. Your foot is injured. For once, stop trying to be in control.” RaeAnn slid an arm around her waist for support. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”
Maybe they could get her head examined while she was there, Jaclyn mused. She checked over her shoulder one last time and saw Kent motion for another fireman to direct his hose on the back of the now-smoking building that had housed Jaclyn’s clinic. That clinic had been the focus of her dreams for more than ten years. It was the place where she was finally going to earn the life she’d been given. The life Jessica had lost.
Why? That was the question that always haunted her. Why had her twin sister gotten leukemia and not her? In all the years since Jessica’s death, she’d never figured that out.
“Ready?”
Jaclyn shook off her stupor and concentrated on getting into RaeAnn’s car while her assistant retrieved her shoes. It must have been smoke addling her brain that made her notice Kent’s broad shoulders again because Dr. Jaclyn LaForge was not interested in men—especially not Kent McCloy, no matter how good he looked in his gear.
Guys like Kent, even though they’re gorgeous, have no effect on me, she thought as she sat alone in a treatment room, waiting to be examined by a colleague. But all the denials in the world couldn’t disguise the way her heartbeat had raced when Kent had touched her.
How was it that the only guy she’d ever had a crush on in high school—the guy who’d stuck by her when everyone else had turned against her after Jessica’s death—still had the power to make her shiver?
Didn’t matter. Overpowering reactions notwithstanding, Jaclyn had no time for personal relationships. She had a duty to her twin sister to get the clinic up and running again. Despite losing the building, she would find a way to do it—no matter what.
* * *
Kent left the fire hall late in the afternoon after learning the fire was the result of an overtaxed electrical outlet. Thankfully no one had been seriously hurt. But the incident reinforced his long-held belief that it was time to get an emergency procedure plan in place in town.
He took his time driving home, surveying the land in its burgeoning spring glory. The last rays of sun sank below the craggy tips of New Mexico’s mountains, bathing the world in a rosy glow as he drove into his driveway. It should have made him feel peaceful. But the usual post-fire adrenaline surge had left Kent antsy. He walked around the yard and thought about the town’s new pediatrician.
Kent had forgotten a lot of things about Jaclyn LaForge since their days in high school—that silver blond hair of hers, for one thing. Then she’d worn it long; now her short, precise blunt-cut caressed a chin that said she was all business. The silky strands cupped her face, drawing attention to her delicate cheekbones and big brown eyes framed by long lush lashes. How could he have forgotten those lashes?
The pediatrician oozed class, from her red silk suit to her spicy perfume. Jaclyn, the rebel teen whom he’d known so well had been totally erased.
In an instant he time-traveled back five years.
“Kent, slow down. I can’t keep up with you wearing these heels.”
His wife would have envied Jaclyn her fancy shoes—they were the kind Lisa loved but said she could never wear in Hope.
“This is Hokey Ville, Kent.” Three years later and Lisa’s accusing voice would not be silenced. “You said we wouldn’t stay. You promised we’d go back to Dallas.”
A promise he’d made but never kept.
Uncomfortable with the memory of his betrayal, Kent clenched his jaw. Rescuing Jaclyn from that burning building had knocked his world off kilter. He doubted he’d ever forget seeing her through the smoke, but he needed to restore his carefully managed equilibrium because blocking out the past and focusing on the present was how he got through each day.
Oreo, his old Springer spaniel, strolled up to him and rubbed against his knee. Her white-and-gold patches gleamed from the brushing he’d given her this morning. As usual, the dog seemed to sense his mood. She nuzzled under his hand until it rested on her head, then laid her head on his knee.
“Did you get the pups straightened out, girl?” he asked. Oreo’s daughter had given birth to ten pups the week before. Grandmother Oreo seemed to think it was her duty to ensure each one of the offspring received equal attention from their mother.
The dog’s responsive yowl made Kent laugh. Her throated growls sounded as if she was asking him about his day. Since Lisa’s death he’d gotten into the habit of talking to the dog. Oreo had become his companion so he told her what was on his mind.
“Hope needs a kids’ doctor. Jaclyn’s clinic is unusable, but Dad’s old building might make a good replacement.” The dog shifted and he nodded. “I know. It’s probably a wreck.”
Kent didn’t want to admit how much seeing Jaclyn had affected him. He was grateful when a car’s lights flashed as it climbed the hill to his ranch house. Company would be good.
He gulped when Jaclyn climbed out of a sky-blue convertible and walked toward him—limped, actually. She had on a pair of jeans, a perfectly pressed candy-pink shirt and a pair of white sneakers that looked brand-new. Typical city girl.
“Hello.” Her smile displayed perfect white teeth. Everything about her was perfect.
“Hi.” He motioned to a chair. “How’s the foot?” he asked when she’d sat.
“Sore.” She tucked some of the glossy silver-blond strands behind one ear before she bent to pet his dog. “But fine.”
“Good.” Suddenly he could think of nothing to say.