A Marriage In Wyoming. Lynnette Kent

shook his head. “No, it’s not. You shouldn’t have to deal with diabetes. Nobody should.” He shrugged. “But it’s happened. And in the long run you will be happiest and be able to enjoy your life if you learn to take care of yourself.”

      Lena had broken into sobs. Justino put his arms around her but looked at Garrett. “I think she wants to be by herself.”

      â€œWe’ll step out for a few minutes.” He picked up his hat, held the door for Kim and Rachel, and then followed them into the hall. “I guess you have to expect an emotional reaction. It’s a pretty serious diagnosis.”

      â€œYes, it is.” Kim gave him a calm smile. “As her father—”

      He cleared his throat. “I’m not her dad. I’m acting in his place.”

      â€œOh.” Her brows drew together as she turned to Rachel. “Are you her mother?”

      â€œNo, I’m the physician in Bisons Creek, where Lena lives.”

      â€œI just assumed...” The nurse took a breath. “Well, if you are Lena’s guardians, you’ll have to help her overcome her resistance. Her very life depends on it.”

      As Kim left them, Garrett rubbed the nape of his neck. “Acceptance is a hard enough lesson for an adult to learn, much less a teenager. This kind of situation poses a real test of faith.”

      â€œFaith isn’t the solution here.” Rachel took a deep breath, trying to curb her impatience at his approach to the problem. “We have to convince her that medical science can’t be ignored. It’s a fact that she has diabetes, a fact that she has to take insulin or suffer serious consequences. Faith won’t change those facts. There’s no other reasonable choice.”

      His brows drew together in a worried frown. “Easier said than done.”

      â€œIt is a daunting prospect.” His obvious concern softened her mood, and she put her hand on his upper arm. “But you’ll take it a day at a time. An hour at a time.”

      The frown cleared and then he smiled at her. “That’s all we ever have to manage, in fact. This moment. Thanks for reminding me.”

      For a moment, she returned his smile, surrendering to the attraction she’d been resisting all day.

      Then she remembered his vocation and disconnected her gaze from his. “We should check on Lena. I hope she’s calmed down by now.”

      In fact, the girl had fallen asleep, curled on her side toward Justino, who sat next to the bed, holding her hand. When Rachel and Garrett entered, he eased his fingers free and came across the room to face them.

      â€œTell me the truth,” he said, his young face set in grim lines. “Will Lena die from this diabetes?”

      When Garrett glanced at her, Rachel tilted her head to indicate that he should field the question.

      â€œThe effects of untreated diabetes can be life threatening,” he told the boy. “What we have to do is convince Lena to take the medicine that will prevent those effects. It won’t be easy—at first anyway. But with care she can live to be a grandmother. Or a great-grandmother!”

      Justino sighed. “She has always hated getting shots at the doctor. But somehow she will manage. She’s strong. And I’ll help her.”

      Garrett gripped his shoulder. “I know you will. We’ll all be on Lena’s side, supporting her as she gets used to a new routine. And we have Dr. Vale here in town as an added bonus. She’ll be great backup.”

      Justino gave Rachel one of his rare smiles. “Maybe you will be more than backup,” he told her. “Maybe you will be the mother Lena doesn’t have.”

      * * *

      AFTER CALLING THE ranch to give everyone a report on Lena’s condition, Garrett sat down beside Rachel in the waiting room. He leaned over and spoke in a low voice. “You look terrified.”

      She stared straight ahead. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

      â€œWhen Justino said you could be the mother Lena lost. You went pale.”

      â€œI was startled, that’s all. Teenagers are usually more suspicious of adults.”

      â€œI think these two are grabbing at whatever resources they can reach. You’re going to be one of them.”

      Her expression relaxed slightly. “I’m glad to be Lena’s doctor. But I can’t step in as her mother. There’s a reason doctors don’t treat their own family—it’s called objectivity.”

      â€œDo you want kids some day?”

      Now she frowned at him. “I don’t know. Do you?”

      He nodded. “Definitely. Kids are fun.” Then he reconsidered. “But also scary. I guess I have to get past that somehow, to be useful to Lena.”

      â€œThat’s the point of remaining objective,” Rachel said. “When you’re taking care of somebody, you focus on the facts and what can be done, not the emotions involved. It’s called equanimity—staying calm in the midst of a high-pressure situation. As one of my teachers suggested, ‘First, take your own pulse.’”

      â€œSo that’s how you doctors manage. Must take lots of practice.”

      â€œInternship and residency are all about equanimity. The more cases you see, the better your control.”

      Garrett cocked his head. “And you like being in control.”

      â€œAre we still talking about medicine?”

      He grinned. “That’s up to you.”

      â€œWell, then, I admit I’m pretty much a control freak, professionally and personally. Life runs smoother that way.”

      â€œYou’ve never encountered circumstances you couldn’t control?”

      â€œOf course I have,” she said, her tone sharp. Then she drew a deep breath. “Everybody does,” she said more calmly.

      â€œThat’s good. For a minute there, I thought you were perfect.” When she laughed, he nodded. “There you go. I knew you’d have a great laugh.”

      Her lips parted in surprise, and her cheeks flushed. He wondered if he might get a flirtatious comeback.

      But in the next moment, she stood up abruptly. “I’m going to stretch my legs. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

      Before Garrett could say another word, she’d hurried out the door.

      * * *

      BETWEEN A TRIP to the restroom and a walk around the entire hospital, Rachel managed to waste half an hour she might have otherwise spent sitting with Garrett Marshall. Flirting with Garrett Marshall.

      Not that flirting was a skill she’d had much practice with—medical school and training hadn’t left a lot of time for romance.

      But Garrett wasn’t someone she wanted to think of in a romantic context anyway. She wasn’t going to fall for the cowboy type, no matter how ruggedly handsome he might be. Of course, Garrett was more than a cowboy. He was also a minister.

      And that was the real issue between them, one that couldn’t be resolved with any amount of flirting or getting better acquainted. As a pastor, Garrett Marshall counted on the effectiveness of prayer