A Marriage In Wyoming. Lynnette Kent

      They ate in silence for a few minutes, giving the delicious food the appreciation it deserved. “At least now I know where to come for a decent meal,” she said when her hunger had been eased. “I don’t have to depend on peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches.”

      â€œYou’re not a cook?”

      â€œI can make a salad, boil pasta or bake a potato in the microwave. Being a doctor hasn’t offered much opportunity to develop complex cooking skills.”

      â€œSo what do you do on your days off?”

      â€œThere haven’t been many of those. But I usually go for a run if I’ve got an hour of daylight. And I like to read.”

      Garrett grinned at her. “See, we do have something in common. I like to read, too. What do you read?”

      â€œNot religious texts.”

      â€œWe were talking about free time. And you’re determined to pigeonhole me, aren’t you?”

      She pushed her empty plate away. “I’m a doctor. That role defines my whole life. You’re a minister. Wouldn’t you say the same?”

      â€œBut you’re also a runner and a reader. And probably a few other things I’ve yet to discover. I’m a minister, yes, but I also work on a ranch. I rode bucking broncs in the rodeo. I volunteer with at-risk kids. I’m a brother and soon to be a brother-in-law to a friend of yours. Do you have family?”

      Rachel swallowed hard. “No.”

      He studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowed. “You lost somebody recently.”

      She shook her head. “Not so recent. My mom died two years ago.”

      â€œI’m sorry.” His voice was gentle. “You still miss her.”

      Just like that, tears stung her eyes. For something to do, Rachel picked up her glass and took a long swallow of water. Blinking hard, she said, “Sorry. I must be tired.”

      â€œNo problem. Losing a parent is tough. If you ever want to talk about it, I’ll be glad to listen.”

      â€œThat’s okay.” She sent him a forced smile. “I’m fine.”

      â€œDessert?” Terri asked, appearing suddenly beside them. “We’ve got fresh lemon meringue pie.”

      The idea of so much sugar after a day spent dealing with diabetes didn’t appeal to Rachel. “Just some coffee, please.”

      â€œMe, too,” Garrett said. “Then I’ll help you get your car unloaded.”

      â€œNo, please,” Rachel started. “I can manage—”

      â€œBut it will go faster with two people working at it.” He winked again. “You can’t get rid of me. You might as well give in.”

      â€œThen you can let me take care of dinner.” When Terri put the check on the table, Rachel managed to get her fingers on it first. “So there.”

      He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I recognize when resistance is futile. But I will get even.”

      Darkness had fallen before they arrived at the clinic. Rachel stared through the truck window at the building she’d visited only briefly this morning. “Seems like days ago I arrived.” She blew out a deep breath and turned to Garrett. “You should go home.”

      â€œSoon. You don’t even know where your apartment is, do you?”

      â€œSure I do. Evans Street.”

      â€œHow do you get there from here?”

      â€œCaroline sent me a map...”

      â€œJust get in your vehicle and let me lead the way. You can worry about maps tomorrow.”

      Suddenly too tired to protest, Rachel did as she was instructed. In five minutes, they pulled up at the curb in front of an older two-story house with a wraparound porch.

      Garrett came to her window. “This is it. You’ve got Caroline for an upstairs neighbor, though she’s not here much this summer. Luckily, the first-floor tenant moved out just at the right moment to give you a home.”

      â€œIt seems to be a nice place.” She pulled the key she’d been sent out of her purse. “So far, so good.”

      The interior was cozy, filled with secondhand furniture that appeared comfortable, if a little dated and dusty. The kitchen was bigger than Rachel would need, the bathroom smaller than she would have preferred. “This will work for me,” she said as she and Garrett approached her car. “Compared to the places I lived during med school, it’s a palace.”

      He pulled a couple of suitcases out of the back of the SUV. “We make sacrifices when we really want something, don’t we?”

      She didn’t answer because it disturbed her that he understood what she’d been through without having to be told. He was altogether too easy to talk to, too perceptive and too easygoing. It would be better if he got angry or at least annoyed when she resisted him. Instead, he just smiled.

      In a few short minutes, all the belongings she’d labored to fit into her vehicle were set in convenient places around her new apartment. Garrett put the last box of books on the coffee table and straightened. “Do you have more stuff coming?”

      â€œNo, this is it. I got rid of a lot of things before I left Seattle. I wanted to start new here.”

      â€œAn admirable plan.” He put his hands in his pockets. “I should leave and let you settle in. Thanks again for helping out with Lena today—it made a big difference to have a doctor available to deal with this crisis. You’re going to be a real benefit to this community.”

      â€œI’m glad I could help.” She followed him as he walked to the door. “Thank you for helping carry all this inside. It would have taken me a lot longer. And I’m pretty tired.”

      â€œMy pleasure.” He faced her at the door. “Justino and I will be heading to the hospital in the morning. Can I pick you up?”

      â€œI’m meeting with my new nurse early tomorrow,” she said, determined to set some limits. “But I’ll check on Lena as soon as possible. I’m sure the doctors on staff have her condition under control. I’ve applied for privileges at the hospital, but I’m not currently Lena’s doctor. And—” she gave him a pointed look “—I’m not her family.”

      â€œOf course. It’s just been such a relief to have someone around who really understands what’s happening.” His serious blue gaze captured hers. “Your support meant a lot to me today.”

      The hall light was dim, and they stared at each other in the shadows. The moment seemed more intimate than it should, more important.

      â€œGood night, Rachel Vale,” he said finally, his voice low.

      â€œGood night, Garrett Marshall.” She wanted to break the connection between them but couldn’t quite seem to do it.

      Then he bent forward and kissed her on the cheek. The press of his lips burned like a brand. “Sleep well.” His boot heels thudded on the porch floor as he walked quickly away.

      Rachel didn’t watch him drive off. That would be foolish and romantic, neither of which she intended to be. She was practical and logical, she told herself as she went into the bedroom,