Second Chance With Her Army Doc

Can a chance reunion...

Rekindle an old flame?

Heart surgeon Sloane Manning and army doc Carter Holmes were the perfect couple. Until Carter walked away, leaving Sloane heartbroken. Determined to finally move on, Sloane heads off for a desert vacation, only to find Carter’s there, too! He’s still as ruggedly gorgeous and irresistibly charming as she remembers, but there’s a pain in his eyes Sloane must uncover before they can recapture what they once had...

Starting with non-fiction, DIANNE DRAKE penned hundreds of articles and seven books under the name JJ Despain. In 2001 she began her romance-writing career with The Doctor Dilemma. In 2005 Dianne’s first Medical Romance, Nurse in Recovery, was published, and with more than twenty novels to her credit she has enjoyed writing ever since.

Also by Dianne Drake

Tortured by Her TouchDoctor, Mummy…Wife?The Nurse and the Single DadSaved by Doctor DreamyBachelor Doc, Unexpected Dad

Sinclair Hospital Surgeons miniseries

Reunited with Her Army DocHealing Her Boss’s Heart

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Second Chance with Her Army Doc

Dianne Drake

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07540-4

SECOND CHANCE WITH HER ARMY DOC

© 2018 Dianne Despain

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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To soldiers all around the world who came home

only to find the greater battle was still ahead of them.

And to Bill, who lost the battle.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

PROLOGUE

THE SAND BETWEEN her toes tickled, and the moon was so bright it was as if someone had hung it on the beach just for them.

Carter always had these romantic ideas—seeing the vineyards of Napa Valley from a hot air balloon; a resort spa weekend when they’d have grapeseed massages and sip champagne in a hot mineral spring tub on their private patio, separating their world from everything else; joining in a celebration of light with a Chinese lantern inscribed with their names, sent into the nighttime sky along with hundreds of others.

And tonight, dancing on the beach in the moonlight. Feeling the gentle lapping of the water on their ankles as the tide trickled in. Seeing the far-off harbor lights twinkle against the black sky. Listening to the night birds searching for their evening meal.

“Are you chilly?” Carter asked.

“No, I’m fine,” Sloane replied, snuggling even closer into his arms.

She was always fine when he held her like this. In his arms—that was where she was meant to be.

“Maybe we should leave?”

Maybe they should, but she didn’t want to. Not yet.

These opportunities with Carter were scarce, due to conflicting work schedules, and she wanted every scrap of every minute right where she was, before they had to go back.

“Or, maybe we should stay,” she countered, her body rocking so sensuously against his she knew that even when they got to their room the night would be far from over. “Just for another few minutes.”

Carter chuckled as he pushed the wild copper hair from her face, then bent to kiss her on the neck. “Are you sure?” he whispered, just above a kiss.

The goosebumps started immediately. They always did with Carter. And she shivered...

“See... I knew you were chilly.” He gave her another kiss in the same spot, leaving a trail of butterfly kisses along her neck, ending at her jaw. “But I know where it’s warm...”

In his arms. Anywhere. Anytime.

“Maybe we should go back,” she whispered, a little sad that their dance had ended.

She loved Carter’s spontaneity—loved the way he would simply push everything aside just to spend what little time they could together.

Last weekend a climb in the canyons. Before that scuba diving. Restaurants. Vineyards and wine-tasting. Bicycling at dusk on a coastal boardwalk, then stopping for coffee and watching the sunset.

Their moments together were so few, and yet when they did find those moments nobody else in the world existed. It was just the two of them, making the most of what they had.

“It’s warm right here in your arms,” said Sloane, her voice breathy with desire. She didn’t want to change a moment of this, but she also didn’t want to change a moment of what Carter had planned for the evening. “So one more dance, please?”

“One more,” he said, then bent to her ear. “Then it’s my turn to dance my way.”

More goosebumps. Another shiver.

“Maybe we should save the dance on the beach for another time and go see what your dance is about.”

“You know what my dance is about,” he said as he scooped her up into his arms. “It’s the dance that’s as old as time.”

She loved it when he carried her. While she wasn’t particularly large, he was all muscle. Built ruggedly. Built just to fit her.

“Will there be wine?” she asked.

“If that’s what you want.”

There would also be white rose petals and candles, and strawberries dipped in chocolate. The reason she knew this was that she’d peeked at the bill. She hadn’t meant to, but he’d left it on the dresser when he’d gone out for ice, and she hadn’t been able to help herself.

Carter was always full of so many surprises—all of them for her, even if she did cheat a little in her excitement to find out. But he always made her feel like Christmas—the anticipation, the build-up of excitement, the dreaming of what he would do next.

Yes, even on the few instances she’d taken a peek, like she just had, and like she’d done when she was a little girl. Only then her dad had hidden packages of dolls and games and princess crowns, where Carter hid the little romantic things that caused her heart to beat faster—coupon books redeemable any time for kisses, hugs, making love...poems he’d written—not always good but definitely from his heart—and selfies of the two of them he’d had blown up and framed. There were at least three dozen of them on the hall wall leading to their bedroom.

But tonight there would be no selfies for what he had in store. Or maybe just one, with the two of them cuddled in the sheets. Yes, that would be nice—if she remembered. Because Carter had a way of making her forget everything but the moment.

“Are you going to be a brute and kick the door in?” she asked as they approached their room, she still in his arms.

“Oh, I’m going to be a brute—but it has nothing to do with the door.”

Of course he wasn’t going to be a brute. He was gentle in every way a man could be gentle, and as he lowered her to the bed and she held out her arms to him...

Sloane gasped, and bolted up in bed. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She was actually crying in her sleep for him. For them. And tonight had been no different from when she’d had the same dream before. Night after night of it, then week after week, in one version or another.

Sometimes they’d make it to their room; sometimes they’d never even get off the beach. But there was never an ending—just the way she and Carter hadn’t had a real ending.

Six years together and all she had left of him was a small jar of shrapnel from his injuries.

Dr. Sloane Manning swiped back angry tears, painful tears, then reached for her phone and punched in a number. “Yes,” she said, when the party on the other end answered. “I’d like to make a reservation for one.”

One. She almost choked on the word. She was going alone to a place she and Carter had always planned to explore together when they had the time. Well, she had the time, and most of that time was about to be invested in moving on.

“I’ll be in sometime tomorrow. Best room you’ve got, please.” Next came her credit card number, then she was set. Maybe a good hike in the desert and some nice, hard rock-climbing would snap her out of her funk.

Or maybe it wouldn’t. In any case, she was going once she’d cleared her schedule with her dad, who would make sure she was covered for the next few days. Or weeks. Either one. Because right now the last thing on her mind was surgery—which wasn’t the best situation for her patients. They deserved all of her, and she wasn’t even sure that if she was put back together she’d all be all there. So maybe going out and trying to find some of those missing pieces of herself was exactly what she needed. Because she couldn’t go on like this: not with the dreams, the tears, the broken heart...

CHAPTER ONE

“SO, AFTER YOU left Sloane, then what?” Matt McClain asked his old Army buddy Carter Holmes.

Carter cringed at the memory of how he’d left her. With a text.

Sorry, I can’t do this any longer. I’ve got to go find myself on my own.

Sloane Manning had done everything in her power to help him. She’d come to Germany for his surgeries and stayed at his bedside for days, until he was well enough to be shipped home. Then, at home, she’d put aside practically every aspect of her own life just to help him through.

She’d found different treatment options for PTSD, and she’d stood by him when her father had hired him back at Manning Hospital, even though he clearly hadn’t been ready for the stress. And she’d stood by him again when her father had suspended him for any number of the little infractions he’d incurred in his first six months back.

He’d done nothing to jeopardize a patient. Quite the opposite. He’d done everything to jeopardize his career. Insubordination. Tardiness. Bad attitude all along.

“I found a program that seemed like it might work for me. Sloane’s idea was something more traditional—like seeing a counselor or group therapy. But, that’s not me. So, I looked for something else.”

“And...?” Matt asked.

“I completed the first part. Did pretty well, all things considered. And my counselor there said there was excellent hope for my future. So now they’ve put me on a waiting list for the next part of the program, and with any luck I’ll be called within the next couple of months. They give you a little time off between parts one and two, to make sure part one has taken. So...that’s why I’m here, asking for a job. I need to keep myself busy until I go back to Tennessee. I need to keep my mind on the things I can control, and not on the things I can’t.”

“Sounds like it’s working,” Matt said.

“It is. It’s a slow process, but little by little it’s helping me define who I am again.”

He and Matt had been trapped in a cave in Afghanistan when, for whatever reason, he’d snapped. Left the cave and run head-first into gunfire. He’d got hit pretty hard. Lost a kidney and a spleen as a result. Damaged his other kidney as well. Matt had risked his life to leave the relative safety of that cave to save him.

“It’s a bear rescue facility. I’ll work with bear cubs—rescue them if they’re abandoned or injured, take care of them and, if they’re able to return to the wild, get them prepared to do that. That’s the hands-on part of the program. The first part was doing pretty much the same thing for myself—retraining for life in the world again. Making sure I have what it will take to work with the bears later on. It’s an amazing program. Gives you a different kind of responsibility and helps you find yourself inside that responsibility.”

Matt whistled. “Bears... I would have never guessed.”

“Just the little black bear variety. Not ready to tackle the grizzlies yet.” Carter chuckled. “And I’m the one who never even had a dog.”

“Well, it seems to be agreeing with you.”

“I hope it is,” Carter said in all seriousness. “I can’t live my life never knowing when something’s going to trigger me. It’s hell. It’s also why I had to leave Sloane. She was always there, ready to help me. Maybe too much. Plus, I was breaking her heart.”

Carter looked over Matt’s shoulder, out the roadhouse window to the vast expanse of desert beyond them. So big, so empty. So—lonely. That was how he’d felt most of the time. Especially in the early days. Now, while he still wasn’t better, he could see clearly enough to make distinctions about the reality of his situation. It wasn’t great, but with another year or so in therapy it would improve. That was what he was aiming for, anyway.

“Anyway, I’m hoping that you can give me something to do for a while.”

They were sitting in a corner booth at the Forgeburn Roadhouse, Matt drinking a beer, Carter drinking fizzy water. Booze had become a real problem in the last year. So had drugs. And while that was part of his past now, since falling off the wagon meant getting kicked out of the program, there’d been a few times he’d come close. But so far he hadn’t indulged in those things since he’d left Sloane.

What was the point? Getting drunk only drove him deeper into depression. And getting high, while it may have caused him to forget momentarily, always sent him crashing back to reality, usually feeling worse than he’d felt before. It was a horrible feeling, always knowing how close to the edge he was and afraid of what might push him over.

“I don’t come with a lot of guarantees these days, but I’m still a damned good doctor. That’s probably the only thing I can count on.”

“It’s what I’m counting on too, Carter.”

“Anyway, if you still think I’m worth taking a chance on, I’m yours until I get the call from The Recovery Project. And, like I mentioned when I called you last week, if I graduate from the program and you want me back, I’ll be here.”

No, it wasn’t general surgery. But he wasn’t up to that yet. Too many things to go wrong. Too many lives depending on his wavy blade. But being a good old country doctor would keep him in the profession and, hopefully, keep him out of trouble.

“Do you really think you can make the transition from being a surgeon to being a GP?”

“There are a lot of things in my life I have to change—including my attitude. And while in the long term I don’t know how well I’ll adjust to life outside the OR, in the short term I know I can’t go back to that right now. Maybe never again. I don’t know yet.”

“You’ve come a long way,” Matt said, tilting his mug back for the last sip of beer. “Last time I saw you, you were yelling at Sloane because you couldn’t find your boots. It was pretty intense.”

“She took a lot of abuse from me.”

That was something he couldn’t forgive in himself. He’d loved that woman more than life itself, but because she’d always been there she’d become the target for all his pent-up emotions. The anger would build up in him, and Sloane would be the one who took the impact of it.

“And it kept on getting worse.”

“Any chance you two could get back together?”

Carter shook his head. “PTSD is a life sentence. I may learn how to cope with it, even divert it, but there’s never going to be a time when it’s not waiting just below the surface. I can’t take the risk of hurting her more than I already have.”

“But you feel confident you can take on the part of my practice we’ve discussed? Because I can’t keep an eye on you all the time. Like I told you before, my practice is growing, and I have a family to take care of. You’re like a brother to me, but I can’t look over your shoulder every minute of every day. So I need to feel good about turning you loose on the tourists, because that whole part of my practice can be a problem. You won’t be treating permanent patients but rather patients who are here for only a few days. You won’t have medical histories on them, and you might run into pre-existing conditions that they haven’t divulged to you. There’ll be all kinds of obstacles in taking on the tourist segment of my practice, and everything’s going to be up to you. I’ll be around if you need me, but for the most part you’ll be on your own. Can you manage that?”

Doctor to the tourists in the many resorts near Forgeburn, Utah. He’d never been a GP, so it was going to be a challenge. But since he never backed down from a challenge this would probably work for him. He hoped so. Because he was ready to turn his life around. This living from moment to moment was killing him.

“My counselors think I can, or they wouldn’t have sent that recommendation to you.”

“But what do you think, Carter?”

“That I’m going to try my damnedest. Like I’ve told you already, I can’t predict anything—can’t even make any solid promises. But I want this to work, Matt. For you, because I owe you my life. And for me, because I want some kind of life back. A lot of people with PTSD don’t get the opportunity you’re giving me, and I don’t want to mess that up.”

“And what about Sloane? I know you two aren’t together now, but have you talked to her about any of this?”

“No. The less involvement she has with me, the better it is for her.”

That was the half-truth he always used to convince himself he’d done the right thing in leaving her. She’d taken care of him in the early days. Or tried, when he’d let her. She’d been patient and kind. But he’d given up. Backed away. He hadn’t left her any choice other than to accept what he’d done—which was to leave.

“After she waited all those years for you, you’re not going to try and get her back? Because, next to my Ellie, Sloane is probably the best woman I’ve ever known. I can’t believe you can simply walk away from her the way you did and never look back.”

“Oh, I look back—but all I can see are regrets. Mine. Hers. I can’t go back, Matt. She deserves better than that. Better than me.”

“And she’s told you that?”

No, she had not. But it was what he’d known almost from his first day home.

“I was beating her down. You could see it in her. Day by day, piece by piece, I was taking everything she had away from her. I mean, she’s a brilliant heart surgeon, and such a good person, but I was sucking the life out of her and I hated that. But for Sloane it was like the poet Poe said in his Annabelle Lee: ‘And this maiden she lived with no other thought than to love and be loved by me.’ That’s all she wanted, Matt. To love me and have me love her back. But it wasn’t in me anymore.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Me too—in more ways than I probably even know.”

And in so many ways that he did know. Ways that kept him awake at night. Ways that reduced him to tears when his thoughts wouldn’t be shut off.

“So, like I said, she’s better off without me.”

“And you? Are you better off without her?”

“It doesn’t matter, as long as she’s not part of my life anymore.”

“What is your life, Carter? Other than the job I’m giving you here, what is your life?”

“Damned if I know. But when I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know.”

“That bad?” Matt asked.

“That bad,” he said in earnest. “Hopefully getting better, though.”

“Because of your bear rescue program?”

Carter smiled. “Because of what I hope I can do to make my little part of the program successful.”

“Well, that’s the attitude I’m looking for.” Matt extended his hand across the table to Carter. “So, welcome to Forgeburn’s only medical practice.”

Carter took Matt’s hand, wondering if this was too much, too soon. He was still on a high from the success he’d seen in the first part of his recovery program, but would that be enough to the job that needed to be done here?

For a while he’d ridden the crest of the self-confidence wave, but now he was underneath it. That was PTSD, though, wasn’t it? Always trying to rob you of yourself. Always chipping away at the bits and pieces that seemed to be moving forward.

There was a time when his normal reaction would have been to say, I’ve got this. Now, though, he wasn’t sure what he had—and that was what scared him. Before PTSD, nothing ever had. Now, almost everything did.