From Doctor...to Daddy / When the Cowboy Said ''I Do''

Moving around his desk, she automatically picked up his empty coffee cup and tossed it into the waste can. “I’ll be away from my desk for a little while. I’m meeting a friend in town for lunch, then taking care of last-minute ads with downtown businesses.”

After a few silent beats, he said huskily, “You’re evading again.”

Turning on her heel to face him, she said, “I’m just evading for now.”

“All right.”

“I can bring you a sandwich from the deli before I leave.”

“I’m not hungry. If I want something later, I’ll go get it.”

“You’re acting like a macho male.”

He gave a shrug. “What makes you think I’m not?

You’re my receptionist, Erika, not my nurse. You’re not getting paid to hover.”

She knew the expression on her face gave away the hurt she felt at his words, and she knew what she had to do. Leave.

Turning away quickly so he couldn’t see her expression, she said, “I’ll buzz you when I’m back.”

On her way out of his office, she thought he called her name.

She just kept walking.

After Erika returned from her appointments in town, the late afternoon turned busy. The phone rang, with one of the guests calling in to say she thought she had the stomach flu. Erika told her to come right down. While Dillon was examining her, another guest called. He’d sprained his ankle while golfing. A newly checked-in patron had wrenched her back while pulling her suitcase. And so it went. It was just one of those days and as Dillon came to the reception area after his last appointment, he looked pale. From his furrowed brow and the lines around his eyes, Erika could tell he was in pain. She hated seeing him like this. But he’d made clear that he didn’t want her help.

Ruthann had arrived so Dillon didn’t linger, just left the infirmary, telling Erika he’d see her tomorrow.

He should stay in bed tomorrow and let himself heal, she thought to herself. But Dillon obviously didn’t want advice on what was good for him and what wasn’t.

Erika’s own work kept her tied to her computer for a while longer. Yet she couldn’t take her mind off of Dillon—the way he’d looked when he left, how he’d hidden his symptoms from his patients all afternoon.

Since she was planning Frontier Days, she’d been given a card key to take the elevator to the penthouse floor, in addition to all the other floors. Closer to the event, she’d be posting signs and erecting billboards advertising all aspects of the festival. The resort’s aim wasn’t only to attract tourists to Thunder Canyon and the lodge, but to encourage their guests to attend all the activities in town, supporting businesses there, encouraging guests to return the following year.

Erika thought about the card key. She could just go up to Dillon’s suite and knock on his door. If he didn’t answer, he was probably resting and she’d just leave again. Or maybe not. She might try to phone him from outside the suite just to make sure he was okay.

Her mother was used to her working late so a few more minutes wouldn’t matter. Dillon’s health was important to her, though she didn’t examine all the reasons why too closely.

The plush carpeting in the hall muffled her footsteps as she approached his door. Wrought-iron sconces with their candlelight bulbs on the wall lit her way. Outside his door, she hesitated and knocked.

When she heard a muffled, “Just a minute,” from inside, she was relieved.

He opened the door and looked astonished to see her. “Erika! I was expecting room service.”

“Sorry, I’m empty-handed,” she joked.

He was wearing a gray sweatshirt and sweatpants and didn’t look much better than when he’d left downstairs. “Is something wrong? Did you need something?”

“I was worried about you,” she blurted out. “You looked terrible when you left. The truth is you don’t look much better right now.”

“Oh, thanks. That’s great for the ego.” Amusement danced in his eyes, along with the pain he must be feeling. “Come on in. I really do need to sit down,” he said with a loud exhale of breath.

He crossed to the living room and sank down onto the sofa.

She hurried to him and sat beside him. “You really should go to the emergency room, Dillon.”

“Let’s not go over this again. As soon as room service comes, I’ll eat dinner, get a shower, ice my ribs and go to sleep for the night.”

She should leave. She really should. But sitting next to him on the sofa like this, her arm lodged against his, her knee almost brushing his, she felt the urge to stay, even though she knew she couldn’t.

“How long ago did you call room service?”

“Only about ten minutes. It could be a little while until they arrive if they’re busy.”

Their gazes connected … held. Erika could see Dillon’s beard stubble. She wanted to smooth her hand over his jaw and comfort him in some way.

“Tell me about Scott Spencerman,” he requested.

That was the last thing she’d expected him to say. “Why?”

“Because your experience with him affected your life and I’d like to understand.”

“I don’t talk about Scott. He’s in my past.”

“Is he? Or is he the reason you don’t want to think about getting closer to me?”

Her heart ticked off a few vibrating seconds until she replied, “There are lots of reasons why I shouldn’t get closer to you.”

“I know. There are a lot of reasons why I shouldn’t get close to you, too. But here we are. So tell me about him.”

Sitting beside Dillon like this on his sofa felt intimate, though Erika wasn’t sure why. They were just sitting there talking, fully dressed, with no intention of doing anything else. Maybe it was the subject matter. Maybe it was Dillon’s voice, gravelly and gentle and encouraging.

After taking in a deep breath, she blew it out and stared straight head. “I was young and naive,” she murmured. “After high school, I waitressed, took a couple of business courses and finally ended up in that real-estate office. I was itchy for something else, not sure what I wanted, still living with my mother. I wasn’t … I didn’t …” She cast Dillon a sideways glance, intending to look away again. But his gaze locked to hers.

“I didn’t sleep around,” she finally said bluntly. “I dated, but not for sex. I was looking for somebody special. When I met the right person and we fell in love, then sex would mean something. Scott seemed to be everything I’d ever wanted. I wasn’t experienced enough to understand he never intended to stay in Thunder Canyon. More importantly, he never intended to take me with him if he didn’t. When he talked about Rome and Singapore and Cancun, I thought in the future we’d go there together as a couple … as a married couple. I didn’t see the warning signs. He’d only see me on certain nights at certain times. I just figured he had calls to make and business to take care of. It wasn’t until afterward I found out he was also dating someone in Bozeman. Everyone gossiped about me, but no one told me the truth.”

Dillon took her hand in his. “Would you have wanted to see the truth? Would you have listened?”

No one had ever asked her that question. She gave it a long moment of thought. “Maybe not. But when I became pregnant and Scott told me he never wanted to get serious, that he wasn’t just dating me, that he’d be leaving soon, I didn’t see it coming. I was so foolish,” she said shaking her head.

“You were young without much experience with men.”

“I was stupid. But Emilia is the wonderful result. She’s helped me grow up and I love her to pieces. Now I’m just grateful I have her and I try to forget the rest.”

“How often do you hear from him?”

“Never. He’s not in our lives. When he left, he made it clear he wanted nothing else to do with me, or a baby.”

“He doesn’t pay child support?”

“When I was out of work after Emilia’s delivery, I considered trying to find him. But if he paid child support, I’m afraid he’d want something in return. If he doesn’t care about his daughter, I don’t want him anywhere near her. I’ll raise her on my own.”

“Does he know he has a daughter?”

“No. But if she wants to search for him one day, I’ll help her. For now, it’s just the two of us and that’s okay. We’ve got a good life.”

“I can’t imagine a man wanting nothing to do with his child,” Dillon murmured.

“That’s because you’re a different kind of man,” Erika said, part of her knowing it, part of her afraid to believe it. That pained expression was back in Dillon’s eyes … as if he didn’t agree with her assessment. But he lifted their hands, studied their entwined fingers and leaned a little closer to her.

She lifted her chin, anticipating his kiss, ready to feel his arms around her again.

He enfolded her in his arms, began a heart-tripping kiss, but then pulled away. “You’ve had a raw deal once and I don’t want that to happen again. In a few weeks, I’ll be leaving. We both need to remember that.”

The problem was she still wanted him to kiss her, even though she knew he’d be leaving. Was she willing to risk falling in love with Dillon Traub—and having her heart broken all over again if she did?

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