Marrying Dr Maverick

“I asked you to marry me. I know you think I’m absolutely crazy.”

“No…” she started and didn’t know quite how to finish or where to go from there.

“This isn’t a joke, Jazzy. I’m not out of my mind. Really. But I need to solve this problem with my father. The only way he’s going to let me in on the practice, the only way he’s going to rest and stop wearing himself down, is if I’m really settled. I have to give him what he wants.”

“I don’t understand,” she said very quietly.

“He wants me to have a wife, so I need a wife. The way we’ve worked together the past week, I just know you’d be perfect.”

“So you really do want me to marry you?”

“It wouldn’t be a real marriage.”

When he said those words, she found herself amazingly disappointed. How stupid was that?

* * *

MONTANA MAVERICKS: RUST CREEK COWBOYS Better saddle up. It’s going to be a bumpy ride!

Marrying

Dr Maverick

Karen Rose Smith

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Award-winning and bestselling author KAREN ROSE SMITH’s plots are all about emotion. She began writing in her early teens, when she listened to music and created stories to accompany the songs. An only child, she spent a lot of time in her imagination and with books—Nancy Drew, Zane Grey, The Black Stallion and Anne of Green Gables. She dreamed of brothers and sisters and a big family such as the ones her mother and father came from. This is the root of her plotlines, which include small communities and family relationships as part of everyday living. Residing in Pennsylvania with her husband and three cats, she welcomes interaction with readers on Facebook, Twitter @karenrosesmith and through her website, www.karenrosesmith.com, where they can sign up for her newsletter.

To my family and friends who love animals as much as

I do—my husband Steve, my son Ken, Suzanne, Sydney,

Liz, Jane, Ryan, Heather, Abby, Sophie, Chris. Special

thanks to my pet sitter, Barb, whose expertise allows

me to leave home with a free heart.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

Chapter One

Brooks Smith rapped firmly on the ranch-house door, scanning the all-too-familiar property in the dusk.

His dad didn’t answer right away, and Brooks thought about going around back to the veterinary clinic, but then he heard footsteps and waited, bracing himself for this conversation.

After his father opened the door, he looked Brooks over, from the beard stubble that seemed to be ever present since the flood to his mud-covered boots. Tending to large animals required trekking through fields sometimes.

“You don’t usually come calling on a Tuesday night. Run into a problem you need me for?”

Barrett Smith was a barrel-chested man with gray hair and ruddy cheeks. At six-two, Brooks topped him by a couple of inches. The elder Smith had put on another ten pounds over the past year, and Brooks realized he should have been concerned about that before today.

There was challenge in his dad’s tone as there had been since they’d parted ways. But as a doctor with four years of practice under his belt, Brooks didn’t ask for his dad’s advice on animal care or frankly anything else these days.

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

Brooks entered the living room where he’d played as a child. The Navajo rugs were worn now, the floor scuffed.

“I only have a few minutes,” his father warned him. “I haven’t fed the horses yet.”

“I’ll get straight to the point, then.” Brooks swiped off his Stetson and ran his hand through his hair, knowing this conversation was going to get sticky. “I ran into Charlie Hartzell at the General Store.”

His father avoided his gaze. “So?”

“He told me that when he stopped by over the weekend, you weren’t doing too well.”

“I don’t know what he’s talking about,” his dad muttered, not meeting Brooks’s eyes.

“He said you carried a pail of oats to the barn and you were looking winded and pale. You dropped the bucket and almost passed out.”

“Anybody can have an accident. After I drank a little water, I was fine.”

Not so true according to Charlie, Brooks thought. His dad’s longtime friend had stayed another hour to make sure Barrett wasn’t going to keel over.

“You’re working too hard,” Brooks insisted. “If you’d let me take over the practice, you could retire, take care of the horses in the barn and help out as you want.”

“Nothing has changed,” Barrett said angrily. “You still show no sign of settling down.”

This was an old argument, one that had started after Lynnette had broken their engagement right before Brooks had earned his degree in veterinary medicine from Colorado State. That long-ago night, his father had wanted to discuss it with him, but with Brooks’s pride stinging, he’d asked his dad to drop it. Barrett hadn’t. Frustrated, his father had blown his top, which wasn’t unusual. What was unusual was his warning and threat—he’d never retire and turn his practice over to Brooks until his son found a woman who would stick by him and build a house on the land his grandmother had left him.

Sure enough...

“Your grandmama’s land is still sitting there with no signs of a foundation,” his dad went on. “She wanted you to have roots, too. That’s why she left it to you. Until you get married and at least think about having kids, I can handle my own practice just fine. And you should butt out.”

He could rise to the bait. He could argue with his father as he’d done before. But he didn’t want his dad’s blood pressure to go any higher so he stuck to being reasonable. “You can issue an ultimatum if you want, but this isn’t about me. It’s about you. You can’t keep working the hours you’ve been working since the flood. You’re probably not eating properly, grabbing donuts at Daisy’s and potato chips at the General Store.”

“Are you keeping track of what I buy where?”

“Of course not. I’m worried about you.”

“Well, don’t be. Worry about yourself. Worry about the life you don’t have.”

“I have a life, Dad. I’m living it my way.”

“Yeah, well, twenty years from now you just tell me how that went. I’m going out back. You can see yourself out.”

As his father turned to leave, Brooks knew this conversation had been useless. He knew he probably shouldn’t even have come. He had to find a way to make his father wake up to the reality of his deteriorating health. He would...one way or another.

* * *

Jasmine Cates—“Jazzy” to her friends and family—stood outside the Ace in the Hole, Rust Creek Falls’ lone bar, staring up at the wood-burned sign. She glanced around at the almost deserted street, hoping she’d catch sight of her friend Cecilia, who was tied up at a community meeting. They were supposed to meet here.

On the north side of town, the Ace in the Hole hadn’t been touched by the devastating July flood, but Jazzy didn’t know if she felt comfortable walking into the place alone. It was a rough and rowdy cowboy hangout, a place single guys gathered to relax. But when they relaxed, all hell could break loose. She’d heard about occasional rumbles and bar fights here.

Feeling as if she’d scrubbed herself raw from her shower at Strickland’s Boarding House, attempting to wash off the mud from a disastrous date, she passed the old-fashioned hitching post out front and stared up at the oversize playing card—an ace of hearts—that blinked in red neon over the door. After she climbed two rough-hewn wooden steps, Jazzy opened the old screen door with its rusty hinges and let it slap behind her. A country tune poured from a jukebox. Booths lined the outer walls while wooden tables with ladder-back chairs were scattered across the plank flooring around a small dance floor. Jazzy glimpsed pool tables in the far back. Old West photos as well as those from local ranches hung on the walls. A wooden bar was situated on the right side of the establishment crowded with about a dozen bar stools, and a mirrored wall reflected the rows of glass bottles.

Cowboys and ranch hands filled the tables, and a few gave her glances that said they might be interested in talking...or more. Jazzy quickly glanced toward the bar. There was one bar stool open and it was next to—

Wasn’t that Dr. Brooks Smith? She hadn’t officially met him, but in her volunteer work, helping ranch owners clean up, paint and repair, she’d caught sight of him now and then as he tended to their animals. She’d liked the way he’d handled a horse that’d been injured. He’d been respectful of the animal and downright kind.

Decision made, she crossed to the bar and settled on the stool beside him. Brooks had that sexy, scruffy look tonight. He was tall and lean and broad-shouldered. Usually he wore a smile for anyone he came in contact with, but now his expression was granitelike, and his hands were balled into fists. It didn’t even look like he’d touched his beer.

As if sensing her regard, and maybe her curiosity, he turned toward her. Their gazes met and there was intensity in his brown eyes that told her he’d been thinking about something very serious. His gaze swept over her blond hair, snap-button blouse and jeans, and that intensity shifted into male appreciation.

“You might need a bodyguard tonight,” he drawled. “You’re the only woman in the place.”

He could be her bodyguard anytime. She quickly banished that thought. Hadn’t she heard somewhere that he didn’t date much? Love gone wrong in his romantic history?

“I’m meeting a friend.” She stuck out her hand. “You’re Brooks Smith. I’m Jazzy Cates. I’ve seen you around the ranches.”

He studied her again. “You’re one of the volunteers from Thunder Canyon.”

“I am,” she said with a smile, glad he’d recognized her.

When he took her hand to shake it, she felt tingles up her arm. That couldn’t be, could it? She’d almost been engaged to a man and hadn’t felt tingles like that. Brooks’s grip was strong and firm, his hand warm, and when he took it away, she felt...odd.

“Everyone in town appreciates the help,” he said.

“Rust Creek Falls is a tight-knit community. I heard stories about what happened after the flood. Everyone shared what was in their freezers so no one would go hungry.”

Brooks nodded. “The community spirit was stoked by Collin Traub and the way he pulled everyone together.”

“I heard about his proposal to Willa Christensen on Main Street but I didn’t see it myself.”

Brooks’s eyes darkened at her mention of a proposal, and she wondered why.

“He and Willa seem happy” was all Brooks said.

So the man didn’t gossip. She liked that. She liked a lot about him. Compared to the cowboy she’d been out with earlier tonight—

A high-energy country tune played on the jukebox and snagged their attention for a moment. Jazzy asked, “Do you come here often?”

“Living and mostly working in Kalispell, I don’t usually have the time. But I’ll meet a friend here now and then.”

Kalispell was about twenty miles away, the go-to town for everything anyone in Rust Creek Falls needed and couldn’t find in their small town. “So you have a practice in Kalispell?”

“I work with a group practice there. We were called in to help here because my dad couldn’t handle it all.”

She’d heard Brooks’s father had a practice in Rust Creek Falls and had assumed father and son worked together. Her curiosity was aroused. She certainly knew about family complications. “I guess you’re not needed here as much now since the town’s getting back on its feet.”

“Not as much. But there are still animals recovering from injuries during the flood and afterward. How about you? Are you still cleaning out mud from homes that had water damage?”

“Yep, but I’m working at the elementary school, too.”

“That’s right, I remember now. You came with Dean Pritchett’s group.”

“Dean’s been a friend of our family for years. He was one of the first to volunteer to help.”

“How long can you be away from Thunder Canyon?”

“I’m not sure.” Because Brooks was a stranger, she found herself saying what she couldn’t to those closest to her. “My job was...static. I need a business degree to get a promotion and I’ve been saving for that. I came here to help, but I also came to escape my family. And...I needed a change.”

“I can understand that,” Brooks said with a nod. “But surely they miss you back home, and a woman like you—”

“A woman like me?”

“I’d think you’d have someone special back there.”

She thought about Griff Wellington and the proposal he’d wanted to make and the proposal she’d avoided by breaking off their relationship. Her family had tried to convince her she should marry him, but something inside her had told her she’d known better. Griff had been hurt and she hated that. But she couldn’t tie them both to a relationship she’d known wasn’t right.

Maybe it was Brooks’s easy way; maybe it was the interest in his eyes; maybe it was the way he listened, but she admitted, “No one special. In fact, I had a date tonight before I ended up here.”

“Something about that doesn’t sound right. If you had a date, why isn’t he here with you?”

“He’s a calf roper.”

Brooks leaned a little closer to hear her above the music. His shoulder brushed hers and she felt heat other places besides there. “What does that have to do with your date?”

“That was the date.”

Brooks pushed his Stetson higher on his head with his forefinger. “What?”

“Calf-roping. He thought it would be fun if he showed me how he did it. That would have been fine, but then he wanted me to do it. Yes, I ride. Yes, I love horses. But I’d never calf-roped before and so I tried it. There was mud all over the place and I slipped and fell and I was covered with mud from head to toe.”

Brooks was laughing by then, a deep, hearty laugh that seemed to echo through her. She liked the fact she could make him laugh. Genially, she bumped his arm. “It wasn’t so funny when it was happening.”

He gave her a crooked smile that said he was a little bit sorry he laughed, but not much. “Whatever gave him the impression you’d like to try that out?”

“I have no clue, except I did tell him I like horses. I did try to be interested in what he did, and I asked him questions about it.”

“This was a first date?” Brooks guessed.

“It was the last date,” Jazzy responded.

“Not the last date ever.”

She sighed. “Probably not.”

Was he thinking of asking her out? Or were they just flirting? With that twinkle in his eyes, she imagined he could flirt with the best of them if he really wanted to.

“So you came here to meet a friend and hash out everything that’s happened,” he concluded.

“My gosh, a guy who understands women!”

He laughed again. “No, not so well.”

She wondered what that meant. “When I’m at home, sometimes I talk it all out with my sisters.”

“How many do you have?”

“I have four sisters, a brother and parents who think they know what’s best for me.”

“You’re lucky,” Brooks said.

“Lucky?”

“Yep. I’m the only one. And I lost my mom a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “Water under the bridge.”

But something in his tone said that it wasn’t, so she asked, “Are you close to your dad?”

“He’s the reason I stopped in here tonight.”

“To meet him?”

“Nope.” He hesitated, then added, “We had another argument.”

“Another?”

Brooks paused again before saying, “My dad’s not taking care of himself, and I can’t give him what he wants most.”

In her family, Jazzy usually said what she thought, and most of the time, no one heard her. But now she asked, “And what’s that?”

“He wants me to marry, and I’ll never do that.”

Whoa! She wanted to ask that all-important question—why?—but they’d just officially met and she knew better than to probe too much. She hated when her family did that.

Her questions must have led Brooks to think he could ask some of his own because he leaned toward her again. This time his face was very close to hers as he inquired, “So what was the job you left?”

After a heavy sigh, she admitted, “I was a glorified secretary.”

“A secretary,” he murmured, studying her. “How long are you staying in Rust Creek Falls?”

“I’ve already been in town for a while, so I guess I’ll have to go back soon. I work for Thunder Canyon Resort. I’m in the pool of assistants who handle everything to do about skiing. I had a lot of vacation time built up but that’s gone now. I don’t want to use all my savings because I want to earn my degree. Someday I’m going to own a ranch and run a non-profit organization to rescue horses.”

Brooks leaned away again and really assessed her as if he was trying to read every thought in her head, as if he was trying to decide if what she’d told him was really true. Of course it was true. A rescue ranch had been a burning goal for a while.

“How did you get involved in rescuing horses?”

“I help out a friend who does it.”

Finally, Brooks took a few long swigs of his beer and then set down his glass. He looked at it and then grimaced. “I didn’t even offer to buy you a drink. What would you like?”

“A beer would be fine.”

Brooks waved down the bartender and soon Jazzy was rolling her finger around the foam on the rim of her glass. This felt like a date, though it wasn’t. This felt...nice.

The music on the jukebox had stopped for the moment, and she listened to the chatter of voices, the clink of glasses and bang of a dish as a waitress set a burger in front of a cowboy.

Finally, as if Brooks had come to some conclusion, he swiveled on his stool and faced her. “If you had a job in Rust Creek Falls, would you stay longer?”

She had no idea where this was going since the town had few jobs to spare, but she told him the truth. “I might.”

“How would you like to come work for me as my secretary and assistant?”

“I don’t understand. You said you work for the vet practice in Kalispell.”

“I made a decision tonight. There’s only one way to keep my father from running himself into the ground, and that’s to take some business away from him. If I open an office here in Rust Creek Falls, I can take the load off my father and show him at the same time that he can feel confident handing down his practice to me, whether I marry or not.”

She admired what Brooks wanted to do for his father. Would working for him move her life forward? She could learn a lot from him.

“Can I think about it, at least until tomorrow?”

“Sure. In fact, take a couple of days. Why don’t you come along with me on my appointments to get a feel for my practice day after tomorrow? I’m going to have loose ends to tie up in Kalispell, but then you and I can spend the day together and you can see what my practice will involve.”

When she looked into Brooks’s dark eyes, she felt something deep in her being. In that moment, the world seemed to drop away.

They might have gazed into each other’s eyes like that all night except—

Cecilia Clifton was suddenly standing beside Jazzy saying, “You should have come to the meeting. The town’s making plans for the holidays.” When her gaze fell on Brooks, she stopped and said a breathy “Hi.”

Yes, Brooks could take a woman’s breath away. Jazzy thought again about his offer. “I’d like to shadow you for a day and see what you do.”

Brooks smiled and so did she. She had a feeling the day after tomorrow was going to be a day to remember.

Chapter Two

Two days later, Brooks pulled his truck to a stop in front of Strickland’s Boarding House, a four-story ramshackle Victorian. Its once-purple paint had faded to a lavender-gray. Cowboys on the rodeo circuit had bunked here over the years, but right now, many of the folks from Thunder Canyon who had come to help were staying here. Melba and Old Gene Strickland cared about their guests in an old-fashioned family way.

He switched off his ignition, thinking he must have been crazy to ask Jazzy Cates to work for him. He really knew nothing about her except what she’d told him. He’d followed his gut instinct as he often did in his work. But that didn’t mean he was right. After all, he’d been all wrong about Lynnette. He’d thought she was the type of woman who understood fidelity and loyalty and standing by her man. But he’d been so wrong.

He knew, however, he was right about opening the local practice and taking some of the workload from his father. After all, it was for the older man’s best interests. Still...asking Jazzy to become involved in that undertaking—

She was so pretty with that blond hair and those blue eyes. When he’d looked into those eyes, he’d felt a stirring that had practically startled him. It had been a very long time since a woman caused that reaction. However, if he hired her on, he’d have to forget about her natural prettiness and any attraction zinging between them. He’d be her employer and he’d have to fix his mind on the fact that she was just a Girl Friday who was going to help him, maybe only temporarily. She might hightail it back to Thunder Canyon sooner than he expected. After all, Lynnette hadn’t wanted to live in a small town like Rust Creek Falls. How many women did?

The wooden steps leading to the rambling porch creaked under his boots. He opened the front door with its glass panel and lace curtain and caught the scent of something sweet baking. Forgetting all about Melba’s well-deserved reputation as a terrific baker, he’d picked up donuts and coffee at Daisy’s Donuts, never thinking Jazzy might have had breakfast already.

Jazzy had told him the number of her room—2D, on the second floor. He climbed the steps to the second floor and strode down the hall to her room. He gave a double knock on her door and waited. Maybe she’d forgotten all about going with him today. Maybe she wasn’t an early riser. Maybe she was down at breakfast. Maybe she’d decided going along with him today was tantamount to calf-roping!

She opened the door before he could push aside the flap of his denim jacket and stuff one hand in his jeans’ pocket. She was wearing an outfit similar to what she’d had on the other night, a snap-button, long-sleeve blouse and skinny blue jeans that molded to her legs. He quickly brought his gaze up to her face.

“I was running a little late,” she said breathlessly, “but I’m ready.”

She’d tied her wavy blond hair in a ponytail. Her bangs straggled over her brow. Forgetting she was pretty might be a little hard to do. “I brought donuts and coffee from Daisy’s if you’re interested.”

“Oh, I’m interested.”

They couldn’t seem to look away from each other and her words seemed to have an underlying meaning. No. No underlying meaning. He just hadn’t dated a woman in a very long time. He was reading too much into cornflower-blue eyes that could make a man lose his focus.

Brooks never lost his focus. Not since his mother had died. Not during his years at Colorado State. Not during his engagement. His focus was the reason his engagement had gone south.