’Tis the season for second chances...and secrets!

Forget the mistletoe maneuvers. Kelly Rasmussen isn’t planning on having that reunion kiss with Dr. Caleb Buchanan any time soon. Things had long ago gone south for these former high school sweethearts. Except for that one night six years ago—which resulted in an explosive secret Kelly’s kept till this very day.

Now career and family have brought them both back to Weaver, Wyoming. Their unavoidable clashes—and instant chemistry—make them realize this town isn’t big enough for the two of them. Or three of them—counting Kelly’s son. Because there’s something about that little boy... For one thing, he has Caleb’s eyes...

“If you’re gonna hate me anyway—”

She barely had a chance to frown before his mouth hit hers.

She went rigid with shock, yanking away. But only two inches away. Maybe three. Just far enough to stare into his dark eyes while her chest heaved.

Then his mouth was on hers again, and she wasn’t sure if she’d moved first, or if it had been him.

But what did it really matter?

They were once more in the shadows on the side of the high school gym, Caleb’s weight pressing into her while his hands raced down her sides, delving beneath her short leather jacket. She felt devoured by his kiss.

Why was it always that way? His lips on hers, and she’d forget all rhyme or reason. She’d forget every single thing but the taste of him, the smell of him, the weight of—

A burst of laughter accosted them and they both pulled apart. It was hard to tell who was breathing harder.

“Some things don’t change, eh, Caleb?”

Kelly’s cheeks burned. The sooner she and Tyler could get back home to Idaho Falls, the better off they all would be.

A Child Under His Tree

Allison Leigh

www.millsandboon.co.uk

A frequent name on bestseller lists, ALLISON LEIGH’S high point as a writer is hearing from readers that they laughed, cried or lost sleep while reading her books. She credits her family with great patience for the time she’s parked at her computer, and for blessing her with the kind of love she wants her readers to share with the characters living in the pages of her books. Contact her at www.allisonleigh.com.

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For sweet baby David Rae—born the same day I began this story—his parents and his “Glama,” who is my dearest and oldest friend.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

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

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

Six years ago

“You’re pregnant?”

Startled, Kelly hid her hand down by her side, but it was too late. Her mother had already seen the distinctive plastic stick and snatched it out of her hand.

This is what Kelly got for not waiting until she was back at work on Monday to take the test. But she’d been too anxious. Too worried to wait through the weekend, to wait another two days when she already knew.

After a glance at the stick, where a huge blue plus sign broadcast the results, her mother pitched the test into the faded pink trash can that had been in Kelly’s room since she’d been ten. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”

She wished she’d waited until Monday, that’s what she had to say.

She wisely kept the sarcastic thought to herself. Kelly was twenty-three. Old enough to deal with the consequences of her actions, but not old enough to deal with her mother’s reaction.

Evidently unsatisfied with Kelly’s silence, her mom grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her slightly. “Well? At the very least, tell me it’s the Buchanan boy’s baby.”

Kelly looked away from her mother’s face. “Why? Caleb and I broke up two years ago.” She was only buying time, though. Because she knew why.

Her mother made a disgusted sound and let her go. “Because you’ll be set for life, obviously!” She propped her hands on her skinny hips. “He’ll marry you. Even when it doesn’t work out, you’ll be taken care of. Those people take care of their own. Always have. Always will.”

Those people.

Kelly felt nauseated. More from her mother’s words than from the baby inside her that hadn’t even existed five weeks ago. By those people, her mother meant anyone connected to the wealthy Clay family. The family who possessed everything that Georgette and Kelly Rasmussen did not.

Money. Plentiful land. Education. Class.

Georgette envied everything they possessed, even as she seemed to hate them for it.

“I don’t want to marry Caleb.”

Her mother made another disgusted sound. “Since when?”

Since he dumped me more than two years ago? Again, Kelly kept that answer to herself. She was over Caleb Buchanan. Had been for a long while now. Sleeping with him thirty-four days ago had been her way of proving it. Convoluted thinking, perhaps, but it was true, nevertheless. Which only seemed to confirm that the Rasmussen nut didn’t fall far from the tree.

“You’ll marry that boy,” her mother said into the silence. She pointed her finger at Kelly’s face. “You’re not going to get stuck raising a baby on your own the way I was. You’ll marry him. He’ll provide for you both.” Her eyes narrowed, and she smiled tightly. “They’ll provide for all of us.”

“You hated when I was dating him when we were teenagers! Now you’re all for me marrying him?” Kelly wanted to throw herself on the twin bed that also hadn’t changed since she was ten and pull the pillows over her head.

“I knew you’d mess it up. Same as I did when I was that age.” Again the disgusted sound from her mother, accompanied by a hand swiping dismissively through the air. “And you did. He went off and found someone else.”

Someone better. That’s what her mom had said at the time.

Kelly pushed away the hurtful memory and put the width of the twin bed between them. “Exactly.” She didn’t throw herself on the bed. She wasn’t a teenager anymore. She was an adult. With a baby inside her. “He found someone else. A brilliant premed student just like him.” She left out the part that Caleb had also broken up with that woman. “Why on earth would you think this baby is his, anyway?”

“He was home here in Weaver for Christmas. If not his, then whose? God knows you’re not much of a catch. Only boy who ever came sniffing around for you was that Buchanan kid.”

“Ever think that’s because I didn’t want boys coming around here to meet you?” She couldn’t believe the words came out, even if they were true.

“All right, then,” Georgette challenged. “Whose baby is it?”

Kelly’s eyes stung. She wasn’t a liar by nature.

But she lied. She lied because she wasn’t going to get foisted on Caleb Buchanan just because he and his people took care of their own. She wasn’t going to end up a wife out of his sense of responsibility. Not when she’d been raised by a mother who’d only acted out of responsibility instead of love.

Caleb might have wanted her once, but he’d cast her aside.

Until one night thirty-four days ago when he’d wanted her enough to get naked in the front seat of her pickup truck, just like they’d done back when they were in high school. Back before he’d left her and gone off to college. Back before he’d chosen another woman.

“It was just a guy, Mama. Nobody you know at all.”

The determined brightness in her mother’s eyes dimmed, and she got the same disappointed, dissatisfied, discontented look she’d had all of Kelly’s life. She sank down on the foot of the twin bed as if she couldn’t stand the weight of her own body. “The only chance you had of making something of yourself—snagging a fancy, educated surgeon like that Buchanan—and you take up with some guy just passing through town?”

Her mother was editorializing. Adding details that Kelly had not. Embellishing the story with her own experiences. It wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last. “Caleb has years to go before he’ll be a surgeon! And I don’t need to make someone like him marry me in order to make something of myself, Mama. I’ve got a good job working with Doc Cobb!”

“Sure, answering his phones and putting out the trash. You think that old coot is gonna want his receptionist parading around with a pregnant belly and no ring on her finger? Times may have changed since you were born, but people in this town still expect mamas to be with the daddies. All you’re gonna earn is a lot of gossip and speculation. You ought to have been smarter than to ruin your life the same way I did!”

Kelly stared at her mother and vowed right then and there that she’d make sure her child never heard such hateful words. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

Georgette just snorted, not seeming to notice Kelly pulling out her ancient suitcase from the closet until it lay open on the bed. “What fool thing are you doing now?”

“Packing.” Kelly kept moving, pulling open her top drawer and dumping the contents into the suitcase, quickly followed by the second drawer, and the third and last. She had to push down hard on the suitcase when she closed it to get the lock latched, but she managed.

Georgette was watching her with an annoyed look. “Gonna go chase after the guy, I suppose. Fat lot of good that’ll do.”

Kelly didn’t have a second suitcase. But she had an oversize beach bag that managed to hold several pairs of shoes and her favorite pair of boots. “Why? Is that what you did?” She propped the bulging canvas bag against the faded pink suitcase and went back to the closet again. “Fruitlessly chase after my father?” She snatched two handfuls of hanging clothes from the single wooden bar in her closet. “Is that why you’ve always hated me?”

Her mother answered with a huff. “I’ve always said you had a crazy imagination.”

“Yes.” Kelly draped the clothes over her arm. She was leaving behind stuff, but she was beyond caring. “It’s my imagination that I can count on one hand the times you’ve ever shown a lick of caring for me.”

Georgette’s frown deepened. She’d never welcomed other people’s opinions, and Kelly’s was no different. “Kept a roof over your ungrateful head, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did, Mama.” She awkwardly looped the beach bag strap over her shoulder and wrapped her fingers around the suitcase handle, dragging it off the mattress. It bumped hard against her knee. “You did your duty, that’s for sure.” Tears glazed her eyes. “But I’m not going to raise my baby like that.” She shuffled toward the door with her heavy load precariously balanced.

Georgette followed, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “Go ahead and think you’re not just like your mama. Was a time I thought I wasn’t just like my mama, too. But here you are. Knocked up by some walk-away joe. Just who do you think is going to take you in when they learn you got yourself pregnant?”

Kelly blinked hard and kept going, carefully navigating the creaking steps that she’d pounded up and down all of her life. “I can take care of myself.” She wasn’t going to allow herself to think otherwise. If she did, she’d want to curl up and disappear. And she wouldn’t do that now, not when she had a fledgling life inside her.

Behind her, Georgette gave that I-told-you-so huff of hers. “Guess you proved that, all right.” She followed Kelly right out to the front porch of the small two-story house Georgette had inherited from her mother.

There was a deep ache inside Kelly’s chest. She blamed it on the weight of carrying all of her belongings in one single trip and quickened her pace down the porch steps. The suitcase banged against her leg, and a few hangers slid out of her grasp. “I guess that’s my problem, isn’t it?”

She stepped over the dresses lying in the dirt, aiming blindly for the pickup truck that had been old even when she’d bought it five years earlier with the money she’d earned working at the grocery store. She set down the suitcase long enough to open the door and shove her hangers and beach bag across the threadbare bench seat.

“When you learn you can’t handle your problem, don’t come crawling back to me,” Georgette yelled.

“Don’t worry, Mama.” Her voice was choked. She hefted the suitcase into the truck bed. It landed with a terrible bang, but at least the latches stayed closed. “I won’t be back.”

Georgette wasn’t listening, though. “You’d be better off at least trying to pass off that kid as Buchanan’s baby! Least you’d get some money outta your mistake!”

Kelly’s chest ached even more.

She got behind the wheel, turned the key with a shaking hand until the engine cranked and drove away. When she dared a glance in the rearview mirror, all she saw was the plume of dust kicked up from her tires.

She swiped a hand over her wet cheek. “I won’t be back,” she said through her teeth.

She didn’t know where she was going.

She just knew that anywhere was better than her mother’s house.

But where could she go? She’d been working at Doc Cobb’s for a year now since leaving the grocery store and had saved up some money, but with a baby on the way, she would need to conserve every penny she could.

She braked when she reached the highway and stared down the empty road toward Weaver.

She could find a place to live in town. Keep working for Doc Cobb. He was a pediatrician. Nobody liked babies and children more than her genial boss. But whether Kelly wanted to admit it or not, her mother was right about one thing. Gossip was going to dog her every footstep when it became obvious that she was pregnant and there was no daddy standing by her side. More important than that, though, was the baby. And that same gossip was going to follow her child the same way it had always followed her.

She was not going to repeat her mother’s mistakes.

And she damn sure was not going to beg Caleb Buchanan for one single thing.

She exhaled, wiped her cheeks again, looked down the empty highway one more time and hit the gas.

Chapter One

“Dr. C shouldn’t be too long.” The nurse—a young blonde Kelly didn’t know—smiled as she ushered them into an empty examining room. She winked at Tyler. “Be thinking about what color cast you want this time.” She slid the medical chart she’d started for them into the metal sleeve on the door that she closed as she left them alone.

The door had barely latched before Kelly’s son gave her a plaintive look. “How come I gotta get another cast?”

She dumped her purse and their jackets on the chair wedged in one corner of the room. “Because your wrist still hasn’t healed all the way and you cracked the cast you already have.”

“But—”

“Be glad that you didn’t hurt yourself even more.” She’d seen the X-rays herself on the computer screen just a few minutes ago. Not only had Doc Cobb hired several new faces since Kelly’d last been there, but he’d gotten himself some state-of-the-art equipment, as well. She patted the top of the examining room table. The thin paper covering it crinkled. “Want me to lift you up here, or—”

Tyler didn’t wait for her to finish before he scrambled up onto the high table by himself. Then he stuck out his tongue and stared at the cast circling his right forearm. “Stupid cast,” he grumbled.

She brushed her fingers through his dark hair, pushing the thick strands away from his forehead. He needed a haircut, but there just hadn’t been time enough to fit one in before they’d left Idaho Falls. Not between arranging her vacation days, talking to his kindergarten teacher about his absence and packing up what she thought he’d need during the two weeks she’d allotted to get things settled. She had a day before the funeral, though. She’d get him to the barber before then. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before climbing a tree,” she said calmly.

“Had to climb it,” he argued. “Gunnar did.”

“And you have to do everything that Gunnar does?” She didn’t really expect an answer. Her five-year-old son and his best friend, Gunnar Nielsen, were like two peas in a pod. What one did, the other had to do, as well. Fortunately for Gunnar, he had climbed down the tree, whereas her daredevil son had decided to jump.

Thus, the broken wrist.

“So think twice next time about the way you get out of the tree,” she added.

Tyler was swinging one leg back and forth, looking from the closed door of the small examining room to the sink and counter on the opposite side. “What’s in all those drawers?”

“Bandages for little boys who don’t listen to their mothers when they should.” She tapped her finger pointedly against the crack in his cast then pulled a fresh coloring book out of her oversize purse. If she knew Doc Cobb—and she did, even though it had been nearly six years since she’d last seen him—it would be a good while yet before he made his way to Tyler. Given the nature of the doctor’s pediatric practice, the later in the afternoon the appointments were, the farther behind he was likely to be. “Want to color?”

Tyler scrunched his face and swung his leg a few more times before nodding. She set the thin coloring book on the table beside him and rummaged in her purse again until she found the plastic baggie full of the washable markers he preferred over crayons. “Which color first?”

“Red.”

She extracted the red marker and handed it to him. She knew from experience that if she gave him the entire pen collection, he’d have them scattered everywhere within seconds and she wasn’t particularly in the mood to scramble around the floor in her dress and high heels picking them up. She would have changed out of the outfit she’d worn to the lawyer’s office if there had been time before Tyler’s appointment. But they’d worked him into the schedule as a favor when they could have just as easily referred him to the hospital to have his cast repaired.

“Was I born yet?”

“Were you born yet when?”

“When you used to work here.” He stretched out on his stomach and attacked the robot on the page with his red pen.

“You were born in Idaho, remember?”

He giggled. “I don’t remember being born.”

“Smarty-pants.” She pushed the jackets over the back of the chair and sat. “I worked for Dr. Cobb before I moved to Idaho. Before you were born. Before I became a nurse.”

“What was Grandma Gette?”

“Grandma Georgette had the farm,” she reminded him calmly. Small as it had been. Her mother had grown vegetables and raised chickens, though the lawyer had told Kelly the chickens had gone by the wayside a few years earlier. Which explained the broken-down state of the coops now. “The bedroom you slept in last night was my bedroom when I was your age.” She hadn’t been able to make herself use her mother’s room. Instead, she’d slept on the couch. It was the same couch from her childhood, with the same lumps.

“But then we went to Idaho.”

“Yes.” It had been one of the best decisions she’d ever made in her life. She held up the baggie. “Want another color yet?”

He stuck the tip of his tongue in the corner of his mouth, considering. “Green.”

They exchanged the markers. “Your robot is going to look like a Christmas robot.”

He grinned, clearly liking that idea. “Santa robot.” He held up his cracked cast. It, too, had started out a bright red. But in the weeks since he’d gotten it, the color and the various drawings and signatures on it had all faded considerably. “Santa’s gonna know where I am, right?”

“Santa doesn’t come until Christmas. That’s almost two months away. We’ll be home long before then.”

“Not before Halloween, though.”

She shook her head. Halloween was less than a week away. “I don’t think so, buddy. I’m sorry.”

“Gunnar’s gonna trick-or-treat without me.”

“I know.” She rubbed Tyler’s back. “I’ll figure out something for us to do on Halloween.” It wouldn’t be answering the door to trick-or-treaters, that was certain. Even back when she’d been a kid, children didn’t voluntarily knock on Georgette Rasmussen’s door. Not unless they were on a dare or something.

“I wish we didn’t have to come here.”

“I know.” She propped her elbow on the table and rested her head on her hand. “I wish that, too. We’ll only be here in Weaver for a little while, though.”

It felt like months since she’d had a moment to draw breath, when it had really only been three days since she’d gotten the call about her mother. One day to absorb the news that the woman she hadn’t spoken to in six long years had died of a sudden heart attack. One day to pack up and drive nine hours from Idaho Falls to Weaver, Wyoming. One day to meet Tom Hook, the attorney who’d contacted her in the first place.

That’s the way she meant to continue. Dealing with things one day after another until she and Tyler could go back home where they belonged in Idaho. Then she could examine her feelings about losing the mother who’d never wanted to be her mother in the first place.

She pushed away the thought and started to cross her legs, but the doorknob suddenly rattled and she heard muffled voices on the other side of the door. She sat up straighter and brushed Tyler’s hair back from his eyes again. “You’ll like Doc Cobb. He’s one of the nicest men I’ve ever known.”

“Is that why my middle name is Cobb?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Considering everything her onetime boss had done for her, she should have stayed in better contact with him. She held up the baggie. “Put your marker away for now.”

Tyler rolled onto his side and sat up but missed the bag when he dropped the marker. It rolled under the table.

“Good aim, buddy,” she said wryly and crouched down to reach blindly beneath the metal base.

She heard the door open behind her just as her fingertips found what she was looking for. “Sorry for the wait,” she heard as she quickly grabbed the marker.

She was already smiling as she straightened and turned. “Doc—” The word caught in her throat, and all she could do was stare while everything inside her went hot.

Then cold.

Not because good old Doc Cobb, with his balding head, wildly wiry gray eyebrows and Santa-size belly was standing there.

But because he wasn’t.

Instead, the man facing her was six-plus feet of broad shoulders and very lean, un-Santa-like man. Sharply hewn jaw. Unsmiling mouth. Dark, uncommonly watchful eyes. Even darker hair brushed carelessly back from his face.

Seeing Caleb Buchanan was like being punched in the solar plexus.

She hadn’t seen him face-to-face in nearly six years. But there was no mistaking him now.

And no mistaking the fact that—while she was blindsided at the sight of him here in Weaver, when he should have been a surgical resident somewhere else by now—he didn’t seem anywhere near as surprised by the sight of her.

Well, duh, Kelly. Her name was written plainly in Tyler’s medical chart. How many Kelly Rasmussens could there be, particularly in the small town of Weaver?

The young blonde nurse stepped between them as she rolled the cast saw unit into the room.

Panic suddenly slid through Kelly’s veins and she snatched up their coats from the chair.

“You can stay,” the nurse assured, looking as cheerful as ever. “The machine looks more intimidating than it really is.”

Kelly’s mouth opened. But the assurance that she was perfectly comfortable with the saw stuck in her throat. She didn’t dare look at Caleb. And Tyler was starting to look alarmed.

How could she explain to any of them her urgent need to flee?

Caleb took a step past her, approaching the exam table. “I’m Dr. C, Tyler. We’ll have you fixed up in no time.”

The nurse patted Kelly’s arm comfortingly as she moved the saw next to Caleb. “He’s going to cut off your cast and put the new one on,” she chirped. “Did you decide what color you want?”

“Red.”

“Again?”

“I like red.”

One part of Kelly’s brain observed the scene. The other part was imagining herself grabbing Tyler and running for the hills.

“I was expecting Dr. Cobb,” she blurted.

The nurse blinked, clearly surprised. Kelly felt an insane urge to laugh hysterically. The practice was still clearly Cobb Pediatrics. The sign on the outside of the building said so. When Kelly had called for an appointment, that was the greeting she’d received.

“He’s on sabbatical,” Caleb said. “Put your coats down, Kelly. It’s been a long time, but you’re here and your son’s cast needs to be replaced.”

Your son.

She let out a careful breath, finally daring to glance his way as he set the medical chart on the counter next to the sink before flipping on the water to wash his hands. He was wearing an unfastened white lab coat over blue jeans and an untucked black shirt. “How’d you break your cast, Tyler?”

“Sliding down the banister at my mother’s house,” Kelly answered before Tyler could say a word. She knew it was silly not to want her son talking to Caleb, but she couldn’t help it. And she felt sure that Caleb would have already read the information the nurse had recorded in Tyler’s chart. “I would have taken him to the hospital if I’d known the doctor was away,” she said to the nurse.

“No need for that.” Just as Kelly had spoken to the nurse, Caleb aimed his comment at Tyler. “Banisters are pretty cool. How’d you break your arm in the first place?”

“Jumping out of a tree,” Kelly answered again. Even though it took her closer to Caleb than she wanted to be, she edged closer to Tyler. Every day that she looked at her boy, she could see his father in him. How could Caleb miss the similarities that were so obvious to her? “Sabbatical where?”

“Florida,” the nurse provided. “Six more months yet. He’ll miss all of Weaver’s lovely winter.” She widened her eyes comically. “Poor guy.” She draped a blue pad over Tyler’s lap. “You’re lucky today,” she told him. “Dr. C is going to take your cast off himself. He doesn’t do that for just everyone.”

Kelly’s nerves tightened even more. But she could see Tyler’s alarm growing as he stared at the saw. She dumped the coats on the chair again and rubbed her hand down his back. No matter what she felt inside, her son’s welfare was first and foremost. “It’s a special kind of saw, buddy. Only for cutting through casts. It won’t hurt a lick.”

His eyes were the size of saucers. “How do you know?”

“I had a broken wrist once, too. Remember I told you that?”

“She did,” Caleb concurred. In a motion steeped in familiarity, he reached out his long arm and snagged two gloves from a box next to the sink. “She was fourteen years old.” As he worked his fingers into the blue gloves, she hated the fact that she noticed he wore no wedding ring. Not that the absence of one proved anything.

Not that she cared, either way.

The lie was so monumental she felt herself flushing.

“Flew right over the handlebars of her bicycle,” he was saying. “Saw the whole thing. I’m sure your mom remembers that day very well, too.” His eyes snagged hers for the briefest of moments, and she looked away.

The nurse handed him the saw. “This’ll be loud, Tyler, but your mom’s right. It won’t hurt,” Caleb said. He turned it on and the loud whine filled the room.

Kelly didn’t want to, but she moved out of the way so he had more room to maneuver. Only then did she realize she was still clutching the plastic marker. She it inside her purse then moved back to the opposite corner near the door.

The noise from the saw was short-lived. After only a few minutes, Caleb turned it off and handed it back to the nurse. Then he used the long-handled spreader to separate the gap he’d just cut in the fiberglass cast. “Doing okay there, Tyler?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Tyler was obviously over his alarm and watched as Caleb worked. “You knew my mom before I was born?”

The knot in Kelly’s throat doubled in size.

“Sure did.” He took up a pair of scissors and began snipping through the padding next to Tyler’s skin.

“That was a long time ago, huh.”

“Sure was.” Caleb flicked another glance her way. What he was thinking was anybody’s guess. As a young man, she’d been able to read every thought he had.

Now his expression was completely unreadable.

Could he recognize his own eyes looking up at him from Tyler’s face and not show any reaction at all?

Then he focused on Tyler again as he pulled open the fiberglass cast and slid it gently away from Tyler’s forearm. “Still doing okay, buddy?”

“His name is Tyler,” Kelly said tightly. She was the one who called her son “buddy.”

“Tyler Cobb Rasmussen,” Tyler piped proudly. “That’s my whole name.”

“Cobb!” The nurse exclaimed. “What a coincidence.”

Hardly that. But Kelly had no desire to explain anything to the nurse. As it was, she wondered just how close Caleb and Doc Cobb had gotten over the years. Even though the elder physician had been the one to refer Kelly to a professional associate of his in Idaho Falls, she had never told him why she’d been so anxious to leave Weaver. Aside from her mother, Kelly had never told anyone in Weaver that she’d been pregnant when she’d left.

She crossed her arms tightly and returned Caleb’s look with a hard-won impassive look of her own. Mentally daring him to make some comment. Some observation.

But none came.

Instead, with the nurse’s assistance, he had Tyler’s arm recast in short order. Leaving the young blonde to clean up the small mess that remained, Caleb threw away his gloves, washed his hands again and scribbled in the chart before holding it out for Kelly. She took it, but he didn’t immediately release it, and her nerves ratcheted tight all over again. She tugged a little harder on the chart and he finally released it.

“I was sorry to hear about your mother.”

Her jaw felt tight as she flipped open the chart to scan the contents. She wished she could find fault with the notes but couldn’t, so she closed the folder with a snap. She wanted to ask him why he was sorry, but that sounded too much like something her mother would have said. “Thank you.”

She wondered if she imagined his faint sigh before he went on to explain that the nurse would give them information on cast care.

“Think I’ve got that covered,” Kelly said.

One corner of his mouth kicked up in an imitation of a grin. It wasn’t a real one. Despite the intervening years, she could still tell the difference between real and fake with him. He turned back to Tyler and stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Tyler Cobb Rasmussen.”

She felt vaguely dizzy but her little boy giggled as he manfully shook the offered hand. “Nice to meet you, Dr. C.”

“No more sliding down banisters, okay? At least for now.”

Tyler nodded. “I promise.”

Sure. Easy for Caleb to elicit the promise, whereas Kelly needed to be constantly on alert where her rambunctious, active son was concerned.

Guilt squeezed her stomach. If she’d been better at her job, Tyler wouldn’t have been on that banister in the first place.

And they could have avoided this trip to Doc Cobb’s office altogether.

She rubbed at the pain between her eyebrows.

“You all right?”

She dropped her hand. She didn’t want or need Caleb’s concern. All she wanted was to escape unscathed with her son. “I’m fine.” She retrieved her purse from the chair in the corner and looped the leather strap over her shoulder before lifting Tyler off the table and handing him his jacket. She went ramrod stiff when Caleb cupped her shoulder. “It was good to see you.” The touch was as brief as it was light and shouldn’t have felt like it burned.

Yet it did.

Then he opened the door and left the room.

Kelly could have collapsed with relief.

“We all love Dr. C,” the nurse commented as she tore off the protective paper from the table and rolled out fresh. “He’s so great with the patients.” She smiled impishly. “And pretty great to look at, but don’t tell him I said so.”

Kelly wrapped her fingers around her purse strap and clutched her own jacket to her waist. “How long has he been here?”

“Almost a year now.”

The nurse didn’t seem surprised by the question. But then she probably fielded lots of questions from single mothers about the handsome Dr. C. Kelly’s fingers tightened even more on the leather strap. “I’m surprised,” she mused casually. “I’d heard he was on the surgical track. Didn’t even know he’d switched to pediatrics. Is he here permanently?”

“We’re all hoping so.” It was hardly the definitive answer Kelly wanted, but the nurse pulled the door open wider as she led the way from the room, pushing the saw unit ahead of her. She smiled brightly at Tyler. “Take care of that cast like Dr. C said, okay?”

“I will.” Tyler tucked his left hand in Kelly’s. “Can we have ice cream?”

The vise around her nerve endings eased up as she looked down at his hopeful face. Everything she did in her life was worth it when it came to her precious boy.

Even facing his unknowing father.

She leaned over and kissed Tyler’s nose. “After dinner.”

“When’s dinner?”

“Trying to tell me you’re already hungry?”

He nodded.

She led him through the rabbit warren of hallways until they reached the exit where the billing desk was located. The white-haired woman sitting at the desk was a welcome sight. “Mary Goodwin! You’re still here? You were threatening retirement even when I used to work here.”

The woman laughed. “I tried a few years ago. Went stir-crazy after only a few months and begged Doc Cobb to give me back my job. I heard you were back in town. Haven’t changed a single little bit, either. Still as pretty as a picture. How’s married life?”

Kelly faltered. “Excuse me?”

Mary looked awkward for a moment. “I... Nothing. You know how word gets around in these parts.” She focused quickly on the paperwork in the chart. “No follow-up appointment?”

Kelly hesitated. Had Doc Cobb told people that she’d gotten married? It was far more likely that such a story had originated with her mom. Though for what purpose, Kelly couldn’t imagine. “We’re only here for a few weeks. I’ll take Tyler to his regular pediatrician back home when it’s time.” She handed over her credit card before pushing her arms into her jacket sleeves. “You can put the co-pay on that.”

Mary ran the card. “I saw your mother’s obituary in The Weaver Weekly.” She set the card and the printed charge slip on the desk in front of Kelly. “My condolences.”

She quickly signed her name on the authorization. “Someone is still publishing The Weaver Weekly? Surprised that hasn’t died off by now.”

Mary shook her head. “Quite the opposite. Comes out twice a week now.”

“Any other changes around town I should know about?” She managed to keep her tone light.

“Just drive on down Main Street and see for yourself,” Mary advised. “Weaver’s grown a lot since you left. There’s even a—” she cast a quick look at Tyler “—a particularly popular fast food place on the other side of town. Bekins Road, right before the highway on the way to Braden. Arches on the sign,” she added, raising her eyebrows for emphasis.

“Never would have expected that.” Maybe in Braden. The town was a good thirty miles away and had always edged out Weaver in terms of available services. Kelly slid everything back into her purse and took Tyler’s hand again before pushing on the exit door. “Take care, Mary.”

“You too, honey.”

They stepped out into the weak October sunshine and Kelly hauled in a deep breath.

“Mommy! You’re squeezing my hand too tight.”

“Sorry, buddy.” Kelly quickly loosened her hold as they walked to the small parking lot that was full of vehicles. Hers was the only one sporting an out-of-state license plate. She let go of his hand and unlocked the car doors. He climbed into the rear onto his booster seat. He was particularly independent about fastening his own safety belt, and she waited while he worked at it, not closing the door until she tugged the strap to be sure it was secure.

Then she straightened, glancing back at the building over the roof of her car.

Six years had passed since that night she and Caleb had unintentionally conceived the brightest light in her life. Six years since they’d had any sort of contact. Intentional or otherwise.

She’d gotten over Caleb a long time ago.

He, of course, had never needed to get over her.

Six years.

That time had evidently brought a lot of changes to Weaver. But none of them mattered to her. She and Tyler had a life—a good life—in Idaho. One she’d worked darned hard to achieve. They had friends. They had a home where Tyler had never known anything but love. She’d returned to Weaver to do her last duty as Georgette Rasmussen’s daughter.

She wasn’t going to let herself think about anything else.

Caleb Buchanan included.

Chapter Two

“I heard Kelly Rasmussen and her little boy are in town.” Caleb’s sister, Lucy, leaned past his shoulder to set a bowl of salad on the kitchen table. “Staying out at her mother’s place. I should take them a meal or something. Can’t be easy for her.”

“I’m sure she’d like that,” Caleb answered smoothly. He wasn’t sure if his sister was fishing or not, but knowing Lucy, she probably was. “Last time I saw Georgette’s house it was practically falling apart, and that was years ago.” He’d gone to see Kelly’s mother only once after he and Kelly had parted ways for good. Only because he could hardly believe the story around town: that she’d moved to Idaho and gotten married. There were even stories about a kid.

Georgette had confirmed it, though. The woman had wallowed in her bitterness as she told him how Kelly had abandoned her in favor of her new life in the city. She then told him about Kelly’s new man and the baby they’d had together.

Georgette’s attitude hadn’t been particularly surprising. She’d always given new meaning to the word ornery. But the fact that Kelly really was married? With a baby, no less?

Even though there was nothing between them anymore, the confirmation had knocked him sideways.

He eyed the platter of pork chops Lucy put on the table. His mouth had been watering for her cooking since that morning when she’d called to invite him for supper. But his thoughts kept straying to his encounter with Kelly.

He’d seen Tyler Rasmussen’s name written in as a last-minute addition on the schedule but hadn’t thought twice about it. There were dozens of Rasmussens around Weaver. The family seemed to have more branches than his own.

Then he’d opened the boy’s chart and Kelly’s signature had all but smacked him in the face.

His only thoughts when he’d opened the examining room door after that were to keep his act together. He was a physician, for God’s sake. Not a stupid kid who hadn’t known what he had until he’d thoughtlessly tossed it aside in favor of someone else.

She’d always been pretty, with otter-brown hair, coffee-colored eyes and delicate features. But Kelly Rasmussen all grown up? She’d held herself with a confidence that she hadn’t possessed before. She was still beautiful. More...womanly.

He pushed the disturbing image to the back of his mind and focused on his three-year-old niece bouncing on his knee. “What do you want more, Sunny? The salad? Or the pork chops?”

“Gravy,” she said promptly. “And ’tatoes.”

“You have to eat some carrots first,” Lucy said firmly. She moved the toddler from Caleb’s lap to her high chair and ruffled her daughter’s dark hair. “She’d eat mashed potatoes and gravy morning, noon and night if I let her,” Lucy said with a wry smile.

“Girl knows what she likes.” He winked at the tot, who awarded him with a beaming smile. “Kelly’s boy is cute,” he commented casually. “Tall for his age.”

Lucy stopped in her tracks and gave him a surprised look. “You’ve seen them?”

He knew from long experience there was no point hiding anything from his family, especially his sister. It was better to head her off at the pass than to keep things secret. Then he’d never hear the end of it.

“She brought him to the office today.” He got up and brought the mashed potatoes and gravy to the table himself, giving Sunny another wink that earned him a giggle from her and an eye roll from her mama.

“You’re as bad as a three-year-old.” Lucy set a few carrot sticks on Sunny’s plastic plate then went to the kitchen doorway and called, “Shelby! Come and eat.”

Only a matter of seconds passed before Lucy’s stepdaughter raced into the kitchen. “Uncle Caleb!” The girl’s light brown eyes were bright as she launched herself at him. Caleb caught her, wrinkling his nose when she smacked a kiss on his lips.

“Kissing boys now, are you?”

She giggled, shaking her head violently. “Boys are gross.”

“Sometimes,” Lucy joked. She filled Shelby’s milk glass. “Caleb sure was for a long time.”

“Spoken like a loving older sister.”

She just grinned at him, forked a pork chop onto her plate and began cutting it into strips for Sunny.

“Mommy, when’s Daddy coming home?”

“He’ll be back from Cheyenne tomorrow night, sweetie.” She transferred some of the strips to Sunny’s plate.

“Good.” Shelby sat up on her knees and attacked her own meal.

Caleb followed suit. “How’s Nick doing?”

“He’s twenty-five, as handsome as his daddy and spending the year in Europe, studying.”

Like Lucy’s stepson, Caleb had been studying when he was twenty-five, too. But medicine in Colorado versus architecture in Europe. “In other words, he’s doing pretty fine. Is he going to go into business with Beck?”

“Beck certainly hopes so. Father and son architects and all. So, how was it?”

Caleb doused his plate with the creamy gravy. “How was what?”

Lucy whisked the bowl out of his reach when he went in for another helping. “Don’t pretend ignorance. Seeing Kelly again, obviously.”

With her mother otherwise occupied, Shelby slyly palmed some dreaded carrot sticks from her and Sunny’s plates. Beneath the table, Caleb reached out and Shelby dropped them into his hand.

Lucy’s eyes narrowed suddenly, darting from Caleb to her daughters. “What are you three grinning about?”

“Nothing.” Caleb blithely folded his napkin over the carrots. He hated them, too.

“Who’s Kelly?” Shelby was only nine, but she’d already developed the art of distraction.

“Uncle Caleb’s old girlfriend,” Lucy said. She smiled devilishly at him. “One of them, anyway.”

“I don’t rub in your old mistakes,” he argued in a mild tone.

She blinked innocently. “Well, I wasn’t the one going around breaking girls’ hearts.”

Not all that long ago, before an injury had sidelined her career, his sister had been a prima ballerina with a dance company in New York. Now she ran a dance school in Weaver, and despite her blessedly relaxed rules over her personal diet, she still drew admiring looks everywhere she went. “Pretty sure you broke a few hearts along the way, Luce.”

“Then she met Daddy and I got to wear a beautiful dress.” Shelby’s expression turned dreamy. “When you get married can I be in your wedding, too, Uncle Caleb?”

He nearly choked on his food, and Lucy laughed merrily. “Sounds like a reasonable question, Uncle Caleb.”

He ignored his sister and answered his far more agreeable niece. “Maybe I’ll just wait until you’re grown-up and marry you.”

That elicited peals of laughter. “You’re my uncle. I can’t marry you!”

Far be it for him to explain the finer aspects of blood relations. “Then I’ll just have to stay single,” he drawled.

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Sure. Blame your loneliness on an innocent child.”

Shelby’s brow knit with sudden concern. “Are you lonely, Uncle Caleb?”

“No,” he assured her calmly. “Your mom’s just teasing. How could I be lonely when I have all of you around?”

To his satisfaction, everyone seemed happy to let the matter go at that.

He was wrong to think the reprieve would last, though.

Two hours later, after he’d told Sunny two bedtime stories and played two games of checkers with Shelby, Caleb was ready to leave. But Lucy trailed after him as he headed to his truck. “You never answered the question.”

He set the container of leftovers she’d packed for him inside the cab before climbing behind the wheel. “What question?”

Coatless, she hugged her arms around herself, dancing a little in the cold. “What it was like seeing Kelly again.”

“It wasn’t like anything,” he lied. “We broke up nearly ten years ago. She even married someone else, remember?”

“One of my students’ moms works for Tom Hook, and she says there doesn’t seem to be a husband in the picture. If Kelly’s little boy were a few years older, he could’ve been yours.”

“For God’s sake, Luce!” If he hadn’t known better, he’d have wondered himself about that boy. But even as impetuous as that night had been, they hadn’t been irresponsible. He’d used a condom. They’d always used condoms. From the first time until the last.

“Hey!” His sister had lifted her hands innocently. “Don’t blame me for what other people find interesting topics of conversation. So...no sparks between old flames?”

“It was just another appointment, Luce,” he said smoothly. “Thanks for supper. Tell Beck I’ll be in touch about the house plans.”

“Have you decided where you want to build?”

“Not yet.” He nudged her out of the way so he could grab the truck door. “It’s freezing. You’ll catch a cold.”

“You’re a doctor. You’re supposed to know that being cold and catching a cold aren’t related.”

“Tell that to Mom. She still thinks wearing a scarf during winter keeps a cold away.”

Lucy smiled and lifted her hand, heading back to the house while he drove away.

Lucy and Beck lived on the outskirts of Weaver, on the opposite side of town from the condo he’d been renting since he’d moved back home. Since he had nothing and no one waiting for him at home once he got there, he pulled into the hospital parking lot on his way. He didn’t have to be there, but he also didn’t have to be anywhere else. Might as well look in on the newborn he’d examined first thing that morning.

His presence didn’t raise many eyebrows as he made his way to the nursery. The staff there were pretty used to him by now, ever since he’d joined Howard Cobb’s practice. When Caleb entered the nursery, he washed up and pulled on gloves.

“Come to rock the babies, Dr. C?” Lisa Pope, one of the swing nurses, gave him a friendly smile over the minuscule diaper she was changing.

“Any who need it?” He glanced at the clear-sided bassinets. The majority of them were empty. It was a slow night in the nursery.

“Babies always need rocking.” As if to prove her point, she cradled her freshly diapered charge and sat in one of the wooden rocking chairs lined up against one of the walls. “But none of them tonight are missing a mommy or a daddy.”

“So a slow night and a good night.”

Lisa smiled over the tiny head cradled against her pink-and-blue scrubs. “Pretty much.”

He took his time looking over his newest patient—an eight-pound little guy who sported a head full of brown hair and a serenely sleeping face. Caleb didn’t mind the nurses knowing that he came in sometimes just to rock the babies. Some didn’t have mothers in good enough condition to rock their restless infants. Some didn’t have any parents at all. Others had been born to perfectly normal moms and dads but were feeling outraged at finding themselves abruptly in a cold, bright world and didn’t like it one bit.

He’d never particularly felt a need to let the nursery staff in on the real secret—that rocking those babies soothed something inside him, too. Truth was, most of the nursery staff probably felt that way themselves.

But he wasn’t going to disturb the little guy’s slumber just because he was feeling restless. He wasn’t that selfish.

He said good-night to Lisa, disposed of the gloves and headed back out of the hospital.

What had it been like for Kelly when she’d given birth to Tyler?

Had she been alone? Or had the man she’d found—the husband Georgette had told Caleb about all those years ago—been by her side?

He walked briskly toward his truck, shaking off the pointless wondering. Whatever had happened between Kelly and Tyler’s father—was still happening, for all he knew—it was none of his business. Just because she wasn’t wearing a ring and she and her boy went by the name of Rasmussen didn’t mean she was single again.

Available.

And even if she were, chances were she still wanted nothing to do with him.

Why would she?

They’d been high school sweethearts. They’d been each other’s first. Even though they’d been just kids, it was a history. A history that had ended badly.

His doing entirely, and one he took full responsibility for.

But the last time they’d seen each other? When she’d told him flat out that she’d wanted to rock his world once more, simply for the pleasure of walking away from him afterward?

That had been all her.

He’d broken her heart once, and she’d proven just how well she’d recovered.

He could even understand it. Some. After Melissa had dumped him, he’d gone out of his way proving to her that he was over her, too. Last he’d heard, she’d married a thoracic surgeon out in California. Caleb wished them well. Was glad, even, that she’d been smart enough not to marry Caleb when he’d proposed. They’d been all of twenty-one at the time. She’d known what he hadn’t, though—that they weren’t going to last.

In the busy years since, he’d thought more about the girl back home whom he’d pushed aside in favor of Melissa than he had about Melissa herself.

“Which makes you sound about as lonely as Lucy thinks you are,” he muttered as he got into his truck. He pulled out his cell phone and checked the signal. Near the hospital, it was pretty strong. Around Weaver, a steady cell phone signal was never a foregone conclusion. But whom to call?

His cousin Justin Clay and Tabby Taggart had gotten married six months earlier. When his cousin wasn’t working at the hospital lab, he was practically glued to Tabby’s side.

It would be revolting if it weren’t so annoyingly...cute, seeing his two oldest friends so stinking happy.

He tossed his phone on the dashboard and drove out of the parking lot. He didn’t need company. For one simple reason.

He wasn’t lonely.

If he wanted a date, he got a date. There was never a dearth of willing women when you were single and had the initials M and D following your name. They usually didn’t even mind all that much when they came a distant third behind his studies and his patients. And if they did mind, they soon parted ways. No harm. No foul.

Definitely no broken hearts.

He’d learned his lesson well enough not to repeat it.

He drove down Main Street. Even on a weeknight, the lights were shining brightly at Colbys Bar and Grill. He abruptly pulled into the lot and went inside. “Hey, Merilee.” He greeted the bartender as he slid onto an empty bar stool. Considering the crowded parking lot, the bar was pretty calm. Only two pool games going and nobody dancing on the small dance floor. “Grill must be busy tonight,” he commented when she stopped in front of him.

“Have a school fund-raiser going on in there,” she told him. “What’re you having tonight?”

Restlessness in a bottle.

“Just a beer,” he told her. “Whatever’s on tap tonight.”

She set a round coaster on the bar in front of him and a moment later topped that with a frosty mug of beer.

“Jane not working tonight?” Jane was the owner. Married to another one of Caleb’s cousins.

“Thursdays?” Merilee shook her head. “Do you want a menu?”

He shook his head. “Just ate.” He glanced around again. The beer didn’t really hold any interest. Nothing in the bar held any interest. Not the trio of young women sitting at the other end who were nudging each other and looking his way. Not the hockey game on the television mounted on the wall.

The door opened, and Caleb automatically glanced over, then wished he hadn’t, because the woman walking in looked straight at him. Pam Rasmussen was a dispatcher at the sheriff’s office. She had been around forever and was one of the biggest gossips in town.

And she was married to one of Kelly Rasmussen’s cousins.

He looked down into his beer, resigning himself to being courteous when she stopped next to him at the bar.

“Evening, Caleb. How’re you doing?”

“Same as ever, Pam. You just get off duty?”

She nodded. “I came by to pick up Rob.” She tilted her head toward the breezeway that led from the bar into the attached restaurant. “He’s holding a fund-raiser thing tonight for his class at school.” She pulled out the stool next to Caleb’s and sat. “Heard you saw Kelly today.”

He gave her a bland look. “Oh, yeah?”

She wasn’t the least bit put off. “Shawna Simpson had her baby in your office today for her checkup. She told me.”

“It’s still Doc Cobb’s office.”

“Everyone knows you’re going to take over his practice for good when he retires.”

“He’s not retiring. Just on sabbatical.”

She shrugged, dismissing his words. “Shawna said Kelly looks just the same.”

He slid a glance toward the restaurant, wishing her husband, Rob, would hurry his ass up. “I don’t remember Shawna from school.”

“Sure you do. She was Shawna Allen then.” Pam’s eyes narrowed as she thought about it. “Would have graduated high school a year ahead of you and Kelly, I think.”

Whatever. He pulled out his wallet and extracted enough cash to cover the beer plus a tip and dropped it on the counter.

“Leaving already?”

“Hospital rounds in the morning come early.” Not that early. But as an escape line, it was pretty good. “See you around.”

“Probably at the funeral, I imagine.”

The wind was blowing when he stepped outside the bar, and he flipped up the collar of his jacket as he headed for his truck. When he drove out of the parking lot, though, he didn’t head for his apartment.

He headed for Georgette Rasmussen’s old place.

Even though it had been several years since he’d last driven out there, he remembered the route as easily as ever. When he turned off the highway, the condition of the road was not so good. More dirt than pavement. More potholes and ruts than solid surface. The fact that there had never been anything as convenient as streetlights on the road didn’t help. If he were a stranger driving out to the Rasmussen place for the first time, he’d have needed GPS to find his way.

But Caleb couldn’t count the number of times he’d gone up and down that road when he and Kelly were teenagers. Following the curves in the road still felt like second nature.

When he pulled up in front of the two-story house, though, he wasn’t all that sure what he was doing there. It wasn’t as though she’d welcome a friendly ol’ visit from him.

He turned off the engine and got out anyway. Walked up the creaking porch steps and stood in front of the door beneath the bare lightbulb above it.

She answered on the second knock.

She’d changed out of the formfitting gray dress she’d been wearing earlier. In jeans and sweatshirt, she looked more like the high school girl she’d once been.

“Caleb.” She didn’t close the door in his face, which he supposed was a good sign. But she didn’t open it wider in invitation, either.

“Kelly.” He wasn’t used to feeling short on words like this.

Her lips were compressed. She’d let her hair down. It reached just below her shoulders. When they’d been teenagers, she’d usually worn it braided down to the middle of her back.

He’d always liked unbraiding it.

She suddenly tucked her hair behind her ear and shifted from one bare foot to the other. “What are you doing here?”

He balled his fists in the pockets of his leather jacket. It’d been too long since he’d had a date if he was so vividly remembering unbraiding her hair the first time they’d had sex. “Wanted to see how you were.”

“Still standing.” She held one arm out to her side. “As you can see.”

“Yeah.” He glanced beyond the porch. Light shone from a few of the windows, but otherwise the place was dark. “How’s Tyler’s arm?”

“Fine.” Her tone was short. “He’s asleep.”

Caleb exhaled slightly. “He’s a good-looking boy.”

She shifted again, lowering her lashes. “What do you want, Caleb?”

He cleared his throat. Pushed away the memory of his hands tangled in her hair. “Where’s Tyler’s father?”

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