Claimed by the Cowboy Read online

Page 3


  Lucinda sighed. She turned to Carson—and Josh. “I just want what’s best for my patient,” she reminded the men.

  “It sounds like you’re what’s best for the patient,” Josh said as if he were seriously complimenting her.

  Lucinda had never physically assaulted anyone in her entire life, but she was damned close to taking a swing at Josh. That did it. He needed to get his nose out of this medical situation—and her business—before she lost what was left of her temper. “Can I talk to you for a second?” she demanded, not bothering to smooth her tone over with a smile.

  Carson’s eyebrows jumped up, but Josh showed no sign that he understood the danger. “Sure.”

  Good. Great. She was going to tell Josh Calhoun off the way she should have done seventeen years ago, and then she was going to get on with her life.

  Without him.

  Two

  Josh stood there for a moment in a state of total shock. His mind had to be playing tricks on him. Chicago had to be playing tricks on him. Because there was just no reasonable explanation for why he was here with Lucy Wilde. He stared after her as she stalked away.

  “I take it you two aren’t the best of friends,” Carson commented drily as he watched Josh watch Lucy.

  “Probably safe to say that,” Josh admitted. But once, they had been. Lucy and Gary and Josh. Three peas in a pod, his grandpa had always said. Until it’d just been the two of them. And then Josh had done what had been the hardest thing he’d done in his life—say no to Lucy Wilde.

  Carson pondered Josh’s statement. “Old girlfriend?”

  “No, nothing like that.” Which was not entirely the truth, but Josh got the feeling that Lucy might personally tear him limb from limb if he gave anyone any indication of how close they’d been once. “Can you give me a few minutes?”

  A grin twisted Carson’s lips. “Given how she was trying to kill you with looks alone, you might need more than a few minutes.”

  “I didn’t come here for her,” Josh said in as good-natured a tone as he could manage. “Let me get this settled, and then we can go somewhere and get a beer and you can fill me in on what the hell has been happening around here.” As if he could just “settle” the matter of Lucy when she was clearly out for blood.

  Carson looked defeated. “That’s going to take a lot more than one beer,” he said. “Go on. Another five minutes isn’t going to change anything.”

  “Thanks.” Josh took a deep breath and began to follow Lucy Wilde.

  Except she wasn’t Lucy, not anymore. Lucy had been a wide-eyed, freckled girl who had been wildly in love with his best friend, Gary Everly. Josh had actually liked her—he’d liked her quite a bit. She’d had a dry sense of humor and a sharp wit that she only used when people had her backed into a corner, which they did at their own risk. She’d been smart—smarter than either of the boys.

  And she’d loved Gary. It hadn’t mattered that he’d been sick. More times than he could count, Josh had caught Lucy gazing at Gary with unabashed adoration. It had never bothered him. Really. Lucy had been one of the best things to happen to Gary, and Josh had not begrudged his childhood friend the little bit of happiness Lucy was able to bring him in a dark time.

  Josh had tried to make Gary happy, too. Minigolf, cow tipping, the movies—together, they’d made a hell of a group, tearing up Cedar Point, Iowa. He’d had the car and the Calhoun cash; Gary had had his bucket list; and Lucy had kept them from doing anything truly stupid. In fact, if Josh was remembering things correctly, it’d been Lucy who’d passed judgment on whomever Josh had dated. A lot of the time, they’d been a foursome.

  But a lot of the time...it’d just been the three of them. Him, her and Gary.

  Until Gary had died. Four days before his eighteenth birthday. Of leukemia. Because his folks hadn’t been able to afford to bring him to Chicago or anyplace that had a really good oncology department.

  Not that it would have mattered. After all, Sydney had had access to the best medical care in the country and it hadn’t been enough to save her.

  Josh was already clinging to his sanity by his fingernails just being back in Chicago, but to suddenly find himself confronted with Lucy Wilde and Gary’s memory was almost too much. He wanted to bail and go back to his cows and stay far away from the people he loved because that was the best way of keeping them safe.

  He did not want Lucy Wilde to remind him of yet another person he’d lost.

  Not that he had a lot of choice in the matter. He walked toward her slowly so that he could try to put his thoughts in order. This was not the same girl he remembered. Oh, sure, she still had on a massive pair of eyeglasses that gave her an owlish appearance. And the only thing that seemed to have changed about her stick-straight blond hair was that she had pulled it up into a bun. But half of her hair had worked itself free and fell around her face and shoulders, making her look ethereal.

  Josh almost smiled. Lucy had never had a head for fashion or style and, given that she was wearing a shapeless doctor’s coat over equally shapeless black trousers and a mannish blue button-up blouse, that hadn’t changed, either.

  But the fire in her eyes? That was something new. Something that had made him come to a screeching halt and stare at her in openmouthed wonder.

  The way he had the last time he’d seen her.

  She reached her destination and spun, glaring at him. Her toe began to tap and he wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d pulled out a phone and checked the time.

  “It’s good to see you again, Lucy,” he began.

  He didn’t get any further than that. “What are you doing here?” At least she kept her voice to a fierce whisper.

  “Like I said, I’m friends with the Newport boys. They called me and asked for help sorting out this mess.”

  “Don’t give me that,” she snapped. “Because rolling up here and turning on all of your charm to convince my patient’s family that he would be best served outside the hospital is not exactly how I wanted to see you again, Joshua Calhoun.”

  Ouch. She was busting out the Joshua already. So much for warm, fuzzy reunions. But he couldn’t help himself. Teasing Lucy had been so much fun because she always gave so much better than she got. He heard himself slipping right back into it. “So, how did you want to see me again?”

  If looks could kill, he would probably need emergency medical help right now. “I didn’t.”

  There wasn’t a single thing about this situation that should make him smile, but he did. “I’m just going to go out on a limb here, but you seem upset with me.”

  Her eyes widened at the challenge. “Oh? Do you think? No. You obviously don’t. Because if you did think, you would remember...” Abruptly, her voice trailed off into a new emotional place, replacing the anger that flamed out all over her face.

  It almost looked painful.

  He didn’t like that pained look. Because he did remember. He remembered quite clearly. What had happened between them—it wasn’t the sort of thing a man forgot. He may not think about it every single day of his life. But, no, he hadn’t forgotten about going to Gary’s funeral and Lucy clinging to his hand the whole time and then pulling him out back at the wake and telling him that she needed him, needed him so badly because she hurt so much and she just wanted to not hurt and would he...

  “Oh, my God,” Lucy gasped, recoiling in horror. “Stop. Stop right there.”

  Josh shook himself. He was pretty sure he hadn’t said anything out loud. “What?”

  “Don’t.” Somehow her eyes got even wider and, behind her thick glasses, even more owlish. Her back straightened and he realized that, despite the fact that she was wearing an almost sexless doctor’s uniform, she wasn’t the same girl he remembered. She was taller and, with her shoulders squared, he could see that a woman’s curves filled out her body.


  If she’d had those curves back then...

  “Don’t what?” he asked, although he knew that was a lame dodge. She’d always been so incredibly perceptive, and as for him—well, he’d always been an open book. He’d only ever been able to hide one thing from her—exactly how much he’d liked her.

  The only other woman he’d never been able to hide anything from was Sydney.

  Which meant Lucy had realized exactly what he’d been thinking.

  “Just don’t, Josh,” she finished weakly. Then, she blushed. Hard. So hard that she went scarlet from the tips of her ears to the base of her neck. Lucy was so tomato red that he didn’t even need to look at her hands to know they’d turned bright red, too.

  “Lucy...”

  But whatever vulnerability he’d glimpsed was gone in an instant. “Don’t you dare ‘Lucy’ me,” she interrupted. Everything about her body tightened as if she were fighting off some urge. He had no idea whether she was going to punch him or what. “I am Dr. Lucinda Wilde now, and so help me, Josh Calhoun, if you roll up in here and in any way, shape or form compromise the care of my patients, I will personally make sure the rest of your life is a living hell.”

  She spun on her heel and he knew she was done with him, but, damn it, he wasn’t willing to let it go. He reached out and grabbed her hand. “Lucy, it doesn’t have to be like this.”

  She froze. Her gaze dropped down to where he had her by the hand. Her skin was warm and soft against his, softer than he’d expected it to be. He closed his fingers around hers and, without really thinking about it, pulled her closer to him.

  A feeling so unfamiliar, so foreign that he couldn’t name it right away, hit him low in the gut. Lucy. This was Lucy, and against all odds he’d missed her. He took another step into her, closing the distance between them.

  Dear God in heaven, what he was feeling right now? Desire. Want.

  Need.

  Josh Calhoun did a gut check and, for the first time in five years, his gut told him to go for it.

  For Lucy Wilde, of all people.

  His heart began to pound and his skin began to prickle. He inhaled deeply. She smelled of hospitals and antiseptics and, underneath that, a hint of something sweet, and all he wanted to do was lean his head down and taste her to find out what that sweetness was.

  Then she looked up at him, her light blue eyes impossibly wide. “Yes, it does.”

  He wasn’t going to accept that. “Have dinner with me.”

  That made her laugh—and pull her hand away from his grip. “Seriously? Am I not making myself clear? I thought you were smarter than this, Josh. I don’t want to see you. We’re not friends anymore.”

  “We are.” Her eyeballs bugged out of her head at this declaration. “Well, we can be again.”

  “No,” she said softly, turning away from him. This time he didn’t try to stop her. “After what happened? No, we can’t.”

  He watched her go, her words echoing louder in his head the farther away she got.

  She hated him. Well, he supposed he deserved nothing less than her contempt. She’d needed him to comfort her after her high school sweetheart had died and he’d...

  He’d forced himself to turn her down. He’d embarrassed her then and he’d embarrassed her again, that much was obvious. She only ever got that red when she lost her temper.

  But she didn’t realize how hard it’d been to say no to her. How much it’d hurt to know that he’d added to her pain. To have twice watched Lucy Wilde walk away from him and know that he’d screwed it up.

  Damn it all to hell and back.

  He watched a construction worker scurry out of Lucy’s way right before she disappeared around a corner. He should let it go. She’d made her position more than clear. Just as she had seventeen years ago when he’d rejected her.

  But it’d been different then. He’d been a kid in mourning for his best friend and due to leave Cedar Point in just a few weeks for college in Chicago. He’d rationalized that a clean break was best for all of them.

  Now?

  Now his gut was telling him that maybe it was okay to look at another woman and feel something. Something good. Something right.

  He hadn’t felt anything in so long...

  No. He wasn’t going to let Lucy Wilde walk away from him a second time with so much unsaid between them. He wasn’t the same confused kid he’d been. He was a man now and he knew what he wanted.

  He made his way back over to where Carson had been waiting for him, texting on his phone the whole time. With any luck, Carson hadn’t been paying attention to his and Lucy’s conversation.

  “That seemed to go well,” he said without looking up.

  Josh sighed. One thing was abundantly clear.

  His luck had run out.

  * * *

  Lucinda did her very best to ban all thoughts of Josh Calhoun from her mind as she moved through her afternoon. She’d spent more time at the children’s hospital site than she’d meant to and was behind schedule. She hated being behind schedule. Things happened on time or there were dire consequences in her world. When it came to the health of her patients, waiting could be fatal.

  This was what she kept telling herself as she moved around Midwest’s oncology ward, her hair still damp from the quick shower she’d taken to wash the construction dust off. Like any other day, some people were making progress and some people were losing the battle. Mrs. Adamczak was sitting up in bed and smiling for the first time in weeks. Mr. Gadhavi, however, had not responded to treatment and, as hard as it would be, Lucinda was going to recommend that he be sent home for hospice.

  This was where her focus needed to be—on the people she could still help. That did not include Gary Everly and it did not include Josh Calhoun.

  It did, however, include Sutton Winchester.

  It was madness that she was even going to consider allowing him to continue his treatment away from this hospital. If it were any other person in the entire city of Chicago, it wouldn’t be an option. It wouldn’t even be a figment of someone’s imagination.

  But Sutton Winchester wasn’t any other person. And his children weren’t going to let her forget it.

  But before she could even get to his room, she was stopped by the vice president of Midwest, John Jackson, outside the nurses station on the oncology ward. “Dr. Wilde,” Jackson said with an unnaturally bright look to his eyes. “Just the doctor I was looking for!”

  Lucinda didn’t have time for ego stroking right now. She knew that if Jackson worked up a proper head of steam, he could go on for hours. “How much money did they offer you?”

  Jackson pulled up short and blinked at her. “How did you...”

  “Because I’m not stupid, Mr. Jackson. I was there when Eve Winchester decided that this was going to be a reality whether I thought it was a good idea or not. You should merely count yourself lucky that you’re going to get the money for the cancer pavilion expansion out of it, shouldn’t you?”

  Jackson didn’t know her very well and it was clear that he didn’t know how he was supposed to take this attitude. But he hadn’t made it to being a vice president of a hospital without understanding how to cover his tracks. “Just think of all the people that we’ll be able to help,” he said, putting all available lipstick on this pig of a situation.

  “Yes, yes—I know. I hope you at least negotiated for the entire cost of construction?”

  “The Newports and the Winchesters have agreed to $250 million!” The man actually did a little dance. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Whatever you did, Dr. Wilde, do you think you could do it again? We could use a new cardiac cath lab, too.”

  She glared at him hard enough that he took a step backward. God, this whole situation had left her with a bad taste in her mouth. What else could go wrong
today?

  At that exact moment, the ward doors opened and a cart laden with floral arrangements was wheeled in. This was normally a happy time of her day as she got to see the flowers bring a bit of hope to people’s eyes.

  “As I said to Mr. Winchester’s children, I will only allow him to be treated in his home if they can get a room set up to my specifications and if it won’t compromise the treatment of my other patients,” she told Jackson as she kept an eye on the beautiful arrangements being off-loaded. She shouldn’t like the flowers. She never got any, and the last time anyone had actually given her flowers had been at her senior prom with Gary.

  He’d only been able to stand for the photos and for one dance. He’d gotten her a corsage, though. And then he made Josh Calhoun dance with her several other times throughout the night.

  The last bouquet on the cart was a small arrangement of sunflowers and daisies—bright and sunny and full of the promise of tomorrow. The delivery guy set the bouquet on the nurses station counter and Lucinda saw one of her favorite nurses, Elena, glance at the card. Elena’s eyes got very wide very fast, and then she looked up at Lucinda and smiled.

  Elena must have a new boyfriend. That was sweet of him to send flowers to work.

  Lucinda turned her attention back to Mr. Jackson. “...find a way to make this work,” he was saying in his best salesman tone.

  Elena held the card out to another nurse, who read the name on it and started giggling. “Fine,” she told Jackson. Because who was she? Just Sutton Winchester’s doctor, that’s all. Just the one person who wanted him to get the best treatment in the best place from the best people.

  Apparently, that made her the bad guy there.

  Well, she knew when it was time to cut her losses. You couldn’t hold back the tides and you couldn’t hold back Eve Winchester when she made up her mind about something.

  Jackson was still making noises about pavilions, patients and money when Elena carried the sunny bouquet over to Lucinda. “It’s for you,” she said.

  Lucinda wasn’t offended by the nurse’s awestruck tone. She didn’t believe it, either. “Seriously?” She grabbed the card out of Elena’s hand. Yes, that was her name on the envelope. Typed, not handwritten: “Dr. Lucinda Wilde.”