Cheryl Wolverton - What The Doctor Ordered

Rachel could spend hours just staring at him and watching the different expressions that crossed his face, listening to his deep musical laughter.

“Time for your examination, Rachel. Surely you don’t expect your daughter to be examined if you aren’t?”

“Oh.” Flushing, she nodded and added, “Very ingenious of you.” She stood and hopped up onto the tiny pediatric table.

“Did I mention you look nice in your navy suit?”

Her color inched up a notch. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“Now, lift your arm,” he said in his professional tone.

She lifted her arm.

“Now drop it.”

She dropped it. “Why?”

“I just wanted to see if you’d do it.”

Rachel smacked his arm. He chuckled and so did she.

grew up in a military town, though her father was no longer in the service when she was born. She attended Tomlinson Junior High School and Lawton High School and was attending Cameron when she met her husband, Steve. After a whirlwind courtship of two weeks they became engaged. Four months later they were married, and that was over seventeen years ago.

Cheryl and Steve have two wonderful children, Christina, sixteen, and Jeremiah, thirteen. Cheryl loves having two wonderful teenagers in the house.

As for books, Cheryl has written eight novels for the Steeple Hill Love Inspired line and is currently working on new novels. Watch for her third book in the series HILL CREEK, TEXAS, as well as other surprises planned in the future. You can contact Cheryl at P.O. Box 207, Slaughter, LA 70777. She loves to hear from readers.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God and are called according to his purpose.

—Romans 8:28

Dedicated to all the mothers and fathers who have been there for their kids.

Acknowledgments

James, big bro, this one is to you. What can I say? I love you.

Sometimes there are special people who touch your life, people you never forget. Years later you still remember the kind deeds they did or the gentle spirit they had. I know two such people. Dr. Jerry Youker. Your gentle spirit, your care for the person as a person and not just as a patient, has never left me! The way you allowed me to follow you around as a volunteer at Comanche County Memorial Hospital in Lawton, Oklahoma, will never be forgotten.

And Dr. Mogab! Oh, how I loved to be tested by you, as you’d let me look at X rays with you and go in rooms with you as you stitched up people! I still have those fond memories of being student to your teacher. Thank you both.

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

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Letter to Reader

She ran right into him—literally.

Rachel Anderson White stumbled and dropped the bags she’d been carrying in her arms.

“Whoa, there.” A large, strong hand reached out and steadied her. The firm, warm grip was definitely male, Rachel thought as she looked at the long, slim fingers and the dark skin that led to a well-muscled arm.

Rachel lifted her gaze to the deep brown eyes of one of the most gorgeous men she’d ever seen. She worked hard not to suck in a breath of disbelief. Dark, conservatively cut hair topped high cheekbones, straight nose and a firm, square jaw. Her gaze touched each of these features one by one before traveling to twinkling eyes that shone with warmth. When his mouth curved into a warm, friendly smile her heart thumped a bit faster.

“Are you all right?”

Rachel heard the question but stood stunned, quite unable to answer.

“Here, let me help you, Mrs….?”

The Mrs. snapped her out of her stupor, though she wasn’t sure if it was because that word still brought pain or if she wanted him to know she wasn’t married. “Miss. Rachel Anderson White. I didn’t mean to nearly knock you down. I was bringing supplies for my daughter’s class and not watching where I was…”

She noticed the child he carried on his left hip. Her cheeks heated as the dark-haired sparkling-eyed boy, no more than three or four years old, hugged the man and whispered something.

The hunk whispered gentle words to the child before a low chuckle filled the air around him. Glancing at Rachel, the man smiled.

“He’d like me to tell you he’s Jeremy and he went to ask Pastor Ben to pray for him because he’s sick.”

The little boy nodded, his shaggy brown bangs falling in his eyes, reminding her of a shaggy little dog as his head bobbed excitedly.

“I…see.” Rachel wasn’t sure what to say, since she didn’t attend church here and didn’t really know the pastor. “Are you feeling better?” she asked lamely.

The child grinned and nodded. “All better.”

Rachel chuckled. “Well, that’s good.”

Setting the young boy on his feet, the man paused to squeeze the boy’s shoulders. “Go back to class, Jeremy. You’ll be fine now.”

The little boy bounced down the hall without a backward glance, his fast gait echoing loudly on the tiled floor.

“By the way, I’m Morgan—”

“I hope it’s not serious?” Rachel said at the same time.

They both laughed.

Mild panic seized her that her daughter might be exposed to something that afflicted Jeremy and she’d have to take off work when she had just gotten her new job.

Morgan shook his head. “Not at all. He thought he had pinkeye, but he only has a mild cold. Still he wanted Pastor Ben to pray for him before he went back for his nap.”

Nap! The relief she’d started to feel at his words was instantly replaced with more panic.

“Oh, dear.” Rachel dropped to her knees and started gathering paper towels, a bag of finger paints, a tiny pink pillow, an apron and a ratty blue much-used blanket.

As she reached for the blanket, Morgan snatched it up, along with the paints and a box of tissues. “Here we go,” he said, and slipped the things into one of the bags she had been carrying. “Are you new here?”

Rachel paused in repacking the sacks. She was used to that question. In the past week she’d heard it from at least a dozen people here in Fairweather, Minnesota. Though she’d grown up in Fairweather and knew many of the people, she found, in the years since she’d moved away, married and had a child, new people had moved in, and the town had grown and changed, despite the fact it was a small community. This man and his child were two people she didn’t recognize, either. Mr. Morgan, she thought. “Yes and no,” she replied, smiling noncommittally.

Standing, she reached for the bags.

He picked them up before she could. “Allow me.”

Rachel bristled, but realized it was simply country manners. She’d lived in the big city too long, was used to everyone wanting something or expecting something in return, even her former husband.

Pain filled her heart at the memory. Betrayal, hurt and finally grief as she remembered the call to inform her that her husband had been killed in an auto accident. Nevertheless, that was then, this was now, a new start, a new way of things, new values. Forcing herself to relax, she nodded her thanks. “My daughter is new to the church day care,” Rachel said as a peace offering. She didn’t even know the new pastor. Though she’d been back almost two weeks, she’d not attended church. Her mother had informed her there was a new young pastor, but she had no desire to meet him, to hear any messages he preached, to hear anything about God. She’d bitterly learned that she had to depend on herself. Not others.