Cheryl Wyatt - Doctor to the Rescue

From Army To Family

Combat doctor Ian Shupe returns home from overseas with his most important mission: to raise his little girl. But Ian’s a single dad, and working at Eagle Point’s trauma center means having to find child care. When bighearted, struggling lodge owner Bri Landis offers babysitting in exchange for construction work, Ian accepts. He vows to keep his emotional distance from Bri, yet can’t deny that his daughter is blossoming under her tender care. But is he ready to believe that his heart’s deepest prayer may finally be answered?

“I think I have a mutually beneficial barter,” Bri said.

“Were you aware I worked in day care before moving here?”

Several expressions crossed Ian’s face, including profound relief and gratitude. It grew as his gaze swept across the hall to hover protectively over the tiny sleeping beauty he loved with his whole heart.

That moment Bri knew some things for certain.

First, Ian Shupe was about to take her up on her offer to watch his daughter. Second, he could not be more handsome. And third, she’d have to keep her attraction at bay. It sprang out of nowhere as he turned from Tia to Bri and smiled like the sunrise.

Looking at him now, she knew her heart wasn’t safe.

“Bri Landis, you’re a lifesaver.” He shook her hand. Then held it.

“And Ian Shupe, you’re a godsend.”

His face tightened. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“That’s okay, because God would. And that’s all I need to know for now.”

CHERYL WYATT

An R.N. turned stay-at-home mom and wife, Cheryl delights in the stolen moments God gives her to write action- and faith-driven romance. She stays active in her church and in her laundry room. She’s convinced that having been born on a naval base on Valentine’s Day, she was destined to write military romance. A native of San Diego, California, Cheryl currently resides in beautiful, rustic southern Illinois, but she has also enjoyed living in New Mexico and Oklahoma. Cheryl loves hearing from readers. You are invited to contact her at Cheryl@CherylWyatt.com or P.O. Box 2955, Carbondale, IL 62902-2955. Visit her on the web at www.CherylWyatt.comand sign up for her newsletter if you’d like updates on new releases, events and other fun stuff. Hang out with her in the blogosphere at www.Scrollsquirrel.blogspot.comor on the message boards at www.LoveInspiredBooks.com.

Doctor to the Rescue

Cheryl Wyatt

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Then the Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.

—Genesis 2:7

Mom and Dad: Your encouragement convinced me I could attain any dream I wanted. I took to heart every word of affirmation and praise you spoke. Every reader touched by these books is a result of the two of you championing my dreams and putting flight to every hope you gave me courage to have.

To my former OB crew at Memorial Hospital of Carbondale: I’m thankful for the opportunity to have worked with you as a nurse. Each of you left an indelible impression on my heart. Writing this medical miniseries brought back so many fond memories of you. Miss and love you all!

Lord: Thank You for unshackling my imagination and allowing me to write for You.

To Missy Tippens and Camy Tang: Thank you so much for your help brainstorming this series.

Lisa: You’re the best sister in the world, and I am so thankful we are friends as well as family.

Melissa Endlich and Rachel Burkot: Thank you so much for your encouragement, editorial insight and expertise. I am blessed to be able to work with you!

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

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Excerpt

Chapter One

Bri Landis’s pulse lurched like the ladder beneath her feet.

With her waist at roof level, she clawed at the eaves of her run-down lake lodge, understanding her brother Caleb’s caution to never climb alone. Heart thumping, Bri clutched the gutter. Ominous buckling. No!

It ripped free in a spray of rust and screeching metal. Screams tore through her as she plummeted...into a bush.

Bri could only gulp. Blink. Moan. She should have listened to her brother, she thought. Caleb was overseas on army medic duty instead of here at home in Eagle Point, Illinois, witnessing Bri make friends with her favorite shrub.

Now the shrub was squished and she was sprawled in it, lamenting her long hair. She disentangled her blond hair, then struggled to get upright amid a sharp sea of scarlet. Sweat beaded her forehead despite late-December’s chill.

Her untimely ladder escapade put a painfully ironic twist on this being the last day of “fall.”

Bri emerged, corky twigs crackling and biting like spindly wooden teeth. Jagged underbrush snagged her brother’s favorite hoodie. Bri pulled it from the branches holding it hostage. Gasp.

Pain seared her left arm. She slid the cuff and looked at it. Unnatural angle. Disbelief slid through her like the ladder off the roof. No question: arm broken.

And with it all hope of meeting the bank’s deadlines.

Dismay ran through her. Saving Landis Lodge—Eagle Point’s only retreat center and her family heritage—from foreclosure, meant renovating and renting seven cabins by mid-February. Roughly one cabin a week. She’d sold the daycare she owned in Chicago and moved home to make it happen.

Now days from Christmas, she risked losing the last thing her late mother loved—the lodge Bri had inherited and promised to save. No way could she afford contractors.

Her teeth chattered. “Where’s my stupid phone?” She needed help ASAP.

Forget going back into the bush to find her phone. A new trauma center sat right next door. Bri held her arm high and stationary and bolted from her yard, not caring if she resembled a maniac.

Eagle Point Trauma Center came into view over a leafy hill.

She’d never been so glad to see a modern facility nestled against rustic Eagle Point Lake, stately risen bluffs, scenic trails and seriously fun caves. The serene landscape of Bri’s childhood home calmed her against the mind-bending pain gnawing her arm.

Halfway to EPTC, dizziness hit Bri. She fell to her knees and clung to a parking barricade.

“She’s hurt!” someone yelled across the lot. Bri couldn’t be sure who it was. Nausea sent her face between her knees. Rapid footsteps pounding nearby pavement competed with the pulse swooshing her ears.

Strong hands gently braced her shoulders. “Hey, you okay?”

Her bad day just got worse.

Bri blinked up into the stunning aqua eyes of the absolute last person she wanted seeing her in this state.

Dr. Ian Shupe.

Yet, for the first time since meeting him weeks ago, concern and compassion emanated from the tall, dark and imposing anesthesiologist’s normally sullen eyes. “What happened, Bri?”

“Ladder slid. I f-fell,” she puffed past savage pain.

Ian’s assessing eyes quickly roved over her. “How far?”

Tremors overtook her. “Maybe nine feet.”

Did his face just pale? For sure, his jaw tightened. Probably thought she was an idiot. Ian’s warm fingers felt soft yet strong and capable as they examined her elbow.