Crystal Green - From Doctor...to Daddy / When the Cowboy Said ''I Do'' - From Doctor...to Daddy

Something was different. His stride was usually quick and smooth with an athlete’s agility. This morning, however, when he appeared beside her desk, she knew something was definitely wrong. There was a scrape on his jaw and his breathing was deliberate and slow.

“What happened to you?” she asked, knowing whatever had, it was none of her business.

A smile broke slowly across his lips. “I scored.”

For a moment, his words didn’t compute. Then she realized he’d been involved in some kind of sport.

“I don’t suppose you were bowling?” she asked with a lifted brow.

He laughed and put a hand across his ribs. Shaking his head, he said, “Touch football.”

“With enemies or friends?”

“Dax, Marlon Cates and a few others.”

He took a deep breath and seemed to wish he hadn’t. In fact, he’d even gone a little pale.

She hurried around the desk and stood very close to him. “Are you sure you’re all right? Maybe you should call Dr. Babcheck and just go up to the suite and rest.”

Now he looked a little angry. Straightening, he dropped his arm to his side as if to prove he was fine. “Just a few bruised ribs. I don’t need to call my backup. I’ll be in my office if anyone needs me.”

Then as if he didn’t want her asking any more questions or studying him further, he went down the hall to his office, his posture almost in a military stance as if he had to prove something to her.

As Erika answered the phone, fed information to reporters about Zane’s concert, worked on schedules for activities for Frontier Days and made multiple lists for everything she still had to do, she found herself worrying about Dillon and wanting to check on him. Because he was her employer?

Hardly.

Because he’d kissed her?

It wasn’t just that, either.

At lunchtime, she decided she really needed to look in on him. She could do that easily. She’d ask him if there was anything he wanted for lunch, even though he’d told her she didn’t have to do that.

But when she stood before his closed door, knocking didn’t seem easy after all. Gathering her courage, she did it anyway.

He called, “Come in,” with less forcefulness than usual, she thought.

Dillon was seated at his desk, a medical journal open in front of him. She noticed some papers that had apparently floated off the printer and onto the floor. Automatically she went to them to pick them up.

“I can get those,” he told her and stooped to do it. But when he did, she could see his grimace, the pain evident on his face with his quick intake of breath.

“Dillon,” she said gently, crouching down beside him, scooping up the papers that had fallen there. “You shouldn’t be here. In fact, I’m pretty sure you should be at the emergency room. You need to see a doctor.”

“I am a doctor, Erika. Even if I cracked a rib, there’s nothing I can do for it but let it heal.”

He was one stubborn man, but that didn’t surprise her. Males usually were stubborn. She dismissed the fact that she could be, too. “Just what would you tell a patient in your condition?” she challenged him.

“I’d tell a patient to rest,” he grumbled, almost under his breath.

She clasped his forearm and when she did, the connection she felt to him was hot and tingling. “And maybe you’d advise them to take some pain medication?”

“I’m not taking pain medication,” he snapped. “I’ll tough this out today and I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

Exasperated with him, she stood. “I could call Ruthann and ask her to come in a little early.”

“Her regular hours are fine. I’m fine.”

“Sure you are, and I’m Miss U.S.A.”

Now he cracked a grin. “You could be.”

“That’s not in my life plan.”

He turned serious now. “Just what is your life plan, other than becoming a resort manager someday?”

“It’s not complicated. I just want to be a good mother to Emilia and help her grow into an independent young woman.”

“But what do you want for yourself?”

“I haven’t had time to think about that.”

“I think you’ve thought about it, but you were so hurt by your last relationship you’ve closed off the possibility of another one.”

At his all-too-perceptive comment, Erika suddenly realized how badly she wanted to avoid this subject. For the past three years, she’d shut down desires and dreams. Dillon confused her and almost made her want to resurrect them again. But that risk was just too great.

Moving around his desk, she automatically picked up his empty coffee cup and tossed it into the waste can. “I’ll be away from my desk for a little while. I’m meeting a friend in town for lunch, then taking care of last-minute ads with downtown businesses.”

After a few silent beats, he said huskily, “You’re evading again.”

Turning on her heel to face him, she said, “I’m just evading for now. ”

“All right.”

“I can bring you a sandwich from the deli before I leave.”

“I’m not hungry. If I want something later, I’ll go get it.”

“You’re acting like a macho male.”

He gave a shrug. “What makes you think I’m not?

You’re my receptionist, Erika, not my nurse. You’re not getting paid to hover.”

She knew the expression on her face gave away the hurt she felt at his words, and she knew what she had to do. Leave.

Turning away quickly so he couldn’t see her expression, she said, “I’ll buzz you when I’m back.”

On her way out of his office, she thought he called her name.

She just kept walking.

After Erika returned from her appointments in town, the late afternoon turned busy. The phone rang, with one of the guests calling in to say she thought she had the stomach flu. Erika told her to come right down. While Dillon was examining her, another guest called. He’d sprained his ankle while golfing. A newly checked-in patron had wrenched her back while pulling her suitcase. And so it went. It was just one of those days and as Dillon came to the reception area after his last appointment, he looked pale. From his furrowed brow and the lines around his eyes, Erika could tell he was in pain. She hated seeing him like this. But he’d made clear that he didn’t want her help.

Ruthann had arrived so Dillon didn’t linger, just left the infirmary, telling Erika he’d see her tomorrow.

He should stay in bed tomorrow and let himself heal, she thought to herself. But Dillon obviously didn’t want advice on what was good for him and what wasn’t.

Erika’s own work kept her tied to her computer for a while longer. Yet she couldn’t take her mind off of Dillon—the way he’d looked when he left, how he’d hidden his symptoms from his patients all afternoon.

Since she was planning Frontier Days, she’d been given a card key to take the elevator to the penthouse floor, in addition to all the other floors. Closer to the event, she’d be posting signs and erecting billboards advertising all aspects of the festival. The resort’s aim wasn’t only to attract tourists to Thunder Canyon and the lodge, but to encourage their guests to attend all the activities in town, supporting businesses there, encouraging guests to return the following year.

Erika thought about the card key. She could just go up to Dillon’s suite and knock on his door. If he didn’t answer, he was probably resting and she’d just leave again. Or maybe not. She might try to phone him from outside the suite just to make sure he was okay.

Her mother was used to her working late so a few more minutes wouldn’t matter. Dillon’s health was important to her, though she didn’t examine all the reasons why too closely.