Judy Duarte: The Cowboy's Family Plan

As she did so, she offered the audience a pretty yet professional smile and said, “Good evening, everyone. I’m Dr. Ramirez.”

Her voice held a slight Spanish accent, although just barely, and he listened as she began covering the basic causes of infertility. Alex wasn’t all that interested in that particular topic, though. And as he tried to focus on what she had to say, he couldn’t seem to think about anything other than the fact that none of his doctors had ever looked like her. And was he ever grateful for that.

If the lovely Dr. Ramirez would have walked into an exam room while he’d been seated on the table, she would have had to treat him for an excessive heart rate and high blood pressure.

For that reason, he’d better rein in his thoughts and listen to what she was saying.

While he did his best to concentrate on her words, he was struck by her mannerisms: the way she cocked her head slightly to the side, the way she gripped the side of the lectern and leaned forward to make a point, the way she lifted her left hand—which wasn’t wearing a ring.

Several times during the talk, he could have sworn he’d caught her looking right at him, her cheeks slightly flushed. And when she turned away to scan the audience, she cleared her throat and took a moment to skim over her notes.

Maybe public speaking made her nervous.

Or maybe she found a lone male sitting in the front row to be a little unnerving.

On the other hand, it might have been something about Alex that had caught her eye.

Nah, it couldn’t be that. He’d probably just imagined her interest in him. Sleeping solo in a king-size bed for the past three years did crazy things to a man, he supposed, made him think that it was time to start looking for another woman to share his life once again.

And right now, that’s the last thing Alex needed to think about. He had a surrogate to hire. Then, God willing, both remaining embryos would be implanted and he’d have two babies to raise.

As the audience broke into applause, Alex clapped, too, realizing the lecture was over and that he’d missed almost everything Dr. Ramirez said.

When she asked if there were any questions, he kept his arms crossed over his chest and let the others raise their hands instead. He had plenty of questions, of course, but most of them had to do with surrogacy, which she was supposed to discuss during the last class.

Finally, his classmates began to file out of the room, providing him with the opportunity he’d wanted—to quiz the doctor in private.

So he remained in his seat, while she gathered her notes and folded them back in the file on the podium. Then he rose and made his way to her, his Stetson in hand.

When she noticed his approach, her movements froze and her lips parted.

Her brown eyes, which were almost hazel, widened. Her thick dark lashes, natural and unenhanced by mascara, fluttered once, twice. Then she licked her bottom lip and cleared her throat.

Clearly he’d caught her off guard, so he offered her a friendly grin and said, “I wondered if I could have a few minutes of your time.”

Selena Ramirez hadn’t expected the handsome cowboy who’d been sitting in the front row to come up to her after her class. In fact, his presence had caused her to lose her train of thought several times during the lecture.

Who was he?

What was he doing here?

Where was his wife or partner?

And why was he coming to speak to her now?

He must have read the questions in her eyes because he added, “I’d like to pick your brain, if I may.”

Goodness, right now, he could “pick” just about anything he wanted. But she shook off the inappropriate thoughts. She’d certainly provided time for questions and answers, but maybe he was too embarrassed or shy to speak in front of people. So she asked, “What did you want to know, Mr....”

“Connor. Alex. My late wife was a patient of Dr. Avery.”

Selena wasn’t sure what had stunned her the most, the fact that he was a widower or that he’d come to the lecture on infertility by himself.

“I’m not sure I understand,” she said.

“I’d like to ask you a couple of questions that I didn’t want to bring up in front of everyone else.”

She could understand that, but she wasn’t able to talk to him here and now. “There’s a board meeting scheduled at eight, so we’ll need to clear the room.”

Disappointment swept across his brow, revealing an intensity she hadn’t expected, an emotion she couldn’t quite peg.

She glanced at her watch, a silver bangle style, then looked up at him and smiled. “But I have a little time. We can talk out in the lobby.”

“Why don’t we go to the cafeteria?” he asked. “I’ll buy you a cup of coffee, latte or whatever.”

The suggestion took her by surprise. And so did the boyish grin that set off an impish glimmer in his blue eyes.

“Please?” he asked.

She was certainly tempted. She also had a few questions she’d like to ask him. From the first moment she’d scanned the audience and spotted him sitting front and center, his hat lying on the chair next to him, she’d wondered about him. So what would it hurt to spend a few minutes with him in the cafeteria?

“All right. Coffee actually sounds good.”

His smile broadened, lighting up those eyes like a Texas summer sky and knocking her completely off stride.

How was that possible? She’d never been into cowboys. Not that there was anything wrong with them. It’s just that she’d always dated professional men.

Dated? Now that was a joke. When was the last time she’d had a date? Not since settling in Brighton Valley, that was for sure.

She noticed that he seemed to favor his left leg.

A new injury? she wondered. Or an old one?

Either way, she found herself heading to the cafeteria with a man who wanted to “pick her brain.”

* * *

The cafeteria in the wellness center was actually a small counter area just off the lobby called The Health Nut, where they sold coffee and tea, as well as various waters, energy drinks, fruit juices and smoothies. They also provided nutritious snacks for people on the run.

While Dr. Ramirez carried her cup of coffee to one of several tables set out for those people who had more time on their hands, Alex paid with a twenty, then joined her.

“Thanks for giving me a few minutes of your time,” he said as he took a seat next to hers.

“No problem.”

“You’re probably wondering why I signed up for your class,” Alex said, his hands braced around the disposable cup.

“When I first spotted you sitting alone in the front row, I thought you might be a reporter,” she said.

“I’m afraid not. I actually came to learn more about the topic you’ll address during week three.”

“Surrogacy?”

He nodded, then lifted his cup and took a sip. “My late wife and I had planned to have children through in vitro fertilization. We’d gotten through the fertilization process. And after the first attempt at implantation failed, we finally managed to get pregnant, but...” He paused for a moment, then glanced down at the coffee in his cup, while he relived the phone call he’d received from the sheriff’s office, telling him that Mary had been involved in a car accident, that she was being rushed to the Brighton Valley Medical Center E.R., that she...might not make it.

“But...?” the doctor prodded.

Alex sucked it up, the memory, the grief, the guilt, the promise he was determined to keep. “My wife died when she was twenty weeks pregnant.”

“I’m sorry.” The softness in the doctor’s voice, the light cadence of her accent, provided an unexpected balm to feelings that were still raw at times.