Her Kind of Hero: An uplifting romance to make your heart smile (Jackson Hole Book 6) by Cindy Kirk

Author:Cindy Kirk [Kirk, Cindy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Waverly House
Published: 2020-08-02T23:00:00+00:00

Once she reached the small health center in the center of town, Mitzi was ushered to the back. She quickly discovered the schedule of patients she’d been given had been a “preliminary” one.

“I planned to fly back at three,” Mitzi told the nurse, her brows pulling together at the long list of names.

“We’ll do our best to get you out of here by then, doctor.” The older woman, who wore the starched white uniform reminiscent of a bygone era and a cap, as well, gestured to a door. “The first patient is in exam room two.”

Before entering the room, Mitzi texted Keenan and informed him they might not be ready to leave as early as they’d hoped.

By three o’clock, the waiting room still teemed with patients waiting to be seen, some of whom Mitzi knew had driven several hours for their appointment. When she contacted Keenan to inform him they’d have to delay their flight back, he warned a storm was moving in.

She finished seeing the last patient at five. Outside, the blue skies had turned an ominous gray. When she reached the airstrip, she got the bad news. There were more storms between Delano and Jackson Hole. Though it hadn’t yet started to rain in Delano, because of the wind gusts and lightning, flying wasn’t recommended.

“We’ll have to spend the night.” Keenan glanced around the inside of the small hangar. “I can bunk here. We’ll have to find a place for you.”

Mitzi stared at the concrete floor, wondering just where he planned to sleep. After making several calls, Mitzi discovered the only motel in town was full but found a B and B with one room left.

Keenan walked Mitzi to the Country Dreams B and B, a quaint two-story with lots of gingerbread molding. The yard, surrounded by a white picket fence, held more wildflowers than grass. A path of stepping-stones led to the steps of the wraparound porch.

The proprietor, a stout woman in her early fifties, opened the door before they could knock and greeted them warmly. She pressed a key in Mitzi’s hand, apologized for the need to hurry off and advised tonight she was making dinner for the guests. It would be on the table in thirty minutes.

Keenan turned to leave but Mitzi took his hand and pulled him up the stairs with her. When they reached the room, she motioned him inside.

He smiled. “Let me guess. You need me to make sure there are no monsters hiding under the bed?”

She shoved him none too gently into the room, then shut the door and fixed on a stern look. “Look, we both know it’s going to be miserable for you in that hangar.”

“Have you ever slept in a cell?”

She ignored the comment and gestured to the lovely though decidedly feminine room. To the brass bed topped with a wedding-ring quilt. To the lace doilies and bud vases with flowers scattered throughout the room. “This would be much more comfortable.”

He quirked a brow. “Why, Dr. Sanchez, are you inviting me to sleep with you?”

“Sleep being the operative word,” Mitzi said drily.

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