Courting the Doctor's Daughter by Janet Dean

Author:Janet Dean [Dean, Janet]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780373828128
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2009-05-11T14:00:00+00:00

Settling against the rough bark of the hickory tree, Luke stretched out his legs, his bones like butter softening in the sun. He took a bite of the shiny red apple, releasing sweet juice that ran down the side of his hand. When had he felt this relaxed?

Even Mary looked at ease. She had removed her straw hat, revealing her glossy thick hair, pulled back at the nape. One luxurious strand curled at her jaw. He had an urge to wind the tendril around his finger, to lean close and pull her to him. But her father and sons sat on the bank, a few feet away. Still, they weren’t paying attention. Maybe…

She raised her gaze to his. As if she read his thoughts—or dare he hope, shared them—color dusted her cheeks.

He smiled. “You’re lovely, Mary.”

Brows arching in surprise, she smiled, and the pure joy in it knocked against his heart. Hadn’t her husband told her she was pretty? After that reaction, he’d make a point of complimenting her more.

“Thank you.” She glanced at the group on the bank. “And thank you for making time for the boys. You’re good with them.”

“Yes, well, fishing on a warm fall evening—doesn’t get much better than this.”

“I think you enjoy more than the fishing.” She appeared to look inside him, to see into the innermost part of his being. “I think you enjoy the boys, too, even if they chatter like magpies.”

He glanced away. He treasured time with all of them, but especially with his son, more than he wanted to admit, but he merely shrugged. “They’re nice boys.”

The spark in her eyes dimmed. His attempt to look indifferent hurt her. But he didn’t want to mislead Mary about his intentions toward her and the children. Didn’t want to make her suspicious if he appeared to care too much. Why didn’t he just tell her he was Ben’s father?

After keeping silent for weeks, Mary would never forgive him for not telling her. Her anger would either force him into leaving town or into demanding his son. He couldn’t bear to wound her or the boys. He’d not done right by Lucy. He wasn’t worthy to rear a child. But even if he were, he had no idea how to be a parent.

A thick silence fell between them. With his free hand, Luke fiddled with a blade of grass growing alongside the tree, while Mary kept her back to him, tucking the remains of their picnic in her basket. The sun lowered in the sky. Soon they’d have to head back. Something he didn’t want to do. Not yet. “Do you want to take a walk before it gets dark?”

Mary wrapped her shawl around her. “Yes, that sounds nice.”

Luke gave her a hand up, calling to Doc to make sure he could handle the boys’ lines.

Doc waved them on their way. “You two run along. We’ll be fine.”

Strolling along the bank, Luke watched fallen leaves tumble along in the water, splashing against an occasional rock—small sailboats plucked from the trees, now heading to an unknown destination.

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