Betsy wasn’t sure why she’d confided as much as she had in John. It’s not as though he could help her with the solution to her problems. But for some reason, she found herself sharing things with him anyway.
Of course, she didn’t want to tell him that she’d invested her life savings in the hospital. Not when most people in Brighton Valley thought she was just a dedicated doctor who worked morning and night for the benefit of her patients and the community at large.
“Would it help if the hospital got a loan?” he asked.
“Maybe.” She would loan them the money herself, if she could, but she was stretched to the limit right now. She’d invested everything in the hospital, and thanks to Doug, that “everything” was nearly five hundred thousand dollars.
Doug had been brilliant when it came to buying the right stocks and knowing when to sell, so she’d received a respectable settlement when they divorced.
Normally conservative herself, she’d planned to open a money-market account. But then she’d remembered Doug talking about a good investment in a new pharmaceutical company. She’d heard of the firm and she’d had some knowledge of their research team and the work they were doing. So she’d taken the bulk of her settlement and purchased stock while the price was low.
Betsy wasn’t a gambler by nature, but she really didn’t consider that particular investment to be all that risky. And her purchase paid off.
When several investors decided to build the Brighton Valley Medical Center, Betsy joined them as a silent partner-putting the bulk of the money gained from selling her stock into the venture. Then she poured her blood, sweat and tears into the hospital.
“To make matters worse,” she finally admitted, deciding to share it all, “I’m actually one of the investors in the hospital. So I have more than just a professional interest in its success. I’ve got a personal interest, too.”
“No wonder you’re worried.”
“Yes, but it’s even more than that. I’ve come to love the people in the area, and I’m concerned about the type of medical care they’ll receive if the hospital has to shut down. They used to have to drive all the way to Wexler for X-rays, lab work and surgery. And just shaving the time off an ambulance ride has saved several lives already.”
“Maybe the hospital board of directors needs to hire a financial consultant to come in and help them run things a little more efficiently.”
She appreciated John’s concerns, but other than listening to her vent about things she’d be better off holding close to the vest, there wasn’t anything he could do to help.
Deciding to avoid letting the conversation get any deeper, she feigned a yawn.
“Tired?” he asked.
“I’m exhausted. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Do you want me to walk you home?”
She really ought to tell him no, but her answer rolled out before she had a chance to think it through. “Sure, if you’d like to.”
As she stood, he got to his feet, too. Then they started across the lawn to the guesthouse, where the automatic timer had already turned on the porch light to illuminate their path.
Would he try to kiss her again?
And if so, would she let him?
She knew that she had no business allowing things to get physical between them when the only things she had to go on when assessing his character were hunches and hormones.
How could she trust emotion to help her make a rational decision?
Yet as they reached her front door, her heart was already slipping into overdrive and the pheromones were swirling overhead.
As John pulled her into his arms, he searched her face as if looking for something.
For an objection? she wondered. If so, he wouldn’t get one from her now. Not when all she wanted was to feel his mouth on hers.
So she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew his lips to hers.
As their bodies pressed together, taking up where they’d left off last night, their hands began to stroke, to explore. As he reached her breast, as his thumb skimmed across her nipple, an ache settled in her most feminine parts.
This was so not a good idea. But how in blazes could she put a stop to it when her body was screaming for more?
Yet when they finally broke away to catch their breaths, when they both had to hold on to each other as if they’d collapse in a heap if they didn’t, Betsy finally took a step back, providing the distance needed to separate.
“I’m glad your memory loss didn’t include kissing,” she said, trying to make light of the passion that blazed between them.
His eyes, hooded with desire, locked on hers. “I didn’t forget what comes next, either.”
She was sure that he hadn’t.
The invitation to come inside the house and show her all that he remembered hovered over them, yet she couldn’t quite bring herself to ask him in.
Despite her fears, she was falling for John Doe.
What in the world was she going to do if he proved to be less than the man she hoped him to be?
Chapter Eight
Ten days and two paychecks later, John had settled into the ranch and had tackled all the chores that had been expected of him and several fix-it projects he’d found on his own.
At first, he’d thought that Doc had offered him a place to stay and a job out of the goodness of his heart. And while that was probably a big part of it, John had soon come to realize that there was more going on than that.
Over the past couple of years, Doc had sold off several parcels of land, as well as a lot of his stock. But he was still having a hard time keeping up with the daily work and the regular maintenance of the ranch.
That shouldn’t be surprising, though. Dr. Graham was pushing ninety and, as a result, was slowing down.
The elderly physician knew it, too. He and John had even talked about it briefly over breakfast this morning.
As he’d poured himself a cup of fresh coffee, Doc had said, “I’m thinking about selling this place.”
The man’s comment had surprised John, although he wasn’t sure why. “If you do decide to sell, where will you go?”
Doc carried his mug back to the table and sat across from John. “Have you ever heard of Shady Glen?”
“Yes, I’ve even been inside the lobby.”
Doc took a sip of coffee. “It’s not a bad place. In fact, I know quite a few people there, including Pete and Barbara Nielson. And everyone seems to like it.”
“Are you thinking about moving into one of the senior apartments?” John asked.
“That’s certainly crossed my mind. I may not like facing my physical limitations, but I need to. It happens to all of us eventually. Besides, I don’t have much family left, just a couple of nephews who live out of state. And as much as I’ve come to think of Betsy as my daughter, she really isn’t. So why burden her?”
John had come to know Betsy pretty well, so he didn’t think he was out of line when he said, “I don’t think she’d mind.”
“Maybe not. But even her own parents know that she works too hard as it is. And that she wouldn’t have a life at all if she had to take care of them.”
Doc had a point. Betsy had taken up the slack again this week at the hospital when one of the E.R. residents had broken his leg skiing on Saturday. So neither John nor Doc had seen very much of her.
She’d even had to cancel that Sunday dinner she’d wanted to have with her parents, thanks to a cocky young
