Cowboy M.D.
Alison Forester has come to this idyllic California dude ranch to recruit Dr. Nicholas Sheppard for the burn unit at her hospital. Thanks to doctors like him, she survived the fiery crash that killed her parents. He's not going to waste his time and talent patching up rodeo cowboys–not if she can help it.Except the doc she finds is more spurs and saddles than scrubs and stethoscopes. Even more troubling, he's lost his faith in medicine…and in his own abilities. But as Nick quickly discovers, it's not going to be easy saying no to this brave, beautiful woman with the sweet-as-honey Texas accent. And sometimes a physician needs a little help before he can heal himself.
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REVIEWERS AND READERS LOVE PAMELA BRITTON!
“NASCAR fan or not, let In the Groove drive you to distraction.”
—Romantic Times BOOKclub (4 stars)
“A fairy tale that succeeds.”
—Publishers Weekly on Scandal
“This is the kind of book that romance fans will read and reread on gloomy days.”
–Publishers Weekly on Tempted
“Passion and humor are a potent combination, and author Pamela Britton comes up with the perfect blend and does everything right.”
—The Oakland Press
“This nonstop read has it all—sizzling sexuality, unforgettable characters, poignancy, a delightful plot and a well-crafted backdrop.”
—Romantic Times BOOKclub (Top Pick) on Tempted
“It isn’t easy to write a tale that makes the reader laugh and cry, but Britton succeeds, thanks to her great characters.”
—Booklist (starred review) on Seduced
Dear Reader,
Well, here we are again. I’m so tickled and delighted to be bringing you yet another story set in fictional Los Molina. When I started writing for the Mills & Boon American Romance line, I never thought I’d be creating a whole series of books based in this town, very similar to my own beloved hometown of Cottonwood, California.
As always, I hope you enjoy Cowboy M.D. and get a chance to pick up the other books in the series, too. And don’t forget that I’m also writing a line of NASCAR books for Mills & Boon’s HQN Books. (I know, NASCAR and romance—who’d have thunk?) Some of you might have read about these books in your local newspapers, Sports Illustrated or Entertainment Weekly. It’s been a wild ride, and I couldn’t be happier to be combining romance with a sport I love.
Until next time!
May all your books be keepers,
Pamela
P.S. Please visit my Web site at www.pamelabritton.com.
To the gang at Elegant Bean in Cottonwood, California. Thanks, guys, for all the coffee. Not only do you keep me awake in the mornings, but you keep me laughing, too. Here’s to many more books being written on your comfy couch.
Books by Pamela Britton
MILLS & BOON AMERICAN ROMANCE
985—COWBOY LESSONS
1040—COWBOY TROUBLE
Contents
Prologue
The door to the rooftop opened with a bang that caused Dr. Nicholas Sheppard to swivel in his plastic lawn chair.
“Doctor,” Lori, one of the first-year residents, said, lights from the parking lot ten stories below illuminating the concern in her face. “You’d better come.”
It was a cold, crisp night and his breath came out in a mist when he exhaled. “Is it Robby?”
She nodded.
Nick shot up so fast the dark green chair fell back. His leather soles lost purchase on the tar-and-gravel roof as he ran to the door.
“CBC?” he asked as he pushed open the metal door. The fluorescent lights from the narrow stairwell nearly blinded him as he took the stairs two at a time, the metal rail warm to his chilled hands.
“Came back a few minutes ago. Not good.”
“Damn,” he muttered. The coffee he’d just gulped down turned to acid. “Damn, damn, damn.”
Lori followed him as he entered the hospital’s main corridor, startling one of the candy-striped volunteers who was pushing an elderly patient down the hall.
“What are the numbers?” he asked, both volunteer and patient wide-eyed as he raced past.
“White blood cells just below four hundred.”
“Damn,” Nick repeated.
“BP at two-ten over one-twenty.”
He attacked the elevator button with ferocity.
“Do you think—” Lori started to ask.
But of course he thought that. Nine-year-old Robby Martin had been brought in four days ago, the victim of a rollover, one that had killed his father. But this kid was a fighter, even with burns on eighty percent of his body, so maybe it would be all right.
The minute he entered the ICU, Nick knew it wouldn’t be all right. If the dusky pallor of Robby’s face—the only part of him that wasn’t bandaged—didn’t tip him off, the way each breath gurgled in the boy’s chest in spite of the respirator would have done it. Pneumonia.
Damn.
Nick almost hurled the metal chart. He jerked the cover back, the aluminum flap swinging on its hinges with a protesting squeak barely audible above the respirator.
He was losing him.
“Should we up his meds?” Lori asked.
But Nick knew pumping more drugs into the child’s feverish body would do no good. “Up the morphine.” And when he met Lori’s eyes, he could tell she understood. The savvy, first-year resident had impressed him with her cool head and soothing bedside manner. Now she had tears in her eyes, too.
“Okay,” she said, blinking rapidly before turning to do as ordered.
Nick moved to the side of the bed where Robby lay, the kid’s brown eyes barely open. What was it about this one that tugged at everyone’s heart? That had every nurse and every resident on the floor checking in to see how he was? They all ached for him. They hurt for the little boy who’d lost his daddy, whose skin had been ravaged by flames while his dad screamed next to him.
