The Doctor's Choice~Badlands (Contemporary Western Romantic Suspense) Read online

  “Perfectly legal. Silky knew that I would never sell out to Eldon Kinkaid. He’s the head of the big mega-ranching corporation that’s been buying up the small ranches around here. Silky and I stood our ground. The combined size of our properties totals almost as much acreage as Kinkaid’s. We encouraged the other ranchers to hold on to their property. Silky wanted to make sure you didn’t sell out her friends and neighbors.”

  “But she knew I was going into medicine. Why would she force me to make this kind of choice?” She sank back into the wing chair, covering her face with her hands.

  He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I’m certain she didn’t intend to cause you any distress. The fact is, she thought she had lots of time to talk you into it. She and Doc even thought you would take over his practice in time.”

  “Here?” Cami looked up at him, feeling as though she had been ambushed. How could Aunt Silky have had such ridiculous expectations? She inhaled deeply and tried to think rationally.

  “It’s not such a bad place.” His voice took on a defensive tone. “Look Miss…Doctor,” he amended. “I know this has been a shock. Why don’t you let me drive you home and you can think it over.”

  She nodded, gathering her purse. She felt like a zombie as she plodded toward his truck, ignoring the hand he extended to assist her into the cab.

  She stared out the window at the town as he drove back in the direction of the ranch. What a miserable place. There was nothing here. She could never live so far from the ballet, the theatre, the museums she loved.

  They turned onto the road leading to the ranch. Frank raised his hand in greeting as he walked toward the stables. She waved back, wondering if he knew about the will.

  “Don’t make any decisions in haste,” Breck said as he slowed at the front of the house. “The estate’s valued at thirteen million dollars. Do you have anyone to advise you?”

  She swallowed. She couldn’t even conceive of such a huge number. “I’m going to call my fiancé.”

  “Fiancé?” He looked at her sharply. “Silky didn’t tell me you were engaged.”

  “It just happened. I didn’t have a chance to let Aunt Silky know before…before her accident.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Well, I’m sure he can tell you what to do.” He got out of the truck, slamming his door.

  A wave of anger swept over her. Before Breck could open her door, she had leapt out and slammed it for herself.

  “For your information, I don’t need anyone to tell me what to do, or to open my damned doors.” She stomped up the steps and slammed the front door behind herself leaving Breck standing, open-mouthed, by his truck.

  She threw her coat over a chair and paced across the room. Striding back to the front door, she peered through the lace curtain.

  Breck was still standing outside staring up at the house. He shook his head, climbed into his vehicle and drove away.

  Cami felt a strange sense of loss as she watched his departure. Turning, she drew a deep breath and leaned back against the door. “I don’t need any of this,” she said, “not a thing.”

  #

  CHAPTER THREE

  Breck stood by his truck for a moment staring after the woman who’d just thrown a little temper tantrum.

  Not that it wasn’t attractive. In fact the blaze of color on her pale cheeks had stirred something inside him that he hadn’t felt for a while prior to meeting this little vixen.

  He got in his truck and slammed the door, heading back to his office in town. He’d experienced the same stirrings when he’d sat across the booth from her at Tiny’s Diner watching her eat a biscuit with obvious delight. The tangible pleasure displayed on her face over the taste and texture of the biscuit in her mouth caused him to adjust the napkin in his lap, and glance around to see if anyone noticed that his jeans were bulging at the breakfast table.

  What was it about her that turned him on? She was a very pretty woman, but he’d been around plenty of pretty women who actually liked him and wanted him to open doors for them.

  He’d promised Silky that he would take care of her and that was what he was bound to do, if she stayed. He couldn’t help it if she went scampering back to Houston and to the arms of her new fiancé. Damn! He hadn’t counted on that. If she had a fiancé, why hadn’t he at least had the decency to accompany her to the funeral? What kind of man left his new fiancée to go it alone through tough times?

  #

  Cami jumped when the doorbell rang. She felt a lightness in her chest. Breck came back.

  She hurried to open the door. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to be so rude.” Her smile froze as she gazed at the bewildered face of T-Bone Mullins, Silky’s foreman. He nodded and touched his hand to the brim of his weather-beaten felt hat.

  “Yes’m, if you say so,” he said.

  “Oh, please come in.” Cami had to laugh at his confused expression. He crossed the threshold cautiously.

  “I just come to see if you need anything.” He eyed her warily.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact I do,” she said. “I would like to invite you and Frank to dinner. There are some matters we need to discuss. How about six-o-clock?”

  “Yes’m. We’ll be here.”

  He escaped quickly and she watched him trudge to the barn through the crust of snow.

  She laid a new fire in the fireplace. Soon the warmth of the flames chased the chill from the large room. She sat close to the fire. Closing her eyes, she thought of Clay. He assured her they had a great future together. She believed him. He was charming and stable. He might not be the most exciting man on the planet but he offered security.

  She was sad that she hadn’t had a chance to share the news of her betrothal with Aunt Silky before her death. She wondered if Silky would have been happy for her, or if the news that she planned to stay in Houston would have made her sad.

  Punching Clay’s work number into the telephone, she waited to be transferred to his extension.

  “Clayton Tremont here,” he said.

  “Well, Cami Carmichael here,” she mimicked his pompous tone.

  “Cami, dear one. How did it go?”

  “The funeral was sad, the burial was frigid and I’ve never felt so incredibly alone.”

  “You’ll be right back home tomorrow. How about the reading of the will? Did the old girl leave it all to you?”

  She fought the choking sensation in her throat. “Please don’t talk about her that way.”

  “Oh, you know what I mean. It was just an expression.” She heard him sigh and speak to someone as an aside. “Where were we?” he asked when he returned to their conversation. “Oh, yes.’ What about the will? What did she leave us?”

  “Nothing,” she said.

  He paused for a long moment. “What? I thought you were the apple of her eye?”

  “I am. I was. It’s just that she decided she wanted me to stay here. In order to inherit, I have to live here for a year. After that I could sell it all.” She waited for some assurance that she was doing the right thing.

  “Old people get strange ideas. How much land are we talking about, anyway?”

  “I don’t know exactly. The lawyer said it was worth thirteen million dollars.” She heard a low whistle.

  “That’s not too shabby.”

  “No, it’s not. But we’re talking about my life. We’re talking about my career. I’d never get another chance at a fellowship in immunology. I can’t give that up.”

  “Cami, Cami, Cami,” he crooned into the receiver. “As an immunology researcher you could never make that kind of money. Don’t be an idiot. Just stay there. We’ll work something out.”

  Amazed by his words Cami stood frozen, gripping the receiver with both hands. “Clay, I can’t believe what I’m hearing. You actually want me to live here in the middle of nowhere for a year?” A rush of righteous anger flowed through her.

  “It won’t be so bad. We can visit each other. The year will be over in no time
.”

  “I don’t think so,” she said, coldly.

  “Cami, I have to meet with a client right now. I’ll call you back later.”

  He hung up abruptly, the dial tone humming in her ear.

  Cami clung to the receiver, as though it might offer some reassurance of Clay’s feelings. Replacing it in the cradle, she sat for some time staring into the fire but drew no comfort from it.

  The sky darkened rapidly. She forced herself to reheat the food brought by Silky’s friends. Surprised when the doorbell rang, Cami had thought the men would come to the back door since the bunkhouse was behind the house.

  Opening the door wide, she stopped short when she came face to face with a tall, distinguished-looking man in a western-style leather jacket and cowboy hat. A whisper of white etched the temples of his light brown hair.

  “Miss Carmichael?” Blue eyes twinkled as he flashed a wide white smile.

  “Actually, it’s doctor,” she corrected, eyeing him warily.

  Extending his hand, he walked toward her. “I stand corrected, Dr. Carmichael. I’m your neighbor, Eldon Kincaid. I came to express my condolences.”

  She suppressed a shiver recalling everything she’d heard. “Come in, Mr. Kincaid.” She stood aside for him to enter.

  He tossed his hat on the bentwood rack beside the door as though he’d done it before.

  She gestured toward the sitting room. “I’m having guests for dinner, so I won’t have much time to spare.”

  He seemed surprised, as though unaccustomed to having women brush him off. “I’ll just take a few moments of your time.” He perched on the edge of Aunt Silky’s rose-colored brocade loveseat, looking large and masculine. ”I’m sorry for your loss. Your great-aunt was quite a woman.”

  “Yes, she was. I can’t believe she’s gone.”

  “I understand you were her only surviving relative.”

  When she nodded, he continued, “Then I assume Silky left the ranch to you?”

  Cami eyed him suspiciously. “You seem to be very well informed, Mr. Kincaid.” Though her solemn face betrayed no emotion, Cami felt both disgust and apprehension. Why was this man in Silky’s parlor right after her funeral questioning her about the inheritance? She wished T-Bone and Frank would hurry and make their appearance.

  “I’m sorry to be insensitive, Doctor Carmichael, but may I inquire as to your plans for the ranch? You see, Silky and I were in the midst of negotiations for the sale of the property.” He sat back on the loveseat, glancing at her speculatively. “I can see that you’re surprised.”

  “Why, as a matter of fact, I am. I was under the impression that Aunt Silky would never have parted with the place…willingly.”

  He leaned toward her in a conspiratorial manner. “Silky and I were old friends. We first met when I was a young Land Man out scouting for the big oil companies. I got a lease on her land that ran for a long time.”

  “Oil? On this land?”

  “Nothing worth drilling for.” He gave her a one-sided smile. “All the big fields are played out around here. What’s left is too hard to get to. Gulf and foreign oil is easier to come by.”

  She nodded. “So you met Silky years ago?”

  He settled back on the small sofa, spreading his arms across the back. “That’s when I first fell in love with this area. I started buying ranches back then and, over time, my holdings have grown.”

  “I’ve heard that from various sources, Mr. Kincaid.” Cami fixed him with a non-committal gaze. “What made you think that my aunt was willing to sell to you at this time?”

  “Everyone has their price, young lady. I’m pretty sure that Silky and I had just about arrived at hers.”

  “I see.” Staring at the powerful man, she felt small and vulnerable.

  “And, I would be willing to take up negotiations with you right where Silky and I left off.” Kincaid pushed back on the loveseat with a satisfied expression.

  “I think you’re talking to the wrong person, Mr. Kincaid. You see, I’ve accepted a fellowship in immunology. The will stipulates that I live here for a year to inherit. The ranch will pass to someone else.”

  Kincaid’s expression changed from smug superiority to astonishment. “What? That can’t be! You’re the only one she had to leave it to. Don’t tell me it goes to the cat?” His face took on a florid hue and he made sputtering noises.

  “Not the cat,” she assured him. “If I refuse to submit to the conditions of the will, my great-aunt stipulated that the ranch go to Mr. Breckenridge Ryan, her attorney.”

  “Damn!” Kincaid leapt to his feet. “That can’t be!”

  “I’m afraid so.” Cami stood and turned toward the door. “I hate to rush you off, Mister Kincaid, but I must get back to my dinner preparations. Thank you so much for dropping by.”

  He jammed his hat on his head. “When are you leaving, Doctor?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon, Mr. Kincaid.” She twisted the faceted glass doorknob, letting a frigid draft rush inside.

  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow morning. I may be able to change your mind.” He left abruptly, his boots sounding like hammer blows as he strode across the porch.

  Cami quickly closed the door and returned to the kitchen. The chicken casserole and peach cobbler were heated through and had saturated the air with luscious spicy aromas. She found a bag of frozen green beans, choosing them over broccoli or asparagus, in case the men had some sort of macho aversion to these sissy vegetables. She put together a salad and splashed it with Italian dressing and wrapped the bread in foil to warm in the oven.

  She just had time to change into a blue tunic sweater and leggings before hearing a knock at the back door.

  “Please come in, gentlemen,” she invited.

  Frank and T-Bone, cheeks reddened from the cold wind, hurried inside.

  “Good evening, Ma’am,” Frank said, though he was probably around the same age as Cami.

  They hung their hats and jackets on a peg rack behind the kitchen door.

  “Something sure smells good.” T-Bone rubbed his rough hands together.

  “I take no credit for the meal,” she protested. “Silky’s friends made everything.” She led them to the dining room and brought the bread to the table. “What would you like to drink?” They looked at each other but remained mute. “Water, soft drink, milk, coffee…or beer? Those are the choices.” She stood with hands on her hips, looking from one to the other.

  “Well, ma’am, if it’s all the same to you” Frank’s voice faded into a whisper.

  “A beer?” she asked and he nodded, reddening slightly. She brought three longneck bottles from the refrigerator and handed them around.

  T-bone deftly wielded the opener. Their eyes met and T-Bone raised his bottle. Frank and Cami touched their bottles to his in salute. “To Miss Silky,” he said.

  “To Aunt Silky,” she echoed.

  Frank held her chair at the head of the table. Aunt Silky’s place. Did they really expect her to take up where Silky left off? She sucked in a deep breath slid into the seat.

  After filling their plates and giving them a chance to enjoy the food, Cami cleared her throat. “I wanted to ask you gentlemen if you were familiar with the terms of Aunt Silky’s will?”

  The men stopped chewing and looked at one another.

  “Well, not exactly, Miss Cami,” T-Bone said. “She always said she was leaving everything to you. The whole shooting match.”

  “That’s what she did,” she said. “Of course, she left each of you a nice sum for your years of service.”

  “Ain’t that nice,” T-Bone said. Suddenly overcome, he buried his eyes in his napkin. His shoulders shook silently as Frank laid a rough hand on his shoulder.

  “She didn’t have to do that,” Frank’s eyes brimmed with tears. “We would have done anything for her.”

  “I’m sure she knew that,” she said.

  T-Bone wiped his nose on the linen napkin. “Sorry, Miss Cami. I just ain’t had time t
o take it all in yet.”

  “Don’t you worry none, Miss Cami,” Frank said. “We’ll do a good job for you, too.”

  “That’s what I want to discuss with you. I can’t keep the ranch.” She took a breath and plunged into her carefully rehearsed story. “You see I have to follow my lifelong dream and accept the fellowship.” She finished brightly, gazing at them with an expectant expression.

  They exchanged another knowing glance.

  T-Bone cleared his throat. “Miss Cami, I’m sure that your aunt would have wanted you to follow your heart, but this ranch meant an awful lot to her. Can’t you just give it a chance?”

  “I know Mr. Ryan’s a good man,” Frank said, “and he’d never sell out to Kincaid, but it wouldn’t be the same.”

  “What’s wrong with selling to Kincaid? Isn’t it good business to try and increase your land holdings? Aren’t a lot of small ranches going under?” She thought that playing the devil’s advocate might get them to open up.

  “That’s a fact,” T-Bone said, leaning his elbows on the table. “But the way Kincaid’s pressuring the small ranchers is a crying shame. He tried his dirty tricks on Miss Silky and she was madder’n a wet hen.”

  “Dirty tricks?” The cold tingle kissed her neck.

  T-Bone nodded. “They cut barbed wire fences and let cattle wander off. Then it got worse, slaughtered stock and poisoned tanks. Kincaid’s bunch is mean.”

  “None of the hands go to town alone for fear of getting run off the road or beat up.” Frank’s expression was grim.

  Her heart stirred with indignation. “Surely the police can do something?” Cami ached to fight back, to make things right.

  “The Sheriff’s just a toady for Kincaid. He didn’t even investigate Silky’s death.” T-Bone stopped short his tirade. He stared at her nervously.

  Her breath caught in her throat. “So you don’t think her death was an accident either?”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Cami tossed and turned in her bed. A strong north wind howled like a mournful spirit as it blew branches against the eaves and rattled window panes.