Seduced by Snowfall E-Book

Jennifer Bernard

• Herausgeber: Jennifer Bernard
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: Lost Harbor, Alaska
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Seitenzahl: 389

Beschreibung

Dr. Bethany Morrison is used to being the responsible one. The serious doctor everyone relies on. She isn’t used to needing a rescue--especially from a sexy, lighthearted firefighter like Nate Prudhoe. And yet ever since she moved to Lost Harbor, Alaska, he’s been there for her. Is it any wonder she turns to him in her most embarrassing moment—when she needs a fake boyfriend?

Nate’s more than aware that Bethany doesn’t take him seriously. And that’s fine; relationships, a family of his own…those things aren’t for him. Not when he knows how painful the loss of a loved one can be. But when he discovers a mysterious injured runaway hiding out in the firehouse, it’s his turn to ask the lovely doctor for help.

As winter closes in, the line between fake and forever keeps disappearing. How could Nate know that every moment spent with Bethany would chip away at the shield around his heart? How could Bethany guess that Nate’s brand of laid-back fun was exactly what she needed? It may take more than a snowstorm to make them see it’s okay to want it all…and to grab it before it disappears forever.

Leseprobe

SEDUCED BY SNOWFALL

JENNIFER BERNARD

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

About the Author

Also by Jennifer Bernard

CHAPTERONE

First dates were always awkward, but a hundred times more so when the man across the table had already seen her in nothing but a towel.

Oh yeah—and a plunger.

Bethany Morrison tried not to think about that mortifying moment, but Nate wasn’t making it easy. As he stood to greet her, the gleam in his gray eyes told her he remembered every second.

“Hi, Bethany. Nice to see you again.”

Again. An obvious reference to the locked-out-of-her-house-in-a-towel incident.

“Here we go,” she muttered under her breath. Commence the teasing. Mustering a smile, she gave Nate a dignified nod of her head. She was a doctor, after all. Doctors had dignity. “Hello, Nate. How are you?”

“Good, how—”

She cut him off. “I don’t have a lot of time before work, so how about we get our orders in?” She sat down in the chair that he’d pulled out for her. They’d met for dinner at Lost Harbor’s best seafood restaurant, the Nightly Catch. Heavy silver, scarlet linen tablecloths, servers dressed in black. But since this was Lost Harbor, a town of hardworking fishermen and women, fish-and-chips and mac-and-cheese were also on the menu.

Obligingly, Nate sat back down and signaled for the waitress. Bethany looked at the menu cover, which featured an etching of a fishing boat against the backdrop of Misty Bay. Beautiful.

She opened it and stared at the menu options, but couldn’t make herself focus on food. Everything was a jumble in her head—which was ridiculous because so what if Nate Prudhoe had seen her practically naked? As a doctor, she’d seen various body parts of thousands of people. It was no big deal.

“Do you have to get back to the hospital?” Nate asked, his tone nothing but polite. Which he’d been ever since she walked in, come to think of it. She was being rude, not him. Somehow that irritated her even more.

“Yes, I’m working an overnight shift tonight.”

“I know that drill. I recommend protein, no carbs. Carbs can make you sleepy, sneaky bastards. Before you know it, you’re nodding off and forgetting routine things.”

She looked at him sharply over the edge of the menu. Forgetting routine things…was that a reference to her locking herself out that night?

But he was studying the menu, a picture of innocence. With his laughing eyes and lean face, she had to admit he was good-looking. Not her type, obviously. She went for the overeducated brainy types, not the players.

Of course, that went both ways. Nate’s type was probably more like the waitress, a busty redhead who was smiling down at him as she arrived at their table.

“Heya, Nate. Haven’t seen you in a month of Tuesdays.”

“Moira Leafborn. How you been? Looking good, like always. How’s the kiddo?”

“Doing better. You need to come over and see for yourself.”

It was impossible to miss the friendly invitation in her eyes. Bethany bristled, even though it didn’t matter at all. She wasn’t interested in Nate. But she also didn’t like being ignored on her own date.

Nate gestured toward her. “This is Dr. Bethany Morrison, she’s new at the hospital.”

Moira turned a big smile her direction. “Well, look at you. Welcome to Lost Harbor. I’m Moira.” She offered a handshake. “The more doctors around, the happier I am. My kid catches every virus in a thousand-mile radius.”

She was so friendly that Bethany regretted her moment of juvenile jealousy. She shook Moira’s hand and smiled warmly at her. “I hope it’s not rude to say I hope I don’t see you soon.”

Moira laughed. “Great, a doctor with a sense of humor. Angie’s going to love you. What can I get you two? A round on the house to start with?”

Bethany waved off that offer. “I’m on shift tonight, so no alcohol for me.”

“Nate? Are you working too?”

“Nope, but I’ll pass on the wine. Solidarity.” He winked at Bethany and handed Moira the menu. “The scallop special for me.”

“Great choice. My hubby brought those in last night from Kodiak.”

And now Bethany felt like even more of an idiot. Moira was married with a kid, and her friendliness was just that. Friendliness.

This was why Bethany didn’t like dating. It brought out all her insecurities. All her life, her sister had gotten attention from men, while Bethany had gotten praise from teachers. By now, she just assumed things would go that way.

“That sounds great. I’ll have the same thing,” she said, handing over her menu.

“Making my job easy. I’ll make it fast, since you have to get to work.” With one last smile at Bethany, she whisked away the menus.

With Moira’s sociable presence gone, awkwardness fell between them again. Ugh, dates were the worst. Bethany had gone on dozens of dates set up by her first stepmother, her second stepmother, her third stepmother, and various connections of her father’s. Each one had been perfectly appropriate for her when it came to income, education, status, background, etcetera. And she’d counted the minutes through each one.

Her only successful relationships had been formed while working with someone, or studying with them. Dates were an outdated form of torture, if you asked her.

“Call me crazy, but you don’t seem like you want to be here,” Nate murmured.

She started. Were her anti-date thoughts written across her face? “Sorry. It’s just…I’m not a fan of setups.”

“Mrs. Bellini is hard to say no to.”

She laughed ruefully. “That she is. She even played the ‘I just had a stroke’ card.”

She’d treated Nicola Bellini after she’d had a stroke a few weeks ago, and the woman had decided to treat her like one of her own six children. Apparently that involved matchmaking and lots of homemade baklava. Her freezer was already full.

Nate sat back in his chair, forcing her to notice his wide shoulders and lean physique. He wore a thick blue cable-knit sweater, which was about as dressy as men got here in Lost Harbor. She had yet to spot a single blazer or dress jacket around town.

“We could always drop the date part, and just have a conversation,” he suggested.

“What about? I’m sure we have nothing in common.” She slanted a glance toward her phone to check the time. One hour until she had to get to work. But one hour in “date time” could seem like five in normal time.

“Really? We’re both in the medical field. We could talk triage techniques and blood pressure readings.”

“I might need triage after that,” she murmured.

Nate laughed. He had one of those contagious laughs that made everyone around take note. “You have a sneaky sense of humor, don’t you? It kind of springs out from the bushes when you aren’t expecting it.”

And there it was. Another reference to the night they’d met, when she’d been hiding behind some alder bushes in her towel. “Would you please stop doing that?”

“Doing what?” He cocked his head at her. He had a thick thatch of brown-butter hair that never looked entirely smooth.

“And now you’re playing innocent. It’s very annoying.”

Moira appeared with two steaming plates of scallops. Plump and lightly browned, they were the largest scallops Bethany had ever seen. The fragrance of lemon and garlic and butter made her stomach rumble. “Is Nate annoying you? He has a knack for that.”

Nate scowled at the waitress. “Turncoat. See if I babysit for you guys again.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” she added. “He’ll make you laugh too. Through the tears.”

Moira made a sassy little face at Nate as she positioned the plate in front of him.

“That’s just great, Moira. I should come here and get all my dates sabotaged. And this isn’t even a date. It’s just a conversation between two people with nothing in common.”

Bethany laughed. Then stopped herself the second she realized Moira was right. Nate did have her laughing.

“Welp, I’ll leave you two to your scallops. At least you have that in common.”

“True that. Looks great, compliments to the fisherman,” said Nate.

Moira smiled and left them to their meal.

Nate shook a cloth napkin across his lap. “Okay, before we plunge in, I should apologize.”

Plunge? Was that a plunger reference?

Bethany stabbed a fork into her scallop. “You just did it again. You can stop it with the innocent act.”

Nate actually looked confused for a moment, then he laughed. “Oops. That one slipped in there, I swear. Sometimes things just happen without you planning it.”

Was that another one? She pressed her lips together, refusing to fall for his baiting anymore. Besides, her mouth was full of the most delicious scallop she’d ever tasted, so she couldn’t stay mad. The butter-lime sauce was tart and sweet and made her practically moan with happiness.

She zoned out for one blissful stretch of time, finally coming back to herself when she realized that Nate was watching her with a slight smile and attentive eyes. “What?”

“You’re not frowning at me. I’m just soaking in the moment. It may never happen again.”

“That’s ridiculous. I’m usually very cordial.” She dabbed the napkin to her lips. “People have to make a real effort to get on my bad side.”

“Really? For me it comes so easily.”

“What can I say, you’re a natural,” she said dryly.

He took a bite of his scallops, and groaned with appreciation. “Damn, that’s good.”

“It’s beyond good. It’s amazing. I want to marry the chef.”

“You might have a problem there, unless you’re into polyamorous transsexual interracial relationships.”

She nearly choked on a mouthful of the braised greens that came with the scallops. “Excuse me?”

“The chef here is a trans man who lives with his former husband and new girlfriend. They’re all very happy together, but they might have room for one more, you never know.”

She closed her eyes, once again noticing that jumbled-up feeling. It felt as if she’d stepped onto a Ferris wheel when this “date” had started. So many ups and downs and round-and-rounds. “Can we talk about something people talk about on normal dates?”

“Wait, now it’s a date again? It’s hard to keep up, Doc. Okay, normal…hmm…” He made a show of racking his brains. “Can’t say it’s a term I know a lot about, but okay. Here’s one.” He took a moment to chew and swallow, while Bethany braced herself for a question about where she was from or what she liked about being a doctor.

“What are you going to dress up as for Halloween?” he finally asked.

She laughed in surprise. “Halloween isn’t until next month.”

“Exactly. Have you started the initial creative concept phase yet? Or maybe you’re a last-minute type?”

“I’m sorry, is this…I mean, I’m not ten anymore. Halloween costumes aren’t really on my radar.”

“Okay, then what did you dress up as when you were ten?”

“A doctor,” she admitted. “Lab coat, stethoscope, clipboard.”

Nate burst out laughing. “Well, I guess you’re all set then.”

Wow. Was she really so boring? “Maybe I’ll wear a sparkly tiara or something at the hospital. Patients do love it when we get into the Halloween spirit.”

“They do. We usually go all out at the fire station. Lost Harbor is big on Halloween, I have to warn you. Any holidays that take place during the winter season are a big deal.”

“Thanks for the warning. Are there a lot of trick-or-treaters?”

“Oh hell yes, depending on your neighborhood. Where you live, expect to get mobbed. Unless you have to work that night, or, you know, get locked out for some reason.”

“You—” But as she met his gleaming gray eyes, all her annoyance vanished and instead, she burst out laughing. “You just had to sneak in one more jab, didn’t you?”

“I did. I’m terrible. I’m sorry. I give you permission to smack me—with a plunger or something.”

“Are you done yet?”

“Yes. I swear. I just had to get it out of my system. But you know…” He leaned forward, both elbows resting on the table. His nearness made her oddly dizzy. “I wouldn’t even bother except that you shouldn’t be embarrassed at all. Do you know how many people I’ve helped out of awkward situations? It happens all the time. Old Stan the Man got stuck in his bathtub once. It took three of us to pry him out. I’ve rescued cats from telephone poles, kids from treehouses, a pet parrot from a stovepipe. Helping a woman who locked herself out of her house is no big deal.”

“It was a little more than that, you have to admit.”

“Okay, sure, maybe there was some kinky sex stuff going on with that plunger that I don’t quite get—”

“Ack! Of course there wasn’t.” She put down her fork and dropped her head into her hands. “Is that what people think?”

A warm hand touched her forearm. “Good Lord, of course not. No one thinks anything. It happened, I dealt with it, it was barely a mention in the police blotter.”

“The police blotter?”

He reached across the table and tilted her chin up so she would meet his eyes.

“Dr. Bethany Morrison, you are way too easy to tease. What I’m trying to tell you is that anyone can lock themselves out of their house, and you handled the entire thing with grace and composure. No one except you ever gave it a second thought. So what I’m curious about is you. Why are you so worried about it? Don’t you ever make mistakes? Do you always have to be perfect?”

Bethany swallowed hard and gazed at Nate in surprise. What an unnervingly perceptive question for him to ask. He returned her look steadily, with none of his usual joking manner. He waited patiently for her to answer, as if he had all the time in the world.

What an unusual concept, “all the time in the world.” She was always racing the clock, she never had enough time…

Time. Crap. What time was it, anyway? She checked her phone, which she hadn’t looked at since they’d first sat down, and holy smokes. She was actually late. This date—or whatever it was—hadn’t gone slowly. It had raced by at twice the normal speed of time.

“I have to go.” She gathered up her purse, ready to pull out her wallet.

Nate waved her off. “Don’t even think about it. Go, your patients need you.” He rose to his feet. “Thanks for enduring the setup. You made Mrs. Bellini very happy, I hope that’s some comfort. You’ll probably get some baklava out of it.”

She laughed. “Like I need any more of that. Thanks, Nate, this was…” She paused, unable to come up with the right word. “Not so bad?” she ended weakly.

He laughed. “I’ll take it.”

In all honesty, it had been a fun evening. Even his teasing had entertained her more than she’d expected. For two people who had zero in common, they’d managed to converse quite easily.

“And don’t forget that Halloween costume,” he said as she turned to go. “Doesn’t have to be fancy. A towel, a plunger…the possibilities are endless.”

She left.

Laughing.

CHAPTERTWO

Nate could still remember the call that had come in around ten o’clock that night. The dispatcher had been taking a cigarette break, so Nate had been the lucky one to field the call.

“This is going to sound ridiculous, but I just moved in and a squirrel came into my house and I was trying to chase it outside and then there was a moose and, well, long story short but I locked myself out, and I haven’t made duplicate keys yet so I don’t have a way to get inside.”

The woman had sounded out of breath and rattled—not unusual for calls to the firehouse.

“I’ll be right there. Where are you located?”

She rattled off the address, which was within walking distance. But instead of walking, he hopped in one of the department vehicles. He didn’t want to freak out a newcomer by showing up without something official-looking.

When he arrived at the house, which he recognized as a rental often leased by hospital staff, he didn’t see anyone waiting for him. Had she found a way inside? An open window or something?

“Hello, I’m from the fire department,” he called. “Anyone here?”

Then the alders rustled and someone jumped into view. A woman with wet hair and a towel wrapped around her body picked her way barefoot across the grass. She shivered in the late August night air. In one hand she held a plunger and in the other a cell phone.

“Hi. This is extremely embarrassing, but I happened to be in the shower when the squirrel came in and…”

He held up his hand. “No explanation needed.” His gaze strayed to the toilet plunger. “Although that…”

“I was in the bathroom, it was the only thing on hand.” She waved it at him. “It worked on the squirrel.”

He glanced at her other hand. “And you just happened to have your cell phone with you?”

“That’s the only lucky part. While I was chasing the squirrel, I saw a moose right outside the window.” She gestured toward the bushes along one side of her house. “I’ve been wanting to get a good moose photo ever since I got here, so I grabbed my phone. The plunger is in case he attacked me.”

“Word of advice, never try to fight a moose with a plunger,” he said gravely.

Even with just the light from the front porch, he could see her flush. “Yes, I…can you just…maybe just get my door open?”

He showed her the tool he’d brought, which might or might not work on the front door. “I may have to pry open a window if this doesn’t work. Do you want to sit in the car while I work on it? Heater’s going.”

“That’s okay. I’ve never been in a police car before.”

“It’s not technically a police car, it just looks like one. I’m a firefighter. One of only three staff firefighters in town. Mostly we’re a volunteer department.”

She gestured with the plunger again. “Can you just…”

“Of course.” He strode to the door and inserted the pick. “I can tell you’re new around here because a lot of people in Lost Harbor don’t even lock their doors. Some don’t even have locks to start with.”

“That’s crazy. I could never live like that.” She shivered again.

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait in the car? I promise not to arrest you unless you use that plunger inappropriately.”

She finally let go of the plunger and propped it against the front steps. “I’m a doctor.”

“Okay.” He wasn’t sure why she felt compelled to mention that.

“I got straight A’s all the way through college. I don’t usually make boneheaded mistakes like locking myself out of my house.”

“Well, pobody’s nerfect.”

“Excuse me?”

“Things happen. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“That advice sounds good, but is it really? That’s how I got through med school, by beating myself up.”

“Suit yourself, then.” He wiggled the pick in the lock. “Hey, I left my jacket in the backseat if you want to grab that.”

She padded across the lawn to the car and used one hand to hold her towel together while she opened the door with the other. When she returned, she wore his navy blue Lost Harbor Fire Department jacket over the towel, which made for an interesting—and surprisingly sexy—look.

He ignored that fact and focused on the lock.

“Where’s the squirrel? In the house or out?” he asked as he felt the tumblers give way.

“I’m not actually sure,” she admitted. “I thought I chased him out, but it was all a blur.”

“Understandable. All right, you might want to step back.”

She didn’t budge. “Why?”

He shrugged and opened the door.

A ball of fur streaked between her legs. She shrieked and lost her balance. He reached out to grab her before she hit the ground, and her towel fell away. Luckily, she still wore his jacket, which covered her all the way to her upper thighs.

Windmilling her arms in the air, she crashed into him and the next thing he knew, he was tumbling backwards. She was falling too, and by instinct, he grabbed her so he’d land first, with her on top.

Which was how he found himself sprawled on the grass with a naked stranger on top of him.

Just as stunned as he was, she stared into his eyes. Pretty eyes, he noticed. A clear light brown, like the polyurethane he’d just put on his new floor.

He laughed at the lameness of that comparison. But the woman on top of him must have thought he was laughing at her, because she scrambled off him.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She snatched up the towel and turned her back to him. Even though he knew he shouldn’t look, he caught a glimpse of slim legs under his jacket before she wrapped the towel around herself again.

“I’m fine. Are you?”

“Not sure yet.” Gingerly, he flexed his back muscles. He’d slammed pretty hard onto the ground, and even though he prided himself on his fitness, he could have easily tweaked something.

“Well, the good news is that I’m a doctor, so let me know if you suspect an injury.” Covered up again with the towel, she turned to face him and watched as he pushed himself into a seated position.

“I wasn’t laughing at you, you know,” he told her. He rolled his shoulders, then his neck. Everything seemed to be in working order.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you were. This has not been my night. Just one thing after another. It wouldn’t surprise me if I left a burner on this whole time.” She reached out a hand to help him up, but he waved her off.

“Thanks, but I’d better not risk it. I came here to rescue you. Seems like a long time ago, come to think of it.”

She laughed. The clouds shifted and moonlight spangled her hair, which seemed to be a soft shade of blond but looked more like silver in this light. “You got the door open, so you accomplished your mission. Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome.” He made his way to his feet and brushed the grass off his pants. “Name’s Nate Prudhoe, by the way.”

“I’m Bethany Morrison.”

“Shouldn’t it be Doctor Bethany Morrison?”

A faint flash of surprise crossed her face. “Yes. Doctor. But you don’t have to call me that when I’m standing in my front yard in a towel. Do you mind waiting here for a minute while I get dressed? I’ll bring your jacket right out.”

“Sure thing, Doc.”

With a wry smile, she disappeared inside the house, closing the door firmly behind her. He spent a moment thinking of all the women he’d known who would have invited him inside at that point. Bethany Morrison clearly was not one of them.

A squirrel chittered from the treetops. Nate brandished a fist toward it. “Troublemaker.”

From his rig, his radio crackled. He walked to his car and listened to the call coming in. Grease fire over at the Grant homestead. He scrawled a quick note on a pad of paper and pierced it onto the handle of the plunger, which he planted

smack in the middle of the path where she couldn’t miss it.

Got called to another emergency. Drop my jacket at the firehouse when you get a chance. Welcome to Lost Harbor, Dr. Morrison. Don’t let the squirrels freak you out, they’re nothing compared to the bears.

The next day, he strolled into the firehouse to find his jacket carefully folded on the front reception desk.

It had a note pinned to it, similar to the note he’d left on her plunger.

Thanks for your help last night. I left a thank you gift in your pocket.

Best wishes, Bethany.

Curious, he unfolded his jacket and searched his pockets. From one of them, he drew out a large gold foil-wrapped chocolate in the shape of a moose.

He laughed, both at her sneaky sense of humor and the surprising thoughtfulness of the gift. How did a busy doctor have time to hunt down a gift to give someone who’d merely been doing his job? Maybe it came from the gift shop at the hospital.

Or maybe she was just raised that way—he got that impression, actually. There was something elusively upscale about her, as if she’d been raised with perfect manners and scolded whenever she stepped outside the lines. Maybe that was why she’d been so mortified by locking herself out of her house.

If so, she was in for a real culture shock here in Lost Harbor. People around here didn’t care about status or even money much—although everyone wanted a nice bank account. It was a down-to-earth, survive-the-winter kind of place. Quite a few people still used outhouses, at least outside the town limits. The standard Lost Harbor outfit involved rubber boots and a thick hoodie sporting a stray fish scale or two.

What on earth would Ms. Rich-Girl Doctor make of the characters who called this place home? She was about to get a crash course on rugged Alaska living.

He almost wished for a front row seat to the show, but the chances of that seemed low. Another woman might have left her phone number in his pocket—something that had happened to him before. She hadn’t invited him in. She hadn’t left him her number. By his count, that was two whiffs of the bat.

Did this “date” make whiff number three? Had he struck out for good with Dr. Bethany Morrison? When Mrs. Bellini had first mentioned her name, he’d almost laughed at the serendipity of it. Of all the women to set him up with, why choose the new doctor who’d made it pretty clear she wasn’t in the market for anything Nate-related?

But then he’d decided, why not? Why pass up a chance to see what she looked like in something other than a towel? And as a side benefit, tease her a little about their first meeting?

Well, the joke was on him, because it turned out that she was beautiful in her own subtle way. She probably thought of her hair as a kind of dishwater blond, but he would always see it as “moonlight” blond, since he’d first seen her in the moonlight. Her eyes—okay, polyurethane wasn’t the best description—had a soft, light-filled quality that appealed to him.

His overall impression of Bethany Morrison? Intelligent, kind, dedicated…and serious. The kind of serious that made him want to play the jokester to make her smile.

Good thing that was his specialty. Making people laugh? Easy-peasy. Being serious—a whole different story.

CHAPTERTHREE

At Misty Bay Regional Hospital, Bethany went straight to the locker room to change into her scrubs. She’d recently gotten board-certified in family medicine, but positions had been in big demand. It had taken several interviews at various hospitals before she’d been offered the position here. Misty Bay Regional definitely hadn’t been her first choice, but it had turned out to have hidden benefits.

One: It couldn’t be farther from Connecticut and still be part of the United States. Every day, she blessed the four-hour time difference between Alaska and the Greenwich home of her father and third stepmother.

Two: The hospital was small enough so that she got the opportunity to treat a wide variety of injuries and illnesses. Her specialty of family medicine didn’t limit her the way it might at a bigger hospital.

Three: A remote community like this really valued anyone who came from so far away to provide medical assistance. She’d already been gifted with smoked salmon, a can of bear spray, and a pendant carved from a narwhal tusk.

Four. Dr. Ian Finnegan. The perfect man. Visiting neurosurgeon, single, good-looking—basically pure perfection in human form.

She sighed deeply as she draped her stethoscope around her neck. If she and Ian began dating, her father might finally stop being disappointed in her. He hadn’t wanted her to become a doctor at all. Only three types of professions earned his respect—the legal, the financial, and the political. “That’s where the power is,” he’d tried to explain to her. “Those three. Nowhere else.”

“What about the power to save someone’s life, or to heal them?”

He’d gestured impatiently with his glass of Scotch. “How many times are you going to have a patient with any kind of power or status in the world?”

“But—that’s not—”

He’d raised a finger, remembering something. “For women, there’s also beauty. Bonus secret weapon. Your sister’s got the advantage there. It’s all in who you can attract. Maybe some tips from your stepmother would help.”

After that demoralizing conversation, she’d simply put her head down and focused on finishing her degree before she lost all motivation.

Now that she had her medical degree, Daddy claimed to be proud of her. But deep in her heart, she knew that he felt more comfortable with Gretel, her gorgeous man-magnet half-sister.

In the A wing, she checked in with the nurse coordinator, a longtime Lost Harbor resident named Kara Lee. “Let the night shift commence. What do we have tonight?”

“Nothing new to speak of, but the night is young.” Kara Lee rattled off updates on the patients waiting for attention. A sixteen-year-old kid had skateboarded into a car and broken his right femur. An eighty-two-year-old farmer had accidentally shot himself in the toe when he’d heard a sound outside his woodshed and gone to investigate. A pregnant mother of twin toddlers had been hospitalized for exhaustion and dehydration. There were also two opioid overdoses and one burn victim—a young woman who lived off the grid and had overdone it with the candles.

Bethany decided to check on the mother first. Not only did she have a soft spot for anyone raising children, but something about the case was bothering her. She’d presented with symptoms consistent with simple pregnancy-related exhaustion—fatigue, depression, dizziness—and certainly her life had to be exhausting. Her husband worked on the North Slope on a two-week-on, two-week-off schedule. When he was gone, Abby Noonan took care of a seven-year-old and her two toddlers alone.

Bethany had put her on IV fluids right away and they had helped. Abby claimed that she was already feeling better and was more than ready to go back to her family.

Exhaustion made perfect sense, but what if something else was going on? She’d also talked about dropping things more than normal and experiencing “brain glitches.” That kind of thing could be hormone-related…or it could be a danger sign.

Bethany knocked lightly on the door to her room, then pushed it open. Abby was sitting up in bed, cuddling with one of her twins. The other snuggled into the arms of Abby’s husband, a brawny, bald-headed man whose arms showed more ink than bare skin. It made her smile to see such an enormous man holding a baby so gently.

Both the Noonans smiled at her as she approached. “How are you feeling, Abby?”

“So much better. I wish I could take this lil buddy home with me.” She patted the IV stand next to the bed.

Bethany smiled as she examined the monitors. Oxygen saturation was good, pulse ox slightly elevated but within normal range. She checked the latest bloodwork results. Potassium, iron and B12 levels were within range. The IV fluids were definitely helping to rehydrate her and restore her system.

But still…

“Abby, everything here is looking good. But I wanted to ask if you’d be willing to try an MRI. It’s a scan of your brain—”

“I know what that is. I’ve seen Grey’s Anatomy. But why?”

Right. These days, everyone knew all the medical tools and tricks. “I just want to rule out the possibility that something else is causing the dizziness and other symptoms. If there’s any chance of a neurological cause, it would be best if we caught it early.”

“Like what?” Earl Noonan spoke up in a voice as deep and gravelly as an oil field.

“There are a few possibilities.” She didn’t want to be more specific because that might freak them out even more. The phrase “brain tumor” was terrifying, and also a bit simplistic. “This is more a case of ruling things out.”

They exchanged one of those long glances that sometimes made her wistful. These two were in a solid, tightly bonded partnership, raising their family and putting their all into making a life together. With her history—three stepmothers was a lot—couples like that made her feel like a kid with her face pressed against a store window. What must it be like in there?

“If you think it’s a good idea, okay,” Abby finally said. “We trust you.”

“Thank you. I’m honored. And I promise it won’t hurt a bit. We have an excellent neurosurgeon who happens to be here at the moment, which is why I want to do this now. He’ll be leaving next week.” Bethany entered the order into the hospital’s computerized system, along with a request for a consult with Dr. Finnegan.

And no, she scolded her conscience, this wasn’t an excuse to work with Ian. She didn’t need an excuse. The hospital was so small that whenever he was here, she ran into him frequently. They’d gotten into the habit of sharing lunches and coffee runs. He was based in Anchorage but had contracts with many rural hospitals throughout Alaska.

Highly skilled specialists like him weren’t easy to find in this state, so he was very sought after.

She said goodbye to the Noonans and headed for her next patient. And there in the corridor—as gorgeous as a mirage at sunset—was Dr. Finnegan himself, randomly standing in the middle of the hallway, completely oblivious to everything around him as he studied a readout of lab results.

She paused for a moment to appreciate the sight. With his geeky black-rimmed glasses and hair always in need of a trim, Ian had no clue how attractive he was. She knew this because he’d told her that he’d spent his entire youth as a studious high-achiever who didn’t have a girlfriend until college. He’d broken his nose in a third-grade dodgeball accident. He hadn’t bothered with the surgery to fix it until his senior year—a complete “ugly duckling turned swan” moment. Suddenly he was considered attractive. But he’d still felt like a geek inside.

From what she knew of him, none of that had changed. He was just as serious and focused as she was, which made them…soul mates, right?

“Hi, Ian,” she said softly, not wanting to startle him out of his trance.

He didn’t answer.

“Ian.” She tried again, more loudly. Finally he looked up and blinked at her.

“Oh, hey there, Bethany. I didn’t hear you. Or see you. Sorry.”

She smothered a sigh. Did he actually know she existed? Sometimes she wondered.

“You might want to move out of the corridor,” she suggested. “Sometimes the paramedics come flying through here.”

“Right. Right.” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “Sorry, I just got a very interesting set of lab results from that acoustic neuroma. I’d love to bounce some ideas off you.”

She knew the patient he was talking about, but it always bothered her when doctors referred to the disease rather than the person. However, since Ian was Ian, she gave him a pass. One little flaw could be forgiven.

Especially since he wanted to “bounce ideas” off her. If only that were a veiled metaphor, but she knew perfectly well that it wasn’t.

“Want to discuss it over a quick coffee? I’m on the night shift tonight.”

“Sounds like a plan. I have to make it quick, though. This is a short stint for me. Five days.”

Five days?? Her heart sank. How was she going to make any progress with Ian in five days? At this rate, it would be more like five years before he noticed that she was a perfectly qualified potential partner for him.

“Let’s make the most of it, then,” she said. Would he pick up on the ever-so-slight invitation in her voice?

Of course not.

It occurred to her that she knew someone who would—Nate Prudhoe. Nate didn’t miss a thing. Not a hint, not an invitation, not an opportunity for a joke. None of it passed by without him noticing.

Could she somehow graft that quality onto Dr. Ian Finnegan? The neurosurgeon was great when it came to diagnosing brains, but when it came to a sense of humor, she’d have to give Nate the edge.

CHAPTERFOUR

In the cafeteria—which was little more than a coffee station and a cooler with premade sandwiches—they sat at a table in the corner and scanned the lab work.

“Why are you here for only five days?” she asked. “Where are you off to next?”

“There’s an odd rash of polyneuropathy cases in Barrow, so I need to spend a bit longer there.”

“I’ve never been to Barrow. Actually, it’s Utqiaġvik now, did you know?” And that was another hint—not that he’d get it. If he requested her help in Barrow—Utqiaġvik—she could probably get permission to travel with him. The hospital staff bent over backwards for Ian.

“Hmm. Take a look at this here.” He directed her attention to the electrolyte levels on the scan, and that was the end of that topic. Damn it. Why was he so blind to all of her efforts to further things between them? She knew he was single and straight.

Maybe she needed to be more obvious.

“If you need assistance on your trip to Barrow, I can probably get some time off.”

He didn’t look up from the paperwork. “The hospital up there has an excellent staff. I’m in good shape as far as that goes.”

Goddamn it. This was beyond frustrating.

She sipped her coffee. Why did all hospital coffee taste so terrible? It was like some kind of immutable law. Usually she brought a thermos of her own dark roast, but her non-date with Nate had thrown off her schedule.

It hadn’t been hard to get Nate to pay attention to her.

“Ian,” she said abruptly.

Finally he looked up at her. “Yes?”

“Have you ever tried scallops from Kodiak?”

“What?” He blinked at her.

“Earlier tonight, I went to a restaurant in town called the Nightly Catch, and I ordered scallops that had been caught by the waitress’ husband. They were twice the size of ordinary scallops. I guess that’s the Alaska effect in action. You know, like the giant pumpkins they grow here in the summer.”

She could practically read his confusion on his perfectly formed features. What the heck is she babbling about now?

“Anyway, I just thought that you might enjoy them too, while you’re in Lost Harbor. The scallops,” she reminded him, when he looked blank.

His gaze sharpened, and he finally seemed to be zeroing in on her. Had she finally managed to pierce through his obliviousness? Hope rose in her heart that he’d put it together and suggest a trip to the Nightly Catch.

“Scallops,” he repeated. “Now that’s a very interesting thought. I hadn’t considered that possibility. How could I have been so blind?”

“I…don’t know, but it’s never too late. Perhaps tomorrow we could—”

“No no, we need to get on this right away. No need to wait.”

“But I already…okay, sure. I can eat again.” Maybe she could move her dinner break up. Except she was pretty sure the Nightly Catch closed at nine, the way most restaurants in Lost Harbor did. Only the bars and the liquor store stayed open this late.

“Eat? No. Test. I need to find out if anyone in Barrow has been eating scallops or mussels or any other seafood prone to toxic blooms.”

He was already tapping a text on his phone.

Oh.

Bethany dropped her head onto one hand, elbow resting on the table, and watched Ian fire off an order to the hospital in Barrow. He sure looked good while he was being oblivious to her presence. It gave her a chance to appreciate the firm line of his jaw and his absurdly long eyelashes. How was it fair for a brainy brain surgeon to also be so attractive? And so unaware of his own attractiveness?

Granted, he didn’t smell as good as Nate did, which was odd. Nate spent his time doing hands-on work with rescue victims and firefighting rigs. There was no reason why he should smell as yummy as he did, and yet, Bethany had been acutely aware of it all evening. If she could transform “curling up in a comfy leather armchair next to a fire with a perfect mug of coffee and a cinnamon roll in hand” into a fragrance, it would smell exactly like Nate.

Whereas Ian… She sniffed. Hand sanitizer with a slight whiff of tuna from the boxed sandwiches in the cooler.

“Do I smell bad?” Ian asked her self-consciously. “I spilled soup on myself earlier.”

Of all moments for Ian to finally notice her.

“No, it’s just a little bit of sniffles.”

“Don’t forget to use plenty of hand sanitizer for that. Hospital protocol.”

Yes, Dad, she almost said. “Thanks, I’m sure I will. I always follow protocol. That’s what will probably end up on my tombstone. ‘She always followed protocol.’”

For a long moment, it seemed that he wouldn’t get her joke. Not because he didn’t have a sense of humor, but because his mind was so busy with other things. But finally her words broke through, and he indulged himself in a chuckle. “That’s quite funny.”

“I’ve been told I have a sneaky sense of humor.” Sorry, Nate, hope you don’t mind if I quote your compliment.

“So you do. Well, I’d better get on with it. I’ll let you know the results of whatever testing they do up in Barrow.”

“Great. Something to look forward to.”

But her brief window of attention from Ian had already evaporated, and he didn’t laugh at that joke.

She knew, without question, that Nate Prudhoe would have gotten it in a snap.

“Before you leave, can you make sure to check on Abby Noonan? I ordered an MRI for her.”

“Of course.”

Her pager buzzed. The elderly man with the gunshot wound. He was an interesting character, but he loved to yarn on about his old days on the homestead. A trip to his room would take at least half an hour.

She looked up and discovered that Ian had already wandered off.

Face it, Bethy. He’s not into you. You’re wasting your time with him. Keep it moving and find some other dork. She could practically hear her sister’s lecture. Gretel knew that sort of thing instinctively, as if she’d been born with built-in knowledge about male behavior.

Or maybe she’d just accumulated it during the busy nonstop social life she’d enjoyed since the age of thirteen or so.

She and Gretel used to joke that if they put Bethany’s study skills together with Gretel’s people skills, maybe they’d come up with one daughter who might actually please Lloyd Morrison.

Speaking of her father… Her cell phone buzzed with the ringtone she’d assigned to him—the ABBA song “Money Money Money.” Perfect timing, because she had a built-in excuse to end the call early, since she was already hurrying down the hallway toward Mr. Bruner, the gunshot wound.

She clicked the button to answer the call. “Hi Daddy, I only have a second to talk.”

“Darling, you always say that, and there’s really no need. We’ve come to expect it.” Oh joy. Gemma, stepmom number three, was also on the line. She made that comment in her slightly clipped British accent, which always made her sound offended.

“Sorry.” Was that a record? Apologizing within the first thirty seconds of a phone call? Bethany cringed. Somehow Gemma always brought out her placating side. “What’s up?”

“Well, we just found out that an old friend of Lloyd’s is flying to Alaska for a hunting trip.”

“You remember him, Tinkle.” Her father’s powerful voice pushed past Gemma’s like a bulldog knocking over a vase. And of course he had to use the nickname she despised. “Blaine Weston. You used to play tennis with him at the club.”

“Yes, I remember him,” she said flatly. None of her memories of Blaine were good. The worst was when he’d teased her into flashing him after a tennis match, then made scornful comments about her chest to his friends. She’d even told her father about it, but he’d brushed it off as “boys’ talk.”

“Sorry, I won’t be able to see him.”

“Why not?” Gemma demanded. “He says he’ll take a detour to Lost Harbor. That’s the name of the town, isn’t it? Such a ridiculous name. How can you lose an entire harbor?”

Bethany rolled her eyes at the gratuitous jab at her new home. She had no idea how long she’d be in Lost Harbor, but it had done nothing to earn Gemma’s scorn.

“You can tell him not to bother. I won’t have time to see him.”

“I very much think that you will.” When her father got that authoritarian edge in his voice, all of Bethany’s hackles went up.

“I make my own choices about who I want to see—” she began.

“Do I need to remind you who financed your medical degree? Against my better judgement?”

Oh, come on. Was her father really going to pull that card? How many times could he use it? Was she doomed to answer to him for the rest of her life because he’d paid for medical school?

If she’d known that, she would have sold an organ or two to pay her own way.