With These Two Hands Read online

  With These Two Hands: A Small Town Romance

  Canyon Creek, CO, Book 4

  Lori Ryan

  Kay Manis

  RMI Publishing LLC

  Copyright 2018, RMI Publishing LLC

  All rights reserved.

  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.

  Contents

  Other Books By Lori and Kay

  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

  Epilogue

  About the Authors

  Other Books By Lori and Kay

  To find all of the Canyon Creek Series Novels, visit Lori and Kay at www.loriandkay.com! We’ve got a lot more coming in this world. Stay tuned at the end of the book for a sneak peek of the next book.

  Lori’s Series can be found at www.loriryanromance.com and include:

  The Sutton Capital Series

  The Sutton Capital Intrigue

  The Sutton Capital On the Line Series

  The Heroes of Evers, TX Series

  Kay’s Series can be found at http://kaymanis.com and include:

  The X-Treme Love Series

  The Miracle Short Story Series

  Chapter One

  There was something very off about the cat.

  Kayleigh Montgomery narrowed her eyes on the tabby in front of her. The animal was actually talking to her. And it looked remarkably like the Cheshire Cat in an off-Broadway adaptation of Alice and Wonderland she’d seen as a child.

  The cat’s mouth was wider than it should have been for it’s face, but given the fact it was talking, the size of its mouth was the least of the problems Kayleigh needed to address.

  “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,” the cat said with a broad smile, his voice sounding eerily similar to her veterinary technician, Shelly Penagrove.

  Kayleigh jumped, sitting up in her chair with a start. Oh hell, had she fallen asleep?. “Shelly?” She wiped her eyes and blinked several times as her vet tech’s form came into view in the doorway. “What is it?”

  “Nothing, honey.” Shelly smiled. She was fiercely protective, and a Godsend when it came to keeping the vet clinic running smoothly.

  Kayleigh stared from Shelly to her desk. A monstrous stack of patient files sat on one side and a growing pile of bills on the other. She was tempted to close her eyes at the sight of the workload, but feared she might doze off again if she did.

  “Did I fall asleep?” Kayleigh asked.

  She wouldn’t be surprised given the way her morning had started. She’d been awakened at 5:00am by the ear-piercing ringtone of her cell phone. The call had pulled her away from a steamy dream involving herself and Zac Efron. His muscled clad chest had been a far better fantasy than the freaky talking cat.

  The call had been from George Lucado, manager at the Rutherford Ranch, one of the most lucrative cattle ranches in Colorado, and one of her biggest clients at her veterinary clinic. There was no way she’d been able to ignore the call.

  Not with the bills she had to pay and the three year loan forgiveness contract that had brought her to Canyon Creek in the first place about to expire.

  Shelly’s smile was indulgent. “I think you did fall asleep. But only for a second. You didn’t miss anything important. I brought you some lunch from Antonio’s. I know you haven’t eaten all day.”

  As if on cue, Kayleigh’s stomach growled.

  Antonio’s Italian Restaurant made the best manicotti she’d ever tasted, and that was saying something since she’d grown up in Boston. Unfortunately, she didn’t taste Italian food often. The calories tended to cling to her thighs.

  “And I snuck you a snickerdoodle cookie from Sally’s.”

  Sally Sumner owned The Sweet Spot Bakery and made the best desserts in all of Colorado, perhaps the world. Kayleigh limited her visits to Sally’s as well. Her hips were already wide enough.

  “Are you trying to push me into bigger sized jeans?” Kayleigh laughed.

  “Girl, please.” Shelly swatted her hand in the air. “You look amazing. I swear half the men only bring their pets in because they want to get a glimpse of that ass of yours. Some of the ladies too,” Shelly grumbled.

  Kayleigh shook her head. Some people called her body voluptuous. Her mother said it was just another word for fat. Curves are one thing, Kayleigh Marie, but honestly, who’s going to want to marry a woman whose hips barely fit through the front door?

  Shelly was oblivious to the lecture going on in Kayleigh’s head. “Of course, they could come because of my dazzling smile,” her tech said.

  “I think most come because of the discounted prices,” Kayleigh smirked. She’d had two clients that morning who asked if they could get a discount or barter for services.

  “That’s definitely true,” Shelly said. “You need to learn to say no more, Kayleigh.”

  Kayleigh’s head fell back. “I know.” And she did. Her practice wouldn’t make it much longer if she kept trading for goods, or worse yet, nothing at all. There were times when she’d waived off someone’s fee altogether because she knew they were facing hard times.

  She stifled another yawn and wished for the tenth time that day that she’d been given just one more hour of sleep.

  This morning’s call had been about a calf stuck in the barbed wire fence, a fence Kayleigh had told George to fix at least three times over the last month. After she’d helped the ranch staff wrangle the calf free and tended to his wounds—in the pouring rain—it had been nearly 7:00 a.m. She’d rushed to the office, preparing for surgery on a dog that had ingested half a spool of dental floss. Two hours later she’d successfully removed the floss that had twisted around his small intestines and placed him in post-op observation. And after that, her day had officially begun.

  Her first scheduled patient had been Smokey, a British shorthair cat that belonged to Paula Sloane, the owner of the local bookstore, Once Upon a Book. Smokey had a bladder infection. During the examination, the cat had peed in Kayleigh’s face.

  Kayleigh lived next door to the clinic, but two showers and a half gallon of Chanel No. 5 hadn’t defeated the lingering smell. Paula was lucky she owned the book store and discreetly ordered Kayleigh’s steamy romance novels. Otherwise she might have booted the cat, and Paula, out the window.

  “Eat,” Shelly said, nodding toward the container.

  Kayleigh didn’t wait to be told again. The aroma coming from the container was too hard to resist, even if she’d wanted to.

  “You�
�ve got ten minutes before J.D. gets here with Pebbles.” J.D. Ferguson’s cat was a frequent flier in Kayleigh’s clinic.

  “Again?” It was hard to ask the question around a mouthful of four-cheese manicotti, but Kayleigh managed it.

  “Apparently Pebbles has been throwing up. She ransacked her treat box.”

  “I told J.D. to put those treats in a sealed container.”

  “He did.” Shelly shrugged. “Pebbles is one smart cat, though. J.D. said she got into the top cabinet, knocked down the container and popped open the lid herself.”

  “Sure she did.” Kayleigh rolled her eyes. More likely J.D. gave in to his cat’s mewls and opened the container for her, then let her eat her fill.

  She understood though. For many people, their pets were their children, and they couldn’t say no.

  Kayleigh had never been allowed to have pets growing up. Her mother had said she was allergic, but Kayleigh had a feeling her socialite mother simply thought pets were beneath people of their station.

  It wasn’t until she visited her grandmother’s farm in Texas as a young girl that she finally understood the connection a human being could have with an animal. And because of that understanding, Kayleigh never questioned the quirky actions of her patients. People loved their pets, so she would do anything she could to save them. Especially in J.D.’s case.

  His wife of forty-two years had passed away from cancer six months ago. Pebbles had been integral in keeping J.D.’s spirits up. Animals had the ability to save people from loneliness and despair and Kayleigh never underestimated their power to heal humans, emotionally and physically.

  Kayleigh pushed back her chair and stood, taking another bite of her food.

  She’d only managed a few bites of the gooey goodness. Sometimes manicotti from Antonio’s was better than sex. Not that she’d know. Life in a small town didn’t lend itself to a lot of sexual partners. Especially when the median age was fifty-seven.

  Shelly turned to leave. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She dug into her pocket and pulled out a wad of envelopes. “The mail came earlier.” She tossed the stack on the desk.

  Kayleigh barely registered her words as she forked in one more mouthful of manicotti. She moaned. Antonio’s manicotti really was better than sex.

  “I know it’s the best, right?” Shelly said. “There are a few bills in there.” She nodded toward the stack of envelopes.

  Kayleigh rolled her eyes. “What else is new?”

  “Oh, and there’s a letter in there from the AVMA. It says it has dated material inside. Probably your license renewal or something.”

  The American Veterinary Medical Association.

  Kayleigh swallowed the bite of manicotti that threatened to choke her. The letter wasn’t about her renewal but Kayleigh didn’t want to think about that right now. Nor did she want to talk about the final notice the association was sending.

  “Thanks,” she said, wiping her mouth. “I’ll be right out.”

  Kayleigh thumbed through the pile of mail. A thick envelope made of heavy stationary stuck out among the others. It clearly contained more than just a card and was easily identifiable as the kind that contained a wedding invitation. The return address said Mr. and Mrs. Charles D. Van Wyck.

  Kayleigh stiffened and fell down into her chair.

  “Fancy,” Shelly commented, reading over Kayleigh’s shoulder.

  Kayleigh nodded once.

  “I didn’t know you know people on the East Coast. Is that where you’re from?”

  Kayleigh’s response was a noncommittal murmur. It wasn’t a detail she shared.

  “You all right?” Shelly stepped toward her.

  “I’m fine.” Kayleigh pushed the envelopes aside with a wave of her hand. “I’ll finish this later.” She picked up the rest of her food and closed the lid, rising and sticking it into the small fridge against the wall.

  A buzzing sound in the hallway alerted them that someone had entered the waiting room.

  “Oh, no,” Shelly said, checking her watch. “J.D. is early. I’ll go check him in while you wash up.”

  Kayleigh nodded. She needed to open that invitation, but not in front of anyone else.

  “Let’s hope he doesn’t try to pay with a jar of pickled beets again.” Shelly laughed.

  “I hate beets.” Kayleigh made a face.

  “And yet, you keep accepting them as payment.”

  “Thanks again for the food.” Kayleigh half smiled. “And the mail.”

  “Sure thing.” Shelly quietly shut the door behind her.

  Kayleigh picked up the ivory linen envelope addressed to "Miss Kayleigh Montgomery.” Of course her family wouldn’t acknowledge that she was a doctor. A veterinarian didn’t count as a doctor in the Montgomery family, or so her mother had said.

  She broke the seal and pulled out the invitation.

  A small note fell to the ground. Kayleigh bent to pick it up, the food in her stomach turning to stone as she did.

  Would love to see you, Lee Lee.

  He didn’t need to sign it. Her father was the only one she allowed to use the nickname. He must have asked Mrs. Van Wyck to slip the note into her invitation.

  Kayleigh stared down at the writing on the weighty card.

  Mr. and Mrs. Charles D. Van Wyck request the honor of your presence at the marriage of their daughter, Brittany DeeAnn to Dr. Hunter Baines Montgomery, son of Dr. and Mrs. Robert Edward Montgomery.

  Her brother was getting married, in less than a month. A tight band of regret pinched her chest.

  She couldn’t go home. Not now. Not even for Hunter.

  Chapter Two

  Aaron Sumner stared blankly at the familiar face across the table from him. She sat just a few feet away but to Aaron, it could have been a million miles.

  Dr. Bonnie Ewing was Aaron’s attending physician in the surgical residency at Northwestern Memorial Hospital. Today, he wasn’t here as her student though, he was her patient.

  Aaron could see her lips moving, but her words sounded muffled, like she was talking underwater.

  He shook his head to clear the noise buzzing in his head. “So, what are you saying, Bonnie?”

  Bonnie normally looked at Aaron with admiration, and a small bit of pride. Her expression was different today, darker, sadder. The permanent frown line between her brows deepened as her expression washed over with a look of sympathy mixed with regret.

  Aaron’s stomach tightened. He could tell Dr. Ewing’s news would be devastating, not just for Aaron but for the entire surgical team.

  “We’re out of medications, Aaron. I’m sorry.”

  After he’d noticed his hand shaking one day while still in medical school, Aaron had received the devastating diagnosis of essential tremor. For years now, he’d managed the disease with medication. When the first drug failed, he’d moved to a combination of other medications suggested by his neurologist. And so far, they’d worked. His hands rarely trembled anymore.

  But last week, he’d been in the middle of heart surgery and his hand had slipped.

  He’d known in that moment any involuntary movement of his hand could possibly cause a fatal wound and kill the patient. He’d had to turn the surgery over to another surgeon in attendance and watch as they finished his procedure.

  Over the weekend, he’d had a few more instances of the rhythmic shaking of his hands that characterized his essential tremor. Once while holding a glass of water, the other while simply trying to turn the page of a book. There was no medically identifiable cause for his condition. God knew he’d researched it. And worse yet, no cure or treatment. Only management.

  “Can’t we alter the dosages? Try a different combination?” There was a hint of desperation in his voice but he masked it with annoyance. There had to be something they could do. He’d functioned for years with his condition.

  More than functioned. He was at the top of his field.

  “I’m afraid it’s more than that, Aaron,” said the man sitting next t
o Bonnie.

  Aaron turned to stare at the man who’d been an integral part of his career since he’d first arrived in Chicago almost eight years ago.

  Dr. Morris Bellinger stared at him, his dark brown eyes filled with an emotion Aaron couldn’t read. As the department head of one of the nation’s most prestigious surgical departments, it was Dr. Bellinger’s job to remain unemotional when speaking with patients and staff. It was something he excelled at.

  Aaron turned to the only other person in the room who might be able to save him.

  Dr. Kevin Henshaw sat quietly at the head of the large conference room, hands clasped in front of him. He’d hoped the head of neurology would be his champion.

  “There has to be something else we can try,” Aaron said. The room fell silent.

  Aaron wanted to scream. How could everyone be so damned calm? This was his career on the line. His dream. He had to try to make them see reason. “Look, you said my MRIs are clear, right, Kevin?”

  “Yes.” Kevin said.

  He knew Dr. Henshaw was a man of few words but Aaron pushed him. “So, I can take a few weeks off and try to change the dosages on my meds. Something will work.”

  Aaron had taken himself off the surgery schedule as soon as the incident in the operating theatre happened. He wouldn’t put his patients at risk.