Nate Ramsey, physician assistant, heard the buzzer on his clinic door. Not another emergency! Busy sewing up a local rancher who'd torn his arm on barbed wire, Nate awkwardly leaned out of the examining room.
"Have a seat," he called, "unless you've got a head injury or are hemorrhaging."
"If you're Nathan Ramsey," said a woman who stepped into view, "I'll wait to have a word with you."
"Okay."
His lips automatically formed a silent whistle of approval for the attractive stranger. Her voice was melodic with a trace of an accent Nate couldn't place, and in this remote southwestern corner of Idaho women dressed in trim navy suits only for funerals. He retreated, thinking she must be an eager-beaver drug company representative who had his clinic in her territory. Most never ventured this far, more the pity. He liked her sleek black hair.
Nate finished stitching Percy Lightfoot's arm and gave him a shot. "Have Winnie change the dressing tomorrow. Any redness or swelling, I want you back here ASAP. I'm surprised you were stringing wire."
"Unstringing." Percy eased into his shirt. "Somebody fenced my herd away from the south fork of the Owyhee. I figure pissed environmentalists or ATVers since Ben negotiated us another year of grazing leases from the Bureau of Land Management."
Nate walked Percy out, past his visitor. He rotated his shoulders as he turned back. His day had been a series of drop-ins, beginning with a hot appendix he sent on to Boise. Grimacing, he stripped off his surgical gloves. "You may as well follow me. I'll clean up while you peddle your wares."
"Pardon?"
Her sharp tone halted him. "Sorry, I saw your briefcase and assumed you're a detail rep for one of the drug companies."
"I'm Dr. Matsui." She popped open the case, extracting a business card that read, Kim Matsui, MD, FAAVR.
Nate pocketed it, wondering what a doctor, a Fellow in the American Academy of…something, wanted with him? She wasn't smiling, so he didn't. "Then may I ask what brings you to my humble clinic?"
"Your failure to send a victim of a brown-recluse-spider bite and the specimen to the laboratory in Boise. Dr. Severson has your initial fax, but the patient was never seen at the hospital, and there was no record of any follow-up. I'm here for—" she checked her notes "—Clover Trueblood's records, and to investigate the case further."
Investigate? Nate stiffened. Ben Trueblood had elected alternative methods to treat his daughter after Nate had told him to take her to the hospital in Boise. Did his supervisory board think otherwise? "Clover Trueblood was bitten during a snowstorm. The first of some bad weather that's kept me very busy. I'm the only medic in this community."
She shut her case. "If you'll direct me to the nearest motel, I'll pick up your report tomorrow. But I'd like to take the specimen now—to corroborate your diagnosis."
Corroborate his diagnosis? What the…? That was twice since she barged into his clinic that Nate felt his competence was in question. "Tell Severson I'll fax a follow-up." He edged Dr. Matsui out onto the front stoop. "Our town has no motel. And I'm afraid I don't have signed authorization from Clover's guardian to release her records or the specimen. Sorry you made the long drive. If you leave now, you should make Boise before dark."
Nate quietly closed his clinic door and turned the lock.
Kim blinked at the white door with the circled red cross on it. Heavens, she hadn't handled that well. She tightened her grip on her briefcase, and considered whether Ramsey would come back if she knocked. Probably not.
Stepping on rocks to avoid the mud left by recent rains, Kim returned to the silver Toyota she'd left in the parking lot. She got in and spent a moment contemplating her choices. It sounded as if the PA still had the specimen; it was rare for anyone to lay hands on a brown recluse. She'd been quite excited when her computer program monitoring hospital records had turned up this case.
She started her car and backed onto the main road. Maybe she should have been up front with Mr. Ramsey and told him she studied venomous insects and snakes all over the world in her quest to develop a universal antidote. But, in research of this type, sharing that information could be risky. Too many people in her field went to great lengths to steal already complied data and claim it as their own work.
Impatient because she was nearing the end of her two-year grant with the World Health Organization, Kim made a snap decision. She went back, parked, got out and pounded on PA Ramsey's clinic door.
He opened the door in a rush of wind and seemed honestly shocked to see her standing on the stoop. "I heard you drive away." He glanced over her head at the compact car she'd left running. "Are you having car trouble?"
"No. I'm having trouble understanding your unwillingness to hand over your slides, any lab tests and your notes on the child who was bitten…in November, I believe."
"You should be familiar with a patient's right to privacy."
"Perhaps we could bypass that if you'd phone Dr. Severson and ask him to vouch for me."
Nate extracted a cell phone from the pocket of his wrinkled lab coat. "I just did try to reach him. He and his family left on vacation yesterday. It's his children's spring break from school."
Kim crossed her arms and stubbornly tapped her toe on the cement stoop. "This is the most ridiculous runaround. Frankly, Mr. Ramsey, I'm beginning to think you must have made a mistake in your initial diagnosis. Was the girl even bitten by a brown recluse or was it a flea or some run-of-the-mill nonpoisonous spider?"
Nate's jaw tightened. He said coolly, "Frankly, Dr. Matsui, I think you should go back where you came from and quit wasting your time and mine. I owe Dr. Severson a follow-up on Clover's condition, which I'll send after I see her at her next appointment."
Kim closed her eyes for a moment. Slowly she descended the steps, and hesitated at the bottom. Glancing up, she said, "Someone in this town knows what you're hiding. And someone must rent rooms to travelers. Like it or not, Mr. Ramsey, I'm not going anywhere right now."
Nate stood in the clinic doorway and watched the doctor get on the highway, then head into town. He should have just given her the damn spider and records. It was her attitude that irked him.
Slamming the door, he went into his office and pulled Clover's file. Who was he kidding? What bothered him was the string of letters after Dr. Matsui's name. Digging out her card, he stared at the MD, FAAVR. What in hell did VR stand for? Vampire Rituals? His laugh sounded more like a snort, sobering him. High time he was honest with himself—he envied those titles, but knew very well that getting them took schooling and dedication. Still, he loved this job. If Kim Matsui had the power to cause him trouble with his superiors in Boise, he wanted her gone.
Where in town might she be? Pulling out his phone he dialed Della Quimby at the post office. "Della, it's Nate Ramsey. Ah, yes, I've met Dr. Matsui. She asked what? Why would she inquire about empty stores on main street? I though she was interested in finding a room for one night. Competition?" Nate's dry laugh sounded rusty. "Wait, Della, did she say something to make you think she intended to open a practice in town?"
"Well, Nate, we've got a full-time teacher now, and Ben was able to resolve the rangeland leases with the Bureau of Land Management. We've all been hoping the town will start to grow again. Besides," she added, a gentle prod in her voice, "I figure a nice-looking, single man like you would be begging everyone to make a good impression on a woman as pretty as Dr. Matsui. She wasn't wearing a wedding ring, or didn't you notice?"
He had noticed. And she was pretty. But what was she really after? The town had trouble paying his salary. "Pretty is as pretty does, Della. I guess I'm not as quick as you to put out the welcome mat."
"She seemed nice and friendly. But I 'spect you're the only one in town who can say if she's a good doctor. When I met her, I said to myself there's been times it would've been nice to have a choice whether to see a male or female doc. Know what I mean?"
Nate did. "Don't get your hopes up, Della. I don't think Dr. Matsui intends to hang a shingle here."
After they signed off, Nate started to worry in earnest about the doctor's real purpose for showing up and for being so quick to stick around. It was plain she'd bear watching.
Kim Matsui had stopped at the post office first. The woman in charge, Mrs. Quimby, had seemed friendly, and had directed Kim to Delgado's Burgers for something to eat and to mingle with locals who may have a room or a store to rent.
Delgado served a great veggie burger, but the patrons who came in stayed in their groups; they didn't exactly mingle. They watched her, and maybe even whispered about her. So far, outside of the woman at the post office, Kim hadn't experienced the kind of cooperation the chief of staff in Boise led her to believe she could expect from Nathan Ramsey and others here. Hunky Nate Ramsey. What was his problem?
Kim didn't discourage easily. She'd researched venoms in some pretty hostile environments all around the world. The secret to currying assistance in tight-knit societies was to build trust. It was a matter of finding one willing person.
For the chance to obtain firsthand information on the brown recluse, Kim could afford to spare a week fostering goodwill. The background information she'd researched indicated Clover wasn't the first person in this area to have been bitten by the most poisonous spider. It would be worth renting a place to set up a portable lab and do a little spider hunting herself. So there, Mr. Yummy Medic!
Cutting short her meal, Kim gathered her purse and briefcase. She recalled passing an empty storefront next to Rosie's Antiques. And she loved antiques.
Ben Trueblood had told Nate over the phone that the scabs on Clover's arm were barely visible now, but he brought her by so Nate could judge for himself and close her case as he said he needed to.
"What's the flap I'm hearing about a new doctor in town?" Ben teased as Nate scribbled in Clover's chart. She'd gone outside with her stepbrother, Danny, so Nate felt free to lay his concerns on the line to Ben.
After listening to Nate's version, Ben stood, thoughtfully dusting a thumb across his lips. "I hope you know we'll stand behind you. But I should tell you that Winnie Lightfoot phoned Kate right after you called. Winnie said the doctor rented office space with a sleeping loft above from Clay Bonner."
"She did?" Startled, Nate glanced up after locking Clover's chart in a desk drawer. "Call me paranoid, Ben, but why would she do that unless she's trying to put this clinic out of business?"
"Don't know. The kids and I are hauling supplies out to Bobbalou and my buckaroos. Why don't you go see what the doctor told Clay?"
"I'll do that. By the way, will you return this notebook on natural Native medicines I borrowed from Bobbalou?" Lou Bobolink, fondly called Bobbalou, had practically raised Ben Trueblood and Percy Lightfoot. Few knew the old man was an herbal healer; Nate did, and he'd begun implementing a mix of treatment methods.
Ben took the dilapidated notebook, Nate locked up and the two men went their separate ways.
Clay Bonner owned the Furniture Barn, and his wife, Rosie, the antique store across the street. Sure enough, Nate noticed blinds on the once empty store next to Rosie's.
The minute Nate entered Clay's store, a guilty flush stained the merchant's face. "Nate, howdy. Hee, listen. Della mentioned you're not real comfortable having a new doc move in, but with business slow as it's been, and with the baby coming, Rosie and I can't turn down that rent money."
"I'm not blaming you, Clay. It's a free country." Not only that, Nate knew Rosie had already miscarried twice and it was possible she may need to close her shop and stay off her feet a while. "Did the doc say she plans to see patients?"
"Nope. I helped her carry in equipment—microscopes and something she called a centrifuge. All the same, and no offense, Nate, but I'm glad to have her next door, what with Rosie's condition."
"Hm. I wonder if Dr. Matsui's delivered preemies before? Think I'll go have a professional chat with the good doctor." Now he really wondered what the woman's motive was for settling here. Was she planning to check on Nate's treatment of patients other than Clover?
Leaving Clay, Nate crossed the street. He opened the door, its paint peeling off, and found Kim Matsui on her knees lifting a big microscope out of a case. "Hey, let me help."
She eyed him speculatively, but didn't object to his muscle. "To what do I owe this unexpected visit?" she asked when the item was securely in place. "Did you bring the report on the Trueblood girl? Rumor has it you called her in for an examination."
"I did. She's my patient." Nate winced, hearing how childish that sounded. But it did dawn on him that if Dr. Matui had ulterior motives, he'd be better off keeping a close eye on her. "Actually I dropped by because I heard you found a place to rent. I have a heavy schedule of school athletic physical exams coming up, plus I'll be dealing with the usual emergencies. It's probably a long shot, but I could use some volunteer professional help for a week or so. Interested?"
That was the last thing Kim expected to hear. It'd be difficult to say which of them was most shocked when she smiled, stuck out a hand and said, "It's a deal, Ramsey. Name the days and times."
Nate didn't linger after stammering out the time of his first appointment the next day. He did notice Dr. Matsui had cases of slides, test tubes, some expensive microscopes and a centrifuge. His clinic had basic equipment for blood and urine tests. He grew simple cultures and studied them via a computer hooked up to Boise's lab, which was how Dr. Severson had diagnosed Clover Trueblood's serum.
Nate knew from looking at the punctures that she'd been bitten by a spider. Schooling didn't teach a person diagnostics the way hands-on fieldwork did. Out here he dealt with all kinds of ailments and accidents. He'd pit his expertise against that of most city emergency-room docs.
Dang, there was that feeling of professional inferiority rearing its ugly head again. He wasn't an MD, and until Kim Matsui rolled into town he'd managed to forget the disparity between MDs and PAs.
Nate slept badly that night, and wished to hell he hadn't opened his big mouth and invited the "real" doctor into his territory.
On the other hand, he thought as he shaved the next morning, over the past year especially he'd been busy enough for two people. Then, too, as Della had pointed out, Kim Matsui was easy on the eyes. Having her around wouldn't be such a hardship. He grimaced at his reaction in the mirror. Don't be getting those kinds of ideas, he warned himself. High-powered doctors wouldn't look twice at a lowly PA.
Kim was punctual. She arrived early even. Nate felt out of sorts from the lack of sleep. Kim, on the other hand, looked chipper in her pristine lab coat. And she smelled good, like some exotic flower.
"I haven't done clinic work in a while. Thanks for asking me, Nate. Uh, may I call you that? I heard the man who just left."
"Some call me Doc. I hope that won't offend you."
"Why would it?" she said. "I've been on sites in Asia and Africa where the title doctor, no matter whom it's applied to, is one notch under God. Patients don't give a darn about titles. They're grateful for any care."
"Any care? Listen, maybe this arrangement won't work. I happen to feel I give the folks here top medical care."
Kim's smile fled. She might've asked about the chip on his shoulder, but the first of his student physicals arrived—Dave Hyder, then Terry Goetz. Kim noticed that Terry's parents had the PA on a pedestal.
Nate saw Kim's curious look and, after the exam, murmured, "Terry's brother, Jeff, had appendicitis, and I caught it the morning you hit town. The surgeon in Boise said if I hadn't, Jeff's appendix might have ruptured. Marge and Ray are appreciative."
Kim snatched one of the brownies Marge had left. "Lord, this is sinful. If all of your patients pay you in rich desserts, why don't you have an ounce of extra fat?"
"I'm called to tramp around the ranches. I'm on call twenty-four-seven."
She polished off the goody, secretly admiring his leanly muscled frame. He had rumpled whiskey-blond hair that suited him, too. "How old are you?" she asked.
"Thirty-six. And you?"
"Thirty-one."
The door opened. Ron Quimby and Mike Delgado came in for their physicals, which put an end to personal exchanges.
The entire week they worked hard. Two girls, Shelly Bent and Meg Wheeler, were glad Dr. Kim handled their physicals. Buckaroos who came in off the range with vague complaints ogled Kim, but they back-slapped and joked with Nate.
By Friday she'd witnessed a more charming side of him. Yes, Nate was competent, but the charming part threw her. It was as if she was falling for him, for the clinic and for the small, friendly town. But that couldn't be happening. She couldn't afford to get butterflies in her stomach over Nate. Her grant was running out, and she'd made a commitment to develop a universal venom antidote.
Kim watched Nate when the phone rang. He leaned forward, all business now. It hurt to look at him and long for things that could never be for her. She'd made her choice for science a long time ago. Scientists couldn't afford fluttering hearts. But hers felt heavy as she gathered her medical bag, sure that she had dallied too long at something far too enjoyable. It was imperative she put Nate Ramsey out of her mind, finish the job she came here to do and then go back to the life that had been mapped out for her.
As the week ended, Nate noticed with increased frequency how Kim's cheerfulness and quiet efficiency affected his daily outlook. Okay, yeah, she was beautiful, too. Only when alone did he admit to erecting a shell, and now he didn't want to see her sojourn end.
All Friday afternoon Nate gathered the courage to broach extending their deal. The bad part—he knew she was disappointed that he hadn't discussed Clover's encounter with the spider. Likewise—although Kim actually hinted this—he hadn't produced the dead spider. Nate figured the minute he handed the specimen and file over, Kim would blow town.
They had a lull around four, and he'd reached the point of clearing his throat and saying, "Kim, I…uh…would you…" when the front door banged open and in sauntered two of Ben Trueblood's buckaroos, Zach Robles and Justin Padilla.
Nate tensed. Justin and Zach were slicked up in Sunday shirts and pressed jeans. Both had been in earlier in the week with trumped-up ailments. Nate knew full well they'd ridden in off the range to check out rumors. Single women were few and far between; it didn't take a Mensa-high IQ to know these two had zeroed in on Kim.
Seriously annoyed by their arrival, Nate insinuated himself between Kim and the men, who were flirting outrageously. "What brings you boys into the clinic again?" he asked.
Justin, the biggest ladies' man, barely glanced at Nate. "By golly it must be those ATVers have polluted the air out by the river. Me 'n Zach have terrible headaches."
Nate rolled his eyes when he saw the concerned way Kim sat them down and opened clean plastic covers for the ear thermometer. "They're faking," Nate declared, lifting the thermometer from Kim's grasp. "Your headaches, if you have them, are probably a result of Joe the barber shearing your winter hair. Or else you're allergic to the half bottle of shaving lotion you each drowned in."
Caught, both men grew as red as radishes.
Feeling sorry for them, Kim elbowed Nate aside. "I think you look very handsome." She sniffed. "Aramis," she guessed and smiled. "Always reminds me of a log cabin tucked deep in the woods, maybe a fire burning low."
Nate stomped off. "Brother! Light a fire around the alcohol used to make that stink and they'll go off like Roman candles."
"Nate…" Kim shot him a dirty look.
So did Zach. And Justin bounded out of his chair. "Whatever caused my problem, it's gone."
"Funny, so's mine." Zach leveled soulful, dark eyes on Kim. "You wouldn't take pity on two lonely buckaroos and join us for a steak over in Jordan Valley? We hear they have live music tonight."
Biting her lip, Kim waited for Nate to object. He had his wire-rimmed glasses on and was busily writing in charts. "I'd be delighted," she said finally. "If you'll give me a minute to put on dancing shoes."
Nate battled a burning in his stomach as the three left. He heard Kim's bell-like laughter mingle with the men's deeper voices. That's when he realized he'd posted twice to the same chart.
Kim had some reservations about leaving town with the brash, rough-hewn men. And yet they seemed nice, in a big, overgrown-kid way.
"We rode our horses in, so we borrowed an SUV," Zach said when he couldn't find the vehicle's light switch.
"Uh, there's no need for us to drive anywhere. I'd be fine with one of Mr. Delgado's veggie burgers."
"Veggie burgers in cow country? You've gotta be kidding." Justin leaned over from the backseat to point to the light switch. "Tonight Lou, Zach's brother, and Enrique are tending the herd and remuda. It's rare we get time off, especially to dance with a pretty lady. Don't deprive us, please."
Kim sat sideways. "Is what you do a hardship? I admit I didn't know men still lived on the range with their cows. That's what Nate said. Was he exaggerating?"
"We live like our grandfathers did," Zach said. "Nothing beats trailing a herd or sleeping under the stars. Our kind are disappearing, though. Ben bought us a couple more years in court. But the life we love will soon be a thing of the past."
"Ben…is that Ben Trueblood? It's his child who was bitten by a brown recluse?"
"Yep." Justin adjusted his seat belt and scooted forward again. "Are you here to close our clinic because Bobbalou, not Nate, cured Clover?"
Kim went poker-stiff. "Where did you get that idea? Who cured the girl's necrosis if not Nate? I wonder…is that the basis for his reticence about letting me have her records?"
"Dang, Kimmie girl, you use big words. Lou Bobbolink—we call him, Bobbalou—is Paiute like Ben. I'll swear Paiute medicine is good stuff. Lou's cured us of snakebite, frostbite, hangnails and toothaches, to name a few." Justin raised a hand, palm out.
"Really? Would Lou would consent to talk to me about his medicine?" Kim inquired, displaying her excitement.
"Hon, he probably will if you ride out to our base camp. I reckon Bill Hyder can rent you a horse. When we get to the steak house, I'll draw you a map."
Kim could hardly contain her high spirits throughout the evening and after the buckaroos dropped her off. Finding anyone who could treat snakebites and spider venom was almost too good to be true.
Nate had left a note on her door asking her to extend her volunteering at the clinic. Maybe she would—after she interviewed Mr. Bobolink.
When she failed to show up at the clinic on Monday morning, Nate went in search of Kim. He couldn't believe she'd rented a horse with the intent to find Bobbalou. Nate had grown to like Kim a lot, but he worried that with her Stanford and Harvard degrees, she'd scoff at Lou's natural methods. The old Paiute was mentoring Nate, who'd swear that a tea Lou taught him to make had kept Rosie Bonner from losing her baby thus far.
Hurriedly canceling his morning appointments, Nate saddled his gelding, Coal Dust, and galloped off after Kim. Hopefully he'd be in time to ward off a clash of ideologies.
Kim started out enjoying the crisp spring morning. A miserly sun painted the canyon walls violet and gold. About the only problem with the day was that she hadn't ridden a horse in a very long time. Nor had she packed the proper clothing for such an outing. Her black rayon slacks kept snagging on prickly bushes that clogged what passed for a trail. And her sneakers lacked a heel to stop her feet from sliding through the stirrups.
Maybe her mind had gotten lost in planning how she'd approach Mr. Bobolink, because all at once Kim realized she'd passed this drooping tree before. She remembered that she'd admired its bright green buds.
The ability to memorize rapidly had always been a source of pride for her, but now she wished she'd stored Justin Padilla's crude map, drawn on a steak-house napkin, in her pocket instead of putting it in the backpack with the research notes she'd collected from several continents.
Tessa, the mare—a buckskin, Bill Hyder had said—was feistier than Kim liked. She'd asked Mr. Hyder about that as the horse seemed skittish in the corral, but the man had assured Kim that the tan animal with the black mane and tail had an easy gait. He said Kim would see as soon as Tessa shook off her winter kinks.
Tessa tossed her head and danced sideways, scraping the bare part of Kim's legs on the underbrush as Kim attempted to rein in so she could dismount and check the map. Kim had it in her head that by now she ought to have reached the river. Justin and Zach had told her to follow it to where she'd see the canvas tepees of their camp. Kim called them on that—she thought they were putting her on—but they insisted their sleeping tents were round, one-man tepees.
Her horse trotted around a bend and Kim's heart lifted; the sparkling river fanned out ahead of her. Just as Kim was feeling more confident about being on the right trail, several things happened simultaneously. Another horse whinnied behind them, out of sight around the bend. Tessa answered back, flattened her ears and reared on her hind legs, catching Kim off guard. And out of a granite-strewn arroyo that dropped off on Kim's right, roared and bounced three men on mud-spattered quads. The black-visored helmets they wore made them look like horribly grotesque bugs.
Suddenly launched through the air, Kim felt the reins slip through her fingers. Her scream joined the mocking laughter of the three men on the ATVs.
Nate saw the whole debacle as his gelding rounded the last set of boulders. The assholes on the quads skidded past him and he was left choking on their dust—through which he witnessed Kim sailing from the mare and tumbling down a rocky slope leading to the river.
His lungs threatened to explode from fright as he dismounted, and with his heart slamming up into his throat, he ran and slid down the incline after Kim.
Kim's mount clattered past Nate's horse, but Nate's sole concern was Kim. Her fall ended when her head struck a slab of granite. Blood dripped down her temple, and reddened her silky black hair. It scared hell out of him when neither his touch nor shouts brought her around as he hastily checked her over for broken bones.
When Nate partially lifted her, he saw an ugly goose egg rising to the right of one delicate eyebrow. She could have a skull fracture. Worried, Nate struggled to carry her up to his horse.
Wanting to rush back to the clinic where he had equipment to better check for a fracture, he boosted Kim aboard his horse and kicked Coal Dust into a gallop.
The uneven bouncing caused Kim to stir. Feeling her head cradled against unfamiliar muscles, she blinked up at Nate Ramsey's clean-shaven chin, and tried to sit up, but the saddle horn dug into her hip.
Her elbow landed in his stomach. Nate slowed his horse and gazed down into Kim's cloudy eyes. "Thank God you're waking up. I worried you had a depressed skull fracture."
Bits and pieces came back to Kim. "Wh-why were you out there?"
"I followed you when I heard you planned to visit Lou Bobolink."
"That was your horse on the trail behind me? You spooked my horse."
"No, it was those idiots on the ATVs. I need to tell Ben. The court confined their riding to certain marked areas."
She frowned and rubbed her head, trying to remember. "I heard a horse whinny, then my mare reared. Wh-what happened to Tessa?" Feebly punching at Nate, she leaned away from him. "You scared my horse on purpose to keep me from talking to Mr. Bobolink about that spider bite."
"Don't be ridiculous. If my horse spooked yours before those guys on the quads burst over the hill, I'm sorry. You can't believe your fall was anything but an accident." The clinic came into sight and since Kim had begun shifting around, making riding double difficult, Nate nudged his horse into a canter. Reaching the path that led to the clinic, he reined the gelding in that direction. "Let's get you inside so I can put ice on that knot on your head and examine you for a concussion."
She grabbed the reins. "I'll take care of my own injuries. Drop me off at my rental."
"That's silly."
Kim tried to wiggle and slide out of his tightening hold. "Silly is the lengths you're willing to go to keep me from seeing Clover Trueblood's chart. I know you weren't the one to heal her, Nate."
"I never said I was." He saw Kim touch her bloody temple, sighed, then trotted his horse on into town. "Let me help you upstairs," he said after dismounting.
"I'll help myself. If you want to help," she said, shrugging out of her backpack, "make sure my horse got back to Mr. Hyder." With that, she unlocked her door and went in, leaving Nate kicking the toe of his boot on the wooden sidewalk.
Nate knew Kim was probably as capable, if not more so, as he was of healing her injuries. But as fine boned as she was, having landed hard on granite, she had to be hurting, he thought later that day.
Not giving a damn about the rumors he'd surely start around town, he bought Kim a soft stuffed cat and a small vase of violets at the general store.
Rosie Bonner grinned wickedly when she let Nate into Kim's lab. Ignoring her, he marched straight up to the loft and pounded on the door.
"If that's you, Nate, go away."
He shifted the violets and turned the knob, not surprised to find the door unlocked. Walking into a sparsely furnished room, he spotted Kim reclining on a sagging overstuffed couch. When she lowered the ice pack she held over the goose egg, Nate saw the injury had almost closed that eye, and a purple bruise stained the chin she stubbornly lifted.
"Did you come to gloat?"
"You look like hell," he said. "Sheriff White caught those ATVers. They admitted making your horse rear. But I'm damn sorry all the same. I dislike that you'd think I'd want to cause you harm." Bending, he tucked the stuffed toy in the crook of her arm. After glancing around and finding no better place to put them, he set the violets on a scarred coffee table. His blue eyes skimmed her features with honest sympathy.
Her fingers stroked the cat's fur.
"I'm guessing you hurt all over."
She nodded.
"Do you have pain pills?"
She shrugged.
"Never mind, I'll bring you some." Backing away, he reached for the door latch.
"You don't need to, Nate," she called, but he was gone and she heard him descending the stairs.
She was dozing when he barged in again two hours later, carrying a bottle of inflammatory tablets and two sacks brimming with groceries.
"I'm making you supper," he said around her sleepy protest.
Kim saw that it rattled him when she sat up and the quilt fell away exposing a row of colorful bruises on her left arm. It crossed her mind to let him stay, because with a whole evening stretching before them, him oozing empathy, what better opportunity to convince him to hand over that blasted spider?
Immediately she felt guilty. Underneath it all, overriding her reasons for coming to this town, she liked the idea of spending a social evening with Nathan Ramsey.
Hearing him thumping around her utilitarian kitchen, Kim hugged the gift cat, and she traced the petal of one violet. She didn't readily identify the warmth stealing over her. From the moment she chose her profession, her life had lacked time for relationships other than those cultivated for furthering her research. Oddly, she didn't want tonight with Nate to be in that category and that shocked her.
When Nate had the time, he enjoyed cooking. Tonight he chose to fix a quick beef stroganoff, a recipe he'd begged from Marge Goetz after she brought it to a town potluck. The beef, poured over white rice, with a salad and hot bread made a fast meal. With Kim being on pain medication, he'd passed on bringing a bottle of Merlot.
Her eyes were closed when he carried two steaming plates to the coffee table. Seeing the way the soft white cat cradled her cheek sent a stab of yearning through Nate. He hadn't realized until now how lonely his evenings had been since he'd taken over the clinic. He swallowed a lump in his throat and set down the plates. Slipping to one knee, he feathered a kiss over her bruise, then brushed his lips across hers.
Kim's eyes flew open and she scrambled to sit up.
Nate soothed her with a stroke of his hand. "I brought a tray from the clinic for you. I'll sit on the floor." He indicated the table he'd pulled close to her sofa.
"Uh, fine." She filtered a hand through her hair. "I must have drifted off. I dreamed you—"
"Sleep's the best healer," he said quickly. "I won't stay long after we eat. I hope water is okay. You probably don't need coffee, cola or wine."
"The water here is sweet. Some places I've been," she said, "I've hated drinking water boiled with Clorox or laced with quinine." She adjusted the tray on her lap.
"You've traveled a lot? Idaho's it for me," he said, sitting cross-legged.
"This is your lifelong home? Is your family here?"
"I grew up in Lewiston. Up north," he said when she stared. "I aspired to be a general practitioner." Her stillness compelled him to add what few knew. "My folks hit a truck in a blizzard my last year of college. My three sisters needed a pro-tempore parent."
"Nate, I'm so sorry. Was there no way for you to go to medical school, too?"
"The only way the state would let me have the kids was if I worked part-time jobs around their school schedules. I managed to get my degree gratis taking online classes."
"So your sisters were a lot younger?"
"The youngest was twelve at the time. It was seven years before I had them settled. At twenty-eight I still might've given med school a shot, but scholarships eluded me. It's not surprising," he said, digging a crater into the rice under his stroganoff. "Admissions didn't take online degrees seriously. After all, they can pick from the cream of universities. It's their loss. Anyway, I found a school that offered a good physician assistant program."
Her eyes were big on him and shimmering with tears.
"Hey, eat up while the food's still warm. I didn't mean to throw a wet blanket over our meal." Nate tucked into his food and finally induced her to eat.
They'd finished, and he was stacking the plates when it dawned that he'd monopolized the conversation. As a result he knew nothing of her history.
"No fair making me unload my baggage. Tell me how Kim Matsui came to be an MD and a fellow. In the American Academy of what, by the way? What does the VRstand for?" he asked around a teasing grin.
"I assumed you knew VR is venom research." Kim
interrupted any comment Nate might make. "I know, it's an unusual field for
women. Everyone in my family is an overachiever, Nate. Mom and Dad are renowned
geneticists. My older brother is a Nobel physicist and my sister, a brilliant
neurologist on staff at Bethesda."
He whistled. "That's impressive."
Kim gave a twisted smile as he removed her tray. "Heaven forbid anyone in my family be ordinary."
"Are you saying you don't like what you do?"
She studied the ceiling. "I showed early aptitude for microscope work. I recall going home after high school career day, excited, armed with dozens of brochures on lab tech courses." Kim grimaced. "You can't imagine the shock waves that created. Dad decided I'd be a doctor and then go into some kind of research career. Venom studies came about after my uncle, a World Health Organization doctor, was bitten in Guyana by a Crotalus durissus."
"Sounds awful. What is that exactly?"
"A rattlesnake. Its venom contains toxins that act on both the tissue and nervous system. He died for lack of an effective antidote."
"I'm sorry. Is that venom similar to the brown recluse's?"
"All venom has some common characteristics. I developed an antidote for the Crotalus. Then I wondered about a more universal antidote. Doctors and missionaries could carry one kit instead of guessing which to take."
"I probably can't help. I would've sent Clover to Boise for treatment."
"Which may not have worked. Europe has an antivenin for the recluse toxin, but the U.S. doesn't. I'm close, I believe, to a multivenom serum. But there's only a few months left on my grant—I doubt it'll be extended. Research grants are competitive. Every field has vocal opponents."
"And…this fall today set you back. I shouldn't have let you go off alone." Nate's conscience stabbed him uncomfortably. He hadn't helped her, and now it looked as though he'd jumped to the wrong conclusion when it came to Kim's purpose for being in town.
She hiked a shoulder. "I've ridden donkeys, camels and even an elephant to gather insect and snake poisons worldwide. I can't let a willful horse stop me."
"Next time, ride one of mine." Rising, Nate circled the coffee table and sat beside her. Tenderly he pushed aside a lock of hair that hid her worst injury. His nearness, combined with his soft touch, halted talk but sparked instant awareness. Kim breathed out, drawn toward his lips. Nate hesitated a fraction before sliding a hand around her neck and settling his lips over hers. They both shifted for better access only to jerk apart when someone pounded on Kim's door.
Nate opened the door to the third of Ben's buckaroos. Enrique Quijada carried a box of candy and a bouquet of wildflowers.
"Della Quimby said you fell. The guys worried when you didn't show up to meet Lou today." Enrique passed Kim the gifts, and she thanked him sweetly.
Nate took their dirty dishes to the sink and ran water over them. Dressed in his buckaroo garb, Quijada cut a dashing figure. All the women in town claimed he had a ready wit Nate knew he didn't possess. He shrugged into his jacket. "I've been here longer than planned. Bye, Kim."
Confined to the sofa, Kim felt helpless. She would much rather have Nate stay than Enrique, but she didn't know how to ask him.
A few days later Kim was out and about, her bruises fading. She stopped in at the clinic, but it was as if her brief romantic interlude with Nate had never happened. He was his old, controlled self, and that left Kim feeling awkward.
Immersing herself in work to take her mind off Nate, she decided to pay a visit to Ben Trueblood's ranch.
"Ben's out on the range," his housekeeper told Kim. "He probably wouldn't mind if you talked to Clover. She's at school. Kate's the teacher. That spider was in her woodshed. She and her boy, Danny, were here when that old coot Bobbalou conjured up his black magic." The older woman sniffed derisively.
Kim thanked her and headed for the country school, unsure if she should continue on or call it quits and write this venture off. But she'd met some effective witch doctors and curanderos in her travels.
School was on lunch break when she arrived. Kate greeted Kim warmly. "That's Clover and my son, Danny, hanging from the monkey bars." She summoned a pretty girl with silky black hair and gorgeous eyes. Kim was delighted to see they looked normal.
"Bobbalou put stinky black goo on my arm," Clover told her. "Where that old spider made holes in my arm is all better."
Kim examined the healed lesions.
"That's astounding for…five months ago, you said?"
"Approximately, yes," Kate said. "I'll vouch that Lou used all natural ingredients. You really should see him. Wait, here's Ben. I think they moved the herd off the high plateau today. He can direct you to Bobbalou."
Kim felt dwarfed by the tall rancher, but she liked that he didn't hide his love for Kate, and kissed her openly and unabashedly.
"I heard you took a header off Bill Hyder's horse," Ben said, his black eyes narrowed on Kim. "Horseback's the only way to reach our grazing camp."
"If you'll provide directions, Nate offered the use of his horse this time." Even as she spoke Kim was assailed by doubt. Her memories of the rearing mare remained vivid.
"Better yet," Ben said gruffly as he sketched a rough map on paper Kate handed him, "talk Doc Ramsey into riding out there with you."
Kate's son, Danny, who'd bounded up, said, "When I moved here, Ben told me a person shouldn't go riding around alone 'cause it's dangerous."
Kim smiled at the boy. "I have the bruises attesting to that. I was lucky Nate followed me."
"He told me how ATVers scared the crap out of your horse," Ben said, handing Kim the map. "I reckon you couldn't have had a better man than Doc around when you fell."
Kim nodded, but as she left the school she weighed whether or not to ask Nate to escort her into the wilds. She wished she hadn't told him about her highly educated family. Ben had just called Nate Doc, but Kim thought it bothered Nate a lot that she had that sheepskin and he didn't.
Kim made up her mind that it was foolish not to ask Nate to accompany her. But she was surprised to find he had a full waiting room of kids who must have come in on the school bus in the parking lot.
"Hey," she greeted Nate, poking her head in an examining room. "I came to see if I could borrow a horse to visit Mr. Bobolink. Ben drew a map." She produced it and waved it so he could see. "I was hoping you might ride along. It's a glorious day, the warmest since our shower a few nights ago."
Glancing over his glasses, Nate gestured with his otoscope. "I'm a little busy."
"I see that." Kate partially withdrew.
"I got a frantic call from the Silver City school nurse," he said, referring to a town up the road. "A retired doctor there generally does physicals so these kids can go to baseball camp, but he has pneumonia. Camp starts tomorrow. I agreed to do the physicals."
"I could pitch in," she offered. "Maybe we'd still have time to go see Mr. Bobolink. Or postpone going until tomorrow."
Nate frowned. "The other night you said time's running out on your grant. Last thing I want to do is hold you up. You go on and interview Lou. Later, when you return my horse, stop in. I'll give you the jar with the spider."
Kim shifted, tempted to ask for the spider now. She could examine it in her lab and extract any venom that may remain on its fangs. But results could take days. It'd be smarter to debrief the man who had neutralized the toxins. The ingredient or ingredients native to this area could provide the last link to a broad-based antivenin.
Nate noticed she still hovered at his door. He'd been listening to his patient's heart, and now lifted one earpiece of his stethoscope. "Do you need help saddling up? Ask the kids. Oh, and take the chestnut mare. She's ten and has a mild disposition."
"Thanks. Well, I'll get out of your hair." Retreating, she hoped he'd change his mind. Dumb. He was busy and this was her project.
A gangling red-haired boy volunteered to saddle and bridle the mare. They made small talk. Finally, because she wanted to make the round-trip in daylight, Kim rode off. Reaching a rise overlooking the town, it struck her she'd lost some of the enthusiasm she'd had at the start. And, she mused, she could be happy living here.
Nate finished his last physical close to three. He was restocking examining rooms when Joe Delgado, owner of Delgado's Burgers, rushed in with a burn sustained from his deep fryer. "Glad I caught you before you went riding," Joe exclaimed.
"I'm not going riding."
"Oh, isn't that your saddled horse at the gate?"
Nate ran to the door. His mare, Belle—the horse he told Kim to take—whinnied. What was the horse doing back alone—where was Kim? A hole opened in his stomach. He owed first allegiance to patients, but Nate was guilty of rushing and fumbling through Joe's treatment.
Nate had heard in town the previous day that Ben Trueblood and Percy Lightfoot were both moving their herds after signing new lease agreements with the BLM. He didn't have the foggiest idea where those pastures were. He tried Ben's home phone and got no answer. But thinking about phones, he recalled Kim having a cell. Hoping if anyone had her number it would be Clay Bonner or Rosie, Nate hurriedly phoned Clay. His relief at getting the number was colossal.
Grabbing a medical bag he got ready to travel, ran outside and clambered up on the waiting mare's saddle. Urging her to trot, Nate's hand shook as he tapped in the final digit on his cell phone. "Hello, Kim? Thank God. Where are you?"
There was a sob at the end of her almost incoherent statement. "Nate, oh, Nate, I phoned the clinic. I did something stupid, stupid, stupid."
"I don't pick up the regular line when I'm with patients. You should have called my emergency number—it rings my cell. Calm down, Kim. Tell me where you're stranded. I can't believe you fell off my horse, she's so gentle."
"I didn't…fall. I didn't know you had an emergency number," she panted. "I'm near water. Not the big river like before. More like a…stream."
Nate urged Belle at a gallop up into the foothills. Between her hooves striking gravel and his pounding heart, he had to strain to hear Kim's faint voice.
"I got hot. There's no shade on this trail. We reached the stream and the mare plainly wanted a drink. I got off to drink, too, and check the map. I should've noticed she acted odd, pulling away, baring her teeth and making panicky noises. I moved closer to grab tighter hold of her so I could remount. My right foot landed on a nest of rattlesnakes."
"Rattlers? A nest? One bit you?"
"Two, maybe more. I let the horse go and crawled upstream. I'm cold-packing my ankle. But I'm really hot all over and, Nate, I feel dizzy."
Pain stabbed between his eyes. Kim had said a nest of snakes. That could mean young ones. And young snakes had more potent venom than older ones. "Kim, elevate your leg. Get it higher than your heart. Hang on, I'm coming as quickly as possible."
"Nate…Nate," she called, and tried to wrap her fuzzy-feeling tongue around the right words. "Go by my lab. In the portable fridge, are…four…vials of my antivenin. They're the only red-topped tubes."
"Sweetheart, I'm already out of town. I have my bag, including a snakebite kit."
She wanted to tell him her serum was better, stronger than the usual snake combatant, but the phone slipped out of her sweat-slick hand, and by the time she hauled it out of the gurgling stream, it was dead. Feeling herself growing woozier, she endeavored to do as Nate said and prop her leg on a rotting log. Kim imagined it housed spiders and other poisonous insects. Hysteria took hold, then she blacked out.
Nate pressed Belle to go faster through land devoid of all but sagebrush, natural grasses and God's tougher creatures. Nate prayed Kim Matsui was one.
There. He spotted her red windbreaker down a steep slope at the edge of Jacks Creek. He might've ridden past her had Belle not shown the nervous behaviors Kim relayed earlier. Pulling up, Nate tied Belle, grabbed his medical bag and plunged down the incline.
"Kim, I'm here. Strip out of a sleeve." Nate didn't like how her eyes had a glassy look and the way the hair framing her face dripped with sweat.
She stretched her arms aloft, not complying with his request, but slurring something that sounded like, "It's close, so close, but I can't reach the sun."
Nate's fingers shook as he broke open a snakebite kit and popped the top off a syringe. He ripped a sterile swab open with his teeth and tore the sleeve of Kim's windbreaker. He administered the antivenin quickly, and was gratified when she swatted at his hand, saying, "Ouch…"
A cursory exam of her ankle revealed it was hot and swollen. There were two punctures above her low sock and marks that could be from a third bite in the flesh above the back edge of her sneaker. He removed the shoe pinching her swollen foot and dipped her sock in the icy stream, securing the cold compress over her wounds. All the while she flopped around like a rag doll. Nate spared a precious moment to trace a gentle hand over the face he'd tried not to let haunt his dreams. "Upsy-daisy," he murmured in an unguarded display of emotion. "Hauling you uphill is getting to be a habit," he teased, scooping her up.
She flung her arms around his neck and kissed the underside of his jaw. Nate considered that a good sign. At least she was a bit more coherent.
Again, getting the two of them onto the saddle was the hard part. But it was just as well she went limp for the ride home.
His clinic wasn't set up for overnight stays, so he carried her straight into his apartment at the rear. "Kim, I'm elevating your leg and then leaving you for a minute to contact Boise hospital's snakebite unit. Do you understand?"
She acted as if she wanted to speak, but spewed garbled nonsense.
Afraid her fever had risen, Nate ran to contact a toxin specialist via satellite.
"Nate, I hate to say you've used the best antivenin available." Following that depressing news, the doctor voiced Nate's first fear that deaths from rattlers in Idaho were all a result of bites from young snakes.
Nate signed off, closing his eyes. This was Kim's field of expertise. Assuming she knew her stuff, Nate phoned Clay Bonner. "Clay, I have Kim at my place—snakebite. There are red-topped vials in a portable fridge in her lab. Will you bring them to me on the double?"
After they said goodbye, Nate crossed his fingers that there were directions on the vials, and that he wouldn't kill Kim administering her antivenin on top of his.
The vials were unlabeled; Kim's leg had turned purple. Nate debated administering her experimental serum against taking her to Boise. She could die on the drive. Decision made, he gave her the same dose as he'd used at the creek.
Then he sat and held her hand. When chills racked her body, he covered her with quilts he'd bought at the local fair. He removed them each time her fever climbed.
Della Quimby and Marge Goetz brought homemade soup. The minister stopped to offer a prayer. Throughout the evening others slipped in offering moral support. Winnie Lightfoot came about eight.
"Winnie, I had Rosie Bonner bring one of Kim's nightgowns, but with Rosie's delicate pregnancy I didn't want her lifting Kim. I'll change her sweat-soaked sheets if you get Kim into the gown."
"A doctor who cares about patient modesty?" Winnie clucked but she pitched in and made Kim more comfortable.
Nate busied himself with the sheets. "Kim's the doctor, not me."
"Humpf. What you are is a man in love."
Nate straightened slowly. He didn't say anything as Winnie eased Kim down on the fresh linens. "She's really sick, Winnie. I've run out of things to do for her. I went online even, but didn't turn up any cure newer than Kim's own serum. She rallied once but it didn't last. And she's afraid to try a second dose of her antivenin. There's so much poison in her leg her skin's splitting."
"Bobbalou made medicine that took the fire out of Clover's arm. Percy's been bit by rattlers on the range a couple of times. Lou cooked up a cure."
"Was Percy bit by baby snakes? That's what got Kim. Powerful venom."
Winnie went to the door. "Ben and Percy are in Boise at a horse auction, but call Ben on his cell if you don't have the radio phone number for the cook wagon."
Technically he needed Kim's authorization to try alternative treatments, but she was picking nonexistent flowers out of thin air after Winnie left.
Nate wasn't using the L-word, but he really cared for Kim. And he had Bobbalou's number. So he went into his office and called his friend.
"A nest of rattlers? Shave the core from a new branch of ponderosa pine. Cook it with the dried white mushrooms I gave you. Use gloves and pick a batch of nettles, oh, and five or so dandelion leaves with the bud from the flower head." He named several other ingredients, including pitch. "Mix a thick paste, slather it warm on her skin. Make sure you cover the fang marks with each application."
Nate cleared his throat but stammered out his skepticism.
"Time's wasting, son. Alternate the salve with a poultice of hot green tea between now and when the sun rises."
"What's your percent of guarantee?" A tone in Nate's ear signaled that the old fellow had already hung up.
Rejoining Kim, Nate again watched her raving. A catch in his throat, he brushed a kiss on her lips. "Sweetheart, I'll do anything to save you."
It was after dark when Nate dashed into the woods behind his apartment to gather the last few ingredients by aid of flashlight. Simmering the concoction in vinegar made his eyes water and it smelled ghastly.
He explained what he was doing to Kim, but she'd slipped into a deep sleep Nate refused to call a coma. It was the poison creeping through her system. With hands far from steady, he rolled a portable oxygen tank into the apartment from the clinic and drew up medication to counter her convulsions.
He'd been right in his initial evaluation. She had three sets of puncture wounds. Last spring, in a nearby county, a rancher had died after he'd pulled a stump and had been bitten by two rattlers nesting at its roots. Nate had treated two snakebite victims in the time he'd been running the clinic—both men lived to work another day. "Lord, if you hear me, let my record go unblemished."
Sickbed vigils in what Nate termed the witching hours were always the most difficult. But he could no more sleep than he could let go of the notion that he could will Kim to live.
At approximately 2:00 a.m. she woke up, squeezed Nate's hand, smiled and said weakly, "Are we winning this game?"
"I sure hope so." His heart cracking, he lifted her knuckles to his lips. Not five minutes later her fever spiked again. She thrashed about so violently the next time her body gave way to chills, Nate feared she was at the brink of death.
He removed the cool tea bags that he'd wrapped in a pillowcase around her ankle. As he applied the horrid-smelling salve, judgmental thoughts pricked his conscience.
"What are you doing?" he muttered. "A real doctor wouldn't resort to this." There it was, plain as could be. "If I'd found some way, any way, to attend medical school, then I'd be better equipped to save the life of the woman I love." Nate jerked upright, blinking at his greasy hand.
Whoa! That had been plain, too, he thought as he set the pot of salve back in the warming oven.
After washing and drying his hands, he pulled his chair nearer Kim's bedside. "I'm sorry as hell that I stonewalled your efforts to see Clover Trueblood's record and hindered your testing the brown recluse that bit her. After you took that first spill off Bill Hyder's horse, I knew I should take you to see Bobbalou. But, dammit, I was afraid if you got the information you needed that you'd leave town." Nate picked up Kim's hand and kissed her knuckles. "It was selfishness on my part. I discovered I like having you around. I liked us working together at the clinic. Not just as medical partner, but…well, personally."
Clinging to her hand, which alternated between feeling sweaty and feeling icy, Nate stroked her forehead and brushed hair off her cheek. "If you live, Kim, I swear I'll help you get whatever you need. If you live…I'll explain to Severson or anyone on my supervisory board that I used unapproved treatments on you. Please, God…if you let her live," he said huskily, bending his head and curling Kim's limp hand against his forehead, "I'll do…anything. I'll give up everything I have."
Sunlight crept in thought half-open miniblinds, rousing Nate from his all-night vigil. His eyes felt gritty and he must look like hell. But his personal grooming took a backseat to Kim's needs. It was time to remove the tea compress and redo the salve. Was she improving since the last switch? Hoping it was a sign that all treatments he'd used were working, Nate went to inspect Kim's wounds. To his trained eye the area looked less red and swollen. He was bent over applying the warm salve when Kim stirred.
He looked up and met her eyes watching him. "How l-long have I been like this?" she asked, her voice dry and scratchy.
"Near as I can tell, you startled those snakes between three and four yesterday. Do you know how happy I am to hear you making sense, Kim?"
She leaned up on an elbow and the quilt fell away. "I'm not in my bed. But this is my nightgown." She plucked at dainty front tucks.
"You missed a few worried folks paying respects. Rosie Bonner raided your closet, and Winnie Lightfoot made you comfortable. Your slacks were filthy and your blouse wet with sweat. I tore your jacket getting the first antivenin in you. I'll gladly replace it. I won't lie, Kim—you're lucky to be alive. I don't know if your serum or Bobbalou's remedy turned the tide. What I used didn't do squat."
She digested his admission. "I…remember the rocky slope, the stream, and…not heeding the mare's warning. I phoned you but got no answer…or did we talk? How else did you find me?"
"Not easily. My fault. I try to give patients my emergency number. But I never expected to treat you professionally."
"Nate, stop right there. It's fuzzy—maybe I dreamed it—but I remember hearing you bargain for my life. And…" Her forehead pleated. "It wasn't a dream, was it? You think your supervisory board will fault you for using herbal treatments. That's so not true. I came to further my research, and a big part of it has been tribal healing arts. I should have admitted it when we met, but I've learned to be careful about who I tell. To protect my sources from other researchers. Nate, you're as skilled as any doctor I've met. Heavens, where would I be if you hadn't taken the initiative?" She sat up straighter. "Is that axle grease?"
"It's Lou Bobolink's secret potion."
"As soon as I can walk again I want to meet that man and pick his brain. Will it bother you, Nate, if I extend my stay in town yet again?" she asked carefully.
"Uh, why would it?" He backed away to set the pot of salve on the stove. If, in some twilight phase of toxin coma, Kim had heard all she relayed…what else had she heard? His lovesick ramblings?
"I like your bed," she said, dropping back on the pillow. "Um, nervous as you are all of a sudden, I suspect I also didn't dream those mutters about you not being equipped to save me." Kim heard his breath huff out, and she smiled.
"A man's liable to say just about anything during a deathwatch."
Weak but wanting to pin him down so she could be sure they were on the same page, Kim levered herself up on one arm, capturing his full attention. "Even make bargains with God."
He fidgeted and stroked his jaw. "I liked us working together. Liked having you around. The thought of maybe losing you made me realize some things."
"Such as?"
"Well, that it's dangerous for a community to have just one medic. And, on a more personal level, my life's too solitary and lonely."
"Would it be too forward of me to point out I could correct both of those deficiencies?"
Rounding the bed in a flash, Nate scooted her over and gathered her close. "You can't know how much that appeals to me," he said, nibbling her lips. "But I don't want you making promises out of gratitude because right now you think I saved your life."
She wedged a space between them, and smiling through tears, outlined the features she loved about his face. The laugh lines fanning out from his clear blue eyes. The more serious lines that appeared when he listened to his patients' heart and lungs. "I was thinking in terms of sticking around town before you saved me, Nate. I must confess, that day I fell off Bill Hyder's horse, my mind wasn't on what I was doing, but instead on how much I enjoyed helping you at the clinic."
"You'd give up finding a universal antivenin?"
"It's very likely your friend Bobbalou can provide the final piece to that puzzle."
Nate shifted his hold on her, but a light entered his eyes. "What will your overachieving family think of you staying in rural Idaho?"
"I think my mother especially will be relieved to hear I've found someone I love enough to give up my globe-trotting ways."
"Really? You can love a simple country medic?"
"Can and do love a brilliant, compassionate man named Nathan Ramsey, who happens to be a dedicated, hard-working PA."
Before it was time to switch to the green-tea poultice, Dr. Matsui added "tender and creative lover" to the list of attributes describing Nate.
Several weeks later, after her recovery seemed complete except for tiny scars left by the rattlesnakes' fangs, Nate agreed to accompany Kim to Ben Trueblood's summer range so that she could sit and talk with Lou Bobolink.
Kim fell in love again. This time with a dear leathery-skinned man who wore his hair plaited in a single white braid. "If I take your ingredients, Lou, add them to mine, and turn out a serum to counter even eighty percent of the world's venoms, it'll be a big accomplishment. Together we can save a lot of lives."
"Will it make us rich?" the old man asked, breaking into a wrinkled grin.
"No. I signed away private rights to personal gain to the World Health Organization, which sponsored my grant. But I don't regret that," she murmured, her eyes straying to where Nate stood laughing with the buckaroos who weren't really sad over giving up courting her. "Because I've found riches here that money can't buy."
The End