Claimed By The Cowboy

He notched an eyebrow at her and something in his eyes changed, and she knew—knew—that he remembered exactly how things had gone down between them. Or not gone down, as the case may be. But, thankfully, all he said was “Yup.”

“I’m very happy for the high school reunion, but none of this brings us any closer to getting my father out of the hospital,” Eve Winchester snapped.

Josh—without looking away from her—asked, “Is that a possibility?”

Right. Lucinda had a purpose here that had nothing to do with Josh Calhoun or Lucy Wilde. She had ventured out to this dusty, half-finished work site to try to talk some sense into Carson and Eve because they were the most invested players in this family drama.

Not that that was saying a lot.

“It would be best for the patient if he remained in the oncology ward at Midwest,” Lucinda said as all three looked at her. “I want to keep him under my direct supervision, and there are several experimental treatments I would like to try—with his consent—that have the potential to increase his life expectancy. There are promising developments with low-dose naltrexone...”

“I don’t understand why these experimental treatments have to be done in the hospital,” Eve snapped, cutting Lucinda off. “Every day that he’s in a public space—and no, you can’t promise me that his privacy will be respected in that hospital—it becomes that much more likely that someone will access his records, take pictures of him while he’s incapacitated or bribe a nurse for information they can use against him in the court of public opinion.” She paused and shot daggers at Carson. “I want him home where I know that he’ll be protected and safe.”

Ah, so they were back on the script again. Josh looked to Lucinda for a reply, but she was unable to provide any other details of her patient’s medical condition to him. She was not about to break her Hippocratic oath for him.

Instead, it was Carson who answered. “We’ve been over this, Eve. He’s sick. He belongs in a hospital.” He turned to Josh. “He’s got inoperable lung cancer—years of smoking and hard living, I guess. It’s spread to his lymph nodes. Stage three.”

Josh had the decency to wince.

“But,” Eve said as she jumped back in, “he’s not going to die tomorrow.”

“You can’t just cut the cancer out?” Josh asked Lucinda.

She glared at him even harder. “I cannot share anything about my patient’s condition with a nonfamily member.”

Carson rolled his eyes at her. “As Dr. Wilde has explained to us, due to the original tumor’s location, she can’t perform surgery and traditional chemo, and radiation won’t be powerful enough to eradicate the malignant cells that have spread to the lymph system.”

Josh turned to Eve. “I’m so sorry to hear this,” he said in a gentle voice. “This must be hard for you and your sisters.”

Eve appeared stunned by this olive branch—and Lucinda appreciated someone short-circuiting the bickering.

Josh Calhoun was the same as he’d always been, that much was clear. This was what he did. She’d seen him talk down two guys in the middle of a fight so that, within minutes, they were all sharing a soda and laughing about good times or whatever it was men laughed about while one was wiping the other’s blood off his knuckles.

Once, she’d admired him for that. Okay, honestly—she’d more than admired him. She’d been fascinated by him. She’d never been much to look at, but Josh had never treated her like the know-it-all nerd everyone else did.

Well, almost everyone else. Josh’s best friend in high school, Gary, had asked her out after she’d verbally smacked down some bullies who were mocking Gary for being unable to lift his own backpack after a chemo treatment. And since no one else had ever even remotely looked at Lucy Wilde as someone they might like to go see a movie with—much less kiss—she’d said yes.

Lucinda shook her head out of the past. How long had it been since she’d allowed herself to think of Gary—or Josh? Years. It hadn’t been that hard. She’d been busy with her medical career and dealing with the likes of the Winchesters and Newports. And the Winchesters and Newports took all of her attention.

She had, of course, expressed her concerns to Sutton’s family—that was part and parcel of her job. She cared not only for her patients but their loved ones, as well. She’d had decades of helping people live and die—long before she’d become a doctor.

Long before she’d humiliated herself in front of Josh Calhoun.

But now that she thought of it, she couldn’t remember witnessing anyone else expressing their sympathies to any of the Winchester daughters. Certainly not Brooks Newport or his brothers. Carson’s grim acceptance of the situation had, until this moment, been as good as it got.

“Thank you,” Eve replied quietly. Then she turned her attention to Carson. “I’m not giving up on him. I just want what’s best for him and I don’t think being in the hospital is it.”

“What are the options?” Josh asked.

Why did he have to be here? Why did he have to be forging a peace between Eve and Carson?

Why did he have to be reminding her of things she’d tried so desperately to forget?

It was Carson who answered for her. “Eve and her sisters—our sisters—think it would be best to take him home. I’m not comfortable pulling him out of the hospital.” He stared at Eve. “We have questions and I want him to live long enough to get some answers out of him.”

It was blisteringly clear who the “we” was—Carson and his brothers.

Lucinda wanted to massage her throbbing temples.

Eve glared at him. “What you think doesn’t matter. He’s not really your father. You don’t know him and you don’t love him like I do—like my sisters do.” Her gaze swung back to Lucinda and she looked more determined than ever, which was saying something. “Money is no object. I can have a private medical facility that meets your specifications set up at his estate in a matter of days. I want him out of the hospital and safely at home. And if you won’t help move him,” she threatened, “I will find a doctor who can.”

“Beg your pardon,” Josh interrupted in that gentle tone that Lucinda didn’t really appreciate. “Does he want to stay in the hospital?”

It was a deceptively simple question and Lucinda knew it. What Sutton Winchester wanted was to go home and pretend he was not on death’s door. He never wanted to see her face or the inside of a hospital ever again. But that was not what was best for him.

“Of course, he doesn’t,” Eve stated flatly.

“Because if he’s got the means to be treated at home, maybe that would be best for everyone,” Josh said as if this were the obvious conclusion instead of a solution that entailed an unnecessary health risk.

Well, that went sideways on her. Lucinda gave him a dull look and Carson was none too pleased at this announcement.

Undaunted by their open hostility, Josh went on, “Carson, you’ve got to realize that if he’s more comfortable, he’ll likely be willing to answer some of those questions, don’t you think?”

She wanted to strangle him. It was bad enough that he was here and worse that she was having to talk to him. But for him to come down on the wrong side?

That, however, wasn’t the worst of it. No, what was the worst was that she could see Carson start to waver. Damn it. She knew there were many unanswered questions and she also knew that, currently, Sutton was in no mood to unburden his soul.

Carson Newport had been her ally in keeping Sutton Winchester in the hospital. But, before her eyes, she could see him switch sides. “Well...”

Josh didn’t wait for Carson to talk himself out of it. “If it won’t compromise his care, that is.” He turned his attention to Lucinda and turned on his all-American charm. “If Eve can get the room set up to your specifications, would you be willing to release Mr. Winchester? I know that no one wants to risk his health. That has to come first. I think we can all agree that your word is final, can’t we?” He glanced around their small circle, gathering approval to him like a cloak.

Lucinda blinked at him. Was that the bone he was going to throw her—that she had the final word? Very neatly, Josh Calhoun had sidestepped, diffused or completely undercut weeks of bitter arguments—and boxed her into a corner.

What she wanted to say was that he was out of his ever-loving mind and he could go crawl back into whatever hole he’d crawled out of.

But she didn’t. She had a professional reputation to maintain, and she would be damned if she let Josh Calhoun take that away from her, too. “In no way would moving him at this stage of his treatment be a good idea,” she said firmly.

This fell on deaf ears. “Okay,” Carson announced. “If we can get a room set up in his home, we can move him. But our brothers aren’t going to like this.”

“Graham and Brooks are absolutely not my brothers,” Eve said just as her phone buzzed. She glanced at it and Lucinda saw a small smile break through her icy demeanor. “Dr. Wilde, if you could get a list of equipment we’ll need, I’ll have everything else taken care of.”

“You do understand that this will be very expensive, don’t you?” Lucinda tried a last-ditch attempt. “You’ll need twenty-four-hour care to monitor him, as well—and not some random home-health nurse. He needs oncology specialists around him at all time.”

Eve and Carson shared a look. “That’s fine,” Eve said with a smile that made Lucinda’s blood run cold. “There’s plenty of room at the house. I’ll have the guest quarters prepared for your stay. Hire whomever you need.”

“Ms. Winchester!” Lucinda gaped at her in shock. When had she lost complete and total control?

Josh cleared his throat. Oh, yeah. The moment he’d walked back into her life.

But she didn’t get any further than that. Carson stepped forward and said, “That sounds like a good idea to me. Would you be able to do that, Dr. Wilde?”

This simply could not get worse. She had already been dragged into more than enough Winchester/Newport drama. Personally supervising Sutton Winchester’s care at home would only double and then triple that.

She had opened her mouth to find the words to politely yet firmly refuse when Josh spoke up. “At the very least,” he said, shooting her one of his big smiles that did absolutely nothing to her, “would you be able to see him settled?”

“I’m the head of the oncology department at Midwest,” she told him with an edge to her voice. “I cannot simply disappear to a private home for days or what could even turn out to be weeks at a time.”

Carson gave her a smile that bordered on predatory. “I’m sure, for an appropriate donation to that new cancer pavilion expansion they’ve been planning, they’ll be more than happy to help you find a way to make this work into your schedule.”

In other words, her medical services were going to the highest bidder—and there were no bidders higher in the greater Chicago region than the Winchesters and the Newports. The Newports were already funding this new children’s hospital. In the grand scheme of things, the cost of an expanded cancer pavilion meant nothing to them or the Winchesters.

Lucinda absolutely did not want to be a pawn in this tug-of-war between the two families, but that pavilion would do a lot of good for a lot of people. Damn it all to hell. “I suppose I could move a few appointments around and take a couple of days. But I won’t compromise anyone else’s care. And if I don’t believe your father will receive excellent care at home, I won’t allow him to be discharged.”

Eve sniffed, and there was determination in her voice as she said, “Fine. Do whatever you have to do. I’ll have the guest quarters set up.” Abruptly, she turned away and began texting rapidly.

Lucinda sighed. She turned to Carson—and Josh. “I just want what’s best for my patient,” she reminded the men.

“It sounds like you’re what’s best for the patient,” Josh said as if he were seriously complimenting her.

Lucinda had never physically assaulted anyone in her entire life, but she was damned close to taking a swing at Josh. That did it. He needed to get his nose out of this medical situation—and her business—before she lost what was left of her temper. “Can I talk to you for a second?” she demanded, not bothering to smooth her tone over with a smile.

Carson’s eyebrows jumped up, but Josh showed no sign that he understood the danger. “Sure.”

Good. Great. She was going to tell Josh Calhoun off the way she should have done seventeen years ago, and then she was going to get on with her life.

Without him.

Two

Josh stood there for a moment in a state of total shock. His mind had to be playing tricks on him. Chicago had to be playing tricks on him. Because there was just no reasonable explanation for why he was here with Lucy Wilde. He stared after her as she stalked away.

“I take it you two aren’t the best of friends,” Carson commented drily as he watched Josh watch Lucy.

“Probably safe to say that,” Josh admitted. But once, they had been. Lucy and Gary and Josh. Three peas in a pod, his grandpa had always said. Until it’d just been the two of them. And then Josh had done what had been the hardest thing he’d done in his life—say no to Lucy Wilde.

Carson pondered Josh’s statement. “Old girlfriend?”

“No, nothing like that.” Which was not entirely the truth, but Josh got the feeling that Lucy might personally tear him limb from limb if he gave anyone any indication of how close they’d been once. “Can you give me a few minutes?”

A grin twisted Carson’s lips. “Given how she was trying to kill you with looks alone, you might need more than a few minutes.”

“I didn’t come here for her,” Josh said in as good-natured a tone as he could manage. “Let me get this settled, and then we can go somewhere and get a beer and you can fill me in on what the hell has been happening around here.” As if he could just “settle” the matter of Lucy when she was clearly out for blood.

Carson looked defeated. “That’s going to take a lot more than one beer,” he said. “Go on. Another five minutes isn’t going to change anything.”

“Thanks.” Josh took a deep breath and began to follow Lucy Wilde.

Except she wasn’t Lucy, not anymore. Lucy had been a wide-eyed, freckled girl who had been wildly in love with his best friend, Gary Everly. Josh had actually liked her—he’d liked her quite a bit. She’d had a dry sense of humor and a sharp wit that she only used when people had her backed into a corner, which they did at their own risk. She’d been smart—smarter than either of the boys.

And she’d loved Gary. It hadn’t mattered that he’d been sick. More times than he could count, Josh had caught Lucy gazing at Gary with unabashed adoration. It had never bothered him. Really. Lucy had been one of the best things to happen to Gary, and Josh had not begrudged his childhood friend the little bit of happiness Lucy was able to bring him in a dark time.

Josh had tried to make Gary happy, too. Minigolf, cow tipping, the movies—together, they’d made a hell of a group, tearing up Cedar Point, Iowa. He’d had the car and the Calhoun cash; Gary had had his bucket list; and Lucy had kept them from doing anything truly stupid. In fact, if Josh was remembering things correctly, it’d been Lucy who’d passed judgment on whomever Josh had dated. A lot of the time, they’d been a foursome.

But a lot of the time...it’d just been the three of them. Him, her and Gary.

Until Gary had died. Four days before his eighteenth birthday. Of leukemia. Because his folks hadn’t been able to afford to bring him to Chicago or anyplace that had a really good oncology department.

Not that it would have mattered. After all, Sydney had had access to the best medical care in the country and it hadn’t been enough to save her.

Josh was already clinging to his sanity by his fingernails just being back in Chicago, but to suddenly find himself confronted with Lucy Wilde and Gary’s memory was almost too much. He wanted to bail and go back to his cows and stay far away from the people he loved because that was the best way of keeping them safe.

He did not want Lucy Wilde to remind him of yet another person he’d lost.

Not that he had a lot of choice in the matter. He walked toward her slowly so that he could try to put his thoughts in order. This was not the same girl he remembered. Oh, sure, she still had on a massive pair of eyeglasses that gave her an owlish appearance. And the only thing that seemed to have changed about her stick-straight blond hair was that she had pulled it up into a bun. But half of her hair had worked itself free and fell around her face and shoulders, making her look ethereal.

Josh almost smiled. Lucy had never had a head for fashion or style and, given that she was wearing a shapeless doctor’s coat over equally shapeless black trousers and a mannish blue button-up blouse, that hadn’t changed, either.

But the fire in her eyes? That was something new. Something that had made him come to a screeching halt and stare at her in openmouthed wonder.

The way he had the last time he’d seen her.

She reached her destination and spun, glaring at him. Her toe began to tap and he wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d pulled out a phone and checked the time.

“It’s good to see you again, Lucy,” he began.

He didn’t get any further than that. “What are you doing here?” At least she kept her voice to a fierce whisper.

“Like I said, I’m friends with the Newport boys. They called me and asked for help sorting out this mess.”

“Don’t give me that,” she snapped. “Because rolling up here and turning on all of your charm to convince my patient’s family that he would be best served outside the hospital is not exactly how I wanted to see you again, Joshua Calhoun.”

Ouch. She was busting out the Joshua already. So much for warm, fuzzy reunions. But he couldn’t help himself. Teasing Lucy had been so much fun because she always gave so much better than she got. He heard himself slipping right back into it. “So, how did you want to see me again?”

If looks could kill, he would probably need emergency medical help right now. “I didn’t.”

There wasn’t a single thing about this situation that should make him smile, but he did. “I’m just going to go out on a limb here, but you seem upset with me.”

Her eyes widened at the challenge. “Oh? Do you think? No. You obviously don’t. Because if you did think, you would remember...” Abruptly, her voice trailed off into a new emotional place, replacing the anger that flamed out all over her face.

It almost looked painful.

He didn’t like that pained look. Because he did remember. He remembered quite clearly. What had happened between them—it wasn’t the sort of thing a man forgot. He may not think about it every single day of his life. But, no, he hadn’t forgotten about going to Gary’s funeral and Lucy clinging to his hand the whole time and then pulling him out back at the wake and telling him that she needed him, needed him so badly because she hurt so much and she just wanted to not hurt and would he...

“Oh, my God,” Lucy gasped, recoiling in horror. “Stop. Stop right there.”

Josh shook himself. He was pretty sure he hadn’t said anything out loud. “What?”

“Don’t.” Somehow her eyes got even wider and, behind her thick glasses, even more owlish. Her back straightened and he realized that, despite the fact that she was wearing an almost sexless doctor’s uniform, she wasn’t the same girl he remembered. She was taller and, with her shoulders squared, he could see that a woman’s curves filled out her body.

If she’d had those curves back then...

“Don’t what?” he asked, although he knew that was a lame dodge. She’d always been so incredibly perceptive, and as for him—well, he’d always been an open book. He’d only ever been able to hide one thing from her—exactly how much he’d liked her.

The only other woman he’d never been able to hide anything from was Sydney.

Which meant Lucy had realized exactly what he’d been thinking.

“Just don’t, Josh,” she finished weakly. Then, she blushed. Hard. So hard that she went scarlet from the tips of her ears to the base of her neck. Lucy was so tomato red that he didn’t even need to look at her hands to know they’d turned bright red, too.

“Lucy...”

But whatever vulnerability he’d glimpsed was gone in an instant. “Don’t you dare ‘Lucy’ me,” she interrupted. Everything about her body tightened as if she were fighting off some urge. He had no idea whether she was going to punch him or what. “I am Dr. Lucinda Wilde now, and so help me, Josh Calhoun, if you roll up in here and in any way, shape or form compromise the care of my patients, I will personally make sure the rest of your life is a living hell.”

She spun on her heel and he knew she was done with him, but, damn it, he wasn’t willing to let it go. He reached out and grabbed her hand. “Lucy, it doesn’t have to be like this.”

She froze. Her gaze dropped down to where he had her by the hand. Her skin was warm and soft against his, softer than he’d expected it to be. He closed his fingers around hers and, without really thinking about it, pulled her closer to him.

A feeling so unfamiliar, so foreign that he couldn’t name it right away, hit him low in the gut. Lucy. This was Lucy, and against all odds he’d missed her. He took another step into her, closing the distance between them.

Dear God in heaven, what he was feeling right now? Desire. Want.

Need.

Josh Calhoun did a gut check and, for the first time in five years, his gut told him to go for it.

For Lucy Wilde, of all people.

His heart began to pound and his skin began to prickle. He inhaled deeply. She smelled of hospitals and antiseptics and, underneath that, a hint of something sweet, and all he wanted to do was lean his head down and taste her to find out what that sweetness was.

Then she looked up at him, her light blue eyes impossibly wide. “Yes, it does.”

He wasn’t going to accept that. “Have dinner with me.”

That made her laugh—and pull her hand away from his grip. “Seriously? Am I not making myself clear? I thought you were smarter than this, Josh. I don’t want to see you. We’re not friends anymore.”

“We are.” Her eyeballs bugged out of her head at this declaration. “Well, we can be again.”

“No,” she said softly, turning away from him. This time he didn’t try to stop her. “After what happened? No, we can’t.”

He watched her go, her words echoing louder in his head the farther away she got.

She hated him. Well, he supposed he deserved nothing less than her contempt. She’d needed him to comfort her after her high school sweetheart had died and he’d...

He’d forced himself to turn her down. He’d embarrassed her then and he’d embarrassed her again, that much was obvious. She only ever got that red when she lost her temper.

But she didn’t realize how hard it’d been to say no to her. How much it’d hurt to know that he’d added to her pain. To have twice watched Lucy Wilde walk away from him and know that he’d screwed it up.

Damn it all to hell and back.

He watched a construction worker scurry out of Lucy’s way right before she disappeared around a corner. He should let it go. She’d made her position more than clear. Just as she had seventeen years ago when he’d rejected her.

But it’d been different then. He’d been a kid in mourning for his best friend and due to leave Cedar Point in just a few weeks for college in Chicago. He’d rationalized that a clean break was best for all of them.

Now?

Now his gut was telling him that maybe it was okay to look at another woman and feel something. Something good. Something right.

He hadn’t felt anything in so long...

No. He wasn’t going to let Lucy Wilde walk away from him a second time with so much unsaid between them. He wasn’t the same confused kid he’d been. He was a man now and he knew what he wanted.