Unlocking The Ex-Army Doc's Heart

“Winter sets in early. If you aren’t out of here by the third week of November you might have to stay until mid-March, Dr. Bradstone.”

Annie Masters leaned against the reception desk, the corner of her lip twisted in what he thought was a smile. Was she challenging him? He couldn’t stay through the winter. He’d be in breach of contract if he missed the Thanksgiving and Christmas episodes of Dr. Dave.

“I have to be back in LA by the last week of November.”

Annie—Dr. Masters—nodded. “You should be fine. The worst of the winter is still weeks away.” Her hand ran along the torn skin of her thumb before she shrugged. “If you’re worried you don’t have to stay. Jenn will be here before winter really sets in.”

“And if she’s not?”

Annie’s shoulders tensed and her fingers trembled, but her face remained still. “I’ve handled four lone winters. It’s—” Again Annie pulled at the skin along her thumb. “I’m used to being by myself.”

Shifting on his feet, Rafe fiddled with the strap of his bag. “Lone?” Why did that worry him? Clearly she’d managed.

She shrugged, and Rafe’s heart ached. Loneliness was apparently Annie’s constant companion too. He’d learned to accept its presence after his mother’s abandonment—why had a popular child star been forced to learn the same lesson?

Annie gestured toward the door leading to the back of the clinic. “If you’re staying, your apartment is this way.”

She turned and walked through a side door. She left it standing open, but didn’t wait for him. This was a challenge—a test. She expected an LA television doctor to at least consider fleeing.

But Rafe was not going to be underestimated by Dr. Annie Masters. Hiking his bag up his shoulder, Rafe took off after her.

Annie hustled past exam rooms as she hurried toward the stairs leading to her apartment at the back of her clinic. She knew Rafe—Dr. Bradstone—would follow. The man was too cocky to flee—even if he wasn’t cut out for the Arctic. His jacket and shoes wouldn’t protect him. The clinic was on the edge of the Arctic Circle. By the end of next month it would be dangerous to be outside for more than a few minutes, even with proper winter gear. This life was not for everyone.

Still, when he’d landed she’d felt—

Annie bit her lip as she tried to understand why they’d stood on the runway staring at each other.

In that moment she’d felt warm, despite the chilly wind pushing against them. Her heart had sped up as if it was trying to escape her chest, though she doubted he’d noticed.

Rafe Bradstone was used to attention—lots of it. He was an excellent general practitioner—one of the best in LA. And his ties to the entertainment industry ensured anyone watching The Dr. Dave Show knew he was both skilled and gorgeous. He was constantly reaching out to his fans—and they seemed to be everywhere.

The clinic had fielded more appointment calls this week than it had for the last two months. Everyone wanted to see Dr. Bradstone. This was going to be her life for as long as Rafe was in residence. The man was a distraction—an exceptionally attractive distraction.

Why had Jenn sent Rafe as a temporary replacement? Annie had met her best friend on the first day of medical school. She’d been the only one to introduce herself and keep their conversation focused away from Annie’s days on set. Her friend was passionate about medical access for all, and she’d promised Annie the best replacement doctor for her clinic.

Maybe she should have asked for the second-best.

Annie clenched her fists as the selfish thought slid through her. Her patients weren’t as glamorous as the ones Dr. Bradstone usually treated, but they deserved the best. It wasn’t their fault Rafe had used his medical knowledge, self-assurance and good looks as a path to celebrity.

Blue Ash had seen a population boom since Rickon Oil had announced it was opening a satellite location just outside of the town. The clinic needed two doctors to see to the expanding list of patients. Finding a doctor willing to spend the winter in near darkness, with temperatures south of negative twenty degrees, wasn’t easy. Her last new hire had left her in the lurch, with winter quickly approaching. So when Jenn had offered to spend the winter with her in Blue Ash, Annie had quickly accepted.

Her friend had sworn that Rafe would help until the middle of November, and promised she’d be here by then. But what if Jenn decided she needed to stay in LA after she moved her father into his retirement home and Rafe left?

Swallowing the fear racing up her throat, Annie straightened her shoulders. She had overstated her confidence in spending the winter alone, but if she had to she would serve the community alone for another winter.

Passing the rows of silly photos and artwork her patients created, Annie resisted the urge to turn and gauge Rafe’s reaction. His office in LA was probably professionally decorated, but she loved her homey clinic. It didn’t matter what a celebrity doctor thought of her space—he was just a temporary Arctic resident.

When she’d first opened up, one of her young patients had painted a picture of Annie and her clinic. Annie was only recognizable by the crazy red curls on the stick figure’s head, and the clinic was an amorphous blob, but little Nicole had been so proud when Annie had placed it on the wall. And over the last several years the clinic had become a miniature art and photography gallery.

Walking up the stairs and pausing at the apartment door, Annie took a deep breath before turning around. Rafe was several steps behind her. Tipping her head, Annie pursed her lips. What was wrong with her? She’d dared him to leave. Not a good way to welcome the new doctor—even if he was an arrogant celebrity physician who’d called her Charlotte Greene.

That was a name that belonged to another lifetime, but Rafe wasn’t the first to call her by name of the character she’d played from the age of seven to eighteen. Still, it hurt that the first name out of this stunning man’s full, wind-chapped lips hadn’t been Annie.

Even after all these years away from the spotlight, the role her mother had secured for her daughter still haunted her. Carrie had managed Annie’s career right from her first commercial, and she’d had no plans to give up her position when her daughter had stepped into adulthood. So, in order to “help” Annie transition from child actress to adult superstar, Annie’s mother had sold pictures of her daughter sunbathing topless.

The story that went with them hadn’t talked about how Carrie had practically forced Annie onto the secluded “private” beach and criticized her tan lines until Annie had finally slipped off the bikini top. It had simply run with the headline Child Star All Grown Up—New Roles Pouring in for Annie Masters.

It had been the final straw. She’d known she had to do something—anything—to escape Carrie’s control.

And at eighteen she’d marched away from her mother and from Hollywood—literally. She’d walked into an Army recruiting office during her mother’s hair appointment and signed enlistment papers. The Army had been supposed to be Annie’s escape—instead she’d found her purpose, first as an Army medic and then as a doctor.

But stepping away from Hollywood hadn’t been easy. Annie had fought constantly to be taken seriously. She’d focused on proving herself in the field. Making friends had taken even longer. For a long time Annie hadn’t been allowed to have any privacy without being called a snob, or worse. She’d hated it that everyone had expected the bubbly, personable Charlotte Greene. It had been almost as if she’d failed them by not meeting their expectations—particularly men. A lot of them had grown up watching her—fantasizing about her.

Except it hadn’t been Annie any of them had wanted. In the decade since she’d left Charlotte Greene behind, only one man had seen past the character, and now he was gone too.

“I’m sorry. It was unfair to assume you weren’t the doctor here.” Rafe leaned against the wall, and ran his hand over his face. “And I apologize for calling you Charlotte Greene. I look forward to working with you, Dr. Masters.”

His apology stole a bit of Annie’s fire. And his reaction was normal—perhaps that was why it hurt so much. Maybe she still hoped to find someone who’d want Annie, not the character projected on a TV screen.

The role of Charlotte had given her financial independence, but how did you measure the cost of loneliness?

Wrapping her arms around herself, she nodded. Swallowing her pride, she offered a hand. “Want to start over?”

“Yes—but can you answer one question?”

“Ask away.” She braced herself for some inane question about Hollywood, or the show she’d worked on. It wasn’t his fault; it was what everyone wanted from her.

“Why am I still cold? I can feel the heat, but I swear my body refuses to accept it.”

A pool of happiness opened inside her as his dark eyes held hers. Rafe wasn’t going to press her for any Hollywood details. It was a simple gesture, but she appreciated it.

“Southerners can be so weak.” A small giggle escaped her lips. “It’s because your feet are damp. The rest of your body is trying to compensate.”

Resting his large hands on his hips, Rafe chuckled. “I don’t think California really counts as the south.”

The rich baritone of his chuckle filled the room, rushing through her body. Tingles raced down her spine and blood pounded through Annie’s ears.

Trying to ignore the unexpected uptick in her heartbeat, Annie shrugged. “Anything south of the Alaskan border is the south.”

How did anyone concentrate around this gorgeous man? Rafe was stunning! She hadn’t found anyone so attractive since Blake.

Her fiancé had been gone for years, but she’d kept a few of his things. During her first two winters in Blue Ash, Annie had worn Blake’s sweaters, and silly wool socks, not caring that they were four sizes too big for her. They were ridiculous items to keep, but donating them hadn’t seemed like an option.

Last winter she’d pulled them out but hadn’t worn any of them. Maybe it was time to finally clear out the drawers. Blake…

“Annie?”

Shaking herself free from the past, Annie took a step back. She needed to put a bit of distance between them. “Sorry, what did you say?”

Rafe moved closer, but he didn’t crowd her. “I said, aren’t you from California too?”

“Yes.”

Sandalwood and lemon erupted across her senses. Of course Rafe would smell as good as he looked.

Annie gestured to her own feet. “And it took three winters before people stopped telling me all the different ways I was likely to lose my toes. Although I feel honor bound to warn you—”

“My shoes aren’t made for winter. Several individuals have already informed me. So, in three winters I’ll be a regular Alaskan—assuming I upgrade my footgear?” He laughed as he spun around her small kitchen.

“Your Arctic experience so far already has you thinking of becoming one of us?”

Annie pursed her lips, unwilling to admit to the leap of fire darting across her belly. It would be nice to pretend someone else would land in Blue Ash and see it the way she did—recognize it as home. But that was not going to be Dr. Bradstone. He wanted spotlights and a fan base—not long winters and nightless summers.

“Is there a place to set this down or am I sleeping in the kitchen?” Rafe let out an uncomfortable laugh. “I fear it’s been a while since I slept on the floor, but I can manage.”

Annie motioned for him to follow her to the guest room. “Do you enjoy camping?” She’d slept on the ground many times during her Army service and didn’t particularly like it.

“No.” Rafe’s voice was strained as he laid his bag on the bed and began digging through it.

“Then why did you sleep on the floor? Was it a silly kids’ game?” Annie had worked all through her childhood, but she was always fascinated to hear about the imaginary games other kids had played to occupy their time.

“Didn’t always have a bed.” Rafe’s words were clipped.

Why hadn’t he had a bed?

Rafe didn’t elaborate as he grabbed another pair of socks.

Swallowing the questions stuck in her throat, Annie frowned at the thin socks in his hands. “You’re in the Arctic, Dr. Bradstone. You will lose your toes if you wear those.”

She turned to the closet. He might enjoy the trappings of celebrity, but she didn’t want him to suffer under her roof.

“Here.”

She tossed a pair of Blake’s thick wool socks to Rafe. Rafe pulled them on and sighed—just like Blake used to. She had always joked that her fiancé loved putting on socks more than anything else.

Annie’s heart clenched as Rafe slid his feet into the pair of boots she’d given him. Rafe wasn’t Blake. He was attractive, and she didn’t want him losing any toes on her watch. That was it.

“Do all Arctic residents maintain a supply of socks for us weak southerners?” Rafe smiled as he stood.

“No.” The bell at the front of her apartment saved Annie from finding a reason for the socks. She didn’t talk about Blake—ever.

“Dr. A? We need you.”

A scream echoed up the hall as she raced for the front of the clinic, Rafe close behind her.

She saw Danny Mills’ eyes dart quickly to the newcomer before shifting back to Annie. “I was moving some of the food drums for the animals and one fell. I didn’t—”

“Who’s hurt and where?” Annie interrupted as she looked behind him. She’d talk to Danny about the accident later—now she needed facts.

Danny’s lower lip trembled. “Grandpa Mac. He tried to catch the drum, but it landed on his leg. It’s bleeding—bad. Jeremiah’s bringing him in now.”

Before Annie could say anything, Rafe rushed for the door—without his coat.

“Not a smart move…” Danny’s whispered words held a faint hint of admiration as the door slammed shut.

Annie sighed. Rafe’s decision was foolish. It was just the sort of showboating one might expect of a doctor on a television show. Still, she admired Rafe’s dedication.

“Direct them into Room Three, Danny. I’m going to grab supplies.”

Annie maintained only a small supply of blood. She knew Mac was O positive, but she quickly double-checked his chart. Any injury was going to slow him down heading into winter preparations. And the older man would refuse to take any days of vacation or rest. She mentally ran through a few arguments that might convince the hard worker to let his legion of children and grandkids do the heavy lifting for a week or so. Maybe Rafe could try his hand.

Another scream tore through the clinic, and Annie’s fingers fumbled with the stitches she was laying out. Mac’s pain tolerance was legendary. And people often overestimated the amount of blood their loved ones had lost. But what if Danny hadn’t?

“Annie!”

Rafe’s call sent shivers of fear down her spine as she grabbed the blood and ran from the room.

“What’s…?” The word died on her lips as she stumbled into Room Three.

Mac’s face was ashen. A jagged cut ran from his ankle to just below his knee, but the bone wasn’t visible in the coating of blood. That was good.

“How much of this is dried blood?” Annie pushed past Danny and Jeremiah, deposited the blood bag on a hook and moved to Rafe’s side.

The wound needed to be cleaned, and it was going to require at least two dozen stitches. It was a simple fix, but with the amount of blood he’d lost…

Annie let those thoughts slide away as she looked to Rafe.

“Most of it—but there is still one bleeder up by the knee.”

“What’s that mean?” Danny’s frightened voice swelled through the room.

“It means I need Dr. A’s help to treat your grandfather.” Rafe nodded to the teenager. “Can you and Jeremiah go get your grandmother?”

Danny’s face lit up with relief and purpose as he pushed toward the door. “We’ll be back real soon.”

She shot a quick smile at Rafe. Mac’s grandsons were too antsy to be allowed to stay, but Rafe had given them a job to complete rather than an order to vacate the room. It had been the right move, and Annie was grateful.

Turning her attention to Mac, Annie stepped up next to the bed. “We need to clean the wound, Mac, so Dr. Bradstone and I can get a better look. Then I think it’s best if we move you into the operating theater. You’re going to need a number of stitches and the light is better in there.”

“You sure? Maybe just a Band-Aid?” Mac offered a soft smile as he grimaced.

“It’s good you’re still making jokes.” Rafe winked at Mac before turning to Annie. “What would you like me to do? Clean or suture?”

Mac gripped Annie’s hand. “Stay with me.”

“Looks like you’re suturing.” Annie smiled at Mac before looking up to Rafe. “The sutures are laid out in the theater—it’s the second to last door on the right.”

Rafe nodded as he headed to the door. “I’ll go get everything ready. I still can’t believe I’m working with…” The words faded as Rafe disappeared through the door.

Unfortunately Annie’s mind had no trouble supplying them. Everyone always wanted Charlotte Greene.

But Rafe was a temporary clinician—a man who wanted the fancy lights of Tinseltown. It didn’t matter that he wished she was someone else.

It didn’t.

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