Page 5 of More Than a Helping Hand

“A doctor, huh?”

Parker is being completely unhelpful and just staring. Again. What is up with the staring?

“Maybe I should get this looked at.” I’m beyond thrilled that I’ll have to drop my jeans for medical staff. Not.

This is not what I planned for the day.

Bailey squeezes my hand. “It’s okay to cry if it hurts.”

“Thank you, Munchkin.” All these years, I’ve managed to avoid getting poked by a cactus, but it’s finally happened. And I wasn’t even outside.

She nods, then runs over to Parker. “Are you going to take him to the doctor?”

Parker snaps to and grabs his phone. “Let me call?—”

“Hey, what’s going on in here?” Dallas walks in and surveys the room.

Bailey shifts behind Parker, clearly trying to hide from Dallas.

“If you have your truck, I could use a ride.” I trudge toward the door.

“Sure. What’s going on?” As he walks out behind me, he adds, “You have cactus spines in your butt. Probably best for you to ride in the bed.” He drops the tailgate.

“Yeah. Face down.” I lean around the truck and wave at Bailey. “I’m sorry about Fred.”

She waves back. “Feel better.”

I’m hoping I will because Fred is a pain in the butt.

CHAPTER3

PRIMROSE

“Anderson Lane.” I double-check the name and half expect someone to break out into laughter because I’m being pranked. Maybe Cathy at the front desk entered his name backward.

A very tall muscular cowboy hobbles toward me, his jaw tight. His gaze meets mine, and crinkles appear near the corners of his eyes. His voice is barely a whisper, only loud enough for me to hear, when he says, “Hellooooo, nurse.”

Thanks to the Animaniacs, I’ve heard that line a time or two, but it’s never quite had the same effect as today.

I do my best to act like I’m not turning to mush inside. “Follow me, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He keeps pace beside me.

I push open the exam room and review his basic info as he enters. “You can have a seat right there, and I’ll get your vitals.”

“Sitting down isn’t happening.”

Stifling a huff, I look up at him, and he raises an eyebrow. The silent challenge intrigues me. So before snapping at him, I lean around and look at his back. Then I read the chart again. Seriously? Cactus spines in his behind?

“Ouch. I can see why you don’t want to sit. Is your first name Anderson or Lane?”

“Anderson. My parents thought the name was fitting. They didn’t much think about the fact that I had to live with it.”

I give a polite laugh. “I just wanted to be sure we had it entered correctly.”

“Is my phone number on there? I can give it to you again.”

I rattle off his number. “Is that correct?”

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