Claimed By The Cowboy. Sarah M. Anderson

Claimed By The Cowboy - Sarah M. Anderson


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Josh Calhoun, of the Calhoun Creamery. I went to college with the Newport boys and I count them as some of my oldest friends. I understand that things have been challenging recently and I wanted to stop by and see if I could do anything to help.” As he said this last bit, his gaze shifted back to Lucinda.

      Oh, come on—was he seriously including her in that statement? If that’s what he thought, he had another think coming.

      But he was the Newports’ oldest friend? Figured. As if the Winchester/Newport feud wasn’t enough of a tangled web to be caught in, Josh Calhoun had to go and add another thread. A big, fat, complicated thread.

      Carson jumped in, taking advantage of Eve’s stunned silence. “Josh, this is Dr. Lucinda Wilde. She’s the oncologist who’s overseeing Sutton’s care. If there’s one thing that Eve and I can agree on...” At this, Eve snorted. “It’s that Dr. Wilde has managed to stabilize our father. Without her, he would probably already be dead.”

      “Dr. Lucinda Wilde,” Josh said, rolling each of the words off his tongue as if he was trying to figure out which part was the strangest. He leaned forward, his hand out. “Lucinda? And you’re an oncologist now? I should have guessed.”

      She did not want to touch him. So she nodded her head and stuck her hands behind her back. “Josh. Sorry,” she added in a not-sorry voice. “Germs, you know.”

      Eve and Carson shared a look. “Do you two know each other?” Carson asked.

      She didn’t answer. She didn’t want to cop to knowing Josh. She didn’t want anyone in Chicago to know about their tangled past, and she absolutely didn’t want to be thinking about Josh Calhoun, past or present.

      Sadly, it seemed as though she didn’t have much of a choice. “Yeah,” Josh said, letting his hand hang out there for a second before he lowered it back to his side. “Well, I knew Lucy Wilde.”

      She shuddered at the sound of her name. She’d left Lucy Wilde behind when she’d left Iowa, and there was no going back. “We went to the same high school,” she explained to Carson and Eve. “But only for two years.” She shot a warning glare at Josh because if he took it upon himself to add to that simple truth, she might have to kick him somewhere very important.

      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


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