* * *
JOSH STALKED AWAY from the clinic. The throb in his palm had subsided thanks to the anesthetic Lauren had used before sewing it up, but it would undoubtedly begin hurting again as that wore off. She’d also written a prescription for pain pills. He had insisted they weren’t necessary, but she’d reasonably pointed out that he might change his mind after the clinic had closed.
It didn’t help to know he’d acted worse than a hungry bear right out of hibernation. The series of accidents he’d had in recent months had made him feel like a ten-thumbed greenhorn. What’s more, once he got back to the Boxing N, Grandpa was sure to make a remark that would send his blood pressure sky-high.
On Josh’s last two visits to the clinic, Lauren had suggested he needed to pay more attention to what he was doing, especially when tense or angry. It was irritating to be told something he already knew, and he hadn’t wanted to hear it again. Still, Lauren Spencer was a nice sort, and he shouldn’t have barked at her...or at the woman he’d thought was Lauren. The story of her long-lost twin sister had gone through Schuyler with the speed of a grassfire, but he hadn’t realized they were identical.
Well, not really identical, at least in personality. Lauren was quiet, almost shy at times, with a down-to-earth practicality, while Tara had a cool, sensual polish. If he’d known she was in town he never would have mixed them up, but he’d heard she lived in France. She did seem foreign in Montana, while her sister had fit in from the beginning. It was a good thing. Getting medical professionals in Schuyler was an ongoing challenge; the town had even resorted to offering a bonus for anyone agreeing to stay three years or longer.
Josh snorted grimly. People in Schuyler wouldn’t be pleased if he said anything to make Lauren unhappy. It wasn’t just that they needed a good PA, they liked her...a whole lot better than they liked him recently.
Grimacing, he fished his cell phone out, awkward from being temporarily one-handed. Finally he untied the sling and stuffed it in his pocket. His phone had rung several times in the clinic, but he hadn’t been able to answer while Lauren was stitching up his palm.
The missed calls were from his parents’ home number, so he dialed back, trying to ignore the small clutch in his chest. It had only been six months since they’d lost Grandma Evelyn, and the whole family remained jumpy about the possibility of more bad news.
“Darling, are you all right?” asked his mother in an anxious tone. “Dora Payton phoned. She said you went into the clinic covered in blood.”
“Dora overreacted, as usual. It’s just a cut and Lauren put in a few stitches.”
“Thank God. Not that I’m happy you were hurt, I’m just glad it wasn’t worse. Why don’t you come over and lie down for a while? I’ll make you lunch.”
Sarah McGregor couldn’t resist playing mommy, even for her grown children.
“Thanks, but I’m fine. As long as I’m in town, I’m going to run an errand.”
“Oh. All right. Call if you need anything.”
“Will do.” Josh disconnected before she could suggest pulling out his old teddy bear for comfort.
He returned the phone to his pocket and headed for the bank. After taking care of his business, he’d stop and grab lunch before going back to the ranch. Maybe along the way he’d get a little inspiration on dealing with his grandfather.
* * *
AS SHE AND LAUREN stepped into the Roundup Café, Tara was instantly aware that they’d become the center of attention. Heads swiveled their direction, the rhythm of the conversations changed and several people left their seats to crowd around them.
“My word, Lauren,” an older woman exclaimed, “you mentioned having a twin, but it didn’t sink in that you’d look so much alike. Your hair and eyes... I can hardly tell you apart.”
“Did you really meet for the first time in the last year?” someone else asked. “That’s amazing.”
Their curiosity was understandable. Separated and reunited twins weren’t common, and Tara knew she might be equally curious in their shoes.
“Tara,” Lauren said, “this is Vanta Cooper, she’s an attorney, and that’s Mark Corson, and this is Rob Mueller...”
The introductions continued and Tara lost track of the names; it seemed as if her sister knew everyone in town.
Vanta Cooper leaned toward Tara. “Don’t worry, nobody expects you to remember who we are. Lauren gets to know us at the clinic and other places.”
Nevertheless, Tara was getting distinctly edgy. How had her sister become friends with so many people? She’d only lived in Schuyler since last October. Maybe it was a Montana thing, the open ranges and isolation drawing everyone together. Or it could simply be that Lauren made friends easily.
Tara’s smile got harder to maintain as the introductions continued. She hoped nobody expected her to be like her twin, because she wasn’t. Life as a foster kid had taught her there were risks to getting close to people. As an adult she’d spent two years in each country where she’d worked but couldn’t claim to have friends in any of them; knowing she was leaving made it seem best to keep her distance. Naturally she had acquaintances, though she rarely kept contact with them once she moved on to a new position.
After what seemed like ages, folks returned to their seats while she and Lauren found a table along the wall.
“You’ve obviously gotten to know a lot of people here,” Tara commented after they gave their order to a server.
“Medical personnel are popular in Schuyler,” Lauren explained. “And my best friend married into one of the oldest families in town, so that helps. Everybody knows the McGregors.”
Tara frowned thoughtfully. “I thought Emily married someone named Hawkins.” Her sister had sent Emily’s name as an emergency contact after moving to Schuyler.
“She did, but Trent’s mother was a McGregor. When his parents died, he and his sister, Alaina, were adopted by their maternal uncle and aunt. The family is terrific and everybody here is so nice. I was really impressed when I came for the wedding, and since Emily loves the place so much, I decided Schuyler would be a good place to live.”
“I see.”
Just then the café door opened and in walked the wounded jackass from the clinic. He looked around, probably searching for an empty spot in the crowded restaurant, and Tara hoped he didn’t expect to join them, because while sparring with him might be interesting, she was sure it would make her sister uncomfortable.
“Hey, Lauren,” he said, stopping nearby.
“Hey, Josh.” Lauren looked at his bandage before focusing on his face. “What happened to the sling?”
“It’s in my pocket. I want to thank you for taking care of me. Sorry I was so abrupt.”
“No worries. I, um, should properly introduce you to my twin sister.” She gestured. “Josh McGregor, Tara Livingston.”
McGregor?
Oh, great.
For a moment Tara wondered whether Lauren might be sweet on the guy; that might also explain the “lecture.” If so, her move to Montana made sense. But if they were involved romantically, Tara knew she might cut her stay short—watching someone careening toward an emotional train wreck wasn’t her idea of fun. Her sister was far too quiet and shy to deal with Josh McGregor’s volatile personality. Work was the only part of Lauren’s life where she seemed confident.
“Hello,” Tara muttered, and he gave her a short, almost imperceptible nod.
“Please keep your arm elevated as much as possible,” Lauren urged him. “That spot on the hand is especially vulnerable to infection. And take it easy. You need to let it heal.”