Not Your Usual Monday

Good Day Everyone.  If everything is as planned, I am enjoying the view of the Gulf of Mexico from my balcony room in Florida.  The sun is shining, I'm listening to the sound of gulls which is music to my ears and the salty sea breeze is wafting through the air as I sip my coffee, or pina colada, or some variation thereof.  Get the picture?

As promised last Monday, today in lieu of a new story, I'm giving you a look into The Doctor and Her Rancher.  The first chapter is what you see when you click on "See Inside"

Chapter One
Dr. Lauren Bancroft drove into Carsonville on a Tuesday afternoon in mid-September. Overwhelmed with the beauty surrounding her, she knew she would be at home here. Carsonville, Montana was as picturesque a town as one could ever expect to see. She felt as if she was driving onto a movie set back in Los Angeles instead of her new home. Main Street boasted a general store, a small Mom and Pop Grocery store, a café, an old-fashioned looking drug store, nothing like Walgreen’s or CVS, the local bank, and a post office. Driving further down Main Street she saw the town hall, the Fire Department, a local grain and feed store and at the end stood a white church with a tall steeple.  Following directions on her GPS, she turned at the only light in town onto Madison Avenue.  She drove past a laundromat, the sheriff’s office and found what she was looking for – a square of buildings marked Medical Center.  There were four wooden structures surrounding a courtyard.   One housed a dentist, a veterinarian office, an emergency clinic and next to that her new office.  Dr. Dedham’s sign still hung above the door. There was a sign in the window announced Dr. Lauren Bancroft, the new town doctor, would be arriving soon and until then call 406 555 4468 for emergencies only. She smiled to herself.

Lauren was born and raised in a small town outside of Ketchum, Idaho.  Her dad was a pharmacist and her mom taught high school science. So it didn’t come as a surprise when, at seven years old, Lauren announced that when she grew up she wanted to be a doctor.  She remained steadfast in that wish and started researching the best colleges when she was only a high school junior. She received a partial scholarship to UCLA and then went on to David Geffen UCLA Medical School. She had completed an internship and residency at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center before she joined a private practice where she became one of fifty other doctors.  She hated it.  There was no time to actually get to know a patient – you knew the chart and nothing else.  It wasn’t why she went into medicine, but it paid down some of the debt hanging over her head so she toiled there until the death of her parents freed her. If she had her druthers, she would rather have had her parents for a few more years, but a helicopter crash during a tour of the Grand Canyon shattered that possibility

At thirty-five and debt free, she began looking for a better place to live and practice the kind of medicine she dreamed of while watching Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman as a young girl.  She was leafing through the New England Journal of Medicine when an ad caught her eye.  Carsonville was looking for a town doctor. 

Googling Carsonville, she found the town was named after Cassidy Carson, who settled in the area in 1867.  Carson fought for the south during the civil war and when he returned home found he’d lost everything including his wife and small son. He headed west like hundreds of others displaced by the war and joined a cattle drive in Texas that traveled along the Bozeman Trail in Montana.  The vast grasslands of the open range enticed many of the drovers to stay and try their hand at ranching.  Despite the trials and tribulations, he and others prevailed and settled the town of Carsonville.

Now, here she was, setting down roots in this Montana town of 2000. When she called the number in the paper, she spoke with a man named Trace Connors.  He explained the township owned the practice and the equipment of both the office and the clinic and she would receive a salary, malpractice insurance as well as housing. It wasn’t a fortune or even close to her last salary, but it was enough for her.  She punched the new address into her GPS and started out of town.  Several of the townsfolk waved as she went by.  Of course, the Caduceus symbol on the out of state plate probably gave her away, but it was nice to know the people were friendly.

Her GPS pinged and told her to make a right.  A right to where she asked herself because the only thing she saw was a graveled road.  She stopped and verified that she entered the correct address and made the right.  She hoped she was going the right way because she hadn’t encountered another vehicle since leaving Main Street. The sun was starting to set behind the mountain and the thought of being lost out here in the middle of nowhere frightened her.  The road continued to climb. She tried keeping her eyes on the road, but it was difficult.  She kept admiring the beauty of nature.  Surrounding her were dense pine forest and quaking aspens with their mantle of gold lining the road, and ahead the ever-present majestic Rocky Mountains already cloaked in a dusting of snow on their highest peaks.  About a mile later, she came to a ranch house, behind that a dormitory-like building, and a large barn all clustered in a clearing.  Her GPS didn’t say she reached her destination so she continued up the road.  At least if she was lost, she wasn’t alone out here in the boonies. Looming in front of her stood two massive lodgepole pines bearing a sign announcing she had arrived at Double Pines Ranch. At the same time the GPS said she had arrived at her destination.  She followed the drive to the main house and parked the car. 

The main house was an enormous two-story log house that looked more like a lodge than someone’s house.  One side of the massive double oak doors opened as she approached the porch and a man, looking as if he stepped out of the old Marlboro man commercials, filled the doorway.

“Hello, Dr. Bancroft, I assume.”  He laughed.  “I’m Trace Connors.  Welcome to Carsonville and the Double Pines Ranch.  Won’t you come in?” He extended his hand and taking it she felt the roughness and calluses of a working man.

“Thanks, I’d love to.  It feels good to get out of the car.  You have a beautiful home,” she told him as her eyes wandered around the room and zoned in on the logs burning in a huge stone fireplace.

“Thank you, I can’t take any of the credit.  I grew up here and haven’t really changed anything.  Can I offer you some coffee or tea?  My housekeeper isn’t here today, so I’m on my own in the hospitality department.”

“Is coffee too much trouble?” she asked. 

“Dr. Bancroft, coffee is the lifeblood of a rancher.  I just brewed a fresh post.  Want to follow me into the kitchen or would you rather I bring it in here.”

“Oh no, the kitchen is terrific. And please, call me Lauren.”

They walked down a long hallway past another large living area on the right and a dining room with a table that could easily seat twelve on the left, and into the kitchen.  She thought she was in a restaurant kitchen with a huge six burner Wolf stove complete with grill, double wall ovens, a side by side Sub-Zero refrigerator, and a butcher block island with hanging copper pots.  Oak cabinets surrounded the kitchen and she could see a walk-in pantry.  He walked over to a simple Mr. Coffee coffee maker that looked so out of place in this otherwise high-end kitchen.  He waved her hand toward a round table with six chairs sitting in front of the floor to ceiling windows filled with a view of the magnificent Rockies.  He grabbed two mugs from a cabinet next to double farm sinks and brought them to the table along with the coffee carafe.

“Cream and sugar?”

“No, strong and black for me.  It’s what got me through med school and residency.”

“A girl after my own heart.” She melted at his smile, noticing that it went all the way to his very blue eyes that twinkled. 

They settled in the chairs and sat drinking coffee as they chatted about life.  She told him about her life in Los Angeles.  “I’m afraid you’re going to be bored here in Carsonville. I don’t know how someone as attractive as you and coming from an area like LA is going to be happy here in our little town. The most exciting thing that happens is a dance once in a while down at the Grange Hall.”

“Thank you for the attractive part but my LA life wasn’t at all exciting.  Sure there are many options but by the time my day was done, so was I.  Leaving wasn’t difficult at all. I grew up in a small town and am looking forward to a less hectic pace.”

“Look, it’s getting dark and I haven’t even showed you your quarters.  What say I fix us a little dinner and then you can stay here in the main house tonight and I’ll take you over to your place in the morning.  I assure you, you’re safe here – I’m not a serial killer or a letch.  Choose any of our six guest rooms and all the rooms have locks.”  She smiled at him.

“I don’t want to put you out.”

“Trust me, you’re not.  Your place will be cold, there are only bare-bones supplies and I’m not sure where everything is.  My housekeeper, usually in charge of these things, had to help her daughter who is having a baby. It’ll be much easier on both of us if you stay here tonight.”

“Okay, thank you.  Although I’m anxious to see my new space, I’m worn out from driving.  Let me go get my things from the car.”

“You stay put, I’ll get it.”

“It’s the one in the back seat,” she told him as he walked toward the door.  She couldn’t help but notice how well his jeans fit his long legs and tight butt.  ‘Stop drooling’ she said to herself.

He came back in and dropped her bag in the hallway.  “Would you like to freshen up while I get dinner? Don’t get me wrong, you’re fine as you are.” She laughed at his awkwardness. 

“No worries.  I’d love to freshen up.”  He carried her bag upstairs and stopped at the first door at the top of the stairs.  “Will this be okay?”

“Okay? You’re kidding, right? It’s larger and better appointed than most hotel rooms.”   He smiled at her as he showed her the bathroom and pulled some towels out of the linen closet.  “Come downstairs when you’re ready and holler if you need anything.”

She washed her face, combed her hair, and gave herself a swish of perfume before heading back downstairs. A bottle of wine and a couple of glasses rested on the counter.  He motioned to them and asked if she wanted to join him in a drink.  She nodded and he asked her to do the honors.  She uncorked the wine and poured two glasses.  He took his wine over to the counter and she sat at the table. 

“Can I help?” 

“Thanks but there’s really nothing to do.  I threw a couple of potatoes in the oven. I’ll grill a couple of steaks, toss a salad and sauté some mushrooms.  Sound good to you?”

“Sounds wonderful.” He knew his way around this kitchen and looked right at home. After Lauren’s second glass of wine, she realized how comfortable she felt with the man she’d only met hours earlier.  Over dinner and the rest of the wine, Trace talked about Double Pines Ranch and himself.  He and his sister were adopted by the Connor's at three and two years old.  Maureen and Duncan Connor had built up this ranch and were now retired.  They spent the summers here but wintered in Florida.  His sister married Flynn McCullough, the ranch foreman and along with their two kids lived in the ranch house she passed on the way up.

“I’m surprised she lives there and you live here.”

“That’s Flynn’s doing.  He refused to live in this house, said it wasn’t his.  We had trouble even convincing him he didn’t have to pay rent on the house they’re in now.  He is tough, but Cory loves him – he’s a good husband, father and the best ranch foreman around.  We’re lucky to have him.”

“So how about you?  Are you married, have any children?”

“No and no.  Came close once. I met Marylou in college and wanted to marry her but she didn’t wish to be a rancher’s wife and I guess I didn’t love her enough to give up my life here.  Since then, I date now and again but it’s not like there are a lot of choices.  Most of the gals are either already married or headed off to the big city and bright lights as soon as they got out of high school.  I’m pretty picky and want something special – something like Cory and Flynn.  They have a traditional marriage and I want that for myself if I ever find the right person.”

“What is your definition of a traditional marriage?”

“Okay, here’s where it gets me in trouble every time.  Maybe the fact that we’re not in a relationship will make this easier to explain.  Anyway, I think one person should lead in any relationship – much like a dancing partner.  Two leaders don’t work and I think it’s the same way in a marriage.”

“So you think men should be the “boss” so to speak.”

“I think it could be either man or woman, but there has to be one leader, one person who gets the final say.  In my relationship,  I know that it would have to be me. It’s the way I’m wired.”

“Sounds reasonable, I guess.  I’ve never given it much thought.”

“Let me tell you when I’ve answered that question before, I haven’t exactly been the most popular person in the room.”  He laughed.  The clock chimed ten o’clock and neither could believe so much time had passed while they sat at the table talking.

“Thank you for tonight, room, board and great conversation in the Rocky Mountains-- how lucky am I?  Sweet dreams,” she told him as she headed to her bedroom.

Even though she should be exhausted after the day, she couldn’t sleep.  She kept thinking about that long, lean rancher (she refused to allow herself to think of him as a cowboy) down the hall.  Not in the market for a husband or even a boyfriend, but if she was, she didn’t have far to look.  She finally drifted off to sleep with visions of Trace Connor in her head and in her dreams

Now comes the part you haven't read unless you exercised your finger and clicked.

Chapter Two

Lauren woke the next morning with a smile.  Once sleep finally came, she slept soundly and had the best night’s sleep she’d had in a long time.  She stretched, enjoying the warmth of the comforter and the silkiness of the sheets.  ‘I could get used to this,’ she thought to herself.  She finally talked herself into getting out of bed, hit the shower and packed up her belongings before she headed downstairs.

Making a beeline toward the coffee maker, she picked up a note with her name on it.

Lauren, I had to head out, had some chores that needed doing. Hope you slept well.  Marta is still not back so we’re on our own.  Coffee is set up, flick the switch.  Feel free to rummage around and fix yourself something for breakfast. When I get back, I’ll take you over to your quarters.  

                                                      Trace

Lauren flicked the switch and remembered what cabinet Trace had found the mugs the day before.  For the first time, she actually looked out the window and realized there was a light dusting of snow on the ground.  ‘Seriously, it’s only September.’  Then she remembered where she was; she’d been in Los Angeles so long she had forgotten. This snow wouldn’t last long, the sun was already peeking through the clouds making the ground look as if it was covered with thousands of sparkling little diamonds. She stepped out the mud room door and breathed in the cold fresh mountain air.  Yesterday’s landscape of green pines and quaking golden aspens were now cloaked in a dusting of snow – she knew Carsonville was definitely the right choice.

Starting to shiver, she turned to go back in the house when she spied someone coming toward her on horseback.  She was squinting into the sun and all she saw was black – a large horse beneath an equally large man.  Bringing her hand up to shade her eyes, she realized it was Trace. Wearing a sheepskin coat and brown cowboy hat, he waved a gloved hand in her direction.  She waved back before stepping back into the mud room. She took another mug from the cabinet and poured two cups of coffee.

Trace let his horse graze knowing Jet wouldn’t wander off as long as there was grass to munch and walked into the mud room.  He removed his coat and hat and stomped the snow off his boots before entering the kitchen. Lauren saw their reflection in the window and although she stood 5’9” in her stocking feet, he dwarfed her.  He had to be at least six and a half feet tall with hair as black as the horse he rode – except there were several silver strands running through his mane. With his cobalt blue eyes and skin ruddy from either the wind or the cold, Lauren felt he was the best-looking man she had ever seen.  She may not have been looking for a male companion when she drove up to Double Pines Ranch, but her senses were delivering a different message.

“Good Morning, Lauren.  I’m sorry I wasn’t here, but ranch chores don’t wait.  Marta usually fixes breakfast but…”

“Have you eaten?” 

“I grabbed an egg sandwich at the bunkhouse.”

“If you’re still hungry, I’d like to make you breakfast.  I’m sure there are eggs and such.  If you want, I’ll even make pancakes.”

“A hungry cowboy never turns down food.”

“Okay then.  Sit down, drink your coffee and I’ll get started.”

“I’m sure you can find everything you need in the pantry. The bowls are in that cabinet and the pots and pans are there on the rack or in the cabinet below the island.”

He watched as she gathered what she needed.  She was a beautiful woman, tall and willowy and natural, comfortable in her own skin.  Lip gloss the only discernible makeup to his untrained eye.  Her long brown hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, sweeping back and forth like a clock pendulum as she moved around the kitchen. Each time she moved, she left a floral scent in her wake. He noticed she bit her lip as she concentrated on mixing the batter and he realized he wanted to go over and kiss her. ‘Where is this coming from?’ he said to himself. ‘She’s my tenant and the town doctor, not my girlfriend. Still, we got along great last evening; she’s bright, witty and looks like she knows her way around a kitchen. Wow, Trace, that’s sexist.’  He’d been so busy ruminating about Dr. Lauren Bancroft and he didn’t realize she asked him if he wanted more coffee.

“No, I’m okay,” he finally answered and swore he heard her mumble, ‘yes you are.' He smirked and thought that maybe he wasn’t alone in the possible romance department.

They were halfway through breakfast when the mud room door opened and two tykes came bounding in running to Unca Trace, oblivious to the fact there was someone else there also.  A woman looking exactly like Trace followed behind.

“Hi, I’m Cory McCullough, Trace’s sister and you must be the new doctor.”  She extended her hand to Lauren and kissed her brother’s head. “Welcome to Carsonville.  Boys quit climbing all over your uncle.” All those sentences came out of one breath and Lauren laughed to herself.

“I definitely see the family resemblance, with the boys too.  You all have that beautiful black hair.”

“Yeah, it’s probably our Native American genes.  My husband is part Native American too, so I guess they didn’t stand a chance. The boys both have his brown eyes whereas mine are green.  Marta’s not back yet, I see.”  Again this conversation came out as one long breath.

“No, not yet.  I asked Dr. Bancroft to stay here last evening because it was late and I didn’t think her place was ready.  After breakfast, we’re heading over there so she can settle in.”   Lauren saw a look across Cory’s face, but she didn’t say a word.

The boys continued to hang on their uncle until Cory told them to scoot and get out in the SUV.  Trace patted their behinds as they ran off.

“Flynn wanted me to come by and ask if you needed anything from town.  He’s given me a list so I better get a move on if I know what’s good for me.  Want to come for dinner tonight? Dr. Bancroft, you’re invited too if you want.”

Lauren decided she was going to have to get used to Cory’s way of talking – signs of a busy woman – sixteen thoughts at once. 

“Sure, we’ll both be there,” Trace answered.  Lauren tried to cover her surprise, by asking if she could bring anything.

“Nope, only yourself,” Cory answered. “I’m off, call me if you remember anything. Nice meeting you,” and the door slammed behind her.

Lauren started to clean up from breakfast when Trace told her to sit.  “No, I want to help.”

“Sit. You cooked, I’ll clean.”  She ignored him and continued loading the dishwasher. He twisted the towel and swatted her behind.  “Do I have to treat you the way I treat the boys to get their attention?”  She giggled, not knowing how else to react.  Her body knew how to respond, though, she felt a sudden dampness between her legs.  Not sure if she should sit or continue cleaning, she chose to sit.

“Good girl.  I don’t know you well enough to take this further.” Another tingle in her nether regions.

“Further, whatever do you mean, sir?” she asked in a flirty way.

“I mean, I’d hate to have to take you over my knee. I don’t want to sabotage a future relationship by a spanking because you wouldn’t listen.”  She felt the heat on her face and in other areas too.  If this kept up, she’d have to change her panties before long.

“I don’t think you know me well enough for that yet, either.” She hoped she sounded braver than she felt.  He smiled and his thoughts went to the fact she didn’t get all huffy about his words the way most women did.

“Thanks for breakfast, by the way.  I love pancakes and rarely take the time to enjoy them. I’ll be done in a minute and we can get going.”

“If you had let me help, we would already be done.”

“Dr. Bancroft, are you giving me sass?”

“Not me.  Only stating a fact.”  He laughed.  “I like you, Dr. Lauren Bancroft, we’re going to get along fine.”

“I think so too,” she said.  She started to take her bag to the car when he spun around and stopped her.  “I’ll carry the bag, it’s heavy.”

“May I point out that my medical bag is heavier than that bag.  Are you going to be trailing behind me to haul that too?”

“You really are spunky.  And no, I’m not going to be trailing behind you.  However, a gentleman should always carry a lady’s bag. My momma taught me that.”

“Far be it from me to challenge a momma’s teaching.”

“The longer we spend together, the feistier you become.”

“This is the real me. I feel like I know you well enough to let my hair down a little.  After all, we slept under the same roof and I made you breakfast.  In some cultures, we’d have to get married.”  She laughed at her own remark.

“You’re hilarious.  Are you ready to check out your new home?”  He pointed to a house set off to the left not that far from the main house.  “That’s it. You drive and I’ll ride over on Jet. Last one’s there a rotten egg.” 

The white clapboard house, though small, looked charming.  Two rocking chairs graced the porch and she opened the front door to a large room with a stone fireplace, floor to ceiling bookshelves on one side, stacked wood and an ash bucket on the other.  A functional small kitchen with a table and chairs stood to the right. The hall bath had an old-fashioned claw foot tub and a commode with a tank mounted on the wall.  At the end of the hallway was a cozy bedroom with a log–style bed that took up most of the bedroom, and an enormous closet with a built in dresser.

“It’s charming.”

“Yeah, my folks lived here while they made changes to the main house.  We’ve ordered a comfortable chair and couch for the living room and it should be here today actually.  Purchase whatever you think you need to make this home and submit the receipts to me. Same goes for the clinic.  Speaking of that, I have a key for you too.”

“So are you in charge of everything in Carsonville?  You have your hand in many pots.”

“I’m an elected member of the town council and the other board members appointed me chairman, so I do have a lot on my plate.  Speaking of that, I have ranch business that needs my attention.  Will you be okay if I leave now?  Oh, I’ll pick you up for dinner at the McCullough’s about 6:30.

“Sure, go.  Thanks for everything.  I’ll see you tonight.”

Hope you've enjoyed reading and I'll see you later for more Aimless Ramblings.