Free Saving Dr. Ryan by Karen Templeton Page A

twenty minutes, there’d been plenty of giggling, but no cracked heads, so she’d begun to relax some.
    About that, anyway.
    Despite her kids’ shenanigans, Dr. Logan seemed to get on with them real well, which she supposed wasn’t any too surprising, considering what he did for a living. But there was still something about him that only confirmed her earlier conclusion that he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the situation. Nothing she could put her finger on, just a feeling.
    â€œSo how many rooms does this house have, anyway?” she asked, more for something to say than anything else.
    â€œWell, let’s see,” he said, leaning against the dresser flanking one wall and crossing his arms over his chest. The storm was fixing to make an encore appearance, the wind tormenting the pyracantha branches outside the house, making them scrape against the wall. “There’s four rooms downstairs, not counting the office space, another six bedrooms and two baths up here.”
    â€œGoodness.”
    Dr. Logan smiled. “This had been Doc Patterson’s childhood home. He was the youngest of nine. His parents kept adding to the original house every few years to accommodate them all.”
    â€œAnd nobody in the family wanted the house after the doctor died?”
    â€œNope. His brothers and sisters had scattered all over creation years before, their kids all have places of their own.”
    â€œWhat about his kids?”
    â€œDidn’t have any. Married twice, but no children.”
    â€œOh,” she said, then got quiet for a moment, rubbing the baby’s back. “So it’s just you in this great big place, all by yourself?”
    He paused. “Yep.”
    From the next room came a thump loud enough to make the sleeping baby’s hands flail out, followed by more giggles.
    â€œWhat made you decide to become a country doctor?” she asked, because this was something she really was curious about.
    His mouth twitched a little. “Being sick a lot as a kid, actually.”
    â€œYou?”
    â€œYep. Allergies, recurring bronchial infections, you name it. If Doc Patterson wasn’t out at our farm, I was in here, at the office. We got to be pretty good friends, he and I. Enough that, about the time I started to grow out of many of my ailments, he started taking me with him on his calls. And I began to think I wanted to follow in his footsteps.” Now he grinned, full out. “Most people I knew thought I was nuts, wanting to take on a job with no benefits, long hours, and unreliable income. But there was no talking me out of it.” He checked his watch. “It’s getting on to eight o’clock. You want me to get the kids ready for bed?”
    She opened her mouth to say, no, of course not, only to realize there was a big difference between sitting still in a chair and wrestling two wired little kids into bed. So what she said was, “I’d be very grateful.”
    Dr. Logan nodded, then headed into the adjoining room. Maddie decided she’d best supervise, though, so she got up and carefully moved herself and her new daughter into the kids’ bedroom, where Ryan was already pawing through the smaller of the two suitcases, looking for pajamas.
    â€œOh, land!” Maddie nearly gasped at the rumpled sheets and every-which-way blankets and pillows on the beds. “Would you look at what you two have done to these beds! And where did you put your new coats? They better not be on the floor somewhere!”
    Naturally they both flew out of the room to heaven-knew-where, appearing not ten seconds later, panting and giggling, with the coats.
    Maddie set Amy Rose, who was sawing logs to beat theband, down on one of the beds and reached out for the coats. “Give those to me.” She swiped dust and dirt off first one, then the other. “Honestly, you two.” But even she could tell her scolding didn’t have much punch