Page 2 of A Cowboy's Claim
“I run the clinic days with support staff. The other days, I do relief shifts at the hospital in Diamond Valley or I make house calls. It’s what this community needs.”
“I’ve always agreed that your talents are best used outside of a lab.” He tapped the arm of his chair. “But I also expect you to keep growing. A practice in the city, eventually. Something scalable. Prestigious.”
Here we go again.
“I like working with people,” Sydney said with deliberate coolness, “in a place that needs me. Being in Heart Falls is not a stepping stone. It’s my job.”
He watched her for a long moment. “And no distractions, I trust?”
There it was. The line drawn in invisible ink.
Her grandfather was rich enough to be odd, she supposed, and until now, his generosity had always worked in her favour. The money he threw her way allowed her to run the clinic how she wanted and the only rule was she had to keep her career first and foremost.
No entanglements. No serious relationships.
Nothing that might pull her off course. Which had been a fine thing when she was twenty-three.
Now at twenty-nine?
“I haven’t forgotten,” she said quietly.
“Good.” He stood and adjusted his coat. “You’re too valuable to get sidetracked. I didn’t invest in you so some man could mess up your path.”
It might already be too late. She offered a polite smile. “You’d be the first to know if I lost my focus.”
Satisfied—or at least pretending to be—he stood and adjusted his jacket. “I won’t keep you. Just wanted to see you.”
“Good to see you, too.” Sydney tucked her hands in the pockets of her scrubs top. If he went by rote, he’d give her a few final bits of advice, then be out the door in under two minutes. Which Sydney was immensely grateful for this visit.
She wasn’t sure how good her poker face was.
He had a hand on the doorknob when he turned back. “One more thing. I know of a doctor who needs a change of scenery. Fully qualified. She’ll be a good fit here. Jeremy’s handling the paperwork. She starts Tuesday.”
Sydney blinked. “You’re adding another doctor?”
“And doubling your salary. It’s overdue.” He didn’t wait for her reaction. “You can put more into investments if you’d like. Jeremy can deal with that if you want, but I didn’t set you up here to suffer for your work. You have an outstanding mind, and you deserve the chance to shine in your career. If right now you feel house visits should be your priority instead of working the clinic, that’s your choice. But progress means not sitting back and letting life happen. Take control. Be in charge.”
Frustration flared. He did this every single time. Told her to be a take-charge and decisive person, and then he waltzed in and took over. Even though the financial freedom he’d given her was a gift beyond measure, the reins were getting tight. “Grandpa, I’m happy with?—”
“No, this isn’t a conversation, it’s a reminder,” he returned. “You’re a brilliant, talented woman who I’ll support to the fullest so that your light never gets dimmed. You deserve the best,” Grandpa Nate said, resting a hand on her shoulder, speaking now like a wise, gentle guide. “That’s why I suggest you shouldn’t get distracted by emotional entanglements. They’ll dim your light faster than anything.”
Sydney nodded, because that was the expected response. Inside, though, something twisted.
Maybe involvement wasn’t a distraction. Maybe it wasconnection.
But she wasn’t ready to argue. Not yet. But the rules? They were already bending.
Grandpa Nate hugged her tightly, and within the two minutes she’d predicted, he was gone.
She shut the door behind him and leaned on it for a long moment, breathing deeply. As she had with increasing frequency over the years, Sydney wondered if her grandfather truly knew what brilliance looked like.
Her grandfather’s words echoed in her ears, but she shoved them aside with effort. It was Monday. There were surfaces to sterilize and lies to tell her best friends.
She was slowly shuffling around the clinic when Petra burst in, holding a box of supplies and wearing a wicked grin.
“Did you tie Declan to the bed?” her best-friend-number-one demanded.
Sydney blinked as the question triggered a flood of vivid mental pictures—all of which involved the delicious cowboy, Declan Skye. Broad shoulders. Firm pecs. Powder-grey eyes that reminded her of storms over the mountains. A mouth that should’ve come with a warning label.
