Page 2 of Texas Daze (Texas Montgomery Mavericks)

Marti sighed and pounded the back of her head on the pillow behind her. “I hatedoctors.”

“I know,” her mother said. “But I don’t think we have achoice.”

Marti held out her hand. “Fine. Fine. Hand me myphone.”

Her mother give her a sideway look and chuckled. “No way, honey. I know you. You’ll put off the appointment as long as possible. I’ll makethecall.”

Marti swallowed a couple of acetaminophens and gave up the fight. She knew when shewasbeat.

To no one’s surprise, her mother pulled strings and got Marti an appointment at Riverside Orthopedic clinic for that afternoon. The last time Marti had gone out with the girls, she’d heard about a hot new doctor at the clinic. Couldn’t remember the name. Didn’t really matter anyway. She’d probably end up with the physicianassistant.

After some fast talking, she convinced her parents that she could drive herself since it was her left leg that had the sprain. Her right was perfectly fine to push the brake and gaspedals.

At four o’clock, she parked outside a three-story building. She opted to leave her grandfather’s cane in the car. She didn’t want to even suggest she was injured. A mistake on her part. Walking without the cane was excruciating. By the time she made it into the building, up one floor to the medical clinic, and was standing in front of the receptionist, her head and jaw ached from teeth clenching. She lacked the words to describe the pain in her leg but fucking hell seemedappropriate.

After completing paperwork and waiting twenty minutes, she was taken to an x-ray room. She was pretty sure the young technician was a sadist. That could be the only rationale for how many times and ways her foot and ankle were positioned forpictures.

Finally, she was allowed to limp down a hall and into an exam room. She collapsed into chair, her legthrobbing.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said the nurse, who looked about twelve-years-old. “I should have told you to have a seat on thetable.”

Long sigh, and then Marti transferred to thetable.

“Excellent,” the child-nurse said. “Dr. Boone will be in in just aminute.”

The door closed and Marti sagged against the wall. She suspected her sprained ankle might be a little worse than she wanted toadmit.

Dr. Boone? Was that the name Delene had said? Maybe, but she’d been a few beers in and it could have been Johnson for all sheremembered.

She waited what seemed like forever, but was probably about five minutes, before a tall, dark-haired man stepped into the room, his long white lab coat flapping around hisknees.

“Sorry for the wait,” he said. He held out a hand which Marti grasped. “I’m EliasBoone.”

“MartiJenkins.”

And this had to be the good-looking doctor Delene was gushing about because holy moly, he was gorgeous. Dark-haired. Chocolate eyes that made her melt. Broad shoulders that stretched his white doctor coat tight. Totallyyummy.

He rolled a stool over and sat. “So, Ms. Jenkins, how long have you been walking around on thisankle?”

She shut her eyes with a shake of her head, embarrassed to admit how stubborn she’d been. “Fourdays.”

“Well, that must have been painful,” he said. “Let’s take a look, shall we?” He rolled the stool backwards to a computer hanging on the wall, tapped in his user name and password and pulled up the digital x-rays of her foot. One key stroke and the picture flashed on the wall monitor. He pointed to her ankle. “See right here?” She leaned closer but it looked exactly like the skeleton she’d played with in high school. “That’s yourankle.”

“Is it broken?” she asked with awince.

“Today’s your lucky day. It doesn’t appear to be. If it is, it’s only a small crack, small enough that we can’tseeit.”

“So what you’re telling me is that I just have a sprainedankle.”

He smiled, and she felt as though she’d been hit upside the head. That smile should carry a warning. “I wouldn’t say just a sprained ankle. You have what’s known as a Grade 2 anklesprain.”

“English, Dr.Boone.”

“It’s a partial tear in your calcaneofibularligament.”

“Yikes, if that’s English, then let’s tryFrench.”

He laughed and a small area behind her navel tugged. “Sorry. You do have a partially torn ligament. With an ankle sprain, the ligaments are stretched when the person falls, or twists the foot. Sometimes, the ligaments can be stretched to the point they tear a little or even tear in half. In your case, you have a small tear. That must have been quite a twist of your foot. If I understand the story correctly, you were in a fight with arattlesnake?”

---