My True Cowboy Read Online Free PDF Page A

cure.
    And now Susan was making him feel that same odd combination of irritation and desire.
    He didn’t appreciate it. He had a million other things on his mind, the most important of which was lying in one of the rooms on the third floor.
    So how come he’d been finding ways to sneak glances at the way her hips curved out in a completely feminine, pleasing way? How come he was noticing the way the ivory skin of her neck contrasted so well with the dark auburn hair floating halfway down her back? How come he was kind of hoping she’d smile again his way?
    He scrambled for something to say. “So…are you planning to stay here for a while?”
    â€œI hope so. I just got the job.”
    â€œNo. I mean here at the hospital.”
    â€œHere? Oh, no. We really need to get a handle on this diabetes stuff so I can get back to work.”
    â€œDiabetes?” Cal struggled to recall what he knew about the disease, to show that he wasn’t completely self-centered. “Isn’t your boy kind of young for that?”
    â€œIt’s type 1. You know, juvenile diabetes.” When he couldn’t help but stare at her blankly, she added, “It does hit juveniles, you know. He’s young enough for that.”
    Cal tried to recall some article he’d read in the dentist’s waiting room. “Don’t you get diabetes from a poor diet or something? You know, you probably shouldn’t be letting him eat hot dogs.”
    In an instant, all traces of friendliness vanished. Pure loathing lashed out at him. “For your information, Mr. Riddell, type 1 diabetes is an autoimmune disease. You can’t ‘get it’ from hot dogs.”
    Crap. “Oh. I’m—”
    â€œWhat? You’re a genius at diseases because you’re standing in a hospital?” she interrupted. “You know what?I think I liked you better when you stuck to one-word answers.”
    Cal almost tried to explain himself again, but he felt like a fool. And he really hated feeling like a fool.
    Instead, he opted for just standing there as she sashayed down the hall, pushed the elevator button and waited for the doors to open.
    And waited.
    As she stood and fumed—and as he watched her fume—Cal knew he should do something. The right thing to do would be to go up to her and apologize. Again. No woman wanted to hear anything bad about her mothering skills.
    But memories of getting burned ran deep. Long ago, Christy had made such a laughingstock out of him that he’d quit the rodeo circuit.
    For months, all everyone and their brother talked about was how he’d been whipped well and good by a tiny gal from Texarkana.
    So self-preservation kicked in. The better thing to do was to keep himself still. Distant. Then he wouldn’t get hurt.
    He didn’t move a muscle until those elevator doors closed behind her.

Chapter Three
    Hours later, back at the ranch, all hell was breaking loose.
    â€œCal, where’ve you been?” Ginny cried the moment he walked in through the front door, her face streaked with tears and chocolate.
    He grunted as she strung two arms around him, getting his starched shirt smeared with streaks of brown goo. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, giving in to the inevitable. “I’ve been at the hospital helping Dad,” he said soothingly. “You know that.”
    â€œI tr-tried to call you. You didn’t pick up.”
    He patted her some more. “That’s ’cause you’ve got to turn off your cell phones in the hospital. What’s wrong? Did you get in a fight again?” His scrappy sister couldn’t seem to regulate her temper. Time and again, in true Riddell fashion, she let her emotions get the best of her, much to her teacher’s dismay.
    â€œNo.” She dug in her head, plastering her cheek against his belly. As always, a deep, all-encompassing love filled him for the girl. His little slip of a