Single Dad Sheriff (Harlequin American Romance) Read Online Free PDF Page B

she shouted.
    But the older man was already there, grabbing the sheriff’s other arm to help him into the exam room. Ruth stood inside the room; she held a needle in a latex-gloved hand. “Any allergies to antihistamines?”
    â€œI—I don’t know,” he murmured. “I…I didn’t think I was allergic to c-cats…”
    â€œI should take his medical history,” Jessie said, “before you give him anything. I could try to get his records from his attending physician.”
    â€œThere’s no time,” Dr. Malewitz said, his stethoscope pressed against Chance Drayton’s chest. “He’s going to lose his airway.”
    â€œTh-throat’s closing,” Chance choked out between gasps for air.
    Still pressed against his side, Jessie trembled. But then Dr. Malewitz pulled the sheriff away from her and helped him onto the paper-draped exam table. “We’ve got this, Jess…”
    Dismissed, she backed toward the door, her steps slow and heavy with her reluctance to leave. Dr. Malewitz was just a small-town physician. He handled colds, earaches and other viruses. For anything more serious, patients went to the hospitals or specialists in Grand Rapids or Muskegon.
    Bumping into Mrs. Wilson in the doorway to the exam room, she turned to the older woman, dubbed the crazy cat lady by most of Forest Glen. “You should have called an ambulance,” she said.
    â€œFigured it’d be quicker to bring him here. I drove that fancy new police car of his, lights flashing andeverything.” The woman’s eyes glinted with excitement. “I got him here real fast .”
    Jessie glanced back inside the exam room, but Ruth shut the door before she could see more than a glimpse of his bare chest as he dragged off his shirt. Her breath caught with a gasp.
    Hopefully Mrs. Wilson had gotten him there soon enough.
    Â 
    â€œI FEEL LIKE hell,” Chance answered in reply to Jessie Phillips’s question. His throat was sore and scratchy, like his eyes. And his head pounded. “But I could have driven myself home.”
    She laughed. “How? You can barely see.”
    â€œThe swelling’s gone down since the shot,” he replied. But water streamed from his eyes now, probably because of all the cat hair Mrs. Wilson had left on the driver’s seat. He preferred Jessie Phillips behind the wheel; he trusted her more than he had the older woman.
    Not that he had anything against Mrs. Wilson’s age. The woman definitely had all her faculties and then some. When he’d started wheezing in her barn full of cats, she’d responded by driving him immediately to the doctor’s office. She’d just enjoyed that drive a little too much as she’d sped, lights flashing and siren wailing, down the rural roads leading from her farmhouse into town. Remembering how the tires had spun on the gravel, the car fishtailing and nearly careening into the ditch, Chance grimaced. Even without the allergic reaction, he would have had trouble breathing, the way she’d been driving.
    Jessie, on the other hand, drove slowly and carefully, as if she were afraid that any sudden turn might havehim gasping again. “I’m going to be a real cool mom now that I’ve driven the police car,” she pointed out.
    With her red hair bound high in a ponytail, she looked more like a teenager than a mother. And despite working in an office, she’d dressed casually—in jeans and a bright pink sweater that made her look even younger.
    â€œI know what else would make Tommy think you’re a cool mom,” he said.
    The smile left Jessie’s beautiful face as her delicate jaw tensed. “You need to let this drop. It’s not any of your business.”
    â€œTrue,” he admitted. “But will Tommy let it go?”
    â€œHe was fine last night after you left,” she assured him. “And he was his usual happy self this