Saving Dr. Ryan by Karen Templeton Read Free Book Online

tossed his brother a glance as he rifled through a pile of clothes on an ugly upholstered chair, looking for something. “I asked. She said three weeks yet.”
    Lord. Hank had probably frightened her into labor. “The baby had other ideas.”
    Hank found what he was looking for—a belt—and threaded it through his jeans. “How’d she find you?” He dug in his pocket for a stick of gum, a habit taken up after Ryan finally convinced him to give up smoking. The wrapper drifted to the floor after he poked the gum into his mouth.
    â€œI have no idea. She and the kids just showed up.”
    â€œHuh. You take her to the hospital?”
    â€œI was doing well to get in position in time to catch the baby. That’s why I’m here. To get their things.”
    Hank nodded, snatching a spare set of keys off a hook by his door. He grabbed a leather jacket from the back of a dinette chair and opened the door to the biting cold.
    They walked the short distance in silence, gravel crunching underfoot, their breath frosted in front of their faces. Hands rammed in his pockets, Ryan glanced around. You couldn’t exactly say Hank’d been singlehandedly restoring the place to its former glory, since that was a word one would never have associated with the Double Arrow, even in its heyday. But he was definitely restoring it, shingle by shingle. A dozen single-room units out front, a half dozen two- and three-room cottages down by what the previous owners generously called a “lake.” The single rooms were pretty much done; Ryan imagined it would take another year, maybe two, before the cottages were ready for occupants. At least, the two-footed variety.
    It was a pretty spot, actually, especially this time of year with the ashes and maples doing their fall color thing. With a little effort—okay, a lot of effort—Hank could turn the motel into someplace folks might actually want to stay.
    The scrape of a key in a lock caught Ryan’s attention; they stepped inside Unit 12, Ryan breathing a silent sigh of relief that the room seemed—and smelled—clean. A little strong on the Pine-Sol, but that was okay. Calling the county health authorities on his own brother wasn’t high on his list. Especially as Hank could still probably beat the crap out of him, if he had a mind to.
    The twin beds were both undone, a denim jumper and blouse neatly laid across the back of the desk chair. One suitcase was open on the metal-and-strap rack, the contents still more or less intact. Ryan quickly gathered the few stray items, including a plastic soap case and toothbrush from the bathroom sink, haphazardly folding the clothing before stuffing everything into the open case, then clicking it shut. Even without really looking, though, he could tell the clothes were worn and faded. For a woman with such intense pride, her predicament must be eating her alive.
    Ryan hauled the cases out to the truck, Hank meanderingwordlessly behind. To tell the truth, none of the brothers had much to say to each other anymore. Which was a shame, he supposed, since they’d been close as kids, even though they’d tormented each other like any normal siblings.
    Hank stood with his arms crossed, the stiff breeze messing with his hair. “Now what do you suppose makes a woman that pregnant up and leave wherever she was?”
    Ryan settled the cases in the truck bed, turned back to his brother. Little had caught Hank’s interest since his return, other than this rat-trap. But damned if Ryan didn’t catch a whiff of genuine intrigue about Maddie Kincaid.
    â€œDesperation,” he said simply. “Husband’s dead, she’s got no money from what I can tell. And her only living relative is here.”
    â€œYeah? Who?”
    â€œNed.”
    Black brows shot straight up. “McAllister?”
    â€œYep.”
    â€œDamn. She really is havin’ a bad string of luck, isn’t