Letters from a Lonely Mountain Man (Letters in Love #1)

Chapter 1

Bree

“It’s even prettier in person,” I murmur to myself as I survey the grounds.

This place looks like something out of a fairy tale.

At least, the gardens of Wildflower Retirement Community do.

I thought the hospital I was working at had a beautiful courtyard, but it has nothing on this place.

Everything is immaculate, as if the grass itself is carefully trimmed blade by blade.

The sun shines brightly through the trees. The breeze rustles the long grass, and wildflowers in beautiful, blooming colors dot the sidewalk leading up to the retirement community. It’s an amazing place to work, and I’m so excited to join the care team.

When I first started as a nurse, I quickly realized my favorite patients were seniors. After I went back to school to get my degree as a nurse practitioner, I chose to study geriatric medicine with the hopes that I would get to work in a place just like this.

There’s something so cool about getting to hang out with seniors. They’ve watched the world change from decade to decade, and they’re still here. Still proof that no matter what happens, you can survive anything.

I get out of my car, excited about my first day. It’s a little more effort because of the boot that I’m getting used to. It’s on my left foot, which means driving is challenging.

Still, I wasn’t too worried because the roads of Courage County are sparsely traveled.

It’s not like the small town is a bustling metropolis.

I saw ten other cars on the road though I did have to brake for two different tractors.

I thought one was some type of riding lawnmower that had been modified with racing stripes.

It seems I’m pretty far out in the country, and I can’t help but find that exciting. After all this time spent in cities where no one knew my name or cared much about me other than if I showed up for work, I’m looking forward to joining the tight-knit community here.

I don’t just want neighbors. I want to get to know people. I want to be here for them throughout all the seasons of their lives. I want deep friendships and a warm community around me.

The first step toward living that life is starting this new job.

I juggle coffee and donuts as I head up the walk toward the front of the building. But the boot makes navigating everything more difficult. It clunks with each step, and I grit my teeth against a wave of pain.

The orthopedic doctor said that he would re-evaluate it in a few weeks, but he’s pretty sure that nothing is broken. The words “pretty sure” were oddly not that reassuring.

A bumblebee flits into my path, dive-bombing a group of purple flowers by the sidewalk. The beautiful sight of this fat insect collecting pollen completely distracts me.

I lose my careful rhythm in my boot. One minute I’m staring at the bee. The next, the concrete is rushing to meet me.

I throw out my hands with a yelp, my coffee and donut going down onto the ground. I smash into them with a sickening thud.

My hands are scraped and bloody. They sting from tiny abrasions. I swear under my breath as another wave of pain shoots through my leg.

I can’t believe I fell on my first day at work. I mean, I should believe it. I’ve always been a bit clumsy. That’s why I’m in the boot in the first place. I lost a battle with a basket of laundry when I was on my way downstairs at my new apartment here in Courage County.

I manage to scramble into a sitting position just as the door for the retirement community swings open.

A young woman about my age rushes out. She’s dressed in a vintage red dress with white hearts on it. Her hair is in a messy bun with a few flyaway tendrils. She has beautiful shiny patent heels on. She looks like she just stepped out of a 1950s catalog directed at housewives.

Here she is looking so put together, and I’m in a boot on the sidewalk feeling sorry for myself as I mourn the remnants of my smushed donut and lost coffee.

“Oh no,” she exclaims as she rushes toward me. “Are you okay? I was passing through the lobby and saw what happened.”

“I smashed my donut,” I explain, trying to pull the sticky gooey mess from my scrubs. This is not how I envisioned my first day going. I always keep an extra pair of scrubs with me, but I hadn’t imagined using them so early in the day.

“Are you hurt?” the other woman asks. She gestures behind herself toward the building. “I’m Lauren, the receptionist. You must be the new nurse practitioner.”

I hold up my hand to show her my scraped up palm. “I’m Bree, and I’m fine other than some scrapes and my bruised pride.”

“Well, let me help you get in,” she says. “I’ll help you inside, and we can get you settled with a latte from the new espresso machine. How does that sound?” She smiles at me, and I instantly decide that I like her. There’s something warm and kind about Lauren.

She helps me up the steps, allowing me to lean my weight on her until my gait is steady again. As we approach the door, she raps sharply on the glass.

A security guard with a name tag that reads Ryan approaches. He holds open the door briefly, barely sparing a glance before he returns to his desk to continue reading his thriller.

“He’s not the friendliest,” Lauren whispers. She stage-whispers the words a little too loud, but he ignores her if he does hear them.

She leads me to her desk in the lobby where a few seniors are playing a game of checkers and another one is sipping a cup of coffee. The three of them are having an animated argument about the best places to fish around here.

She reaches into the bottom drawer and pulls out a first aid kit. She cleans my hands despite me telling her I can do it, then applies ointment on them. She’s just finished patching me up when the phone on her desk rings.

“Is there somewhere I could get changed?” I ask, gesturing to my messy scrubs.

“Go to the employee lounge. Last door on the right,” she says before she reaches for the phone. She answers the call smoothly like there’s no chaos going on around her.

I take my bag and limp to the employee lounge.

As soon as I step into the lounge, the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. I’m not alone. There’s someone here with me.

I pick up the soft sound of clothes rustling as I round a row of lockers.

I spot the hottest doctor I’ve ever seen.

His back is to me, but even from here, I can see he’s dressed in work boots and light blue scrubs and no shirt.

He’s broad with big shoulders, muscles bunching in his back. He’s huge, easily twice my size.

When I make a squeak, he turns around to face me. Holy pecs, he is built. He looks like he escaped from one of those lumberjack calendars with his hairy chest and damp, golden skin.

I can’t help wondering what it would be like to run my tongue across his abs, circle his belly button, and touch the happy trail disappearing into the top of his pants.

He has strong thighs that lead to a prominent bulge that cannot be hidden.

Heck, his pants look two sizes too small, and all it does is make me tingle all over.

Something flashes in his gaze as awareness arcs between us.

The electricity crackles, heat coiling low in my belly.

I imagine for a moment what it would be like if he pushed me up against this row of lockers and kissed me.

If he caged me in with his strength and glared down at me the way he’s glaring now.

He clears his throat, drawing my attention to his bushy beard. It looks so soft and well kept. I want to pet it. Would that be weird? Definitely weird, I decide.

I give myself a little shake as my brain finally realizes what those blue scrubs mean. He’s not just anybody here in the employee lounge. He’s the doctor. The doctor I’m supposed to be working closely with.

I force myself to paste on a smile that I don’t feel. All I feel is disappointment that I’ll never get to know what that big beard feels like between my thighs.

“I’m thrilled to meet you,” I say.

“Thanks,” he says like it’s a question.

I step forward and hold out my bandaged hand to him. “I’m excited to be working with you.”

He snorts, “I don’t think we’re working on the same team here.”

My smile freezes in place, and I go stone still. My heart rate speeds up as anger floods my veins. Normally, I can hold my tongue and remain professional no matter what the setting is or what’s happening.

But right now, I’m furious. I’m so angry at myself for being so attracted to another guy that’s clearly a jerk. “Don’t be one of those arrogant assholes who think you’re above me. There are no small jobs in medicine. Every single person is a vital part of the care team.”

He says, “You don’t understand–”

I’m not interested in letting him finish whatever lame excuse he was going to offer me.

I put my hands on my hips, ignoring the way it hurts my palms. “I’ve known dozens of doctors like you.

You think just because you’re good looking and went to medical school that you’re the important person in the room. Well, newsflash, you’re not.”

I swear he almost smirks at me as he says, “I never said I was the most important person in the room.”

I glare at him, his amusement only making me angrier. “The patient is always the most important person in the room.”

The smirk on his face finally blossoms into a full on grin. “Well, now that you’ve put me in my place, how about dinner tonight?”

I blink, getting whiplash from his sudden change in topic. I didn’t expect him to ask me out despite the heat between us. Even if we weren’t working together closely, I’m not interested in someone with as much ego as he has. “I don’t go out with people I work with.”

He steps closer, leaning into my space. When he speaks, his breath caresses my face. He smells like mint and pine and earth, like home. “But you’re attracted to me.”

Like the articulate medical professional I am, I snap back, “Am not.”

The door to the employee lounge creaks open and I instantly take a step away from the lumberjack doctor who’s arrogant and climb-him-hot at the same time.

Lauren steps around the lockers and focuses on me. “Are you ready to meet Dr. Banks?”

“I already have.” I glare at the man in front of me.

Lauren frowns. “He’s not the doctor.”

I turn my gaze back to the arrogant man who had the audacity to think he was so much better than me. “Wait, you’re not the doctor?”

“Afraid not,” the man answers. He leans close again, pausing to whisper in my ear, “But you’re still attracted to me.”

I’m building a great defense. It starts with a loud inhale, but he’s gone before I can figure out exactly what the defense was. I watch him go, staring after the wild lumberjack who just put lava in my veins with one look. He’s not the doctor.