Chapter One

“The question is,” Claire Lowell murmured to herself, the way she always did when feeling like there would never be enough hours in her day to accomplish what she should, “do I have time to swing by the express lane and pick up our groceries, or not?”

“I don’t know,” a sexy masculine voice said from behind her. “Do you?”

Senses tingling, Claire swung around and found herself face-to-face with Zach McCabe, Laramie Community Hospital’s most eligible bachelor. And for very good reason. Not only was he a very gifted and compassionate pediatrician, he was handsome enough to be dubbed…behind the scenes, anyway…their very own Prince Charming.

“Zach!” Her breath caught in her chest the way it always did when he came near.

His broad-shouldered, six-foot-four-inch frame blocked out the late afternoon sun. Mischief filled his smoky blue eyes. The warm spring breeze wafted over them, mussing his dark brown hair. He came even closer, inundating her with his brisk sandalwood-and-moss scent. “Claire…”

His teasing smile accelerated her pulse even more. But she reminded herself she wasn’t interested in him, or any other man for that matter, right now. Not when she already had so much going on in her life. Her body warming everywhere his playful gaze touched, she lifted her chin. “I didn’t realize you were there!”

He shrugged. “No surprise, given how fast you were racing across the physicians’ parking lot.”

Unable to help herself, she felt her eyes irresistibly drawn to the way his pale blue dress shirt clung to his taut abs and muscular chest. It was crazy, how effortlessly he exuded physicality and strength. Even crazier, how much the reckless, romantic side of her wanted to explore just that.

Reminded the triplets’ part-time nanny would be leaving in twenty-five minutes, Claire spun around and continued striding in the direction of her vehicle. Leaving him to follow at will. “Fun as this has been, doc, I’ve got to cut it short. I’m in a hurry.”

Zach fell into step beside her. “To get your groceries.”

“Yes, so…”

With strides two times the length of hers, he languidly kept pace. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you.”

Trying not to feel disappointed that the only reason he had apparently chased her down was for work, Claire nodded. “I know about the messages.” If she’d had even a second to spare, she would have already phoned him. Reaching the Honda Civic, she stopped and swung back to face him. “Actually, you’re at the top of my list of people to call back this evening.”

He nodded. Looking happy—yet not. He leaned closer, bartering, “It would be better if we could meet in person.”

Taking a deep breath, she found herself focusing on the vivid bear-and-moose print on his necktie. She was sure that had to be a hit with the kids he cared for. Glancing up, she met his gaze again. “We’re talking a consult?”

The brackets around his mouth deepened. “At least forty-five minutes.”

Claire hit the unlock feature on her keypad, opened the driver door and tossed her bag in on the opposite seat. “Then it will have to be later in the week.”

“Hate to be a pest, but this consult really can’t wait. And since you are the best cardiologist in the area…”

So everyone said. Which was great. Except when that took her away from her three kids…

Zach exhaled, worry permeating his expression. “Listen. I know how busy you are, Claire. I wouldn’t press you if it weren’t important.”

Claire knew that to be true. Zach was a compassionate guy, considerate of the situations of others. And renowned for a generous nature that went well beyond his duty to his patients. He was always rushing in to rescue someone from something. Then ducking out as soon as the problem was solved to go on to the next person in distress. So quickly, in fact, that she sometimes wondered what he was running from.

Deciding the grocery pickup was going to have to wait until she could load the triplets in the car, and take them with her to the store, she asked, “How old is the patient?”

“Five.”

Such a cute and vulnerable age. Old enough to communicate symptoms yet not mature enough to understand complex medical issues. Especially those of a serious nature. “And you think it’s the heart?”

Zach paused. Unsure enough to admit, “I think we definitely need to rule it out…if it’s not.”

Claire liked the fact he didn’t have an ego that made him pretend to always have all the answers. The way some specialists did. She guessed where this was going. “And fix it if it is cardiac related.”

“Right.”

Well, now she was hooked, too. As she was, every time she came across a patient in need. Especially a kid…

Squaring her shoulders, she returned her gaze to Zach’s. Once again, wishing his eyes weren’t such a devastating gray-blue. Swallowing around the parched feeling in her throat, she pushed on. “We can get together if you want this evening, but I don’t have childcare past five thirty, so it will have to be at my home. After my kids are asleep.” Claire calculated errand, dinner, bath and bedtime, then added thirty minutes for good measure. “Is eight o’clock okay?”

Zach flashed another sexy smile. Looking relieved—and relaxed—in a way she suddenly was not. “Sounds good. In the meantime, if you need me to swing by the market and pick up those groceries you were talking about, I would be happy to help out.”

Was she about to be added to his damsel in distress list? Claire sincerely hoped not! He was way too tempting as it was. “Thanks. But…” The last thing she needed to do was lean on any man. Especially after her last relationship had ended so disastrously. Her hard-won independence kicking in, she adapted a confident stance. “I’ve got it.”

He accepted her refusal with the graciousness the Texas McCabes were known for. Then continued, with a curious lift of his brow as he surveyed the vehicle she was about to get into. “Interesting ride.”

And not exactly her style, Claire thought, with the beautifully painted-on landscapes adorning the hood, side panels and trunk. “It belongs to my nanny. She’s got my SUV.” At Zach’s puzzled look, she explained, “Three car seats wouldn’t fit in this. Bette and I switch during the days so she can drive the triplets around in my SUV. And I take this to the hospital and anywhere else I have to go to see patients.”

Zach surveyed the artistically decorated car panels again. “Makes sense.”

Claire slid behind the wheel, glad for the distance between them as she slid the key into the ignition. “Any more questions?” She hoped not, because she really had to run.

He moved away from the vehicle. “Nope.”

Claire started the engine and put down the window. “Then I’ll see you in a few hours,” she said with a small wave before driving away.

*

Zach parked in front of Claire’s home, a few minutes before eight.

The two-story Craftsman bungalow in the heart of the town’s residential section was what he expected. Glancing up, he appreciated how the exterior was painted a soothing sage green. The beautiful handcrafted wood door had a transom on either side, and the porch was filled with comfy cushioned wicker furniture that matched the home’s snowy white trim. He noted that the thick green grass was neatly cut—probably by a landscaping service—although the generous landscape beds in front were surprisingly empty. A luxury white SUV sat in the drive, in front of the detached garage.

Briefly, a wave of wistfulness swept through him.

Five years ago, he had expected to be living in a place just like this, with the woman he loved, and a couple of babies by now.

But that hadn’t happened. He had made a terrible mistake, and lost his chance to have his happily ever after. And now, well, his life was about work, work and more work. And most days, he was happy to have it that way.

As far as Claire Lowell went, he mused, as he headed up the front porch steps, it sounded like she had her hands as full as she had indicated. Of wild children and a barking dog.

Wondering if she were going to be receptive to his presence after all, he rang the doorbell.

The whooping and hollering on the other side increased.

Then stopped completely as the front door was yanked open by a pajama-clad little boy of preschool age. His short blond hair was still wet, smelling of shampoo, and sticking up all over. The tyke’s inquisitive green eyes surveyed Zach from head to toe, and back again. “Who are you?” he demanded, with an irritated frown.

A more important question was, where the hell was Claire?

A big, black Newfoundland skidded to a stop next to the boy, and sized up Zach. Deciding he was friend, not foe, the dog immediately began wagging his tail. Zach reached out to pet the top of the pet’s silky black head while still addressing the suspiciously glaring, pint-sized sentry. “I’m Zach, a friend of your mom’s.”

“She’s busy. She can’t talk now,” he retorted, narrowing his eyes even more.

Zach nodded, but before the door could be slammed in his face, he asked, “And what is your name?”

For a second, Zach thought the little ruffian wasn’t going to answer, then he said, “Oliver.”

“How old are you, Oliver?”

“Three and a half!”

“And who is this?” Zach inclined his head at their pet, and grinned as the Newfie cuddled even closer against him.

Oliver affectionately stroked the Newfie’s coat. “This is Lucky. He is our dog!”

Another boy sidled up to join them. He looked ready for bed, too, but his just-shampooed hair, which was several shades darker than his brother’s, was neatly combed to one side. His green eyes were analytical and considerably friendlier. “I’m Andrew.” He stuck out his hand.

Zach gave it a formal shake. “Nice to meet you, Andrew. And Oliver.”

A third child joined them, this one a girl, who was the spitting image of her mom. Her dark curls were cut in a chin-length bob that framed her piquant face. Zach couldn’t help noticing her cheeks were pink. Upon further inspection, he saw she had tears drying on her face, a stormy look in her green eyes.

“This is Isabella,” Oliver announced. “She is our sister!”

“She’s mad at us,” Andrew said, looking more accepting than perturbed about that

“I want my baby doll back!” Isabella shouted, the strength of her lungs at odds with her dainty appearance.

Claire chose that moment to appear in the foyer. She put both hands on her hips. “Boys…give it back to her.”

“We don’t have it,” Andrew said in a way that made Zach suspect his assertion was technically true.

Lucky sized up the scene and exited, heading for the rear of the home.

Claire’s brow lifted. “But you know where Baby Doll is…” she presumed. “And I want you to go get her…as well as Giraffe and Zebra…so I can tuck you all in.”

Both boys sighed loudly and slowly started moving in the direction that the Newfie had gone. Before they’d taken half a dozen steps, their big black dog was back, carrying a doll in his mouth. He brought it over to Isabella and set it down very gently next to her.

Isabella let out a cry that was part triumph and part aggravation. Snatching it up, she clutched it to her chest. “Thank you, Lucky!” she sobbed.

Claire looked at Zach over her children’s heads. Wincing, he wondered if this was what her evenings were like. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back as soon as possible,” she said.

*

“You picked up all the toys?” Claire stood in the doorway, her low voice reverberating with shock.

Wondering why she sounded like he had done something wrong, Zach turned away from the last plastic bin of building blocks. It had ended up taking a good twenty minutes for her to put the kids to bed. He had tried sitting on the sofa, but the living room slash kids’ play area had been quite a mess.

Not Claire, though.

Even in a loose-fitting, white cotton tunic and faded skinny jeans, she looked absolutely gorgeous. Silky black curls fell just beneath her jaw, framing the elegant features of her face. Her bow-shaped lips were soft and luscious. His eyes drifting up, he noted her long-lashed emerald-green eyes were still wide with surprise. And glimmering with something else, an emotion not quite as welcoming.

Unsure if he’d made a mistake or not, Zach shrugged. And then did what he almost never did—he explained his behavior. The why behind his actions.

“I’ve always had a hard time doing nothing. Especially when there is work…even housework…to be done.”

Claire stepped toward him, sizing him up all the while. “I can see that about you.” She smiled.

Zach hoped that meant he was forgiven for tidying up without asking permission.

She came even closer, enveloping him with her delicate, feminine scent. And something else a lot more familiar. Baby shampoo, he decided. “Does it have anything to do with your mom being a social worker?” she asked.

“That, and the fact I have a CEO dad, three quadruplet brothers and a sister. The only way our family survived day to day was if everyone pitched in.”

“Well, thanks for straightening this room.” Claire folded a throw and put it neatly over the back of the sofa. “I intended to have that done by the time you arrived tonight. But the triplets had other plans.” She sighed. “They always do.”

Zach knew from the talk around the hospital Claire was a single mom who spent all her free time with her kids. Little else. “What about their dad?”

“He’s not in the picture. Never has been.”

Then her ex was really missing out. Her kids were adorable. Cute, smart and lively. If they had been his he would have been like Claire, with them every spare moment.

He compressed his lips. “Sorry,” he sympathized.

Avoiding his eyes, she offered another shrug of her slender shoulders. “It is the way it is.”

And she clearly didn’t want to talk about why. He could understand that; he didn’t like to discuss his own unexpectedly crushed dreams, or late fiancée, either.

Sometimes life just sucked.

“Do you have other family nearby?” he asked gently.

“My sister Gwen and her husband Patrick and their three kids live in Dallas.”

Which was a good three-hour drive away. “But no one here in Laramie?”

She shook her head and took a seat in the wing chair, adjacent to the sofa. “So about this patient you wanted my help with…?” she prodded, apparently done talking about her personal life.

“Right.” Zach sat on the sofa kitty-corner from her and opened up the file he had brought with him. “Her name is Sasha. Her mom is Harriett Donnelly.”

She paused. “One of the hospital dietitians…?”

“Yes. For the last few weeks, Sasha has been having what sound like heart palpitations, and or arrhythmias, in conjunction with periods of wild hyperactivity. Usually in the evenings, after dinner, as bedtime approaches.”

Claire frowned. “I can identify with the antics. That is pretty common when kids are overtired at the end of the day. Why does her mom think she’s having palpitations?”

“Couple of things. When Sasha makes the complaint, she stops what she is doing. Usually very abruptly. She says she has butterflies inside her chest. Or sometimes something pushing on her sternum. Harriett’s taken her pulse when that happens. Sometimes it is steady and fast but otherwise normal. Other times, it will appear to be skipping a beat, here and there, before going back into normal sinus rhythm.”

Her brows knitting together, she looked at Zach. “How long do these episodes last?”

“According to Harriett, half an hour or so.”

She pressed her lips together. “Any other symptoms?”

“Not so far.”

Claire’s frown deepened. “Any congenital heart condition?”

“No. Sasha’s been completely healthy up to now. But she fainted today at recess while she was running around the playground. By the time the paramedics got there a few minutes later, she had already come to.”

She crossed one slender leg over the other, her foot swinging back and forth. “Any arrhythmia then?”

“When EMS checked, her heart rate was normal.”

“But you’re still thinking heart,” Claire guessed.

Drawing his attention away from her long, sexy legs, Zach nodded. At this point, it was just an instinct. That Sasha’s difficulties stemmed from some sort of currently undiagnosed cardiac issue. But his intuition was usually right in cases like this.

“Family history?”

“Still working on getting that,” he answered.

She raked her teeth across her lower lip. “Well, let’s see what we do have so far.”

They spent the next half hour going over Sasha’s medical records, from her premature birth and four-week stay in the N-ICU on. “Everything looks normal,” Claire concluded finally. “But that doesn’t mean a latent cardiac issue isn’t there.”

Zach relaxed in relief, glad they were of the same mindset, even though as yet there wasn’t much to go on. “What do you suggest?” he said.

“Have Harriett call my office first thing tomorrow and make an appointment to bring Sasha in. We’ll do an EKG, get another complete family medical history—in case something was accidentally omitted—and put a heart monitor on her for the next seven days. That way, if there is an intermittent arrhythmia we will have a record of it. And, of course, if she faints again or has more palpitations, you should call me immediately.”

“Thank you.”

“Glad to help.” She rose to show him out, moving gracefully across the living room. “Sorry you had such a hard time getting ahold of me today.”

Tearing his eyes from the gentle sway of her hips, he pushed the desire away, reminding himself they were work colleagues. That was all.

“No worries. It all worked out in the end.”

They headed for the foyer. Claire opened the front door, but instead of ushering him out and saying good-night, as he expected, she crossed the threshold with him.

Wondering if she’d felt the same unexpected flash of chemistry he just had, Zach grinned. Unable to help himself, teased drolly, “Walking me out? Cause I think I can find my way to my pickup truck from here.”

“Cute, but no,” she scoffed.

Claire fished in the pocket of her skinny jeans and pulled out the keypad for her SUV. “I’m finishing my chores.” She skipped down the steps of her Craftsman, the denim lovingly skimming her long legs as she moved. “I didn’t get all the groceries in earlier. Only the refrigerator stuff.”

Sure enough, there were half a dozen bags inside the cargo area. Which meant he was most likely the only one feeling an attraction. Telling himself that was definitely for the best, given their very demanding lives, he offered gallantly, “Need some help?”

Something—surprise maybe—flared in her green eyes as she opened the tailgate. She turned her attention to the task at hand. “Thanks…but you don’t have to do that.”

Except for some reason he really wanted to. “Consider it a quid pro quo. You helped me. Now, I’ll help you.”

She drew in a breath. “Not quite the same thing. But okay.” She gestured indifferently. “If you want to carry a bag or two…”

They each took two bags, then brought them into her kitchen and set them down on the island. When she would have gone back for another load, he laid a hand on her arm. “Let me do the heavy lifting while you concentrate on unpacking and putting things away.”

A flicker of irritation swept her pretty features.

The kind that told him she wasn’t used to accepting a man’s help. Because of whatever had gone on with her ex?

She planted her hands on her hips. The action brought her loose-fitting tunic snugly across the soft swell of her breasts and the enticing slenderness of her waist.

His body reacted.

“Bossy, aren’t you?”

Although her attitude was sassy, he noticed she wasn’t actually arguing or telling him to get lost. Maybe because she was suddenly looking really tired around the eyes. Abruptly, it was all he could do not to take her in his arms and offer the comfort he sensed she needed, but wouldn’t accept.

“When it comes to situations like this, you have no idea,” he drawled.

It was exactly how he ended up getting platonically involved with one woman who needed help after another.

Which gave Claire just the opening she needed.

“Oh, I’m aware of your reputation as the local Sir Galahad,” she murmured cheekily.

“You are…?” He had gotten the impression she could have cared less about the repute of any of the single men in her orbit. As long as they stayed out of her way, that was.

“Oh, yeah…” Grinning, she took him by the arm and pointed him toward the front door. “Which is exactly why you should save your ‘assistance’ for someone who needs it and mosey on home,” she said.