Page 1 of Rescuing Dr. Marian (Made Marian Legacy #1)

FOSTER

The emergency call came in just as I was locking up the sheriff’s office for a long-awaited vacation.

Three hours later, I was rappelling down a cliff face to extract a photographer who’d gotten a little too creative with his angle shots.

Three hours after that, we’d gotten him to safety, but I’d missed my flight to Hawaii and spent five hours driving through a blizzard to catch the next one.

And eight hours after that , I’d made my final connection by the skin of my teeth, but my luggage had not.

So by the time my seatmate sloshed her vodka cranberry all over my chest, it was safe to say I’d lost whatever patience I might have had at the start of my hellish, never-ending day.

Fate was seriously fucking with me.

“And the wors’ part is, I never saw it coming,” the woman slurred, still waving her cup as she spoke, seemingly unaware it was now empty. “But then, I guess no one ever does. I thought he was The One. I thought he and I were the real thing. Like… like daisies in sunshine. Like kit… kin… kinsmin .”

“Kismet,” a low, aggrieved voice muttered from the row behind us. “You mean kismet .”

I covered my snort with a cough. The guy in 9A had started correcting Miss Daisies and Sunshine’s drunken mispronunciations under his breath, but the longer her drama went on, the less he seemed to hold back his commentary.

At this point, his comments were the only thing keeping me sane.

“Did you say something?” she asked, squinting at me.

I thumbed over my shoulder. “I think he said ‘ Kleenex .’ Speaking of which, do you have any tissues in your bag?” I gestured from the bulging carryall at her feet to the remains of her vodka cranberry trickling down my chest. “I could use one.”

“Don’t think so.” She wrinkled her nose. “Oh, gosh, you spilled your drink!”

I sucked in a breath. “ I didn’t—” A travel pack of tissues suddenly appeared between us with a little waggle, and I glanced through the darkened gap between the seats to see a deep hazel eye smiling back at me.

Mr. 9A to the rescue.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Don’t mention it.”

While I dabbed at my ruined shirt, Miss Daisies and Sunshine kept talking, ensuring everyone around us knew way more than we’d ever wanted or needed to know about the “cheating ass” who “din’ deserve my love.”

“And the wors’ part is,” she wailed, “I never saw it com?— ”

I jumped in to prevent her from starting again at the beginning. “Look, I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but you’ll move on from this. I dated a cheating ass once, too.”

“Yeah?”

“ Matthew-don’t-call-me-Matt .” I rolled my eyes. “High-maintenance, persistent, terrible at karaoke, regrettably bad at monogamy. It sucked at the time, but I learned a lot of lessons about what I want in a partner. And the man had good taste in resorts,” I added. “Hence my trip to Kauai.”

She scrunched up her face. “Yer ex is gunna be here, too?”

“Oh, god no. The opposite. I ditched my ex, but I still love Hawaii, and the only time it’s safe for me to visit is over New Year’s. Matthew hasn’t missed a ball drop in decades.”

“Is that like…” Daisy Sunshine lowered her voice, but not by much. “…a gay thing?”

Mr. 9A snickered.

I pressed my lips together to keep from barking out a laugh. “Uh. No. It’s…” I pondered this. “Well, come to think of it, there are a few gay men involved in that particular event.”

This time, 9A snort-choked so loudly the woman beside him asked if he was okay.

Mercifully, the plane touched down at that exact moment.

“Know whut? I’m gunna take yer advice,” Daisy announced as the people at the front of the plane began grabbing their things. “I’m gunna get a new man. I’m gunna find real love. Like poetry. Like Shakesgere.” She frowned. “Shakes… Gere?”

“Shakes p eare,” came from behind us. “For god’s sake.”

“Brother to Richard. Obvs,” I added, turning to grin between the seats at the man who’d saved my mood if not my shirt.

He was clean-cut, with neatly trimmed light-brown hair, bright hazel eyes, and a knowing grin that made my stomach do something interesting.

I also noticed the equally attractive woman next to him, scrolling through her phone, and realized they were probably together.

Figured .

All the best ones were taken these days. All of my friends back in Wyoming had recently paired up, too, leaving me the sole, glaringly single target of my mother’s matchmaking ways.

Hence, my hookup vacation in Hawaii. No mother. No snow. No work. Only me, the sun, umbrella drinks, and a plentiful Grindr app for the next ten days. Ringing in the New Year right.

Daisy turned around and beamed at 9A. “You know him? The poet?”

He bit his lip and nodded, eyes dancing as he glanced at me, inviting me to share the joke. “I know him well. Spent way too much time with him in high school, actually. Wordy fucker.”

The seat belt sign dinged off, so Daisy turned and knelt up onto her seat to face him. She gasped. “Hey, wait, you’re the guy from that commercial! With the dog and the thing!”

“Sorry, no. I?—”

“You are!” Daisy argued, loudly enough to get the attention of all the passengers who were trying to collect their bags and deplane.

The woman sitting with him looked up from her phone and shot him a teasing look. “I assure you, he’s not that interesting. He’s a physician in Manhattan. Bor-ring .”

The playful sarcasm in her voice suggested they knew each other well, and the way he rolled his eyes confirmed it.

Daisy set her jaw. “Be that as it mayyyyy,” she said. “He’s also in that commercial with the dog and the thing!”

A man craned his head around the people in the aisle to take a look at the handsome doctor like he was a bug under a magnifying glass. “You do look a little like him.”

Another lady shook her head. “Too squinchy in the eyes. It’s not him.”

Someone behind us called impatiently, “Can we go, please? There’s a fruity drink with my name on it somewhere.”

Daisy pouted. “But I want an autograph and picture.”

The crowd around us began to argue, some trying to get closer to the doctor to get a better look, a few saying they wanted an autograph and picture also, most just hoping to get off the damned plane.

The doctor blushed fiercely.

Suddenly, I had an idea. “Oh, I know exactly who you mean now,” I told Daisy. “Wade, uh… Brown. Wade Brown. Yeah. But he died.”

“What?” Her eyes went huge.

“Mmmm,” I said solemnly. “Tragic. Even Kevin Bacon posted about it. They’d worked together a bunch. He played his guitar in a tribute song for the guy on social media.” I laid a hand over my heart and cast my eyes to the ceiling of the airplane. “RIP, Wade.”

“Ohmigosh! Now that you mention it, I think I did see Kevin playing his guitar!” Daisy exclaimed. She turned to the doctor. “Sorry, bro. ’S too bad you didn’t do the thing with the dog, though.”

Others nodded and murmured, agreeing that it was sad for such a good actor to be cut down in his prime… and that this random guy on the airplane wasn’t semi-famous.

The doctor shot me a look of incredulity and mouthed, “Thank you.”

I winked back at him.

“So anyway,” I said to the rest of the people around us, nodding and stepping out into the aisle before nudging others forward. “We’ll all drink one to Wade tonight. I know I’m gonna.”

“To Wade!” everyone added.

I didn’t bother waiting for my bag since I already knew it hadn’t made the connection. After filing an official lost-bag claim, I grabbed the first taxi to the resort and charmed the front desk lady into an oceanfront room, a toiletry kit, and a drink voucher.

The warm tropical air was a relief after the harsh Wyoming winter I’d left behind. I took a moment to breathe it in as I made my way out to the cabana bar by the pool. The rhythmic sound of the waves was soothing as I approached the bartender.

“Plate of whatever appetizers you have and a Double Old Fashioned, please,” I murmured to the guy before scoping out a small table at the edge of the area where I could look out at the ocean.

As soon as the drink was in my hand, I wandered over and sat down, enjoying the smoky citrus taste of the first sip.

Now, this was more like it. Warm, salty air. Quality bourbon. Nowhere to be. Zero chance of a midnight call to a snowy accident on the highway.

“Mind if I join you?”

I looked up to see the handsome doctor from the plane standing beside my table with a slight smile. My stomach did that funny little thing again.

“Please,” I gestured to the empty chair across from me. “I owe you a thank-you for the tissues and your sense of humor. And for not blowing my cover story about poor, departed Wade Brown.”

He chuckled as he sat down. “As far as I’m concerned, you rescued me . That was quick thinking. I must look an awful lot like that guy, if she was that insistent.”

“I have no idea who she was talking about, so I made up a name,” I admitted with a laugh.

“Well, here’s to my doppelg?nger, the late, great, fictional Wade Brown,” he said, raising his glass. “May he rest in peace.”

I clinked my glass against his. “To Wade.” I took a sip and then licked my lips. “You here alone? Where’s your… friend?”

He smiled. “My cousin Ella. She had some work to catch up on.” He reached out a hand to shake. “I’m Tommy, by the way. Tommy Marian. Boring doctor from Manhattan. Apparently.”

“Foster Blake,” I replied, enjoying the warm clasp of his hand in mine. “Boring sheriff of Majestic, Wyoming, currently on a much-needed vacation.”

Tommy’s eyes widened slightly. “Sheriff? That’s not boring at all.”

“You’d be surprised. It’s a small town. Most of my job involves breaking up bar fights and rescuing lost hikers. It’s nothing like what you do.”

He shook his head. “Rescuing people is important work, whether it’s on the trail or in the hospital.”

The bartender brought my appetizer plate and set it between us. “Help yourself,” I offered, and Tommy eagerly reached for a pita wedge.