Page 10 of Rescuing Dr. Marian (Made Marian Legacy #1)

“Friday.” I glanced at the calendar. Two days to get ready.

“Taking the pup?” he asked, nodding down at the lanky dog currently sprawled out on her back with her paws curled in the air. The hiker we’d rescued had school-age boys who’d run her around at the trailhead, resulting in a rare moment of napping hound right now.

I sighed. “Yeah, good practice for her.” And good company for me, even though I knew she’d be a handful.

That night at my cabin, I went through my usual routine—dinner alone, training with Chick in the yard, a beer while finishing up a few reports. The evening was warm enough that we stayed outside longer than usual, with Chickie chasing fireflies in the growing twilight.

“Come on, goofball,” I finally called. “Time to go in.”

Chickie bounded up the porch steps, all gangly legs and wagging tail, then stopped to shake vigorously, sending dirt and grass flying everywhere.

“Thanks for that,” I muttered but couldn’t help smiling as I ruffled her ears. For all her chaos, she was alright. I’d gotten her as a puppy despite knowing better, and she was just as all over the place as I’d imagined. It was going to take forever to train her up right.

Yet another thing to blame Tommy Marian for.

Inside, I opened the fridge to grab a beer and frowned at the meager contents. Maybe SERA’s dining hall would offer me a chance to escape my usual slim pickings.

When I went to grab a clean shirt for tomorrow, my hands froze over the dresser .

I’d started calling the second drawer from the top the “T-shirt Drawer of Shame” in my head because it held the one thing I should have thrown away months ago—the T-shirt Tommy had given me that night in Hawaii.

I stood there, fingers twitching, knowing I should just shut the drawer and go to bed. Instead, I pulled it out, ran my thumb over the soft, worn fabric.

The memories hit me like physical blows.

Tommy’s smile as he’d handed it to me. Waking up to his note and the bourbon he’d sent to my room.

Finding him in the hotel lobby with a fucking fiancée and a hundred pairs of eyes staring at me.

The regret and confusion on his face when I’d walked out of his life for good.

My desperate rush to leave Hawaii immediately so I could start to forget everything about Dr. Thomas Marian.

And all the nights since, whether in the shower or sprawled naked on my bed with my cock in my hand, when remembering Tommy was the only fucking thing that brought me any relief.

I shoved the shirt back in the drawer and slammed it shut. Chickie whined from her bed in the corner, sensing my mood shift.

“It’s okay, girl,” I said, crossing the room to kneel beside her. She licked my face, her warm weight against me comforting. “We’re going on an adventure soon. Just you and me.”

Friday morning came with clear skies and a forecast of another scorching day. I loaded my gear and Chick into my truck and pointed us north toward Montana, windows down to catch whatever breeze we could find.

The drive gave me too much time to think. About my mom’s worried face when I’d told her I was leaving for the summer. About Way’s not-so-subtle suggestion that this trip might “clear my head.” About the way I’d been holding everyone at arm’s length since Hawaii.

Maybe they were right. Maybe a summer in Legacy was exactly what I needed. Maybe there’d be hot firefighters and pilots at SERA who could help me forget about the last man I’d kissed.

“What do you think, Chick?” I glanced over at my co-pilot, who had her head out the window, ears flapping in the wind. “Ready for an adventure?”

She barked enthusiastically as I reached for the knob on the radio and turned up the music.

The landscape changed gradually as we crossed into Montana—the land a little wilder, the forests denser. The temperature dropped as we gained a little elevation, a welcome relief from the heat wave we’d been experiencing in Majestic.

Legacy itself was a charming town with rustic character, nestled at the bottom of Slingshot Mountain with a river running through its center.

Local legend said it was named by a gold miner who’d struck it rich and declared the town would be his legacy to his children.

The gold had run out eventually, but the town had persisted, reinventing itself as a quirky little place with similar but less robust outdoor tourism than Majestic and a burgeoning art and eatery scene.

With only two slopes, it would never compete with the ski traffic at Vail or Jackson, but it had enough visitors in summer to justify an eclectic collection of shops and restaurants that had, themselves, become a draw for tourists year-round.

Now, in peak summer, the main street was bustling with sporty tourists in hiking boots and artsy types in flowy hemp pants and cropped tank tops. Outdoor gear shops and artisan cafés lined the road, along with a few bars that looked like they’d been there since the mining days.

After driving through and then out of the town center for several more miles, I pulled up to SERA headquarters—a sprawling lodge with several outbuildings and small cabins, nestled against the base of the mountain.

The parking lot was packed with vehicles sporting license plates from half a dozen states.

Chick and I were late. I’d stopped to help a family change a flat on the side of the road, and by the time we made it into the main building, instructor orientation was already underway.

I slipped into the back of the room, Chickie at my heels, and scanned the setup, which included about a dozen people, equipment displays along the walls, and detailed maps of the surrounding wilderness.

My attention shifted to the front of the room, where a man with an award-winning ass was speaking, his back to me as he pointed at a topographical map.

“—conditions are particularly challenging this season. Which is a good opportunity for us to teach the importance of improvisation in wilderness emergency response.”

His voice hit me like a physical blow, and I froze.

Tommy?

It couldn’t be.

He turned then, and our eyes locked across the crowded room. I blinked in shock.

Tommy fucking Marian was standing at the front of the room, looking just as stunned as I felt. For a moment, he faltered, the words dying on his lips as he stared at me.

My heart hammered against my ribs. Six months. Six months of trying to forget, and now this. The one man I never thought I’d see again. Didn’t want to see again.

Asshole.

Tommy recovered first, breaking eye contact to address the other people in the room again with a small clearing of his throat. “But it also means we need to be ready for the unexpected, which I’m sure you already know.”

The rest of his words faded to background noise as I tried to process what was happening.

What were the odds? What was he even doing here?

He was supposed to be a hotshot ER doctor on the verge of selling out to anesthesia.

He was supposed to be in New York , playing happy family with his poor, unsuspecting bride.

I felt a tug on the leash and looked down to see Chick sitting alertly, head tilted as she studied Tommy with great interest.

Great . Even my dog was captivated by him. The traitor .

When orientation ended, people began milling about, talking in groups, and I turned to go. Maybe I could use Chick as an excuse to get some fresh air.

A friendly woman with a clipboard and a name badge that said Robyn stopped me and introduced herself as one of the program coordinators.

“Sheriff, welcome to SERA. Trace will come find you as soon as he has a free minute. In the meantime, here’s your room information and key, as well as a property map. Don’t hesitate to let me know if you have any questions. We’re so happy you could join us!”

“Thanks, sorry I was late. But, uh… can you tell me what Tommy Marian is doing here?”

Her face lit up. “Oh! He’s the temporary medical director. His family helped Trace start SERA. In fact, the land we’re on was originally part of the Marians’ property. They donated it to the program. You’ll love Dr. Marian. He’s amazing.”

I could tell she was the victim of a little hero worship, and part of me wanted to ruin her pretty image of the man by explaining he wasn’t quite as amazing as she thought. Instead, I nodded and murmured my thanks.

As I made my way back out to my truck, Chickie trotting at my heels, I tore open the flap of the envelope and pulled out my room key, along with a couple of folded pages.

“The fuck?” I breathed, staring at the rooming assignment.

Cabin 8: Dr. Thomas Marian, Director of Emergency Medicine, and Foster Blake, Director of Search and Rescue.

I stared at the names to see if my brain or eyes could possibly be playing tricks on me. But no, the words were there.

The two of us were sharing a cabin.

I ran a hand through my hair and huffed out a humorless laugh. Seriously, what were the fucking chances?

Actually, probably pretty good if Desi had been shacking up with the previous medical guy. Fuck.

Chick looked up at me with those trusting brown eyes, completely unaware of the shit storm brewing. I took a deep breath and tried to get ahold of myself.

Maybe I should leave. Maybe this was a sign I should go back to Majestic and focus on my own damned career instead of my SAR obsession.

I gritted my teeth and shook my head. I’d be damned if I’d let some selfish-as-fuck, married city boy take away my opportunity to teach and learn about one of my favorite topics.

No, I wouldn’t be leaving. If Dr. Marian didn’t want a reminder of his indiscretions, then he would have to be the one to leave.

“Come on, girl,” I said, tugging gently on her leash.

I walked out of the main hall without looking back to see where the good doctor was, but there was no need. The image of Tommy Marian’s beautiful fucking face had been seared into my memory six long months ago.

It was going to be an excruciating summer.