Kennadee peeled herself up off the floor and headed for the shower. It wasn’t like her to wallow, and never over a man. Even if that man could turn her on faster than any other, he also sparked her temper faster than anyone she’d ever met.

Wonder if those two things are related? she pondered while washing her hair.

This was senseless, agreeing to help Gideon out at the clinic. Hadn’t she planned to stay as far away from him as she could?

Well, she’d managed that for almost four weeks, and then within a few minutes of being in the same room with him, she’d been playing tonsil hockey. Time away obviously hadn’t worked, maybe time together would?

Now that had possibilities.

One of the reasons she’d come up with the three-date rule wasn’t only to protect herself from developing relationships, but because she was too easily bored. There hadn’t been a man she wanted to spend more than three dates with.

Perfect.

She’d spend time around Gideon, working with him, and there would be something that would kill this powerful yearning she had for him. He might treat his employees like serfs, and like most doctors, he probably had a God complex. That would definitely kill any attraction she had for him.

Taking her queue from Gideon’s suits, she dressed in black slacks, sensible shoes that were still stylish, and an A-line knit top in blues, that highlighted the auburn in her hair. She went to pull her hair back into a ponytail and then decided not to—which had nothing to do with Gideon commenting that he liked her hair down, she told herself—and then added small silver hoops to her ears. She went to leave, swiveled to look at herself in the mirror, and decided to add a bit of mascara and lipstick.

What the hell.

Grabbing her purse, and a lightweight jacket, she headed off for Mercy Heartbreak Medical Clinic.

The clinic had originally been the schoolhouse in Heartbreak back in the 1940s, housing grades K through twelve. It had operated that way until the 1970s when the new school had been built. Since then it had been converted into a police station, and then a community office building, and now the clinic. It maintained its historic clapboard siding the town was known for, showcasing its mining history. It was quaint, inviting, and downright cute.

A screaming toddler greeted her when she entered. The waiting room was packed with women, most run ragged with small children. There were a few women in their forties and fifties, and the rest silver-haired seniors. One being Mrs. Aveda, Kennadee’s former English teacher.

“Why, Kennadee, what brings you here?” she asked. “You didn’t reinjure that shoulder of yours, did you?”

Damn, Heart to Heart Network.

“No, I’m fine, Mrs. Aveda. I’m actually here to help pitch in.”

“Thank the heavens for that. Might I suggest you take the little tyke there first?” She indicated the toddler with tears streaming down his red face. His mother was beside herself trying to console him. “Not only would it help him, but it would also give the rest of us a break from the caterwauling.”

“You got it.” Kennadee approached the woman. “Would you come with me please and we’ll get your little boy seen by the doctor?”

“Hey,” another woman with a stern face and sore attitude interrupted. “I was here before her.”

“Ma’am, it’s obvious this little boy is in more distress than you are. I’m sorry, but emergency patients will be seen first.”

The woman muttered but stood down, and Kennadee ushered the young mom and her little boy through the door that she hoped led to exam rooms. She passed a frazzled receptionist, who she recognized as Joanna Forbes from school, though she’d been a few years behind her.

“Thank you so much for helping out,” Joanna gushed. “We’re swamped.”

“Is there an exam room free that I can take them to?” she asked over the screaming two-year-old.

“They’re all taken. We’re trying to get to everyone as fast as we can.” She leaned in so that only Kennadee could hear. “Someone needs to talk to Dr. Rasmussen about taking so long with each patient. He needs to move things along.”

Obviously, Joanna hoped that someone would be her.

She looked around. There was a hallway with multiple doors, all closed, and then one at the back of the hallway that was cracked open. “Where does that lead?”

“That’s Dr. Rasmussen’s office.”

Kennadee headed for it.

“You can’t use that,” Joanna called after her. “He’ll be very upset. That’s his private sanctuary.”

“When you see him, tell him to free up an exam room or treat this little boy in his office, for that’s where we’ll be. Do you have a chart on—” She turned to the mother, realizing she hadn’t asked for her name or that of the little boy.

“Eric, Eric Michaels, and I’m Ann,” she filled in.

Kennadee held her hand out to Eric. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Michaels.” Eric peeked at her from where he’d hidden his face in his mother’s neck and hiccupped. “Ann, follow me. Joanna, if you could find me Mr. Michaels’ chart and bring it to me please, that would be great. Thank you.”

She opened the door to Gideon’s office, taking in the soft leather couch along one wall, and two high-back plaid chairs in a faded blues and greens that faced a large Cherrywood desk. “Why don’t you have a seat on the couch?” she said, knowing Ann would be more comfortable holding her son there than in the high-back chairs.

Joanna entered with the chart and handed it to Kennadee.

“Joanna, would you also find me a stethoscope and thermometer?”

She nodded and headed back out to locate the items requested.

“Now, what seems to be the problem?” she asked the young Mr. Michaels.