The Surgeon's Christmas Baby

“I have two sisters. Carla lives in Phoenix. She’s been divorced twice but doesn’t have any kids. Lea’s married with two boys. Recently my mother moved to Santa Fe to be closer to Lea and the grandkids.”

“And your father?”

“He took off when I was little.”

“Do you keep in touch with your sisters?”

“We talk every few months.” He’d phoned his sisters when he’d returned from Afghanistan but had passed up their invites to visit. He wasn’t ready to answer their questions about his time in the military.

Hannah slowed the truck when she passed a fifty-five-mile-per-hour speed sign. “Red Bluff Diner isn’t far from here.” The road forked and she drove west. “I recommend the bison steak fajitas.”

“What about regular beef?”

“They have that, too, but it’s not as tasty.” She smiled. “Try the bison.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“Go ahead,” he said.

“What’s up with the hitchhiking? It’s not every day you come across a trauma surgeon thumbing his way through New Mexico.”

“I needed a break from all the chaos in the ER.” He winked when she looked at him. “They don’t call it trauma for nothing.”

“I thought all you military guys loved working under pressure. Taking a long walk can’t be near as exciting as saving lives.”

Saving lives only mattered if the people remained alive. “I like the fast-paced atmosphere of the ER, but the constant stress drains your energy.”

“How long do you plan to keep walking?”

“Don’t know yet.” Long enough to clear his head of all the bad memories stored in his brain.

She flashed a teasing smile. “You should have driven, then you’d see more of the countryside.”

“I saw enough countryside in Afghanistan to last me a lifetime.” Then he’d returned to the barrio in Albuquerque—another war zone, just different people and different reasons for killing each other. “What about you?” he said. “Did you always want to be a rancher?”

“I wanted to go to college, but things were crazy at home and someone had to be there for Luke.”

It occurred to Alonso that Hannah had been taking care of her brother most of her life. “What would you have studied if you’d gone to school?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe history.”

“Seriously?”

“Go ahead and laugh. I have no idea what kind of job I would have gotten with a history degree but I would have enjoyed taking all those classes.”

“I never pictured a woman being a rancher.”

“I never thought I’d be managing a ranch, either. But life throws you curveballs, and when I was forced to assume more and more responsibility, I grew attached to the land and the animals. And now I can’t see myself doing anything else.”

Hannah steered the pickup into a gravel lot and parked. The diner sat on the edge of a bluff overlooking a valley. Spotlights shone across the landscape, which was made up of broken mesas.

“Nice view,” he said.

“We’ll ask for a table with a view.”

When they entered the establishment, an older woman in Native American clothing greeted them. “Hello, Hannah.”

“Betsy.” Hannah nodded to her dinner date. “This is my friend Alonso. Betsy’s father owns the restaurant.”

“You’ve got a million-dollar view here,” he said.

“Follow me.” Betsy led the way to a table by the windows.

Alonso held out a chair for Hannah, then sat across from her. Betsy filled their water glasses and asked if they’d like to view the drink menu. Hannah ordered a glass of red wine and Alonso a beer. “It feels as if we’re sitting on the edge of a cliff.”

“Too bad it’s dark,” she said. “On a clear day you can see the Sandia Mountains from here.” When Betsy delivered their drinks, Hannah raised her wineglass. “To helpful strangers.”

He tapped the neck of his beer bottle against her glass. Hannah was the first person in longer than he remembered who he felt relaxed with—unlike his coworkers, who were high-strung and neurotic.

Hannah signaled Betsy over to their table. “Alonso has never eaten bison. I thought we’d try an appetizer first.”

“The nachos?” Betsy asked.

Hannah nodded. “I promise,” she said to Alonso. “These will be the best nachos you’ve ever eaten.”

Ten minutes later Betsy delivered the appetizer and Alonso experienced his first taste of bison. “This is good.”

“Told you so.” Hannah licked her fingertip and Alonso couldn’t tear his gaze from her mouth. Her lips spread in a smile.

“You’ve got a dreamy look on your face,” she said. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that I’d like to—” kiss you “—order the bison burger.”

“That’s what I’m having.”

A surge of testosterone swept through Alonso’s bloodstream. He hadn’t experienced such sharp arousal since he couldn’t remember when. He’d gone on a few dates with nurses when he’d joined the hospital staff, but grew tired of always talking about the things that had happened on their shift—none of them had a life outside of the hospital.

“Did you like the nachos?” Betsy asked Alonso when she picked up the empty platter.

“They were fantastic,” he said.

“We’ll both have the bison burger,” Hannah said. “Make mine medium well, please.”

“The same for me.” Alonso handed Betsy his menu.

The burgers came out a few minutes later along with a special house-made barbecue sauce. After his first bite, he moaned. “I’ll never turn my nose up again when anyone mentions bison meat.”