Sunny's Smile

By Christine Bush

In search of his sister, Lucy, and desperate to return to his privileged life, Benedict Highfield crash lands his ailing small plane on the Navajo Reservation bordering Arizona and New Mexico.

Help comes in the form of a young medicine woman—Sunny Whitefeather—who seems to be weaving a spell around him. Sunny is also a highly trained medical doctor intent on bringing life saving medical care to her people while protecting their native customs and traditions.

And that care includes protecting Lucy, her husband Jack and their unborn child from the autocratic Hugh Highfield, who she suspects hired the mysterious henchmen stealing the reservation's life-giving water.

Her only hope to stop the thefts: convince Benedict to help her. But it could cost more than her heart.


Other books by Christine Bush:
Cindy's Prince
Sunny's Smile

NEW COMMITMENT SERIES, in order
Promise Forever
When Love Prevails

NEW BEGINNINGS, in series order
Courageous Heart
Daring Heart
Patient Heart

• Language: English
• Publisher: ePublishing Works
• Release date: May 8, 2017
• ISBN: 9781614179634

Book preview

Author

Chapter 1

When Benedict Henry Highfield opened his eyes, the world was upside down. His head hurt. His shoulder was killing him. His eyelids slid closed again.

Think, his brain hollered, trying to get past the searing pain in his left shoulder. He opened his eyes one more time, but the view hadn't changed. He was hanging, immobilized by the seat belt that had strapped him into the seat of his Cessna plane. Because that beloved (and brand new) plane was belly side up, wheels in the air, like an expired bug. There was nothing but rocky upside down New Mexico desert in his view through the miraculously unbroken windshield.

Though he usually prided himself on his extreme military-like self control, he allowed himself the luxury of one primal expletive, which came out sounding like something between a growl and a scream. He could hear it echo off the distant rock formations. He was instantly glad he was alone, with no witnesses to his lapse into unbridled emotion. Or so he thought.

There was a flash of movement to his left. When he tried to turn his head toward it, the pain shot like a dagger through his shoulder again. He knew what that pain indicated. He had dislocated the shoulder again. He sucked in his breath and tried to turn to face the movement to his left again. His senses went on hyper-alert. He was trapped, immobile, and injured. In strange territory. His military training snapped to attention. Calm down, Buster, his mind cautioned. You are on a desert in the good ole USA, not in Afghanistan anymore. No need to overreact when the movement was probably from a gopher. His eyes scanned the upside down horizon.

She came into view then, moving quickly over the dry earth toward the plane. Even upside down, and through the haze of pain, she was a vision. He may be injured, but he was still male. She was a beautiful woman, moving smoothly, almost floating. Or maybe he was hallucinating. How long had he been out? Maybe he had hit his head harder than he thought. He squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the hot afternoon sun, then opened them again to see if the view had changed. It hadn't.

If she was a vision, she was a darn good one.

From his uncomfortable position, he was checking her out from toe to head, instead of the reverse, which would have been the normal thing to do. As she moved closer, he saw her suede boots, the tops of which disappeared beneath her long and full flowing skirt. The many colored skirt disappeared beneath a longish tan tunic, and there was some kind of woven belt tied loosely around her waist.

He worked his way up. Long, straight black hair draped over her shoulders, almost to her waist. A thin leather headband circled her head. Native American. To the best of his knowledge, he had been flying over the Navajo reservation, so that made sense.

Her face—classic beauty. Generous mouth, straight nose, dark wide eyes, staring down into his through the windshield, intelligent and full of concern. Oh, what he'd give to be right side up. He felt like a bug on a pin, stuck, inadequate, and unable to look directly into those big dark eyes.

Are you ok? I saw you come down, the woman said breathlessly, her hand reaching out to tug open the door of the four seater plane. She reached a hand in the open doorway, and touched his upside down forehead. She was no hallucination. When she pulled her hand away, there was blood on her hand.

I'm ok, he grunted, horrified at how glad he was this little slip of a woman was here, that he was not stuck alone in the desert. Hurt my shoulder. Got to get some help. Can't get out of this harness.

I can help, she said softly, reaching to him, cool hands, soothing his neck, then his shoulder. How hard did you bang your head? Looks like you need a stitch or two.

Probably. I think I was out for a bit. Not long, if you saw me come down.

Her hands continued to roam over him, and if it weren't for the breath-stopping pain in his shoulder, he might have enjoyed it. It's not every day a strange and gorgeous woman ran her hands over a guy like this.

I think it's just the shoulder. And the head wound. So brace yourself. I'm going to release the seat belt so we can get you down.

He didn't have time to object, he just obeyed. He was tough, after all. Ex-military flyer, fancy awards for heroic duty in the Middle East, he had been through the worst of the worst before his recent discharge. Arrgghhhh! came the growl again as he slid from the harness, sliding roughly against the desert angel as she maneuvered herself part way under him to take the brunt of his landing. Smooth.

She was a strong and daring woman, his mind registered through the pain as his shoulder inevitably got bounced around, even with her smooth handling. She slid him out of the plane and onto the sun heated desert floor.

There was a woven basket on the ground beside her, he stared into it as he tried to take deep breaths to cope with the aching shoulder. It was filled with tufts of grasses, some twigs, some pieces of cactus, some desert flowers. His mind tried to concentrate on the details, to keep from feeling the fact his shoulder was screaming with pain.

Free from the plane, and finally sitting right side up, he looked around at the wide expanse of desert. Nothing in sight. Where had she come from anyway? And why was she out here?

I saw you come down, she said again softly. He watched in amazement as she reached beneath the hem of her skirt, and pulled down a white lacy slip. She scrunched up her face in determination, and ripped the slip into two. One strip she wrapped around his head to stop the seeping blood from his gash. The other she fashioned quickly into a sling type configuration, sliding it over his head, and under his left elbow. Miraculously, the pain the shoulder lessened a bit with the support. What happened? she asked.

He really wasn't sure. The Cessna was new, and though he was an experienced and licensed pilot, he hadn't seen any warning before the engine had cut out and he had been forced to attempt to land on this wide expanse of open land. Which didn't turn out to be as flat as his view from the air had indicated. Or as smooth as the sandy desert he had become used to landing on in the Middle East. Here on the ground, he could see the many small rocks and gullies that littered the place. When he had hit the ground, speed still too high, he had hit some wheel stopping landform, and the whole plane had flipped right over. Horrible.

It stalled, he said more than a bit defensively, I guess I hit a rock and flipped. He looked over at the plane, shiny white paint, with jazzy red trim. It didn't even look too bad, except for the fact that one wheel was broken off and missing from view. The plane had fared better, maybe, than he had.

Your shoulder is dislocated, she said matter-of-factly. If you lay down, I will try to put it back into place for you. Though it would be painful without medication.

Ben grunted. A little slip of a native girl was going to tug his shoulder back into the socket out here on the desert? Not that he couldn't bear the pain. He was a tough guy, after all. But really? It would be laughable, if he didn't hurt quite so bad. But he would wait for the professionals. For sure.

Rather wait and go to the hospital, he said, voice a little gruffer than he meant it to be. Did he sound defensive? He didn't want to hurt her feelings, on the one hand. On the other hand, he couldn't stand that she thought he would flinch at the pain involved. He was, after all, a tough guy. He could handle anything. Almost.

He winced, too much thinking making his head hurt more.

We have to get you to the clinic in Gallup to get taken care of, she said, not answering his defensiveness. That's closest. You know where you are? I know you're not from here. She helped him to his feet.

I was heading to Gallup, he said through gritted teeth as he got his balance. The shoulder hurt like hell. Where am I? New Mexico?

New Mexico. Right over the line from the Arizona border. Gallup's not far.

He turned and dared to look at her then, right side up this time. Beautiful. The long black hair was sleek and shiny, and he fought the urge to reach out and touch it with his good hand. She wore a necklace of turquoise beads around her neck. What the heck was she doing out here in the middle of the desert? He watched her pick up her basket. Graceful, gentle. He took a deep breath and fell into step beside her, trying to forget the way his body ached. How far is it? How far do we have to walk?

She laughed, slipping a hand under his good elbow, as if to guide and assist him. Even hurt, it seemed like a ridiculous gesture. She couldn't be more than 5'4, and 120 pounds was a generous estimate. Compared to his 6'4, and almost 200 pounds of gravity, on a good day he could have picked her up and held her over his head. Though this wasn't a good day. His head was starting to pound, the desert sun beating down on him. He was glad for the arm offering help, even as a symbol.

We're a couple of miles out of Gallup. You crashed on the Navajo reservation.

Ahh, he said, The Navajo reservation. It was obvious he'd guessed right. Her dress, her features. His rescuer looked like a Navajo princess. Or at least, what he imagined one would look like.

We don't have to walk. I have a jeep parked over there behind that stand of rocks. She gestured. In a few more steps, it came into view. He was very, very glad to see it. The thought of walking a few miles in the heat with this pain literally made his head spin.

Ben climbed into the passenger seat. She reached behind the seat, pulled out a bottle of water, popped off the top, and handed it to him. Drink, she said. It's easy to get dehydrated out here.

He gulped it down, grateful. He hadn't realized how thirsty he was. She had taken a bottle for herself too, and took a long sip as she settled herself behind the wheel. He watched her swallow, and something sensuous wrenched inside of him. Again, he fought the urge to touch her. Man, he must have been out in the sun too long.

Thanks, he said, grasping for normalcy. Sure was my lucky day you were out here. Why are you way out here, by the way? At first she seemed like a hallucination, and now, she seemed all too real. He could smell the fresh scent of her, like sunshine and flowers.

She laughed at his question, and tossed her head, the movement making her hair gleam in the sun. He swallowed again. The Indian princess didn't seem to notice, oblivious of his reaction to her. She went on.

I'm out here a lot. I love the desert. Visiting people. And I collect the things I need. She motioned to the basket in the back of the jeep. I come out to find the things I need for my natural remedies. There's lots of healing in these grasses and cactus and flowers. Navajo tradition.

I see. And he did. He had landed in a different world. It wasn't his world. He was just here on his father's orders, to find his sister, Lucy, and get her to come back home with him. Whether Lucy liked it or not. He cleared his throat.

I'm here to find my missing sister. Lucy Highfield. Any chance you know her? I'm Ben, by the way, Benedict Highfield.

The jeep came to life. I don't think I know her. The name's not familiar, she said. I'm Sunny. Hold on.

She threw the vehicle into gear, and it lurched forward. He grimaced as the movement wrenched his shoulder.

I'm sorry to say it's going to be a bouncy ride until we get back to the main road. Lots of rocks and arroyos out here. And this jeep has practically no shocks at all. Brace your shoulder best you can. Can you handle it?

Ben grunted. I can handle it. I'm a tough guy. Just get me to a doctor.

Sunny grinned, as the jeep lurched forward again. A tough guy. I see. Well, even though, I'll be gentle.

Did she have to hit every rock and crevice in the canyon? Ben clenched his teeth, and stifled the swearing stuck in his throat. It felt like hours, though probably it was only minutes before the stretch of paved road came into view.

I'll take you straight to the medical clinic in town. Less pain putting that shoulder back in with medication. And you need some well placed stitches so that gash doesn't scar. You don't look like a scar kind of guy. Even if you're as tough as you say.

Was she laughing at him? Her eyes were dancing as she turned her head and gazed at him, but they didn't seem malevolent.

What did she know about him anyway? In his khakis and golf shirt, he looked pretty generic. He guessed he didn't look tough. How was she to know what he had been through in the war as a flyer in the Middle East? Or his mantle full of medals and awards? Or that he excelled in political science at Princeton University? Or meeting the challenge of growing up with his critical and demanding father, the infamous Hugh Highfield? Not all scars show, he had learned.

I'm tough enough, he said simply. But I'm looking forward to getting medical help none the less. Real medical help, he added, looking back at her basket of nature products with a meaningful glance. Not a poultice made out of some grassy goop that grows in the wild.

The minute the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. He was not a mean guy. He was just overwhelmed with the pain. But there was no need to be critical of this Sunny, who only wanted to help him. Goop and all.

But instead of taking umbrage with his snide remark, she laughed. No problem. Different strokes for different folks, that's what I always say. Is this your first dislocated shoulder?

No, he said, determined to be polite now. I had one a few months ago, over in the war. Afghanistan. He grimaced again as the jeep veered around a corner.

Ah, a soldier, she said with a head nod, as if that explained everything. Then she gestured up ahead, as they were entering the outskirts of Gallup. He saw some small motels, a service station, some low squatty buildings, their pale colors reflecting the late afternoon sun. We're here. The clinic's coming up on the left.

Ben felt a little bad about his poultice crack, though she didn't seem to be overly offended by it. Chalk it up to being cranky with pain, and the aggravation of having to leave his Cessna sitting out in the desert. Or was it a kind of defense, as this tiny delicate woman set something off in him that was mighty uncomfortable?

Sorry I'm such a grump, Sunny. I really appreciate the ride. I'm probably more charming when my shoulder's facing the right direction, and there's no blood caked on my forehead. And when my Cessna's right side up.

No problem. You're plenty charming for a victim of a plane wreck. And I was due to come into town for work anyway. Here we go. The clinic's right here on the left. I'll let you out at the front door.

The jeep rolled to a stop, and he swung his legs around and got out before she could come help him. A man has his pride, after all. He tried to ignore the dizziness that washed over him with the sudden movement. Like the soldier he was, he stood up tall, swallowing the groan that wanted to erupt from the pain.

The clinic had large sparkling plate glass windows. He could see pale blue vertical blinds, and a brightly lit waiting room peeking through them. He turned back to her. This looks good. Clean and up to date. How's the doctor?

The best, she said, over her shoulder, as the jeep peeled away.

* * *

Sunny popped the jeep into gear, whizzed down the street and around the block. She was late, but it was for a good cause. Her time on the desert had been cut a little short, but she had found most everything she needed. If she hadn't been up there, hadn't seen the small plane dip down suddenly for an emergency landing, it might have been a real problem for Mr. Benedict Highfield. The sun would soon be setting, and it would have been a cold, dark night out there on the desert. Upside down.

It had been a strange sight, the small plane rolling quickly as its wheels hit the ground. It looked like it was almost bouncing along the desert floor, then hitting a boulder sized rock. Like a tumbleweed, and in slow motion, it flipped right over. Almost soundlessly, except for the final thud, it came to rest upside down. So far off the beaten track, the poor man could have been hanging there for quite a long time before anyone noticed. And cell phone service, out on the desert, was a very unstable thing. So she was glad she found him. Very glad.

She grimaced, hating the truth. She was glad, not just because she could help him, but because of her ridiculous reaction to the man. She had an instant attraction to him. Big time. No matter that he been literally upside down, in pain, and grumpy as a bear cub, dismissing her like she was an overly enthusiastic first aider. One look into those eyes, and something inside her stirred. What was that all about? She sighed, and pushed the thought away. It was ridiculous.

She pulled into her parking lot, and jumped out, grabbing her basket as she went. With a key, she opened the back door. With the grace of a ballerina, she slipped into the ladies room. Sunny pulled back her hair, securing it with a handmade clip, and scrubbed her hands in the sink.

Careful, girl, she said to the image in the mirror, dark eyes staring back at her. Forget the butterflies. Forget those flying endorphins. Forget how absolutely handsome he is. Keep your head on straight. Stranger danger.

She pulled off her boots, and slipped her feet into a waiting pair of white clogs. She reached into the closet, pulled out her white coat, and buttoned it with speed. Dr. Sunny Whitefeather was embroidered across the pocket.

She opened the door and stepped into the waiting room, where her nurse and receptionist already sat busily at their desks. Soft tones of soothing music hovered in the background. The well spaced chairs in the waiting room were covered in a colorful Navaho pattern. The seats were filled with a variety of waiting patients, old and young. One was hauntingly familiar, big and tall, wearing a piece of her slip tied around his forehead, and another piece as a sling around his shoulder.

If there's no other emergency, Nurse May, she said, Let's take the bleeding man first. And I'll need an extra set of hands to reset the shoulder.

The nurse stood up from her chair, leaving the receptionist to handle the desk. She headed back toward the patient rooms. I'll get things ready, the nurse said over her shoulder in a professional tone.

Ben was sitting there, staring at her, wide eyed.

My, Sunny thought, This is fun, in a weird kind of way. Even shocked, he was mighty cute. She allowed herself that one thought, before slipping totally into her medical persona.

Mr. Highfield, said the receptionist in her very professional voice, Dr. Whitefeather will see you now.

Chapter 2

Benjamin Highfield WAS tough, Sunny decided. With a minimum of pain medication, the shoulder was repaired, the forehead gash cleaned, and the sutures applied. He hadn't complained, though Sunny knew that the procedure was more than uncomfortable. He barely spoke a word. She saw him staring at the wall, studying her many medical diplomas displayed there, the University of New Mexico, Stanford University, University of Southern California Medical School. What was he thinking? Why did she care? She knew her Curriculum Vitae was impeccable.

Will you be staying long in the area. Mr. Highfield? She spoke softly, her eyes down as she wrote notes on his medical chart. I can take those stitches out in a few days.

He didn't answer, so she raised her head to gaze at him.

Ben looked preoccupied, then turned and stared at her. I'll be here just long enough to get the plane back up in the air. And to find my sister Lucy, and take her back home before she makes any more ridiculous decisions that will change the course of her life. His tone of voice didn't encourage conversation.

When he was done, he left, arm in a sling to support his newly relocated shoulder. Nurse May gave him the name and number of a small rooming house just a few blocks away. He made a phone call to ask about a room, then politely said thanks and goodbye to the office staff. He refused the receptionist's offer of a ride to the rooming house.

Sunny saw the back of his head as all 6'4" of him went out the door.

Gone. A surprising wave of sadness rushing over her. Surprising, because her usual reaction to men was to have NO reaction. Later, she promised herself, she would try to figure out her attraction to the determined stranger, Benjamin Highfield. But not now. She had work to do. And she was dedicated to her work.

Sunny returned to her patients, embracing their variety of needs. She applied splints, wrapped a sprain, did a pregnancy test, and addressed abdominal pains. The chairs in the waiting rooms emptied and filled again, as Sunny used her skills, her compassion, and her knowledge.

She dispensed equal doses of modern medicine, and holistic Navaho medical tradition, often combining both, as the situation warranted. Hours passed as she doctored young and old.

She didn't think of Mr. Benedict Highfield again until the very last patient came in the door.

The young woman was a new patient, blond and cheerful. And very pregnant. She walked carefully, almost waddling, aided across the waiting room by a handsome young man whose dark coloring and native profile illustrated his part Navajo heritage. He was not a new patient. Sunny had treated Jack Greentree for a back injury the summer before, when he had been thrown while breaking a defiant horse while working for the summer on his uncle's local ranch. She heard he returned home permanently after graduating college and was now a teacher at the local school during the school term. She hadn't seen him or his uncle Hank in a while. Sunny grinned at him.

Long time, no see, stranger, she said.

I'm trying to avoid being thrown by any more horses, Dr. Sunny, he laughed, his dark eyes sparkling. Because I'm an old married man now, with lots of responsibility."

He put a strong arm around the little blond woman at his side. The woman gave a hearty laugh, shaking her head. The motion made her tousled blond curls bounce. And this here's my wife, Lucy. Lucy Greentree, he went on. That's why we're here. We're expecting a baby soon, in case you didn't notice. We've settled here now, and with the baby coming, we wanted to get a checkup. Got to make sure everybody stays healthy.

The young couple looked at each other, gaze full of pride and love. It made Sunny smile.

Couldn't help but notice about the baby, and checkups are a good idea, she said with a grin, gesturing to Lucy's expanding middle as she ushered them into the office. She looked down at the new file the receptionist handed her. Lucy Highfield Greentree. Highfield.

Her eyes opened wide. She thought back to the aggravated and handsome flyer whose shoulder she set only a few hours before. Benedict Highfield was aggravated he had to come retrieve his sister. Benedict Highfield was going to be even more aggravated, she knew.

It looked like his little sister Lucy had already made some of those life changing decisions he had been so worked up about. And the truth was, she looked pretty happy. Life did not always take the path one expected.

Nice to meet you, Lucy, she said with a welcoming smile. Their family drama was not her business at the moment. She turned her whole focus to her patient. Let's see how things are going here with your baby. Any problems? Have you been under a doctor's care before this?

I'm feeling great, though big as a whale, said Lucy. We came here after graduation because Jack took a job at the high school here when they needed him to finish the term. I was seeing the clinic doctor on the college campus for the past few months, until we were done school.

Glad to have you both in the area, Sunny said as she began the exam.

I love it here, said Lucy in soft voice. "I'm working at the school,