Highland Doc's Christmas Rescue

By: Susan Carlisle

A chance to mend her body...

A doc to heal her heart?


In this Pups that Make Miracles story, search-and-rescue worker Cassandra Bellow arrives at Heatherglen Clinic injured and reeling from the loss of her faithful rescue dog. But a Christmas romance with the gorgeous clinic manager, Dr. Lyle Sinclair, along with Heatherglen’s adorable therapy dogs, restores Cass’s lust for life. Except soon she must return to America—unless guarded Lyle asks her to stay…








Dear Reader,

I love to travel and this book gave me a chance to go to Scotland. To write a Scotsman’s story was even better. Who doesn’t like a handsome man with a great accent? Lyle, the hero in this book, has all of that in spades. Cass, the woman he falls in love with, isn’t immune to his charm either. I hope you enjoy Lyle and Cass’s story and the holiday season in Scotland.

I also want to say how much I have enjoyed working with Annie O’Neil, Annie Claydon and Karin Baine on this continuity. These women are great and they only make me look better. You don’t want to miss a single book in this continuity.

A Scottish Christmas is like no other.

Please join my newsletter list at susancarlisle.com and get all the latest news on my books. I’d love to hear from you.

Susan







To Dallas

I’m proud of the man you are, and your father would be also.








CHAPTER ONE


AS THE TAXI rolled up the rise Cass Bellow looked out the window at the snow-blanketed Heatherglen Castle Clinic in northern Scotland. Why had she been sent here?

More than once she’d questioned her doctor’s wisdom in transferring her to this private clinic for physical therapy. Weren’t there plenty of other places in warmer climates? Particularly in her native US. Or, better yet, couldn’t she have just gone home and handled what needed doing on her own? But, no, her doctor insisted she should be at Heatherglen. Had stated that he sent all his patients with extensive orthopedic injuries there. He declared the place was her best hope for a full recovery. Finally, at her argument, he’d bluntly told her that if she wanted him to sign off on her release she must complete her physical therapy at Heatherglen.

As the car came to a stop at the front door she studied the Norman architecture of the building with its smooth stone walls and slate roof. The place was huge, and breathtaking. There were more chimneys than Cass had a chance to count. This place was nothing like what she’d expected. Though it was early November, festive Christmas wreaths made of greenery and red bows already hung on the outside of the lower floor windows. They further darkened her mood.

When she had been given the search and rescue assignment assisting the military after an explosion in Eastern Europe, she had never dreamed she’d end up in traction in an army hospital on a base in Germany. Her shattered arm and leg had finally mended, but she needed physical therapy to regain complete use of them. Now she’d been sent to this far-flung, snowy place to do just that. All she really wanted was to be left alone.

She opened the cab door and wind blasted her. Despite the heat coming from the still running car, she shuddered. As Cass stepped out, one of the large wooden castle doors, decked with a huge Christmas wreath full of red berries, opened. A tall man, perhaps in his mid-thirties, with the wide shoulders of an athlete stepped out. With rust-colored hair and wearing a heavy tan cable sweater and dark brown pants, he looked like the epitome of what she thought a Scottish man should be. As he came down the few steps toward her, he smiled.

“Hello, you must be Ms. Cassandra Bellow. I’m Dr. Lyle Sinclair, the medical director here at Heatherglen. You may call me Lyle.”

His thick Scottish brogue confirmed her earlier thoughts. Yet she was surprised by the way the sunny cheerfulness of his voice curled around her name, nudging at her icy emotions. Irritated, she pushed that odd notion away. This doctor was far too happy and personable for her taste. Her goal was to do what must be done with as little interaction with others as possible. She planned on nursing her wounds in private.

“Yes, that’s me.” To her satisfaction her flat, dry tone dropped the brightness of his smile a notch. If she could just get to her room and collapse she’d be happy. Her right side was burning from the ache in her arm and the agony of putting her full weight on her right leg.

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