Table Of ContentGetting Jack back
This was not his professional plan. Dr. Jack Alexander—dedicated surgeon and
humanitarian—never expected an accident would end his time in the O.R. Nor
did he expect to have to abandon his aid work. Now, back in Atlanta, he’s faced
with rebuilding his career…his life. And his hope for the future comes from the
least likely source—the little family next door.
From the first moment he spots Sophie Connors having a water fight with her
young sons, Jack is captivated. She defies all of his assumptions about family
and relationships. Too bad she resists committing. Somehow he has to change
her mind. Because together they may find that life doesn’t always turn out the
way you planned…sometimes, it turns out even better.
Praise for Tracy Wolff!
“Wolff does an amazing job depicting Rhiannon’s fear and insecurity, as well as
Shawn’s desire to help her get over both.”
—RT Book Reviews on Unguarded
“The Christmas Present is more traditional in its plot (lovers from the opposites
sides of the track) but the characterization is...strong.”
—Dear Author on The Christmas Present
“Unguarded is a deeply compelling,
character driven novel.”
—Lynette’s Two Cents on Unguarded
“Wolff is an excellent writer.”
—IReadRomance.com on
The Christmas Wedding
Dear Reader,
I am so excited that Healing Dr. Alexander has finally made it to the shelves.
This is my second book about doctors working to make the world a better place.
Jack’s story has haunted me for years and I’m thrilled to have this chance to
share it with the world.
I first got the idea for these books—and this story, in particular—when I was
still in graduate school. Though I knew I wasn’t ready to write it then (too busy
juggling school, teaching and a new baby) it was an idea I couldn’t let go of. So
I filed it away, and when it came time to propose my latest ideas to Harlequin, I
knew it was finally time for me to write this book.
Healing Dr. Alexander is a story of love and redemption, preconceived notions
and second chances. My main characters, Jack and Sophie, have both had a
really difficult time of it in recent years and I love the fact that, despite all their
pain, mistrust and determination to go it alone, in the end they find their way to
each other and their happily-ever-after. It isn’t an easy road—with their pasts
and their baggage, trusting in something as nebulous as love is about as easy as
going for a root canal without anesthetic. But somehow they manage it, and I’m
so glad they do. Putting the end on this story and giving these two the future they
both richly deserve was one of the most satisfying things I’ve done in a very
long time. I hope, when you get to the end, you’ll agree.
Thanks so much for picking up Healing Dr. Alexander and giving Jack and
Sophie a chance. I love hearing from my readers via email at
[email protected] or on my blog, www.tracywolff.blogspot.com.
Happy reading,
Tracy Wolff
Healing
Dr. Alexander
Tracy Wolff
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tracy Wolff collects books, English degrees and lipsticks, and has been known
to forget where—and sometimes who—she is when immersed in a great novel.
At six, she wrote her first short story—something with a rainbow and a prince—
and at seven, she ventured into the wonderful world of girls’ lit with her first
Judy Blume novel. By ten, she’d read everything in the young-adult and classics
sections of her local bookstore, so in desperation her mom started her on
romance novels. And from the first page of the first book, Tracy knew she’d
found her lifelong love. Tracy lives in Texas with her husband and three sons,
where she pens romance novels and teaches writing at her local community
college.
Books by Tracy Wolff
HARLEQUIN SUPERROMANCE
1529—A CHRISTMAS WEDDING
1568—FROM FRIEND TO FATHER
1607—THE CHRISTMAS PRESENT
1649—BEGINNING WITH THEIR BABY
1676—UNGUARDED
1703—DESERVING OF LUKE
1760—FROM THE BEGINNING
All backlist available in ebook. Don’t miss any of our special offers. Write to us
at the following address for information on our newest releases.
Harlequin Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3
For my husband.
Love,
Tracy
Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
PROLOGUE
“DR. ALEXANDER, now!”
The panic in the head nurse’s voice barely penetrated Jack Alexander’s
concentration as he searched for the bleeder that, if not stopped, would claim his
patient’s life. The top of the damn artery had started to roll back up the leg and
he was having a difficult time finding it amidst all the blood.
“Dr. Alexander!” Becca’s shrill voice called his name a second time.
“Whatever it is, it’s going to have to wait!” he said, not taking his eyes from
the teenage boy on the gurney in front of him. “I’ve only got a couple of minutes
here or I’m going to lose him.”
The clinic didn’t have enough blood stored to make up for what was currently
being pumped out of the poor kid. And while there was a line of people hundreds
deep outside the clinic, most of the Somali patients were too close to starvation
to afford the blood loss that came with donating. No, if this boy had any chance
of survival at all, Jack had to find the top half of the shorn artery. Now.
“They want to talk to whoever’s in charge. I told them you were in surgery.
They didn’t care.”
“Who?” he asked, distractedly. Then turning to Ruth, the nurse who was
assisting him, he barked, “Stretch his leg out as far as you can. I’ve got to dig for
it.” It was times like these that he missed his fully equipped operating room back
in the States. Performing surgery in an ill-equipped tent in Somalia might have
been his calling, but in moments like this it was also a horror.
“The Shahab,” Becca told him, her voice low and urgent and frightened. That
got his attention.
“They’re here?” he demanded, even as he dug deeper into his patient’s leg. He
was deadly aware of the moments that kept ticking by. In another ninety seconds
this whole situation was going to be moot because the teenager on the table in
front of him would be dead. Damn it. He glanced down at the kid’s face. He
couldn’t have been more than fourteen or fifteen. Far too young to die.
“They’re outside. They want supplies.”
“We just gave them stuff last week,” he said, following the path the artery had
taken, his gloved fingers slipping. Thank God they’d had enough anesthesia to
knock the kid out—this time. But if they gave the Somali warlords any more
