Книга - Wolf Creek Homecoming

Wolf Creek Homecoming
Penny Richards


ALL ROADS LEAD TO HOMEGabe Gentry used to live entirely in pursuit of carefree pleasure. It cost him his relationship with his brother, and with the one woman who believed in him. Now, with new-found faith, he’s coming home to Wolf Creek, Arkansas, hoping to find redemption and forgiveness, and maybe even a second chance at love.Physician Rachel Stone never thought she’d lay eyes on Gabe again. After their brief time together, Gabe disappeared, leaving Rachel devastated and secretly pregnant with his son. His return stirs up her bitterness…and her attraction. But Gabe’s already burned her once, how can she trust him again, now that her son’s heart is on the line as well?







All Roads Lead to Home

Gabe Gentry used to live entirely in pursuit of carefree pleasure. It cost him his relationship with his brother, and with the one woman who believed in him. Now, with newfound faith, he’s coming home to Wolf Creek, Arkansas, hoping to find redemption and forgiveness, and maybe even a second chance at love.

Physician Rachel Stone never thought she’d lay eyes on Gabe again. After their brief time together, Gabe disappeared, leaving Rachel devastated and secretly pregnant with his son. His return stirs up her bitterness…and her attraction. But Gabe’s already burned her once; how can she trust him again, now that her son’s heart is on the line, as well?


Rachel had almost reached the window when she heard another soft clatter. Someone was throwing gravel.

Grabbing a shawl, she poked her head out the window. Gabe stood with his hands on his hips, his head tipped back, watching to see if she would answer his summons.

“What are you doing here?” she screeched in a loud whisper. She was appalled by his presence yet unaccountably pleased to see him. What a scandal it would be if anyone else saw him!

“I haven’t seen you all day, and I wanted to tell you that I…”

Her breath hung suspended and her heart seemed to stop midbeat.

“…I miss you.”

“Gabe,” she all but groaned. Then, pushing aside a ridiculous rush of pleasure, she summoned her most professional tone. “Go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a heartless woman, Rachel Stone? Where will I see you tomorrow? At the store, or between the times before you hurry off to see a patient? Where’s the romance in that?”

“Romance?”

“Yes, romance. Obviously you’ve never been courted before.”


PENNY RICHARDS

has been writing and selling contemporary romance since 1983. Confronted with burnout, she took several years off to pursue other things she loved, like editing a local oral history project and coauthoring a stage play about a dead man (known fondly as Old Mike) who was found in the city park in 1911, got a double dose of embalming and remained on display until the seventies. Really. She also spent ten years renovating her 1902 Queen Anne home and getting it onto the National Register of Historic Places. At the “big house” she ran and operated Garden Getaways, a bed-and-breakfast and catering business that did everything from receptions, bridal lunches, fancy private dinners and “tastings” to dress-up tea parties (with makeup and all the trimmings) for little girls who liked to pretend to be grand ladies while receiving manners lessons. What fun!

Though she had a wonderful time and hosted people from every walk of life, writing was still in her blood, and her love of all things historical led her to historical fiction, more specifically historical mystery and inspirational romances. She is thrilled to be back writing and, God willing, hopes to continue to do so for many years.


Wolf Creek Homecoming

Penny Richards




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.

—Romans 3:23–24


For LaRee and Sandy—friends, confidantes, mentors, brainstorming partners, critique group and travelin’ buds who listen, help, inspire, set me straight and pick me up, dust me off and tell me I can. Whoever would have thought we’d be here when we met at a writer’s conference almost thirty years ago?


Contents

Prologue (#uead306eb-5505-5eee-afbf-15224f1f08b3)

Chapter One (#u3b0f585f-0ab5-5cf2-9964-9bae1fefe833)

Chapter Two (#u27d6d826-24ec-5888-a381-d3dc6085511c)

Chapter Three (#ueb8c8845-430a-53f4-8bcc-b29811079af8)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)

Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)


Prologue

St. Louis, 1877

“Hey there, Rachel Stone!”

Weighted down with loneliness and bone tired, Rachel was mounting the steps of her boardinghouse when she heard the greeting. The familiar, husky voice stopped her in her tracks and caused her heart to stumble. There was no way it could be who it sounded like, she thought, turning. But it was. Her mouth fell open in surprise.

Gabe Gentry, the handsome, younger Gentry son, was standing there. The same son who, if the rumors could be believed, had asked for his inheritance prior to his father’s death and left their hometown of Wolf Creek two years ago. If the gossipmongers were correct, he was busily running through the funds, chasing every good time he could find.

But Rachel believed that gossip was just bits and pieces of the truth often distorted and exaggerated as the tattletales passed the story around. She had a hard time believing he was as bad as everyone claimed, since her own experiences with him had been good ones.

He was attractive, friendly, fun loving and always pleasant, and she’d liked being around him. Of course, that might be because she had always had a bit of a “thing” for him, even though she was the elder by two years. Guilty or not, his reputation made him the kind of male who inhabited a young woman’s daydreams, and the kind parents prayed would give their daughters a wide berth.

While she was woolgathering, he stopped less than two feet from her and reached out to tap her chin with a gentle finger. Her mouth snapped shut.

“Cat got your tongue?” he asked, favoring her with a mischievous half smile.

Rachel stared into his dark blue eyes, willing steadiness to her trembling voice. “Gabe?” she said at last. “What are you doing here, and how did you find me?” she asked, still trying to come to terms with the fact that the man who had been the subject of too many of her youthful fantasies was standing on her doorstep.

He laughed, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his stylish trousers. “It really is a small world. Would you believe I ran into Buck Hargrove coming out of a restaurant last night? He’s here on some sort of railroad business, and while we were catching up on what’s been going on back home, he mentioned you were here studying to be a doctor. Since I don’t see too many folks from home traveling around the way I do, I thought I’d look you up.” He smiled, a rueful twist of his lips. “Never thought I’d admit it, but I’m a little homesick for Wolf Creek.”

“You could go back for a visit sometime, you know.”

Was it her imagination, or did a shadow cross his attractive face? “Yeah,” he said with a bright smile. “Maybe I’ll do that.”

He seemed uncomfortable for a moment then rallied. “So are you really going to be a doctor?”

“That’s the plan.”

“That’s unbelievable.”

“Why is it unbelievable? I thought everyone knew I wanted to follow in my father’s footsteps.”

“Yeah, but saying something like that and actually doing it... Maybe it’s so incredible because everyone thinks of medicine as a man’s line of work.”

She loved talking about her chosen field but felt strange trying to justify her decision standing in front of her rented rooms. “Would you like to come inside? Mrs. Abernathy usually has lemonade made, and I don’t think she’ll object if we sit in the parlor awhile.”

He looked indecisive for just a second, but then smiled and said, “I’d like that very much.”

Inside, Rachel fetched the beverage and some cookies, and they sat in the shabby parlor. Gabe looked out of place in his fine, tailor-made clothing, sitting among her landlady’s simple, worn furnishings.

Settled in a threadbare armchair, a glass of lemonade in hand, she asked, “Where were we?”

“You were about to tell me the woes of women entering medicine.”

“Oh, yes. The annoying part is the arrogance of the male students and even some of the professors. They make no secret that they think it’s utter folly for a woman to even think of entering their elite ranks.”

Her face took on a pompous expression. “Women are not mentally equipped to grasp the intricacies of the circulatory, lymphatic and muscular systems and they are far too delicate to deal with the sight of blood and innards,” she intoned.

Gabe threw back his head and roared with laughter. “They actually said that?” he asked when he’d regained his composure.

“Among other things.”

“And how are you doing with the blood and guts?”

“Actually very well. I have yet to faint at anything we’ve dealt with in the lab, which not all of them can say.”

“They don’t know you grew up around that sort of thing. I remember that you rescued every injured critter you came across.”

He remembered that? So did she. One time in particular came to mind. She’d been around fourteen and Gabe had helped carry home a dog that Luther Thomerson had beaten with his buggy whip.

“So tell me your plans,” he urged, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. All of his attention was focused on her. “Will you set up practice here in St. Louis?”

“Oh, no! I’d never be happy in a place so big and impersonal. I intend to help my father.”

“And waste your skills on folks who probably can’t pay for them?” he scoffed. “You could make a lot of money in a big city.”

“There’s more to life than money,” she told him, her expression earnest. “Those people need medical attention, too. My father gets a great deal of satisfaction helping those who need it.”

“You can’t live on satisfaction.”

Her passionate gaze sought his. “Perhaps not, but if we put God first, He’ll see to it we have what we need. I know it’s a cliché, but money really can’t buy happiness.” She placed a palm against her chest. “That comes from inside us. From knowing who we are, and what we stand for.”

“You really believe that, don’t you?” he said, his eyes filled with wonder.

“I know it’s true.”

He laughed again. “Well, money may not buy happiness,” he quipped, clearly uncomfortable, “but it certainly does a fine job of mimicking it.” He pulled the gold watch from his pocket. “I should be going. I don’t want to wear out my welcome.”

“Of course.” She stood, clasping her hands together, both sorry and relieved that he was going. As wonderful as it was to see him, he made her very uncomfortable. Rising, he set his glass on a nearby table. She followed him to the door and opened it, realizing that when he left he wouldn’t be back.

They stepped out onto the stoop, and Rachel extended her hand. His fingers curled warmly, excitingly around hers. Urging a smile, she said, “Thank you for stopping by. Like you, I miss seeing people from home.”

“I’ve enjoyed it, too.” He turned to go, but at the top of the steps, he came back, his eyes filled with indecision. “Would you like to have dinner tomorrow evening?”

For a heartbeat, Rachel wasn’t certain she’d heard correctly. She knew she should say no, but for the life of her could not bring to mind a good reason why. It was doubtless that she would see him after tomorrow, and she would at least have one brilliant memory to see her through the lonely months ahead. “I’d love to.”

He looked pleased, relieved. “About seven?”

“Fine.”

Before she realized what he meant to do, he brushed a kiss to her cheek and then ran lightly down the steps. Stunned by the unexpected gesture, she reached up and touched the place with her fingertips, wondering what it would be like to feel his lips touch hers.


Chapter One

Wolf Creek, Arkansas, 1886

Rachel stepped inside the medical office that was situated in the rear of the house she’d shared with her father and son since receiving her medical degree.

The rush of warm air from the fireplace was welcome after a cold drive in from the country. In a capricious mood, Mother Nature had dumped more than a foot of snow the night before, something rare in the southwestern part of the state.

She’d just come from the Gentry farm, where she had given Abby Gentry and her newborn son, Eli, a thorough examination. Baby Eli had been so eager to enter the world, there had been no time for his father to fetch help, forcing Caleb to help birth his son. Thankfully, mother and baby had come through the delivery with flying colors. Father was fine, too, but still a little shaky.

Breathing a weary sigh of satisfaction, Rachel set her medical bag on a nearby table and placed the quilt she’d used for added warmth on the seat of a straight-backed chair. She unwound the scarf from around her head and neck and shrugged out of her coat. Tossing them both over the back of the chair, she headed for the kitchen, where her son, Danny, and her father sat at the table near a rip-roaring fire, playing Chinese checkers.

“How are Abby and the baby?” Edward asked, with a smile of welcome.

“Just dandy,” Rachel assured him as she leaned down to give her son a welcoming hug. She was about to launch into the story of Caleb delivering the baby when a loud pounding came from the direction of her office. She gave a little groan. “I should have known better than to think I could spend the rest of the day baking cookies for Santa.”

“It’s part of the job,” Edward called as she retraced her steps to the office.

Danny, who followed her out of curiosity, pushed aside the lace curtains and peered out the window. “It’s Mr. Teasdale!” he cried, recognizing the peddler’s wagon. He brushed past Rachel to the door.

No doubt Simon was making a final tour of customers before Christmas to make sure they had everything they needed for the holiday. She wondered why he had come to the office entrance instead of the front and stood back while Danny flung open the door. Simon, whose fist was raised for another round of pounding, jumped.

“Simon,” she said, seeing the panic in his eyes, “what is it?”

“Oh, Doc,” he squeaked, his high-pitched voice quavering with emotion, “I was coming in from Antoine when I come upon this fella by the side of the road. His wallet was a few feet away, and it was empty. Looked like he’d been beat within an inch of his life. I was afraid to move him, but I wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, and I was more scared he’d freeze to death if I came to town for help, so I loaded him up.” The words tripped over themselves in their hurry to get out.

With no knowledge of how badly the victim was hurt, Rachel could only hope that Simon hadn’t done any additional damage by moving him.

“You did right, Simon,” she said, putting on her coat and following him to the back of the cart.

“Run get Roland,” she told Danny, who lost no time hurrying toward a small house down the way.

“I like to have never got him in the wagon,” Simon was saying. “And it took me more than two hours to get here. My Addie Sue is plumb wore down slogging through all that snow.” He unlatched the rear door and threw it open.

The man lay in the makeshift bed where Simon slept when it was impossible to make the next town at day’s end. The shadowy interior made it difficult to tell anything about the stranger except that he was big and tall.

“I’ll get the stretcher while we’re waiting for Danny,” she said.

In a matter of moments, Danny was back with Roland, the brawny teen who helped Rachel whenever and however she needed. “Let’s see if we can get him inside, so I can take a look at him.”

Working together, they carefully transferred the injured man onto the gurney and into the morning sunlight, where Rachel gave the stranger a quick once-over. Young. Strong. Bloody knuckles. He’d fought back. Good.

Her gaze moved to his face, and it suddenly became impossible to draw in a decent lungful of air. Every molecule of oxygen seemed to have been sucked into a vast void somewhere. Her head began to spin, and her heart began to race.

Despite the multiple bruises and the swelling and the blood still seeping from the jagged cut angling from his forehead through his left eyebrow and across his temple to just below his ear, and despite the fact that she had not seen him in more than nine years, she had no problem recognizing him.

It was none other than Gabe Gentry. Simon squeaked out his name in a shocked voice.

Gabe. As handsome as ever. She had traced those heavy brows and the bow of his top lip with her fingertips. She had felt the rasp of his whiskers against her cheek. Had...

Stop it!

Common sense returned, and a rush of fury and self-loathing banished the beguiling memories that jeopardized her hard-won detachment. Rachel’s jaw tightened and she felt the bite of her fingernails into her palms. She would have liked nothing more than to load Gabriel Gentry back into Simon’s wagon and order him to take the blackguard elsewhere, but she had taken an oath to heal, and as wretched as this man was, she was bound by her promise as a physician to do her best by him.

More to the point, and her consternation, it was her God-given duty as a Christian to do so.

Once she and Roland had transferred Gabe to the examination table, Simon said his goodbyes and went to see that his horse got a generous ration of oats while he went to Ellie’s café to see about getting some hot food in his belly. Roland stayed to help move Gabe to a proper bed after Rachel finished tending him.

She was alone with her patient when her father rolled his wheelchair into the room. The fact that he was using it, instead of the two canes he used to get around since the stroke, told her he’d done too much during the day.

“Good grief!” Edward murmured, rolling closer. “Unless I’m mistaken, that’s Gabe Gentry.”

“It is,” she said, pleased that her anger was manifested by nothing but the brusque reply.

“Do you need any help?” Edward asked.

“I will in a moment,” she told him.

Wielding the scissors with a rough carelessness, she cut away Gabe’s expensive coat and shirt. Deep purple bruises covered his chest. Her fingers began a gentle probing.

“Ouch!” Edward said, leaning in for a better look. “That’s going to be painful when he wakes up. Any broken ribs?”

“Two, at least,” she said, finishing her careful examination of his torso. “And his left arm, obviously.” Both of Gabe’s eyes were black. His perfect, straight nose was broken. When the dirt and blood were washed away, she straightened his nose and taped it into place.

“Who would do something like this to another human?”

“From what I’ve heard about his escapades since he left here, I imagine he’s made his share of enemies,” Rachel observed, as she began to cut away his trousers to check his lower body for injuries. They were minimal, just several nasty bruises.

“Boots?” Edward asked.

“I’d say so,” she concurred, thoughtfully. “That’s probably how the ribs were broken. He’ll spend a miserable few weeks,” she stated and felt a sudden rush of shame for the jolt of satisfaction that accompanied the thought. Her father’s puzzled expression told her that he, too, was wondering at the root of her animosity. Well, let him wonder. She had no intention of enlightening him. Not now. Not ever.

“Was he robbed?” Edward asked.

“Apparently. Simon said his empty wallet was lying a few feet from him.”

“Wasn’t there another robbery near Antoine a couple of months ago?”

“Yes,” she said, pulling a sheet over his lower body. “Can you reach the bandages?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll lift him upright if you can stand long enough to wrap him up.”

“I can,” Edward said, and they proceeded to bind the broken ribs.

“Do you think it was the same bunch, since Sheriff Garrett never caught the culprits?” he asked, as he tied off the ends of the bandage.

“Probably.”

“Do you need any help with the arm?”

“I can get it, thanks.” She splinted the arm and then poured a basin of water and began to wash the congealed blood from the gash on his face. It would leave an ugly scar.

“He’s going to need stitches,” she noted, staring dispassionately at the jagged wound, possibly made with a knife.

And how will your lady friends like that? I wonder.

Her teeth clamped down on her lower lip, and shame again swept through her at her uncharacteristic spitefulness. She felt angry and sick to her stomach and oddly depleted.

“Too bad,” Edward said. “He’s always been such a good-looking guy.”

Gabe was starting to move around by the time she finished stitching him up, so she gave him a draft of laudanum to help him sleep. Once she finished treating him, she and Roland settled Gabe in the downstairs bedroom she reserved for the occasional overnight patient.

“Do you know him?” Roland asked.

“It’s Gabe Gentry,” she said, pulling the quilts up to his chin.

“I sort of remember him from when I was a little kid. Didn’t he take off to see the world several years ago?”

“Yes.”

“I heard he made a name for himself with the ladies,” Roland said with a sly smile.

“So they say.”

Not really wanting to talk about Gabe’s past, whatever it might or might not include, she thanked Roland, paid him for his time and wished him a merry Christmas.

She was cleaning up the examination room when her father rolled to the doorway, where he sat watching her with an unreadable expression in his eyes. “Did I miss anything?”

“You did a splendid job, Rachel. You should know by now that you’re a fine doctor, and I’m very proud of you.”

Proud of her. She turned away so he wouldn’t see the tears that sprang into her eyes. How could he be proud of her after the humiliation and disgrace she’d brought to him and to the family name?

“Thank you,” she murmured, knowing she had to reply. With her emotions and her features under control, she said, “He should sleep for a while. If you don’t mind keeping an eye on him for an hour or so, I think I’ll try to do the same.”

Edward nodded. “If he needs you, I’ll call.”

“He won’t,” she retorted. “People like him don’t need anyone.”

* * *

Lying in her tousled bed, her forearm covering her eyes in a futile attempt to block the memories sweeping over her, Rachel gave a soft groan of anguish. She hadn’t expected to see Gabe in Simon’s wagon.

Indeed, since he hadn’t been back to Wolf Creek since leaving, she’d begun to think she’d never again set eyes on him. Being confronted with his very real presence had rekindled the feelings she’d experienced when he’d walked away from her without a second thought.

Shame suffused her. Because she’d been fool enough to discount the stories she’d heard about him, because he’d been sweet and made her laugh, and listened to her, she had made the biggest mistake of her life.

She was a self-sufficient woman who had gone alone to a big city and challenged tradition by daring to go into in a field dominated by men. She came from a loving home and had a solid Christian background. She should have known better than to let him into her heart, but she had been so lonely and homesick, and he brought back memories of easier, happier times. He made her feel smart and special and important.

She’d fallen in love with him. Believing that he loved her in return, she had indulged in her forbidden longings and given him everything his kisses demanded.

Three weeks later, he’d left her with nothing but a note for goodbye, a bleeding, aching heart and three weeks of memories that seemed sordid in light of his defection. She had faced the truth: Gabe Gentry was everything the gossips said he was and more. A liar, a cheat and a womanizer. Oh, certainly he was fun, friendly and he listened. And he used each and every one of those traits she’d been so enamored of against her. Sheltered and innocent, she hadn’t stood a chance. He’d worked at breaching her defenses until she’d given up and given in.

Like Eve, she’d been lured from the straight path. Overnight, Gabe went from being funny and charming to a handsome rogue endowed with more skill and cunning than any man she’d ever met.

She’d found out the hard way the lessons her parents had tried to instill in her. Sin was so tempting because it came wrapped in such an attractive, alluring package, all tied up with the subtle lie that it was not wrong, that it was all right...really.

Realizing how easily he’d deceived her set her to crying so hard and heavily she’d feared the tears would never stop. Eventually anger replaced her sorrow, anger that burned so hotly that it dried her tears. Anger at Gabe. Anger at herself.

She’d moved through the days, more alone and miserable than before, barely able to concentrate on her schooling. Unable to eat, she’d grown so thin and hollow-eyed that Mrs. Abernathy had urged her to see a physician.

“I regret to inform you that you’re expecting a child, Miss Stone,” the doctor had said, peering at her over the tops of his spectacles. He didn’t bother hiding his disapproval.

Rachel felt her heart plummet. Her already queasy stomach churned. Having a baby? Impossible! Having a baby was supposed to be a joyous occasion, not something that just...happened. And not to unmarried women. Babies were supposed to be the result of...of love.

She must have spoken, because the doctor stood.

“All I can tell you, Miss Stone, is that you are not the first young lady foolish enough to believe a man’s lies. I can just hope that you are not so imprudent as to make the mistake a second time.”

“B-but what am I going to do? My family...” She paused and swallowed hard.

“Will be devastated, I’m sure,” he’d told her, offering her not one iota of help or comfort. “Now, you should try to get as much rest as possible, and eat three healthy meals a day.”

She thought she might upchuck at the idea of eating three meals a day. “But I’m so sick, I can’t hold anything down.”

“Tut-tut!” he’d said, looking at her as if she were a strange organism under a microscope’s lens. “My wife was never sick a day during her confinements. I can assure you that you will not rid yourself of this child by vomiting it up. I strongly suggest that you accept your situation and start preparing for some significant changes to your life.”

She’d left his office vacillating between despair and fury. The man’s bedside manner was nonexistent! He was so uncaring he had no right to hang out his shingle. He was right about one thing, though. She had been very foolish. She’d thrown away her good name, turned her back on a lifetime of teaching and jeopardized her soul. All for three weeks of feeling cherished and loved by a man who’d lied to her about his feelings. Lied to her about everything.

A baby was to be her punishment for loving him.

Ever practical, she supposed it was no more than she deserved. Well, so be it. She pushed aside the panic nibbling at the edges of her composure. Despite her lapses in judgment, she was smart and possessed plenty of grit. She was handling medical school, and she could handle this, too—somehow.

She sat down with pen and paper and considered her options. The doctor had been right when he’d said her parents would be devastated and ashamed of her actions if they found out what she’d done, so she would take measures to see that they didn’t find out. That meant returning to Wolf Creek or asking for help from them was out of the question. She couldn’t afford to bring up a child and continue with her studies. The small allowance her father sent for her upkeep barely stretched from one month to the next.

Her only recourse was to have the child and put it up for adoption. Only then could she go home and try to put the whole thing behind her. The next months would be torture as she faced the stares and snide smirks she knew she’d receive from her fellow classmates, but it still seemed her best option.

She soon learned that life seldom went as planned. She was in the final month of her pregnancy when Sarah VanSickle, the biggest gossip in Pike County, happened to be visiting her sister in St. Louis and decided to pay Rachel an impromptu visit.

Rachel could still picture the jubilation in Sarah’s eyes as she’d swept her up and down with a knowing eye. The loathsome woman had wasted no time scurrying home to recount the news to not only Rachel’s parents, but everyone else in town.

It was little wonder that she gave birth to a baby boy the very day her father arrived to confront her about the rumors. Seeing the anguish in his eyes, knowing how deeply she’d disappointed him, she vowed that no amount of persuasion could tempt her to tell him who had fathered her child.

Though he was heartbroken over her actions, Edward Stone was as stubborn as his daughter. From the moment the baby was born, he began to campaign for her to keep him.

After two days of reasoning that sometimes bordered on outright coercion, she’d agreed. She and the son she named Daniel had stayed in St. Louis until she received her medical degree, something made possible when Edward upped his monthly stipend and arranged for Mrs. Abernathy to keep Danny while Rachel was in class. Only then was she forced to summon the courage to go back home and face the music.

Since Sarah had blabbed the news all over town, there was no way Rachel could pretend she’d married while she was away, and even if that had been an option, she wouldn’t have added lying to her sins. Instead, with her well-respected father at her side, she’d brazened out the whispers and cold shoulders with the same determination and dedication that had seen her through her schooling.

A week after arriving home, her mother died, and Rachel always felt at fault. A short time later, she’d found the courage to go back to church and seek God’s forgiveness.

Since then, she had worked alongside her father trying to earn back the respect and goodwill of the townsfolk. When Edward suffered a stroke two years ago, she’d taken on the bulk of his practice. Though there were a few who still regarded her as a fallen woman, for the most part she’d been restored into the town’s good graces.

To this day no one—not even her father—knew the identity of Danny’s father.

Now that man lay in her downstairs bedroom and there was nowhere to run from her past. She’d always believed God had a plan, that things happened for a reason and that He was in control. When Gabe had walked out on her after taking her innocence, she’d wondered what the Lord could possibly have been thinking by bringing them together. Now she wondered what on earth He could possibly have in mind by doing it again.

* * *

That afternoon, still weary and upset, Rachel decided that since sickness and accidents seemed to be taking a holiday, she would take her mind off of what she’d begun to think of as the situation and bake oatmeal cookies with Danny.

She knew she should drive out and tell Caleb his brother was back and seriously injured, but she didn’t want to talk about Gabe Gentry, didn’t want to waste one single moment even thinking about him. Therein lay the problem. All she’d done since she’d recognized him on the gurney was think about him.

She was reaching for a tea towel to take a batch of cookies from the oven when Danny asked, “Do you know that man, Mama?”

Rachel paused, halfway to the stove. Take a deep breath and answer him. After all, he was only exhibiting the natural curiosity of an eight-year-old.

“I knew him a long time ago,” she said, choosing her words with care. “But not very well, it seems.” It was the truth, after all.

“Pops said he’s Mr. Gentry’s younger brother.”

“That’s right.” One by one she lifted the hot cookies onto a stoneware platter with the egg turner. Mercifully, before Danny could ask another question, she heard someone knocking. Her father was dozing in his favorite chair, so there was no need to stop. He’d answer the door.

She heard the rumble of masculine voices, and in a matter of minutes Caleb entered the kitchen. “Caleb!” she said, surprised to see him.

“Edward told me it’s true,” he said, twisting his hat in his big work-roughened hands. His unusual silvery eyes were a dark, stormy gray.

“Yes.” Rachel gestured toward a chair at the table. “Have a seat. I’m sorry I didn’t come out and tell you, but it was a long morning, and I took a little rest.”

“No need,” Caleb said, stepping farther into the room but refusing to sit down. “Between Simon and Roland, the Wolf Creek grapevine is in prime working order. Sarah drove out about noon on the pretext of wanting to be the first to see Eli. Of course, she couldn’t wait to tell me the news.”

“After the way she slandered you and Abby, I can’t believe that woman would have the gall to even look you in the eye,” Rachel said with a bitter twist of her lips.

Caleb’s smile mimicked hers. “I warned her last year not to ever step foot on the place again, but I guess she decided facing my anger was a fair trade for the pleasure of being the first to tell me about Gabe. How bad is he?”

“Bad enough.” Rachel listed his injuries and Caleb winced.

“Can I see him?”

“Of course. I should check on him anyway. I’ve given him some laudanum, so he’s unconscious. It’s best if I keep him that way for a day or two, until he’s past the worst of the pain,” she said, preceding Caleb into the bedroom.

As he approached the bed, Rachel heard him draw in a sharp breath. He swallowed hard and looked up at her with an expression of horror. “His face...”

She nodded. “Whoever did this to him intended for him to remember it.”

Never one to show emotion, Caleb’s response was to turn and walk out of the room. In the hall, he hesitated, almost as if he wanted to say something and didn’t know how...or what.

“Would you like a cup of coffee and some cookies?” Rachel asked in a gentle voice. “They’re straight from the oven.”

“That would be nice,” he said. He followed her into the kitchen, where Edward was plopping out spoons full of dough, and pulled out a chair.

Rachel sent her father a silent message and Edward said, “Come on, Danny. It’s warmed up some, so let’s go outside awhile. I’ll sit on the porch while you make a snowman.”

Since he’d been begging to go out all day, Danny gave a shout of joy and bounded from the room.

“Bundle up!” Edward shouted to his retreating back, turning his chair and following.

When they were gone, Caleb said simply, “Thank you.”

Rachel sat down across from him. “You wanted to tell me something?”

He took a swallow of coffee. “I don’t know what I want. When I first heard Gabe was back, I intended to come here and give him a piece of my mind for walking out all those years ago and never once contacting us. That was before I saw how bad he is.”

He swallowed hard. A smart, self-educated man known for his toughness and an unyielding attitude, Caleb had softened a lot since marrying Abby Carter.

“Now I don’t know how I feel or what to say to him,” he confessed, rubbing a hand down his cheek. “Seeing him like that caught me off guard.” He gave another halfhearted smile. “It’s hard to summon up a lot of anger when someone is lying there battered and bleeding and can’t defend himself.”

She gave a half shrug. “True, I suppose, but there’s absolutely no excuse for him to not contact you all these years,” Rachel said before she could temper her tongue.

Caleb frowned at her animosity.

Realizing she’d let too much of her antagonism show, she took a calming breath. “You never really got along, did you?”

“No.” He ran his hand through his shaggy hair. “Well, that’s not exactly true. Actually, we never had much to do with each other. He was four years younger than me, and I was always expected to toe the line, get the work done. Lucas mostly let Gabe go his own way, so he never did much of anything that resembled work. When he asked for his inheritance, Lucas just up and gave it to him, and I was left to deal with everything here.”

“It must have seemed very unfair.”

Caleb’s short bark of laughter lacked true mirth. “In more ways than you can imagine. I guess it’s pretty obvious that Gabe was always the handsome one, the charming one, the one who could make everyone laugh. I was the drudge, the sensible one, the serious brother. Right or wrong, I always resented him for it.”

Caleb pinned her with a hard look. “Maybe I still do. It will be interesting to hear what kind of story he spins when he wakes up. I can’t imagine anything he could possibly say to make me feel different toward him, so he needn’t expect me to welcome him with open arms. In fact, once he gets better, I won’t mind seeing him leave town.”

It was quite a speech for the taciturn farmer. Knowing the feelings of her own heart, Rachel kept quiet.

Caleb lifted his gaze to hers. “I know the Bible says I should forgive him and let go of the past, but I don’t mind telling you I’m having a real hard time with this.”

Rachel offered him a wan smile. “Believe me,” she said. “I understand better than you think.”

* * *

That night, after checking on the patient, Rachel went into Danny’s room and sat on the side of the bed. Sweet, innocent little man, she thought, brushing the dark, wavy, too-long hair away from his forehead. Until today, she’d never realized just how much he looked like Gabe, probably because she had taken such pains to bury her memories of him.

With him now beneath her roof, that was impossible. She could only hope and pray that he mended soon so that he could be on his way, preferably, as Caleb suggested, out of town. She didn’t want Danny around Gabe any more than necessary.

Brushing her lips against her son’s forehead, she rose and went to join her father in the parlor.

“Everyone okay?” he asked, looking up from his book and peering at her over the tops of the glasses that lent his attractively lined face a professorial look.

“Everyone’s fine.”

Edward laid aside his book, and Rachel sat on the end of the sofa. “What about you?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you fine? You don’t seem so,” he said, tapping into his uncanny ability to see things beyond the surface. “You’ve been jumpy all day, and angry and...oh, I don’t know, maybe even sad. Would you like to tell me why?”

She crossed her arms across her chest. “No.”

“Well, then,” he said, “do you mind if I hazard a guess?”

Rachel gave him a narrow-eyed look. “Guess away,” she said with a nonchalance that did a reasonable job of masking her apprehension.

Edward tented his fingertips and regarded her for a few long seconds. She felt as if he could see into her very heart and soul, and that all the secrets she’d held so close were about to be exposed. He was no fool. Perception and spot-on intuition were two of Edward Stone’s greatest assets.

“In all your thirty-one years, I’ve never seen you the way you’ve been today. I’ve tried and tried to figure out what’s behind this hostility you have toward Gabe, especially since you never had much truck with him before he left town.”

“And have you come up with a reason?” she asked in a voice that, like her hands, trembled the slightest bit.

“I have.”

“And?” she asked, regarding him with a steady expression.

“The only thing that makes a woman act the way you have today is rejection. You know, the old ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.’” He looked her squarely in the eye. “I believe Gabe Gentry looked you up when you were in St. Louis. I believe he’s Danny’s father.”

An anguished cry escaped Rachel. How could he have figured it out just from her attitude? She felt a sob claw its way up her throat and pressed a fist to her mouth to hold it back.

“Oh, my dear!” Edward said in a tortured voice, rolling his chair over to her and putting a consoling hand on her shoulder. “How hard it must have been for you to keep that secret all this time.”

“I would never have told you,” she said as tears slipped down her cheeks. “Never.”

“I know that, you hard-headed, silly girl. Would you like to tell me about it? The abridged version, of course,” he asked with an awkward attempt at a smile.

Why not? Rachel thought. Perhaps if she told him how it had happened and how she’d felt, it would release some of the guilt and misery that had made her prickly and skeptical and robbed her of so much joy through the years.

“There isn’t much to tell,” she said almost thoughtfully. She told him how she’d come home from school and found Gabe at her boardinghouse. “I was so lonely and homesick, and it was so good to see a familiar face...” Her voice trailed away. “I invited him in and we had lemonade.

“As he was leaving, he asked me to dinner the next night and we spent every day together after I got home from school,” she said, allowing long-suppressed memories their freedom. “He brought me flowers from a street vendor, took me out to eat at fancy restaurants, bought me trinkets and told me all sorts of wonderful, fantastic stories of the places he’d been and hoped to go.”

Her tears ran freely as the memories continued to tumble out. “He teased me, and it was—” she gave a huge hiccuping sob “—so nice to laugh. Every evening, he insisted I tell him about what I’d done and what I’d learned. He was just so encouraging, both about my studies and...just everything. I told him all about my dearest hopes and dreams.”

She took the handkerchief Edward offered, mopped at her eyes and blew her running nose.

“He made me believe that all of those hopes and dreams could come true. I fell in love with him,” she said, summing everything up in those few words. “I’m sure you can figure out the rest.”

“I think I understand,” Edward said when she ran out of words. “Your upbringing gave you little or no defense. You had no idea how to guard your heart. So tell me why he left. Did you quarrel?”

Rachel shook her head. “Nothing like that. I thought things were going along just fine. And then I came home from school one day, and he’d left a note with Mrs. Abernathy that said a friend had caught up with him and talked him into taking a paddle wheeler to New Orleans. It was supposed to be great fun, and he’d always wanted to go there. He said the next time he was in town, he’d look me up and we’d go to dinner.”

“That’s it?” Edward said, with a look of disbelief.

“Oh, no. He said it had been a fun few weeks and that he’d never forget me.”

She laughed, but there was no joy in the sound. “I was so ashamed,” she said in an anguished whisper. “I’d ruined my whole life. That was bad enough, but when I found out I was going to have a baby, I was terrified. I thought I’d figured out a way that no one would ever find out. Then Sarah showed up and sent all my plans tumbling down.”

Tears spilled down Rachel’s cheeks. “I know bearing my shame was hard for you and Mother, especially after I came home, and I know my actions are what brought on her death, but I want to thank you for never once throwing it back in my face and for...for making me...k-keep Danny.” She choked on another sob.

Edward gave her hand an awkward pat. “Your mother had a heart condition, Rachel. Her health had been going downhill for more than a year. Her passing so soon after you came back was just an unfortunate coincidence. She loved you and she adored Danny.”

He smiled. “And as for that young scamp, I hope I didn’t make you do anything. I hope I just encouraged you to do what you really wanted. I know you well, my precious girl, and I don’t believe you’d have been able to live with yourself if you’d given him up. And selfishly, I couldn’t bear the thought of strangers bringing up my flesh and blood—or worse, him being put into an orphanage and never knowing the joys of real family. He’s a delight, Rachel. I can’t imagine life without him.”

“Neither can I.”

“Besides,” he added, “I’ve never been one to think that two wrongs make a right.”

For long moments, the fire popped and crackled while Rachel worked at regaining her composure.

“What do you plan to do now?” Edward asked, at last.

“Do? About what?”

“Gabe. How do you feel about him after all this time?”

“Nothing,” she snapped. “I plan to do nothing and I feel nothing but anger toward him. I hope and pray that he’ll leave town again as soon as he’s able, which will suit me just fine.”

“And if he doesn’t? It will certainly be a test, won’t it? How long do you think it will take before he figures things out?”

Rachel’s face drained of color. “What are you saying?”

There was no compromise in Edward’s eyes. “You need to tell Gabe the truth. Danny, too.”

Her horrified gaze met his. “I can’t!”

“Listen to me, Rachel. You need to tell Danny before someone else sees the resemblance and starts spreading it around town. Believe me, as hard as it may be, he’ll be much better off hearing the truth from you than someone else. They both will.”


Chapter Two

Christmas Eve morning dawned crisp and cold. Just as dawn was breaking, Rachel rose from the cot beside Gabe’s bed and lit the lamp.

He had rested well in his laudanum-induced sleep, but she had not been so blessed. Sleep had eluded her, as thoughts and recollections tumbled round and round in her mind like colorful fragments in a kaleidoscope. Besides a jumble of troubling memories, her mind replayed the conversation with her father again and again.

She couldn’t believe how light her heart felt since sharing the secret she’d carried alone for so long. Who would have thought that something that seemed so small could weigh so heavily on a heart? She would be eternally grateful that her father’s love and support had not wavered, even after learning the truth.

She knew Edward was right about telling Danny about Gabe, yet the very thought of doing so filled her with dread. How would she find the words? What would Danny say...and think?

She stoked the dying fire and went to see how Gabe was doing, busying herself with changing his bandages and checking his temperature. Her ministering seemed to agitate him, and he began to move about. When she tried to restrain him, he cried out and opened his eyes. Thankfully she saw no recollection there, no wicked, teasing gleam, nothing but agony. The doctor in her wanted him to be pain free and improve under her care; the woman in her shrank from the moment he would open his eyes and look up at her with recognition.

What would he see when he awakened? What would he think when he saw her for the first time in nine years? She turned toward the mirror hanging above the washstand, drawn to it like a June bug to the light. Her reflection wavered in the flickering light of the oil lamp.

She stared at herself for long moments and then, womanlike, rubbed at her forehead with her fingertips as if she could massage away the few slight creases she saw there, lines etched by her deep concern for her patients.

Exposure to the elements in all sorts of weather had tanned her face and hands despite the bonnet she wore, and squinting against the sun had left tiny lines at the corners of her eyes. Despite regular treatments of lemon juice, a faint spattering of freckles dotted her nose.

Age and Danny’s birth had added a few pounds, but according to her father, it was weight she needed. Strangely, her face was thinner than it had been nine years ago, refined by age and life.

She had no illusions. She no longer looked twenty-two. Shouldering the responsibilities that went hand in hand with the demands of her father’s practice had taken its toll on her in many ways.

Mirror, mirror on the wall, would Gabe still think her fair at all?

Would he even recognize her? What would he say? What would she? Would he be the shocking flirt she recalled, or would he be filled with contrition?

Telling herself she was a fool for wasting so much as a thought on him, she went back to the bed and dabbed some antiseptic to the cut on Gabe’s face.

As she tended to his needs, her mind turned to Caleb’s ambivalent feelings about his brother’s return. She could relate to them only too well. Like Caleb, and even though she knew that not to pardon Gabe jeopardized her own forgiveness, she couldn’t imagine any scenario that would make her feel differently about the man who had taken everything she had to give and walked away as if it meant nothing to him.

Then why are you having such contradictory thoughts about him?

She had no answer for that.

Satisfied that he was fine for the moment, she went to the kitchen, rekindled the fire in the stove and filled the coffeepot. While she waited for the stove to get hot enough to start breakfast, she opened her Bible. Instead of reading, she flipped the pages until she found the pressed petunia she’d placed there. A gift from Gabe, plucked from Mrs. Abernathy’s flower bed and tucked behind Rachel’s ear when they’d returned from a walk. “A memento of this evening.”

She could picture the half-light of dusk, could almost hear the sounds of children playing and smell the sweet scent of the petunias dancing in the breeze. Felt again the light brush of his lips against hers. A small, impromptu gesture was so like him. She planned. Gabe lived for the moment.

Impatient with her unruly thoughts, she slammed her Bible shut and began to slice the bacon, placing the strips into the cold cast-iron skillet. Gathering the ingredients for buttermilk biscuits, she measured and mixed flour, salt and leavening and started working the lard into the flour with her fingertips, finding comfort in the simplicity of the everyday task.

Seeing that the stove was hot, she set the skillet of bacon over the heat. After adding just the right amount of buttermilk, she pinched off a biscuit-size piece of dough and deftly rolled the edges under to make it reasonably smooth and round. Placing it into the greased pan, she made a dimple in the center with her knuckle.

Danny, his dark hair standing on end and covering a yawn, came into the kitchen as she was filling the slight indentations with a small dollop of extra lard, just the way her mama had done.

“Good morning,” she said, sliding the pan into the oven.

“Morning.”

She wiped her hands on a wet cloth and sighed as she watched him pour a splash of coffee into a tin cup and fill it to the brim with milk and two spoons full of sugar. He’d started having morning “coffee milk,” as he called it, when Edward had started sharing his own sweetened brew. When she’d questioned the wisdom of the action, Edward had assured her that it was more milk than anything else and maintained it was fine; it hadn’t hurt her, had it?

Grandparents! she thought, lifting the crispy strips of bacon onto a platter. If she didn’t remain vigilant, no telling how Edward would spoil Danny. But how could she deny him his little indulgences when he had taken on a very special role in Danny’s life? Not only was he the child’s grandfather, he’d been the closest thing to a father as he was ever likely to know.

Until now.

With her father’s words ringing through her mind, Rachel searched her son’s face for anything that might give away his paternity. He definitely had Gabe’s long, lush eyelashes, as well as the slant of his eyebrows. The dimple in Danny’s chin would be a dead giveaway as he grew closer to manhood and his jawline firmed the way his father’s had.

His father. Rachel stifled a groan. How could she not think of him when he lay just down the hall? Resolutely, she opened a jar of red plum jam one of her patients had given her in lieu of payment for stitching up a nasty cut.

“Are you excited about going to the Gentrys’ tomorrow?” she asked Danny as she smoothed down the recalcitrant “rooster tail” sticking up from the crown of his dark head.

He nodded, his eyes bright. “I made a present for baby Eli.”

“Really? What did you make?”

“Roland gave me some old cedar shingles and helped me drill some holes on one edge so I could put some leather laces through them. I painted Ben’s, Betsy’s and Laura’s names on them with different colors. I made one for Eli yesterday. I thought Miss Abby could hang it on the end of his cradle.”

“That was very sweet of you, Danny.”

“I made some for the Carruthers kids, too,” he said. “I thought they could hang them on the wall above their beds.”

“I’m sure everyone will love them,” she said, marveling as she often did at what a thoughtful child he was.

Feeling blessed to have him, she peeked at the biscuits. “Almost done,” she announced. “How many eggs do you want?”

“Two,” he said promptly. “Soft.”

“I’ll have two, myself,” Edward said from the doorway.

“Coming right up,” Rachel said, reaching for the brown crockery bowl that held the eggs she bought from a lady in town.

“I’ve been thinking about tomorrow,” she said, cracking the first egg into the sizzling bacon grease.

As they had the previous year, the Stones had planned to have their Christmas meal with the Gentrys and Caleb’s former in-laws, the Emersons. “Why don’t I stay here with Gabe and you and Danny go to Abby and Caleb’s?”

“Absolutely not!” Edward told her. “You and Danny go, and I’ll stay here with Gabe. You can bring me back a plate.”

“It will be stone cold in this weather,” she argued.

“Then we’ll warm it up in the oven. Really, Rachel, you go. It’s a special day for Danny, and it’s seldom you get much uninterrupted time with him. Besides, it will give you the opportunity to check on Abby and the baby.”

He had a point. Rachel put the first two eggs onto a plate and set it in front of him. The hot biscuits and a bowl of fresh-churned butter were placed on the table next to a platter of bacon. She looked from the determination in her father’s eyes to the hopeful expression in Danny’s. “If you’re sure...” she said. “We’ll be gone most of the day.”

“I’m sure. Gabe is stable, and I think I can handle anything that comes up during that short time. Besides—” he shot a smile toward Danny “—I can read that new book on Italy you’re giving me for Christmas.”

“Edward Stone!” Rachel cried, her eyes widening in disbelief. “How do you know you got a book about Italy?”

Edward’s eyes twinkled. “Never tell an eight-year-old anything you don’t want repeated.”

Rachel pinned her son with a familiar, narrow-eyed look. “You little rascal!” she said. “Christmas presents are supposed to be a secret.”

“I didn’t exactly tell him,” Danny hedged, slathering a biscuit with butter. “He just asked me a buncha questions and sorta guessed.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Rachel said, trying to fix her father with that same stern look and failing as her mouth began to twitch with the beginnings of a smile. It was no secret that when it came to Christmas and secrecy, Edward Stone was a total failure.

“You’re as bad as he is,” she charged. “Worse. At least he’s just a child.”

Stifling a smile, Edward said, “It’s settled, then. You and Danny are going. Now don’t you need to see to those eggs?”

* * *

With the cookies all baked, Rachel spent the day stirring up pumpkin pies and an apple cake liberally laced with raisins and the black walnuts she and Edward had cracked and painstakingly picked out.

Finished with the baking, she and Danny loaded up their goodies and made deliveries to the Carruthers family and a widow or two who had a hard time making ends meet.

By the time their visits were over and they’d finished the evening meal, she was pleasantly weary. The day had been so busy that at times she was able to forget the man lying in the bedroom down the way. Danny helped with the dishes, and they were getting ready to begin their yearly Christmas Eve ritual when an agonized cry came from Gabe’s room.

Tossing her dish towel onto the table, Rachel ran toward the sound, throwing the door open against the wall in her haste.

Gabe lay on his back, just as he had been, but as she neared the bed she realized that he was fully awake. His eyes were shadowed with pain that became stunned disbelief as he struggled to raise himself up to his uninjured elbow.

“Rachel?” His voice was deep and husky, as if he were getting over a bad sore throat. Looking to blame him for everything, she’d often thought that his voice was the first weapon he’d used in his insidious assault on her senses. Now, even in her concern, she imagined she heard a hint of wonder in his voice.

“Lie still,” she commanded, placing a restraining hand against his shoulder. Offering him no time to formulate a reply, she continued, “What on earth were you thinking trying to get up? You might have injured yourself worse than you already are.”

Ever professional even in her irritation, she placed gentle, questing fingers against his bound ribs. “Does it hurt?” she asked, unaware that the question was somewhat silly under the circumstances. She just wanted to get him easy again and steer clear of the feelings churning inside her now that they were face-to-face.

Despite the pain and grogginess reflected in his eyes, he attempted a smile that more resembled a grimace. “Only when I breathe.”

Nothing had changed, she thought. Still quick with a smile and a glib reply.

“Do you remember what happened?”

A spasm of pain crossed his features. “A couple of guys jumped me between here and Antoine. How did I get here?”

All business, she leaned over him to check the bandage on his head. “Simon Teasdale found you and brought you to me.”

She stepped back and allowed her gaze to roam his face. As she had, he’d aged and looked older than the twenty-nine she knew him to be. But, as it seemed with most men, he’d done it better. Maturity had firmed the boyish softness of his jaw and chin as she knew it would Danny’s, making it more sharply defined and making his resemblance to Caleb more pronounced, though Gabe would always be the handsomer of the two.

He, too, had a tanned face with crinkly lines at the corners of his eyes, but she knew from past experience that these lines would not have come from worry or the elements but laughter as he pursued countless pleasures. He was still disturbingly handsome and she suspected the inevitable scar he would carry would only add to his aura of mystery and danger. That thought awakened her slumbering anger.

“Did you know them?”

He gave a slight shake of his head. “They had bandannas. I won a lotta...money from a couple guys in a poker game...Little Rock.” He made another pitiful attempt to smile. “Guess they wanted it back.”

She dabbed at the still-seeping gash on his head with a piece of cotton wool saturated with peroxide. His hiss of pain gave her far more satisfaction than it should have.

“Simon did find your wallet nearby, and it was empty, but if it was someone from Little Rock, why would they wait so long to attack you?”

His eyes looked troubled. “Guess I’m not...thinking straight. Feel like...death warmed over.”

“As well you should. You have broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder, which will be pretty painful while it heals. You have a possible concussion. There’s a cut on your scalp and another on your cheek that will probably leave a nasty scar.”

He attempted a shrug that elicited another grunt of pain.

“You need to go back to sleep,” she told him, feeling a sudden, unexpected and annoying rush of sympathy.

“How long have I been here?” he asked, once more speaking through clenched teeth.

“Since yesterday morning.”

She could almost see his fuzzy mind trying to calculate what day it was. “So it’s...”

“Christmas Eve.”

“I’d hoped to be home for Christmas.”

The confession surprised her. Home? He’d meant to come back to Wolf Creek?

Of course he was coming home. Why else would he have been between Wolf Creek and Antoine?

“Why? Why now, after all this time?”

Without thinking, she blurted out the question that leaped into her mind, even though she knew that he was in no condition for the battle she felt brewing.

“To try to...fix things...with Caleb.”

No wish to try to make amends with her. “Caleb knows you’re here, and frankly, he wasn’t exactly overjoyed about it.” She started to turn away, and his good hand reached out and grabbed hers.

“And you, Rachel?” he asked, as she stared down at the fingers that manacled her wrist. “I know how I left was...wrong. I’m sorry.”

So he did want to make things right with her. The knowledge gave her no satisfaction; it only stoked her anger. “Why should I believe your contrition is genuine, Gabe? You once told me a lot of things, all of them lies. Why should I believe this sudden change of heart is any different? And your behavior wasn’t just wrong. It was contemptible!”

She knew that her tirade was inappropriate and unprofessional, and that the fury consuming her was no doubt reflected in her face and in her voice, which shook as badly as her hands. He was in pain from numerous injuries. It was neither the time nor the place to confront him, but the dam that had held back her pain for so many years had burst, and she could not seem to stop the words that spewed from her like lava from a volcano.

“Did you really think you could just waltz into town and expect everyone to welcome you with open arms? Did you think that maybe Caleb would be so overjoyed by the prodigal’s return that he would trot out the fatted calf? Guess what, Gabe, this is real life, not a Bible story, and I don’t see any happy endings in sight!”

He looked stricken by her outburst. She didn’t care. She wanted him to know he had behaved despicably. Wanted him to know the pain she’d suffered. She even hoped the knowledge of what he’d done added to his own pain.

His grip relaxed and he allowed her to pull free. She stared at him, but his eyes gave away nothing of what he was feeling.

“Mama?” Danny spoke from the doorway.

Trembling as if she had the ague, she turned. “What is it, Danny?” she asked in a far harsher tone than she’d intended and he was accustomed to.

The child looked from her to the man in the bed, his eyes wide with uncertainty. “Pops wanted me to see if everything is all right.”

“Tell him everything’s fine,” she said in a softer voice.

She kept her gaze studiously on her son, who looked shocked by the side of his mother he’d never seen. She wished she could call back her heated words. No. Gabe Gentry deserved her anger. She only wished Danny hadn’t heard. “Mr. Gentry is just in a lot of pain at the moment.”

“But you were mad at him,” Danny said, sensing there was more than she was saying. Like his grandfather, he was prone to probe until his curiosity was satisfied.

“Only because he tried to get out of bed,” she fibbed, casting a quick glance at Gabe, whose eyes were now shut. “He might have hurt himself worse.”

“Oh.”

Once more, Danny looked from one adult to the other before backing out the door, leaving Rachel alone with her patient, who stared at her with no visible expression. Why didn’t that surprise her? The celebrated Gabriel Gentry would never see his actions as despicable.

“I’ll get you some medication,” she told him, wanting nothing more than to escape him.

“I don’t want it,” he said, his jaw set in a stubborn line. “I want...to get up...awhile.”

“There’s no way you can–”

“It’s Christmas Eve,” he interrupted, his voice rough with his own anger and something she couldn’t put a name to. “Help me to...a chair. I’ll be...okay for a while.”

“Fine,” she snapped. “I’ll let you sit up, but only if you let me give you a little something.”

He looked as if he would like to argue further, but nodded. She turned toward the door. “Where are you going?”

“To get Pops’s wheelchair.”

“Rachel,” he said, the sound of his voice stopping her. She turned.

“I had no idea you had a son.”

She stiffened but managed a twisted smile. “What did you expect, Gabe? That I would carry a torch for you forever?”

For once in his life, Gabe had no witty comeback.

* * *

After a lot of moaning and groaning, Rachel got Gabe into one of her father’s robes and settled into the wheelchair with a quilt over his legs. Then she rolled him to the kitchen, where he picked at a bowl of beef stew he didn’t want while trying—without much success and despite the small dose of laudanum she’d forced on him—to ignore the various excruciating pains throbbing throughout his body. It irritated him that she’d been right. He should have stayed in bed.

When the simple meal was finished, he was rolled into the parlor, where he sat watching as the Stones went through their Christmas Eve celebration. His muddled thoughts bounced around from one topic to the next.

When he’d awakened, he remembered how he’d come to be in so much agony but had no idea where he was. He’d chosen not to call for help, instead enduring long pain-filled moments as he struggled to sit up with a shoulder that felt on fire and a rib cage that felt as if someone had taken a club to it. No. Not a club. Boots.

When he’d seen Rachel standing beside the bed, he’d thought she was an illusion, and his reaction had been profound pleasure. It hadn’t taken long to realize that she was very real and that she did not share his happiness at being reunited.

She was right, he thought as he watched her with her family. He’d treated her worse than terribly. He remembered their short few weeks together as good ones even though she was nothing like the women he usually spent time with.

She was very smart, which was a little intimidating, as was her desire to become a doctor and settle down in Wolf Creek. His greatest goal was to see as much as he could while his money held out. There was plenty of time to worry about what he would do with his life after he finished seeing the world.

It was years before he’d come to grips with the reality that the lifestyle he’d chosen when he left home had lost its luster and that his interest in aimless pursuits had declined dramatically. He’d begun to feel as if he were living in a world of make-believe, while somewhere out there people led real and meaningful lives.

Comprehension led to months of reflection and careful examination of his upbringing and the life he’d tried so hard to leave behind. He’d realized that the void he’d felt in his heart since the day his mother abandoned him and his brother could not be filled with laughter and joking, senseless reveling or meaningless relationships. All attempts to do so had been futile, masking, but never filling, the emptiness.

He’d been left with the sobering realization that his entire life was nothing but an effort to escape the pain that gnawed at him every moment of every day and could not be assuaged by any thrill, pleasure or sinful indulgence known to man. He’d accepted the truth that there was no escaping the past or how it shaped the person you became. At some point you had to come to terms with that, both the good and the bad.

Then one day in Atlanta almost a year ago, he’d been strolling through a park and heard a woman laugh, laughter filled with such undiluted joy that it triggered an unexpected, long-forgotten memory of Rachel. The moment was sharply poignant. In those few out-of-time seconds, he’d been struck with the sudden conviction that he’d had something rare within his grasp and thrown it away.

Over the next few weeks, memories of their time together drifted through his mind with the sweetness of springtime scents on a subtle breeze: Her affirmation that money was not the important thing for happiness, which he’d scoffed at and now knew was true. Her serious, unwavering dedication when mocked for daring to brave entrance to a profession dominated by men. Her willingness to dedicate herself to a life that was not necessarily conducive to her own well-being, but to the well-being of others.

Longing for something he couldn’t put into words, he’d begun to wonder if there was redemption for him out there somewhere. If so, he knew he’d have to start in Wolf Creek, the place where his life had first begun to unravel. There, he’d hoped to find new direction and a new purpose for his life, though he had no idea what that might be or how to go about finding it.

Now, sitting in the Stones’ parlor while Edward read the story of baby Jesus from the Bible, he wanted to ask Rachel if he could sit in the parlor the next morning and watch the gift opening. Thanks to his mother’s leaving and his father’s indifference, he and Caleb had never known what these three people shared. Christmas was just another day. Lucas’s only concession to the holiday had been a traditional meal because he liked showing off to some of his friends.

Gabe longed just once to experience what a real Christmas should be, but Rachel had made it clear that the less she had to do with him the better, and he had no wish to disrupt their day. The solemn sounds of their prayer, and their happy, laughing voices as they joked and teased each other, brought about a pang of regret so painful that his heart hurt almost as badly as his physical injuries.

The desire to have that kind of love and the knowledge that he had willfully ruined any chance of experiencing it with Rachel was overwhelming in its intensity. The woman he now knew was the most important person to come into his life had made it clear that she had not forgiven him and was not likely to.

He couldn’t blame her. She was right. He had used her—not deliberately, perhaps—but she’d been there and they’d both been willing. In his mind she was no different from other girls he’d spent time with. Except, of course, she was very different.

Filled with an incredible sorrow for what he’d tossed away, Gabe blinked back the unmanly sting of tears. Tears were a luxury he had not allowed himself since the day he’d come home and been told that his mother had left for a new life in Boston...a life that was more important to her than her husband or her sons.

Funny how history repeated itself. For all intents and purposes, he’d done to Rachel exactly what his mother had done to him and his brother.

* * *

Christmas morning dawned bright and cold. Rachel slipped into Gabe’s room to stoke the fire in his fireplace, stunned to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, as upright as possible. A blanket covered his legs. He clutched a shirt in his fists. He was trembling and sweat dripped down his face despite the chill of the room. A basin of soapy water sat on the stand next to the bed. He’d given himself a sponge bath and was trying to get dressed. He looked near to passing out from the effort.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She shook her head. Stubborn, stubborn man.

“Getting dressed,” he told her in a terse tone. Knowing how she felt about him, he couldn’t bear being near her any longer than was absolutely necessary, so he’d forced himself to the limit to make her believe he was feeling better than he really was.

“Why didn’t you ring for help?”

“It wasn’t necessary.” Despite the medicine still dulling his senses and the pain racking his body, he made his voice as crisp and no-nonsense as hers.

“How do you feel?”

His blue eyes roamed over her, as restless as the wind tossing the tree branches outside the window. “I’ll live.”

“I certainly hope so,” she said, going to the fireplace. She removed the screen and placed a couple of slivers of pine knot and a couple of logs on the bed of coals. He needed to get warm.

“Do you?”

The simple question fell into the silence of the room. Moving with extreme care, she set the screen back in place.

“Of course I do.” She went to the bed and set about changing the bandages on his head and face, probing his swollen shoulder and making a swift examination of his bruised chest.

“Can you bring me some hot water?” he asked. “My sponge bath was a bit chilly, and I’d like to shave and clean my teeth. Maybe I’ll feel a bit more human.”

She pressed her lips together to keep from saying something to antagonize him. It was too soon for him to be doing so much. “I’m not sure you can—”

“I’ll manage.”

The determined angle of his chin brooked no argument.

* * *

When she returned twenty minutes later, Gabe stood at the shaving stand, his mouth set in a grim line of agony. She didn’t know how he’d managed to do all he’d done or why he wasn’t passed out on the floor. He was dressed in the clean clothes she’d brought him and had somehow buttoned the shirt over the arm that was held against his chest by the sling. The unused sleeve hung loose. He’d shaved what he could of the stubble shadowing his face, but not without leaving a few oozing nicks here and there. He made no comment about the ugly wound that marred his lean cheek.

Placing the straight-edge razor on the stand, he met her gaze in the mirror. “You don’t know how badly I hate to ask this of you, but would you mind washing my feet? I couldn’t get below the knees.”

Her eyes widened. The simple request, one she’d done countless times for other patients, caught her off guard. Taking care of their needs was her duty as a physician and caretaker, but she didn’t want to do any more for Gabe Gentry than was absolutely necessary.

As soon as the thought entered her mind, she felt a familiar wave of shame wash over her. Where was her compassion for this man who might well have died if Simon hadn’t found him when he had? Where was her Christian charity? She was a good doctor who had never backed away from a challenge or shirked her responsibilities.

Without a word, she picked up the basin of cooling water, placed it on the floor and knelt beside it, going about her task with quick efficiency and reminding herself that serving his needs while he was injured was not only her duty as a physician; it was her duty as a Christian.

As she worked, the story of Jesus, sinless, perfect, washing His apostles’ feet slipped into her mind. She concentrated on her task so that Gabe wouldn’t see how near she was to tears.

By nature she was a caring person. She knew she couldn’t continue to harbor this soul-destroying resentment, but she seemed unable to free herself from it. Could she find a way to set aside the hostility that had taken hold of her the day he’d destroyed her love with his callous dismissal?

She sighed as she pulled a heavy pair of woolen socks onto his feet. She didn’t know. But she knew that if she was ever to be the person the Lord expected her to be she had to try a lot harder.

* * *

Gabe heard the sigh and watched as she stood and picked up the basin of water to set it on the shaving stand.

“I’ll bring you some breakfast a bit later,” she told him, gathering the soiled laundry. “Danny will want to open his gifts first.”

“That’s fine. I’ll just rest until then.”

He started to lower himself in gradual increments, using his workable arm and clenching his teeth against the pain. Rachel was beside him in an instant, her arms around his shoulders to help ease him to the pillows. She was strong, he thought, as she lifted his legs to the bed and spread a double layer of quilts over him. Stronger than she looked. He didn’t know why that should be such a surprise, but it was.

Gabe waited for the screaming pain in his ribs to subside to a dull, throbbing ache. Many things about Rachel surprised him. She was older, but no less beautiful than he remembered. She’d gained some much-needed weight, which only added to the femininity she tried to hide beneath her tailored, no-nonsense wardrobe. The intriguing scent of magnolia blossoms still clung to her.

What surprised him most was that she was no longer the shy woman who’d had trouble carrying on a conversation unless it was a topic she felt passionately about. Her worshipful eyes no longer followed his every move and she certainly didn’t hang on to every word he spoke, as she once had.

She was a woman, not a girl. She was a devoted daughter. She was a mother. She was a professional with long-standing ties to the community, successfully crossing the threshold of a field most women were afraid to enter. That alone made her exceptional.

“You must be in terrible pain after moving around so much. Would you like a bit of medication now?”

Was that actual compassion he heard in her voice? He clenched his teeth together and met her gaze steadily. “No, thank you. I’ve seen too many people get addicted to it. I’ll just tough it out.”

“I’m only giving you small doses, and I don’t think you’re in jeopardy of addiction at this point. Toughing it out isn’t really a good idea.”

Somehow he managed a derisive smile. “A lot of things I’ve done haven’t been good ideas, but that never stopped me, did it?”

Rachel stared at him for several seconds then scooped up the laundry and left him without another word. Let him hurt. It wasn’t her problem. Except, of course, that it was. The very thought of the pain he must be suffering went against everything she stood for and left her feeling undeserving of her calling. Unfortunately, some people had to learn the hard way.

* * *

As planned, Rachel and Danny went to Caleb and Abby’s at midmorning so that Danny could play with the Gentry children and Rachel could help Mary, Caleb’s former mother-in-law, with the last-minute meal preparations, since Abby was still confined to bed.

Rachel made the visit double duty, examining mother and baby and concluding they were both fine, at which Abby declared she was able to get up long enough to eat her Christmas meal with the family. Like Gabe, she would not be deterred.

Abby loved the little signs Danny had made. Caleb tied the leather cords to the end of the crib while Danny watched with pride. The other children, too, were happy with their name signs, and Caleb promised to hang them at the heads of their beds before nightfall. Though he had no talent for building things from wood, he did dabble with whittling and had fashioned a stunning replica of a Colt pistol for his children to give to Danny. Each of them had taken turns putting a coat of shellac on it.

When the dishes were done, Rachel and Mary Emerson put the little ones down for naps. The men went to the parlor, where Rachel suspected there might be as much afternoon dozing as dominoes and conversation. The older children played with their new toys while Mary Emerson supervised, giving Rachel and Abby time for some uninterrupted “woman talk.”

Rachel cut two pieces of pumpkin pie, poured two mugs of coffee and went to Abby’s bedroom, to find her once again propped up in bed.

“Thank you,” she said, as Rachel handed her the pie and set the mug of coffee on a bedside table. “It’s been a lovely day, hasn’t it?”

“It has,” Rachel agreed. “And you got the best Christmas present of all, albeit a couple of days early.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Abby said with a smile, glancing at the baby all snug in his cradle. She took a bite of pie and washed it down with a sip of coffee.

“What does Caleb think of Eli now that he’s here and you’re both well?” Rachel asked.

Since Caleb’s first wife had died in childbirth the previous winter, Caleb had been terrified when Abby told him she was expecting his child.

“He’s beside himself with happiness—and pride,” she said with a satisfied grin.

“Well, his fear was certainly understandable,” Rachel said.

“I agree.”

“You’re happy, aren’t you, Abby?” Rachel asked, unaware of the wistful note in her voice.

“I am.” There was no denying her contentment. “I loved William, but what I felt for him pales in comparison to what I feel for Caleb.”

“I’m really happy for you.”

Abby reached out a hand to her friend. “Don’t look so sad. There’s someone out there for you. Don’t ever doubt that.”

“Do you really think so?”

“I know so.” Abby’s eyes brightened at a sudden thought. “What about Gabe?”

“What about Gabe?” she asked with a lift of her dark eyebrows.

“As a potential husband, goose! If you married him we’d be sisters-in-law.”

Rachel felt the color drain from her face, felt the stiffness in her cheeks as she forced a smile. “Thank you but no thank you,” she said. “Gabriel Gentry is not the marrying type.”

“You sound very sure of that.”

“Haven’t you heard the gossip?”

Abby nodded. “Caleb’s told me everything about Gabe, but people do change. Caleb is proof of that.”

Not everything.

“It must have been hard for both of them growing up,” Abby mused. “Caleb told me that until he married Emily, Christmas was just another day.”

Rachel registered her friend’s comment with a bit of a shock. With the Gentry money, she would have thought Lucas would have seen to it his boys had anything they wanted. What kind of man would deprive children of a bit of happiness once a year?

“Well, Lucas didn’t pretend to be anything but who he was,” she said. “I don’t imagine he was too interested in conforming to society’s expectations. Dad says that for all his unreasonableness, Lucas had a reputation for being hardworking. At least he passed that on to Caleb.”

“But not Gabe, from what I hear.”

“No. Not Gabe.”

“Did you know him?” Abby queried, taking another forkful of pie.

“Yes,” Rachel said, concentrating on the steam rising from her mug. “Gabe was two years younger than I, though, and we didn’t share the same circle of friends.”

“Caleb said he was...spoiled.” Abby said the word almost apologetically.

“To put it mildly,” Rachel said, struggling to suppress the sarcasm in her voice.

“I’ve heard he’s very handsome.”

“He’s also wild, dangerous and has no sense of decency...from what I hear,” Rachel tacked on.

Abby wondered why her friend was so irritated by the topic of Gabriel Gentry. “So I’ve heard from Caleb. As I said, people do change. I suppose only time will tell if Gabe has.”

Rachel took a sip of coffee before answering. “He did tell me he came back to try to make amends.”

“That’s promising, but I’m here to say that Caleb is struggling with the idea that Gabe is even back after so long. There’s been a lot of bad blood between them.”

Rachel nodded. “I certainly understand how he feels.” Perhaps more than Caleb.

* * *

That conversation stayed with Rachel as she drove the buggy back to town. Like Caleb, she was having a hard time accepting Gabe’s return. Because he broke your heart and trampled your woman’s pride beneath his fancy handmade boots.

True enough. That aside, surely she was mature enough to put the past into perspective. As terrible as it had been, she had learned from the experience. She was a better person. Stronger and more tolerant of others’ mistakes. So why not Gabe’s?

No doubt about it, she thought, giving her head a shake. She was a terrible, terrible person! Not forgiving wasn’t an option to a Christian, but like Caleb’s, her forgiveness of Gabe would come hard.

She prayed he would heal and move on soon. If he chose to stay, she wasn’t sure how she would deal with seeing him on a regular basis. Stop borrowing trouble, Rachel Stone. No one had any idea what he would do once his injuries healed. Still, there was the remote possibility that he would stay in the area, which meant her father had a point. She had to tell Danny and pray he understood.

But not today.

* * *

To her dismay, she and Danny found Edward and Gabe sitting at the kitchen table playing a game of chess. Gabe sat ramrod straight in the chair. He looked awful. He was far too pale, and there was no masking the pain shadowing his sapphire-hued eyes or the challenge in them as he looked at her. He expected her to rail at him for being out of bed, but she was too weary for another battle and kept silent.

“Can I play, Pops?” Danny wheedled, shoving his small body beneath Edward’s arm so he could get a better look at the board.

Intent on the game pieces, Edward gave the boy a distracted hug. “Not this game, Danny.”

“No one ever wants to play with me,” he said, his shoulders slumping.

“That isn’t true,” Rachel told him, hanging her coat by the door. She turned and took two plates out of the basket she’d carried in. “Pops plays with you all the time.”

“Supper?” Edward asked, spying the plates.

“Turkey and all the trimmings,” she replied. “I’ll stick them in the oven for a bit,” she said, doing just that. “They’ll be hot in no time.”

Finally reaching a decision, Edward moved a piece and then gave his attention to his daughter. “Makes my mouth water just thinking about Mary’s dressing.”

“I wasn’t sure if you liked turkey or not, so I brought ham, too,” she said to Gabe. Even as she spoke the words, she regretted showing any concern for his likes or dislikes.

“Either is fine, thank you. And I’ll play a game with you sometime, Danny, but I think I’d best get back to bed after I eat.”

The unexpected thanks and offer to Danny took Rachel by surprise, though it shouldn’t have. Gabe Gentry epitomized charm and grace and friendliness.

What he lacked was integrity and common decency.


Chapter Three

By the time a new year rolled around, the snow was nothing but a pleasant memory, leaving behind a dingy mush that froze at night and thawed during the day. The old year had ended with a rash of croup that kept Rachel running all over town. She had treated no less than seven people on New Year’s Eve.

Gabe was still in considerable pain if he moved the wrong way, but his injuries and his strength were improving in slow increments. Despite the sometimes excruciating agony, he was determined to leave the Stone house—and the intolerable tension between him and Rachel—as soon as humanly possible. For both their sakes, he had no desire to prolong the misery.

When he finished shaving shortly after breakfast on New Year’s Day, he saw that the gash on his face was healing nicely, though it would leave an ugly scar. He thought about that for a moment and shrugged. There wasn’t much he could do about it. Thanks to Simon and Rachel, he was alive.

His once dislocated shoulder was not so tender and his hand was much steadier; he’d only nicked himself in two places. He was congratulating himself on the progress when a knock sounded on his door.

“Come in,” he called, glancing up and seeing Danny’s reflection in the mirror. He stood in the doorway, staring at Gabe with unconcealed curiosity. “Not too pretty to look at, is it?” Gabe said.

“Must hurt.”

“Not much, but the ribs...that’s another thing.”

When the boy continued to watch him and made no move to say anything, Gabe prompted, “What can I do for you, Danny?”

“Pops said to tell you that Mr. Gentry—Caleb—is here to see you.”

Gabe smiled, the action pulling at the stitches closing the wound on his cheek. “Thanks, son.”

Danny’s eyes widened. He smiled, a smile so bright and wide that Gabe resisted the urge to chuckle.

“Do you need anything?” Danny asked, a look of hope in his eyes. “I can get whatever you want. I’m not doing anything.”

“I’m fine, thanks. You can send Caleb in.”

“Would you like to play a game of Chinese checkers after he goes?”

The past week, they’d fallen into a habit of playing a game or two in the afternoons. Though Gabe would have preferred to play chess with Edward, he got a lot of satisfaction at how much Danny seemed to enjoy the time they spent together. He also recalled how he’d wished his father was the kind of man who wanted to play with his boys.

“We’ll see. I’ll probably be ready for a good rest by the time Caleb leaves. Why don’t you go get him?”

“Oh. Okay.”

Gabe wondered if Danny was as disappointed as he looked. He’d be sure to try to play a game or two with him sometime during the afternoon.

When Caleb came into the bedroom, it was the first time the two brothers had faced each other on a more or less equal footing since Gabe left. Caleb had stopped by on other occasions, but knowing Gabe was still in a lot of pain, they’d postponed any serious discussions.

Though Gabe had wanted this chance to try to make things right and had mentally rehearsed their meeting dozens of times, now that the opportunity was here, he had no idea where to begin.

“How are you feeling?” Caleb asked, taking a chair next to the fireplace. The question was his usual conversational opening. Gabe wiped the shaving soap from his face and eased down into the chair’s mate.

“Far from well, but better.”

“That’s good.”

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. “Rachel mentioned that you got married again last year,” Gabe said, hoping to fill the growing silence left by his habitually reticent brother. That hadn’t changed.

Caleb nodded. “My first wife, Emily, died during childbirth. I married Abby Carter, a newly widowed woman Rachel suggested I hire for my daughter’s wet nurse.”

Gabe raised his eyebrows. “That’s a bit unconventional, isn’t it? Not to mention extreme.”

“More than a bit,” Caleb agreed. “But we didn’t have much choice when Sarah VanSickle started spreading rumors about us, even though I was staying in the bunkhouse with Frank and Leo.”

“So Sarah’s still doling out misery, is she?” Gabe asked, recalling more than one occasion when she’d caused unnecessary suffering.

“Yep. I keep thinking she’ll get her comeuppance, but so far, she just goes along, giving everyone a hard time along the way.” There was more silence.

“So tell me about your...Abby. How are things working out?” Gabe asked, in an attempt to keep the struggling conversation going.

“Very well. She’s a wonderful person and a great mother.”

Gabe saw a gleam in his brother’s eyes he’d never seen before. Happiness.

“I love her very much,” Caleb added, almost, Gabe thought, as if his brother expected him to make some sort of snide comment about the situation. “We had a son born two days before Christmas.”

“A son! You have a son and a daughter?” Caleb nodded and Gabe smiled, unexpectedly pleased for the brother who had borne the brunt of their father’s domineering personality. “I envy you.”

Caleb looked up to meet Gabe’s smiling gaze. “You do?”

“Even I had to grow up eventually, Caleb,” Gabe said, poking a bit of fun at himself. He knew what most people thought of him.

“Why have you come back, Gabriel?” Caleb asked, done with idle chitchat.

He shrugged. “I’m not sure I can explain. A while back, I realized that I’d done just about everything and seen all the places I wanted to see, and Lucas Gentry’s shadow was still hanging over me. I was as miserable away from Wolf Creek as I had been here.

“Believe it or not, I’ve given our childhood a lot of thought the past several months, and I came up with some reasons why I felt that way. A few months back, I got the notion to come and see if there was any way for us to make sense of our past. I even hoped that maybe I could make up for the things I’ve done.”

Caleb’s eyes reflected his impatience. “Words are fine, Gabe. You were always good with them, but actions speak a lot louder. It’s easy to come home when you’re down-and-out. It’s easy to claim regret and say you’re sorry and then saddle up and leave again, convinced you did all you could or should to fix things.”

For the first time, Gabe realized just how deep the chasm was between him and his brother. “I know what you’re saying is true, and that I’ve given you plenty of reason to feel the way you do, but I have no intention of leaving.”

“What!”

Gabe met his brother’s astonished gaze. “I’m staying in Wolf Creek. I’m twenty-nine years old. Wouldn’t you say it’s time I found a good woman and settled down?”

“What will you do? How will you live with no money?” Caleb asked, unable to hide his shock.

“You’re the one who said I was down-and-out, not me. I have a bit stuck by. As for what I’ll do, I have no idea.” He managed a wry smile. “It’ll be a while before I’m able to do much of anything, but when the time is right, something will come along.”

Another silence ensued. Finally, Gabe gave a heavy sigh, grimaced in pain and curved his arm around his battered ribs as if to protect them.

“Look, Caleb. I’m truly sorry for the way I acted when we were kids. I think I was trying to get Lucas to notice me, to acknowledge I was alive. If it took acting up to do it, so be it. I’m sorry my behavior left most of the work and responsibility on you. In a strange sort of way, though, I think you actually benefited.”

“How do you figure that?” Caleb snapped. “I was the slave who worked and you were the spoiled brat who got by with everything and did next to nothing.” His lips tightened with the stubbornness he was known for. “I’ve hated you for that.”

“I can’t say that I blame you,” Gabe said. He understood Caleb’s feelings, but just as Rachel’s disgust had been hard to swallow, Caleb’s words hurt, far more than Gabe had expected.

“Just think about it a minute. You were the one learning how to work, how to become a productive citizen, while I learned nothing except how to goof off and finagle others into doing my chores. I thought it was funny then, but not now. I cheated myself out of a lot of lessons.”

Caleb stared at Gabe as if he’d never seen him before.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, and I’ll understand if you say no, but I’d like to ask your forgiveness. I’d like the opportunity to get to know you and your family. Believe it or not, I want to be an uncle, and I’d really like it if you and I could find some common ground to build a relationship on.”

* * *

Rachel returned from a visit with one of her patients just before noon. She found her father sitting at the kitchen table in his wheelchair, slicing a skillet of corn bread into wedges.

“Hey, Pops!” she said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “How is everything?”

“Just dandy. How is little Jimmy doing?”

“As well as can be expected.”

“Good. Food’s ready,” he said, indicating a pot of pinto beans and salt pork Rachel had set on the back of the woodstove before she left earlier in that morning. “Will you get Danny and Gabe while I finish up here?”

“Of course.”

“Rachel,” he said, his voice stopping her.

“Yes?” she said, turning.

“Caleb came to see Gabe this morning. I have no idea what they talked about, but I thought you’d like to know.”

“Yes,” she said, nodding. “Thank you.”

Thoughts of what might have transpired between the brothers filled her mind as she went to fetch Danny. She found him reading one of the books he’d received for Christmas and more than ready to eat, since there were cookies to be had afterward.

Rachel went to Gabe’s room, knocked on the door and opened it at his summons.

“Pops has dinner ready,” she said, noticing that he was dressed in the extra clothes she’d found in his carpetbag instead of Edward’s castoffs. She couldn’t help noticing how well they fit his lean, broad-shouldered body. No doubt they’d been tailor-made for him.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’ve been waiting to talk to you.”

“Oh?”

He nodded. “I wanted to tell you that I’ll be leaving after we eat.”

“Leaving?” she echoed, disbelief in her voice. “You’re in no condition to be on a horse.”

“I don’t plan to be. I’m not leaving town, just checking into the boardinghouse. I think I’m well enough to take care of myself if I don’t do anything stupid.”

Though she’d wished him gone a hundred times, now that he planned to go she was filled with something that felt far too much like disappointment for her peace of mind.

“And how do you propose to pay for it?” she said, her voice sharper than she’d intended as the nebulous distress vanished in the face of her irritation.

“I had some money stuck in my boot the thieves didn’t find,” he explained. “It will see me through for a while. Besides, I think you’d agree that I’ve disrupted your life enough.”

Indeed he had, she thought, though she would never admit it. “You have not disrupted my life.”

His smile mocked. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Embarrassment flushed her cheeks. “Caring for people is what I do.”

“And I’ll be the first one to attest to the fact that you’re a fine doctor,” he said in a gentle voice. “But let’s be honest here.”

“By all means. If that’s possible,” she said, unable to mask the sarcasm in her voice.

“Touché.” Meeting her irate gaze was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. “Again, I know I treated you badly in St. Louis, and I should have said goodbye in person instead of leaving you that note.”

Rachel began to laugh, a terrible parody of the sound. “You think I’m angry at you because you left me a note?” she cried.

“Weren’t you?”

“Angry?” She shook her head. “No. Try furious. Or hurt. Or better yet, devastated.” She took a deep breath, and feelings and words that had festered far too long erupted from her lips.

“Silly, naive me! I was bound to fall for your smooth-talking ways. I believed everything you told me, and it was all lies. Every single word of it! So tell me, Gabe, where was your honesty back then?”

The vitriol in her voice caused all the color to drain from his face. “I have no excuse, except...”

She made a slashing movement through the air to silence him. “You’re right. You have no excuse. Lucky, lucky me! Handsome, worldly Gabe Gentry, the boy every girl in Wolf Creek longed to snare, looked me up.”

She gave a bitter laugh. “I can’t believe I was so gullible. I actually scoffed at the tales I’d heard about you, because you seemed so kind, and my memories of you were good. So I listened to your lies and fell for your pretty words. I gave you everything I had, Gabe. Everything. My love, my—” her voice faltered “—my entire being. You played me for a fool, and when you got what you wanted, you left without a backward glance, off to the next place of interest, the next easy mark.”

“I never thought you were an easy—” He tried to interrupt, but again she held up her palm for silence and drew in several deep, steadying breaths. As quickly as it had come, her anger disappeared. He almost wished it hadn’t. The anguish in her eyes was almost his undoing.

“Do you have any idea what you did to me?” she said, her voice breaking. “Do you have any idea how ugly and discarded and used I felt?”

Truthfully, he’d never considered that. For the first time he realized how badly his casual treatment had wounded her. There had been other girls, other times, and never once had he considered how his cavalier dismissal might have made them feel. He’d always assumed that they expected no more or less than he was willing to offer. He’d used his God-given looks and charm with utter disregard for anyone’s feelings but his own. All his life it had been about him. About what he felt, what he wanted.

The knowledge shamed him.

A glib apology couldn’t begin to cover his faults, but still he searched his mind for words to ease her pain, knowing deep in his gut that there were none.

“I think I understand what you felt and why you still feel the way you do.”

The harsh laughter was back. “You understand nothing!” she said in a tone of deadly quiet. “Nothing. But you’re a man, and men get to walk away. Women are the ones who pay, and I’ll pay for my folly the rest of my life.”

She swiped at her tears with her fingertips. “Thanks to you, I learned never to trust anything a man says.” Empty of words, she felt the heat of anger drain away and turned to leave the room.

Gabe’s voice followed her. “You must have trusted at least one man.”

She turned back to him with a blank expression.

“You must have trusted one other man,” he repeated. “You must have trusted Danny’s father.”

She paled, and turning left him standing near the fire.

He closed his eyes against the pain.

She’d loved him.

Was it possible that he’d loved her but had been too immature and wrapped up in himself to realize it? He didn’t know. All he knew was that staying would have meant putting an end to his roaming ways, and he hadn’t been ready to do that. So he had moved on. He had walked away from the one bit of goodness in his sordid past, possibly the best thing to ever happen to him, and, he suspected, the one person who might have saved him from himself.

She’d moved on, too. She’d found someone who wasn’t afraid to settle down. Someone who would cherish her enough to make her his wife.

Someone who had fathered her son.

That indisputable fact, more than anything she’d said to him, brought the most grief. The love he’d tossed away so carelessly, another had gained. Staying in Wolf Creek wouldn’t be easy, for a lot of reasons.

* * *

When Rachel entered the kitchen, she was greeted by two pairs of questioning eyes. She wondered if either of them had heard the actual words of the argument, or if they’d just heard her voice raised in anger.





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