Penny Richards - Wolf Creek Homecoming

“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.