Wolf Creek Homecoming. Penny Richards
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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