Texas Healer

by Jean Brashear

  Rafe turned away and settled his glass in the sink. “You wanted to see where I work,” he said, staring out the window.

  She shouldn’t be this disappointed. “Yes,” she replied, striving for cheer.

  He gave her wide berth as he led her to the door that opened onto the porch. “This way.”

  She dispensed with her own glass. “Thank you for the water.”

  His tone was equally polite. “You’re welcome.”

  He showed her his potter’s wheel, described how it worked. Led her to the outdoor kiln and answered her questions.

  But the air between them danced with possibilities and desires, with an edgy, yawning hunger.

  She didn’t know how much longer she could stand it.

  When he guided her out the back, she spied the pool of water, licked by tongues of flame from the setting sun. Surrounded by rocks on the back and trees to each side, it was a natural haven no landscape designer could imitate.

  Rafe’s unease told her this was a sacred space and she was trespassing.

  “I should go.”

  He turned slowly. “Why?”

  “Because—” She looked up at him. “This is important to you. I’m in the way.”

  She wished she could decipher what was in those seer’s eyes as they locked on hers.

  He closed the small distance between them. “You’re right. You are in my way—” He shook his head. “But not like you think. You’re in my head and I can’t get you out.” His hand rose slowly and cupped her cheek.

  Diana couldn’t find her voice. She closed her eyes as his fingers traced her cheekbone, her jaw…hovered over her mouth—

  Then his lips were a breath away. “You’re too complicated, Diana,” he murmured.

  “What?” She tried to make sense of his words.

  But it was too late. His lips brushed hers, as softly as the petal of a rose. He lifted them and waited—

  Her lids flew open. Eyes older than time spoke of danger.

  “I don’t care.” She rose to her toes, sealing her mouth to his, grasping his collar with her left hand to prevent his escape.

  Instead Rafe growled, and sweet turned hot. Strong arms pulled her against a body tense with suppressed desire.

  Reason fled. Her flesh came alive with a scream. It had been so very long since she’d done this—

  Rafe shifted, drew her closer. Slanted his mouth to go deep.

  Correction—she’d never done this. Nothing had ever felt so good.

  The last of her control slipping, she jerked on his hair, tried to step away. To think. “God—” she gasped, “What’s happening?”

  Rafe’s chest heaved as he watched her, still holding her tight. “I don’t know—we shouldn’t—” He looked as shell-shocked as she felt. His eyes narrowed. “Hell with it.” He lowered his head again.

  She shot through the tunnel with him, sliding fast and deep into lunacy, reckless with delight. Warning lights flared at the edge of consciousness, but the lure of him blinded her; the feel of him drove her mad. She rested her injured hand against his chest and let the other hand roam over his broad back. When his hands slid behind her and pressed her close, she knew she wasn’t the only one dying for more. She moaned and rubbed against him.

  He tore his mouth away. Held her at arm’s length, staring at her as if she were some sort of apparition.

  “This is wrong,” he said.

  He was right. It made her furious. “We’re both adults. I get tested often. I know I don’t carry any diseases and won’t get pregnant. If you’re safe, then what’s the harm?” Though the words fit her past behavior, they left a bad taste in her mouth now.

  “I’m safe, but that’s not the point. You’re not ready, mi linda,” he said. “Nor am I.”

  She cast a glance at the fly of his jeans. “You look ready to me.” She didn’t know why she was pushing.

  “You need a friend, not a lover.”

  “Love has nothing to do with it. This is only physical.”

  “Go ahead and think that.” His eyes saw too much. They burned past all her defenses.

  “Stay away from me,” she said, whirling. Misery churned. She was watching someone she’d never met and wondering who the hell she was. “I’ll find my way back.”

  “If that’s how you want it.” His voice was tight, as raw as her nerves. He held out one hand. “I’ll take you home.”

  “Go to hell, Rafe.” She slapped it away. “I’m a grown woman. You just go to hell.” Then, before she mortified herself any worse, she whirled and ran.

  “Diana—” he shouted.

  She didn’t look back.

  Rafe followed her at a distance on foot, knowing she would hear Chieftain’s hooves if he rode, worried she’d run faster and fall as shadows lengthened. He would pay all night for the insult to his hip, but he couldn’t let her go alone.

  He would pay anyway. Hunger for her gnawed at his insides; loathing swamped his mind. He wanted her, yes, now worse than ever, but he’d known how fragile she was and hadn’t been able to stop himself. Just a taste, he’d thought.

  Never dreaming how much he’d crave more.

  Chapter Eight

  Two days had passed with Diana in hiding, venturing outside only when she was sure she was alone. The hours dragged; she was ready to scream with the boredom.

  She stared around the cabin that was beginning to feel like a prison. If she was left alone with her thoughts any longer, she’d scream. Last night she’d been reduced to catching talk radio from the border, some wild-eyed evangelist begging for money so he could prevent the end of the world.

  She’d never been a coward in her life. She couldn’t continue, even if she had no idea what she’d say to Rafe the next time she saw him.

  Well, the next time she talked to him—she’d seen him every day with the colt. Had hung back out of sight like some leper. His limp was worse, and she wondered why he drove himself so.

  She wasn’t the only one who needed to be busted back to kindergarten. At least this was only her first offense.

  She’d performed all her exercises. Spent too many aggravating moments doing the needlework Don had ordered, nearly biting through her lip from frustration. Her efforts looked like a child’s—no trace of the beautiful, even stitches that she’d once sutured into her patients’ flesh. The latest segment looked better, but she had so far to go.

  Then she remembered that Sam had brought in a replacement surgeon, and picked up the needlework to try again.

  Her cell phone rang. She lunged for it. “Hello?”

  “First ring,” Sam said. “Good. You must be resting.”

  “Going out of my mind is what I’m doing. Talk to me, Sam,” she pleaded. “Hospital gossip, patient census, board meeting horrors—I’m desperate. Tell me about supplier problems—I’ll be the best audience you ever had.”

  “That bad, huh?” He chuckled. “Then you must really be behaving.”

  “Don’t tease. Give me a crumb.”

  Sam took mercy on her and launched into a series of stories—snippets of the life she longed to rejoin. Finally, when he had her laughing over a tale of Judd Carter and the new guy, Wes Hunter, locking horns in the doctors’ lounge, he got to the point of his call. “I found you an ECG.”

  “Ah, Sam, you magician you. Who’d you have to kill?”

  “It gets better. Got you a microscope and centrifuge and an obscene number of bandages. Got drug reps to commit for a ton of samples.”

  “That’s it. Divorce Lydia and run away with me to Belize. I think I love you.”

  Sam chuckled. “I couldn’t run fast enough to escape Lydia’s wrath.”

  Diana thought of the kind woman who was both Sam’s comfort and bulwark in a career field filled with far more obstacles than triumphs. Lydia didn’t have an ounce of wrath in her. Diana sighed. “Just my luck. All the good ones are taken.”

  “I thought you’d agreed to have an affair.”

  “I said no such t
hing.” She heard her voice go tight at the memory of how she’d all but devoured Rafe before she’d recovered her mind.

  “What, Helen?” Sam spoke to his secretary, then came back on the line. “Gotta go, kiddo. Recess is over.”

  She wanted to keep him on the line. Maintain contact with the only world where she knew what she was doing.

  But she was sure he’d given her far more time than he could afford. “I’ll pay for the shipping. How soon will the stuff arrive?”

  “Mercy still has some favors to grant to its best surgeon. The shipping’s on us. The stuff should be there the first of next week.”

  “Sam, I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “Just get well, Diana, and come back to us. We need you.”

  The words did much to pour oil on troubled waters. “I’m doing my best. Love to Lydia,” she said.

  “Hang in there, friend. The month will be over before you know it.” Then he was gone.

  She disconnected the call and stood there, phone still in hand as though it could keep her old life alive a little longer.

  Early next week. Only the second of her four weeks. So long…

  She took in a deep breath. But at the end of that week, she would be halfway through her sentence. She would make it.

  Somehow.

  It was time to come out of her cave and find Rafe. Give him the good news. She set the phone in its charger, reluctant to turn it off just in case someone else from her real life called.

  No one had yet, but the hope sustained her.

  “All right,” she said. “Time to quit licking your wounds and hiding from Rafe.” She walked into the bathroom and glanced in the mirror.

  She looked awful. Her hair was too shaggy, brushing her shoulders in the back. Her skin too pale; her eyes, too lifeless.

  Get a grip, Morgan. You’ve been through worse, much worse.

  She turned on the shower and began to strip.

  A while later, she stepped onto the porch of Ramón’s store. Rafe’s pickup was nowhere in sight, but she was too tired to walk back yet. Disgusting how quickly you could get out of shape.

  She opened the door. Maybe Evita would know where he was.

  She’d only been to this place once, but the smells were familiar now. She’d been welcomed here, been made to feel at home. Her spirits rose.

  “Ah, the beautiful doctora graces us with her presence.” To her left, Ramón greeted her with a big smile. “Come in, come in. Don’t be a stranger.” He emerged from the aisle where he was stocking cans. “How are you today?”

  “I’m…fine.” And she realized that, in a way, she really was. She’d done herself no service hiding away, making the cabin a cave. “How are you?”

  He leaned over, pitched his voice low. “Mariela is ten months pregnant, at least in her mind. Take pity on a poor beleaguered husband and don’t ask.” But his eyes twinkled as he said the words.

  Diana grinned back. “As if you played no part.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Ah, the things a man forgets when he has a warm and willing woman…I plead insanity. I throw myself on the mercy of the court.”

  Diana was laughing when she heard Evita’s shout.

  “Is he telling you those ‘oh, poor me’ stories, Diana? Don’t believe a word. He warned Mariela when they married that they would have a dozen children.” She walked up beside Diana. “The idiot woman married him anyway.” She threw her arms around Diana in an easy hug.

  Diana went still. Unused to hugs, she was trying to figure out how to respond long after Evita had released her, chattering on.

  “What do you think you’re doing, hiding up there like some hermit?” Evita scolded. “Leaving us to deal with Rafe?”

  “What?” Worry swamped her. “What’s wrong with him? His hip is worse, isn’t it?”

  Evita waved off her questions. “His hip is terrible, of course, but it’s never good.” Hands fisted at her waist, she continued. “I’m talking about whatever you’ve done to turn our Rafe into a growling bear.” She leaned closer, peering into Diana’s face.

  Then she smiled. “Ah…I knew it.”

  Diana wasn’t accustomed to anyone prying into her business. She liked Evita, but this was too much. “Excuse me?” she said in her frostiest voice.

  Evita glanced at Ramón. Ramón threw up his hands and backed away. Evita laughed. “Coward,” she said to her retreating brother’s back.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and furthermore, it’s none of your business what happens between Rafe and me.”

  Unperturbed, Evita chuckled again, big silver hoops flashing at her ears, black curls bouncing as her brown eyes gleamed. “I knew it. It had to be something between you two that had Rafe’s temper on a short leash.”

  Diana turned to escape.

  Evita grabbed her arm and drew her onto the porch.

  “Let go of me,” Diana said, all ice now.

  Evita looked again, and amusement fled. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

  Despite herself, Diana had to ask. “Didn’t realize what?”

  “It’s not just Rafe, is it? You’re hurt, too.”

  Diana drew back. “I’m perfectly fine. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

  “I trespassed, didn’t I?” She waved her hand. “Around here, we all live in one another’s pockets. What one knows, everyone knows. We’re a family of sorts, and everyone understands that I speak without thinking sometimes.”

  Her eyes were sympathetic. “You’re not used to this, I can tell. I—I haven’t traveled much.” Her voice vibrated with her longing. “I forget that it’s different in other places. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Thawing a little, Diana shook her head. “You didn’t upset me.”

  “Yes, I did, and for that I’m sorry. I like you, Diana. I want to be your friend.”

  When had anyone ever said that to her without expecting a benefit from it? Touched, Diana unbent but couldn’t lie. “I won’t be here very long.” She met Evita’s gaze. “But…I’d like that, too.” She glanced away. “I haven’t had many friends.”

  Evita grabbed her in another of her spontaneous hugs, too vibrant to be subdued for long. “Okay, now that we’re friends, I want to know why you’re teasing Rafe.”

  “What?” Diana had never teased a man in her life.

  “Don’t get me wrong—it’s time someone caught his eye. He’s lived like a monk since—” Even Evita couldn’t speak lightly of how he’d almost died. “I thoroughly approve. He couldn’t go forever without a woman. I give you my blessings to work your charms on him as you will—but the rest of us would appreciate it if you didn’t tease him too long.”

  Diana couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I’m not—he’s not—” What was it with everyone? First Sam tells her to have an affair, then Rafe’s almost-sister concurs?

  Evita burst into laughter. “Ay, mujer, if you could see your face right now. Your cheeks are red, your eyes are wide, but…ah, inside those eyes, I see the truth.”

  Diana wondered exactly when she’d fallen down Alice’s rabbit hole. “What truth?”

  “You want our Rafe,” Evita explained. “He tempts you, and that’s very good. He needs to quit crucifying himself over what happened. What better way than to lose his mind over a woman?”

  Diana’s mouth fell open. “He won’t—he wouldn’t lose his mind over me—” She faltered at the very concept, even as it sent a tingle down her spine. Ridiculous. Men didn’t lose their minds over her. She didn’t even want that.

  But a tiny piece of her marveled at the idea.

  And reveled in it.

  Reason flooded back. “Your imagination is out of control, Evita. First of all, Rafe doesn’t even like me. Second—” she held out another finger “—I’m not in the market for an affair. I have to focus on getting back in shape to resume my career. Third—”

  Evita shook her head. “Are you crazy?”

  Diana jolted. “What?”
>
  “What woman with any brains wouldn’t jump at the chance to have that man in her bed?” Then her eyes narrowed. “Is it because of his injuries?” Her voice tightened, her brows lowering. “Or because he’s Latino?”

  “Don’t even say that,” Diana snapped. “You’re starting to make me mad.” She brandished her hand. “How could I call anyone handicapped when I’m like this?” Her temper rocketed. “And don’t you dare call me a bigot. Any man would be proud to have half Rafe’s intelligence and compassion, to say nothing of what it required to beat the odds of coming back from such severe injuries—”

  Evita laughed, holding up a hand. “Bastante. Enough. I get the point.” Her eyes softened again. “Ah, yes, it would do our Rafe good to lose his mind over a woman like you.”

  Diana couldn’t let Evita keep spinning out this fantasy. “Evita, Rafe is possibly the most intriguing man I’ve ever met.”

  Evita nodded.

  “But I have no intention of getting involved with him. Even if he were interested, there would be no point.”

  Evita shook her head, sighing. “Ah, you Anglos. Rafe has the same disease. Too much logic and too little listening to the heart.” Her eyes glinted with mischief and pity. Her fist smacked against her chest. “Cling to your logic, mujer, as you will, but don’t be surprised when it does no good. I strongly suspect it’s too late for either of you.”

  Diana fell silent, not sure how to argue.

  Then the irrepressible Evita leaped to the fore. “Ah, well, it’s a pretty day, too pretty to be serious.” She grasped Diana’s good hand. “Let me feed you lunch, then I’ll tell you where to find Rafe.”

  “What makes you think I’m looking for him?”

  Evita turned, rolling her eyes. “Please. Let’s not ruin a good friendship with unnecessary lies.”

  Before Diana could figure out how to counter that, Evita was already pulling her inside with a merry laugh.

  Rafe paused to wipe sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. Working nights as he had up to now, he hadn’t had to contend with the heat, but he didn’t have that luxury anymore. The X ray would be arriving next week, and he still had sheetrock to hang and painting to finish.