by Jan Irving
But the man was always talking to people, trying to change things, saying they needed real law in this town, that even the goddamn Chinaman had the same rights as a white man! Christ! But this was Davids town since not even his father Eli dared to take him on, and it was time the doctor learned his place.
He raised the belt to strike again when it was suddenly yanked free from his grip.
“Wha—”
David crashed headfirst into a willow tree. He shook his head, spat blood. Someone had shoved him! Licking the salty taste off his teeth, he glared at the tall, gaunt stranger.
“Do you know who I am, Mister?” he prodded. No one in Sylvan messed with David Smith. No one.
“Why yes, that would be a weakling who employs five men to help you beat a child.”
“You bas—”
Slap!
“Ow, goddamnit!” David covered his cheek. The stranger had slapped him.
He was so dazed he didnt interfere when the man freed the runt, pushing the boy safe behind him. “What are you…?”
Spurs jingled musically as the stranger crowded David, not standing back for clean gun play but striding close, too goddamn close, ignoring Davids friends as if they were nothing.
He stared into Davidss eyes, and something about that look, that confidence, unnerved Smith. Who was this man? David wanted to attack him, tear out his throat. Slapping him! But…if the man was this sure of himself, maybe David should know who he was before—
And then the stranger turned his back, hand protectively on the little runts shoulder as he guided him through the gauntlet of Davids friends.
David listened to the sound of measured steps and softly chiming spurs, feeling an ember of rage eat his gut. This was his town.
“I been too soft,” he whispered to himself. That saddle bum probably wouldnt have dared anything if word hadnt gotten out that David had been tolerant with the fine Boston doctor.
* * *
Gabriel leaned on a porch support, gripping it with a clenched hand. “You okay, Mister?”
“Yes, its just…fatigue. How much farther to your friends home?” “Not far to Doc Judes place. He leaves the lantern on all night so his patients
know hes home if they need him.” Gabriel nodded after he looked ahead and spotted it. He straightened and put a hand on Mouses shoulder, trying not to quake from a bout of sudden chill. “He does indeed sound like…a good doctor.”
“You should see him. He could make you feel better, I know it!” Mouse exclaimed. “Mister, are you…?”
Gabriel fell, feeling his chest working like a trout pulled from a river.
Mouses face blurred from pale white to gray to darkness.
Chapter Two
“Scarring,” Doc Jude said in an absent tone. He had to shove down the compassion that he felt as he examined the unconscious man who had rescued Mouse. “Very deep.”
“Looks like he was whipped,” Joanna noted. She held the lantern with a reflecting mirror affixed to it so he could examine his new patient. Joanna often filled in as a nurse when she wasnt working at the saloon, and Jude was grateful for her help and the way she never judged him. Shed never asked, but he wondered sometimes if shed guessed his secret.
“Thank you, Joanna,” he said. “A little to the left…” Joanna raised the light, bending close to watch what Jude was doing. She would have made a fine doctor, and hed told her so more than once.
“But hes not a blind runt, so why would anyone whip his back?” Mouse asked. Hed refused to leave the examining room until Jude had taken a look at his new friend.
“Mouse! No one has the right to whip anyone, blind or not,” Joanna scolded in a raspy voice. She got upset when Mouse referred to himself as a runt, but then so did Jude. He wished there was some way they could reach the boy, show him that he was special, no matter how some unenlightened individuals in town treated him.
“It looks like it might have happened to him when he was younger, Mouse, since the scarring is old, and I think the wounds were left untreated,” Jude said, sighing. “Someone wanted to hurt this man, to humiliate him.”
Mouse patted the strangers limp arm no doubt catching his hoarse breathing. “But hes safe here with us now, isnt he, Doc Jude? We wont let anyone hurt him.”
“No, we most certainly will not!” Judes jaw locked as he thought of David Smith and his men. Jude had to walk carefully around them, like everyone in town, but it was increasingly hard, especially with the way they endangered Mouse. “I want to move him on his side.” Gently he lifted and turned the limp body of the big man, heavy with muscle and yet so thin. Bones stuck out under the skin like sticks in a ladys Chinese fan. He adjusted the pillow and heard the laboring breaths of his patient ease.
Acting on a strange impulse, Jude pushed the long brown hair, warm as fall chestnuts and shot with silver, back from the high forehead. “Youve lived some life, Mister,” he whispered. “But youre safe here under my roof.”
Joanna gave him a steady look, and Jude flushed. What must she be thinking? He did not show such partiality with his patients, but there was something about this man. Besides, the stranger had saved Mouse. Surely he was only experiencing such a connection because of gratitude?
“Doc!” Joanna pointed to where the white sheet placed to protect his patients modesty had fallen away, revealing a scar on the mans hip shaped like an O.
Jude frowned, and he drew in a deep breath, reaching out to trace the scar. “My God. It looks like it was cut into his skin.”
Mouses fingers dug into the patients arm. “Doc, whats wrong with him? Whys he having so much trouble breathing?”
Seeing Mouse had become fond of the stranger, Jude led him away from the examining table and knelt beside him. “I believe he has a bad infection. He appears very run-down.”
Mouse swallowed. “You mean hes dying, dont you?”
“Not if we can help him, Mouse. Hes a very strong man, so with some rest and proper food and care, he has a good chance to recover. Hes unconscious now because hes suffering from fatigue, which has aggravated his condition.”
“I want to help him,” Mouse said.
Judes gaze went back to his patient, and again he felt the shameful tug, the old urges he tried to bury with helping others. Well, he would help this man, this beautiful man.
“Come on; I want to check your back. Hes resting now,” Jude told Mouse.
* * *
Gabriel swallowed, running his tongue over cracked lips. “Here.” A cup was placed against his mouth, and a hand raised his head gently so he could drink.
Gabriels eyes flared wide, and he shoved the hand away, rolling off the high bed in a supple twist. He landed on his feet, and silver instruments went flying from a cart as he groped through them. Knife in hand, he glared at the slight, bespectacled young man with tangled brown curls.
“Please put down the scalpel,” the stranger asked.
Gabriel felt the chill of air on his naked body and snatched a sheet to cover himself, flushing with embarrassment.
“I am a doctor. Youre sick, and I just want to help you,” the man continued in a soft voice.
Gabriels dry throat prickled, and he coughed. It brought on a spell—
The young man took him by the shoulders and guided him back to the bed. He went to a cabinet as Gabriel watched, heart pounding, opening it to pull out a bottle and cloth. He soaked the fabric with liquid from the bottle and then returned to Gabriels bedside. “Breathe into this; it will relax the spasms.”
Gabriel snatched the other man close by his hair, staring into wide, shocked blue eyes. “Where are my guns?” he asked.
“I…I left them in the hallway. I dont like weapons in my clinic.”
“Take me to them!”
The stranger looked afraid of him, but Gabriel quashed the shame he felt. He wouldnt be vulnerable again. Not ever.
Leaving the bed, he shoved the slight young man forward, keeping a hand around his slender throat so hed know Gab
riel meant business. He could easily break his neck with a sharp twist; hed done it before as a soldier during the war.
In the hallway, Gabriel spotted his pistols.
“You wont need them in my clinic,” the doctor insisted.
Gabriel pushed the other man aside and snatched his guns up. His body relaxed as soon as he cradled them. He leaned against the doorway, struggling to breathe and hating that he was so goddamned weak.
“May I have my knife back now that you have your weapons?” the doctor asked him coolly, raising light brown brows.
“What is…your name?” Gabriels vision was blurring, and he was afraid. Afraid to fall asleep, to be helpless…
“Dr. Jude Evans, but my patients call me Doc Jude.” The gentle voice was like a hand touching him.
Gabriel returned the knife. What must the doctor think—that he was some wild, rabid wolf? “I…would not have cut you, sir,” he said.
“I hope not! Im the only doctor, and that would inconvenience a lot of people here in town. Let me help you back to bed.”
Gabriel was amazed that the slighter man was willing to get close to him after his behavior, but there was kindness in the blue eyes that held his own. He allowed himself to be led back into the room and sat on the bed, still laboring to breathe.
“This will relax the air passages.” Doc Jude had the cloth in hand again. “Please, trust me.”
Gabriel held his guns close to his chest, staring at the young doctor.
“Why, youre trembling!” Doc Jude said as he touched Gabriels shoulder. He continued in a softer voice, “Sir, I will not harm you. I took an oath to put my patients welfare above my own.”
“Who will keep me safe if I go to sleep?” Gabriel growled.
A childs voice piped in, “I will!”
“Mouse,” Gabriel said, recognizing the boy hed befriended. “Is your back—”
Gabriel started coughing and hated that the boy was seeing him like this, weak, barely able to rise from the bed.
“Im fine. They didnt cut me like what happened to you.”
Gabriel closed his eyes. When he could speak again, he said, “Im very glad.” He looked at the doctor, seeing compassion burning in the blue eyes. “I will take your remedy, sir.”
“My name is Jude.” The young man blushed under Gabriels steady gaze. “And Mouse and I will watch over you while you rest, never fear.”
* * *
Gabriel woke to bright sunlight pouring like honey through the windows. He stared blankly at the shifting lace curtains and at the beautiful woman leaning against the window, looking out into the street.
Her profile was as cold and pure as a goddess, but he remembered seeing her at the saloon. She was no lady, which meant she was a more comfortable kind of companion for a man like him.
Some instinct seemed to alert her to his gaze so that she turned to face him, sober blue eyes studying him. “Youre awake.”
“Yes, maam,” Gabriel said. “You surely are Mouses mother.”
The womans eyes widened. “He doesnt know.”
“Oh, I think he suspects. The man who whipped him, he resembled Mouse also.”
“Davids father is desperate for an heir, and he wants to claim Mouse, but David is ashamed of him, ashamed of me.”
Gabriel nodded. “I understand. There is nothing so dangerous to a child as a father who is…disappointed in him.”
“I am Joanna,” she said, regaining her poise. “Doc Jude had to go check on a patient, and he asked me to watch over you. Would you like a sponge bath? You have been running quite a fever.”
Gabriel grimaced, feeling sticky. He really wanted another tub bath, but he was too weak to leave the clinic. “I shall manage if you could bring me what I need,” he said. He disliked being too dependent on anyone.
Joanna nodded, and Gabriel found himself liking the way she looked at him. Straight up, with gunslingers eyes.
* * *
Jude heard the splash of water falling and knocked on his patients door, knowing the stranger must be awake. Hed left him sleeping previously, afraid even to wake him to eat, he seemed so worn down. Clearly he needed rest.
“Come,” a deep voice called, and Jude entered the room, rubbing his tired eyes. “You look a little more rested.” Judes concern for his patient propelled him to go over and feel the mans forehead. The sponge trickled water into a basin resting on the corner of the bed, and Judes eyes swept smooth muscled skin, slick with water. He cleared his throat. “Mouse will be glad youre a little better. May I ask your name?”
“Gabriel Fontenot,” Gabriel offered. He stiffened when the young doctor took his wrist, touching him seemingly without fear.
Gabriel wasnt used to people being unafraid of him.
Even less used to being touched.
And then, while he stared at the other man, the doctor stroked Gabriels wrist absently. It was meant strictly to comfort, he knew that. He knew it wasnt… But his body responded because of tangled, soft brown hair and gentle eyes, and all Gabriel could think about was—
He yanked his wrist away, dropping his gaze. “Dont touch me!” he growled.
“Did I hurt you?” Bewildered blue eyes. Then, “Oh.”
Gabriel lifted a knee so the erection he was sporting wasnt so obvious. Damnation, there was no way the man could mistake him.
A hand returned to his line of sight, startling him so that he looked up and met Judes gaze. “I was checking your pulse. May I continue?”
“But…” Gabriel let him take his wrist again, swallowing thickly. He was comfortable touching a man like Gabriel?
“Its all right,” Jude whispered. He was blushing, Gabriel noted. “You helped Mouse, and Im very grateful to you.”
“No child should have his back striped.” Gabriel shook his head, sickened.
“You were whipped once. I…saw that when I examined you.” Curiosity and compassion were in the doctors eyes now.
“I expected you to slap my face when you saw…” Gabriels throat closed. He couldnt speak of it, the moment when this man had touched him and Gabriels body betrayed him.
Doc Judes voice was hushed. “I could not help but notice the scar on your hip; it resembled the letter o.”
Gabriel gazed deeply into Judes eyes without hiding who he was anymore. Goddamnit, he couldnt help it. “O stands for the wordobscenity.”
Chapter Three
“Breathe deeply. Good! Now exhale.” Doc Jude had his stethoscope pressed against Gabriels bare, muscled chest. He was trying to concentrate on his patients welfare and not on the unsaid things humming between them since Gabriels explanation of the meaning behind the letter carved into his hip.
Gabriel had settled upstairs in the first empty bedroom of Judes clinic when it was clear hed need some time to recover. He was still being stubborn about that, though, seeming to think he could just continue to neglect his health.
It made Jude grit his teeth. “Good enough for me to resume my journey, Doctor?” Gabriel cocked an eyebrow now, breaking into Judes thoughts. “I have business Id like to attend to.”
“You only just arrived in town. Why would you want to go out and camp in the rough, a man in your condition—”
Gabriel shoved the stethoscope away. “Im not dead yet.” He stared meaningfully into Judes eyes and added in a low tone, “Far from it.”
Jude swallowed. He was trying to be professional and keep a proper distance with his prickly and mysterious new patient, but he couldnt help staring back into the dark eyes, watching Gabriels pupils widen and devour chocolate irises as if in primitive response to Judes proximity.
Jude licked his lips, nervous, touched by Gabriel. “No, of course not! But if you rest and take care of yourself, Im sure you will recover. You are very run-down, but the dry air here is good for the lungs.”
Gabriel stood up, the bedclothes falling away and revealing his slender body, dressed only in tight deerskin pants. There wasnt an ounce of fat on him, just lean muscle and hard t
imes. Jude had to drag his gaze away from his patient.
“Maybe I dont want to be cured,” Gabriel growled.
“What?” Jude couldnt help but snag the larger mans arm. His belly twisted at the sensation of contact with Gabriels hot skin. When he breathed, he caught the faint scent of bay rum and leather emanating from the other man. He felt the tension between them, the moment suspended while Gabriel seemed to weigh whether or not to allow his familiarity. “Life is precious. You cant just—”
Gabriel yanked his arm away. His face was still pale, sweating from his constant low-grade fever, but the deep rings under his eyes were gone and he wasnt rasping to breathe anymore. “I can do what I want, damn you.” His gaze dropped to Judes lips. “Damn you, Jude,” he repeated, his tone meaningful, intimate.
Jude felt his own temper flare. He stabbed a finger in the center of Gabriels smooth chest. “I delivered a baby recently who struggled to live, and I tried—heaven knows I tried—but her heart was faulty and she was too small, too unformed, so she finally…succumbed.” Judes voice broke, remembering the cry of grief from the father when hed told him. The mother begging to hold her dying baby, knowing the little one would only live a short time. Sometimes being a doctor was hell. He continued in a whisper, “So dont you dare tell me that your life is just something you throw away!”
Gabriels eyes softened. Jude started as Gabriel reached out and cupped his cheek. “Youre a sweet fellow.”
“I…” Jude swallowed and stepped away, but Gabriel followed, his walk silken as he crowded Jude closer to the bedroom wall.
“Jude?” Gabriel breathed. His face was close. Too close. In another moment, Jude might do something inappropriate.
Jude straightened his sleeves, avoiding Gabriels steady gaze.
“I frighten you. Why? Is it…this?” Gabriel gestured to where he was unapologetically hard, his member swollen, gloved by soft leather. He became aroused whenever Jude tended him; Jude was doing his best to ignore it.