The Doctor's Medicine Woman

by Donna Clayton

  Travis had done a wonderful job of making them feel safe and secure. He’d made all the correct moves; he’d listened to them with deep concern, he’d spoken with quiet sureness in his most convincing argument that here was where he wanted the boys to be.

  Travis was so patient with the twins. So kind. He had all the perfect qualities that went into making a good father. Most important, he loved those children. And he’d do anything for them. Anything. That was so very clear to her.

  Over the past few weeks that she’d been here, he’d proved time and again that he’d do whatever it took to make their lives happy, give them whatever it was he thought they needed for their well-being.

  And she’d just realized that one of those things was her.

  The idea that he was seducing her in order to provide the boys with their Native American heritage and traditions sent cold chills raking down her spine like fork tines.

  Would he really treat you so poorly? The question filled her with sudden doubt as it whispered across her brain.

  But then her chin trembled with chaotic emotion. Yes, she silently decided.

  He would. He was a man, wasn’t he? And men always showed their true colors. Sometimes it took months, as it had with Eric. Sometimes it only took weeks, as it had with Travis.

  But months or weeks, in the end, their true personalities would show through.

  She hated to think badly of Travis. Hated to think that he’d lie and manipulate her in order to give the boys the grounding they were so sorely lacking. He knew they needed a firm foundation that was rooted in the past, a foundation he wasn’t able to provide. She hated to think he’d take advantage of her like this.

  But there was something else she hated. Something she despised above all else. And that was realizing at this very moment—knowing in the very core of her heart—that she’d fallen desperately and deeply in love with the man when he only wanted to use her.

  Travis fixed breakfast for the boys, and while they ate, he’d showered and dressed for work. His patient schedule was light for the day so he’d be home in time for lunch. However, he didn’t want to leave his talk with Diana until the afternoon. He simply couldn’t.

  Once he’d come downstairs to find the boys watching a favorite cartoon video, he’d asked them if Diana had come downstairs. Both of them said they hadn’t seen her.

  There were two reasons he trudged up the steps toward her room. One was that he didn’t want her thinking such appalling things about him for one moment longer than was absolutely necessary. The other was that, if he didn’t clear up her misconception of his motives before he left this morning, he’d be so preoccupied with the awful things she thought about him that he wouldn’t be able to focus on his patients’ needs, and that wouldn’t be professionally responsible behavior. He needed to straighten out his personal life so he could give himself completely to the patients who depended on him.

  Lifting his hand, he knocked softly. There was no answer.

  “Diana,” he called. “We need to talk.”

  He waited. All he heard was silence.

  Finally he said, “You know that I have patients this morning. And I know you’ve made plans with the boys. But I’m not leaving this house until you hear what I have to say.”

  Ten long seconds passed before he heard the knob turn, and then the door opened. The doubts and fears shadowing her dark eyes tugged at his heart, made him want to reach out to her. But he didn’t.

  Instead he walked past her and seated himself in the big, overstuffed easy chair. He looked over and saw that she hadn’t moved from the doorway, her hand still poised on the knob.

  “Come over here,” he said, the soft request in his tone unmistakable.

  She hesitated, looking over her shoulder out toward the hallway. “But the boys…” she said, letting the rest of her thought linger in the stillness.

  “They’ll be fine,” he told her. “They’re watching television.” He patted the bed’s coverlet. “Come. Sit. I’ve got something to say…something you need to hear.”

  He’d purposefully emphasized the word need. Yes, she needed to hear his thoughts. But he also had a terrific need to speak them.

  She moved to the bed and perched herself on the very edge of the mattress. Immediately he got the impression that if he were to say one wrong word, she would jump up and flee. Her nervousness was apparent, and he knew he’d have to tread softly or she’d never stay long enough to hear him out.

  The tension in the air snapped, but he ignored it, refused to get caught up in it. Instead he leaned over to rest his elbows on his knees and he gazed steadily at Diana. She seemed so close, merely inches from him. But judging from the apathetic expression she struggled to exhibit, he felt as though she was determined to lock her emotions so deeply inside her that she might as well be miles away. He was determined to reach her. He was overcome with the sense that his happiness depended on it.

  “I don’t really know what I’ve done,” he began, “to make you think such terrible things about me. But I want to assure you that you’re wrong. Completely wrong about my motives.”

  The clouds in her eyes were unreadable.

  “I don’t know what happened between you and your ex,” he continued. “But from what you said this morning, I have the feeling that the man thought it would be fun, or unique, or cool, or unusual, or whatever adjective works here, to be married to someone of a different ethnicity than himself.”

  She remained statue-still.

  “If that’s so…” He let the words hang in the air while he sighed heavily. “If that’s so, then that’s very sad for him. Because that means he wasn’t able to look past your genetic profile to see the real you. The person inside. The wise and wonderful woman that you are.”

  A flicker of reaction. An almost imperceptible narrowing of her eyes. It was enough to set his heart hammering against his ribs.

  “But what’s saddest about the situation,” he said, “is that you were hurt by that worthless son of a—” The magnitude of his sudden swell of anger made him stop short and he pressed his lips together tightly, letting the rest of his thought go unspoken. He paused and consciously released the fury in a small puff of breath. Only then, did he continue. “I think you were made to feel as if you weren’t worth having. And that just isn’t so.”

  She actually blinked then. However, doubt still shadowed her gaze.

  “Now, I don’t know how you came to the conclusion that I only wanted you because you’re Kolheek, but that argument is like a sieve that won’t hold water because—” here he let his voice grow soft “—honey…I’m Kolheek, too.”

  “But you haven’t experienced what it means to be Indian,” she told him in a rush, evidently thinking that this somehow substantiated her thoughts. “I can give the boys—”

  His frown was deep as he stopped her with an upraised hand. “You think this has something to do with Josh and Jared?” He straightened in the chair. “Honey, what I’m feeling for you—what we feel for each other—has absolutely nothing to do with the boys. And if you’re honest with yourself, honest about the emotions we’ve been experiencing, you’ll admit that I’m right.”

  Stubbornness firmed her chin, her lips compressing with her obvious refusal to agree with him. Okay, he thought, so she wasn’t going to admit it out loud. But he knew she was slowly and silently coming to acknowledge his claim. Her resolve was cracking. He could see it in her eyes.

  “I won’t sit here and try to make you think,” he said, “that your being Kolheek has nothing to do with what I’m feeling. Because it may have a lot to do with it.”

  She blanched, and for a moment it was clear that she meant to close herself off from him again. But before she could wall up every bit of herself from him, he reached out and touched her sleeve.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.” The fabric of her blouse felt whispery-soft under his fingertips as he slid his hand up her forearm and then back down to her wrist. “
Meeting you. Hearing the things you have to say about—” He cut off the thought, but then forced himself to say “—about our people has opened up a whole new world for me. You make me feel as if I’ve…I don’t know. As if I’ve found refuge. As if the possibility for vindication is…is…available.” Immediately he corrected, “Not only available, but imminent.”

  The bewilderment wrinkling her brow gave him pause.

  “Vindication?” When she shook her head, a lock of her silky black hair fell across the back of his hand.

  Travis moistened his suddenly dry lips. “You see…”

  He stopped. Took a deep breath. What he was about to reveal wasn’t going to be easy. He’d never told anyone what he’d done all those years ago. But now he felt a tremendous need to confess. He needed Diana to know and understand. But he wanted so desperately to tell her everything without offending her in any way.

  Start at the beginning, a small voice echoed from the back of his mind.

  “When I was young, we never talked about my mother’s Native American heritage. My heritage. And to this day, I can’t tell you why. My mother refuses to talk about where she came from. Refuses to discuss her family.” He lifted both his hands, palms up, in a gesture meant to convey his bafflement. “Neither I nor my brother ever made a big deal about it. We simply grew up thinking of ourselves as proud Americans. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

  Reaching up, he pinched his chin between his fingers and averted his gaze, unwilling to witness the disappointment in her eyes when she discovered his folly. “However, when I was a senior in high school, I was encouraged by a guidance counselor to use my Native American race as an edge when applying to colleges. An edge that would open more doors for me where educational scholarships were concerned. I desperately wanted to attend college. And medical school. So I did it. I used my Native American heritage.” He swallowed, then leveled his gaze on her. “And I feel guilty as hell about it.”

  Confusion continued to mar her forehead and cloud her gaze. “But—”

  “I certainly meant no disrespect,” he blurted. “And as soon as I was able, I began doing some reading about…about The People.”

  Why did that phrase continue to stick in his throat? Maybe because he didn’t feel worthy to be a part of his own rich heritage?

  “I contacted the Kolheek reservation,” he continued. “I registered as a member. I…I’ve wanted to be a part of…of…” He shook his head. “But I never felt as if they’d…as if I…”

  Frustration got the better of him.

  “Travis.”

  Her soft voice was like a magnet that drew his gaze to her face.

  “You’re speaking as if,” she said, “well, as if you aren’t a part of The People.”

  “That’s exactly how I feel. As if I’m an outsider looking in.”

  “But your mother is full-blooded Kolheek,” she said. “That makes you Kolheek, too. It doesn’t matter that your mother—for whatever reason—doesn’t want to recognize her Indian heritage. Refusing to honor and appreciate your birthright doesn’t make it null and void. Your mother is still Kolheek. You are still Kolheek.”

  Warmth spread all through his body, and Travis identified it as pure happiness.

  “I’ve been slowly coming to that conclusion,” he explained. “And you are the reason that I have. You’ve made me feel that I can be a part of what it means to be Indian. And that…and that I won’t be turned away.”

  He noticed that the wary woman who had been sitting before him moments before was gone, and in her place sat the calm counselor, the nurturer, the Medicine Woman who was concerned for nothing but his welfare.

  “You think because you haven’t grown up on the reservation,” she said, “that the Kolheek would reject your desire to know more about your ancestry? That we’d decline you access to us?” Her eyes turned gentle. “We couldn’t do that. You are who you are. You’re Kolheek.”

  “But—”

  “No buts,” she interrupted. “Travis, there are more Kolheek people living off the reservation than on. There are Kolheek living all over this great country of ours. Some living abroad, too. You can’t feel guilty simply because you used who and what you are as an edge. You can’t feel guilty about not knowing much about your history. You’re doing what you can to make up for that.”

  He felt grateful for her wonderfully convincing argument.

  “In fact,” she continued more softly, “I think that maybe I have an idea. Something that might make you feel more a part of, more embraced by your ancestry. How would you like to take part in the naming ceremony?”

  He didn’t understand. “But, as the boys’ father, won’t I be a part of it all?”

  “Of course. But I’m talking about you having your own ceremony. You acquiring your own Kolheek name.”

  A chill coursed across his skin and the small hairs at the back of his neck raised. “But isn’t the ceremony just for children?”

  One of her shoulders lifted a fraction. “Usually. But aren’t you still in the infancy of discovering your past?”

  He couldn’t stop the smile that crept across his mouth, nor could he quell the emotion that misted his eyes. This woman was wonderful. She was astonishing. And he knew at that very instant, that Diana was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his days with.

  “I—I…” He halted, hoping a deep and steady breath would help him to speak around the knots of emotion churning in his chest, rising in his throat. “I’d be honored to have a Kolheek name.”

  “Good.”

  Her smile was like golden sunshine.

  Now, he decided, it was time for him to finish what he’d come up here to say. It was time for him to make her understand.

  “Because you came into my home,” he said, “because you were willing to give Josh and Jared the very thing I never had, a solid foundation in Kolheek tradition, because you were willing to instruct me, I have begun to realize that I can be a part of it all. I can be proud of my heritage. And that wouldn’t have happened had you been anything else but Kolheek. That’s what I meant when I said just a few moments ago that I can’t say your being Kolheek doesn’t matter.”

  Panic paled her beautiful face. Clearly she hadn’t expected the conversation to once again become so intimate so quickly.

  “However,” he forced himself to continue, “it isn’t the Indian heritage that attracts me. It’s the woman. It’s the person you are. It’s the caring, loving individual who sets my heart to racing each and every time we’re together.”

  He clenched his teeth, scared to death to reveal the full truth, yet determined to go through with it. Now that he’d finally figured out just what Diana meant to him, he wanted her to know exactly how he felt.

  “It’s the very essence of you—” his voice sounded rough and grating even to his own ears “—that I’ve come to love. That’s what brought me to the conclusion that we’re soul mates.”

  There it was again, he saw. That defensive shield was being raised, like an impenetrable drawbridge meant to safeguard a castle from attack. The Medicine Woman was nowhere to be found. The counselor, the teacher, the mentor was gone. Dissolved like acid-splashed silk.

  All he perceived was a frightened woman who seemed desperate to protect herself.

  Chapter Nine

  He loved her. Oh, heaven forbid. Is that what he’d said?

  Yes. Yes, it was. And realizing that made her knees feel like warm rubber. Joy flared inside her chest like bursts of fireworks. Yet at the same time, she seemed overwhelmed with a frenzy of panic.

  Deep down, she’d known that she’d been wrong about his motives. Even while she’d been conjuring her misconceptions about why he’d changed his mind, she’d been plagued with a whispery doubt. Her subconscious knew he was an honorable man. And he’d been nothing but right when he’d said he—someone of Native blood—couldn’t be compared to Eric. There’s no way Travis could have meant to use her ethnicity when he was of the same race as she. The id
ea was ludicrous to say the least.

  So why had she misjudged him? Why had she trumped up those charges against him? Why had she deliberately misconstrued his motives?

  She knew why. Oh, she knew why. It was a last-ditch effort to save herself from utter humiliation.

  “I’m sorry.” Her apology was exhaled on a murmuring breath. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I accused you of trying to use me. I know it’s not the truth. I know it.”

  Chaos whirled in her mind. She didn’t want to reveal her own motives. She didn’t want him—or anyone, for that matter—to know the truth about her.

  “I’m actually glad you changed your mind about…” The phrase hovered on the tip of her tongue, and she was afraid she might not be able to bring herself to speak it, but she bolstered herself and said, “Loving relationships.”

  The intensity in his shining, crow-wing eyes forced her to look away.

  “I had hoped that you would come to see that relationships…well, that they’re a very important part of a person’s life.”

  “I do see that now,” he told her.

  Still, she was unable to look at him. She felt quivery, off-kilter.

  Why? Oh, why was this awful trick being played on her? Why did Travis have to enter her life, plead his love for her, when her only recourse was to deny him? It was like some cruel and inhumane joke.

  “I’d believed from the very beginning,” he said, “that fate had brought Jared and Josh into my life.”

  “I know you did.”

  “I don’t understand how I could have been so blind to the fact that fate brought you into my life, too.”

  The silence was stentorian. The very air felt as though it pulsed and throbbed. She lifted her gaze to meet his.

  “But fate brought Tara into your life, too. Just as Eric was brought into mine.”

  He didn’t hesitate to answer, “She was a test. A lesson. And your ex was your test. Your lesson.”

  Diana had known the point she’d attempted to make was thin at best.