Texas Christmas

by Holly Castillo

  He laughed, a warm and rich sound, and Gabby felt her heart skip a beat. She licked her lips nervously. She would not like this man. She could not like this man. He was in a battle with her about the way to heal people, whether he knew it or not. She’d yet to meet an honest doctor, and she suspected Doctor Luke was hiding more than his fair share of secrets from her. An uneasy shiver ran down her spine as she was reminded of her own secret.

  “If you knew the number of crazy things I did as a young bloke, you’d be astonished that I’m still alive at all.”

  He was smiling at her. And she had forgotten she was driving the mule. He calmly took the reins from her as if she had passed them over and he urged the mule forward. She couldn’t stop looking at him. He was very different than anyone she had ever known, and she didn’t know if that was because he was from London, because he was a doctor, or a combination of all the other factors that seemed to be one giant puzzle that was this man.

  “You know, a helpful young miss informed me yesterday that staring isn’t polite,” he said, his tone calm and casual and not accusatory in any way.

  Gabby sat upright in the cart in a snap and stared down at her gloved hands for several long moments. Finally: “I suppose I was a bit harsh on you yesterday, and I understand it was your intention to help my prima. I suppose I should be grateful she felt she could trust you with her care.”

  “Yet you aren’t.”

  Gabby kept her eyes fixed on her gloved hands as memories rushed back to her, memories she didn’t want. “I was fifteen when the Texas Revolution ended at San Jacinto. My mother and I had already been following the path of Santa Anna to help the wounded. When we came to San Jacinto—it was horrifying. The death and the carnage were almost unbearable to witness. But then—then we meet the ‘doctors’ who were literally tearing limbs from these young men and barely even giving them a bandage before calling for the next victim.”

  “War is a terrible thing.” Something in the tone of his voice had changed, and her eyes shot to his face. His expression was cold.

  “Have you been to war, Doctor Davenport?”

  “You might say that. Medicine in the field is far different than in the controlled environment you and your mother were used to.”

  “I agree completely. But half of those men didn’t need to have their limbs removed. Easily half who died from gangrene could have been saved before it came to that. From what I could tell, these ‘specially trained doctors’ were nothing more than glorified butchers.”

  “It’s a good thing I haven’t been trained by the scholars in your country, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Some of those doctors came from overseas. How do I know you aren’t trained to do just the same?”

  He squinted and when he turned to look at her, the blue eyes that had caught her breath before made her want to shiver from cold. He was a haunted man, and his ghosts floated in the sea storm of his eyes. “Then you should be grateful that you are here to take care of the family and they won’t have need of me.”

  “Doctor Davenport, I—I know I come across, uh, a bit difficult. But I’m not trying to accuse you of things. I’m simply trying to make sure you’re as dedicated to your craft as I am to mine.”

  “What exactly is your craft, Miss Torres?”

  Gabby leaned back from him, slightly shocked by his question. “Healing, of course, the same as you.”

  “Hmm,” he mused, turning his attention back towards their destination: the market at Main Plaza. “I suppose that remains to be seen.”

  Gabriella Torres was dangerous. She knew how to ask just the right questions to get under his skin. She made him want to pick up and head out of San Antonio and even further West. But there would always be someone like her no matter where he went. Questioning him. Doubting him. Resenting him.

  But at the moment, she was the most alluring thing he had ever seen. She seemed to practically be dancing through the market, picking out long stems of evergreens, oranges, apples, and spices. She was also getting enough beans, flour, sugar, and other vittles to feed a small army. He smiled and nodded as the people spoke to him, took the items, and loaded the wagon, only to turn around and go back for more. When he thought there was nothing left for her to purchase, he found her among a stand of flowers and potted poinsettias.

  She turned at his approach, and her smile nearly stopped him in his path. Good God, she’s stunning. The thought startled him. It was the last thing he had thought he would feel towards the woman who tested his patience and the discipline he had worked so hard to achieve. It’s just an observation. Nothing more.

  “Doctor Davenport?”

  If it was just an observation, then why did you completely miss what she has been saying to you? “What was that again, Miss Torres?”

  Her brow wrinkled in confusion and she shook her head, then blinked and began again. “We’ll need about twenty of the poinsettias, but they are kind enough to bring them to the cocina later today. I just need you to bring these flowers to the wagon, and we’ll be finished.”

  Luke eyed the large stack of flowers with skepticism. This would be a daunting task, especially given how full the wagon was already. A soft, whimsical chuckle at his elbow drew his attention and Gabby was smiling up at him. “I’ll help you. And don’t worry, I’ll carry a lot of the flowers up front with me. I’m sure the wagon has gotten a bit full.”

  “Oh, hardly. Are you sure you don’t need barrels of beverages or anything else?” he quipped.

  “Those will be delivered later. You must know your way around fandangos.”

  He couldn’t tell if she was being serious or joking with him. Barrels of beverages? Were they planning to feed the entire town? They both grabbed large bushels of flowers and headed towards the wagon. He had to slow his gait to compensate for her shorter strides, and he was rewarded by another one of her smiles. She stood by as he carefully loaded the bundle of flowers he held into the back of the wagon, and then he helped her get seated comfortably on the buckboard, still holding a large number of the flowers.

  “Are you certain you’ll be comfortable like that?”

  Gabby let out a soft sigh, and for the first time he saw weariness in her face. He hadn’t bothered asking her how far she had traveled, how her journey had been, or anything that would truly teach him something about her. But she hadn’t invited the pleasantries, either. If anything, she seemed to drive them away.

  “I’m quite comfortable. And, besides, think of how many people will believe you are lavishing me with all of these wonderful flowers.”

  Luke urged the mule forward, praying that nothing he had loaded fell out, and caught himself about to wrap his arm around the small woman next to him. The action had been completely subconscious, and he didn’t know where it had come from. But he had the strongest inclination she needed protecting, even though she was a total spitfire and could hold her own ground.

  He was relieved when they arrived at the cocina, or the family kitchen, and lunch service had just picked up. He took the flowers from her and delicately balanced them on top of the other items in the wagon, then turned back to her.

  He felt her catch her breath when his hands wrapped around her waist, and it was as if he had been struck hard in the chest. His eyes lifted to hers and he saw a swirl of colors that were extraordinary against her fair skin and dark hair. He felt as if she could see his soul with her eyes, and he was both afraid and tempted, dangerously tempted, to let her in.

  Her hands settled on his shoulders and he remembered he was supposed to be helping her down and he lifted her, marveling at how small she was when she came across larger than life. He pivoted and set her on her feet, but couldn’t let go of her. He had the sudden desire to wrap her in his arms, to ease her exhaustion and take the burden of her worries.

  I’m going daft, he thought suddenly, and forced himself to tear his eyes away from hers, her mystical eyes that had been looking at him so curiously. His heart was pounding in his eardrums, an
d he wanted nothing more than to kiss her, to taste those soft, pink lips that were slightly parted, tempting him.

  Her hands moved slowly across his shoulders and down to his biceps, then paused and went back up to his shoulders. “Th—thank you,” she stuttered, but neither of them parted. Suddenly the back door burst open and the men came out, grumbling about having to cook the meat for the noon meal.

  Luke and Gabby jumped apart quickly and Gabby turned towards the wagon, gathering up the bunches of flowers. The men froze when they saw the wagon. “Did you buy the entire market, Gabby?” Raphael asked, his voice incredulous.

  Gabby turned back to them, but avoided eye contact with Luke. “Olivia deserves to have the absolutely best Christmas possible. And we’re going to give it to her.”

  Raphael folded his arms across his chest and frowned. “You know what this means, right, gentlemen? This means Gabby is going to be working us to death over the next few days, and we have no say in the matter.”

  Gabby bared her teeth in the semblance of a smile at her brother, then looked over at Luke and her smile softened. “Will you help me get the items into the house?”

  How could he possible say no to the little vixen? Yes, that’s what she was. A vixen. She was using powers he had no idea about to make him want to be with her, to make him crave her smile and her touch. “Of course,” he replied gathering up the remaining bundles of flowers and following her into the house while the other men continued to scowl at the number of items still left in the wagon.

  “Gabriella, what have you done?” Angie asked in shock as they came into the house with all of the flowers.

  “This is going to be an extra special Christmas. I’m going to make sure of it.” She swept past Angie and into the living room where she placed the flowers on the long family dining table and Luke did the same.

  “I need to help with lunch service now...” Gabby’s voice trailed away, as if there was something more she wanted to say to Luke, but didn’t know how.

  “I’ll finish bringing the items in. Don’t fret about it.”

  She began to turn away from him, then turned back quickly. “This family is all I have. They are very important to me. So...I may be a bit overprotective at times.”

  He raised his eyebrows, surprised at what he was hearing.

  “I may have made a harsh judgment far too fast with you. And you didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t owe me an apology. I would give anything to have someone care as deeply for me as you care for your family.” Fool! You’ve said too much!

  She tilted her head and looked at him quizzically. “Don’t you have a family that cares for you?”

  He shook his head, finding it hard to speak. “My family is gone now. It is what made coming to San Antonio from London an easy choice.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean to open a sore wound.”

  He was about to say it was no longer a sore wound. He had come to terms with their deaths as a child. They had died when he was so young, he could barely remember his father. But he remembered his mother with great fondness. “I, too, may have judged you a bit harshly. I’ve heard terrible stories about healers, but you aren’t fitting the picture I had in mind. I’m also sorry. Truce?”

  He held out his hand to her and she slowly slid her small one inside his. His hand enveloped hers, and he could feel her pulse at the base of her wrist. It was racing. Was she scared? Nervous? Or excited and thrilled to be close, as he was? He released her hand reluctantly and turned for the kitchen.

  Once again she turned back to him. “Thank you for today. You’ve been so very helpful.”

  “It has been my honor,” he said, bowing slightly to her, and was rewarded by one of her wonderful smiles. And then she was gone, off to help her cousins with their noon lunch rush of customers seeking the delectable food they prepared every day.

  And the room felt empty and dark the moment she left.

  Gabby had a hard time focusing during lunch service. All she could think about was the feel of his hands around her waist and the way he had looked at her. No man had ever looked at her in such a way. If they had, she had never noticed. But she was also constantly surrounded by her big, burly brothers, so she doubted any man had been brave enough to even make eye contact with her.

  But there was something different about the doctor. There was strength and determination, and it was obvious he had worked hard in his life, judging by the callouses on his hands. She tried to guess his age and estimated he was in his late twenties, if not already thirty. At nineteen, she was already considered an old maid by many.

  She muddled her way through lunch service, then helped with the cleanup. But her mind was hardly on the task. It was on a man with dark brown hair and pale blue eyes that could be a raging storm or a block of ice.

  “You seem incredibly distracted,” Serena said with a slight grin, as if she knew something that no one else did.

  “Oh, Serena, there’s just so much that needs to be done for the posada and for Christmas. I think I’m going to put the doctor to work on decorations to help me some.”

  “It seems you and the doctor are getting along much better now. It’s nice to see.”

  Gabby forced a smile to her face. “He is helpful and seems to be as kind as someone from overseas can be. So we tolerate each other.”

  “Hmm,” was Serena’s only response, though the smile remained on her face.

  As soon as the kitchen was clean, and the men outside had finished cleaning the grill and preparing it for the next day, Gabby took advantage of the chance to grab Luke as he walked in. He smelled of the barbecue smoke, and she had never thought of it as an alluring smell, but on him, she found it very appealing. She wanted to slap herself.

  “I need your help, Doc,” she said, trying to keep her tone even so no one would know the turmoil running through her.

  He immediately paused, his eyes roving over her with concern. “Are you hurt? Did something happen?”

  Gabby’s heart thudded in her ears. Was he really worried about her? Was he really ready to tend to her if she was in need? But she forced the thoughts to the side. He was a doctor, her enemy. If she truly were in need of medical help, he would be the last person she would turn to...right?

  “I’m fine. I need you to help me with the decorations. Come join me in the family dining room—we have a lot of work to do.”

  The other men snickered and Gabby turned fierce eyes on them. “I’ll need you to handle the poinsettias that are to be delivered this afternoon. As well as a few barrels of wine.”

  Their snickers turned to groans and Cade even tried to bargain with Luke to trade places. But Gabby stood firm in her decision and ended up grabbing Luke by the arm and pulling him along with her to the dining room.

  Luke looked completely lost. He followed her blindly, but she saw the look of apprehension on his face. “Don’t worry. Just think of the garland you made as a child. Then you’ll be able to make this garland.”

  An odd expression crossed his face, one that looked extremely sad. She wanted to ask him what he was thinking about, but just as fast as the look crossed his face, it was gone. “Sounds easy enough,” he said, though his voice was strained.

  Gabby had already organized the flowers and bunches of greenery into a functional assembly line, but she saw concern on his face. “It’s very simple. Just take the greenery and weave it together. I’ll add the flowers as we go along.”

  He hesitantly began to move the greenery around, but his movements were awkward. Gabby watched him for a few moments, frowning slightly as the crease of confusion in her forehead grew with each moment. “You remember how to make garland, right?” she finally asked.

  He fidgeted with the greenery a little longer, then looked up at her, a hopeless expression on his face. “I don’t know how to make garland,” he admitted; though, by his stance he was prepared for her to laugh at him.

  Gabby had no intenti
on of laughing at him, and she felt her face turn crimson with a blush. “Oh, I’m such a fool. You probably have people who do all of this for you in London. I’m sorry, Doctor—”

  “Just call me Luke, please. I’m here as a visitor to your family, and that’s all.”

  Gabby gave him a weak smile. “I really am sorry for assuming you would know how to make this garland. I’m sure in London there were people making it in massive quantities for all of the folks decorating their homes.”

  She moved around the table and stood next to him, gathering the strands of greenery and with quick and agile hands, began to bring the bright green and deep green pieces together, using wire she had placed at one end of the table to hold them together. She then grabbed some of the flowers that she had been working on while he fumbled around, and carefully placed them within the greenery, careful not to tear the small bag of water she had fashioned around each stem to keep them perky and alive for the next two weeks.

  “That is amazing,” Luke said, leaning over her to observe her work. He reached around her, pressing against her back, as his finger trailed over the delicate, intricate design she had just made.

  Her heart began to pound so hard she thought it was going to beat through her chest. Surely he could hear it. His other hand draped over her shoulder, almost as if it was a natural position to take, leaning against her, holding her gently.

  “It’s beautiful. And you did it with such ease.”

  His voice was right against her ear and a slight shiver ran down her spine as his breath blew over her neck. “Luke...” she said softly, turning her head slightly and they were suddenly nearly nose to nose.

  His eyes dropped to her face, and the hand that had been touching the greenery moved up and cupped her cheek, his thumb lightly brushing the delicate skin. She was finding it hard to breathe, and couldn’t take her eyes off of his lips. They were accentuated by the light shadow of his whiskers, and she couldn’t think clearly.

  “Vixen,” he whispered softly, his eyes searching hers. “You must be a vixen, because of the things you make me think.”