by Dianne Drake
Probably without Chay—a thought she didn’t like thinking.
Joanna glanced wistfully out the side window of the RV. She was sitting in a comfy chair right now, feet tucked up, watching Chay chat with some old friends. He hadn’t told her his plans yet. Last night in that wonderful king-sized bed she’d tried out some particularly fetching feminine wiles on him just to get him to open up to her, but he had some particularly fetching wiles of his own to use on her and conversation about anything had been the last thing on their minds. She sighed, thinking back to the king-sized bed. That was the way life was meant to be lived.
Then this morning it had been back to work as usual. All day, and so many people to see, people who hadn’t known she and Chay would be there but wanted to be examined by a doctor anyway. Thank God the complaints had mostly been minor—aches, pains, nothing out of the ordinary. But like everything else, aches and pains took time, and at the time she’d expected to be on the road to the ranch, she’d been in the middle of explaining some typical osteoarthritis symptoms to Mapiya One Heart. She was somewhere over ninety, and very agitated that her knees had been giving her a few problems lately.
Joanna sighed. She couldn’t even think ahead to her own life at forty, and Mrs One Heart was chattering away about the big party she was planning for her hundredth birthday in a few years, wondering if Will Two Crows would put her picture in the Hawk newspaper when the time came. Such long-range plans, Joanna thought. To be admired in Mapiya’s case. In her own case, though, to be ignored.
Now, left alone to think, Joanna wondered about what was coming next. Leonard was stabilizing nicely, according to reports. At least he was out of Intensive Care now and had been transferred into a long-term, chronic care ward. Meaning there was nothing urgent about him any longer. Which was good.
So now all she had to worry about was diagnosing heaven only knew how many others like Leonard who’d neglected their health to a nearly fatal extent. Plus anybody with possible TB. And all that outside her regular duty of sore throats, menstrual cramps and an occasional wart.
“I need ten extra hours in the day,” she moaned, getting up and heading forward to the driver’s seat. As much as she wanted Chay to have these moments with friends, this behemoth certainly would not have the speed of her Jeep in getting on to her next medical chore, and she did need to get rolling pretty quickly in order to get it all done then get back here.
“OK, so it’s a little large.” Joanna climbed into the driver’s seat, took a look at the steering-wheel and the foot pedals, then glanced over her shoulder at the total size of what she’d be driving. It was so long she couldn’t see all the way to the back of it. “I can do this,” she said, gritting her teeth. Thanks to Chay’s generosity, for which she hoped to thank him another time or two before he left, this was her medical clinic on wheels now, and its purpose was fair compensation for its slowness. “No sweat. It’s just like a car.” She laughed. Yeah, right. No car could plow over buildings, trees, or other opposing structures the way this thing might if she wasn’t careful.
“I take it you’re driving?” Chay asked, climbing aboard.
“Got to learn some time. Now’s as good as any.”
“Want some help?”
“Nope.”
“Coaching?”
“Nope.”
He grinned at her. “Want me to run on ahead and post some warning signs that you’re coming through?”
Joanna rose and snaked her arms around his neck. “The only warning signs I want posted are the ones that will tell me when you’re coming through.”
“Right now?” He tossed his hat over on the kitchen counter.
“Before we leave town?”
“Well, let’s just say I was thinking about a nice, long shower before we head on back. I’m a little dusty…”
That was all he had to say. Joanna grabbed him around the waist and ground her hips into his. “It’ll be a tight fit.” She pulled her T-shirt over her head then tossed it, along with her baseball cap, on the kitchen counter next to Chay’s hat. “That’s better. Now we’ll have lots more room.”
Drawing in a ragged sigh, Joanna slipped into the warm shower spray and let the jets work their magic fingers over her for a little while as Chay struggled out of his dusty boots. A gentle steam rose up in the shower, fogging the glass door as she watched his distorted image through it. Even at so many blurred angles he was handsome—a handsome that went so much deeper than his surface. Sure, he probably went through his rotation of different women—men like Chay weren’t meant to be alone. She thought about that, Chay and someone else. Thought about it, felt the jab in her heart like no other pain she’d felt in her life, then put it away because she was only spoiling what little time she had with him. And as much as she cared for him, even loved him, and she was afraid she did, she was pragmatic. She’d known what this relationship was going into it, and what it would be going out.
So for now the only thing to do was love the moment, because their time was precious. Too precious to waste.
“Pardon me for asking, but we were going to spend some time in the shower together, weren’t we?” Joanna laughed. “Because it’s getting awful lonely in here all by myself, and if you don’t hurry on in I might just have to…take a shower.”
“Anything to oblige,” he said, opening the door.
First glance revealed that he was ready. Very ready, she discovered as she pulled him into her arms. “You don’t think everybody in Douay will think it’s strange that we haven’t left?”
He reached up and brushed a finger across her lips. “Don’t think about anything right now,” he murmured, tracing a path from her lips to her jawline. He lingered there for a moment, stroking her flesh so lightly she shivered against him.
Reaching up to his face, his beautiful face, she closed her eyes and ran her fingers over it as if to memorize every last detail. “Nice face,” she purred, standing on her toes to brush her lips over his. “Soft skin. I like my men in soft skin.”
Chay’s hand slid down her belly, between her legs and she gasped. “And I like my women eager.” He chuckled. “Are you eager?”
She placed a light kiss just below his ear, then nibbled his earlobe playfully. Then her tongue darted in and out of the hollow recess of his ear. “What do you think?” Sliding her hand down his belly, Joanna opened her eyes wide in astonishment when she found what she sought, and smiled boldly at him. “I do believe you’re rather eager yourself,” she teased, pushing her hips against the length of his hard shaft. She could feel his uneven breathing on her cheek and the uneven beating of her heart against his chest.
“Joanna,” he murmured. “Wakanda.”
“What does that mean?” she whispered.
“That you’re a woman who possesses magical powers, and you do—over me.” He caressed her neck, and she shuddered. Then he pulled her into his arms, and held her gently, exploring her shoulders with his lips. Her nipples were hard again, and as he rasped his tongue over them, they grew even harder. “Joanna,” he gasped again, pulling back. Everything was starting to happen too fast now. He wanted to enjoy her, to ravish every detail of their time together, to know every intimate inch of her and urge her to the same intimate exploration. More than anything else, though, he wanted to stretch this evening into an eternity. But the demands of sweet release were already threatening, and just as he ached for so much more than only the sexual release. So Chay moved back to the wall of the shower opposite her.
It was a brief stay, though, as he was driven to study and memorize her every detail. Joanna was so perfect, standing there waiting for him, her smile so tempting. So many possibilities, he thought, opening his arms to her and watching her fall into them and push herself once again to his full length. So many…
Brushing her breasts across his chest, she held her face up to him, pressing her mouth hungrily over his, and he could feel her pulse beat wildly against his chest, could feel the wetness of her tongue probe th
e depths of his mouth, seeking out all the recesses and delicate places. As she lifted her left leg and wrapped it around his right, and he took firm hold of her bottom and pulled her hard to him, he realized something in the passion of the moment that he’d been trying to fend off. He loved Joanna Killian. Dear God, he loved her. And he had to bite his lip to keep from shouting it out as they found their rhythm together. Mixed with the spray of the shower, the heat, and the raw emotions overtaking him, Chay shuddered to a climax that was far more soul-shattering than anything he’d ever thought could exist.
Afterward, as the shower spray was turning cool on his burning skin, he held her close and shut his eyes. Right then was a perfect moment, and he didn’t want to ruin it with all the uncertainties.
Later, after they were on the road, while Joanna was driving and Chay was fixing a snack, Joanna finally got up the courage to ask him the question she’d been dreading. It had been on the tip of her tongue, even as they’d made love, but she hadn’t wanted to spoil that moment. Even now, as she braced herself, she felt a queasiness in the pit of her stomach. But it had to be asked. There was no getting around it any longer.
“When are you going back to Chicago, Chay?” she asked, trying hard to sound casual about it. It was a long ride to the ranch, and there was plenty of time to do the asking. But there was no reason to wait any longer. She wanted to know when she needed to schedule a broken heart into her busy work days.
“Day after tomorrow. We’ll test the workers at the ranch, then I’ll go into Billings to see my mother and Macawi, and catch a plane back home.”
Back home. His words seemed so matter-of-fact. Not cold, but not full of concern either.
So much for that phase of her life. That was that.
Early October
“I just need a quick dose of Compazine, that’s all.” Instead of disrobing as Greg Reynolds had instructed her to do, probably more for his own satisfaction than medical reasons, Joanna paced back and forth in the tiny cubicle in the emergency department. She wasn’t a patient: she was there checking in on Leonard Ducheneaux, who was scheduled to be moved home in a day or two. But that stupid flu that had been following her around these past couple of days was playing fast and loose with her stomach. Compazine would quell the nausea, simple as that. Ibuprofen would take care of the headache. And a good night’s sleep would work miracles for her. By morning she’d be good as new and ready to go back to Rising Sun.
“But I should examine you first,” Greg said, grinning.
You wish, she thought. He wasn’t bad company, Joanna decided. The couple of times they’d had dinner together and seen a movie had been nice enough. Somewhat pleasant. Definitely no expectations on her part, though, because she didn’t do that any more. The only expectation in her life was for tomorrow’s work.
“So how’s the TB epidemic going out there?” he asked, finally handing her the paper cup with the pill.
“No epidemic. No one else tested positive, and everybody has been vaccinated. I’m still doing periodic checks, but so far we’re OK.” She popped the pill into her mouth and took the cup of water he offered. “I think we got lucky. Five positives and a couple of latent cases I’ll be keeping an eye on, but that’s it. And everybody who has it is back on their feet, doing well.” She’d been lucky. Considering what she’d worked with in Haiti, very lucky.
“Well, Jo, epidemic or not, you’re looking awfully tired.”
“Hard work will do that to you.” These days she was tired and then some, and the Indian Medical Alliances had told her she was mandated to take a week off as soon as they could find a temporary to replace her. As far as she was concerned, that couldn’t be soon enough. On good days she considered going to see Chay during that vacation. They talked several times a week, but he’d never invited her, even after she’d mentioned taking some time off. So on her bad days she thought about sleeping for that whole week. Sleeping, eating, sleeping some more. And if this flu didn’t let up, puking her guts out every now and then.
“Is that Indian doctor dude coming back to help you any time soon?”
“That Indian doctor dude has a surgical practice in Chicago.” She grimaced as another wave of nausea assaulted her, and grabbed the blue plastic basin Greg was holding out for her in case the nausea erupted.
“I’m sensing that tonight wouldn’t be a good night to ask you out for pizza.”
Joanna rolled her eyes at him then vomited into the basin.
“How are you feeling, Leonard?”
He nodded politely. Physically, he was coming along. Some weakness on the left side compromised his arm and made him dependent on a quad cane, but he was walking now, several steps at a time. Only he wasn’t talking. Hadn’t said a word to anyone. The speech therapist had diagnosed him as aphasic, but Joanna wondered. Aphasia was an impairment of the ability to use or comprehend words, usually acquired as a result of a stroke or other brain injury. But when she looked into Leonard’s eyes, she didn’t see impairment at all. She saw the keen intellect she’d always seen there, making her think that this could be his stubbornness coming through—some form of protest rather than a malady.
“I’ve made arrangements to have you transferred home, and Wenona and Macawi will be taking over your therapy. You do understand that even though I’m letting you leave the hospital, you’ve got to continue working. You’re not going to improve your physical function if you don’t.”
He nodded again, then turned his attention to the window. His view outside was only the asphalt parking lot, and he stared at that parking lot for hours on end, she’d been told. Possibly depression. It happened. But she’d done everything she could to assure him that his outlook was good, because it was, if he was willing to do the hard work.
“I talked to Chay yesterday.” She waited for a reaction, but, like every time she mentioned Chay’s name, she never got one. “He’s doing fine. He was promoted to the head of his department a couple of weeks ago.”
Still no reaction. Heavens, this was a stubborn man. “He’s the youngest person ever to make department head in orthopedics. I should think you’d be proud of him.” She was proud of him, even if Leonard wasn’t. “You’re never going to forgive him, are you? He’s made a success of his life, doing what makes him happy, but that’s not good enough for you. And frankly, Leonard, I don’t understand that. You’ve been glad to accept all the medical treatment we’ve been giving you, and you’re smart enough to see how well you’ve done with it. In spite of it all, you’re still shutting him out.
“Well, it hurts him, Leonard. But it hurts you, too. Healing has as much to do with emotional ailments as it does spiritual or physical, and all I can tell you is that Chay fulfils the role of shaman much better than you do, even though he’s not convinced he believes in it. I actually saw him act as a shaman, and he was kind and generous and caring. And he cared for the whole person, not just parts of it. But I don’t think you can do that any more, you’ve become so closed-minded. Sure, your extraction might have made our treatment of Michael Red Elk easier, but I’m not sure you could have sat with Donna Rousseau the night she died and guided her over the way Chay did. Which is what you’re supposed to be about, Leonard. But you’re not. You’re the one who needs the extraction. You need to have your bad energy removed.”
Even that didn’t get a rise out of him, and she’d thought it would. Normally, she didn’t react quite so forcefully with her patients, but she’d hoped a little force might push Leonard back in the right direction. She’d even warned Wenona about what she intended to do. But she’d failed. Leonard hadn’t blinked, hadn’t flinched, hadn’t even experienced a change in breathing. Joanna headed to the door, drained.
At least the Compazine was kicking in. Maybe that was the best she could hope for.
“Will my son care for his child?” Leonard asked just as Joanna stepped into the hall. “Assume the responsibility of being a father like a man should do?”
Joanna spun back around. “H
is child?” she sputtered. Chay had never said anything about having a child. Not when they were together intimately, and not in the weeks since. She couldn’t even comprehend the fact that Chay had a child somewhere. Certainly, he’d been good with Kimimela…
Oh, no! Not possible. But…Joanna did the math. Kimi was seven, Chay hadn’t been there for eight years. Kimi had no known father. Chay had a particular affection for the little girl and, more than that, Kimi had such a strong bond to Chay the first time they met. Definitely possible!
The list was adding up too quickly, and she brought a mental halt to it. It was Chay’s life, and there was nothing between them that had ever hinted at something permanent. So it was none of her business. None of her business that Kimi wasn’t working out with any of the temporary placements set up for her, that she was sullen and unhappy and becoming a discipline problem. None of her business that Kimi might have a father who was more than able to look after her, but who refused. None of her business that Kimi adored Chay but, like Chay’s own father, he had turned his back on his child. That was, if Kimi belonged to Chay.
No, this was none of her business at all. Even so, Joanna’s stomach started to roil and she was forced to dart into Leonard’s bathroom to vomit one more time. So much for the Compazine.
Settling into her Billings apartment for the evening, on medical call to no one for any reason for the next few hours, Joanna looked at the canned tomato soup she’d heated up for her supper, decided it was too bland to waste good effort eating it, and dumped it in the sink. Sleep was a better use of her time anyway, and since the nausea had finally died down and her head wasn’t thumping, she took advantage and tumbled into bed well before eight o’clock. That would give her ten blessed hours before she had to return to Rising Sun. And hours asleep meant hours she didn’t have to think about Chay.