His Medicine Woman

by Stella Bagwell

  Blowing out a heavy breath, he did his best to shake his mind of the past and quickly descend the last of the trail.

  Bridget was sitting in the Chino living room, talking on her cell phone to her receptionist when the front door opened and Johnny entered the house.

  Her heart lurched, then sped into a heavy thud as he gave her a cursory glance before walking on past her and out of the room.

  “That’s fine, Janna. I’ll make my rounds at the hospital after I see my last patient at the clinic. Six-thirty, seven. We’ll see how it goes. Yes—probably in an hour. Thanks—bye.”

  Rising from the couch, she clicked the phone shut and after dropping it into the pocket of her gray slacks, headed to Naomi’s room.

  As soon as she rounded the open doorway, she spotted Johnny standing next to the head of his grandmother’s bed. The gentle expression on his features was a vast contrast to the hard glare he’d given Bridget after that kiss they’d shared earlier in the kitchen. But that hardly surprised her. She’d always gotten the impression that Johnny hated himself for wanting her, loving her.

  Trying to ignore the wincing pain in her chest, she moved forward until she was standing on the opposite side of the bed from him, which was thankfully on the side where she’d erected the IV.

  “Good news, Naomi,” she told her patient, as she shut off the flow of liquid medications. “It looks like I can unhook your IV now.”

  “That’s all of it?” Naomi asked weakly.

  Bridget carefully lifted the woman’s hand to clamp off the shunt. “We’re finished with this for today. But you’re going to need another one tomorrow. I’m going to leave all of this stuff in your hand so I won’t have to stick you again,” she explained. “But it’s all taped down securely so nothing should move or hurt. If it does, tell Johnny, okay?”

  Nodding faintly, Naomi turned her milky gaze on her grandson. His only response was to touch a hand to his grandmother’s hair.

  With tears stinging the back of her eyes, Bridget hurriedly gathered up her medical instruments and organized the prescriptions she was leaving for the woman to take later tonight.

  “When are you coming back?” Naomi asked as Bridget hastily scratched instructions on a small piece of notepaper.

  “Tomorrow. Unless you need me before then.” Turning back to the bed, she folded her hand around Naomi’s shoulder and gently squeezed. “I’m leaving my number on the nightstand. If you need me for anything—day or night—have Johnny call me. Okay?”

  To Bridget’s delight, the old woman attempted to smile.

  “Yes. I will. Thank you.”

  Ignoring the usual doctor/patient protocol she normally practiced, Bridget leaned down and kissed Naomi’s cheek.

  “You’re going to get better soon,” Bridget promised her.

  After telling the woman goodbye, she gathered up her medical bag, then motioned for Johnny to follow her out of the room.

  Once they were in the hallway, she purposely kept her words and her voice professional. “You’ll find her medications and the schedule for taking them on the nightstand. Keep offering her fluids throughout the day. If she needs to get up for any reason, like a trip to the bathroom, you or Charlie need to be by her side to assist her. She’s so weak she might fall and hurt herself. If you see any change for the worse don’t hesitate to call me. I’ve left my cell number with the medicine schedule.”

  Except for his gaze traveling over her face, his expression was unmoving and she could only guess as to what he was thinking, feeling. To say he was a man who kept his emotions hidden was an understatement, but Bridget knew better than to pry or prod. She had always understood it was hard for him to share that private part of himself with anyone, even her.

  He said, “I’m sorry this is causing problems with your schedule.”

  His gaze followed her hand as it smoothed back her hair. “Don’t worry about it. I’m used to having my days and nights interrupted. It’s just a part of the job. Now I’d better be going. I have to be back at the clinic in less than an hour.”

  Not waiting for a reply, she ducked her head and started to step around him, but his unexpected words stopped her.

  “I—was wrong to say those things to you in the kitchen,” he said in a low, strained voice.

  “Yes. You were,” she agreed.

  He closed his eyes and it was all Bridget could do to keep from dropping her bag to the floor and flinging her arms around him. To be close to him, to love him was all that she’d ever wanted, needed.

  “These past two days have been very hard for me,” he admitted.

  “I understand. You love your grandmother very much. You don’t want to lose her.”

  His eyes opened to stare straight into hers. The contact jolted her, filled her chest with an ache so all-consuming it very nearly took her breath.

  “I’m talking about you,” he said flatly. “You being here again. Touching you again.”

  “Oh,” she said softly, then swallowed hard as her throat thickened with tears. “Well, count yourself lucky that you’ve only had to suffer for two days, Johnny, because the last five years have been very hard for me.”

  She didn’t wait around to see what sort of reply, if any, he might give her. She quickly stepped around him and left the house.

  Chapter Five

  Later that night Bridget parked in front of the Donovan ranch house and climbed wearily from her Jeep. It was past ten o’clock and the day’s grueling schedule had ended less than an hour ago. Exhaustion was weighing her down, making her movements lethargic as she reached behind the seat to fetch her jacket and medical bag.

  A little more than an hour ago, after she’d finished making her rounds at Sierra General, she’d called the Chino house to check on Naomi. Charlie had answered and after exchanging a few spare words with the older man, he’d called his grandson to the phone.

  Hearing Johnny’s voice had caused her raw nerves to clench into unbearable knots, but she’d been determined to hold on to her composure like any strong, dedicated doctor had been trained to do. She’d kept her questions about Naomi simple and brief and he’d answered them the same way.

  After deciding that Naomi was certainly no worse, Bridget informed him she’d be there in the morning, bright and early. Johnny had given her a curt thank-you, then ended the phone connection. So as not to give her a chance to get personal, she thought dourly.

  With a heavy sigh, she started up the walkway leading to the house. Halfway to the portico, she caught the sound of an approaching vehicle and glanced over her shoulder to see Brady pulling a black sheriff’s department truck to a stop in the driveway. Pausing on the stone pathway, she waited for her brother to climb to the ground and catch up with her.

  “Are you just now getting home?” he asked as he pecked a swift kiss on her cheek.

  “The first time I’ve been home since Conall’s reception,” she told him.

  Curling his arm around her drooping shoulders, he urged her forward. “Damn, but I’m glad I never got the itch to become a doctor,” he said.

  If she’d had enough energy to spare, she would have laughed. Instead the most she could muster was a weary smile. “No, you were far more sensible by wanting to be a lawman. You not only get called out to emergencies at odd hours, you get shot at once you get there.”

  “Okay, so I’m not the smartest one in the herd, but I’ll bet you five dollars you’re called out on emergencies way more often than me, Brita.”

  She sighed as she waited for him to open the wide, carved door. “You’d probably win,” she agreed. A little more than a year ago, Brady had been promoted to the position of Undersheriff of Lincoln County and with that higher rank had come even more responsibilities that kept her brother more than busy.

  Inside the dark house, brother and sister made their way through the great room and down a long hallway illuminated with the subtle glow of tiny foot lamps.

  “What’s with everybody tonight? You’d think the
re’d be somebody around to greet us,” Brady commented as they neared a long staircase that led up to a group of bedrooms.

  “They’re smart. They’ve gone to bed. Like I’m going to do,” Bridget told him. “If I can find the strength to drag myself upstairs.”

  Before she could place her foot on the bottom step, Brady halted her motion with a hand on her arm. “Wait just a minute. Have you eaten dinner?”

  Bridget let out a mocking groan. “Dinner? I’ve not even had lunch. I’ll catch up on food tomorrow.”

  “Whoa, sis. I’m not a doctor, but I’m smart enough to know that fuel is needed to restore a human body. C’mon. I’ve not eaten, either. We’ll find something in the kitchen.”

  Too tired to protest, Bridget allowed her brother to tug her down the hallway until they reached the kitchen; a long room equipped to produce large meals on a daily basis. Except for a light burning over the heavy-duty cookstove, the room was dark and empty, but the scent of food lingered. Opal, the Donovans’ longtime cook, always made sure there were leftovers stored in the refrigerator for any late stragglers who came in hungry.

  Brady sniffed appreciatively. “I smell steak. Do you?”

  Weaving on her feet, she protested, “I’d rather smell a mattress with clean sheets.”

  He pushed her into one of the oak chairs pulled up to a large, round table. “Sit,” he ordered. “I’ll find the leftovers.”

  Five minutes later they were both eating from plates of food that Brady had warmed in the microwave.

  As he shoveled up a forkful of mashed potatoes and gravy, he asked, “So what’s going on at the clinic? A pandemic or something? I’ve not seen you this tired in a long time.”

  Bridget forced herself to chew a piece of the rare steak Brady had piled onto her plate. “Nothing like that. I’ve just had several things going at once,” she answered.

  “Well, the other night at Conall’s party, you raced out of here like a fire was nipping at your heels.”

  For a moment Bridget considered steering her brother’s conversation in a different direction, but just as quickly she decided it would be childish to avoid telling him about her trip to the res. After all, he didn’t have the least idea that his sister and his best friend had ever exchanged a long, smoldering look, much less had a fiery affair. Besides, he was bound to find out sooner or later that Naomi was ill.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t take time to explain,” she said, her gaze fixed firmly on the food on her plate. “I had to make a trip to the reservation. Actually, your friend Johnny is the one who summoned me. His grandmother is very ill.”

  “Naomi? What’s the matter with her?”

  The genuine concern in his voice had her glancing up at her brother. “Lung congestion is the main problem.”

  He shook his head. “Her age can’t be helping.”

  “Actually, it’s not as much of a contributing factor as you’d think. If it weren’t for her contracting the flu, she appears to be in pretty good shape for her age.”

  “Well, she and Charlie are both as tough as boot heels. They’ve had to be,” he added grimly.

  Bridget stabbed her fork into a mound of snow peas. “Why do you say it like that?”

  “Plenty of reasons. I’ve told you before, haven’t I, that they raised Johnny from the day he was born?”

  Her heart winced. It wasn’t Johnny’s fault that his mother had been a wild and troubled soul. Yet Bridget had no doubt that the woman’s desertion had left an indelible mark on him. However, Brady had no idea that Bridget carried around such intimate details about his best friend.

  “Yes. I recall you telling me that his mother was killed—in a highway crash.”

  “That’s right. And her drunken driving very nearly wiped out a whole family along with her. But, thank God, they managed to avoid a head-on with her. I don’t think Johnny could have dealt with knowing his mother was a killer—along with the other things.”

  Pretending only a casual interest, she asked, “What do you mean by ‘other things?’”

  Frowning, he said, “Johnny told me things about his mother in confidence, one that I’m not about to break. So I’ll just say that she made some stupid choices. She was—anything but a good mother.”

  Sighing, Bridget put down her fork and wiped a hand over her face. “We’re very lucky, Brady. Our family is normal and we have parents who love us. Johnny just happened to have been dealt a short hand.”

  He cast a curious glance in her direction. “You say that like you know him personally.”

  Brady’s comment caused her to pause and ponder. Did she know Johnny? she asked herself. Really know him? During that brief period when he’d allowed her into his life, she’d believed he’d shown her the deepest part of him, the part that no one had ever seen. Yet now, after all these years, she doubted that she, or anyone, had ever seen the true Johnny Chino, the man so carefully hidden behind a bronze face and tough body.

  “I feel as though I do,” she carefully explained. “Through you.”

  “Oh.” After swallowing down a few more hurried bites of food, he went on, “I don’t get why Johnny called you. There’s an Indian hospital not all that far from their house. And if I’m not mistaken I think the reservation has health care people who make house calls.”

  She’d already been over this with Maura, she thought wearily. Why did her siblings have to be so nosy? And how was she going to answer Brady without raising a bright red flag?

  What the heck, she suddenly decided. Maybe one of the biggest mistakes she’d made with Johnny was agreeing to keep their relationship a secret. She’d only done so because he’d asked her to. And because she’d wanted to give him time to get used to the idea of them being a couple before they let the world see them together. But clearly he’d had other ideas about the whole situation. He’d ended things before anyone could guess their connection.

  “You’re right,” Bridget said after a moment. “But Naomi refused to leave the house. And she…only agreed to let me treat her.”

  “You? I don’t get it. I wasn’t even aware that the woman knew you were a doctor. I don’t recall telling her that I had a sister who was a doctor.”

  At the time Bridget had been seeing Johnny, she’d just graduated medical school and was about to start her internship. Bridget hadn’t actually become a full-fledged physician until a couple of years ago, long after their affair had ended. But apparently Naomi had remembered Bridget’s career plans. Either that, or Johnny had told her. And she couldn’t imagine the latter happening. Once they’d parted ways, Bridget doubted he’d ever discussed her with his grandparents for any reason.

  “I met Naomi before—a long time ago. At a festival down on the reservation. I guess she remembered me telling her that I was going to medical school to become a doctor.”

  “Hmm. Wonder of wonders. My little sister going to an Apache festival. What else are you hiding behind that pretty face?” he teased.

  A whole lot of pain and regrets, she wanted to say. Your best friend took my heart and shredded it into bloody pieces. He made me love him, then told me it was impossible to bind our lives together. Now I’ll never have a husband and children. Because I gave all my love to him. I’m still giving all my love to him.

  “Oh. I’ve always been a bit of a wild child.” She did her best to joke around the pain in her chest.

  “So how is Naomi doing?” he asked.

  “Honestly, she should be hospitalized. But since she refuses, I’m doing all I can to help her get well at home. I’ll be going back down there in the morning to treat her. I’m praying I’ll find her improved.”

  Brady got up from the table and carried his plate over to the sink. “How would you like some company?” He suddenly threw the suggestion at her.

  Uncertain she’d heard him right, she asked, “What?”

  “I’m off duty tomorrow. I’d be glad to drive you to the reservation. I haven’t seen Johnny in a while. I want to let him know I’m availab
le if he needs me.”

  Brady’s offer caught her completely off guard and it took her a moment to consider the implications of showing up at the Chino home with her brother in tow. What would Johnny think? That she’d betrayed his trust and spoken about their past to Brady? Or perhaps he’d think she’d brought her brother along as an unknowing chaperone?

  Dear God, she was losing it. Johnny had clearly despised himself for kissing her this morning. A chaperone was the last thing she needed around him. Besides, it didn’t matter what Johnny thought, she mentally argued. She was going for Naomi’s benefit. Not his.

  She was unconsciously touching her fingertips to her bruised lips when Brady’s voice interrupted her tangled thoughts.

  “Brita? What’s wrong? If you don’t want me to go, just say so. I’m tough. If my sister doesn’t appreciate my company I’m sure as heck not going to cry about it.”

  Twisting her head around, she frowned at him. “Sorry! I was thinking of something else. Of course you’re welcome to go with me. I’d be glad to have you for company.”

  He grinned. “Great. What time will you be leaving?”

  “By seven, for sure. I’ll leave my Jeep at the clinic and you can pick me up there.”

  “Wow. You don’t intend to sleep in, do you?”

  Slowly she rose to her feet and carried her plate over to where her brother stood with his back resting against the cabinet counter. “A doctor can’t afford that luxury,” she told him. “Do you want to back out of going?”

  “Me?” He chuckled. “Don’t worry about me. Mary-Katherine will have me awake by five o’clock.”

  Brady’s six-month-old daughter was an adorable cherub with a head full of black curls and blue, blue eyes like her mother’s. The child had her daddy wrapped around her tiny little fingers and Bridget wouldn’t be a bit surprised to soon hear that Lass and Brady were expecting again. Having a wife and baby had changed his life in so many wonderful ways and Bridget was thrilled about his happiness. Especially since she and Brady had always been extra close. But there were moments, when Bridget watched him snuggle Mary-Katherine close in his arms or exchange a special look with his wife, that Bridget felt bereft and wondering why she couldn’t be as blessed with love as her brother.