Medicine Man's Affair

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Medicine Man's Affair Page 15

by Doreen Owens Malek


  A few days before she was to start her new job, Jennifer found herself at a coffee shop making a mental list of everybody she was going to sue and abusing Lee Youngson and his descendants for three generations, one of whom she was carrying in her belly. The restaurant was filled with itinerant truck drivers and farm workers who called to each other in indecipherable Southern accents and wiped faces perspiring from the seventy-five-degree weather and eighty percent humidity. Jennifer felt that she had been transported to another country, so foreign did the environment seem. And when the waitress yodeled after her, “Y’all come back now, heah?” her throat tightened with unshed tears. My God, she even missed Joe Thornridge.

  She took possession of her apartment that afternoon and got the moving company to deliver her things. She collapsed that night and slept on the floor, using a tablecloth for a blanket.

  * * * *

  The next morning, she read in the Tampa newspaper that Lee had been discharged from the hospital.

  Chapter 10

  Jennifer was in the middle of stacking books on the bottom shelf of a wicker étagère when the doorbell rang. Sighing, she dusted her palms on her jeans and got off her knees, swiping ineffectually at the wisps of hair that fell around her face. After a full day of unpacking, she was really in no condition to greet anyone. But it was probably just another of her new neighbors stopping by with a cake. Two were already sitting on the kitchen table. Marveling at the miracle of Southern hospitality, she pulled open the door of the apartment with a manufactured smile.

  It vanished very quickly. Bradley Youngson stood in the hall.

  Jennifer’s heart began to pound. She tugged at her shirttails to make sure they covered her burgeoning midsection and whispered, “How did you find me?”

  His dark eyes never left her face. “Simple,” he said. “I went to your old office and threatened Dolores with every form of mayhem known to man, and a few I invented, if she didn’t tell me where you were.”

  Jennifer closed her eyes. Damn Dolores and her big mouth. If she had told Lee that Jennifer was pregnant, Jennifer was going to take the first plane back to Philly and tie her to the Penn Central tracks.

  They surveyed each other in silence. Lee looked wonderful, as usual, immaculate in designer jeans and a white turtleneck sweater that flattered his dusky skin. By contrast, Jennifer, exhausted and filthy, felt like the television illustration for a person with an Excedrin headache.

  “May I come in?” he asked pointedly.

  Her mind whirling with a dozen questions, Jennifer stepped aside just as her newly installed telephone began to ring. “Excuse me,” she said.

  What now? Jennifer thought as she moved to answer it Lee stood in the middle of the room, looking around. There wasn’t much to see except piles of cardboard boxes and general confusion.

  It was Dolores. “Oh, Jenny, I’m so glad I finally got you. I’ve been trying for two days, but you didn’t have a number. Lee Youngson was here, he made me tell him where you were, and I’m afraid he’ll—”

  “You’re a little late, Dolores,” Jennifer interrupted her. “He’s standing in my living room.”

  Jennifer eyed Lee who was staring, mystified, at the poster Jennifer had tacked to the wall. It was the Middle English version of the Prologue to Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, a departing gift from Mrs. Mason.

  Dolores groaned. “Oh, God, I was afraid of that. Jennifer, please forgive me, but he was so upset, I thought he was going to kill me.”

  “It’s all right, Dolores,” Jennifer said wearily. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Strangely enough, it didn’t. Everything else had gone wrong; having Lee show up to find her looking like an underage bag lady was just another calamity to add to a long list.

  “I didn’t tell him you were pregnant,” Dolores said piously. There was a pause. “Though if I were you, I—”

  “Thank you, Dolores,” Jennifer said in a strong voice. “It was thoughtful of you to call. I’ll be in touch. goodbye.” She dropped the receiver back into its cradle.

  “I take it that was Dolores,” Lee said.

  “Yes.”

  “Calling to warn you of the impending arrival of the rampaging savage,” he added.

  Jennifer said nothing.

  “Oh, well, I’m glad to see she survived her last encounter with me. She was looking strangely pale when I left; I fear I’ve lost a fan.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the wall. “What is that? German?”

  “The Prologue to Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, in the original Middle English. It looks and sounds like German. Old English does, too, only more so.”

  He nodded, watching her. “I wondered why it seemed familiar.”

  Jennifer met his eyes, asking herself why she was babbling about Chaucer when she wanted to fling herself on Lee and kiss him until he couldn’t breathe. But he mustn’t know that. She crossed her arms on her stomach, concealing it from his sharp eyes.

  “Why are you here?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Don’t beat around the bush, Jennifer,” he said sarcastically. “Come directly to the point.”

  She waited, unmoving.

  Lee propped one foot, encased in a leather topsider, on an overturned box and leaned forward with his arms folded on his upraised knee. “I’ve been accepted to medical school. I’m retiring from football and starting at Temple University in the fall.”

  Jennifer felt the sting of tears behind her eyes. He had done it He had really done it Her throat closed with emotion.

  “That’s wonderful, Lee,” she managed to get out “Congratulations.”

  His black eyes bored into hers. “You’re responsible, you know. You convinced me to try. Without your encouragement, I never would have had the nerve.”

  Jennifer turned away, biting her lip hard to hold back the tears. “Nonsense,” she said in an approximation of a normal tone. “You would have come to the same realization of what you wanted sooner or later; I just brought it into the open faster, that’s all.”

  There was no reply from the man behind her. “Is that what you came to tell me?” she asked, coughing slightly to disguise the hoarseness of her voice. That couldn’t be all. He had bludgeoned Dolores, tracked her down like Sherlock Holmes, and flown thousands of miles to deliver this message? He could have telephoned or written. She was puzzled.

  “Well, yes…” he said, sounding confused. Then she was suddenly seized by the shoulders and hauled around to face him.

  “Goddamnit,” he said between gritted teeth, “why do I always allow you to do this to me? That wasn’t what I came to say at all.” He stared down at her, his stark features filled with emotion.

  “Why did you leave your job with the Freedom?” he demanded.

  “I wanted a change of scenery, warmer weather,” Jennifer said evasively. “What business is it of yours?”

  “I’ll tell you what business of mine it is,” Lee said grimly. “I think you left because of me.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” Jennifer said, trying to shrug free of his viselike grip.

  “I think you wanted to be gone before I reported back to camp next fall. You didn’t know I would be starting school, and you resigned so as not to see me again,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken.

  “You think I would give up a job I worked years to get just to avoid a few uncomfortable moments with you?” she said scornfully. “I’ve heard of giant egos, but yours must be the size of an airplane hangar.”

  “That’s not the reason,” he said calmly, holding her fast despite her fruitless efforts to wriggle free. “You gave up the job because you’re in love with me and you couldn’t stand to be around me and not have me.”

  Jennifer stared at him, dumbfounded.

  His beautiful eyes became lambent and full of feeling. “At least, I hope so, because I came here to tell you I love you and want to take you back with me.

  The silence was deafening.

  “I said I love you,” Lee rep
eated. “Do you love me?” It was issued like a challenge.

  No response.

  Lee shook her gently. “Aren’t you speaking English today?”

  Jennifer burst into tears.

  Lee sighed and released her. “Look, something is wrong here. When I say I love you, you’re supposed to say ‘I love you, too’ and smother me in an ardent embrace.”

  Jennifer sat on an orange crate and bawled.

  “Oh, fine,” Lee said, throwing up his hands. “What am I supposed to derive from this?”

  When she continued to cry, he sat down next to her and waited for the storm to pass, surveying her with an expression of mixed exasperation and tenderness. As she subsided to an occasional sniffle, he said, “Does that mean you love me, or not?”

  Jennifer wiped her nose on her sleeve. “Of course I love you, you jackass.”

  She didn’t see his long, deep, silent sigh of relief. In a voice that was not quite steady he said, “I see. Don’t you think it would be more appropriate to say, ‘Of course I love you, my darling’? You jackass’ hardly seems the proper form of address.”

  She looked up at him from under long, spiky lashes matted with tears. “Are you going to pick a fight about that, now? Besides, anybody else but you would have realized it long before this.” She hiccuped.

  His eyes widened. “Oh, is that so?”

  Jennifer took the bandanna off her head and mopped her cheeks with it. “Yes, that’s so.”

  He took the kerchief from her and finished the job. “Perhaps you’ll be kind enough to tell me how I was supposed to detect your mad passion for me when you were throwing me out of your apartment This was followed, as I recall, by your packing up and moving 1,300 miles away without even a goodbye. I emerged from the hospital to find that you had vanished.”

  “After you convinced me there was no future for us.”

  Lee dropped his eyes. “Forgive me, Jen. I was wrong. I had a lot of time to think while I was laid up, to reevaluate everything. I guess the scare made me realize what really mattered to me.” He paused. “Joe and Dawn told me how you came to the hospital.” He looked up again. “Nothing is as important as you and me, and our love.”

  “Are you sure, Lee? I know what your roots mean to you.”

  “I’m sure. I guess I finally see that having you doesn’t mean that I have to give them up. Don’t you think we can work it out?”

  “I haven’t been able to think since I opened that door and saw you.”

  He knelt before her and took her tenderly in his arms. She sought his mouth blindly with hers.

  A long while later he said, “There won’t be as much money, with me in school, but I’ve saved quite a bit, and the condo and the car are free and clear. We can live in the condo after we’re married, if you like, it’s only forty minutes to the school from there, and I’m sure Harry will take you back at the Freedom, that is, if you want to work . ..” He hesitated. “And I’d like you to think about going back to Montana with me after I finish school. It’ll be our decision, of course, but please say you’ll consider it.”

  Jennifer smiled. “Could they use another lawyer in Cawassa, Montana?”

  Lee hugged her tighter. “In Cawassa, Montana, they could use another everything.” He drew back to look at her. Something was wrong. “Jennifer, what is it?”

  “Nothing.”

  But he knew. “The hell with your ex-husband, may he crash and burn and dwell in Hades forever.” He turned her to face him. “I’m not him, honey. Just because your first marriage was a disaster, doesn’t mean ours will be.” He pressed her face against his shoulder. “Indians are loyal, don’t you know that? Loyal, brave, thrifty, clean, and reverent.”

  “I think you’re talking about the Boy Scouts,” Jennifer mumbled into his sweater.

  “Same thing,” he said above her head. “Indians, Scouts, Indian scouts. I can see that you were never a fan of ‘Wagon Train.’”

  She clutched him tighter, wanting desperately to believe. “Lee, I hope you’ve thought this out It’s a lot to handle, medical school, a new wife and...” She almost said baby, but caught herself in time.

  “As long as you’re with me, I can handle anything.”

  He picked her up and stretched her gently on the floor amidst the chaos, dropping next to her and cradling her in his arms, his hands roaming her body. Jennifer held her breath as he touched her rounded belly.

  He chuckled. “We’d better put you on a diet, paleface. I think you’re gaining weight” Then he seemed to freeze for a moment, recovering to sit up quickly and examine her more closely, lifting her shirt to take in the stretch bra and the elastic waist of her pants. She saw the realization dawn on his face.

  “It’s mine,” he said wonderingly.

  Jennifer punched him. “Baboon. Who else could it belong to?”

  He hugged her to him fiercely, saying in a strangled voice, “You’d better stop calling me names, paleface, or I might forget that you’re supposed to be crazy about me.” He set her down again and slid along the floor to press his cheek against her belly, his eyes closing luxuriously. Jennifer caressed his soft hair, holding his head, too full to speak.

  “When?” he asked hoarsely.

  “May.”

  He smiled. “That first time. I knew it, I felt it, even then.”

  Jennifer was amused. “Oh, really?”

  Color seeped into his face. “I meant, I knew we had…set some force in motion. About this…well, I guess I thought you would take care of it.”

  Typical male, Jennifer thought “Wrong again, Beaufort.”

  “Oh.”

  She sat up. “You know, that’s really an insult Assuming that I would just be prepared under any circumstances. I was living alone when I met you, and I wasn’t exactly entertaining the Eighth Army on a regular basis. And our first encounter was, uh, rather spontaneous, if you recall.”

  “I recall. Spontaneous as in combustion. I felt like I’d been hit by a truck.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “Don’t be dense, counselor. You know what I mean.” He smiled and sang softly, “‘What a lady, what a night.’”

  Now it was Jennifer’s turn to blush.

  He laughed. “Don’t be embarrassed, little mother. I’m looking forward to many more of the same.” He cupped her chin in both of his hands and looked into her eyes. “I can’t believe you weren’t going to tell me.”

  Jennifer shook her head. “I didn’t want to get you that way.”

  He looked away. “But you didn’t have to go through with it You could have—”

  “No,” Jennifer interrupted him, not letting him finish the thought. “I love you, Lee. I wanted your baby. If I couldn’t have you, then I wanted something of yours to keep.”

  He turned aside, blinking rapidly and brushing his eyes with the back of his arm. “That settles it,” he said firmly. “We’re getting married in ten minutes.”

  Jennifer giggled. “I don’t think so, Lee. There are licenses, and blood tests, and things.”

  “Well, then, as soon as possible.” He drew her to him swiftly. “And in the meantime,” he murmured, unbuttoning her overblouse, “we’ll have to think of something to do.”

  “Any ideas?” Jennifer said, sliding her hands under his sweater.

  “I’ve got a few,” he said thickly, and then stopped. “Is it all right? I mean, is it safe?”

  Jennifer smiled indulgently and pressed into him, feeling his quick response. “Unless you plan on bursting into flames, or otherwise becoming a health hazard, it will be ‘safe’ for some time yet.”

  “Exactly what I wanted to hear,” he said, taking off the rest of his clothes. “I don’t suppose there would be such a thing as a bed?”

  “I’m afraid not It’s in pieces in one of those boxes.”

  “Then we’ll rough it,” he responded, spreading his garments on the floor and pulling Jennifer down with him. “A man whose ancestors made do
with packed dirt ought to be able to handle it,” he added, nuzzling her. “God, you smell wonderful.”

  “You must be in love,” Jennifer answered. “After the work I did today, I probably smell like the Freedom’s locker room after a game.”

  “You know what?” he said, his words muffled by her flesh.

  “What?” she groaned, arching under the touch of his lips.

  “You talk too much.”

  And that was the end of the conversation.

  – THE END –

  Doreen Owens Malek is the author of over forty books and lifelong fan of romantic fiction. She lives in Southeastern Pennsylvania with with her husband and college student daughter, a mini dachshund and a sun conyer parrot. Her home is situated just a few miles from the spot where General Washington crossed the Delaware River during the Revolution, Doreen would like to tell you a little about herself in her own words in the hope that it will enhance your pleasure in reading her work.

  “I came to writing by a circuitous route, starting out as an avid reader of Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights and Gone With the Wind and Rebecca and any other similarly themed books I could find. I first worked as a teacher and then attended law school when I desired a more lucrative and independent career. Just after I got my JD my mother died, and the impact of her mortality, and by inference my own, drove me to take a chance. I had always been discouraged from pursuing a writing career by the volatile nature of the business and the relatively poor chance for success. But the realization that I did not have an unlimited supply of time encouraged me to do what I had always wanted to do the most—get published. I sold my fledgling novel to the first editor who read it, and I have been writing ever since. I have written short stories and books, nonfiction and fiction for juveniles and adults, contemporaries and historicals and paranormals, but my favorite literary pursuit is and always has been romance. I’ve won many awards and have millions of books in print. But nothing is as rewarding as hearing from my readers, so please use this website to communicate your thoughts and criticisms, as I am always eager to learn from you.

  I started writing romances because I so loved reading them, hoping that I could duplicate for others the enjoyment and satisfaction I felt as a fan of such stories. A romance novel rarely disappoints me: in an uncertain world filled with tragedy and sadness, reading about an appealing woman finding a strong man to love her and share her life is the perfect escape. I never tire of imagining adventurous scenarios for my characters and detailing their path to fulfillment. I like to read and write stories in which the main characters overcome obstacles to get together, and then stay together because their mutual devotion cannot be denied no matter what else is happening around them. They always HELP each other and reinforce the quaint but enduring notion that love conquers all – at least in the fictional universe of my imagination. So pull up a chair and take down a book – or pick up a Kindle – and join me in a world where the heroes are tough and headstrong but never boorish and the heroines are feminine and sympathetic but never helpless.”

 

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