The Doctor's Medicine Woman

by Donna Clayton

  Curiosity got the better of her. Curling her fingers around the pen, she tucked her fist under her chin and quietly said, “I heard that you were the one who made the operations possible. Tell me…what moved you to help them?”

  One of his muscular shoulders lifted in a small shrug, as if he wanted to cast aside the importance of what he’d done. He returned to the task of peeling the potatoes.

  “I don’t know,” he said. But he was quick to continue. “I was still working my residency. I’d just received confirmation of my membership into the tribe. And that very week the first tribal newsletter showed up in my mailbox.” His hands paused and he glanced toward the ceiling as if contemplating some deep, philosophical notion. When he looked at her, his coal-black eyes were intense.

  “Do you believe in fate?” he asked. Then he chuckled. “Maybe I’m just being silly.” Again, he shrugged. “But I couldn’t get those boys and their problem out of my mind. The article I read said the state and the reservation were feuding over who should pay for the twins’ medical needs. I had to step forward and do what I could. I had to. Time was running out for those boys.”

  “So you contacted the hospital?” Diana said.

  “Uh-huh. And I harassed and badgered my fellow residents, the teaching doctors, and anyone else who would listen until a heart surgeon stepped forward.” Travis laughed. “I think Doctor Harris agreed to operate on the boys simply to shut me up. He did all the necessary procedures—and they turned out to be substantial—at no cost to the state or the reservation. He’s a good man.”

  “So are you, Travis. So are you.”

  Had it really been her mouth, her tongue, that had formed the whispery, awe-filled opinion? An opinion regarding a near stranger she’d only just met a couple of days ago?

  Diana hadn’t moved from her spot at the table. There had to have been at least eight feet separating the two of them, yet when he turned his raven gaze on her, she felt as if he was but a hair’s breath away.

  Her mind whirled, her thoughts an incomprehensible jumble. Her heart pounded so hard that all she heard was its thud, thud, thud, deep in her chest. The oxygen in the room seemed to jell into some kind of glutinous mass she couldn’t have pulled into her lungs if her life depended on it. And, unfortunately, it did.

  He seemed as frozen as she as he stood there with the paring knife poised but forgotten against the half-peeled potato. His jet-black eyes sparked and flashed with…with…

  The ink pen slid from her fingers, clattering and bouncing on the wooden top of the kitchen table. The noise acted like a hypnotist’s snapping fingers, abruptly bringing them back to the present, saving them from whatever stupor had been threatening the both of them.

  Embarrassment suffused her face with heat, but thankfully, Travis quickly returned to his task, his gaze no longer fastened to hers.

  Had she gone totally insane? she wondered frantically. What had possessed her to utter such a startling—such a revealing—postulate?

  Lord, above! Had those words really been uttered as throatily and sensuously as they had sounded to her own ears? She was mortified.

  What must he be thinking? And how could she fix this? How could she mend the moment? Should she make light of her comment? No, that would only demean his heroic behavior where the boys were concerned.

  There is no fixing this, the small voice of common sense told her. Change the subject, it continued to press. Pretend the words never left your mouth, and shove this whole situation into high gear. Move forward. Tap into another conversation…any conversation.

  “So—”

  Even though his tone was quiet, Diana hadn’t anticipated it and her head jerked up in sudden reaction.

  “—did the boys pass your test?”

  “Test?” She blinked at his profile, feeling foolish that she didn’t understand his question.

  “In the woods today,” he said. “You said you asked them to point out living things.”

  “Oh, right.” Absently she plucked up the pen from where it had landed and fingered it nervously. “It wasn’t a test, really,” she told him. “I—I was…trying to relay…to the boys, of course…that all living things are…well, that they’re sacred. That we should respect…a-and…”

  Her vocabulary seemed to have dissipated into thin air. She couldn’t put four words together without losing her grip on the rest of the sentence.

  She swallowed. Took a deep breath.

  Endeavoring to continue, she said, “We had a great d-discussion about the trees. Jared argued…well, he thought the trees weren’t alive. Because they had lost their leaves. They looked as if they had died.” The chuckle she emitted sounded awkwardly forced even to her own ears.

  Oh, my, she thought, looking down at her notepad, I’m only making this worse. Why had the discussion with the boys seemed so poignant, so important, when she had been in the park with them? The subject sounded downright silly now.

  Her gaze darted to where Travis stood. Why did the man’s shoulders have to be so broad? Why did he have to roll his shirtsleeves up to reveal his sinewy forearms? Why did that delighted sparkle in his black-as-midnight gaze have to make her heart trip in her chest like a boulder rolling, careering down a mountain, wild, uncontrollable, dangerous?

  “But Jared figured it out,” she forced herself to finish, “that the trees had to be alive…you see…since they grow new leaves every spring.”

  She noticed her hand trembling, felt her blood rushing through her body. This was crazy! Abruptly she stood, the legs of the chair grating against the floor.

  Their gazes locked, and it was then that Diana saw it. In those keenly discerning eyes of his.

  He knew! He perceived the chaos she was experiencing. So much for hiding how appealing she found him.

  He knew something else, too. She sensed it. Realized it down to the marrow of her bones. He knew that she knew that the both of them had been momentarily mesmerized…and that she was now striving to cover that fact, and failing miserably at the attempt.

  “You know,” she blurted, “I’ve come down with an awful headache. I think I’ll go lay down. Don’t wait dinner on me. I’m not that hungry.”

  Without giving him a single second to utter a word, she raced from the room.

  Raw desire. That’s what had been expressed in Travis’s intense gaze. His need had been as clear as the light of day.

  She’d never in her life seen eyes as black. She’d never in her life seen such fierce hunger. Such concentrated intensity.

  Diana pressed her back against the closed door of the guest bedroom where she was staying, leaning into it with all her weight as if she meant to keep the whole world at bay. No, not the whole world. Only Travis. And the passion he’d so blatantly exuded.

  He moved her. Affected her. She had realized it from the beginning. Almost from the very moment she’d met him.

  She’d vowed to suppress the attraction. Extinguish it completely. But it kept rekindling itself, like the embers of some smoldering fire that were fanned and brought back to blazing life by his very presence.

  And she’d been certain that he, too, had meant to crush any visceral urges he might have. She’d witnessed his determination to suppress the attraction he felt the very first night she’d spent in his home. She was sure of it.

  Yet there they had stood in the kitchen, gawking at each other like teens, ripe, randy and nearly panting.

  Well, she wasn’t a randy teen. She was a grown woman. And she refused to allow herself to even think about having any kind of physical relationship with Travis Westcott.

  What she was feeling was only a whim. A whim that could be conquered. That would be suppressed.

  Closing her eyes, she whispered a silent prayer that these ridiculous feelings could be vanquished. Completely subjugated. Because if they couldn’t, she’d surely be humiliated beyond words.

  Chapter Four

  The winter moon hung fat and round in a black satin sky, its glow casting long sha
dows across the kitchen floor. Shadows that Travis barely saw as he sat at the table in deep contemplation. It was after eleven, and he was certain that hunger or thirst would soon drive Diana from her room where she’d hidden since before dinner.

  Hours ago, he’d tucked the boys into bed. He’d showered. Spent some time studying a few patient files. And then he’d tried to sleep. But he’d tossed and turned, his blankets ending up a tangled mess around his knees.

  He’d attempted to focus his thoughts on Diana’s afternoon with the boys. Josh and Jared had been full of tales during dinner, and again at their bath time. Apparently Diana had once more woven her Medicine Woman magic on the twins.

  One tale was about an ancient tree, wise, patient and steadfast, that had been satisfied to spend its entire life sheltering wildlife and shading humans who came to stand under its branches. Another story related the Indian’s deep regard for woodland birds and how important it was to be able to identify the song of each species. A smart hunter would learn to decipher the warning calls of birds, so one would be alerted to intruders.

  Quiet Josh even told Travis how Diana had said that the earth itself is alive and constantly changing. The boy had sat in the tub filled with bubbles, his eyes wide with awe.

  Travis had to agree. He’d told Josh that the earth was always becoming different through earthquakes and volcanoes and erosion caused by both wind and rain, the elements of nature.

  “Diana says,” Jared had piped up, “that we should be really careful of every living thing. Wiggly caterpillars, all the birds, the bears, the trees and flowers and bushes. Everything.”

  Josh’s nose had wrinkled as he’d added, “Even creepy spiders.”

  Diana’s lesson today was making his boys think, Travis realized. The simple walk she’d taken with them through the woods had turned into a way for her to help develop the boys’ consciences. The Native American philosophy, nurturing a healthy respect for life, was a great idea. Travis couldn’t help but feel this very thing was missing in the upbringing of many children today. Why else was there such violence among teens and young adults? Why else did people care so little about the polluting of rivers, lakes and land with their “throwaway” mentality?

  Diana had affected his boys in a very profound way today, and he’d made a mental note to express his appreciation to her.

  As he’d lain alone in his bed, he’d begun to ponder, for the umpteenth time, his sorely lacking knowledge of his Kolheek heritage. He had questions. So many questions. He was sure Diana wouldn’t mind answering them. However, over the past three days that she’d been here, he hadn’t been able to work up the courage to ask.

  Since he’d arrived home from the reservation, Travis’s whole world had changed. Yes, he was a father now. And, of course, that fact alone was enough to disrupt anyone’s existence. But the change he had noted included more than just his new status as a parent. He had to admit it.

  Travis felt as if his home had been invaded by some gorgeous, ethereal goddess.

  Confident in his thoughts and opinions, he’d always seen himself as a man who was happy and content. Satisfied with who he was. Yet, his confidence seemed to wither away to nothing when Diana was anywhere within sight.

  He continued to be astonished by the regal serenity that appeared to permeate her being. Her rich brown eyes seemed so darned…all-knowing. And her voice—

  It had been the memory of that voice—the sensuous echoes still ringing in his head from when she’d expressed her opinion of him being a good person—that had chased him out of his bed and down into the darkness of the kitchen.

  He wanted Diana. Wanted to kiss her. Touch her. Run his fingers through her long, silken hair. He wanted to press his nose to her neck. Smell what he knew would be the delicate lemon scent of her sun-kissed skin.

  Damn! He had to stop this. He had to stop it now.

  But quelling the hungry thoughts wasn’t going to be easy. Because he’d learned something this evening. He’d learned that Diana, too, suffered with the same wild attraction as he. The desire she’d felt had been clearly evident. Her dark gaze had sparked with it. Her voice had reflected it. Her whole body had grown quivery with it.

  Even she had been shocked by the sensuousness of her tone. By the raw eroticism lacing the words that had tumbled from her oh-so-luscious lips. In fact, she’d been so aghast at herself that she’d barely been able to tell him about her afternoon with the boys. And then she had run. She had pleaded a headache and imprisoned herself upstairs.

  He knew she had probably hoped to somehow erase the moment. That the old adage ‘out of sight, out of mind’ might ring true. But it didn’t. No matter that she had locked herself away from him, Travis couldn’t get her words—or her ardent tone—out of his head.

  Well, Travis decided as he sat waiting for her, this had to be discussed. He had to tell Diana that he had no intention of acting on his feelings.

  No matter how much his body might want to.

  And he didn’t even have a problem with telling her why. If he laid it all out on the line, if he clarified his thoughts, explained his past, rationalized his motives, surely she’d understand and the two of them could brush this attraction thing under the rug.

  Movement at the kitchen doorway caught his eye.

  “I’m sorry—”

  She was backing away even before she’d entered the room.

  “—I thought you’d be in bed.”

  “Diana,” he softly beckoned. “Come back. We need to talk.”

  “Something wrong with the boys?”

  He couldn’t see alarm on her face, the dusky shadows prevented that, but he did hear it in her voice. And her concern for the twins touched him deep inside, squeezing at his heart like a C clamp.

  Why was he so stirred by this woman?

  “No,” he told her softly. “They’re fine. This has to do with you and me. Just…you and me.”

  “C-could it wait?” she asked, obvious nervousness giving her voice a breathy quality. “I only came down for a drink. And to rummage around for a cracker or two.”

  “You missed dinner. Would you like a sandwich? Or I could heat up some of the leftovers for you.”

  “No, thank you.”

  Trepidation fairly pulsed from her. He understood fully how she was feeling. This wasn’t a topic he relished delving into, either. However, he couldn’t let this go another day. It had to be discussed. Put behind them. For good.

  She still hadn’t left the threshold of the kitchen door.

  “Sit.” The single word was quietly spoken, but it sounded just like what it was, a command. Reaching over, he pulled out a chair for her.

  Silence seemed to reign supreme in the darkness for several momentous seconds. At last, she expelled a small surrendering sigh, and then she crossed the floor, lowered herself into the chair.

  Moonlight shone in her dark eyes, gleamed on her hair, bringing to mind a river of shimmering blackness. And if Travis had thought her attractive before this moment, he couldn’t help but note how the night, the shadows, the moon glow only heightened her beauty. Heat twisted in his gut.

  Silently cursing, he did what he could to stamp out the fever she kindled in him.

  “Look, Diana—”

  He hadn’t meant to begin so gruffly. This was a subject that needed to be broached delicately. Otherwise, he risked embarrassing her. And himself, too. That wasn’t his intention. For either of them.

  After taking a deep breath and moistening his lips, he began again, “We need to discuss this…”

  His speech trailed.

  This…what? he wondered frantically. What should he call this huge thing that sparked and sizzled between them?

  A need?

  A hankering?

  He cleared his throat. Looked toward the ceiling. Then leveled his gaze on her once again.

  “I’ve been feeling—” His teeth clamped down on his top lip. “Ever since we first met, I’ve found you—”

 
Words failed him, again and again. He turned his face from her, pondering the brass cabinet knobs reflecting the moonbeams. Why couldn’t he express his thoughts? What was it that was holding him back?

  He had no doubt at all about what he was feeling himself, but was he sure of what he suspected Diana was feeling? Mentally he shook his head. He didn’t simply suspect. He was positive. Absolutely sure.

  “What you need to know,” he blurted out, “is that I’m not interested in a relationship. I know in my heart that men and women can’t get along for any length of time. My parents brutalized each other during their divorce. My brother and his wife did, too. In fact, my brother has been running from the pain so hard and so fast that he can’t stay in one place long enough to establish a residence or leave a forwarding address. I won’t allow that kind of pain into my life. I just won’t. So…whatever it is that gets us all shaken up when we’re in the same room…well…we need to just cool it…back off and…and control ourselves.”

  Her knee-jerk reaction to his assertive soliloquy brought to mind a tiny, defenseless animal that had been backed into a corner. Panic etched itself on her face. And she looked as if she had no place to run. No place to hide.

  Then her cinnamon eyes narrowed with a fluffed up irritation as she made an attempt at anger. Anger meant to cover the truth.

  But Travis wasn’t fooled. Not in the least.

  If he hadn’t felt so threatened by the subject himself, he just might have smiled at her performance. Most anyone, when confronted so blatantly, would have gone on the attack. Most anyone would have lashed out, called him names, deemed him arrogant and big-headed and presumptuous.

  But not Diana. She might want to, but she wouldn’t. Her quiet dignity wouldn’t allow her to let her ire fly.

  Funny how Travis was so sure of that fact. He felt he knew her that well, even though he’d just met her a few days earlier.