Wolf Creek Homecoming

by Penny Richards

  She gave a half shrug. “True, I suppose, but there’s absolutely no excuse for him to not contact you all these years,” Rachel said before she could temper her tongue.

  Caleb frowned at her animosity.

  Realizing she’d let too much of her antagonism show, she took a calming breath. “You never really got along, did you?”

  “No.” He ran his hand through his shaggy hair. “Well, that’s not exactly true. Actually, we never had much to do with each other. He was four years younger than me, and I was always expected to toe the line, get the work done. Lucas mostly let Gabe go his own way, so he never did much of anything that resembled work. When he asked for his inheritance, Lucas just up and gave it to him, and I was left to deal with everything here.”

  “It must have seemed very unfair.”

  Caleb’s short bark of laughter lacked true mirth. “In more ways than you can imagine. I guess it’s pretty obvious that Gabe was always the handsome one, the charming one, the one who could make everyone laugh. I was the drudge, the sensible one, the serious brother. Right or wrong, I always resented him for it.”

  Caleb pinned her with a hard look. “Maybe I still do. It will be interesting to hear what kind of story he spins when he wakes up. I can’t imagine anything he could possibly say to make me feel different toward him, so he needn’t expect me to welcome him with open arms. In fact, once he gets better, I won’t mind seeing him leave town.”

  It was quite a speech for the taciturn farmer. Knowing the feelings of her own heart, Rachel kept quiet.

  Caleb lifted his gaze to hers. “I know the Bible says I should forgive him and let go of the past, but I don’t mind telling you I’m having a real hard time with this.”

  Rachel offered him a wan smile. “Believe me,” she said. “I understand better than you think.”

  * * *

  That night, after checking on the patient, Rachel went into Danny’s room and sat on the side of the bed. Sweet, innocent little man, she thought, brushing the dark, wavy, too-long hair away from his forehead. Until today, she’d never realized just how much he looked like Gabe, probably because she had taken such pains to bury her memories of him.

  With him now beneath her roof, that was impossible. She could only hope and pray that he mended soon so that he could be on his way, preferably, as Caleb suggested, out of town. She didn’t want Danny around Gabe any more than necessary.

  Brushing her lips against her son’s forehead, she rose and went to join her father in the parlor.

  “Everyone okay?” he asked, looking up from his book and peering at her over the tops of the glasses that lent his attractively lined face a professorial look.

  “Everyone’s fine.”

  Edward laid aside his book, and Rachel sat on the end of the sofa. “What about you?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Are you fine? You don’t seem so,” he said, tapping into his uncanny ability to see things beyond the surface. “You’ve been jumpy all day, and angry and...oh, I don’t know, maybe even sad. Would you like to tell me why?”

  She crossed her arms across her chest. “No.”

  “Well, then,” he said, “do you mind if I hazard a guess?”

  Rachel gave him a narrow-eyed look. “Guess away,” she said with a nonchalance that did a reasonable job of masking her apprehension.

  Edward tented his fingertips and regarded her for a few long seconds. She felt as if he could see into her very heart and soul, and that all the secrets she’d held so close were about to be exposed. He was no fool. Perception and spot-on intuition were two of Edward Stone’s greatest assets.

  “In all your thirty-one years, I’ve never seen you the way you’ve been today. I’ve tried and tried to figure out what’s behind this hostility you have toward Gabe, especially since you never had much truck with him before he left town.”

  “And have you come up with a reason?” she asked in a voice that, like her hands, trembled the slightest bit.

  “I have.”

  “And?” she asked, regarding him with a steady expression.

  “The only thing that makes a woman act the way you have today is rejection. You know, the old ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.’” He looked her squarely in the eye. “I believe Gabe Gentry looked you up when you were in St. Louis. I believe he’s Danny’s father.”

  An anguished cry escaped Rachel. How could he have figured it out just from her attitude? She felt a sob claw its way up her throat and pressed a fist to her mouth to hold it back.

  “Oh, my dear!” Edward said in a tortured voice, rolling his chair over to her and putting a consoling hand on her shoulder. “How hard it must have been for you to keep that secret all this time.”

  “I would never have told you,” she said as tears slipped down her cheeks. “Never.”

  “I know that, you hard-headed, silly girl. Would you like to tell me about it? The abridged version, of course,” he asked with an awkward attempt at a smile.

  Why not? Rachel thought. Perhaps if she told him how it had happened and how she’d felt, it would release some of the guilt and misery that had made her prickly and skeptical and robbed her of so much joy through the years.

  “There isn’t much to tell,” she said almost thoughtfully. She told him how she’d come home from school and found Gabe at her boardinghouse. “I was so lonely and homesick, and it was so good to see a familiar face...” Her voice trailed away. “I invited him in and we had lemonade.

  “As he was leaving, he asked me to dinner the next night and we spent every day together after I got home from school,” she said, allowing long-suppressed memories their freedom. “He brought me flowers from a street vendor, took me out to eat at fancy restaurants, bought me trinkets and told me all sorts of wonderful, fantastic stories of the places he’d been and hoped to go.”

  Her tears ran freely as the memories continued to tumble out. “He teased me, and it was—” she gave a huge hiccuping sob “—so nice to laugh. Every evening, he insisted I tell him about what I’d done and what I’d learned. He was just so encouraging, both about my studies and...just everything. I told him all about my dearest hopes and dreams.”

  She took the handkerchief Edward offered, mopped at her eyes and blew her running nose.

  “He made me believe that all of those hopes and dreams could come true. I fell in love with him,” she said, summing everything up in those few words. “I’m sure you can figure out the rest.”

  “I think I understand,” Edward said when she ran out of words. “Your upbringing gave you little or no defense. You had no idea how to guard your heart. So tell me why he left. Did you quarrel?”

  Rachel shook her head. “Nothing like that. I thought things were going along just fine. And then I came home from school one day, and he’d left a note with Mrs. Abernathy that said a friend had caught up with him and talked him into taking a paddle wheeler to New Orleans. It was supposed to be great fun, and he’d always wanted to go there. He said the next time he was in town, he’d look me up and we’d go to dinner.”

  “That’s it?” Edward said, with a look of disbelief.

  “Oh, no. He said it had been a fun few weeks and that he’d never forget me.”

  She laughed, but there was no joy in the sound. “I was so ashamed,” she said in an anguished whisper. “I’d ruined my whole life. That was bad enough, but when I found out I was going to have a baby, I was terrified. I thought I’d figured out a way that no one would ever find out. Then Sarah showed up and sent all my plans tumbling down.”

  Tears spilled down Rachel’s cheeks. “I know bearing my shame was hard for you and Mother, especially after I came home, and I know my actions are what brought on her death, but I want to thank you for never once throwing it back in my face and for...for making me...k-keep Danny.
” She choked on another sob.

  Edward gave her hand an awkward pat. “Your mother had a heart condition, Rachel. Her health had been going downhill for more than a year. Her passing so soon after you came back was just an unfortunate coincidence. She loved you and she adored Danny.”

  He smiled. “And as for that young scamp, I hope I didn’t make you do anything. I hope I just encouraged you to do what you really wanted. I know you well, my precious girl, and I don’t believe you’d have been able to live with yourself if you’d given him up. And selfishly, I couldn’t bear the thought of strangers bringing up my flesh and blood—or worse, him being put into an orphanage and never knowing the joys of real family. He’s a delight, Rachel. I can’t imagine life without him.”

  “Neither can I.”

  “Besides,” he added, “I’ve never been one to think that two wrongs make a right.”

  For long moments, the fire popped and crackled while Rachel worked at regaining her composure.

  “What do you plan to do now?” Edward asked, at last.

  “Do? About what?”

  “Gabe. How do you feel about him after all this time?”

  “Nothing,” she snapped. “I plan to do nothing and I feel nothing but anger toward him. I hope and pray that he’ll leave town again as soon as he’s able, which will suit me just fine.”

  “And if he doesn’t? It will certainly be a test, won’t it? How long do you think it will take before he figures things out?”

  Rachel’s face drained of color. “What are you saying?”

  There was no compromise in Edward’s eyes. “You need to tell Gabe the truth. Danny, too.”

  Her horrified gaze met his. “I can’t!”

  “Listen to me, Rachel. You need to tell Danny before someone else sees the resemblance and starts spreading it around town. Believe me, as hard as it may be, he’ll be much better off hearing the truth from you than someone else. They both will.”

  Chapter Two

  Christmas Eve morning dawned crisp and cold. Just as dawn was breaking, Rachel rose from the cot beside Gabe’s bed and lit the lamp.

  He had rested well in his laudanum-induced sleep, but she had not been so blessed. Sleep had eluded her, as thoughts and recollections tumbled round and round in her mind like colorful fragments in a kaleidoscope. Besides a jumble of troubling memories, her mind replayed the conversation with her father again and again.

  She couldn’t believe how light her heart felt since sharing the secret she’d carried alone for so long. Who would have thought that something that seemed so small could weigh so heavily on a heart? She would be eternally grateful that her father’s love and support had not wavered, even after learning the truth.

  She knew Edward was right about telling Danny about Gabe, yet the very thought of doing so filled her with dread. How would she find the words? What would Danny say...and think?

  She stoked the dying fire and went to see how Gabe was doing, busying herself with changing his bandages and checking his temperature. Her ministering seemed to agitate him, and he began to move about. When she tried to restrain him, he cried out and opened his eyes. Thankfully she saw no recollection there, no wicked, teasing gleam, nothing but agony. The doctor in her wanted him to be pain free and improve under her care; the woman in her shrank from the moment he would open his eyes and look up at her with recognition.

  What would he see when he awakened? What would he think when he saw her for the first time in nine years? She turned toward the mirror hanging above the washstand, drawn to it like a June bug to the light. Her reflection wavered in the flickering light of the oil lamp.

  She stared at herself for long moments and then, womanlike, rubbed at her forehead with her fingertips as if she could massage away the few slight creases she saw there, lines etched by her deep concern for her patients.

  Exposure to the elements in all sorts of weather had tanned her face and hands despite the bonnet she wore, and squinting against the sun had left tiny lines at the corners of her eyes. Despite regular treatments of lemon juice, a faint spattering of freckles dotted her nose.

  Age and Danny’s birth had added a few pounds, but according to her father, it was weight she needed. Strangely, her face was thinner than it had been nine years ago, refined by age and life.

  She had no illusions. She no longer looked twenty-two. Shouldering the responsibilities that went hand in hand with the demands of her father’s practice had taken its toll on her in many ways.

  Mirror, mirror on the wall, would Gabe still think her fair at all?

  Would he even recognize her? What would he say? What would she? Would he be the shocking flirt she recalled, or would he be filled with contrition?

  Telling herself she was a fool for wasting so much as a thought on him, she went back to the bed and dabbed some antiseptic to the cut on Gabe’s face.

  As she tended to his needs, her mind turned to Caleb’s ambivalent feelings about his brother’s return. She could relate to them only too well. Like Caleb, and even though she knew that not to pardon Gabe jeopardized her own forgiveness, she couldn’t imagine any scenario that would make her feel differently about the man who had taken everything she had to give and walked away as if it meant nothing to him.

  Then why are you having such contradictory thoughts about him?

  She had no answer for that.

  Satisfied that he was fine for the moment, she went to the kitchen, rekindled the fire in the stove and filled the coffeepot. While she waited for the stove to get hot enough to start breakfast, she opened her Bible. Instead of reading, she flipped the pages until she found the pressed petunia she’d placed there. A gift from Gabe, plucked from Mrs. Abernathy’s flower bed and tucked behind Rachel’s ear when they’d returned from a walk. “A memento of this evening.”

  She could picture the half-light of dusk, could almost hear the sounds of children playing and smell the sweet scent of the petunias dancing in the breeze. Felt again the light brush of his lips against hers. A small, impromptu gesture was so like him. She planned. Gabe lived for the moment.

  Impatient with her unruly thoughts, she slammed her Bible shut and began to slice the bacon, placing the strips into the cold cast-iron skillet. Gathering the ingredients for buttermilk biscuits, she measured and mixed flour, salt and leavening and started working the lard into the flour with her fingertips, finding comfort in the simplicity of the everyday task.

  Seeing that the stove was hot, she set the skillet of bacon over the heat. After adding just the right amount of buttermilk, she pinched off a biscuit-size piece of dough and deftly rolled the edges under to make it reasonably smooth and round. Placing it into the greased pan, she made a dimple in the center with her knuckle.

  Danny, his dark hair standing on end and covering a yawn, came into the kitchen as she was filling the slight indentations with a small dollop of extra lard, just the way her mama had done.

  “Good morning,” she said, sliding the pan into the oven.

  “Morning.”

  She wiped her hands on a wet cloth and sighed as she watched him pour a splash of coffee into a tin cup and fill it to the brim with milk and two spoons full of sugar. He’d started having morning “coffee milk,” as he called it, when Edward had started sharing his own sweetened brew. When she’d questioned the wisdom of the action, Edward had assured her that it was more milk than anything else and maintained it was fine; it hadn’t hurt her, had it?

  Grandparents! she thought, lifting the crispy strips of bacon onto a platter. If she didn’t remain vigilant, no telling how Edward would spoil Danny. But how could she deny him his little indulgences when he had taken on a very special role in Danny’s life? Not only was he the child’s grandfather, he’d been the closest thing to a father as he was ever likely to know.

  Until now.

&nb
sp; With her father’s words ringing through her mind, Rachel searched her son’s face for anything that might give away his paternity. He definitely had Gabe’s long, lush eyelashes, as well as the slant of his eyebrows. The dimple in Danny’s chin would be a dead giveaway as he grew closer to manhood and his jawline firmed the way his father’s had.

  His father. Rachel stifled a groan. How could she not think of him when he lay just down the hall? Resolutely, she opened a jar of red plum jam one of her patients had given her in lieu of payment for stitching up a nasty cut.

  “Are you excited about going to the Gentrys’ tomorrow?” she asked Danny as she smoothed down the recalcitrant “rooster tail” sticking up from the crown of his dark head.

  He nodded, his eyes bright. “I made a present for baby Eli.”

  “Really? What did you make?”

  “Roland gave me some old cedar shingles and helped me drill some holes on one edge so I could put some leather laces through them. I painted Ben’s, Betsy’s and Laura’s names on them with different colors. I made one for Eli yesterday. I thought Miss Abby could hang it on the end of his cradle.”

  “That was very sweet of you, Danny.”

  “I made some for the Carruthers kids, too,” he said. “I thought they could hang them on the wall above their beds.”

  “I’m sure everyone will love them,” she said, marveling as she often did at what a thoughtful child he was.

  Feeling blessed to have him, she peeked at the biscuits. “Almost done,” she announced. “How many eggs do you want?”

  “Two,” he said promptly. “Soft.”

  “I’ll have two, myself,” Edward said from the doorway.

  “Coming right up,” Rachel said, reaching for the brown crockery bowl that held the eggs she bought from a lady in town.

  “I’ve been thinking about tomorrow,” she said, cracking the first egg into the sizzling bacon grease.