The Medicine Man

by Dianne Drake

  Chay’s fingers lingered there for a few moments, brushing lightly over her nipples. Then he raised her shirt and sought her right breast with his mouth, sucking, nibbling, tweaking her nipple, but only as a foretaste of more to come. For just as she was relaxing to the feel of him there, he moved over to her left breast. Only for a moment again, then he pulled her shirt back down, ran his thumbs over the wet fabric one more time and backed away from her. At several paces, he stopped, merely to stare, as if trying to figure out what he wanted to do.

  In the silhouettes made by the moonlight, with only the contours of his body visible to her, he was so gorgeous. Dark, mysterious, brooding. Just watching him watch her made Joanna shiver, made her want to be everything he needed. Chay was a man of subtleties and surprises, and so many conflicts she couldn’t anticipate him now. So she merely stood there, watching him watch, and hoping.

  After several quiet moments, Joanna’s heart began to flutter. Had she been reading the signs incorrectly? Or had he changed his mind about this, and he was looking for a way to back out? If not for the fact that she was unable to move under his stare, she would have backed away, too. Backed away, climbed up to the creek bank and gone back to town. But she couldn’t stir herself—shackled there by her own heightening needs and anticipations, she was weighted to the creek bed, praying.

  After nearly two minutes of hushed separation between them, embarrassment started to creep over her, so she crossed her arms protectively over her chest. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do now, especially when he drew in a sharp breath, then ducked away into the bushes off to the side of the creek.

  “OK, am I supposed to come find you?” she finally called to him, not sure if she should. Or if he’d even call back.

  “Do you want to come find me?”

  She took several tentative steps in the direction of his voice, noticing the water was getting deeper. Another couple of steps and she was wading most of the way up to her hips. “Is it worth my while, Chay?”

  “Guess that all depends on what your while is worth, doesn’t it?”

  Suddenly, a muted splash from behind a bush about five feet away from her caused Joanna to suck in her breath and hold it in nervous expectation. She could back out now. Maybe she should. That would certainly be the unencumbered way through this moment. Probably even the best way. She chuckled. Good thing she didn’t always listen to the sensible side of her. “If you want me, Doctor, you’ll have to come and get me. Having it my way, right here, is going to be worth your while, if you care to come out of the bushes and find out just how much.”

  As she said those words, a cloud slipped over the moon, obscuring the little bit of light that had been shining down on them, and Joanna strained to watch for him, to listen for him. But nothing. Not a sound, not even the stirring of a leaf along the creek bank in the gentle summer breeze. “Chay?” She finally gave in and called.

  “Make it worth my while,” he growled, stepping up behind her and grabbing her around the waist.

  “I didn’t hear…” she gasped, spinning around into his arms.

  “Because I didn’t want you to hear me. My people are good at that. Being stealthy at the right times.” He ran his thumb over her lips, then moved to place a brief kiss there. “Comes in handy,” he whispered. “When it counts.”

  “Which is when?”

  “Right now.” Pressing himself to her, Chay’s hand skimmed underneath the clingy fabric of her T-shirt. “Nice,” he said, tracing the line of her ribs to her waist, then over to her belly button. “I like an inny. So many more possibilities with an inny than an outy.” His finger lingered there for a moment, to explore the exquisite circle, then moved upward, slowly over her belly. Almost to her breasts, he took a sudden detour back to the waist of her jeans, unzipped them and slowly pulled them down over the curve of her hips. “Are you wearing those skimpies again like I saw you in the other night?” His hand went to her hip to pull them along with the jeans, then he moaned. “Nothing at all? Bad girl.”

  “Since you’ve already seen me in them, I decided to skip the formalities.” So bold for her. This was nothing like with Paul, in the dark, under the covers, by the book. This was the fantasy she’d read about, and dreamed about and had never thought she would have.

  “Very bad girl.”

  His words made her shiver. His touch, his smell, everything about Chayton Ducheneaux made her shiver, and she was on the verge of wanting him so badly she would have pulled him straight into the water without letting him up until she had everything. But this might be a one and only for them, and that little sentimental spot deep down inside wanted to make it linger. So she pulled back from him. “And you don’t like bad girls?” she asked, splashing him playfully.

  He took hold of her hand and pressed it to the front of his jeans. “Does that answer your question?” Suddenly, he ducked into the water to press a line of kisses on Joanna’s belly, then from her left hip to her right. Removing her jeans all the way, he tossed them to the creek bank when he rose back up. “You won’t be needing those for a while.”

  “Yes, that answers my question,” she murmured. Pressing herself to him, she found his zipper and pulled it down. But only until his jeans were riding low on his hips. Then she ran her hand just inside the waistband, brushing her fingers lightly over his erection. He gasped, trying to stifle a moan, and ground himself harder against her hand. But as he’d done with her, she gave him only a moment, then she slid her hand back up to his belly and onward to his chest. Stopping briefly, she pulled off her T-shirt, not as slowly and seductively as she would have liked had he been able to watch in better lighting, but quickly, almost frantically, then tossed it over into a heap with her jeans. “You’ve got a beautiful chest,” she said, pressing her breasts to him. “And does this answer any questions you might have?” she added, enjoying the feel of his bare chest on hers. Bare, wet…it was driving her to the brink, when she wasn’t ready to go.

  “What do you like, Joanna?” he growled, reaching around to her bottom and pulling her hard into him. “Tell me everything.” Sliding his body down the length of hers until he was nearly submerged, he kissed his way from just below her belly button all the way up to the hollow of her throat. “Is this what you would like?” he asked when his face met hers.

  “Do it again and I’ll let you know.”

  This time he started at the hollow of her throat and moved downward, across her shoulders, her chest, and when he got to the valley between her breasts, he stopped, grabbed her hand and pulled her over to a secluded grassy area on the creek bank. “The butte,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “In the wide open. I want us to be in the wide open, Chay. Just you and me and nothing else.”

  Chay zipped up his jeans, and without a word scooped Joanna’s wet, naked body up in his arms and carried her up to the top of the butte, then set her gently on the blanket. “I would have figured you for something more traditional,” he said, lying down next to her, pulling her into his arms.

  “Me, too.” Reaching down between them, Joanna unzipped and tugged his jeans over his hips this time, wiggling down until she was able to pull them all the way off him. Then she kissed a trail of hot, quick kisses from his toes all the way back to his belly. “But I was wrong.” She turned to her side, moving her legs to circle his hips, then pressed herself exuberantly against him, thrusting to feel as much of him against her as she could. “There’s something exciting about being naked in the Big Open, don’t you think?”

  “You’re killing me,” he groaned, thrusting back at her.

  “On your back, Doctor. Apparently, I need to do a physical exam.” As he turned over, she lowered herself to her knees next to him and bent to kiss her way across his flat stomach, stopping just above his erection. Looking up at him, she asked, “Where does it hurt?”

  Instead of answering, Chay merely sucked in a sharp breath and let out a dull moan.

  The sensatio
n of him almost more than she could bear, Joanna pressed harder into Chay, kneading her hands across his chest and all the way down the rippling muscles of his abdomen to feel his imposing hardness, and she lingered there, teasing and taunting and stroking him in order to elicit the moans she was desperate to hear. “I’m almost ready with a diagnosis,” she said, following the path of her hands with hard, demanding kisses.

  “Skip the diagnosis. I need the cure.”

  “Believe me, I aim to cure.” Joanna lingered over him, teasing every aching spot on his body he was aware of and many he hadn’t been before now, until he thought he was going to explode. When he could stand it no longer he sat up, pushed her back onto the blanket and took his place between her legs. Leaning up on his elbows, he looked down, and she almost took his breath away she was so beautiful with the moonlight cascading over her naked body. Stunning, bold and yet almost shy. Not like any woman he’d ever known. And he wanted her so badly it scared him. “And now it’s time for me to make my diagnosis, Dr Killian.”

  Chay’s hand began the exploration over Joanna’s belly then down to that sensitive spot between her legs. “I need a second opinion here, Doctor,” he teased, loving the feel of her squirming against his hand. “Is this where you need attention?”

  “Chay,” she gasped, lifting her hips to his touch. Each stroke, each bold path he traced over her sent an intensifying tremor through her, one after another, until her body finally surrendered a hard climax, one like nothing he’d ever seen before. Joanna was totally abandoned to the moment, to them. To him. To this…whatever it was.

  He hadn’t expected it to go this far. And he was already beginning to feel the dull throb of unslaked desire as he pulled back from her. Damn it, anyway. He’d known before he’d started he couldn’t finish. Shouldn’t have started, actually. But he couldn’t help it. Not with Joanna.

  “Chay?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

  “I, um, I’m not prepared to go any further.” True words in so many ways.

  “I’m on the Pill,” she said.

  No, he moaned inwardly as she moved to her knees. He wanted to resist. Tried resisting. But as she pushed him backward there was nothing about him that even suggested resistance. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, moving to let her straddle him.

  In answer, Joanna rose up slightly, then lowered herself over him. “I trust you,” she said. “Completely.” When all of him was in her, she remained still for a moment, and the look of her there atop him, her breasts outlined against the dim night light, made him realize that there was nothing he could deny her. Or wanted to deny her.

  “And I’m sure,” she whispered as she began to rock slowly up and down on him.

  Their rhythm came slowly at first, then finally in a delirious beat that sought its release immediately. Joanna thrust harder and harder against him, driving herself downward for everything he had, until he could control it no longer. This was the sweet release he needed, and only from Joanna. They climaxed together in a frenzy of night-time heat and sweat and hungry gasps.

  “So what’s your diagnosis, Doctor?” he asked after her last shudder was spent and she was snuggled into his arms.

  “Pending further examination, I say perfect. And your diagnosis, Doctor?”

  “I think I’ll need to schedule you for a recheck,” he whispered. What he really wanted to tell her was that it was better than perfect and so much more than he’d ever expected. But he couldn’t, and he refused to think beyond that because the reasons scared him. Instead, he pulled Joanna even closer to him, and they clung together naked in the Montana night, without another word between them.

  As the night crept on, they returned to the creek to cool down, to find their clothes, then they made their way back to reality.

  “It says I need to go back to Rising Sun right away.” Joanna couldn’t tell him that the note tacked to her door when they returned to the makeshift clinic said that his father had collapsed earlier. To begin with, she didn’t know how to tell him, whether he’d care, whether he’d disregard it. And she did so want him to care, but she was afraid to put it to the test because if he didn’t, she didn’t know how she’d feel about that. She already had a certain image of Chay built up, and in it he did care. Besides, there was no indication about Leonard’s condition in the note other than he was resting at home presently. So there was no reason to worry Chay over this yet. “Why don’t you stay here tonight? I’ll be back in the morning. No need for both of us to go all the way back there.”

  “Why don’t I drive so we can get there faster, and get back here faster?”

  Grabbing clean clothes from her duffel bag, ones that looked like they hadn’t been discarded along a creek for an evening of what they’d done together, Joanna also pulled out some panties. House calls without underwear didn’t seem right. “I’ll be fine. And this way, one of us will get some sleep so we can get to our…my calls tomorrow.” It was already so easy having him there as part of her practice, she found herself slipping into the habit. A very insecure habit to get herself into. And out of.

  “You sleep, I’ll drive.” He grinned, unzipping his jeans to make a quick change, too. “I’ll sleep later, while you’re being the doctor.” Without a hint of modesty between them, Chay slipped out of his clothes and walked across the tiny living quarters buck naked to retrieve his own duffel. As much as she would have loved to linger and watch, she couldn’t think about that while his dad was sick. So Joanna took that opportunity to slip into the tiny stall bathroom and make her change. When she came out, he was waiting. Fresh jeans, boots, T-shirt, hat. So gorgeous she ached just from the sight of him.

  Amazing how she’d never come even close to that kind of a reaction with the man she’d gone so far as to marry.

  “Joanna, wake up. We’re almost there. You need to tell me where we’re going.”

  Joanna opened her eyes surprised to find they were already back in Rising Sun. Punching the light on her wristwatch, she was even more surprised at how quickly they’d arrived. “How fast did you drive?” she asked.

  “Fast enough. So tell me where we’re going before we waste all the time I made up.”

  The trip all the way to the clinic to drop him off would take ten more minutes, then the trip back out this way, to the Ducheneaux home, would take another ten. No choice. “Your place,” she said. “Your dad collapsed earlier this evening.”

  Chay made a sharp cut off the road onto a dirt path, then turned off that in a matter of seconds and headed out though the wilds. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” he snarled, swerving to avoid a stump that seemed to jump into the headlights.

  Joanna banged up against the door of the Jeep and her seat belt locked tight over her chest. Struggling to loosen it, she braced herself for the rough, off-road ride ahead. “Because Leonard’s not your patient, and even out here I respect doctor-patient confidentiality.”

  “Damn it, Joanna. He’s my father. I have a right to know.”

  “You do, from him, if he decides to tell you. But that’s not my decision.” The Jeep went airborne over a small hill and thudded to the ground just beyond it, jarring her from her toes to her eyeballs. “Would you slow down?” she yelled. “Getting us both killed won’t help your father. And when we get there you can’t see him, Chay.”

  “What do you mean, I can’t see him?”

  “Do I really have to answer that?” She could see the lights of the Ducheneaux house in the distance. They lived central to both Rising Sun and the ranch. And pretty much nowhere. There wasn’t another soul around for a mile, unless the prairie dogs counted. It’s so lonely out here, she thought as they pulled up in front of the house. Especially for Wenona, at a time like this. “You take care of your mother, and I’ll take care of your father.”

  Chay didn’t say a word as he leapt from the Jeep and ran to the front porch. She expected to find him at Leonard’s bedside by the time she got in there but, thank heavens, as Joanna rushed in the door,
Chay was already sitting on the sofa, holding his mother in his arms.

  “Take care of him Joanna,” he whispered over Wenona’s sobs. “I trust you. Completely.”

  She understood the look on his face. It was one seen on every good physician at the moment of a life-or-death situation. It was the one on her own face just last month as she’d signed the order to discontinue Jack Whirlwind’s ventilator then had watched Phyllis sitting at his bedside holding his hand, talking to him until the very end. Yes, she understood the look on Chay’s face, just as he understood the nod she gave him as she rushed into Leonard’s room.

  She would do her best, but there were never any promises.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “LEONARD?” Joanna moved quietly to his bedside and looked down at him. “Leonard, can you hear me? It’s DocJo.” She took his hand and held it. “If you can hear me, squeeze my hand.”

  He didn’t.

  Leonard Ducheneaux was very pallid. Pallid and nearly lifeless, Joanna discovered quickly. His pulse was thready and rapid. Breathing fast and labored. “Leonard, I know you don’t go for my kind of medicine, but Wenona is worried about you, and she called me.” Pulling out her blood-sugar meter, one of the first things she always did for an unknown problem, she slipped in the test strip, lanced his finger and squeezed out a droplet of blood. Several seconds later she had her answer. The reading was well over eight hundred.

  Diabetes for sure. A coma, and she suspected a stroke on top of it. His pupils were not reactive. His face was drawn up a little on the left side. It happened like this, especially to people who had long years of untreated diabetes behind them. Unfortunately for Leonard, he was well past his golden hour, when the effects of a stroke often could be substantially reversed. But the chances were, his diabetes was so wildly out of control nothing could have reversed the stroke anyway. “OK, Leonard. I’ve got to get you to the hospital for some more tests.” And soon. Another spike in blood sugar or another stroke could, and probably would, kill him.