Thoughts about the good doctor and the way he reacted to her kiss last night occupied her thoughts. She became aware of the amount of time passing since Doc had left. It had been almost half an hour and she wondered what could be taking him so long. Had he run into trouble? Thoughts of those men in the alley resurfaced. Had they decided to seek revenge for Doc’s interference that day? No, everyone in town knew Doc and the sheriff didn’t seem like the kind of man to allow something like that to happen in his town. Besides, Doc said the three men were so drunk, they readily believed his story that the cut on the one man’s arm was because they were brothers fighting among themselves. It was more likely his delay was caused by someone who had a medical emergency. That was the way of a healer’s life, she supposed.
The clopping noise of a trotting horse moving in her direction on the hard-packed dirt street behind the house pulled her attention to it. Within a few seconds, Doc rode into view. “I’m so sorry I’m so late.”
Her heart stumbled at the sight of him. “It’s fine. I’m tagging along with you, not the other way around. I’m at the disposal of your schedule, remember?”
She saw Doc breathe in a sigh of relief. “Still, I don’t like to be late. And I worried Angus would leave you alone out here.”
“No, Angus is just inside the barn. A quick holler away. And, he’s very much occupied with his barn duties.” She wasn’t going to tell Doc what she’d seen. It wasn’t her story to tell. If Sarah and Angus had anything they wanted everyone to know, they would share the news themselves. “Did you have an unexpected medical emergency interrupt your morning?”
“Um . . . yeah, I suppose you could say I had an unexpected interruption this morning.” His answer seemed a bit cryptic, but she didn’t press him for answers. She just hoped his morning hadn’t been interrupted by the female version. She didn’t want to be jealous of him, but she wanted to know everything about him. What little she did know of the man, she found it harder and harder not to be just a little bit green at the mention of possible female friends.
She looked up at him sitting tall and handsome on his horse, and once again her thoughts of last night’s kiss pulled her gaze back to his lips. What would it feel like to kiss him, and he actually kissed her back?
“Are you alright? We don’t have to go today if you aren’t feeling well.” He jumped down off his horse and touched her cheeks and forehead with the back of his hand. She forced herself not to lean to his touch. “You look a little flushed.”
“I’m fine. My skin is so fair, the least bit of sun just lights me up. It’s a curse of the Irish,” she teased.
He stepped back and studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Well, if you’re sure. I can always take you another day, you know.”
“No, I’m fine and I must admit I’m looking forward to this trip immensely. The bay or the black?” She asked before Doc could cancel their trip to the mountains altogether. Her intuition sensed he was hesitant about taking her with him and she feared it was that kiss last night that had marred their budding friendship.
“I’ll ride the black. He’s a little hard-headed, but I’m certain you have wrangled worse horses into submission.”
She exchanged the black’s reins for the bay’s. “That’s true. When the men in our village rounded up the wild ponies, they broke them to ride. There was always one or two who were not agreeable to being tamed. The trouble was, one never knew which pony that was until you were on his back.”
Doc laughed. “That must have been an unexpected surprise at the time,” he teased.
Mary mounted the bay and brought the horse alongside Doc mounted on the black. “That first buck and jump were very unexpected, but I learned to master the spirit of the pony without breaking it to my will. We respected each other, taking from the other only what we needed.”
“Did your Ute father teach you that? Most women don’t get that privilege. You must have been very special to them.” She saw the look of respect in his eyes.
“No, my father was against my lessons. And many men in the village were angry at To-arr Quan-it-ige for teaching me, a mere woman, the secrets of harnessing the power of the ponies. But he did not care what they thought. He wanted me to know how to survive at all costs.”
“This To-arr Quan-it-ige, Gray Eagle, he must have cared for you very much. Was he your adopted brother?” Doc asked and guided Jasper toward the street. She kept the bay close to him so they could talk along the road.
“No, Gray Eagle was my husband.”
Doc rode in stunned silence after Mary’s revelation. He should have considered she would have been given to one of the men in the village after so much time had passed. Fourteen years was a long time for a single woman to be without the protection of a man, father or no father. No wonder she was so intent on returning to the Utes. She had a husband. Children perhaps? She hadn’t said anything about children, but then again, she hadn’t said anything about a husband either—until now.
Together, he and Mary rode side by side up the dirt road north of town that led to the many wildlife trails across the mountain peaks. He should be relaxed and enjoying the ride, but this morning there had been too many revelations and they were stealing away the peace his trips to the mountains usually brought him.
He silently watched Mary as they rode along together. He could tell she was happy she’d come with him.
“It’s so beautiful here. And it seems so familiar riding up these trails that thread through the pine forests. Is that where we will hunt your herbs and roots today?” He followed her finger to the high meadow at the top of the ridge.
“Yes, you have a good eye for that sort of thing.” He replied and pushed Jasper up the steep and narrowing trail. The sun was climbing higher in the morning sky and he welcomed the warmth it brought to the shadows of the trees covering them.
“I miss that smell, don’t you?” Mary inhaled a breath of mountain air which she exhaled and then quickly drew in another one.
“What smell are you referring to?” He hadn’t been paying attention.
“The pines. When the sun warms the pine trees, the pine needles release their fragrant scent. There’s no other smell like it as far as I’m concerned.”
“I would agree, except maybe the smell of the forest after a rain when all the smells combine into one.”
“That’s true. I hadn’t thought of that.” Mary admitted and returned her attention to the sights, sounds, and scents surrounding them.
They rode along another half hour or so without conversation when Doc’s curiosity finally got the better of him. “I know you miss your life with the Mountain Utes, Mary, but is it so hard to give Liam and Creede a chance?” Thoughts of this morning’s unexpected meeting with her brother swirled around inside his head. What on earth was Liam thinking by asking him to pretend to have feelings for Mary just to keep her from going back to the only family she had known during the last fourteen years. He couldn’t say all of his feelings for Mary would have been pretend, but he wasn’t the marrying kind.
He caught the skeptical look she sent him before she answered his question. “You have to ask me that after my interaction with those drunken men in broad daylight? Really, Doc. You saw what happens when people see my face. They make assumptions and if I’m unable to defend myself, how am I to survive in a place like that?”
She had a point and he understood that there would always be someone who held her past against her, but there were others who could be swayed if they just had the time to get to know the real Mary. He recognized the hypocrisy in that thought and rationalized that Mary deserved their understanding. He did not.
Doc tried a different tactic. “People are afraid of what they don’t understand, but you have enough family and friends in town to help persuade people to look past the marks on your face and understand what happened to you was not your fault. You were a little girl who was taken and you survived. It might take some time to convince some people, but in time, it could happ
en.”
Mary shook her head. “I’m not sure I want that to happen. That’s the problem. Liam only knows one perspective. His. I’ve had the opportunity to see a different perspective than the one I was born to, and I have to admit I like this one better.”
“Is that because of your husband? Is that the reason you want to return to the mountains?” He asked the question before the idea was fully formed in his mind.
A sad smile crossed her face. “No, that is not the reason, although I do still miss him.”
“I see.” He tried not to seem curious about Mary’s Ute husband, but that was an aspect of her life he hadn’t seen coming and the thought of this man waiting for Mary to return to him, knowing there was a chance she wouldn’t—
A sudden thought occurred to him. “Do you think your husband would come after you if you don’t go back? I can see how that might cause a commotion, not only with Liam, but the whole town. It could get ugly, Mary.”
“No, you need not worry. He will not come after me, but sometimes when I cannot sleep, he visits me in my dreams. That is enough.”
“If he loves you enough, don’t you think he’ll want to get you back?”
“He will not be coming. Of that, I am sure.”
Doc didn’t know why he was pressing Mary so hard for answers about her husband. It was none of his business he told himself, other than he should let Liam know if there was a possibility just to keep everyone safe he tried to convince himself. “How can you be so sure?” he pressed.
“Because Gray Eagle was killed almost ten years ago. He won’t be returning from the dead like I did.”
Doc felt sad knowing Mary had one more heartbreaking loss in her life that no one knew anything about, but he was relieved he didn’t have to worry—that Liam and the town of Creede didn’t have to worry that is, of an unexpected Ute invasion arriving in town one morning hell-bent on taking Mary back with them. That would not be a good day for anyone. The thought of Mary riding away affected him more than he wanted to admit. “Do you mind me asking what happened to him? You don’t have to tell me if it’s too painful to talk about.”
“It is no longer painful. I’ve had a lot of time to find a purpose for his death.”
Purpose for his death? That was an odd phrase. While he thought about her choice of words, he watched her stare off into the distance and he could sense she was gathering the memories of long ago. Then, she began her story. “The young men of our village left early one morning on a hunting trip. It was early fall and they were tracking a large herd of elk in the high meadows when they were attacked by a large group of white men who were hunting the same herd. Instead of bows and arrows, the men had long rifles and they used them against my people. My husband.”
“I’m sorry, Mary.” It was all he could think of to say.
“They killed every brave in the hunting party even though the herd was large in number. There would have been enough meat to feed everyone, but the men who had come to our mountains to dig the rocks out of the ground were selfish and did not want to share. It was almost a week before the elders of our village grew concerned and sent a party of scouts to look for them. What they found was something no one wanted to see. The bodies of our men were left to rot on the mountain. Wild animals had pecked at their bones and scattered them like leaves in the wind. There was a great mourning that lasted for many months. Many men wanted to ride into the mountains and kill the rock hunters, but the wise men in our village refused to allow it for they said it would only bring more death to us.”
“Your wise elders were right, you know. A retaliation against injustice would only result in another retaliation against our people and it would just continue until death and destruction covered every inch of those mountains.”
“Our people?” He heard Mary say.
“What?”
“You said against our people. What did you mean our people?”
“No, you must have misunderstood. I was referring to your adopted family.” He tried to distract Mary from his slip of words.
“No, I know exactly what I heard and you said our people.” She stopped her horse in the middle of the road and turned in the saddle to face him. “Now I understand. This explains so many of the mysteries about you, doctor.” Her gaze was sharp and too observant for comfort.
He pulled his horse up short and faced Mary hoping his attempt at openness would give her the illusion he had nothing to hide. “Well, if I did, it was a slip of the tongue and you shouldn’t read so much into it,” he scoffed in hopes of dismissing her intensity. He kicked his horse forward, but Mary reached out and pulled the reins to stop his horse.
“No, it wasn’t a slip of the tongue either. I see now what was in front of me all along. I understand what escaped me before and I know now why I feel such a connection to you . . . to a stranger I barely know. I can see the truth for it has revealed itself and I wonder why you have kept it hidden from everyone for so long.”
He didn’t want her to see anything. Not about him or his past and he certainly didn’t want her to feel a connection to him, because as much as he admired the woman’s courage and resilience, he was emotionally barren with nothing left to give. “Alright, then tell me. What is it you think you know?” He refused to look at her for fear of seeing the truth in her eyes.
“You are Ute.”
Chapter 12
Mary stared at the man on the horse beside her. How had she missed the signs? Perhaps she had been so caught up in her own journey, she had failed to see his.
He shook his head in denial and started to speak, but she stopped him. “No, you will lie no more. You are Ute. I see it now. The shade of your hair. The color of your eyes, the sun-kissed color of your skin.”
“Mary, are you saying that because I have dark hair and dark eyes and I spend a lot of time in the sun, that makes me a Ute? Be serious.”
He kicked his horse into motion and this time he kept their animals far enough away from each other she couldn’t reach the reins. She followed and soon rode beside him again.
“You cannot fool me any longer, Doc. I see the truth now and it is not possible for me to unsee it.”
He kept his eyes on the trail in front of them. “Look, there’s Achillea millefolium L better known as Common Yarrow. I use it for extreme bruising.” Mary watched the man riding beside her. She could see in his movements he was restless. Nervous. She wanted to know more.
They rode along in silence another mile or so before he pointed out another familiar plant. “That is Abronia fragrans nutt also known as—”
“The Ute name is sa-gwam-si-gwiv.” She supplied the name for him. “It’s a type of verbena used for ails of the stomach. The Utes have long used the roots and flowers along with all the other plants you’ve mentioned. That’s how you know so much about medicinal plants. And how you know our language so well. You’re Ute, or at least part Ute.”
“Nonsense, I told you when we first met I spent a lot of time with the Mountain Utes. That’s how I learned about the plants and that’s how I learned about the language.”
“You did more than spend a lot of time with the Utes. You lived with the Utes. No, you lived as a Ute. Do not deny it any longer for I can hear the lies in your words.”
Doc refused to speak about it to her. He kept his eyes forward and his spine was stiff and unyielding. She was left to wonder about the story behind his denials. What had made him deny his people? He was a true Ute, ordained by blood, not like her who was Ute by declaration.
It was obvious he wasn’t open to talking about it. At least, not right now, so she contented herself to ride along hoping to find another opening to bring up the subject. She had so many questions she wanted to ask him. Did she know his people? Had she crossed paths with him before? Where had he gone to medical school? Where had he grown up? Where was his family now?
Lost in her thoughts, she was surprised when Doc finally pulled his horse to a stop. “Let’s take a rest here and grab a bite of
that lunch Aggie provided.” He never looked directly at her. Instead, he dismounted, tied his horse to a downed pine trunk, then headed into the heavy brush and disappeared. He sought privacy for nature’s call. She did the same.
Five minutes later, she heard the rustle of trees and peeked from her hiding spot behind a thick stand of young pines she’d picked to relieve herself in private. She watched Doc emerge from his own hiding place and he made a beeline for the picnic basket tied to the back of her saddle and untied it.
He carried it to a large rock, the size of a small wagon, and set it down. Instead of digging inside to see what delightful morsels awaited him, he sat down beside it and dropped his head in his hands as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. What was troubling the man? Could he be that upset she had discovered his secret? And why would he care if she knew? Of all people, shouldn’t she be the one he would think most understanding?
Mary watched him a few minutes more and then left her hiding place. “What’s in the basket?” She called out although she knew full well it was stocked full of cold roast beef, a homemade loaf of sourdough bread, and a generous tin of peach cobbler.
He jerked his head up and pretended to have been searching inside of the basket. He listed off the basket’s ingredients and set them out on the rock one by one. She watched his movements, but he still refused to look at her.
“That looks delicious. I’ll have to thank Aggie and Sarah personally when we get back to town,” she said. Doc just nodded and made them both a sandwich. “By the way,” she said when he handed her the food, “I saw something interesting before you arrived at the Hanovers this morning.”
His dark eyes shot up in surprise. “Really? Like what?” When he realized his gaze connected with hers so he returned his full attention to his sandwich. There was a tension between them that hadn’t been there before this morning’s revelation and she wanted to make it go away.
Mary Page 14
