Between Two Worlds (14 page)

She shook her head. “No. I looked for him, but that rascal is
avoiding me. I’ll find him, though. Don’t you worry.”

“I won’t,” he chuckled. “I suspect you always get your man.”

Delaney spun around. “Oh! I forgot to tell you. I met a real
Native American today.”

“A Native American?”

“An Indian. We call them Native Americans where I come from. His
name is He Who Fights Bravely, and a feisty gray donkey was traveling with him.
He’d been hunting rabbits. He sat down and we chatted for about a minute and a
half. I wanted him to stay longer, but it seemed he was in a hurry to move on.”

Gabriel checked the cinch on his horse. “Pima,” he replied. “You
weren’t afraid?”

“At first I was because he snuck up on me. But he smiled and
started a conversation in English, and he didn’t look dangerous, so I figured
he wasn’t the scalping kind.”

Gabriel grinned. “The Pima are peaceful and generous people. They live
south of here along the Salt. They’ve developed a very sophisticated irrigation
system. They grow everything from wheat and beans and pumpkins to cotton, corn
and tobacco. Their women weave exquisite baskets and make red and black
pottery. Some of their men served as scouts for the U.S. Army from 1861 up
until 1886, during the Apache wars. You were lucky it was He Who Fights Bravely
that dropped by and not an Apache. An Apache would have done more than just
scalp your pretty head.” He cocked his head and waited for her reaction.

She frowned and shivered again. Despite having changed into the
dry skirt and blouse, the wet corset and cotton drawers were soaking through.
She felt chilled to the bone.

“Come on,” Gabriel urged, motioning with his hand. He must have
seen her tremble. “I’ll take you back to the boarding house to change before
you catch pneumonia.”

“Can we ride double on Lady Godiva?”

“Of course. You don’t think I’d make you walk back to town, do
you? Put your boot in my hands.” He cupped his hands together and bent his
knees. She stepped in with her left foot, and he heaved her up and over. She
easily swung her right leg over the leather saddle and stuck her foot in the stirrup
on the other side. “You’re going to sit in front of me,” he said, beckoning for
her to move forward.

“How’s that going to work?”

“You'll have to sit side saddle. You can’t ride behind me in that
long skirt. Scoot up and swing your legs to the side and let me climb on.”

She held onto the saddle horn and grunted as she maneuvered her
legs over the side. Once his feet were in the stirrups and his backside was securely
in the saddle, he put his hands around her waist and pulled her close to his
chest.

“How’s that?” he asked. “Are you comfortable?”

Squirming underneath the clothes that were heavy and sodden, she
answered, “As comfortable as I’m going to get, I suppose.”

“Keep a hold on the saddle horn, but be assured I won’t let you fall.”
He lifted the reins with his left hand. His right hand remained firmly around
her waist, his fingers splayed against her tummy. With a click of his tongue,
he urged Lady Godiva into a trot back to Phoenix.

Eleven

When they arrived at Quinn’s Boarding House, Gabriel hated to let
go of Delaney. He had, in fact, tried to make the trip last longer by taking a
route that was not exactly a shortcut. As a man, he’d wanted to touch her and
feel her snuggled next to him for as long as possible. But as a doctor, he knew
he needed to get her back to change into dry clothes before she caught her death
of pneumonia.

Despite them both being as damp as a winter snow, Gabriel had
never before felt such heat radiate through his veins. When she was sitting in
front of him ensconced in his arms, he’d had the strongest desire to kiss her
neck and nuzzle his nose in her lavender-scented hair. Being near the woman
caused a quickening in his chest. When she laughed and smiled, his heart
thundered. On the ride home, she’d teased him by flipping her hair in his face,
and a cold sweat had trickled down his spine. Once, she’d leaned back and
relaxed against his shoulder, and her touch had sent a jolt of desire racing
through him that ignited every nerve ending in his body.

Gabriel doubted she even knew the effect she had on him. She
didn’t act as if she felt the same way. Of course, he couldn’t blame her. They
were from two completely different worlds, living 124 years apart. It was foolish
for him to think they could have something meaningful and true together. She’d
traveled through time to get there, but not by choice or any doing of her own,
and she was determined to go back to where she’d come from. Even if being with
her seemed like a dream, her desire to leave was very real.

He climbed down and tied his horse to the hitching post outside of
Mrs. Quinn’s.

“Fletch! What’s wrong?” Delaney cried from atop Lady Godiva. The
boy sat on the porch steps with his hands tucked under his chin, looking like
he’d lost his only toy. When he didn’t answer, she slid off the horse without
waiting for Gabriel to help her dismount. After she plopped down next to the
child on the steps, she tipped his face up and saw his cheeks were damp and his
eyes red.

Gabriel sauntered over to the house and leaned against one of the
porch posts, crossed his arms over his chest, and nonchalantly listened in on
their conversation.

“Are you hurt?” she asked. The boy shook his blond head. “Where’s
your mother?”

“Inside. Cleaning.” His lip curled in a pout.

“Is there something you’d like to talk to Dr. Whitman about?”

“I don’t know.”

When Delaney glanced at him, Gabriel shrugged. “Can
I
help
you with anything?” she asked.

This time the boy did the shrugging, and his lip began to quiver.
A tear rolled down his cheek. He quickly swiped it away with the back of his
hand. She placed her arm around the little boy’s shoulder. “What happened?
What’s made you so upset?”

“Some of the boys at school tease me,” he blurted. “They say I’m a
bastard ’cause I don’t have a pa.” He sucked in a deep breath, and when he
exhaled, his whole body shuddered.

“Why, that’s a terrible thing for anyone to say!” Delaney appeared
genuinely surprised at how cruel children could be, but Gabriel remembered kids
he knew as a child being picked on, too. “No one should be calling you names,”
she cried. “Especially such a crude name. They probably don’t even know what
the word means. You have a pa, he’s just…just…”

“In heaven?” the boy finished.

“Yes. That’s where your pa is. Didn’t you tell those boys that
your father died in a horse accident?”

“Yes. They said I’m a liar. They said I don’t really have a pa at
all. That I made him up! I’m not a liar and I didn’t make him up. I have a
tin-type of him next to my bed.” Fletcher sniffled and bowed his head.

Delaney consoled him. “Of course you didn’t make your pa up. It’s
ridiculous for anyone to say such a thing.” She smoothed his hair with her
hand. Gabriel stood like a silent guard nearby, watching. “You must miss your
pa a lot,” she said.

Fletcher’s head bobbed up and down.

“I lost my mother when I was just a little older than you.”

“You did?” Fletch wiped his running nose on his shirtsleeve.

“Uh-huh. So I know how you feel. I’m grown up now, but I still
miss her. You know, other kids can be mean when they don’t understand
something. People don’t understand what it’s like to lose a mom or dad until it
happens to them. But that still doesn’t give those boys the right to pick on you.”

“When I told them to stop calling me a liar, they slapped my head
and pushed me down on the ground.”

“What?” Delaney’s outrage translated into knuckle cracking. “How
dare those boys touch you! Did you defend yourself?”

Fletch shook his head. “I don’t know how.”

“Well, I do,” she said, her blue eyes flashing. She jumped up and
encouraged Fletch to stand, and then leaned over and tugged on Gabriel’s hand.
“Dr. Whitman is a boxer. He can teach you some defensive moves. You need to
know how to protect yourself from those bullies.”

“Wait a minute, Delaney.” Gabriel gently protested, uncrossing his
arms. “Whatever gave you the idea I’m a boxer? Anyway, shouldn’t we get
permission from his mother before we teach him how to fight? Maybe she doesn’t
want him to handle conflict that way.”

“Baloney. Every boy needs to learn how to take care of himself.
You apparently did.” She slid a querying look at him. “Besides, it’ll build his
confidence. Teaching the child a couple of basic jabs won’t hurt. Will it,
Fletch?” She clamped her hand on his narrow shoulder.

The boy’s eyes widened, and a grateful smile spread across his
face. “My ma won’t care!” he shouted as he sprang up from the steps.

Gabriel gave her a sidelong gaze. “You’re going to catch your
death. Go in and change your clothes before you become the next patient on my
table. Please.”

“You’re right,” Delaney acknowledged. A shiver racked her body.
“My skin’s puckering like a prune. But how about you? You’re soaking wet, too.”

“I’ll wait here with Fletch until you come back out and then I’ll
go home and change. In the meantime, this young man and I will have a chat.”

By home, he meant the clinic. A tiny room in the back of an office
wasn’t a home, but it was all he had at the moment. Someday he hoped to own a
real home, with a wife and family to share it with. He stared at Delaney
wondering if she harbored the same type of dreams.

“All right. I’ll be back in a jiffy,” she said. “Give the boy a
few pointers while you’re chatting.” She winked at Fletcher and then dashed up
the stairs and into the house with her skirt leaving a wet trail across the porch
floor.

Fifteen minutes later she returned to the porch looking as fresh
as a daisy in a narrow-waist dress, her hair done up, and her lips freshened to
a pink glow. She seemed delighted to find Gabriel in the front yard showing
Fletcher the proper way to hold his fists and the correct stance to take when
boxing. He and the boy were concentrating deeply as he showed Fletch some basic
moves and encouraged him to take a few stabs at his open palms. When the lesson
was over, Delaney clapped her hands and joined them on the lawn.

“Good job, Fletch! Looks like Doc Whitman gave you some good
tips.”

“He did! Now I won’t be afraid of those bullies anymore.”

“Remember what I told you, son,” Gabriel warned. “Violence is not
the way to solve your problems. Conflict breeds conflict.”

“Yes, sir.” Fletch reiterated the doctor’s advice, “Only fight
when there are no other options. Then fight fair.”

“That’s right.” Gabriel grinned and ruffled the child’s blond
hair.

“Thanks, Doc!”

“You’re welcome.”

Fletcher ran up the stairs and flung open the front door. “See ya
later, Delaney!” he shouted over his shoulder.

“See ya, Fletch!” She waved as he disappeared inside. Chuckling,
she faced Gabriel and perused him up and down. “Your clothes are as wrinkled as
the skin of a Shar-pei dog.”

“What kind of dog—”

“Never mind. That was sweet of you to show him some moves.”

“I didn’t have much choice, did I?” He gently jabbed her shoulder
blade with a finger. “Why’d you tell the kid I was a boxer?”

“Because of the way you handled yourself with Warren Hooper. I
figure you must have trained professionally at some time. Did you?”

He felt himself grow blank on the inside, like a dark cloud had
entered his body.  He hoped she didn’t notice. Shaking his head in order to eradicate
the melancholy thoughts, he gave her half a grin. “You’ll not learn all my
secrets in two days. You have to stick around if you want to know more about
me.”

“Oh. I see you’re not opposed to using bribery in order to get
what you want, Dr. Whitman.”

“Call it what you wish, Miss Marshall. I’m not opposed to anything,
as long as it keeps you here in 1888 longer.” He winked, turned on his heel,
and unhitched Lady Godiva. Then he stepped into the stirrup and swung his
weight into the saddle and nodded at Delaney. She’d moved to the horse’s side
and was stroking her mane. “I need to get back to the clinic and check on
Frank. I shouldn’t have left him and Alma this long. Are you returning to town
to search for Donovan?”

“Yes. I’m at a standstill until I can get some information out of
him. Will I see you later?”

“You can count on it.” She smiled, and he clucked his tongue and
prodded the mare’s side with his boots.

“Gabriel!” Delaney called.

He’d trotted about fifty feet forward. He told his horse to whoa
and craned his neck around. “Yes?”

“I meant to ask why you came out to the river today.”

He didn’t hesitate with his answer. “To see you. I thought you
understood. You didn’t think it was merely happenstance, did you?”

“No. Not really. But how’d you know I’d be there? Right then, I
mean. I hadn’t told anyone I was going to the river. It was perfect timing.”
She waited, looking adorable as she nibbled her bottom lip.