Between Two Worlds (29 page)

“Yes.” Delaney’s heart flew into her throat when Jasmine embraced her.
After the door was closed behind them, she wearily walked back to the exam
room. Her eyes landed on the bloodstains soaking into the plank floors. Warren
Hooper’s blood—blood that Gabriel had caused to flow. She found a stiff brush
and some towels in a closet, soaked the towels in water and soap, and got down
on her hands and knees and began to scrub. Her mind wandered as she scoured.

When Gabriel was beating Hooper, it was as if he were a completely
different person, someone she didn’t recognize. There had been a wild look in
his eye that frightened her. It was as if he’d gone over the edge and hovered
on the brink of insanity for a few short moments. Those strong hands of his had
caused some real damage—something she never would have expected from the
easygoing guy she’d come to know. He’d obviously been hiding a dark side, and
now that she’d seen it firsthand, she was more uncertain than ever about her
feelings. If he was capable of such spur-of-the-moment violent behavior, what
else was he capable of? She didn’t think she wanted to know or find out.

The stain was not going to come out, no matter how hard she
scrubbed. It had soaked into the boards. When Gabriel returned to the clinic,
she was wringing the bloody rags out in the sink. When he sidled up behind her,
she whirled and confronted him. Her gut won over her heart this time.

“I don’t think we can work together anymore,” she said.

He ran his gaze over her, probably noticing the tense set of her shoulders,
the rigid way she held her neck, the fear in her own gaze. He watched the
red-tinted water swirl down the drain and ventured a guess as to her change of
mind. “Why can’t you work for me? Because of what happened here?”

“Yes.” She hung the wet rags on a rack and dried her hands on a
clean towel. “You could have killed that man.”

“But I didn’t,” he countered.

“You came very close. It frightened me.
You
frightened me.
You don’t even act like you regret it.”

“I don’t regret it!”

She stared.

“I didn’t kill him,” he repeated. Their eyes locked. Her body felt
numb.

“Gabriel, I know you wanted to protect me, but the brutality…the
way you attacked him…” She found it difficult to put feelings into words. What
she wanted was to run from him—from this brutal life.

“I need to tell you something,” he said quietly, motioning for her
sit down on the cot. “Maybe then you’ll understand why I reacted the way I
did.”

When she hesitated, he pleaded. “Please. Hear me out before you
judge me.”

She owed him that much. She sat on the cot and folded her hands in
her lap. “Okay, I’m listening.”

He settled beside her and began. “The day we saw Warren whipping
his horse, you asked me if I’d been a professional boxer.”

“I remember.”

“Well, I’ve never been a boxer, but I
have
used my hands
before. They became weapons against another human being.”

“Go on,” she prompted.

“I was eighteen years old and living in Illinois. I had a
girlfriend. Her name was Carrie. She and I were getting serious—as serious as
young people that age can be. One night I was walking her home from a dance.
She lived on the outskirts of town, so we were taking the gravel road. She
lived about a half-mile out. It was a perfect summer evening. A full moon was lighting
our way, the air was warm, and the locusts were singing. We were holding hands
and enjoying each other’s company when we heard a wagon coming up the road
behind us. We stepped into the grass and waited for it to pass. It rolled up
beside us and stopped. I tipped my hat to the driver, but he glared at me. I
didn’t recognize the man. His skin was coal black, which was an unusual sight
to see in our small town. I laughed when he fell out of the wagon, but then I
got a real bad feeling. Not because of his color, mind you,” Gabriel added
quickly, “but I could tell right off that he was drunk, by the way he staggered
and slurred his words. He was even holding a bottle of liquor in his hand.”

He paused, and his Adam’s apple slid up and down his throat. “It
all happened so fast. He started whistling and making rude comments directed at
Carrie. I told him to stop but he just laughed. Do you want me to go on?”

Delaney urged him to continue.

“Carrie got real scared. She wasn’t used to drunken people. She
tugged on my arm, and we continued walking up the road. I took her hand again,
and she was shaking like a leaf. The man yelled for us to come back. He said he
wanted to get to know Carrie better. I hollered at him to get in his wagon and
go back to wherever he came from. We picked up our pace, but the next thing I
knew, that man was behind us, and he had me by the scruff of my neck. He was a half
foot taller than me and probably forty or fifty pounds heavier. He threw me to
the ground before I knew what was going on. I heard Carrie scream and saw his
bloodshot eyes gleaming at me. I knew we were in trouble. I jumped to my feet,
yelled for Carrie to run, and then I saw his fist fly into my face.”

Delaney’s eyes enlarged. “Oh, my God. What happened next?”

“My world went dark. I don’t think I was out long, but it was long
enough for him to…to…” Gabriel’s gaze dropped to his lap.

“He molested her.” Delaney finished for him, already knowing.

He nodded. “Carrie was lying on the grass when I came to. He was
still on top of her. Her head was turned to the side, and her eyes were looking
straight at me, but they weren’t Carrie’s eyes at all. They were two blank,
vacant holes. I wasn’t even sure she was alive for a moment. Tears stained her
cheeks, but her face showed no emotion. She was just lying there, helpless. I
think she’d gone somewhere else in her mind.”

“Oh, Gabriel.” Delaney took his hand and held it while feeling
tears prick her eyes.

“Something snapped in me,” he continued. “I guess I went crazy. I
was the man and she was the woman. I was supposed to protect her. I wanted to
kill
that guy for what he’d done to my innocent Carrie. My nose was bleeding, I realized
later, but I felt no pain. The adrenaline raced through my veins. I had no
fear. I stumbled to my feet and tackled him. I pulled him off her, drew back my
arm and punched him—one knuckle-fisted blow to the side of the head.”

“And?” she whispered, afraid to know what came next.

He sighed. “That was all it took. One punch, and the man was dead.
The undertaker who examined him the next day said the blow to his temple was
placed perfectly.”

“You killed him?” Her mouth dropped open.

“Yes. I didn’t mean to. His name was Havers. Leonard Havers. We
later found out he’d assaulted other girls around the county. I was considered
a hero, but I didn’t feel like one. I already knew I wanted to become a doctor,
but I’d killed a man. I couldn’t reconcile the two.”

“Were you arrested?”

“No charges were brought against me. Everyone understood what had
happened, but his face has haunted me ever since. I was only trying to protect
Carrie that night. Just like I was protecting you from Hooper today. When I saw
that trash straddling you…that same rage boiled over in me. It was the same
helplessness I’d felt all those years ago when I couldn’t stop the assault on
Carrie. Only this time I
could
do something about it.”

“What happened to Carrie wasn’t your fault,” Delaney said, trying
to console him. “That man had knocked you out. You were young. It was something
horrible and tragic that happened.”

Gabriel ignored her. “I wanted to hurt Hooper, the same way he’d
hurt Jasmine, and the way he was about to hurt you.”

“Oh, Gabriel.” Delaney pulled him close and didn’t let go. She overflowed
with compassion. Her eyes grew damp. She now understood why he couldn’t stop
beating Warren. “I understand, Gabriel. I know why you did it.”

He pulled back and blinked. His eyes were rimmed in red. “It’s not
easy. I’m a doctor. I took an oath to heal, not harm.”

She ran her hand through his hair and cradled his face in her
palm. “Yes, you’re a doctor. A very fine one. But you’re a human being first,
Gabriel. A man who did what he had to do to protect me, and I’ll be forever
grateful. I don’t blame you. I understand. I don’t judge you.”

“I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you,” he said, palming
her face in his hands. “I had to stop him, or I’d never forgive myself.”

“I know.” She brushed her fingertips over the stubble on his chin and
down his neck. When he embraced her, she melted against his chest. Their mouths
moved against each other, beginning soft and tentative at first, and then
building until their fierce, frantic rhythm sent them into a wild spiral of
passion. When their lips finally parted, she dropped her head onto his
shoulder, and they stayed that way for a long while.

Twenty-Two

Gabriel locked the clinic and slipped the key in his vest pocket.
He’d suggested they get away and go somewhere where they could both relax after
their disturbing morning. They decided to spend the afternoon at the river, but
Delaney wanted to change clothes first. She was glad they were going to have
time alone. She wanted to tell him the story Donovan had begun to tell her in
the café.

When they entered the boarding house, he told her he’d wait for
her in the parlor, since men weren’t allowed upstairs.

“I’ll be quick,” she assured him.

Charlotte was drawn from her bedroom by the sound of boots on the
stairs. “Delaney,” she called, rushing into the foyer. Her skirts swished with
her quick steps.

“Hi, Charlotte.” She swung around and greeted her landlady with a
tired, but warm smile.

“Are you all right, dear? We got word about what happened at the
medical clinic. The whole town is buzzing. That horrible man! Did he hurt you?
I’ve been so worried.”

Delaney descended the stairs and reached for Charlotte’s hand.
“No. He didn’t hurt me. Gabriel arrived in the nick of time.”

He poked his head around the corner, having heard the two of them
talking in the foyer.

“Oh, Dr. Whitman! You’re our hero!” Charlotte tossed her arms
around his broad shoulders, expressing a genuine emotion that she hadn’t shown before.
“Thank God you saved our Delaney from that criminal. I hope they’ve locked him
up and thrown away the key.”

“I believe he’s bound for a very long prison sentence,” Gabriel assured
her.

“How’s the sheriff?”

“He’s going to be fine. Have you heard anything about the posse
that went after the other man?”

Charlotte shook her head. “Lucinda’s wrought with worry. Ike went
with them, you know.”

“No, I didn’t know. I don’t believe there’s much for her to worry
about. Ike can take care of himself. And one man is not going to get far with a
dozen riders after him. Hooper was the real danger, in my opinion.”

“I hope you’re right. For Lucy’s sake. I don’t know what she’d do
if she lost that man.” Her gaze ping-ponged between Gabriel and Delaney. “Thank
God you two are safe,” she repeated.

“I appreciate your concern, Charlotte,” Delaney said. “Gabriel and
I are going to go to the river for a while this afternoon. We need to take our
minds off everything that’s happened. I was just headed upstairs to change my
clothes first.”

“Tread softly, dear,” Charlotte said, placing a finger on her
lips. “Poor Fletcher isn’t feeling well. Georgia is tending to him upstairs. I
think he’s running a fever. She’s been dunking him in a cold tub.”

Gabriel’s ears perked. “Dunking him? Why? What other symptoms is
he exhibiting?”

“I’m not sure. He didn’t go to school this morning. He complained of
a sore throat when he woke.”

“Would you like me to check on them when I go up?” Delaney asked Gabriel.

“Yes. Tell the mother I’m down here, in case she wants me to take examine
the boy.”

“Okay. I’ll let you know.” She headed upstairs, leaving Gabriel
and Charlotte standing together at the foot of the staircase.

Before she reached the top, she heard Charlotte ask Gabriel if he’d
like a cup of tea or coffee, and their footsteps retreated from the foyer. She
knocked on Georgia’s door. When the door opened, she immediately knew something
was dreadfully wrong. She could hear moaning coming from inside. “Hello, Georgia.
Charlotte told me Fletcher’s sick. I came to check on him, and you.”

Georgia’s hair was pulled back, but some loose tendrils stuck to
her face, which looked flushed and wet. “He is, Delaney. He’s bad sick. Running
a high fever. I’ve been trying to cool him with cold baths and wet cloths, but
his temperature is not coming down any.”

“Dr. Whitman’s downstairs. Since he’s here, he should take a look
at him.”

Georgia appeared relieved. “Should we haul Fletch downstairs?”

“No. Let me ask Charlotte if she’ll make an exception this time
and allow Gabriel upstairs. I’ll be right back.” Delaney flew down the stairs
and poked her head into the parlor, where Charlotte and Gabriel had just sat down
with their tea. “Gabriel, I think you do need to look at Fletch. Charlotte,
would you allow him to go upstairs just this once? I don’t think Fletch is well
enough to be moved. I heard him moaning. It sounds like he’s really ill.”