Move back to Dallas. That is where you belong.”
“I believe Dignity is where God wants me to be.”
“God?” She shook her head. “You always had a streak of religious idealism. I find it hard to believe God cares where you practice medicine.”
Gray shrugged. “You’re entitled to your opinion.”
She slapped a hand on his desk. “I do not understand why you feel you must live in this bumpkin town. What is there in Destiny?”
“It’s Dignity. And it’s people. They need a doctor.”
“There are sick people in Dallas, as well. People who pay for a doctor’s service with things other than chickens, produce from the garden and baked offerings from their kitchen.”
“They give what they have. I find it sufficient.”
Sighing, she sat back in the chair, drumming her fingers on the desktop. “Will you just listen? Give up this crazy idea and move back to Dallas. Papa will set you up in a practice with Jake Brockman, Lyle Lawyer and Frank Smith. We can be married in a month.”
Drawing a deep breath, Gray pulled back the curtains to look out on the street. Dignity wasn’t Dallas, and that was what attracted him. He liked the town’s sleepy lifestyle. He liked its people: good, hardworking, God-fearing farmers, their children and wives, town merchants and neighboring families who came from miles around to seek his medical advice. Gray Fuller’s knowledge, not Brockman, Lawyer, Smith and Fuller’s advice, as Francesca would have it.
The area itself drew him; the small community sat near the upper corner of the port. Rail service of both the Houston and Texas Central and Texas and Pacific lines made travel practical. Hired carriages were available to take one anywhere in the city quickly. But out here in Dignity he enjoyed windswept land, trees shaped by gulf breezes, rolling surf…No, he would not abandon his dream. Not for her, not for any woman.
Families strolled around the common on a cool evening, or brought picnics on Sunday afternoons. Dignity was interesting, compelling, and more to his taste than the Dallas Francesca loved.
It was a sense of peace that had drawn him when he first visited here six months earlier. The doctor in him demanded it, the man in him wanted it.
“Papa was asking about you before I left. He worries that you’re being a fool. He asked if you had come to your senses—”
Gray cut her off. “How is Louis?”
“Oh, chéri,” she complained, “someone has stolen your mind in this town! You are surely not thinking clearly!”
He suddenly lost his patience. Francesca was a beautiful, charming, but spoiled young woman who’d been raised in the lap of luxury, a woman who used her position as leverage to get whatever she wanted. Position her father had earned for her.
Louis DuBois had come to the United States from France shortly before Francesca was born. Starting with little more than ingenuity, he’d built a successful group of medical clinics in Dallas. Francesca was his only child, and he wasn’t subtle about his desire for his daughter to marry Gray.
At first Gray had toyed with the idea; what sane man wouldn’t be intrigued by the offer? Then sanity had returned and he’d decided marriage to Francesca was too high a price to pay for what a life of bondage it would in essence be.
He watched as she rose from her chair and sauntered to the mirror. She appeared to be studying her reflection, but he was aware of the intensity of her deep blue eyes.
“Papa is not a patient man,” she mused. “I fear he will soon tire of asking you, Gray, and bring someone else into the clinic.”
Gray heard the veiled threat in her voice. Submit or else. His independent streak refused to compromise.
“You could return to Dallas and never have to work long hours again. There will be three other men to see to your patients when you have better things to do. Papa will furnish everything we would ever want or need.”
She turned ever so slightly to allow him a better view of what he was refusing. “This would be the perfect time.” Her voice took on a husky timbre, as she mistook his silence for conformity. “The old Tealson mansion is up for sale—I’ve always wanted that house. It has been left to molder a bit, but it’s such a beautiful place. I will decorate it, make it the showplace it should be. We will throw the biggest, most elaborate Christmas parties the city has ever seen! It will be so…”
As she droned on about the possibilities, Gray’s mind turned to Dignity, and Lydia Pinkham’s show a few days earlier. The nerve of that woman, claiming her elixir could cure everything from cramps to kidney ailments. And women were listening to the exaggerated claims!
His irritation eased when he thought about the spunky young woman who’d pretended to faint. Surely if she was the girl he had seen at the mortuary, she would have said so. He smiled. She’d felt rather at home in his arms—
“Gray? Gray?”
Francesca’s strident tone drew him back.
“Sorry. You were saying?”
“You’re not listening to me. You do miss me, don’t you?”
“Of course, Francesca, but my work keeps me busy and I get distracted.”
“If you would only return to Dallas, your life would be so much easier. There is no need—”
“Francesca, we’ve talked this to death.”
“You are entirely too practical, Gray Fuller. But I can wait. For you I will wait.”
“Francesca…”
“Oh, I remember that silly declaration, when you said the wedding was off, but you didn’t mean it.” She came closer and kissed him lightly. “I forgive you, darling. You are coming to Dallas on the twelfth? You know Papa is entertaining some very prominent doctors, and he’ll expect you to be there.”
Though Gray would begrudge the time, he would be there. He’d have the next installment on his debt to Louis by then. Though DuBois had assured him many times that repayment wasn’t necessary, Gray was determined to owe him nothing but gratitude before the next year was finished.
“Gray!” she wailed. “You promised!”
“Of course I’ll be there, Francesca.” He jammed his arms into his jacket. “I’ll instruct all my patients that they are under no circumstance to become indisposed on the twelfth.” Suddenly he needed fresh air.
“Oh, wait! I have something for you.” She picked up a small hatbox and carefully opened it. “You’re going to adore this.”
Gray stared at what he had to assume was a hat, though he’d never call it that himself.
Holding it up for inspection, she grinned. “Isn’t it just the most extraordinary thing?”
Extraordinary? Every bit of that.
“Very nice. You’ll look lovely in it.”
“Me?
