were black. His perfect, straight nose was broken. When the dirt and blood were washed away, she straightened his nose and taped it into place.
“Who would do something like this to another human?”
“From what I’ve heard about his escapades since he left here, I imagine he’s made his share of enemies,” Rachel observed, as she began to cut away his trousers to check his lower body for injuries. They were minimal, just several nasty bruises.
“Boots?” Edward asked.
“I’d say so,” she concurred, thoughtfully. “That’s probably how the ribs were broken. He’ll spend a miserable few weeks,” she stated and felt a sudden rush of shame for the jolt of satisfaction that accompanied the thought. Her father’s puzzled expression told her that he, too, was wondering at the root of her animosity. Well, let him wonder. She had no intention of enlightening him. Not now. Not ever.
“Was he robbed?” Edward asked.
“Apparently. Simon said his empty wallet was lying a few feet from him.”
“Wasn’t there another robbery near Antoine a couple of months ago?”
“Yes,” she said, pulling a sheet over his lower body. “Can you reach the bandages?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll lift him upright if you can stand long enough to wrap him up.”
“I can,” Edward said, and they proceeded to bind the broken ribs.
“Do you think it was the same bunch, since Sheriff Garrett never caught the culprits?” he asked, as he tied off the ends of the bandage.
“Probably.”
“Do you need any help with the arm?”
“I can get it, thanks.” She splinted the arm and then poured a basin of water and began to wash the congealed blood from the gash on his face. It would leave an ugly scar.
“He’s going to need stitches,” she noted, staring dispassionately at the jagged wound, possibly made with a knife.
And how will your lady friends like that? I wonder.
Her teeth clamped down on her lower lip, and shame again swept through her at her uncharacteristic spitefulness. She felt angry and sick to her stomach and oddly depleted.
“Too bad,” Edward said. “He’s always been such a good-looking guy.”
Gabe was starting to move around by the time she finished stitching him up, so she gave him a draft of laudanum to help him sleep. Once she finished treating him, she and Roland settled Gabe in the downstairs bedroom she reserved for the occasional overnight patient.
“Do you know him?” Roland asked.
“It’s Gabe Gentry,” she said, pulling the quilts up to his chin.
“I sort of remember him from when I was a little kid. Didn’t he take off to see the world several years ago?”
“Yes.”
“I heard he made a name for himself with the ladies,” Roland said with a sly smile.
“So they say.”
Not really wanting to talk about Gabe’s past, whatever it might or might not include, she thanked Roland, paid him for his time and wished him a merry Christmas.
She was cleaning up the examination room when her father rolled to the doorway, where he sat watching her with an unreadable expression in his eyes. “Did I miss anything?”
“You did a splendid job, Rachel. You should know by now that you’re a fine doctor, and I’m very proud of you.”
Proud of her. She turned away so he wouldn’t see the tears that sprang into her eyes. How could he be proud of her after the humiliation and disgrace she’d brought to him and to the family name?
“Thank you,” she murmured, knowing she had to reply. With her emotions and her features under control, she said, “He should sleep for a while. If you don’t mind keeping an eye on him for an hour or so, I think I’ll try to do the same.”
Edward nodded. “If he needs you, I’ll call.”
“He won’t,” she retorted. “People like him don’t need anyone.”
* * *
Lying in her tousled bed, her forearm covering her eyes in a futile attempt to block the memories sweeping over her, Rachel gave a soft groan of anguish. She hadn’t expected to see Gabe in Simon’s wagon.
Indeed, since he hadn’t been back to Wolf Creek since leaving, she’d begun to think she’d never again set eyes on him. Being confronted with his very real presence had rekindled the feelings she’d experienced when he’d walked away from her without a second thought.
Shame suffused her. Because she’d been fool enough to discount the stories she’d heard about him, because he’d been sweet and made her laugh, and listened to her, she had made the biggest mistake of her life.
She was a self-sufficient woman who had gone alone to a big city and challenged tradition by daring to go into in a field dominated by men. She came from a loving home and had a solid Christian background. She should have known better than to let him into her heart, but she had been so lonely and homesick, and he brought back memories of easier, happier times. He made her feel smart and special and important.
She’d fallen in love with him. Believing that he loved her in return, she had indulged in her forbidden longings and given him everything his kisses demanded.
Three weeks later, he’d left her with nothing but a note for goodbye, a bleeding, aching heart and three weeks of memories that seemed sordid in light of his defection. She had faced the truth: Gabe Gentry was everything the gossips said he was and more. A liar, a cheat and a womanizer. Oh, certainly he was fun, friendly and he listened. And he used each and every one of those traits she’d been so enamored of against her. Sheltered and innocent, she hadn’t stood a chance. He’d worked at breaching her defenses until she’d given up and given in.
Like Eve, she’d been lured from the straight path. Overnight, Gabe went from being funny and charming to a handsome rogue endowed with more skill and cunning than any man she’d ever met.
She’d found out the hard way the lessons her parents had tried to instill in her. Sin was so tempting because it came wrapped in such an attractive, alluring package, all tied up with the subtle lie that it was not wrong, that it was all right...really.
Realizing how easily he’d deceived her set her to crying so hard and heavily she’d feared the tears would never stop. Eventually anger replaced her sorrow, anger that burned so hotly that it dried her tears. Anger at Gabe. Anger at herself.
She’d moved through the days, more alone and miserable than before, barely able to concentrate on her schooling. Unable to eat, she’d grown so thin and hollow-eyed that Mrs. Abernathy had urged her to see a physician.
“I regret to inform you that you’re
