Wolf Creek Homecoming. Penny Richards
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She must have spoken, because the doctor stood.
“All I can tell you, Miss Stone, is that you are not the first young lady foolish enough to believe a man’s lies. I can just hope that you are not so imprudent as to make the mistake a second time.”
“B-but what am I going to do? My family...” She paused and swallowed hard.
“Will be devastated, I’m sure,” he’d told her, offering her not one iota of help or comfort. “Now, you should try to get as much rest as possible, and eat three healthy meals a day.”
She thought she might upchuck at the idea of eating three meals a day. “But I’m so sick, I can’t hold anything down.”
“Tut-tut!” he’d said, looking at her as if she were a strange organism under a microscope’s lens. “My wife was never sick a day during her confinements. I can assure you that you will not rid yourself of this child by vomiting it up. I strongly suggest that you accept your situation and start preparing for some significant changes to your life.”
She’d left his office vacillating between despair and fury. The man’s bedside manner was nonexistent! He was so uncaring he had no right to hang out his shingle. He was right about one thing, though. She had been very foolish. She’d thrown away her good name, turned her back on a lifetime of teaching and jeopardized her soul. All for three weeks of feeling cherished and loved by a man who’d lied to her about his feelings. Lied to her about everything.
A baby was to be her punishment for loving him.
Ever practical, she supposed it was no more than she deserved. Well, so be it. She pushed aside the panic nibbling at the edges of her composure. Despite her lapses in judgment, she was smart and possessed plenty of grit. She was handling medical school, and she could handle this, too—somehow.
She sat down with pen and paper and considered her options. The doctor had been right when he’d said her parents would be devastated and ashamed of her actions if they found out what she’d done, so she would take measures to see that they didn’t find out. That meant returning to Wolf Creek or asking for help from them was out of the question. She couldn’t afford to bring up a child and continue with her studies. The small allowance her father sent for her upkeep barely stretched from one month to the next.
Her only recourse was to have the child and put it up for adoption. Only then could she go home and try to put the whole thing behind her. The next months would be torture as she faced the stares and snide smirks she knew she’d receive from her fellow classmates, but it still seemed her best option.
She soon learned that life seldom went as planned. She was in the final month of her pregnancy when Sarah VanSickle, the biggest gossip in Pike County, happened to be visiting her sister in St. Louis and decided to pay Rachel an impromptu visit.
Rachel could still picture the jubilation in Sarah’s eyes as she’d swept her up and down with a knowing eye. The loathsome woman had wasted no time scurrying home to recount the news to not only Rachel’s parents, but everyone else in town.
It was little wonder that she gave birth to a baby boy the very day her father arrived to confront her about the rumors. Seeing the anguish in his eyes, knowing how deeply she’d disappointed him, she vowed that no amount of persuasion could tempt her to tell him who had fathered her child.
Though he was heartbroken over her actions, Edward Stone was as stubborn as his daughter. From the moment the baby was born, he began to campaign for her to keep him.
After two days of reasoning that sometimes bordered on outright coercion, she’d agreed. She and the son she named Daniel had stayed in St. Louis until she received her medical degree, something made possible when Edward upped his monthly stipend and arranged for Mrs. Abernathy to keep Danny while Rachel was in class. Only then was she forced to summon the courage to go back home and face the music.
Since Sarah had blabbed the news all over town, there was no way Rachel could pretend she’d married while she was away, and even if that had been an option, she wouldn’t have added lying to her sins. Instead, with her well-respected father at her side, she’d brazened out the whispers and cold shoulders with the same determination and dedication that had seen her through her schooling.
A week after arriving home, her mother died, and Rachel always felt at fault. A short time later, she’d found the courage to go back to church and seek God’s forgiveness.
Since then, she had worked alongside her father trying to earn back the respect and goodwill of the townsfolk. When Edward suffered a stroke two years ago, she’d taken on the bulk of his practice. Though there were a few who still regarded her as a fallen woman, for the most part she’d been restored into the town’s good graces.
To this day no one—not even her father—knew the identity of Danny’s father.
Now that man lay in her downstairs bedroom and there was nowhere to run from her past. She’d always believed God had a plan, that things happened for a reason and that He was in control. When Gabe had walked out on her after taking her innocence, she’d wondered what the Lord could possibly have been thinking by bringing them together. Now she wondered what on earth He could possibly have in mind by doing it again.
* * *
That afternoon, still weary and upset, Rachel decided that since sickness and accidents seemed to be taking a holiday, she would take her mind off of what she’d begun to think of as the situation and bake oatmeal cookies with Danny.
She knew she should drive out and tell Caleb his brother was back and seriously injured, but she didn’t want to talk about Gabe Gentry, didn’t want to waste one single moment even thinking about him. Therein lay the problem. All she’d done since she’d recognized him on the gurney was think about him.
She was reaching for a tea towel to take a batch of cookies from the oven when Danny asked, “Do you know that man, Mama?”
Rachel paused, halfway to the stove. Take a deep breath and answer him. After all, he was only exhibiting the natural curiosity of an eight-year-old.
“I knew him a long time ago,” she said, choosing her words with care. “But not very well, it seems.” It was the truth, after all.
“Pops said he’s Mr. Gentry’s younger brother.”
“That’s right.” One by one she lifted the hot cookies onto a stoneware platter with the egg turner. Mercifully, before Danny could ask another question, she heard someone knocking. Her father was dozing in his favorite chair, so there was no need to stop. He’d answer the door.
She heard the rumble of masculine voices, and in a matter of minutes Caleb entered the kitchen. “Caleb!” she said, surprised to see him.
“Edward told me it’s true,” he said, twisting his hat in his big work-roughened hands. His unusual silvery eyes were a dark, stormy gray.
“Yes.” Rachel gestured toward a chair at the table. “Have a seat. I’m sorry I didn’t come out and tell you, but it was a long morning, and I took a little rest.”
“No