Texas Christmas Page 4

  Gabby suddenly wanted to know what she made him think. Did he wonder what it would be like to let their lips brush, to touch, taste each other? Because that was exactly what her mind was doing at the moment, and she was finding it incredibly disconcerting.

  Slowly, cautiously, he pulled back, but not very far. Outside it had begun to grow dark, but neither of them had noticed. In the light of dusk, his face seemed to glow in the various hues of color, and she raised one of her hands to his cheek, just as he had one on hers.

  “We shouldn’t...” she whispered.

  “We can’t...”

  She responded by turning more fully in his embrace and slid her other hand up his neck and into his hair, thrilled at the feel of his strong arms around her supporting her, protecting her, comforting her. And, yet, deep in her heart she knew it was wrong. She needed to step away from him. But her feet wouldn’t allow her to move.

  “You truly are a vixen,” he mused.

  “I’m not sure that I like that title. What should I call you?”

  “A fool,” he said softly and began to pull away from her. “I’m sorry, Gabby. I took advantage of you. I took advantage of the situation. You are an incredibly beautiful woman, and I—”

  “Are you truly sorry for what just happened between us? A fleeting moment where a kind stranger offered his warmth and strength? Because I’m not sorry in the least. I enjoyed every moment of it. I don’t know if that makes me a strumpet or not, but I did. Go ahead and feel sorry. But I will remember this moment fondly.”

  She turned her back on him and began to fumble around to light the lanterns in the room so she could finish the decorations. She heard his boots as he exited the room and she hastily wiped away the lone tear that rolled down her cheek.

  Chapter Four

  The house was silent. Everyone had already gone to bed except Gabby. She had to finish making the garland or they wouldn’t get it out to decorate the house soon enough. The posada would begin the very next night, and their home had to look perfect, even though it wasn’t hosting the first night of the festivities.

  She was finishing an intricate wreath when overwhelming exhaustion fell upon her. Four days of hard travel had taken its toll on her, and then to run non-stop from the moment she had arrived was just too much for her to handle. But she would persevere. She always did.

  Mentally shaking herself she turned her attention back to the wreath and realized it was complete. She looked around the table and realized she had made all of the garland and decorations that were needed for the men to put up immediately on the doors and windows. The hardest part of the decorating was over.

  Her legs and arms and back protested as she stood and tried to stretch. She was so very tired. The cot in the basement seemed a luxury at the moment, and she couldn’t wait to get to it.

  “Why are you still awake?” The deep voice behind her startled her and she turned to see Luke, his jacket gone and in a thin shirt and pants she would never have imagined a doctor from London to wear. They reminded her of the buckskin pants that Serena had a fondness for. But he filled them out far better than Serena ever could.

  Flustered, she turned away from him. “I’ve actually just finished and am about to go to bed. I’m sorry—did I wake you with the noise I was making in here?”

  “No, my mind had enough to keep it preoccupied and me awake. One of those things that kept me awake is you.”

  Even in her exhausted state, her heart pounded harder. Was he still sorry for their innocent, though intimate, embrace earlier? Was he still regretting what he had done? She knew she was plain, and she knew there was a reason she was a nineteen-year-old unwed woman. Men simply didn’t see any hope where she was concerned. She lacked beauty, was too stubborn, and could handle many of the things that men could, which made them feel worthless. She understood why he had turned from her. But she didn’t need him to rub salt in the wound.

  “If you are expecting forgiveness for the embrace, you’ve come to the wrong woman. I don’t do anything that I don’t want to do. And that means I wanted to touch you. Take your regret elsewhere. I won’t tell anyone what happened, so you needn’t feel obligated to me in any way.”

  She turned to blow out one of the lamps and the room spun briefly. She reached for the table for stability. Instead strong, warm, comforting masculine arms were around her, lifting her off of her feet and causing the room to spin even more.

  “L—Luke, what are you doing?” she asked in a quivering voice as he lifted her in his arms, holding her tight against his chest.

  “Taking care of you,” he mumbled as he blew out the lamps in the room, then moved to the couch, where he settled her down, draping a blanket over her before he went to work on her shoes.

  With both Angie and Serena staying for Christmas, the house was overflowing. That’s why Gabby hadn’t complained too much about the cellar. It would at least be quiet and semi-spacious. But she hadn’t planned to sleep on the couch.

  “Luke, what are you doing?” she asked again, though the cushions of the couch seemed to be absorbing her.

  “I already answered that, if you remember. I’m taking care of you.” He pulled each of her boots off and she sighed heavily as he rubbed her feet gently, warming them before sliding them back under the covers.

  She was half asleep as she watched him settle in a chair nearby, pulling another blanket over him. Without thinking about it, she reached out her hand and grasped one of his, and he held her fingers gently, yet firmly, letting her know he was there with her and wasn’t going anywhere.

  “How long did you travel to get here?” he asked softly.

  “It w-was about four days. We made r-really good t-time.” She was beginning to shiver now that her body was no longer moving and the cold was causing her to stutter through her words.

  He frowned and shifted, sitting beside her on the couch and vigorously rubbing her shoulders and her back, generating warmth. Gabby almost sighed contentedly at the feeling.

  “Hmm.” The sound reverberated against her and she smiled through her trembles, enjoying the moment. “Did you get much rest on the journey?”

  “Some. It’s always a little difficult sleeping out on the ground. You have to sleep with one eye open in case you’re ambushed. It happens too often out here.”

  “I’m familiar with the feeling,” he said, almost under his breath. Then: “Where were you coming from?”

  “Corpus Christi.”

  “Where is that?”

  She chuckled as she snuggled down deeper into the couch. “You need to study a map if you want to have any hope of living in Texas. Corpus is South of here. We are near the bay so we receive a lot of freight and goods to be sold all across Texas. Even to the States.”

  She felt more relaxed than she had in days. And she never wanted the slight embrace to end. She tilted her head back and looked into his mysterious blue eyes. “Why are you taking care of me?” Her shivers were starting to ease. “I’m the one who’s supposed to take care of people. No one is supposed to take care of me.”

  “That doesn’t sound very fair,” he said softly, his hand reaching up to smooth her hair back from her face. It seemed to be a subconscious touch, and was completely harmless. But it created a flutter low in her stomach and made her breath catch in her throat.

  “I’m the healer. That’s how I’m supposed to be.”

  “Hmm. So the healer takes care of the health of everyone, spends hours in the market helping her family get ready for Christmas, and stays up until the oil is almost gone from the lantern working on decorations? That sounds like an awful lot to expect from a healer.”

  “Maybe I’m just a unique healer,” she said, smiling slightly.

  “You’re unique, I’ll give you that.” His eyes roved over her face and there was a tenderness in his expression. “Get some sleep, Vixen. Get some sleep.”

  He didn’t want the warmth to go away. Or the sweet smell of lilac and something woodsy. Oddly enough, the
two aromas complemented each other and he felt like he was back home, walking the road to get away from all that haunted him. To escape for a few blissful hours and pretend he didn’t have to return to the life that he had created for himself.

  He felt comfort, and solace, and joy. And then that warmth began to move, and he felt something quite different. It was a woman he held in his arms, and her curves fit against him perfectly. Barely awake, his hands threaded through her hair and the scent of lilacs became even stronger.

  “Luke,” a feminine voice murmured sleepily. He was slowly beginning to wake up, a smile on his face. Until he opened his eyes and saw Gabby. He nearly fell off the couch. Somehow, during the night, he must have stretched out alongside her, and now they lay face to face, snuggled up together, keeping each other warm.

  “Vixen, wake up,” he whispered gently, pulling away from her, even though every fiber of his being wanted to be closer to her. He didn’t understand the emotions running through him as he looked at the sweet slumbering woman, but didn’t want to examine the feelings. Not while he held her close and warm to him.

  “Hmm.” She made the soft sound, seeking the warmth that had just left her, and her hands landed on his chest. Her eyes flew open. “Luke!”

  “Shh! Are you daft? You’re going to wake up your whole family!”

  “As much as I adore your accent, it is very hard to understand you this early in the morning.”

  “You adore my accent?” He was momentarily distracted.

  “Doctor Davenport, how did this happen? I don’t remember—”

  “You were exhausted and freezing last night. I simply meant to get you comfortable and warm. I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman to leave you in such a condition.”

  “That doesn’t quite explain how you ended up on this couch with me like this!” she whispered loudly.

  He watched her for several seconds as he gnawed on his inner cheek, having trouble with the thoughts tumbling around in his mind. Having Gabby in his arms had chased away the demons that haunted him at night. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept so soundly.

  “What is this?” Abuelo’s voice suddenly cut through the air, and the expression on Gabby’s face would have been comical if he, too, wasn’t suddenly feeling apprehensive.

  He looked up slowly and saw the glare of the lamplight first before the angry glare of Gabby’s grandfather. Before he could gain his feet, Gabby turned, and the blankets yanked from underneath him, causing him to tumble disgracefully to the floor.

  “Young man, what is the meaning of this?”

  “Abuelo—”

  “Gabby, let me—” Luke attempted to stop her.

  “—it is completely innocent. We fell asleep after working on the decorations—”

  “Gabriella, I didn’t ask you.”

  Abuelo’s eyes were still fixated on Luke, who had been wondering how to gently tell Gabby to keep her mouth shut and that he could defend them. “It was a poor choice, sir. My sincere apologies. I can assure you, though, there were no improprieties...”

  Her grandfather’s eye ticked. “Go freshen yourself, Gabby. Luke, I expect to see you outside shortly.”

  Luke extended a hand to Gabby, and her eyes searched his face with curiosity, and the hint of an apology. He helped her to her feet and even lifted the door to the cellar for her to climb down, all under the watchful eyes of her abuelo. Once he lowered the door he stood to face the old man.

  “You freshen up, too. Then come meet me outside.”

  Luke did his best to keep his face calm. “Yes, sir.” He nodded. Only a couple of weeks in America and he may have just earned a death sentence.

  Raphael’s face was almost purple with fury when Luke finally went outside. He could tell that somehow Abuelo had revealed to him what had happened, and he was fighting mad about it. Even in the cold weather he had removed his jacket and was pacing back and forth in front of the pit while the other male family members tried to calm him down.

  Luke wasn’t worried about Raphael. He’d beaten men twice his size in London and only had a few bruises at the end of it all. But he didn’t want to beat down Raphael. He was Gabby’s brother, and it would hurt her to see or know such a thing had happened. But as he came down the steps, there was one thing he suddenly realized he needed to be very afraid of.

  Gabby’s grandfather sat in one of the chairs, polishing one of his shotguns. As Luke’s feet hit the ground, he opened the chambers and loaded, then cocked it and kept it across his lap. Slowly his eyes lifted to Luke’s. “Go get your horse, son. Mine, too. We need to do a bit of hunting this morning.”

  Raphael stopped in his tracks and glared at Luke as he passed by, clenching and unclenching his fists. But Luke ignored him and instead focused on going to get the horses saddled and ready. Hunting? At this hour in the morning? Or is the old man just planning to kill me?

  In a shorter amount of time than Luke would have liked, the horses were ready and Grandpa Torres and he were riding away from town. Luke desperately wanted to ask what they were hunting for, but felt, at the moment, it was best for him to keep his mouth shut. He had just been found asleep on the couch with the man’s granddaughter. And this man was as strict about following the rules of propriety and traditions as he was about his religion. Luke swallowed hard and tried to focus on their path in case he needed to crawl back later.

  The only sound was the creaking of the cold leather and the groan of the icy tree limbs above them. Occasionally the sound of wind blowing through the branches and dry grass would whisper at his ear, but other than that, silence.

  “The conditions are perfect.”

  Luke almost jumped out of the saddle when the old man spoke, and he tried to calm his nerves. “Perfect for what, sir?”

  “A fresh kill.”

  Luke wanted to find a church. He wanted to confess all of his sins so he could go to heaven, given that he was about to die. He cleared his throat slightly and shifted in the saddle, but didn’t say anything. “Ah. Sounds—invigorating. I don’t have much experience with killi—I mean hunting.”

  The old man grunted. “Don’t you hunt over in England? You must in order to have food.”

  Luke cleared his throat again. “I’m sure they do, sir. I lived in a large city. We didn’t hunt there.” At least not the type of hunting that involved an animal to feed a family. No, there was a far different kind of hunting that went on in the slums of London.

  “You strike me as the type that would be quite a good hunter,” the old man said, then casually pulled a pipe out of his coat pocket and prepared the tobacco in it.

  “Won’t the scent drive away the game you are trying to catch?” Luke asked, before realizing it would be best not to judge the expert, especially when the expert held a loaded gun across his lap and already had at least one reason to see him dead.

  “See, I knew you would have a knack for it,” he said as he carefully lit the pipe, drawing deep on it, and the sweet-sour smell filled the air around them. “But you see, son, we’re downwind of any animal right now. They won’t be able to smell us. That’s your first lesson.”

  Lesson? Was this old man really going to teach him how to hunt? Or was he just leading him on until he was ready to finally get it over with? Luke tilted his head to the side and felt the muscles in his neck pop from stress. God, help me.

  “What exactly is it that we are hunting today?” Luke asked hesitantly, watching the old man’s face closely.

  There was an odd sound, a raspy, almost wheezing sound and Luke suddenly realized it was the old man laughing. He turned and looked at Luke with eyes that had seen more and experienced more than Luke probably ever would. “You should have seen the look on your face when you saw me with my gun.” He laughed a little harder, pulling his pipe out of his mouth momentarily, then putting it back so he could puff on it.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t quite understand...”

  “Of course you don’t understand!” He chuckled
some more. “Now, son, I’ve got to be serious with you. I wasn’t all that happy to find my granddaughter lying on a couch with you this morning. No, it didn’t please me at all. But—” he paused for a long minute, taking several puffs on his pipe “—I trust my granddaughter. And when she tells us that it was innocent, I believe her.”

  Luke felt the vise on his heart begin to loosen slightly. But only slightly. Because the old man still held his gun across his lap and hadn’t told him what they were hunting today.

  “Today, young man, we’re going to go hunting for some wisdom. It’s not an easy thing to find, and it will take you years to get most of it figured out. But, you’re new here. And it’s going to take a lot of wisdom for you to survive Texas. So I think today is a good day to get started. What do you say?”

  “Yes, sir, of course.”

  “And enough of that ‘sir’ crap. Makes me feel old. My name is Tomas. Remember it. Say it when you really need to talk to me. Otherwise, just give me food and good drink, and I’ll be happy and I won’t bother you.”

  “Sir—Tomas, why have you decided I’m worthy of your wisdom? I am very honored, but I’m not one of your children; I’m not part of your family.”

  “The term family isn’t always about blood. You know that, don’t you?”

  Visions of London flashed through his mind and he pressed his eyes closed for several moments. His understanding of family was very different than what most people would think. Finally: “I’ve heard the term family used in many different ways before.”

  “You’re too young to carry the burdens that you do. I see it haunt you in your eyes. And it will haunt you the rest of your days. It is like an illness that must be cut out, and you can only do that by sharing it with someone else.”

  “Tomas, you don’t know me. You don’t know the things I’ve done in my past. I’m not worthy of your time, and certainly not your wisdom.”

  “Ah, humility is a good characteristic. Now, Doctor Davenport, tell me how you would treat an illness that festers and feeds on someone.”