The Wanderer Page 3

  “No, its not that.” Jude blushed, but then he looked up, meeting Gabriels frank gaze. “Arent you ever afraid of what will happen if people find out what you are?”

  “People have found out.” Gabriels face hardened as he touched the scar on his hip. “But I found a satisfying solution to the dilemma.”

  Jude blinked. “What solution?”

  “I shoot any man who calls me out for being…obscenity.”

  Judes eyes widened. Somehow he didnt think Gabriel was exaggerating. He swallowed. “Im a healer; I could never do that.”

  Gabriel stepped back suddenly, giving him more room. His eyes had a seasoned kind of tenderness, the tenderness of a man who has been brutal on occasion, but from necessity and not because he enjoyed it. “I know you cant, Jude.”

  Jude avoided his gaze. “Ill see if the housekeeper can bring you something to eat.”

  “Jude.” Gabriels voice was gentle.

  Jude looked over his shoulder at his patient from the safety of the doorway.

  “I cant just stay here.”

  “I thought we agreed—” Judes mouth tightened as he dug up fresh arguments. He was not going to let this man die. For some reason, he felt fiercely protective of him, which was foolish considering that Gabriel seemed very much a formidable warrior.

  “No, I mean…” Gabriel ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair. “I must compensate you for your care.”

  “Oh. Well, people usually pay me what they can.” Jude shrugged.

  “In chickens and sides of beef, I imagine,” Gabriel observed, a smile lighting his dark eyes.

  “Yes,” Jude admitted, answering Gabriels smile with a shy one of his own before quitting the room.

  * * *

  “Doc Jude wont be happy you left the clinic!” Mouse said, following Gabriel as he strode slowly down the dusty road in Sylvan, the reins of his pack mule, Millie, clenched in one fist.

  Gabriel touched the scabbard for his long knife that rode over his deerskin coat. He had an itchy spot between his shoulder blades, but his lips quirked as he tousled the boys hair. “Jude is a little bossy, just as you are curious.”

  “I, uh, touched some of the stuff you left near your saddlebags in Doc Judes clinic.” Mouse paused, hanging his head a little as if afraid hed anger Gabriel with his inquisitiveness.

  Gabriel shrugged. “I understand; its no different from a fellow merely looking at my possessions. You make use of your hands in place of your eyes.”

  Mouses face brightened. “I was careful not to handle your guns.”

  “That was wise.” Gabriel gripped Mouses slender shoulder. “I wish Id never touched them.”

  Mouse chewed his lip, obviously full of questions, but theyd arrived at Gabriels destination. The shingle outside the storefront had the words Sylvan Bank painted on it, and inside, through the window, Gabriel could see a clerk bent over sheets of paper, busy working.

  “Wait here,” he told Mouse, tying Millie and then removing the heavy saddlebag with which she was burdened.

  As he stepped inside the building, his gaze caught a man leaning against the wall of the barbershop, hand smoothing his chin. He was studying Gabriel with narrowed eyes.

  He was one of the men who had been with David Smith the night Smith used his belt on Mouse.

  Gabriel paused inside the room, dim after the bright sun.

  “Yessir?” the young clerk said, standing up to attend to Gabriel, his eyes running over him avidly, no doubt fueled by the gossip that Gabriel had stirred it up with Smith and his boys.

  Without speaking, Gabriel pulled out one heavy, irregular chunk of rock with spider veins of gold running through it.

  “Oh my!” the man exclaimed. “You struck gold?”

  Gabriel shook his head, face shuttered. “No, only found one rock. How much for it?”

  After studying the bounty, the clerk paid him sixty dollars.

  “Sign our register,” the man said, pushing a ledger toward Gabriel. “So youre staying with Doc Jude?”

  Gabriel took the offered pen, freshly wetted in ink, and scrawled his signature, still the elegant loops hed practiced as a young man. He remembered being told hed have to write beautiful letters to his mistresses. It was another life, one hed been supremely ill suited to live.

  “Yes,” Gabriel said, leveling a cool look at the clerk.

  “That might not be very healthy for Jude,” the man said, swallowing thickly under Gabriels gaze. “Once youre gone…well, he has to live in this town, and David Smith took your interference kind of personal.”

  Gabriel kept his expression calm, but he felt a chilly finger touch him. “The doctor has helped a lot of the people in this town.”

  “Yeah, but folks…” The clerk pushed back his haystack of blond, sweaty hair, staring at Gabriel through his spectacles. “They mostly go along with what Smith says. The doc… Hes a good man and all, but hes different.”

  Gabriel nodded curtly, understanding.

  “What did you do in there?” Mouse asked him when he returned to the street.

  Gabriel smiled and hefted the boy onto the back of his mule, steadying him, rewarded by an answering smile as Mouse adjusted. He had obviously ridden some before and enjoyed it.

  Gabriel took the reins, leading Millie back to the public stables. When he breathed, it felt like his ribs creaked, sore. He was worn-out just from this small errand.

  “I had to secure some funds to repay Jude,” he said, belatedly realizing hed left off the young doctors title.

  “Oh, you dont need to worry about that none. Doc Jude takes care of people all the time who cant pay.”

  Gabriel nodded. “But fortunately I am able to do so.”

  As he walked his mule bearing Mouse into the shadows of the livery, Gabriel saw the man whod been spying on him from the barbershop had followed and was standing outside the bank, watching him.

  * * *

  Mouse was sitting on the fence beside the general store, his face raised to bask briefly in the sunshine, when he heard someone new ride in, another stranger. He knew it was a stranger because hed just about memorized all the sounds of different horses and teamed them with the men who rode them.

  “Excuse me, sir. I wonder if I might tie my horse here for a moment?” a deep voice asked the storekeeper.

  “Tie him wherever you want, stranger. Makes no nevermind to me,” answered the voice of Ralph Bellows, the storekeep. “Anything I can get for you today?”

  “No, sir, other than some coffee for my fire. I ran out and sure do miss it. And Im looking for someone and hope you might help me find him. I heard hes been drifting in this general direction.”

  “Whats his name?”

  “Gabriel. Gabriel Fontenot.”

  “Ohhh. He got into some kind of trouble with some of the boys here in town, but then he took sick and now Doc Jude is looking after him. Probably lucky for him since Smith and his men are swearing to get even.”

  The stranger sighed. “Sick. Yes, the way he pushes himself… I might as well get some of that coffee now. A man gets to wanting it when hes sitting in front of a campfire all by his lonesome.”

  Mouse followed the man into the store, curious and a little worried for his new friend. Gabriel Fontenot had spent the last four days since his errand at the bank back at the Docs clinic, recovering quietly.

  He didnt seem to mind when Mouse spent time with him, and was even teaching him to play chess, a game Doc Jude enjoyed and Mouse had always wanted to learn. Mouse would run his fingers over the pieces, some bearing a crude b for black, and Gabriel had carved little indentations into the chessboard itself so if Mouse touched it, he could picture it mapped out now, like the town, in his mind. Black had a carved X, white nothing.

  He was full of pride over his new accomplishment. He loved finding a way to live like most folk did. He knew Doc Jude wanted that for him, but that he also fretted over Mouse up on the roofs or going into the saloon. So Mouse tried not to do too much, though h
e wanted…more. He didnt know what exactly. Just more.

  * * *

  Gabriel counted out some gold coins and then, as hed done every day, left them on his bedside table.

  Seeing that, Jude sighed. “Too much.”

  “I disagree.” Gabriel glowered at him as if trying to force him into submission. As usual, it did not work. Jude glowered back.

  Gabriels lips quirked. “You have a stubborn nature for a Northerner doctor from Boston.”

  Jude hesitated, stethoscope ready and as if guessing what he needed, Gabriel pulled his deerskin shirt over his head, leaving his skin bare and accessible.

  Jude swallowed and placed the cool disk between Gabriels nipples. He had a strange picture pop into his mind of what it might be like to suck those tight copper nubs. He growled to himself.

  “What was that, Doc?” Gabriel sounded amused.

  “I need to listen to you breathe,” Jude said. He was conscious of his hand spanning hard muscle and smooth, warm skin. “Your heart is galloping.”

  Gabriels eyes sobered. “It does that when you touch me. Jude…”

  “Mr. Fontenot—”

  “Gabriel.” Gabriels voice was husky as his bleak gaze held Judes.

  Jude pulled his stethoscope clear of his ears, dropping his gaze.

  He wanted to rub his parted lips against Gabriels skin, taste…lick. He cleared his throat, his face burning a revealing scarlet. But he did not move away. His body felt heavy, weighted, as if it were impossible to leave Gabriels orbit. He was tonguetied, eyes on the wooden floor, the only sound his heart pounding.

  Gabriel cupped his cheek, and Jude made a soft sound, leaning into the touch. Oh, God. God, help him, he was aching for touch! Touch from the right person.

  “I like to look at you,” Gabriel rumbled. His dark eyes were heated, tender. Jude knew he could give Jude what he craved.

  “I came here to atone for not being the man my family would have wished for, to care for this town…” Judes voice had dropped to a whisper. He did not want Mouse to overhear by accident. The boy had sharp ears, and there was no telling where he lurked during the day. Jude couldnt bear for the child hed raised to see him differently.

  To see him as obscenity.

  Chapter Four

  “Was there never anyone?” Gabriels voice was sympathetic. Jude allowed himself to be tugged close so he sat on the bed, wildly aware he was sitting with Gabriel, but not in the safe role of his doctor.

  “There was someone, a vaquero named Ramon. He was… He used to come visit me in town for medication for the man he worked for. Then we didnt see him back here for a long time and I knew…” Jude swallowed thickly. “I knew something had happened to him. Finally someone found the skeletons of a rider and horse just outside of town. He was such an accomplished horseman, but wed had a flood that spring.”

  Gabriel reached out, caressed the back of Judes hand.

  Steadied by Gabriels silent understanding, Jude continued softly, “From what I could make out, his horse must have fallen on him.”

  Gabriel whispered, “Im sorry, Jude.”

  Jude took a deep breath. “I have missed him all these years. I barely spoke to him. But he was…”

  “You dont have to be lonely,” Gabriel said. “Not as long as Im in town.”

  Judes lips parted. He stared into Gabriels eyes, his pulse racing.

  “I wont stay,” Gabriel warned him. “Im a wanderer, Jude. But while Im here, you could”—Gabriel swallowed, and perspiration broke out on his upper lip—“make use of me.”

  Jude felt ghost hands brush against his skin, almost as if he were in his bed with Gabriel, almost as if he was allowing the other man to touch him.

  “Id please you,” Gabriel said.

  “If I let you…how could I stay here, live in this town?” Jude asked, throat tight. “I am not a wanderer like you.”

  * * *

  “Im here to see Mr. Fontenot.” A tall, white-haired man spoke from the bottom of the stairs as Jude left Gabriels room. Jude took a deep breath, studying the stranger and relaxing as he spotted Mouse, obviously trailing the man, his head tilted as he listened.

  So he could not have heard…what had transpired between Jude and Gabriel. Jude blew out a sigh of relief.

  “I shall have to tell him who you are,” Jude said, a little reluctant to face Gabriel again so soon, before he had some time to compose himself.

  “Seamus OReilly. Just tell him Im here,” the man said, rubbing the back of his neck wearily. He looked like he hadnt even paused to eat, shave, or bathe for a while. His mouth and eyes were ringed by dust. “Ill sit in your waiting room if you dont mind.”

  * * *

  “I dont want to see him.” Gabriel was smoking, seeming cool and composed after their encounter, except that on closer inspection his fingers were trembling.

  So he was not…unaffected by whatever was between them.

  “Why not?” Jude pressed. He wanted to understand this man. He was drawn to him, raw, aching to be pressed close to hard muscle, to come alive in Gabriels arms.

  The big man ran his hands over the sheet that covered him, revealing the smooth skin, perfect as a marble sculpture—except Gabriel was made human by the thin line of hair that arrowed from his belly down to where it met the pale sheet. “That is my affair. Tell him it is best that he returns home. There is nothing for him here; the man he seeks does not exist anymore, if he ever did.”

  “He looked determined to see you. Who is he?”

  Gabriel took a deep drag, face impassive as he studied Jude. “He was my fathers valet.” He didnt offer anything else. He stared at the smoke rising from his cheroot.

  Suddenly frustrated, Jude snatched it from Gabriel and ground it out angrily on the raw, unpainted floorboards. “That will aggravate your condition! Dont smoke one of those things under my roof.”

  “I suppose that means you wont bring me a bottle of whiskey?” Gabriel asked.

  The door slammed, and Gabriel had his answer.

  “Feisty,” he whispered. He closed his eyes, his sex full and aching. He kept picturing pulling the prim doc onto the plain white bed in his clinic and spreading him open, putting his lips against Judes cock, his inner thigh.

  Gabriel groaned. “Damn.”

  * * *

  “Im sorry,” Jude said in soft defeat as he entered his waiting room. The old man leaned against the wall, fingering a dusty hat. “He wont…”

  Seamus shrugged, looking not at all surprised by Gabriels rebuff. Jude reflected that must mean Seamus knew Gabriel well, since Gabriel refused to live by polite rules. “May I sit down, Doctor? Im a mite played out.”

  “Of course!” Jude studied Seamuss face, seeing almost seventy years of hard living. “I was just about to eat. You are welcome to stay, dine with me and Mouse.”

  “Thats kind of you,” Seamus reflected. “Back East, I used to clean for men like you, fine mannered.”

  “When I became a doctor, I vowed to take care of all people in my clinic,” Jude said passionately. He took a deep breath since his idealism probably wasnt of much interest to this man. Still, he added wryly, “And sometimes I even care for the local pigs or cows.”

  “Wild Indians too?” Seamus smiled, following Jude into the small dining room, then sitting opposite his host.

  Mouse hovered at the door. Jude felt no need to invite him in. Mouse would join them when he was ready. He was shy around strangers.

  Seamus accepted a heaping plate of food from the housekeeper, smiling at her so she couldnt seem to help but smile back.

  “On occasion Ive helped Indians also, yes. Why wont Gabriel see you?” Jude prodded, still curious.

  “He doesnt want me doing for him,” Seamus said, chewing calmly on his potatoes. “Doesnt feel I owe him anything, that I should settle down in a town somewhere.” Seamus snorted at the last.

  Jude swallowed and took a chance. “Do you know how he got those scars?” he asked.

  Seamuss
mouth flattened, and he paused in his meal to run a hand through his cap of white curls, his eyes deep set and brimming with the kind of kindness that only comes from seeing a lot of the opposite. “Yes, sir, I know.” He studied Jude. “You took a liking to him, didnt you?”

  “I…” Jude shook his head. “Im his doctor.”

  “Hm.” Seamus helped himself to some stewed vegetables, put up the year before.

  “Who cut that…letter into his hip?”

  “Why, it was his daddy.”

  “My God!”

  Dark eyes studied Jude, looking into him. “You say you dont mind servants. You uncomfortable about any…other kind of people?”

  Jude shook his head, licking his lips nervously. “No. I…know what he is.”

  “Then you know part of what happened to him. Me and my boy worked for his daddy. I was his valet, and my son”—Seamus put the plate aside, his appetite obviously gone for the moment—“my son was close to Gabriel.”

  Jude couldnt help his eyes widening at the implication. He leaned forward when the older man paused, sensing he was finished sharing. “Id like to know him,” he said.

  Seamus rolled his lips, looking from Jude to Mouse, who still lurked in the doorway. “One day Gabriels daddy found them together at the old watering hole. He took Gabriel out behind the house, tied him to a tree, and whipped him. I can still hear Gabriels sobs. He werent no more than fifteen.” Seamus swallowed. “He wouldnt tell his daddy where my boy was hiding, so he…cut him.”

  Mouse came into the room and moved close to Jude. He was trembling slightly. Jude put an arm around him while Seamus sized the boy up.

  “Cant see, son?”

  Mouse dropped his head. “No, sir.”

  “Well, you seem to move around all right despite that,” Seamus noted.

  Mouse chewed his lip. “What happened to your son, the boy Mr. Fontenot was friends with?”

  Seamuss closed his eyes. “Gabriels father wanted to teach his son a lesson. Wanted to show him what happened to men who made the wrong…choices.”