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  Chapter Three

  Dr. Charles Straw leaned back in his chair and groaned. Nearly ten minutes had passed, and the whore still hadn’t aroused him. It wasn’t like him to take so long. Usually the entire act was over in less time than it took him to oil and comb his hair. But he had a lot on his mind this morning. Rumors had reached him that the redheaded charlatan had healed the addled McClendon boy. Impossible. The child’s brain was Swiss cheese. How could this be, and what elixir had the bitch used?

  “I don’t think this is working.” The whore impatiently huffed as she leaned back and wiped her mouth.

  “You’re not trying hard enough.” He looked her over with a sneer. She typically wore enough face paint to mask the dark circles under her eyes, but not today. Her dull brown hair was disheveled, and the front of her dress was stained. Plus, she smelled like stale, cheap wine. She’d probably come straight to his apartment after working all night in the whorehouse. He scowled, wondering if she’d had the courtesy to rinse out her mouth first.

  She shrugged. “Maybe it’s you.”

  Anger spiked his blood pressure, his pulse pounding along tightly knotted neck muscles. “Finish what I paid you to do,” he growled.

  She crossed her arms, pouting. “You haven’t paid me yet.”

  He crooked his finger at her and then pointed to his groin. “And I won’t until I’m satisfied.”

  Rolling her eyes, she spit into her hands and leaned over his flaccid member.

  Bang-bang-bang!

  The prostitute screeched and jumped to her feet as the front door shook with violet tremors.

  “Straw!” a deep, angry bellow resounded from outside. “Open up.”

  “Who’s that?” the whore hissed, wiping her hands on her skirt.

  Straw buttoned his pants and reached for the cane beside his chair. “Shhh.” He held a finger to his lips and slowly rose. “Not another damn word.”

  She jutted both hands on her hips. “Now hold on just a minute, mister….”

  He raised his cane as if to strike her. Her eyes bulged, and she went surprisingly silent.

  “Straw, I know you’re in there.” The man boomed. “I can hear your whore.”

  Straw wasted no time as he rushed toward the window. Luckily his apartment was only on the second floor, and he’d snagged a rope ladder from the docks for such an occasion. He unlatched the window and draped the ladder outside.

  “Hey!” The whore stomped a foot. “What about my money?”

  He slipped into his coat and donned his hat before nodding toward the door with a sly smile. “Get in line.”

  When she rushed toward him, he swung the cane, coming within inches of her nose. “Get back before I split that scowl of yours in half.”

  “Now you’re gonna get it!” She spun on her heel and raced to the door.

  Straw threw his hat and cane out the window, not waiting around to see what would happen next. As he descended the ladder with amazing speed, he heard her yelling to the irate creditor. “He’s headed out the window. When you catch him, I want my money.”

  Straw dropped to the ground, ignoring the pain that shot up his leg. He picked up his cane and hat and looked up to see Colin O’Leary scowling down at him.

  “You owe my boss five hundred dollars.” O’Leary shook his fist and yelled out the window.

  O’Leary, a former Confederate soldier, was built like a bull and still strong for his age. Straw had treated the brute’s knee for an old war wound and knew he wouldn’t have the ability to climb down the ladder. Straw tipped his hat to the red-faced man and casually strolled off. He’d no doubt O’Leary would search for him in the saloons and brothels, but he wouldn’t find him there. Straw had another destination in mind. It was time to pay that healer a visit.

  * * *

  After a long day making love, Gabriel was famished. He left his sleeping mate in search of food and followed the overgrown path to the sound of waves crashing on the shore, dragging the net he’d found in the barn behind him. The weave was old and caked with mud. He hoped it would hold up.

  He slipped off his shoes and walked barefoot across the hot sand, relishing the feel of it sticking to his soles. How he’d missed walking. He still couldn’t believe that in less than a day, a beautiful, flame-haired dragon princess had healed his legs, which hadn’t worked since he’d been stricken with Polio during childhood. Then, he’d been mated to that dragon princess. His life had taken a strange and wondrous turn, and he wouldn’t change it for anything, though perhaps there was one thing he would fix. He wished more than anything to see his family.

  He had to retain hope that he and Safi would see them again. He wondered how Pedro was faring after recovering from the shark attack, and how his grandfather was coping with his absence. Mostly he worried the dragon queen was making his family’s lives miserable. He hoped he hadn’t brought her wrath on their heads. Safi had assured him her mother had a kind heart. He prayed her kindness had not run thin.

  He waded into the surf, sinking into the sand as the warm water lapped at his feet. How he’d missed the mere sensation of feeling the earth mold to his feet, encompassing them like a wet glove. He trudged through the water until he was waist high, letting out a groan of satisfaction as he knelt and leaned his head back, letting the water soak his hair. If he hadn’t needed to search for food, he’d have taken a refreshing swim, but he had an entire eternity to enjoy the use of his legs. Knowing Safina’s appetite, he suspected she was hungrier than he was.

  He tossed out the net and mumbled the prayer his papi had taught him, pleading with Mother Earth to provide nourishment for himself and his mate. He couldn’t help but laugh when he pulled in the net and saw four flapping tails. He relaxed as if a huge weight had been lifted. Mother Earth was blessing their union. He only hoped that meant the dragon queen’s forgiveness would follow.

  * * *

  Abby cursed under her breath after she poked her finger once again. She supposed she deserved the pain for having neglected her needlework for so long. Her grandmother sat beside her, knitting little booties, no doubt for Charlotte’s baby. Funny, but a few days ago, Abby would have been secretly angry with Nana for doting over Charlotte and Teddy Carter’s child. Instead of resenting Charlotte for marrying Teddy, she was overcome with a strange sense of happiness she hadn’t felt since she’d dreamed of her parents when she was unconscious.

  Ever since yesterday, when that shark had attacked Pedro, Abby had been walking around the house as if in a daze. Though she was no zealot, she’d come to the conclusion Fiona and her daughter were angels, or perhaps witches or goddesses. Whatever they were, Abby knew them to be kind, and that’s all that mattered. She worried for Safi, though. Why had she and her mother had a falling out, and how had she managed to run off with Gabriel? Had Safi healed him?

  She looked over at Nana, who was engrossed in her knitting. Though Abby normally enjoyed the few moments of reprieve when Nana wasn’t scolding her or gossiping about their neighbors, the silence between them felt like a punishment.

  “Have you heard anything from Señor Cortez?” Abby knew it was a futile question. If Nana had heard anything, she would have been prattling on about it for the last half hour.

  “No.” The old woman frowned, setting her work in her lap. “Nothing yet.”

  “So you think they’ve truly eloped?”

  Nana heaved a sigh. “It appears so.”

  Abby wondered if Safi and Gabriel were okay. If so, where were they, and would they ever come back? “I hope they are happy together.”

  Nana pulled back her shoulders, the lines around her eyes deepening. “They deserve to be miserable.” She wagged a finger at Abby as if it were somehow her fault. “All that pain she’s caused her dear mother by running off and leaving her alone like that.”

  Abby swallowed hard as a wave of shame overcame her. Though Nana sometimes nagged her, Abby knew she was her Nana’s whole world. How selfish she’d been not to think of her Nana b
efore she’d jumped from the pier. “How long will Miss Fiona keep to her bed?” she asked to change the subject.

  “I’m not sure, but Señor Cortez gave her a powerful sleeping drug, and he says we are not to wake her,” she said sternly, as if she was expecting Abby to disobey her. The lines around her drawn mouth softened as she nodded toward the embroidery in Abby’s hands. “I haven’t seen you practice your needlework in a long while. What are you making, dearest?”

  Abby made a face at the sloppy stitching of pink flowers. “A picture for Charlotte’s baby.”

  “Oh, Abby, that’s wonderful.” Nana clasped her hands together, beaming. “You are such a kind friend to Charlotte.”

  Abby hung her head. Those words of undeserving praise stung far worse than had Nana told the truth. Abby was ashamed of how she’d treated Charlotte—how she’d treated everyone. “No, I’m not. At least, I haven’t been, but I plan on being a better friend now.”

  Nana set her work on a nearby table and heaved herself out of the chair. She sat next to Abby on the sofa, draping a heavy arm across her shoulders. “What brought on this change of heart?”

  Abby pulled away from her grandmother, scooting to the other end of the sofa, for she deserved a hug even less than she deserved praise. She looked at her Nana through a sheen of tears, hardly aware she was crying. “I wasn’t far from Pedro when he was attacked. That shark swam right past me. I swear, when his tail grazed my leg, my life flashed before my eyes a second time.” She paused, looking at her hands fisted in her lap, for she hadn’t the nerve to look Nana in the eyes. “The first time was when I jumped from the pier.”

  “Jumped?” Nana gasped. “I-I thought you fell.”

  Abby forced herself to meet the older woman’s eyes. “No, Nana. I jumped because I was heartbroken over Theodore Carter.”

  Nana’s hands flew to her flushed cheeks. “Oh, merciful heavens!”

  Even though Abby was ashamed of her actions, her admission freed a burden that had been weighing down her soul. It was true. She’d been heartbroken over Theodore Carter, and fool that she was, she’d tried to take her own life because of it. Even though her throat tightened with emotion, she forced herself to continue, for she knew her soul needed to be purged if she was to start anew.

  “The first time my life flashed before me I saw only the bad things, like when I lost mama and papa, and the day Charlotte married Teddy.” She looked away, unable to withstand her grandmother’s heavy stare for long. “The second time I saw you rocking me in my cradle and singing me to sleep, I tasted your homemade pie, and I felt your hugs and kisses.” Her gaze flicked back to her grandmother, whose cheeks were now damp with tears. “I also saw what my life could be like.” She twisted her hands in her lap, gnawing on her lower lip. “I could fall in love with someone else, or maybe I could travel with Clara Barton and the Red Cross, helping those in need. There are so many things I can do with my life.” She swallowed a lump, forcing herself to press onward. “But I refuse to spend the rest of my future lamenting the past and hating my poor friend for falling in love, too.”

  Nana scooted closer, clasping Abby’s small hands in a clammy, heavy grip. “That is very honorable of you, dearest.” She flashed a wide smile. “I knew you had a heart of gold.”

  Abby vehemently shook her head. “I don’t, Nana. I have behaved like a selfish, spoiled brat, and I’m sorry.”

  Nana cupped Abby’s chin, lifting it until their gazes locked. “You are growing into a fine young woman. Whatever you do in life, I know you will do it well.” Her lips tilted in a rueful smile. “I’ve never known you to give half-measures.”

  Abby couldn’t help but laugh at that, and soon Nana was laughing, too. Their eyes were watering so hard, Abby didn’t know when the crying stopped and the laughter began.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Nana jumped, her hand flying to her chest as she looked at the rattling front door. “Who could that be?”

  Abby leaned forward. “Perhaps Señor Cortez with news.”

  Nana’s eyes bulged before she raced for the door and threw it open.

  Abby’s surprise turned to disappointment, and her disappointment turned to anger when she saw Dr. Charles Straw.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Jenkens.” He bowed low before Nana, his hat nearly tumbling from his head. “You are looking as lovely as ever. What a glow you have to your cheeks. You must be enjoying this fine weather.”

  Nana raised a hand to her face and blushed. “Why thank you, Dr. Straw, but I always wear a hat when I’m out of doors.”

  “Ahhh.” He stepped inside the threshold, smiling that wicked smile Abby had come to loathe. “Then your glow is natural, which makes it even more stunning.” He shoved his hat in Nana’s hands and pushed his way past her.

  She gasped and spun around but said nothing, standing rooted to the spot as if she were a statue.

  He looked over the small parlor with a scowl, as if he found the room distasteful. “I have come to call on your healer.”

  Nana walked a wide circle around him, her mouth agape. “She’s sleeping.”

  His thin moustache twitched as he frowned at Nana. “Nonsense. It’s the middle of the day.”

  “I know, but she exhausted herself healing patients. You must come back another day,” Nana pleaded, sounding more exasperated than authoritative as she held his hat out to him.

  Abby slowly rose to her feet, knowing her Nana would need help if she were to wage a battle with the devil doctor. Abby had never trusted the serpentine gleam in the man’s eyes, and she trusted him even less after he’d forcibly entered her Nana’s home.

  Dr. Straw pushed Nana aside with his cane. “Wake her. We have pressing business to discuss.” He pointed the tip of his cane at the stairwell. “Or you can tell me where to find her, and I’ll do it. Which room is hers?”

  Nana pursed her lips and vehemently shook her head. “I can’t tell you.”

  He turned up his long nose, nostrils flaring. “I beg your pardon?”

  Nana clutched the doctor’s hat with whitened knuckles. “I have specific orders not to wake her.”

  Dr. Straw advanced, bearing down on Nana with a look that reminded Abby of a wild animal stalking his prey. “And I am giving you specific orders to wake her.”

  Nana backed up. “B-but….”

  “But nothing.” He banged his cane on the wood floor, the sound ricocheting across the walls. “Now be a good woman and fetch her for me.”

  Abby crossed to them, pushing in front of Nana as she turned up her chin. “Did you hear what my Nana said?”

  The doctor pasted on a wide smile, one Abby could tell was forced. “Abby, I can’t tell you how relieved I am to see you are well.” His tone dripped with fake sincerity, flowery words with hidden thorns.

  Abby ripped the hat out of Nana’s hands, marched past Dr. Straw, and threw open the door. She tossed his hat outside, watching with satisfaction as it rolled down the steps. She looked at the man, whose cheeks were so inflamed, they appeared to be on fire.

  “Oh, I do apologize.” She spoke through clenched teeth while flashing a smile. “It appears I’ve tossed your hat out by accident, Dr. Straw. Be a good man and go get it.”

  Abby’s heartrate quickened when he clutched his cane with both hands as if it were a baseball bat.

  “I’m not leaving until I speak to the healer.” His voice was a low, dark rumble.

  “Dearest,” Nana squeaked. “Maybe you should let the doctor….”

  Abby held up a silencing hand. “Nana, let me handle this.” She pulled back her shoulders, doing her best to quell her shaking limbs. “Moses!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

  Dr. Straw paled when their servant, Moses, as tall as the doctor but twice his girth, rushed into the room through the kitchen’s swinging door.

  “Yes, Miss Abby?” the servant asked, but even before Abby could answer, Moses’s hands curled into fists as he narrowed his eyes at their visitor.

  �
�Oh my,” Nana exclaimed before falling into a nearby chair.

  Abby pointed at Dr. Straw. “This man has barged into our home and refuses to leave. Kindly show him the way out.”

  Dr. Straw backed toward the door. “Is this any way to treat your physician?”

  Abby stood on her toes, poking his chest, feeling a renewed sense of bravery with Moses at her back. “You’re not my physician. And from what I hear, you’re not a physician to anyone anymore.”

  His lip curled up in a snarl. “You are mistaken, girly.”

  Abby arched back and fanned her face as a disgustingly sweet smell overwhelmed her senses. “You smell like cheap perfume. Go back to the hole you crawled out of.” With a hard shove, she pushed him over the threshold and slammed the door in his face.

  Moses chuckled, “Good ’un, Miss Abby.”

  Nana rushed to Abby’s side, wringing her hands. “Oh, Abby, what have you done?”

  Abby turned to her grandmother, clutching the old woman’s shoulders. “Nana, Miss Fiona saved my life and the lives of many others. That man means her harm. I can see it in his eyes. He’s not allowed back in this house. Do you understand?”

  Nana swallowed hard, the veins in her neck popping out like swollen tributaries. “Y-yes.” She looked up at Moses, and they shared knowing grins. “Just like I said, a fine young woman.”

  Chapter Four

  Gabriel walked toward his new home with a spring in his step. Safi would be pleased with his catch. Earlier that day he’d spied an overgrown garden beside the house. Perhaps they could dig up some roots to roast and use a few herbs to season their meal.

  He was not surprised to see Safi wasn’t lying on the floor where he’d last left her. He closed his eyes and followed that invisible cord tethering him to his mate, visualizing her upstairs in the last room.

  He set his catch in the kitchen tub and walked back into the foyer, climbing the steps two at a time. His heart sank when he reached the end of the hallway, for he could hear Safi’s muffled cries coming from the other side of the door. He rushed inside to find her sitting on the four-poster bed, her eyes wet and swollen, and her face blotchy.