Diego’s eyebrow shot up. “Extraordinary? All muscle? Not one ounce of fat? Is that what you’re referring to? I’m glad you noticed.”
Rubin groaned. “Don’t get him started.”
He sipped at the cider, but Jonquille noticed that while Diego was teasing, holding Patricia’s attention, he was watching the older woman carefully, studying the way she moved. Paying close consideration to every detail of motion of her shoulder and arm. He didn’t appear to be doing so—his legs were sprawled out in front of him, his eyes hooded. He looked casual, and she knew if she asked him, he could repeat what was being said verbatim, but he was really aware of everything about Patricia.
Jonquille realized Diego held Patricia’s attention on purpose. The two men had obviously worked together smoothly many times with the individuals living in the very rural areas of the mountains. They visited and just talked with friends, laughing and getting reacquainted, talking about the things the people loved the most. Their hobbies. Their families.
Jonquille stayed quiet and listened as the two men steered the conversation toward the winter and how difficult it had been. Patricia was cheerful at first and then a few details slipped out. Things were easier now that the boys were home with her. Still, there were a couple of mornings that she had trouble getting her arm to cooperate. She must be getting up there in age. She laughed when she said it, but Jonquille noticed the worried note in her voice and knew both men couldn’t fail to hear it as well.
Rubin’s gentler questions would be interspersed with Diego’s conversation with her. Jonquille was amazed at how much information the two men would draw out while simply visiting. They had incredible skill at knowing the exact topics to introduce, the little snippets of news about their own lives to share, a simple funny story that would draw Patricia into sharing one of her own and would lead to more data on her health in some way.
It came to light that she’d had the flu several times and hadn’t really been eating much since. Rubin had picked up on the fact that while they had shared the apple-walnut bars, she hadn’t. They’d always been her favorites, yet she hadn’t touched them. Rubin paid attention to small details. That was one of his skills. He noticed. Both men did. They applied those skills not only to their tracking and hunting but also to working with patients who might not accept normal doctors.
Jonquille was so intrigued by the way the two brothers conducted the health visit, which really seemed more like a genuine call on a beloved neighbor, that she’d been at the Sawyer home for over an hour before she realized she didn’t have a problem being around Patricia. The energy the woman was giving off, even when she was very animated, Rubin directed away from Jonquille. He did it so quietly, even as he had his attention centered on Patricia, that Jonquille hadn’t noticed. More and more, his abilities astonished her. She had a fast learning curve and she remained as quiet as she could, unless Patricia or one of the men drew her into the conversation, so she could observe.
“Mama Patricia, now that Diego has eaten everything and the boys will get home and want to beat him to a bloody pulp, I’d like to ask a favor,” Rubin said. His voice was extremely soft. Very gentle.
Jonquille recognized that small little push of persuasion in it. Nothing one could track, but it was there.
“Rubin, you do so much for us. You have only to ask.”
“Jonquille is a natural healer, the way I am and my mother was. She is learning our old ways and the medicine plants. I’ve been working with her but only on people we trust. I would like her to see how modern medicine and the old ways can work together to aid someone, but we wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.” His gaze flicked to Jonquille.
She understood immediately. “Please know I won’t be offended if you say no. I’m just learning and haven’t gotten to Rubin’s level at all yet.”
“You have to learn somewhere,” Patricia said briskly. “Rubin is family. If you’re his woman, then you’re going to be family as well. We best do this before the boys get home. Once they come, the noise will be deafening. Especially with Diego here.”
Diego flashed a grin at them. “Sure, blame me. I can start dinner for us after I take a look around, Mama Patricia.”
“I knew you were coming, Diego. I made your favorite. There’s enough for everyone. The boys will fire up the grill and throw some fish and corn on it. They’re real proud of their grillin’ these days.”
She got up, pushing off the wood arms of the rocker. This time Jonquille noticed one side was stronger than the other. Rubin picked up the tray and indicated to Jonquille to precede him into the house. She wanted to look around as she followed Patricia down a hall into a bedroom, but she’d caught on to the way Rubin and Diego worked. She was aware Diego was taking the opportunity to sweep the area around the cabin for signs of intruders. The brothers were rarely idle.
8
Jonquille forced her mind away from everything but what she was actually supposed to focus on. Rubin was giving her an unprecedented opportunity. Not only had she been close to becoming a doctor, but she had a healing gift and yearned to use it. That talent was often so strong that when she was at the laboratory and others were too near, there were times she could feel something not quite right with their bodies. The compulsion to do her best to heal them was terrifyingly intense at times, depending on the degree of the problem, yet she didn’t dare, nor did she really know how to use that talent correctly. She’d never had the opportunity to develop it.
Jonquille observed Patricia as she walked. Her gait. The way she favored one side of her body just slightly. It was almost as if she protected her right side. In fact, twice she caught her right wrist with her left, as if just having the arm swinging free bothered her, yet she’d told Rubin it didn’t hurt. No, she hadn’t actually said that in so many words, she’d just acted stoic and laughed and said she was getting up there in age.
Rubin and Diego had gently steered the conversation without seeming to do so. They talked about family and the various times of year. The winter, how difficult it was, focusing first on her sons, asking her how they had fared. What they did. What it was like having them home. They asked about her absent children. Throughout the conversation they exchanged stories with her, getting her comfortable telling little details even about herself. What happened in the fall? The spring? The summer? They didn’t ever act impatient, and had clearly come prepared to spend the rest of the day with her. Their secret, she realized, was that they were truly enjoying themselves. Jonquille wondered if that was what they did with every one of the patients in the mountains, or if Patricia was that special to them.
“Patricia is going to lie on the bed for us,” Rubin said. “Jonquille, if you would just stand here beside me, I can show you what you’re looking for.”
Don’t touch her physically. Don’t ask her to remove her clothing. Do or say something to put her at ease.
For the first time in a long while, Jonquille was grateful for her smaller size. She knew she appeared nonthreatening as she moved close to Rubin, almost beneath his shoulder but still trying to give him room. She wasn’t certain what to expect. How could he examine Patricia if he wasn’t going to physically touch her? That didn’t make sense. Excitement set in, but she forced it down, knowing the predator in him would hear her elevated heartbeat. The healer needed to be present, not the hunter.