Page 10 of Property of Doc

“Doc, I can’t… no, this isn’t right, I can’t be in here with you like this,” she stammers. “Can you put me in another room? And why am I here and not out at the cabins with the others?” she asks, firing off question after question.

“No, you’re not going to another room, you’re staying right here where I can keep an eye on you,” I reply. “As for why you’re not out at the cabins, I need you to understand that you’re mine.”

“I don’t understand it, we’re work colleagues, maybe more like acquaintances, so I don’t comprehend how I can possibly be yours,” she retorts.

I see some of the sass that has always turned me on in her right now and I bite back my smirk. “The first day you came into the clinic to work, I was intrigued, Gretchen. The longer we worked with each other, the more I liked what I saw. My mistake was waiting to act on it, because we had a few things going on in the club. But when you were abducted, I decided that life was toofucking short to wait for the perfect time. I’ve seen the looks you give me when you think I’m not looking and if I’m right, you’re just as interested in me as I am in you. All I’m asking is for you to give me a chance. Giveusa chance.”

She sighs, then says, “I don’t know why you’d want to take a chance on someone like me, especially given the current circumstances, but I’m willing to try.”

“That’s all I want, sweetheart. I know you’ve got this hurdle to overcome, but while you’re going through it, I’m going to be right by your side,” I promise.

Her head drops and she quietly replies, “I don’t think I’m worth the effort now, and I think you’re crazy to stick by me, especially under the current circumstances, Doc.”

When I see tears falling down her cheeks, I sit on the side of the bed and carefully pull her into my arms. “I think you are. There’s someone I’m going to introduce you to, a therapist. She mostly works with women getting out of domestic abuse situations, but she’s a good woman and you’ll have someone you can talk to about how you’re feeling.”

“Can I talk to you, too?”

“We can discuss anything you want, sweetheart. Now, I know you’re having fun with your diamond art, but it’s almost time for you to eat again and you’ll probably doze off, so we should probably put it up for now,” I say.

“Can you stay and eat with me? I know you need to get to work so if you can’t, it’s okay.” She’s second-guessing herself, and I can’t have that. I need her to be both mentally and physically strong by the time we finish treating her.

“I’ll always have time for you, Gretchen.”

With that, I help get the diamond art contained and off the bed, then walk with her back downstairs so we can eat. It’ll put me behind a bit, but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.

CHAPTER

SIX

Gretchen

I settle into a new routine of sorts. My body is still out of whack thanks to detoxing, so sometimes, I’m up half the night only to sleep most of the next day away. I have free rein of the clubhouse, with the exception of the room the men use to meet in and the occupied bedrooms, of course.

Walking into the kitchen, I see Constance and Maria bustling around fixing lunch. “Can I help?”

“We can always use an extra set of hands, especially since the ranch hands are working to move the livestock to the winter pasture. We’ve got about twenty extra mouths to feed,” Constance replies.

“Then point me where you want me and I’ll do what I can,” I state.

I’m still pretty weak and my clothes, which Doc sent Shelly for, hang on me, but for the first time since I was rescued, I feel almost like myself. The craving is there in the back of my mind,scratching away at my skull, but I focus on the skills I learned long ago. I know from past experience that keeping myself busy will push it away, at least for a little while.

Doc has me on a titrated dose of medicine which takes the worst of the monster down to a dull roar, thank goodness, but if I’m idle for too long, it comes roaring back with a vengeance.

I sit down at the table and Maria bustles over with a large pan full of potatoes and a wry grin on her face. “I suppose you can guess what we’re having with all of these,” she says as she sets it in front of me along with a potato peeler.

“Mashed potatoes?” I ask. “Or something else?”

“You were correct the first time, we’re going to be making several containers of shepherd’s pie, but it tastes better when the potatoes are from scratch,” she says. “I’ve got the first pot going already.”

“Then I better get started. What do you want me to do with the peels?” I inquire.

“Here, use this,” Constance replies, putting an empty bowl on the table. “We have a compost pile for the garden.”

“Ah, reduce, reuse, recycle,” I murmur as I pick up the first potato and start peeling.

“Whatever we’re able to, yes,” Maria says. “Rio’s grandfather, Paps, built this place from the ground up and he took a lot of pride that we used whatever we had until it was completely used up. Even when the ranch started turning a profit, the habits were there and as he used to tell us, ‘why fix what ain’t broken?’,” she adds, giggling. “It hasn’t always been easy, but ranch work usually isn’t.”

As I peel, the three of us continue chatting. The conversation isn’t deep at all, but I find myself enjoying their company. I’m a relatively social person, so those weeks of virtual isolation have been extremely difficult. When the talk turns to crafts and hobbies, I shyly say, “I started making various treats a few years ago. You know, dipping fresh fruit, pretzel rods, Rice Krispie treats, that kind of thing in melted almond bark, then decorating them.”