Read Online Good Medicine by Bobby Hutchinson - Free Book Online Page A

scowling at thescreen. Why couldn’t he keep his mind on what he was doing?
    Because I’m thinking about the blue-eyed doctor. The answer surprised him. He hadn’t been consciously thinking about her, but she was definitely there, just under the surface, distracting him.
    His body had reacted to her today. He’d tried to pretend it hadn’t, because he liked to believe he was in control of himself, his thoughts, his responses.
    He’d been celibate for a long time—by choice. Several attractive women in the village had made it plain they’d welcome him in their bed. And he’d been tempted. It would be a lie to say he hadn’t.
    But he wanted someone to share his ideas with, a woman he could trust enough to open up to, dream with, laugh with—and, yeah, take to his bed. He was strong and healthy, with a hale and hearty libido. He was also solitary, preferring to watch people rather than engage with them. It wasn’t a trait that endeared him to women when the lovemaking was over, and there hadn’t been many who intrigued him enough to risk sharing more than sex with them.
    The problem was there were no secrets on this island. Everyone would know before noon who he’d bedded. Not that there was anything wrong with that, either. But as a healer, he had a certain status. He wasn’t obliged to embrace celibacy, except during the periods of purification necessary for certain ceremonies. But there was a personal moral code he felt obliged to sustain.
    â€œAnd now you’re laughing at me, Grandmother,” he whispered. He could almost see Sandrine in the corner of the room, as she used to be, sitting in the rocking chair she’d given him long ago. “You’re right, I’m a stuffed shirt. I take myself way too seriously. You always told me I needed to laugh at myself more.”
    â€œLove more, too. The opposite of man is woman, and we all need to know our opposite and embrace it. You will only find the other half of yourself in another person, Grandson. It’s the only way we ever really see ourselves.”
    He turned and looked directly at the chair.
    â€œHelp me, Grandmother.” He wasn’t sure what he meant, exactly. He only knew that he suddenly felt vulnerable.
    But Sandrine wasn’t there.
    He had to escape outside. He saved his document and got to his feet, grabbing his jacket from the wooden peg by the door.
    Outside, the woods were alive with night sounds. Silas stood and listened, separating them, naming them. Owl. Coyote. The scurrying of a small animal, maybe a marmot. The twittering of birds, settling in for the night. The faint scent of skunk, somewhere off to the west. The tang of the evergreens, the salt of the sea.
    He’d deliberately built in the bush so he wouldn’t have to see any lights at night except the moon and stars. Looking up, he watched as the clouds opened up to reveal Venus and Orion.
    There was only a sliver of moon, and a cloud obscured it after a moment, but it was enough. The vastness of the night sky put everything into proportion, as it always did. The world was very small compared to the universe and there were more worlds than this one.
    His eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and he made his way effortlessly and silently along the path. Usually he went down to the water, but tonight he headed to the village.
    There’d been an AA meeting at the school, and it was just breaking up as Silas drifted past. He heard Lily’s distinctive belly laugh, and Sam saying something about the coffee being too strong.
    â€œStrip the rust right outta your pipes,” he rasped. “Hey, there. How’s it goin’ Silas?”
    The healer nodded to them but didn’t stop to talk. His long stride carried him up the slight incline to the medical center. There was a soft light coming from the treatment area, where Louie was resting. The living quarters at the back were dark, the screened window