afflicted and resists all attempts by those concerned with his well-being to intervene. Instead of bringing Bret closer, you will end up driving him away, possibly forever.”
Gabrielle sobbed. “That terrible, selfish bastard.” She opened her purse and took out a white handkerchief. “The first time he went away just about ended me, but all of this is worse, much worse.”
Gabrielle’s inability to conceal her devotion filled him with an intense adoration for her character; this, with the obvious social advantages of the Caldwell name, raised her to the throne above all other possible female candidates.
Caden made a nonchalant motion in the air with his right hand. “On the slender chance that we might convince him to seek treatment, our traditional Western therapies and medicines are sorely lacking in this area.”
He opened one of the illustrated medical texts on his desk and turned the book around for Gabrielle to see. “A regimen of ice water showers followed by bouts of bloodletting, bowel purging, vomiting, and sweating treatments can end up killing the patient faster than his affliction.”
Gabrielle closed her eyes and shut the book.
Caden nodded in sympathy for her barely restrained anguish. “I understand what you’re feeling. This is a most hideous thing to witness and I would not wish it on my worst enemy.” He ran his fingers nimbly over the stubble on his jaw then rested his chin in an upturned palm and waited.
Gabrielle would not raise her downcast eyes to meet his, seeming intent instead to look down at the black velvet fabric of her purse clutched between the entwined fingers of each gloved hand.
She briefly touched a white-gloved finger to the corner of her eye. “Every day he seems darker, more distant . . . and now this terrible accusation from Mr. Weems.” She wept again and placed her hand on top of the desk. “Sometimes I wonder if there’s any hope for Bret at all.”
“But there is, Gabrielle.” Caden reached across the desk and held her trembling hand. “Because that is exactly what I have to offer.” He withdrew the hand from his right coat pocket and placed the small, blue glass vial on top of the desk between them.
Gabrielle sniffled and shook her head. “More medications? I don’t understand. I thought you said—”
Caden raised his hand to silence her objection and smiled. “This is not a quack’s tonic but a tried and tested antidote to help break the grip of dependence. Ancients the world over have suffered as we do, only they had the courage to seek their redemption by working with nature . . . not against her.”
Gabrielle picked up the vial and held it up against the light of the desk lantern. She squinted as though trying to discern its contents. “What is it, Caden?”
“European explorers have written of a small shrub—Tabernanthe iboga— indigenous to West Africa. I won’t bore you with botanical and chemical details of alkaloids. For our purposes it is only important to know that the natives there boil the root bark and use the liquid for initiation and healing rites.”
Gabrielle placed the vial back down on top of the desk. “And what is this supposed to do?”
Caden held up the vial in his hand and clenched a fist in his right. “It closes off the areas in the brain that crave the addictive substance. If the brain has no need for the poison . . .” He smiled. “Neither does the body.”
He gently opened her hand and placed the vial in her gloved palm. “Odorless and tasteless, the sulfate solution can be mixed to dilute his current medicine. Mr. McGowan will never suspect a difference. See that he takes this instead of his regular remedy and you will marvel at the change in his personality.”
Caden slowly closed her fingers around the vial. “When reason returns to him within a few weeks, you can explain the necessity of our deception. He will be eternally grateful to you, Gabrielle, for you will be his true savior from this hell of his own making.” He reclined back in his chair and offered his best kindhearted and concerned smile to her.
Gabrielle looked at the vial in her hand. “And Bret will never suspect my interference?”
Caden shook his head. “Not in the least.” He rose and stood close to her. “His only suspicion will be that he is feeling better and that the dark storm of his life has finally lifted under the healing rays of the sun.”
Gabrielle beamed like a child opening the