by Janette Oke
“It’s all over,” he said, his voice low. “Doc says it went well. Now we jest have to wait an’ see.”
Marty rose and hurried in to Clark’s bedside while Missie and Maria prayed together again.
During the next few days Clark was in and out of consciousness, mostly because of the medication. Dr. de la Rosa, as he was now known, stayed with him, Maria having returned home to their children. Marty found the time following Clark’s surgery even more physically and emotionally taxing than her previous vigil, but Juan gave her encouraging reports daily. Clark’s pulse was more normal and his color was improving. Juan was hopeful that the infection had been caught in time. Marty dreaded the moment when Clark would be aware of the fact his leg was missing. She worried about how he might respond to the shocking truth.
It happened on the third day following surgery. Clark awoke and seemed to be quite rational. He asked for Marty, who was having her lunch at the time. She went to him, and Dr. de la Rosa left the room.
“I’ll be right here in the hall if you need me,” Juan whispered softly as he left.
Marty crossed to Clark’s bed.
“Hello there,” she said softly. “It’s nice to see ya awake. You’ve been sleepin’ a powerful lot lately.”
Clark managed a crooked grin. “I reckon,” he admitted.
“Ya feelin’ some better?”
“I think I’m feelin’ lots better than even I know,” said Clark.
“Meanin’?”
“Meanin’ I’ve sorta lost track of time an’ what’s been goin’ on. I need a few explanations, Marty. Seems I’ve been in an’ out of a nightmare. Care to fill me in?”
Marty sighed heavily. “It’s been a nightmare fer all of us—but I guess fer you, most of all.”
Clark waited for her a moment and then prompted, “I think I need to know, Marty.”
“Where do ya want to start?”
“How ’bout the beginnin’?”
“Ya remember the mine accident?”
“I remember.”
“Ya know thet ya was hit on the head an’ were out fer a few days?”
“I do.”
“Do ya remember comin’ round at all?”
“Yeah. It’s sorta hazy. I was in an awful lot of pain. My leg was—”
Clark stopped for a moment, then went on, “My leg’s not as bad now.”
“We found a doctor. He’s been carin’ fer ya.”
“A doctor! Since I woke up, Juan’s been—”
“Juan is a doctor.”
“Juan?”
“Right.”
“Well, don’t thet beat all?” Clark grinned. “How’d thet come ’bout?”
“It’s a long story,” said Marty. “Juan’s been runnin’ away from his past. One day I’ll tell it all to ya.”
“Well, don’t thet beat all,” Clark said again, shaking his head. “Juan a doctor. Folks hereabouts must be crazy-happy to learn—”
“They’s excited ’bout it, all right. Soon’s yer well enough to leave without his care, Juan is headin’ fer a city to git what he needs to start up a proper-like practice. He’s already set the ankle of thet boy in town who was in the mine. He thinks he might even be able to rebreak an’ set the arm of the young Newton child. The parents are willin’ fer ’im to try.”
“Well, I’ll be,” said Clark and then, after a moment of silent thoughtfulness, he said, “Ya know, this here accident might be worth it if it got a doctor fer this town. Iffen it helped clear up Juan’s problems so he could do his proper work again, it jest might be worth the price.”
Marty cringed. Clark did not as yet know just how high the price had been.
“So Juan cared for me, huh?” Clark went on.
“He did,” answered Marty, “right when we had ’bout given up.”
“I was thet bad?”
“Thet bad.”
“He had the proper medicine?”
“Enough fer it to do the job. Heard him fussin’ thet he didn’t have a certain somethin’ else, but I guess what he did have worked.”
“An’ he fixed my leg.”
“He saved yer life,” said Marty.
“He fixed my leg an’ saved my life.”
Marty did not answer. She bit her lip and then realized Clark was waiting for her to go on.
“Clark,” she said slowly, “yer leg was bad broke. It wasn’t just a break, Clark. It was crushed. Then it got even worse. It got all infected with gangrene. The gangrene’s poison nearly killed ya. It would have, too, if it hadn’t been fer Dr. de la Rosa.”
Clark’s face had gone white as Marty said the words gangrene and poison.
“An’ yer sayin’—?” His voice was husky with emotion.
“I’m sayin’ thet Dr. de la Rosa fixed yer leg as best he could . . . in the only way he could. . . . He took it off, Clark. He took it off ’fore it killed ya.”
Clark turned away his face. Marty saw a deep shiver vibrate all through him. She threw her arms around him and held him close. She waited for a moment until the reality of it had time to penetrate.
“Clark,” she said, her tears falling freely, “I know thet isn’t what ya wanted to hear. I know ya didn’t want to lose a leg. I didn’t want it, either, Clark. With my whole bein’, I fought it. But it was yer leg or you. For a while, it looked as if it would be both. Oh, Clark, I’m jest so thankful to God thet He sent a doctor along in time to spare ya. I . . . I . . . I don’t know how I’d ever make it without you, Clark. God spared ya, an’ I’m so glad. So glad. We’ll git by without the leg . . . I promise.”
Clark smoothed her hair and held her close. His trembling eventually stopped. He could even speak. “Yer right. It’ll be all right. Guess it jest takes some gettin’ used to.”
And then Marty just let herself go and cried out all of her pent-up worries and frustrations. “Oh, Clark,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry. So sorry it had to happen to you like this. If I coulda jest taken yer place. . . . I know how important it is to a man to be whole—to be able to feed an’ care fer his family. I could have done my carin’ from a chair. It wouldn’t have mattered near as much to me. Oh, Clark! I’m so sorry.”
“Hush now, hush,” said Clark. “Yer actin’ like one a’ those hysterical woman. This don’t change things. I can still care fer my family. One leg ain’t gonna make a lot of difference. Hush, now. Iffen the Lord hadn’ta figured I could do without my leg, He wouldn’t’ve ’llowed this, now would He?”
At length, Clark got Marty comforted and in control. He pushed her gently away from him. “An’ now,” he said, “if ya don’t mind, I’m feelin’ in need of some rest. I’ll talk to ya in the mornin’. Now you send thet there doc back in here, will ya?”
Marty left the room and sent in Juan. Juan entered the room, his pulse racing as he remembered the other incident when his brother had discovered his missing limb. He didn’t blame any man for taking the news hard. He stood silently, looking at the big man lying still on the bed. Clark was the first to speak.
“I hear I owe ya my life.”
Juan said nothing. Perhaps Clark did not yet know about his leg.
But Clark went on. “It must be a powerful hard decision fer a man to make—even a man trained in medicine—to take a man’s limb an’ spare the man’s life, or let him die with both legs on. I’m glad I’ve never had to do the choosin’. I want to tell ya ‘thank you’ for bein’ brave enough to make the choice fer me when I wasn’t able to make it fer myself. I would have chosen to live, Juan—even without the leg—I would have chosen to live. Life is good—an’ life is in the hands of almighty God. Now, I’m not sayin’ I fancy learnin’ to live without a leg. I’m not pretendin’ to be some hero thet it won’t bother none. But I am sayin’ ‘thank you’ fer givin’ me thet chance. With God’s help, I’ll make it. If He ’llowed it, then He must have a plan to git me through it, too. Fer He plans only fer my good.”
Juan stood watching Clark—no angry cries, no cursing, no incrimi
nations coming from the man. Clark knew of his handicap—he knew of his great loss—but he had accepted it and even thanked the doctor for giving him a chance to live. There was a difference here. A distinct difference between the way this man accepted his handicap and the way his own brother had. What made the difference? Juan determined to do some thinking on it when he could get off by himself and take the time. One thing he already knew—where his brother had cursed God, this man thanked God. Perhaps . . . perhaps it had something to do with that.
Clark interrupted his thoughts. “An’ now, Doctor, I don’t be pretendin’ thet this here situation hasn’t shook me up a bit. It’s gonna take some gittin’ used to the idea. I don’t much feel up to thinkin’ ’bout it at the moment. Ya happen to have somethin’ to help a man git a little sleep instead? It might all be easier to handle come mornin’.”
Dr. de la Rosa moved to prepare some medication.
Clark did not go to sleep immediately. He spent time thinking, even though he wished he could shove the whole problem off to the side and pretend it did not exist. He also did some praying—deep soul-searching conversation with the Almighty, asking for God’s help in the hours, days, and weeks ahead of adjustment and growing. He even did some weeping—heartrending sobs that shook his large frame. When it was all over, he wiped the tears from his gaunt cheeks, set his chin, and reached for the unseen hand of God. It was a very long time before he discussed his feelings concerning his handicap again.
Thirteen
Adjustments
Marty thought Clark’s recovery was slow indeed, but to Dr. de la Rosa, it was a daily miracle. Clark was doing much better than the doctor had dared to hope. When one considered what the man had been through, his convalescence was truly amazing, Doc often told her.
Willie had kept the family in the East informed throughout the whole ordeal by the means of telegrams. A great measure of relief accompanied the cable assuring them that Clark was well on the way to recovery. He stated that, at the present, he was still unable to give them a date for Clark’s return home. The answer soon came by telegram: “PA DON’T HURRY STOP EVERYTHING FINE HERE STOP LETTER FOLLOWING.” Marty anxiously awaited the arrival of the letter.
As she sat one morning mending one of Nathan’s small shirts, Marty was surprised to realize it was well past the time they had planned to return to their farm. How different the trip had turned out from what they had expected! It dawned on Marty that Clare’s wedding was only days away. She and Clark would not—could not—possibly make it back in time. Deep disappointment flooded through her. How could she miss her son’s wedding? But neither would she want the young couple to postpone it on their account. Then Marty thought of Luke’s plans to go off to college. She should be home right now preparing his clothes and getting him ready. How she hated to miss that, too! A few tears slipped down her cheeks, and Marty wiped them away quickly before they could be observed. But Luke is so young, her heart cried. It was hard enough to let him go, but without her there to . . . She stopped herself. She’d be crying in earnest if she didn’t get her imagination under control.
Marty laid aside the shirt and went to check on Clark. Missie was already there. In fact, it was not often that Missie was not with her father. She made up games to play with him, read to him, fluffed his pillows, sponged his face and hands, talked to him about her garden and children, discussed his meals, and told him of happenings in the district. Yes, Missie was often with her father. It was touching to see so much love between father and daughter. Marty smiled at the two of them.
“Do you know what he’s saying?” said Missie in exasperation. “He’s saying that he’s going to get up.”
Marty smiled again. “I think thet’s a great idea.”
“Great?” Missie exclaimed, shocked. “He’s not ready for that yet! Juan said—”
“Juan said he should choose his own pace. Iffen yer father thinks he is—”
Clark stopped the two of them. “Hold it, hold it,” he said, raising his hands in his customary way. “No use ya all gittin’ into it. I will obey my doctor. I’ll not git up till I’m good ’n’ ready to git up. Iffen ya don’t think the time is right, Missie, I’ll wait.”
Missie looked relieved and Marty slightly bewildered.
“I’ll wait until right after lunch,” Clark announced.
Missie sputtered, “Big wait—especially since it’s now eleven-thirty.”
All three began to laugh.
After lunch Clark sat on the edge of the bed for a while. Later, with Marty on one side and Wong on the other, he moved to the porch to sit in a rocking chair. The day was hot, but Marty could tell the sun’s rays felt good to this man who had been shut away in the house far too long. He took great breaths of the fresh air and sniffed deeply of the earth and growing things.
Nathan came to play by him, showing him all the tricks Max could do. Being a family dog rather than a show dog, Max had very few of them, so Nathan put him through the same ones over and over while Clark laughed appreciatively as though enjoying each trick.
Marty tried to keep herself from hovering over him, but she watched carefully for any signs he might be overdoing it.
Just then Scottie returned from town with the promised letter from the family back home.
Excitedly, Marty read it aloud.
“Dear Ma and Pa,
“We are so glad to hear that Pa is finally feeling better. We can’t say how sorry we are for the accident that took Pa’s leg, but we are so glad that he was spared. We have all been praying daily, I guess almost hourly, for you both.
“We don’t want you to worry a bit about things here at home. Clare has decided to go ahead with his wedding. They had talked of waiting until you were back home again, but they thought that might pressure you into traveling before you are really ready. We want to be good and sure you are strong enough for the trip before you attempt it, Pa. So, for our sake, please don’t come home until you are really well.
“Arnie is taking good care of the stock. That’s been his job since you left, Pa. Of course he helps Clare in the field, too, but the stock is in his special care. He has not been seeing Hester lately. Her brothers just made it too miserable, and she says she doesn’t want to marry anyone that her brothers can’t drink with.
“There’s a new girl in town, though. She is the new preacher’s daughter, and Arnie has gotten pretty friendly with her. You would really like her, Ma. She’s a very thoughtful person, and Arnie is beginning to think she’s kind of cute.
“Luke’s not going to college this fall. He’s been spending a bit of time with Dr. Watkins lately. Dr. Watkins says he’s still plenty young and another year of waiting won’t hurt him any. Dr. Watkins is giving Luke the use of some of his medical books to read. He is taking Luke with him on his Saturday calls, too, so Luke says he is learning more than he ever would in the first year of medical school. Dr. Watkins really seems to be enjoying Luke. He treats him as though he were his son. Guess Dr. Watkins maybe misses not having a family of his own. Anyway, Luke seems really happy with this arrangement.
“Everything is going well here. The canning is almost all done, Ma. The garden has done real good and the apples are coming on well. Ma Graham came over and helped me for one day. She sends her love. Everyone at church is remembering you in prayer.
“Nandry and Clae both say they will write now that we know a little better what to say. I will admit we were really scared for a while. God bless you both. We miss you to be sure, but we are doing fine on our own.
“In love,
Ellie and the boys”
The letter both relieved and saddened Marty. She missed them all so much, but it was good to hear they were all right and managing well in spite of the extended absence. She was glad Clare was going ahead with the wedding, and she was also glad Arnie had a nice girl for a friend. Marty was relieved to hear that her Luke would not be going off to college without his mother there to see him off. She quietly thanked God for working
out these things and for allowing Dr. Watkins to shepherd the boy.
Clark turned from the letter with relief on his face. Marty had been unaware that, in spite of his ordeal, he also was concerned for the family at home.
“Well,” he said, “seems as though they be makin’ do jest fine without us. I’m proud of the young’uns you’ve raised, Mrs. Davis.” He reached over from his chair for her hand.
Marty beamed. “An’ so am I. ’Course you didn’t have much of a hand in it at all.”
“Maybe we can jest sort of take our time recuperatin’ after all,” sighed Clark. His grin was a little wobbly. “I think I’ll jest get on back to my bed and catch me a nap.”
Marty looked at him quickly and saw he was rather pale. Maybe Missie had been right . . . maybe Clark was pushing things too quickly. She and Wong got him settled back in his bed.
But Clark was content to take one day at a time. He attempted only what he thought he could manage. Very gradually, his strength was returning.
The two couples from town whose boys had been involved in the mine accident came out to the LaHaye ranch for a visit. The two mothers, still unable to talk of the incident without weeping, thanked Clark over and over for going in after their sons. Mrs. Croft, whose Abe had been lost in the mishap, wiped away tears as she talked about how difficult the adjustment to life without Abe had been for his brother Casey and his parents. But she was so thankful they had been able to see Abe again and that his body had not been buried deep in the mine. They also were appreciative to Willie for taking charge of arrangements concerning the blasting of the mine opening so there would be no further danger to other children.
Though it was difficult for them to truly express what they were feeling, they did try to make Clark understand how sorry they were that he had lost his leg. Clark assured them that in every circumstance of his life—whether good or bad—he believed with all of his heart that God knew his situation and was more than able to help him through it. He told them he was aware that there would be adjustments and some of them would be difficult. But, when it came down to it, though he was human, God was sovereign. The visitors looked a trifle uneasy at Clark’s forthrightness about his faith, and Marty, watching them with understanding, supposed it was as new to them as it had been to her when she had first joined Clark’s household so many years before. Clark’s face and voice held such confidence that in spite of their doubts, those in the room could not but be sure he believed every word.
