The tributary that fed into the Mississippi was small, no more than fifteen feet across, but it had cut a deep channel. Most of the congregation, Leonie saw, had come to the river and now lined the eastern bank. The preacher and those he was to baptize had donned plain work clothes. Leonie watched as the preacher waded out until he was nearly waist deep and said, “Come along, brother Ed. You’ll be the first.”
The man walked forward and stood almost directly in front of the minister. He was somewhat taller, and the preacher put his hands on his shoulders and looked at the congregation. He raised his voice, saying, “Jesus died and was put into the earth, but on the third day He rose from the tomb. Baptism is a picture of that. When an individual stands in this water, he’s alive to the world, but then when he is put under the water, he dies to the world. He’s a dead man. But when he comes up out of the water, he shows that he is no longer the man he used to be. Let me make it clear: this is a picture of the death, the burial, and the resurrection of Jesus. Baptism never saved anybody. Only the blood of Christ can do that, but the Lord has told us to go into the world, preaching the gospel and baptizing those who believe. When a person is baptized, he is saying to the world, ‘Look at me. I’m a new man. I’m a new woman. I’m a new young person.’”
All of this was foreign to Leonie. She watched, fascinated, as the minister put his hand on the back of the tall man’s neck while the man clasped his arm. Then the minister leaned him back and slowly lowered him into the water. He went down deep, deep, deep, completely submerged, and when he came up, people along the bank cried, “Glory!” “Praise God!” “Hallelujah!” The man wiped his eyes, and Leonie could see he was weeping. He said in a broken voice, “Praise the Lord!”
As Leonie watched the procession of people being baptized, something was happening inside of her. She could not describe it exactly, and it frightened her, for it was like nothing she had ever known. She closed her eyes for a moment, wondering what was wrong with her, but whatever the emotion, it was intensified.
Suddenly she was aware of a great desire being born in her heart to be baptized. This startled her, for she had known only sprinkling as a mode of baptism. But something about this service seemed to draw her spirit, and she felt that God was speaking to her.
The thought of God Himself speaking to her was a fearful thought. She had spoken often to Him, but now she knew that the Creator of heaven and earth was communicating with her. It did not come in words, but in human speech it would have been, “I want you to announce your love for Me to the world, publicly undergoing baptism.”
Leonie began to tremble, and she knew that this was a turning point in her life. She wanted to turn and flee and wipe all of it out of her mind, for it broke the tradition that she had been born into, all that she had ever known. But the ceremony had been so powerful, she knew she could not run.
Vaguely she was aware that the service was over. A hymn was being sung, and then when it ended, she felt Ransom’s eyes on her. “Is something wrong, Leonie?” he asked quietly as he led her away toward the buggy.
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t you feel well?”
She did not answer until they got to the buggy, and then she turned to face him. “I have the feeling that God is telling me that He wants me to . . .”
When she broke off, Ransom said gently, “What is it? You can tell me.”
“I have the feeling that I need to be baptized as those people were, but if I do, it will cut me off from all my friends.”
“Not if they’re your real friends. We’re all just Christians, whether we’re sprinkled or immersed. That’s not the test of whether people are converted or not. It’s a sign, a symbol, a picture, as the preacher said. It’s just a declaration that you are a follower of Jesus.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Leonie said helplessly. She felt weak and faint, and he put his arm around her. “You need to pray about it, and I’ll pray with you. You’ll do what God tells you to do, I’m sure. Come along now. We’ll talk about it some more.”
For the next two weeks, Leonie thought every day of her desire to be baptized. She grew calmer about it and searched the Scriptures to find guidance. Daily she prayed, “God, show me the way,” and always the answer came back in one form or another. “I want you to announce your discipleship.”
On a Thursday, Hugh came to see her, bringing her the picture he had finished. “Here it is!” he announced when she greeted him. “Hope you like it.” He stripped off the paper that protected the painting and held it up. He watched her expression and then smiled. “What do you think?”
“Why, it’s beautiful. But I never looked like that!”
“Yes, you do. Don’t insult the artist in me now.”
The picture was expertly done. She exclaimed, “You’re such a wonderful painter!”
“Come along. Let’s show it to the doctor.”
They went at once to the inside office where Ransom was seated at his desk, studying a medical book. He looked up and smiled. “Well, hello. How’s my patient?”
“Completely cured and gone back to work.” He held up the painting and said, “Here’s your favorite nurse.”
Ransom stood and exclaimed, “Why, that’s marvelous, Hugh! You’ve done a wonderful job.” He walked over and examined the painting. “I’ll buy it.”
“No sale. It’s for you, Leonie.” Hugh gave it to her, and she stood speechless.
“You mean I can keep it?”
“Yes. A small token of appreciation from a grateful patient.”
Hugh soon left. Ransom would not let Leonie leave with the painting. He kept admiring it, and he suggested, “I tell you what: let’s hang it on the wall here. It’ll be yours, but I can look at it.”
At that instant Lolean walked in and stopped abruptly when she saw the painting.
“Look at this, Lolean. Isn’t it a marvel?” Ransom asked.
Lolean stared at the painting and then said in a toneless expression, “It’s very nice.”
“It’s better than that. Here—let’s hang it right here where we can all look at it.”
Lolean did not respond, but she watched as Ransom hung the picture on the wall.
“Now,” he said, “that adds a little color to this drab office.”
Leonie knew that it was a bitter thing for the girl, but she could not think of a thing to say to her.
The patients had come and gone, and the clinic was closed. Ransom Sheffield had stayed late in his office, preparing for the next day. He was startled when the door opened and Lolean stepped inside. “I thought you’d gone to bed, Lolean.”
“No. I wanted to talk to you.”
“Is something wrong?”
Lolean had prepared herself for this moment. She said, “I have to tell you something, Dr. Sheffield.”
“You’re not ill, are you?”
“No, nothing like that.” Lolean’s face was tense, her eyes were wide, and she breathed quickly as if she had been walking very fast. “Don’t you know I care for you, Dr. Sheffield?”
Ransom suddenly knew that Leonie had been right about the girl. He had thought about her and hoped that the situation would never come to a confrontation. Now he felt helpless as he faced the young woman. “Why, of course, we’re fond of each other. That’s the way it should be.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Lolean whispered. “I mean I love you.” She watched his face, and the light went out of her eyes. “But you don’t care for me. I can see it.”
Clearing his throat, Ransom said, “You’re such a lovely young woman, and you’re going to find a man one day. For him you’ll be everything.”
“But not for you,” Lolean said flatly.
“I don’t think I’ll be getting married for a long time. I have a lot of work to do with building a new clinic.”
Lolean watched him as he faltered for words, and then she said, “I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
“Leaving! Where are you goin
g?”
“Away from here. Thank you for all you’ve done for me.” She turned and left before Ransom could move. When the door closed behind her, he stared at it and said, “Blast, why did this have to happen?” He knew she would be gone the next morning, for she was a very strong-willed young woman, and he was grieved for her. I’ll have to see what I can do for her. Maybe I can find her work somewhere else. But he knew that she was dreadfully hurt and in all probability would accept no help from him.
“Lolean left this morning.”
Startled, Leonie looked up. She had been arranging the equipment and supplies for the day’s work. She had noticed that Ransom had been very quiet, and now he was pale.
“What do you mean, she left?”
“We—we had a talk last night, and she decided to leave.”
“Did you quarrel?”
“No . . . well, I guess we did in a way. You were right, Leonie. She came and told me that she cared for me. And when I couldn’t return her affection, she said she’d find work elsewhere.”
Leonie felt great pity for Ransom. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I don’t think there was any way you could have avoided it.”
“I feel rotten.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Ransom.”
He looked at her quickly. “Don’t you talk about leaving me now.”
Leonie stared at him. He has no idea that I care for him. She said, “No, I won’t be leaving, Ransom.”
The mother superior sat listening as Leonie spoke. She did not say a word until Leonie had completely finished. Then she asked, “Why are you telling me this, Leonie?”
“Because you’ve always been so good to me, and whenever I had troubles, I came to you with them, and you always listened. And I’m troubled about what I feel. I feel that I need to be immersed, baptized the way the Protestants do it, but that’s not what I was taught. That’s not what I have always believed.”
“Catholics and Protestants differ, but they’re not the only ones. Methodists don’t immerse either—they sprinkle or pour. Episcopalians do the same. The only question is this: is God telling you to do this?”
“I’ve prayed and prayed, and the feeling won’t go away. Every night I go to sleep thinking that God is telling me to be immersed, and then the next morning, that is the first thing I think of.” Leonie’s face was twisted with anxiety. “Tell me what to do, Reverend Mother, please.”
“I can only tell you to follow the Spirit of God. And I can assure you of this: if you do decide to leave the Catholic church and go another way, I will still love you as much as ever. We will be on different paths, but they lead to the same destination.”
“Pray for me, Reverend Mother.”
“I have prayed for you since you appeared on my doorstep,” the mother superior said kindly. “But there comes a time when each of us must make her own decision. You listen to the voice of God. Be sure that it’s God who is speaking, and then you do exactly what He says. That’s the only road to happiness.”
Chapter twenty-two
Carefully Leonie stitched on the tapestry. She had gotten up before dawn, and now yellow sunlight streamed in through her window. Stitch by stitch she made the pattern come alive, and finally she straightened up, took a deep breath, and smiled. “It isn’t bad,” she said aloud. “Not bad at all.”
She had been working on the tapestry now for longer than she had ever worked on any of her projects. It was a large wall hanging, and she had woven into it things that had been meaningful to her. There had been times when she had had no money for thread or materials, but for the last two months she had been able to make considerable progress.
Running her hand over the silken surface, she took a deep pleasure in what she had created. She didn’t know why it was, but making something seemed to be an act that relieved her from the pressures of the world. Ransom had told her it was therapeutic. She knew it was good for her to work, for as she put herself into the cloth and the thread and the materials of the tapestry, somehow the world seemed to fade away, and she could concentrate solely on the project.
Finally she heard the sounds from the street outside and rose to put the tapestry away. Carefully she folded it and put it into a large box that she had saved for that purpose. Then after looking in the mirror and fixing her hair, she left her room.
She began making a breakfast, for she knew Ransom liked to have a large morning meal. She had just begun stirring the beaten eggs in a frying pan when he came in, his cheeks rosy from a shave and his eyes bright. “Another good day, Leonie,” he said cheerfully and sat down at the table.
“It is a good day.” She smiled. “I fixed you a double portion of eggs and bacon this morning. I didn’t make biscuits, though. You’ll have to eat yesterday’s.”
“That’ll be fine.”
Leonie set the table for the two of them and poured fresh coffee into the large cups and then sat down. They bowed their heads, and he asked a quick blessing. And then he tipped a bottle of hot sauce and literally baptized his eggs.
“You shouldn’t do that, Ransom.”
“Makes them taste better. Good old hot sauce!”
“You’ve destroyed your taste buds,” she scolded, but she knew it was useless. He liked hot sauce on practically everything he ate.
The two of them talked easily, and she realized, Why, we’re like a husband and wife in the morning. The thought caused her cheeks to flush slightly, and she said quickly to cover her embarrassment, “Hugh came in yesterday while you were gone.”
“How’s he doing?”
“Very well. He’s sold four paintings, and he’s happier than I’ve ever seen him. He lives in a house in town now and has asked us to visit soon.”
Ransom applied a fresh layer of hot sauce to his eggs and then spilled a few drops on the bacon. “He’s a good man, I think.”
Impulsively Leonie said, “Did you know he asked me to marry him?”
Leonie’s words caught Ransom off guard. He had just placed an enormous forkful of scrambled eggs in his mouth, and he couldn’t speak for a moment. Hastily he swallowed and nearly choked. He grabbed the coffee and drained the cup, then put it down and stared at her. “You never told me that,” he said accusingly.
“I don’t tell you everything, Dr. Sheffield,” Leonie said, smiling.
“Well, you could have told me something as important as that.” He leaned forward and studied her carefully. The light of her eyes held laughter, and he noticed, not for the first time, that she had a pleasantly expressive mouth—a woman’s lovely lips.
Light danced in her eyes. “Did you think I should have sent him to ask your permission to marry me?”
Ransom said casually, “Well, since you don’t have any parents, I think it might have been appropriate.”
“What would you ask him?”
“Oh, the usual stuff. ‘Are you able to support a wife? Do you love her with all your heart? Will you promise never to be short or angry with her?’”
“And what if he passed the test?”
“Leonie, why did he bring that up? It’s an odd topic for the two of you to discuss.”
“I think he’s just lonely and—”
When she broke off Ransom studied her more carefully. “You’re lonely too, I suppose.”
“I’m very happy, Ransom. Much happier than I was when I was younger.”
Ransom watched her face and said, “Well, if any young men come calling, I insist on interviewing them.”
“You’d scare them off. You have a formidable manner at times.”
“Me? I’m as mild as Louis.”
Louis had been sitting on the floor, looking up, hoping for a bite of something. “You are gentle, aren’t you, Louis?” Ransom said. He broke off a piece of bacon, leaned over, and gave it to the cat, who promptly devoured it.
“You can be stern sometimes.”
“Not with you, I hope, Leonie.”
“No. Never with me.”
It was a pl
easant breakfast, and finally Leonie rose, saying, “I’ve got to go to the market. Do you need anything particularly?”
“Why don’t you get some fresh jumbo shrimp?”
“You’d have those every night. You need a change.”
“Just tonight. We can have what you want tomorrow night.”
“All right. I’ll see what I can do.”
Jean Larue was sitting in his carriage half-asleep, but as Leonie emerged from the clinic, he straightened up and pulled at his mustache. His bright blue eyes lit up, and he whipped off his cap, exposing his bald head. “Good morning, Mademoiselle. Where can I take you?”
“Oh, I’m just going to the market, Jean.”
“Get in. A young lady needs to go in style.”
Leonie got into the carriage and said, “Let’s go by the Barneses’ house, Jean. I want to check on the children.”
“Oui. I will take you there.”
They arrived at the Barnes home a few moments later, and Jean said, “Take your time. I’m not anxious to work much today.”
“All right, Jean.” Leonie dismounted, stepped to the pavement, and knocked on the door. Susan opened it and greeted her warmly. “You’re up early. Come in!”
“I can’t, Susan. I’m going to market. I thought perhaps you might need something.”
“No, but thank you for stopping. Why don’t you come for supper tonight?”
“Oh, I’ve promised to cook Dr. Sheffield a special dinner. He loves shrimp.”
Susan Barnes smiled and shook her head. “You’re getting good practice for marriage,” she observed. “You’re learning how to take care of a man.”
Leonie looked up quickly, embarrassed. “Well, I’ll be going. If I see anything particularly good, I’ll drop it off on the way home.”
“Thank you, dear. You’re always good to look out for us like that.”
Leonie got back into the carriage, and Jean said, “To the market now, I take it?”
“Yes. And hurry, if you please. I need to be back before the patients start coming in.”
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