Hearts Aglow

by Tracie Peterson

  “Feels good to be up,” Sissy declared. “Me and that bed is gettin’ to where we ain’t such friends.”

  Euphanel smiled. “That’s a good sign. Mother always said that when I was sick and tired of being sick and tired, I was on the mend.”

  “Dat be true.” Sissy smiled and took an uneasy step. “Been lyin’ there, feelin’ sorry for myself, and the Lord done tol’ me to stop. Said He got better things for me to do and so I’s gonna do it.”

  “And did He tell you what it was you were supposed to do?”

  Sissy smiled at Euphanel. “He just done told me to step out.

  So that’s what I’m doin’. Jes’ like Moses and the Israelites. I’s bound for the promised land.”

  Euphanel put her arm around Sissy’s waist and noted that the older woman had lost a great deal of weight. “I should think that some of what the Lord has in mind is for you to have a good meal.

  You’re as thin as an old barn cat after having kittens.”

  Sissy chuckled. “Ain’t never been called thin, afore now. I’m bettin’ it won’t last long. Don’ you be a worryin’.”

  Euphanel shook her head and helped Sissy to a chair. “You should rest a bit before we move on. I’m quite happy to have you sitting in the front room, but I don’t want you collapsing in the hall on the way.”

  “I’s stronger than you know,” Sissy said, meeting Euphanel’s expression.

  Euphanel grew somber. “I know you are my dear, dear friend. That gift from God has brought you through so far.”

  Sissy drew a deep breath and eased back against the chair. “George used to tell me I was stronger than any man he knowed, ’ceptin’ for hisself.” She grinned. “He jes’ didn’t know I was stronger than him, too. Had to be. The Good Lord done knowed what I would be up against, married to such a man.”

  Euphanel laughed and nodded. “Truer words were never spoken.”

  “I’m shore thankful for this family,” Sissy said, growing more serious.

  “And we’re thankful for you. I’m glad you’ve decided to stay with us.”

  “Ain’t a whole lot of choices, what since the house done burned down.”

  Euphanel shook her head. “You know that isn’t true. We would have happily rebuilt your house. I would just rather you live your days with us. I don’t care if you ever do another thing but sit and sing.”

  “Speakin’ of singin’, what did you and Miz Perkins decide about the shape-note singin’?”

  “We have our first gathering next Saturday evening. It will be interesting to see who actually turns up. We might only have a handful of folks at best.”

  “And you plan to invite colored folk, too?”

  Smiling, Euphanel sat on the end of the bed. “I do. Rachel and I have already discussed it. We had thought to wait until people were used to getting together and then start asking the blacks to join us, but Rachel decided we might as well just go for it straightaway. I think she’s probably right.”

  “Won’t be to the likin’ of some folks. Might cause some trouble.”

  “We’ll put that in the Lord’s hands,” Euphanel declared. “He holds the future for all of us – black, white, red, or brown. I can’t see worrying about it until it’s time.”

  Sissy smiled. “Even then, ain’t no sense worryin’.”

  “You’re right,” Euphanel replied. “Now, come on. Let’s get you up.”

  CHAPTER 12

  “Well, this is a pleasant and fortuitous surprise.” Christopher smiled at Mara and then turned to Deborah. “I have a case I’d like you to see.”

  “And what might that be?”

  Christopher motioned. “Come and see for yourself.”

  “What about Mara? She’s brought you something.”

  Christopher motioned them to follow. “You can both come. I’m sure the patient won’t mind – she’s only five.”

  He led them back into the examination room. “Miz Pulaski brought little Mary in with a sore throat and difficulty swallowing.”

  Deborah nodded at the young mother. “I remember speaking with you at the Independence Day celebration. You are opening a new dressmaking shop.”

  The blond-haired woman smiled. “Mighty kind of you to remember me.”

  Moving to where the child sat on the examination table, Deborah reached out her hand. “Miss Mary, I’m sorry to hear that you’re feeling bad.”

  “My froat hurts,” the girl replied.

  Christopher brought a lamp closer. “Pick up that mirror and you’ll be able to angle the light down de" class.map="tx">The little girl nodded. “Ahhhhh.”

  Deborah peered into her mouth while Christopher depressed the child’s tongue. “Can you see the problem?”

  “Her tonsils are quite swollen. It appears that an abscess is starting to form.” Deborah straightened. “Quinsy?”

  He nodded. She was smart to be sure. He had figured her to easily see the enlarged tonsils, but the abscess was in the very early stages and not fully formed.

  “What will you do to treat this?” Deborah asked.

  Christopher smiled and replaced the lamp on the counter. “Well, I was just telling Miz Pulaski that since this is Mary’s first time to have this trouble, we will treat it in the most widely accepted manner. Dover’s Powder will help with the pain, warm apple cider vinegar gargles will hopefully eliminate any further development of the abscess, and plenty of fluids and rest will help with the rest of her miseries.”

  Deborah nodded. “I would have suggested the same thing.

  Maybe even a muellein poultice.”

  “I agree.” He smiled and looked to where Mara had retreated to a chair across the room. “Remember when I asked you about quinsy that day at the celebration?”

  “Indeed. I, however, could never have known what to do for such a matter. Miss Vandermark certainly has a mind for such things.”

  “Are you a doctor?” the child asked.

  Deborah looked at Christopher and then at the girl. “Not exactly, but I’d like to be one day.”

  “Ain’t never heard of no lady doctors,” Mrs. Pulaski remarked. “ ’Ceptin’ for midwives.”

  “Yes, well, times are changing,” Christopher said. “There are many fine physicians of the female gender. The world is starting to see that women are just as capable of learning as men, and women are being admitted into more and more fields. One day maybe Mary will be a doctor.”

  Mary’s eyes widened. She shook her head. “Ain’t gonna be a doctor. I wanna sew dresses like my mama.”

  Mrs. Pulaski smiled and came to the child’s side. “That would seem far more fittin’ than bein’ a doctor.”

  Christopher shrugged. “I think Mary should be whatever she desires. First, however, we need to get her well.” He went and retrieved the medicine. After instructing the mother on how to measure out the medicine and administer it, Christopher sent the Pulaskis on their way.

  “I hope that’s her last bout,” he said, coming back to where Deborah stood, “but I doubt it will be. She’s at the right age to start having these problems, and it wouldn’t surprise me if she hadn’t already had several bouts of tonsillitis before now. She probably never saw anyone unless it was Miz Foster.”

  “No, the Pulaski family is new to the area,” Deborah said, shaking her head. “Mrs. Pulaski was mentioning that at the party.

  Her husband has been hired on at the mill with the expansion.”

  He nodded. “Just the same, I’m thinking it’s possible the child has suffered this before. Either way, only time will tell if the tonsils need to be removed.”

  “Have you done that surgery before?” Deborah asked.

  “I have on many occasions.” He grinned. “But you haven’t, so that will be something of an experience.”

  Mrs. Foster entered the examination room door without so much as a knock. She seemed surprised to find Deborah there and lost little time in commenting. “Are you sick?”

  Deborah shook her head. “Not at
all. We were merely discussing a case.”

  “Ain’t no reason for you to be talkin’ about patients,” the older woman countered. “Doc has my help, and that’s all he needs.”

  “Now, Mrs. Foster, I told you that Deborah wanted to train to become a physician.”

  “Deborah, is it? Seems like you two have gotten mighty familiar.

  I heard you was a-courtin’. Seems to me that workin’ together would be uncalled for. Ain’t right for you two to be alone together.” She looked to Christopher and waggled her finger. “Things get out of hand mighty easy.”

  “Well, they weren’t exactly alone, Miz Foster,” Mara Shattuck said, standing to join the group. Margaret Foster seemed surprised to find the young woman present but said nothing. “I baked Dr.

  Clayton a pie, and Deborah was kind enough to accompany me here for the delivery.” She smiled up at Dr. Clayton. “I do hope you like pie.”

  “Absolutely,” he replied. “Deborah . . . ah, Miss Vandermark, would you show her where to leave it on my desk?”

  “Certainly.” Deborah led Mara back the direction they’d come.

  Christopher looked at the accusing face of Mrs. Foster and smiled. “You really needn’t worry. Nothing is amiss here.”

  “Still ain’t fittin’.”

  “I find that strange coming from you. Didn’t you tell me you trained early on to learn healing?”

  The older woman’s face contorted into a scowl. “I was in a healin’ family. My granny and mama were healers. It were only right that I take on the chore. Miss Deborah ain’t from such a line. She’s got no reason to be workin’ in such things.”

  “I beg to differ,” Deborah said, returning from the delivery of the pie. Mara was close on her heels. “I loved my science courses at the university and believe that I have a gift for such things. I’ve helped on many occasions with sickness and wounds and I want to serve others by increasing my knowledge and skill.”

  “Folks round here ain’t never gonna accept you doctorin’ them.”

  “And why is that, Miz Foster?” Mara asked.

  Christopher almost felt sorry for the older woman. With Deborah and Mara standing up to her, surely Miz Foster had met her match. Of course, not many folks had the guts to face the woman who was known to put curses on a fellow without warning.

  But Margaret Foster was not to be bested by the younger women. She gave a jerk of her chin in defiance. “Ain’t proper for her to be treatin’ folks. She ain’t even married yet and shouldn’t have any knowledge of a man’s body. What man is gonna marry her, with her knowin’ such things?”

  “I don’t believe that is an issue here,” Christopher declared.

  He threw a wink at Deborah and found it most charming to see her blush.

  “Papa says that men and women should do as God calls them,”

  Mara countered. “Sometimes God calls us to tasks that seem unlikely, but He always has a reason. I think it’s marvelous that Miss Vandermark would take on such an endeavor. I’d be pleased to have her for my physician. Seems a woman would better understand another woman’s ailments.”

  “But it ain’t needed here,” Mrs. Foster declared. “I’m here to see to it.”

  “True for now, but that doesn’t mean you will always be here. I think that anytime a person can increase their knowledge, it is good, don’t you?” Mara questioned, looking to Christopher.

  He crossed his arms and raised a brow. “I think that knowledge is always beneficial.”

  “I do, too,” Mara replied, smiling as if the matter were completely solved. “I wonder, Miz Foster, if you wouldn’t mind helping me with an herbal matter. I understand you have managed to grow butterbur. I think it’s positively wonderful for headaches.”

  Margaret Foster seemed ready to speak on the earlier matter, then closed her mouth. She looked suspicious for a moment before finally nodding at the smiling young woman. “Come with me.” She looked to Dr. Clayton and Deborah. “You two shouldn’t be left alone. I’d get on home if I were you, Miss Deborah.”

  With that she marched to the door, Mara following quickly on her heels. Mara turned and gave a grin before following the older woman outside. Christopher let out a heavy breath and shook his head.

  “That woman would try the patience of Job.”

  Deborah shook her head. “She makes me so mad sometimes.

  All I want is to do what I feel qualified and capable of doing. I don’t mind studying until my eyes are blurry, but I have the right to be given a chance.

  “How is it fair that she goes around turning people away from the idea of my becoming a doctor? It’s not right.” Deborah began to pace, waving her arms for effect. “It’s pure jealousy. She’s just out of sorts because she thinks I’ve taken something from her. But I haven’t. And why is it not acceptable for a woman to treat an injured or dying soul, just as a man might do? I’m so intolerant when it comes to dealing with ignorance.” She fisted her hands and let out a growl of frustration.

  “Should I get the water pitcher?” Christopher asked casually.

  “And another thing – ” Deborah stopped and looked at him oddly. “What?”

  “The water pitcher? Remember when you doused me to calm me down? I promised to keep it handy, and there it sits.” He pointed to the table under the window. “I just wondered if I needed to retrieve it for the purpose of helping you to let go your anger.”

  “No. I’d rather not have to explain.” She sighed. “I don’t mean to be so volatile. It just crosses me wrong from time to time. I try so hard to do what’s right, and then something like this happens. Maybe I should give up. Maybe it’s not what God wants me to do. Maybe I just think it is.”

  Christopher heard her voice and figured a walloping dose of pity might be Deborah’s prescription for dealing with the matter. Not that she didn’t deserve to feel somewhat sorry for herself – but he couldn’t allow it to steal her focus. “You might be right.”

  She looked at him oddly. “What do you mean?”

  “Just what you said – you may not have understood God correctly. It might be best to stop what you’re doing and go home to rethink and pray about the matter.”

  “But I have prayed. I pray about it all the time. I love learning how to help treat people. I’ve been so blessed to be able to help G.W. and Sissy. You said yourself that G.W. would have surely died had I not taken the measures I did when he was injured. I can’t believe that God would give me such a desire and understanding if He didn’t mean for me to use it.”

  “Then stop whining about what one backwoods woman thinks.”

  Deborah stopped and looked at him for a moment. She seemed to be considering his comment as if there were some great, hidden wisdom in the statement. Finally she nodded. “You’re right. I guess I lost sight of the truth for a minute.”

  “You are going to be fighting an uphill battle when it comes to your desires to train in medicine,” he told her. Reaching out, he pushed back a wisp of her dark hair, then let his finger trail along her jaw. “You have to stop worrying about what other people say and think. Focus on what you know to be right. You are gifted when it comes to medicine. You’ve learned more in the short time since I’ve been here than many people learn in years of study. You devour the journals and books that I have to offer, and you retain most of the information without error.”

  He felt her body sway ever so slightly as Deborah leaned into his touch. He wanted to kiss her, but it would be a mistake, as this was a very public place. Using every last ounce of determination, Christopher stepped back.

  “Now, if we’ve resolved this crisis, I need to go. I have some folks to call on.”

  For a moment, she said nothing. To Christopher, it almost seemed as if she was battling within herself to either go or say something more. Finally she turned.

  “Don’t forget your pie,” she told him. “Also, I brought your books back. They’re on the desk, as well.”

  “I’ll be seeing patients at the m
ill all day tomorrow. How about you join me?”

  She whirled on her heel and looked at him in surprise. “Truly?”

  He grinned. “I wouldn’t tease about such a thing. It’s about time folks get used to seeing you in this role. You won’t learn any other way than to see and experience the variety of ailments and injuries. None of these visits require anyone to disrobe, so there should be no hint of impropriety. If a man is truly uncomfortable with your presence, I will trust you to have the goodness of heart to excuse yourself.”

  She nodded. “I promise.”

  Christopher could see the excitement in her eyes. “Good. Be here at ten sharp.”

  Euphanel was busy in the garden when Rob appeared seemingly out of nowhere. “What are you doing here? I figured you’d be some hours yet in the log camp.”

  “Uncle Arjan said my mind wasn’t on my work and I was dangerous.” He plopped down on the ground just beyond where she knelt.

  “You troubled about something?”

  He nodded. “I guess that’s what it is. I don’t rightly know, exactly. I find myself thinkin’ about two things all the time. They’re consumin’ my mind.”

  “Let me guess,” his mother said with a smile. “One of them is Mara Shattuck.”

  “I reckon that’s easy enough to figure out.” He grinned. “The other might surprise you.”

  “And what would that be?” She straightened and felt the stiffness in her knees. Funny, she used to be able to kneel for hours on end. She supposed it was just another flaw of growing old, and another good reason that it was silly to consider remarrying at her age.

  “Well, you know I accepted Jesus as Savior when I was just a young’un?”

  “Of course. I was there, praying with you.”

  Rob plucked a weed from the side of the plot and toyed with it while he continued. “I’ve been thinkin’ that maybe God wants more from me.”

  “In what way?” Euphanel asked.

  “Like maybe I should become a preacher or somethin’.”

  She hadn’t expected this train of thought. “A preacher?”