Courting the Doctor's Daughter

by Janet Dean

  She met his gaze. Silent communication streaked between them, a message of man and woman, alone and lonely. A blush crept into her cheeks, and she dropped her eyes to her plate.

  Obviously, a message she regretted.

  Forcing himself to stop looking at her mouth, he tasted the creamy potatoes, tender roasted chicken, sweet corn and tangy home-canned applesauce, a feast. “Everything is delicious. Better than Mrs. Whitehall’s cooking, and I ought to know. I have breakfast at her café every morning.” On those evenings he couldn’t abide the silence in his quarters, he ate dinner there too, but he didn’t say that. He looked around him. “A restaurant isn’t like this kitchen—homey.”

  “You can eat Mom’s cooking every day, if—”

  “Philip Earl Graves.” His full name and one stern look silenced her son.

  Pretending he hadn’t understood Philip’s intent, Luke cleared his throat and glanced to his left. “Your grandfather told me about the fight, Michael. I’m sure you and Jimmy will work it out.”

  Michael shrugged. “He’s still mad. So am I.”

  “When the bruises fade, maybe the anger will too.”

  Michael toyed with his food.

  A memory tugged at Luke. Maybe if he told the boy something Michael could relate to, he’d feel better. “I hit someone once.” More than once, but he wouldn’t say that.

  His green eyes widened. “You got into a fight with a friend?”

  “Worse than that. At about your age, I punched my nanny. Not very hard, but still I did, even though I knew better.”

  Philip took a swig of milk and then wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “What’s a nanny?”

  “A nanny lives in your house and takes care of you.”

  “Why? Did your mother die?”

  A lump lodged in Luke’s throat, and he shook his head, avoiding Mary’s gaze. Why had he gotten into this?

  Michael looked baffled. “Then why did a nanny live in your house?”

  Luke had never been questioned by children before. These two would make dandy prosecutors. “Well, my mother had a busy life. You know, doing things. Anyway, the nanny wouldn’t let me tell my parents good night.”

  Ben planted his chin on his folded hands. “How come?”

  “They probably had company.” He could still picture the elegant partygoers parading through the house. “Whatever reason I had for being upset, when we don’t like what someone says, we should talk about it. You know, work it out.”

  “Instead of hitting.” Michael sighed.

  “I learned that the hard way.” Luke grimaced.

  Ben gasped. “Did you get a whippin’?”

  “No, but besides apologizing to the nanny, I had to muck out the horses’ stalls every day for a week.”

  Philip scrunched up his face. “Whew!”

  Luke and Mary shared a smile.

  “Our mom’s never too busy to tell us good night,” Philip said.

  Without realizing it, Philip had gotten to the crux of the matter. Mary and Luke’s parents were worlds apart. Not because of money, or status. His mother and father didn’t understand love. Mary did. She was a wonderful mother and would never let anything make her sons feel abandoned.

  Michael’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, and our dad rode us to bed on his back.”

  Philip giggled. “I’d shout, ‘Giddy up, horsey!’”

  “Your father must have loved you very much.”

  Philip sighed. “We miss him.”

  The expressions of yearning on their faces told Luke they hungered to talk about Sam. The boys had one loving parent, but the one who’d died clearly left a large void, a void Luke related to.

  Mary leapt to her feet, clearing the dishes.

  Ben’s lower lip protruded. “I wanna dad to talk about.”

  Luke’s heart stopped, then started again. Sudden tears blurred his vision. Head down, he made a big production of smoothing the napkin on his lap. He wanted to take his son into his arms and tell him he not only had a dad but his father loved him with everything he possessed. His shoulders hunched against the compulsion to scoop up Ben, all three of these boys, but mind-numbing uncertainty kept him in his chair.

  What could he do to give Ben happy memories of his own? “How about a walk?” Such a small thing hardly atoned for his inability to be a father, but wasn’t it the small things he’d missed in his childhood?

  “Can we, Mom? Please!” Philip pleaded.

  Mary glanced out the window. “It’ll be dark really soon.”

  Ben rose and tugged on Mary’s skirt. “If you hold my hand, I won’t be scared.”

  “Let’s hurry.” Michael almost knocked over his chair in his eagerness to go.

  Waving a hand at the pile of dishes, the leftover food, Mary remained at the sink. “Go ahead. I’ll stay and clean up the kitchen.”

  If only Mary could see this walk as a spontaneous, fun moment for the boys. He laid a hand on the stack of dirty dishes. “When we get back, I’ll help. You know I’m experienced in that area.”

  A fleeting smile crossed Mary’s lips. “All right.”

  The boys donned jackets and raced to the door. Soon he, Mary and the boys tramped outside, breathing in the cool night air. Beside them, the youngsters chattered about one thing or another. Mary held Ben’s hand but remained largely silent. Nothing as simple as a stroll could dispel the obstacles between them, but he could enjoy the moment. Luke took Ben’s other hand, cradling the soft palm with his own.

  The lingering scent of burning leaves and the sounds of night whispered around them. Overhead, the hoot of an owl, the flapping of wings, and underfoot, the crunch of withered foliage. October ebbed. November loomed. The boys talked of bobbing for apples, drinking cider, eating pumpkin pie.

  An unexpected ache spread through Luke. He’d never taken strolls with his family. Never found a woman he wanted to share these things with…until he met Mary. A lifetime ago, he and Joseph had shared the same camaraderie that existed between Mary’s boys. These boys took their family for granted. Yet, missing their father, they had a gaping hole in their lives too.

  If only Luke had the skills to be a father, but he had the same void in his life. He’d tried to fill it with work, with worthy goals. But nothing compared to feeling cherished.

  No matter how much he fought the conclusion with logic, in the deepest part of him, Luke believed his parents’ aloofness stemmed from an unknown lack in him. Perhaps if he’d been more lovable…

  They looped back to Mary’s house, cutting off Luke’s dark thoughts. Whatever the cause, the past couldn’t be undone.

  Nor could the present. He wouldn’t risk destroying Ben’s wonderful life.

  “There’s the Big Dipper,” Michael said, pointing at the sky, “and the Little Dipper. What is that?”

  “That’s Orion’s Belt,” Mary said directing Ben’s gaze.

  The next thing Luke knew, he lay on his back in the grass, a boy nestled on each side of him, with Mary leaning on her elbows next to Ben, drinking in the constellations. Sharing this moment, Luke’s throat clogged with gratitude and with something more…something new…an overwhelming feeling he could only describe as tenderness. He cared for these people, for Mary, Michael, Philip and Ben. He’d never again delude himself that he could return to New York without leaving part of himself—the good part—behind.

  “God hung all the stars in the sky. The sun and moon too,” Mary said softly. “He made a beautiful world for us.”

  “The moon has a face. See, Mom!” Ben said, sitting up and stretching his arms as if trying to embrace it.

  “Is it God’s face?” Philip said.

  “No, but we can pretend it is,” Mary said. Luke heard the smile in her voice. “Because we know God loves us, and we’re never out of His care.” She kissed Ben on his upturned forehead.

  Tears blurred Luke’s vision. If only he could look after this family. God, watch over these precious children. Take care of Mary.

  Mary rose an
d pulled Ben up behind her, insisting they needed to go back, breaking the spell. Once they reached the house, she oversaw getting the boys into bed while Luke tackled the dishes. After a while, she joined him at the sink, humming a tune. Before he knew it they sang several songs, ditties they’d known all their lives. Their voices meshed, and the gaiety eased the friction between them.

  Mary dried the last dish. “Thanks for giving my sons peace about their father,” she said. “And reminding them fighting isn’t a solution.”

  “Maybe you and I need to remember that too.”

  Her hands stilled, the dish forgotten. “We aren’t fighting, Luke. We’re just on different paths. You’re leaving, remember?”

  The lie he lived put a chasm as deep as the Grand Canyon between them. Unlike these dishes, it was an issue that all the scrubbing in the world couldn’t remove.

  Chapter Fourteen

  In the hour before Addie’s shop opened, Mary sat across from her sister-in-law, enjoying a moment of peace.

  Working with coarse thread, Addie attached a feather to the crown of a black velvet hat. “You look as miserable as Fannie when James won’t do her bidding. What’s wrong?”

  Looking at Lily’s sleeping face, Mary forced a smile, hoping the turned up corners of her mouth would pacify her sister-in-law. She loved Addie, enjoyed watching her create the beautiful hats sported by most ladies in town. But at the moment, Addie’s probing gaze made her want to dash for the door. “What could be wrong when I’m holding my precious little niece?”

  Addie laid down her needle and leaned toward Mary. “Are you falling in love with Luke?”

  “Don’t be silly!” Lily stirred and Mary lowered her voice. “We’re…friends.” Though of late, even their friendship was on shaky ground.

  “Friends don’t make a person look miserable. Or they shouldn’t.” Addie’s eyes grew dreamy. “But oh, I remember the ups and downs of falling in love. Many a time the face reflected in my mirror appeared downright wretched, well, except when I looked like a daisy in the sun.” Addie laughed. “So don’t be so quick to deny the possibility. Have you seen him outside of the office?”

  “He came by the house last night to check on Michael’s eye and stayed for supper. Afterward we took the boys on a walk.”

  “Aha, you enjoy his company. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “Yes, when we aren’t in opposition.”

  “It’s good to share opinions.”

  Mary laughed. “You paint a pretty picture, Addie, but Luke’s and my likeness aren’t in your portraits.”

  Luke Jacobs kept her off-kilter. For a moment last night when they’d worked side by side in her kitchen singing softly, she’d again imagined what it would be like to have him for her husband. She gulped. How could she consider marriage to a man who was a mystery? For reasons she didn’t understand, she couldn’t share her suspicion with Addie that Luke hid something. Besides, she hadn’t come here to talk about him.

  “If I look unsettled, it’s because I’m unsure of what to do.” She laid a hand on Addie’s wrist. “I got accepted.”

  “Accepted?”

  “I told you I’d applied—”

  “Oh! Accepted into medical school?”

  Smiling at the joy on her sister-in-law’s face, Mary nodded. “I start classes in January.”

  “Congratulations!” Addie dropped the hat and hurried over to give Mary a hug. “I knew you’d get in. You’re bright. Why, you’re practically a doctor already.”

  Careful not to disturb Lily, Mary gave her a one-armed hug in return. “I hope attending medical school won’t harm the boys.”

  A baffled expression on her face, Addie returned to her chair. “That’s nonsense. It’s not like you’ll leave them for weeks at a time. You’ll be home every night.”

  A niggling of doubt slid through Mary. “Well, I will have lots of studying to do and occasionally I may have to stay overnight.”

  Addie picked up the hat she’d been working on. “Even so, you’re not abandoning your children. Charles and I will help all we can.”

  “You have three children and work two jobs. I can’t let you do that.”

  “Mary Graves, it’s high time you allowed someone to assist you for a change.”

  “At least my father has Frank Sloan to help in the practice once classes start.”

  Addie’s eyes lit. “Maybe two, if Luke is staying. Perhaps he’s planning on settling down with a certain someone.”

  Mary rolled her eyes heavenward. Why couldn’t Addie believe nothing of consequence existed between Mary and Luke? They clashed over too much. Luke Jacobs was opinionated and kept people at arm’s length. Not the man for her.

  So why did she feel so miserable? “Addie, my life is a mess. I’ve lost control of it.”

  “None of us have power over life’s circumstances.”

  Yet Mary struggled daily to have that very thing. “I know, but so much has happened that concerns me. I feel like I have my fist stuffed into a hole torn in a dam. I can’t stop the leak, can’t fix whatever is wrong, and have no time to decipher what the problem is.”

  “Is Michael worrying you?” Addie said. “William told me about the fight he had with Jimmy Augsburger.”

  “Yes.” Mary sighed. “And Philip still complains of stomachaches.”

  No matter what, Mary would make herself available to her sons. Help them deal with what troubled them. Another lump lodged in her stomach. With the rigors of school, would she be able to put them first? She’d prayed for guidance but didn’t have insight. Yet. Or did she just not want to accept it? “With all the boys are going through, maybe going to medical school is selfish.”

  Addie waved off Mary’s doubts. “Tell me why you want to be a doctor. Besides helping people—you’re already doing that.”

  “Lots of reasons. For one, I want to continue my father’s legacy.”

  “You’ve got plenty of time to do that.”

  “And I want to have something in my own right.” She ran a finger along the silky edge of Lily’s blanket. “Something I earned.”

  “That makes sense,” Addie agreed. “I like the feeling of accomplishment I get from my business.”

  “Yes, and to never again be dependent on anyone—”

  “Don’t you mean dependent on a man?”

  Mary shrugged. Sometimes she didn’t understand herself. How could she explain all these conflicting emotions to Addie?

  But Addie’s question nagged at her. Perhaps fear of depending on others was at the root of her desire to attend medical school. Sam had let her down a hundred times. If she became a doctor, did she believe she could be, with God’s help, her own pillar of strength?

  Lily stirred, blinked and yawned, such a sweet, innocent little thing, totally dependent on her parents to meet her every need. Mary’s sons might be years older, but they, too, depended on her and had problems she hadn’t unraveled.

  “Don’t use becoming a doctor as an excuse to go through life alone,” Addie said, tying off and then cutting the thread. “Marriage isn’t losing your independence. Marriage is a partnership.”

  Mary’s union had not been a partnership. Maybe with someone else…

  A wave of loneliness crashed over her, taking her by surprise. God’s plan for creation to go through life two by two gnawed at her midsection. If only she could find a trustworthy man, a man to share burdens, decisions and emergencies. A man who, by word and example, would train up a child in the way he should go. In many ways, a man like Luke, but Luke ran from commitment. He had no more interest in marrying than she did. He certainly hadn’t jumped at Philip’s proposal.

  Frank was interested in her. From what Mary had seen, he was an uncomplicated man free of the issues plaguing Luke. Yes, and also without Luke’s charm.

  “I have my sons,” she said softly, tucking a wisp of silken hair behind Lily’s tiny shell-like ear.

  “Children grow up. Faster than I want to admit.” Addie’s eyes glisten
ed. “You’re a passionate woman, Mary. Don’t be afraid to fall in love, to marry again one day.”

  She couldn’t take that chance, not with her sons’ lives at stake. They were old enough now to see through an attempt to conceal trouble. She could no longer pretend all was well if their world crumpled. “I’ve learned the hard way that marriage isn’t the panacea for happiness. I’m delighted for you and Charles. But I can’t risk that kind of misery with another man.”

  “And you think if you’re a doctor, you’ll have the financial independence and the sense of accomplishment, of worth, to fulfill you?” Addie shook her head. “Nothing compares to a good marriage, Mary. I run this shop and write editorials for The Ledger, but none of that comes close to the joy and satisfaction of my husband and children.” She smiled. “You’ve never known what it means to have a man love you above everything and everyone, except his God. I have that with Charles.” Her face glowed with contentment. “I want you to have it too.”

  Mary looked away. Addie’s happiness rubbed against her like coarse sandpaper. “The main reason I want to attend medical school has nothing to do with independence. I’ll discover the latest advancements in medicine.” She met Addie’s gaze. “Maybe learn something to explain why a man drank, when he clearly wanted to stop.”

  Addie’s eyes clouded. “Sam.”

  Tears pricked her eyes. “Sam hated himself for all of the times he let us down.” Her lack of clemency squeezed against her lungs. “Oh, Addie, even after his death, instead of forgiving Sam, I kept on blaming him, keeping the wound of our marriage open and festering.” She sighed. “I blame myself more for not seeing what lay ahead—before I married him, before it was too late.”

  “Don’t censure yourself. In the beginning, Sam hid his compulsion to drink.”

  By concocting excuses to take patent medicine. Mary swiped at her eyes. “But without Sam, I wouldn’t have Michael and Philip, our two wonderful sons. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”

  How often had Mary criticized Sam for drinking, for needing a crutch to handle his past, instead of turning to God for healing? Yet, she hadn’t handled her birth parents’ rejection. How could she blame Sam for not handling the beatings at the hand of the man who gave him life?