Prairie Romance Collection

by Cathy Marie Hake

  “I know you, Matthew. You’re a good, good man who could never live with himself if something happens to her and you didn’t even try.”

  “How can you say that?” he cried, despairing of making her understand. “My own wife and baby are dead because of my incompetence. Don’t you think I tried then? But I couldn’t save them. Why do you think this time will be any different?”

  “Please. Please, Matthew.” Emma slid to her knees before him, the hay stubble crackling under her weight. “I beg of you. Maureen is the only friend I have.”

  In a posture of pure supplication she knelt before him, ripping his heart in two.

  “Stop it, Emma. Get up.” He gripped her narrow shoulders, tugging, but she only bowed deeper into the hay. When she began to pray, Matthew almost collapsed beside her.

  “Heavenly Father, You know everything. You know why Matthew’s wife and baby died. You know how he’s suffered over their loss. And You know how desperately Kathryn needs him right now. Please, dear Lord, take the scales from his eyes. Let him recognize the calling on his life to minister to the sick. Give him the strength and courage to fight through this fear of failure and come out victorious. I love him, Jesus. I want him to be happy, to have the peace he lost when Martha died. It means so much to him, and he’s fought it for so long. Please, Lord. Open his eyes.” And she began to weep.

  The gaping wound inside Matthew began to bleed afresh. He’d thought he could lose himself here on the farm with Emma and never have to think of medicine again. Instead, it haunted him, the only unresolved need in his life.

  “Emma, I’ll go.” Bending, Matthew lifted her trembling body and held her close, murmuring against her hair. “If it means that much to you, I’ll go. If you’ll go with me.”

  Stiffening, she drew back, regarding him with anxious eyes. Though for different reasons, she was every bit as afraid as he.

  “I need you, Emma. I can’t do it alone.”

  Drawing in a deep, shuddering breath, she lifted her chin, aiming it toward Goodhope. “All right, then. I’ll pray. You drive.”

  Drying her eyes, she clambered aboard the loaded hay wagon.

  Stomach churning, pulse pounding, Matthew hammered on the back door of Jimmy O’Dell’s general store, the portion of the building where the family resided. Emma stood beside him, her face pale, gripping the medical bag he’d dug from its hiding place in the barn.

  “What are you doing here?” The disheveled Irishman opened the door. “The store is closed for the day.”

  “I’m a doctor, Mr. O’Dell. I’ve come to help your wife.”

  “A doctor, you say?” His astonished blue gaze went from Matt to the bag in Emma’s hands.

  “Yes. A doctor. I understand your wife is having the baby.”

  A muffled cry from the room’s interior turned O’Dell around. “Aye. Aye. She’s trying.” In agitation, he ran a hand over his balding head. “‘tis a bad time of it she’s having, too. Worst I’ve seen.”

  “Are you going to let me help her or keep us standing out here while she suffers?”

  “You’re really a doctor, then?” O’Dell asked, his expression dubious.

  “I said I was.” Annoyance rapidly replaced Matt’s fear. If O’Dell didn’t let him in soon, he’d turn around and go home, his conscience clear that he’d tried.

  “Da, what’s going on?” Maureen’s worried face appeared behind her father. “Emma! Matt! Whatever are you doing?”

  “Claims he’s a doctor. Wants to see your ma.”

  “For pity’s sake, Da. He’s the answer to our prayers. Let him in.”

  “It’s little choice I have, but he comes alone. Not with her. I’ll not have that crazy woman in my house. We’ve trouble enough as it is.”

  Matt’s patience snapped. With teeth gritted he leaned toward the storekeeper. “You self-righteous man. After all you’ve done to hurt her, it was Emma who convinced me to come. Now you can either let us both in, or we’ll get back in that wagon and leave you to manage on your own.”

  “Da, we’ve prayed and prayed for a doctor, and now that he’s here, you’re wanting to turn him out? When Ma is needing his help so badly?” Maureen elbowed around her father and grabbed Emma’s hand, pulling her inside. Matt followed, feeling the anger of Jimmy O’Dell as he brushed past.

  “If anything happens to Kathryn and me babe, I’ll have your hide, Matthew Tolivar. And that loony wife of yours will be locked away like she should have been long ago.” His venomous tirade was cut short by a cry from the bedroom. In a rush of concern, Matt and Emma left Jimmy to fume and hurried into the bedroom where an older version of Maureen writhed on the bed.

  Sweat broke out on Matthew’s palms as the image of Martha flashed through his mind. If he failed again, if Kathryn died, he didn’t know if he could go on.

  Emma, feeling his tension, lay a hand on his. “Guide him, Jesus. Give him wisdom.”

  The simple prayer lifted him. He wasn’t in this alone.

  “Mrs. O’Dell,” he said, going to her side. “My name is Matthew Tolivar. I’m a doctor. I’m going to help you deliver this baby.” He turned to his two assistants. “We’ll need boiled string and scissors, lots of towels or rags, and some warmed blankets for the baby.”

  “‘Tis ready and waiting whenever you say, Doctor.”

  The title sounded good, stoking his courage. He was a doctor, a trained physician with the skill to do this. Emma and Maureen bustled around the room, doing his bidding, praying out loud, while he examined the patient. To his horror, something was amiss. The baby was there, ready to be born, but even a strong contraction didn’t push the infant forward. The mother worried him, too. Except for an occasional moan or the sudden arch of her body, Kathryn was listless. Her eyes were closed, her face pale and moist.

  “She’s giving out, Doctor. I don’t know how she’ll manage the strength to finish.”

  Matt rummaged in the worn medical bag. It had been so long since he’d opened it, but the familiar tools were all inside. Struggling not to think of the last time he’d used them, he handed a pair of forceps to Maureen. “I’ll try not to use these, but I want them boiled just in case.”

  Not every physician agreed that cleanliness was important, but Matt subscribed to Dr. Lister’s notion that invisible microbes spread infection. Though he had no carbolic for disinfectant, the boiling water would help. He just wished he had some ether. Taking a baby with forceps was a difficult procedure, but under the circumstances, he was afraid it might be the only choice he’d have. Mrs. O’Dell had given up the battle, and the baby would suffer damage in the birth canal if he waited too long.

  Taking out his stethoscope, he listened to Kathryn’s chest.

  “Her heart is strong,” he said with relief. “If she just has the strength to help us a few more times…”

  Quietly Emma eased to the bedside and grasped Kathryn’s pale, puffy hand. “Kathryn, dear, do you remember how you helped me when Lily was born?”

  Matt’s head whipped around in surprise. She’d never told him that.

  Emma’s sweet, gentle voice continued. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Now I’ve come to return the favor. You’re almost there, my friend. Just a little more and you can hold your sweet, precious babe in your arms.”

  The pale eyelids fluttered upward.

  “That’s right. We’re going to do it together. Maureen and I will lift your shoulders and Dr. Tolivar will do the rest.”

  With a flicker of resolve, Kathryn nodded slightly. As the contraction began, Matt reexamined his patient, ready to forcibly deliver the child. What he felt sent a jolt of panic shooting through him.

  “Stop!” he cried. “Don’t push.” Tension knotted his neck and shoulders. His breath grew short and perspiration bathed his face.

  The cord was wrapped, not once, but twice around the baby’s neck. Any further pushing would strangle the child to death. He remembered this terror all too well. Only extremely skilled hands and the grace
of God could save the O’Dell baby. Matt squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.

  Please, Jesus, help me to help her.

  When he opened his eyes, a strange sense of calm came over him. Moving quickly and efficiently, he worked the tightly wound cord over the slippery little head with one hand while holding back the force of nature with the other. It was difficult, tedious work, and time was against them.

  The string of tension in the room bound them all, so that when, at last, the noose was removed, a collective sigh of relief issued from Emma and Maureen. Matt knew better than to relax. At the next contraction, the tiny infant slid into the world, blue and flaccid.

  “Oh no,” Maureen cried, hands grasping for Emma.

  “Breathe, baby girl.” Matt ran a finger inside the lax mouth then placed his own lips over the child’s and blew gently. The baby gave a shudder then sucked in a chestful of air. Matt swatted her bottom twice and received a mewling cry in return. The wonder of it brought tears to his eyes.

  “Thank You, Jesus,” Emma whispered. Matthew’s heart echoed the sentiment. He rubbed the baby’s back, checking her over, waiting until the even breathing and pink hues of health assured him that she was all right. Then he wrapped her in a warmed blanket and handed her to Maureen.

  “She’s a little thing,” he said as he turned back to the exhausted mother. “We’ll have to watch her close, keep her good and warm, but I think she’ll make it.”

  “I’ll go and tell Da. He’s worried sick.”

  During Maureen’s absence, Matt and Emma cared for their patient and were immensely relieved to know that she’d weathered the delivery with no further ill effects. Rest and good food would soon have her well again. Matthew knew a sense of accomplishment he hadn’t felt in years.

  “I’ll be back to check on you first thing tomorrow,” Matt promised as he carefully placed the tools of his trade back inside the black bag. “You stay in that bed and let the rest of the family look after you for a while.”

  “Aye, she’ll do that. I’ll see to it meself.” Jimmy came into the bedroom, cradling the tiny bundle in his arms. He shifted nervously from one foot to the other. “I’m a proud man, Tolivar. Apologies don’t come easy. But you’ve got one coming, so I’m giving it to you. We needed you here today, and you came, knowing I’d fight you tooth and toenail. Still, you came. I’m grateful.”

  “You can thank Emma for that,” Matt said stiffly, not ready to forgive the man who’d caused his wife so much grief.

  “Then I do.” He turned to Emma, expression sheepish. “Maureen told me how you helped the missus. Thank you.”

  “I’m the one who’s grateful, Mr. O’Dell,” she said in her sweetest voice. “Seeing that little girl of yours come into the world was a special privilege.”

  Jimmy cleared his throat. When he spoke again, his voice was gruff. “If you folks want to come to church on Sunday, I’ll stand up for you.”

  Matthew watched the change come over Emma’s face. Unlike Matt, she bore her detractors no animosity, no bitterness, just a Christlike love he still didn’t understand. But after today, he wanted to learn.

  By the time Emma and Matt arrived at church on Sunday morning, the service was about to begin. As they slipped quietly into a back pew, heads turned to stare. Tensing, ready to take Emma and escape before any trouble began, Matt glared back at the people of Goodhope. A few tentative smiles and a head bob here and there told him that, today, the crowd was friendly. He relaxed, squeezing Emma’s cold hand. No one was going to hurt her anymore.

  As the organist began to play, the O’Dell family filed in and, seeing the Tolivars, slid onto the bench beside them.

  “How’s your mother?” Emma whispered.

  “Getting stronger. The baby, too,” Maureen whispered in return.

  Matt leaned forward. “We’ll come by after church.”

  Maureen smiled and nodded as they all quieted, turning their attention to the service. The song master led them in hymns that seemed especially sweet to Matt that morning. His prayers seemed to go straight up to heaven, so thrilled was he to worship freely with other Christians and the woman he loved.

  When Pastor Jeffers took the pulpit, his sermon, not surprisingly, was on forgiveness. “Now you folks all know what I’m talking about today,” he said toward the end. “We all need forgiveness from the Lord and, at times, from each other. Things have happened this week to wake us up to the fact that we’ve done wrong by a young couple in our community.”

  A few dozen pairs of eyes swiveled toward the back pew. Emma sat with head down, an almost holy smile on her lips.

  “For months,” the reverend went on, “we’ve prayed for a doctor. Finally, the Lord sees fit to send us one, and we treat his wife so badly, he’s not even willing to tell us who he is. We’ve been stiff-necked, passing judgment on Emma, when who better to judge her mental state than a doctor who spends every day with her? If any of you still have doubts, I believe Floyd Anderson has a word or two to say about it.”

  Near the front, a man with a noticeable limp stood and hobbled forward. “I wasn’t here the last time the Tolivars came to church, or I’d a-told this then.” He scratched at his beard and went on. “All of you know the hard time me and thewife had after I busted my leg. I’m a proud man, don’t like to ask for help, but if it hadn’t been for Emma Tolivar, I reckon we would’ve starved. All them times someone saw her sneaking over to my house, she was bringing groceries. She didn’t want to cause me no embarrassment. That woman’s heart is gold, I tell you. She’s a pure saint if ever there was one.”

  With an expression that dared anyone to argue, Floyd clumped back to his pew. Matt was hard-pressed not to smile at the man’s feisty attitude even while he was grateful for what was said. Now he knew for certain where Emma went on her early morning walks. No doubt, the Andersons weren’t the only recipients of her generosity.

  “I got something to say myself, Parson.” Jimmy O’Dell rose. “Most of you have already heard about my wife and baby, and how the doctor here and his little wife saved their lives. If it wasn’t for them, I’d be in mourning. That’s all I got to say.” With a self-conscious swipe at his nose, he sat down.

  Emma’s eyes shone suspiciously as she listened to the total change of public sentiment. More powerful than any medicine, acceptance was a healing balm.

  “Dr. Tolivar, this town needs a man of your skills.” Parson Jeffers’s boots thudded softly on the wooden floor as he came to stand beside Emma and Matt. Every person in the building either stood or turned to watch. “Could the two of you find it in your hearts to forgive us? And, sir, would you consent to be our doctor?”

  Pulse pounding, Matt rose to his feet, pulling Emma up beside him. “My wife is the most forgiving person I know. She’s never borne you any resentment for the way she was treated. I, on the other hand, have had a bit more difficulty.” He gazed fondly at his wife. “Emma here tells me I’ll never be content until I let the past go and get back to medicine. Emma’s a wise woman.” He extended a hand to the preacher. “I’d be proud to serve as Goodhope’s physician.”

  Rousing applause echoed through the room until the organist struck a jarring chord then stood and said, “Thank the good Lord for that. I don’t know what we’d do with all the food we cooked if you refused us. You young folks didn’t even have a proper shivaree when you was wed, so we figured we’d have us a town celebration in your honor and cover the whole shebang, new doctor, new married couple, and the O’Dells’ new baby all in one whack.”

  The congregation laughed and began to rise, filing slowly out onto the lawn where makeshift tables were set up beneath the trees. As they followed, talking with the well-wishers, the joy on Emma’s face was reflected in Matthew’s heart. This was what he’d been looking for, what he’d longed for, and the crazy widow of Goodhope had been the answer to his prayers.

  Filled with the kind of happiness he’d never thought possible, Matt took Emma’s hand and started across the grass. Halfw
ay to the shade trees, right in view of the whole town, Emma stopped. “Wait.”

  She pulled off her shoes then whirled her husband in a circle, laughing. Matt smiled at his beautiful barefoot wife.

  “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” she teased.

  “That’s not what I think at all.”

  “What, then?”

  “I was thinking of the day I came here, bound by my own guilty past, unable to laugh, a lost and wounded man. And you showed me a better way.”

  Relishing the brand of freedom she’d taught him, Matt removed his own boots and tossed them high into the air with an exultant shout. A moment of stunned silence settled over the churchyard.

  “Well, what are you looking at? Ain’t you all got feet?” Jimmy O’Dell plunked himself down on the ground and yanked off his boots so fast the socks came with them. With a cry of delight, Maureen mirrored her father, kicking her shoes into the tree overhead.

  The startled looks turned to chuckles. Then, one by one, the people of Goodhope followed suit, discarding boots and slippers, until the whole town was barefoot, and laughing, and dancing…and crazy with the joy of the Lord.

  LINDA GOODNIGHT and her husband, Gene, live on a farm in their native Oklahoma. They have a blended family of six grown children. An elementary school teacher forthe past sixteen years, Linda is a licensed nurse.

  The Provider

  by Cathy Marie Hake

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my parents,

  Roy and Elvera Smith.

  Even when Daddy held no spiritual commitment,

  Mom was a steadfast believer.

  God used her faithfulness to woo Daddy

  until he accepted Christ.

  The Lord has blessed them and

  used them in mighty ways.

  For your example, your love and prayers,

  and even for the discipline,

  thanks, Mom and Dad.

  Chapter 1