“Don’t women care about modesty anymore?”
“Not much. Stop trying to change the subject. The dress is pretty and modest. You just want to make excuses.” Sadzi stepped behind her and started playing with Gwyn’s hair. “What kind of hairstyle do you want? What do you think Jeremiah would like?”
“I am not going to the celebration to impress Jeremiah. I’m going to be part of the community.”
Sadzi huffed.
Gwyn ignored her. “Besides, he probably won’t even be there. They’ve had their hands full at the clinic.” She picked at a piece of lint on her pants.
“Gwyn! Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?”
Was it? Probably. Sadzi always had a way of getting right to the heart of a matter. “Father used to need me to assist him on everything. Now he has Jeremiah. They spend all their time together, and all these trusted looks pass between them. I hate feeling this way. My father has poured everything he has into that clinic.”
“And you’ve always loved him for it.” Sadzi leaned around her shoulder. “You’ve also been right there with him. You love it as much as he does.”
Gwyn sighed. That was true.
“So I’m thinking it’s more that you feel a little abandoned.”
Abandoned. Now, there was a word she knew well.
Her friend walked around her and sat back on the bed. “And it feels like your mother all over again.”
Tears pricked Gwyn’s eyes once again. She nodded. “But I know it’s different. Father’s not unhappy. He’s not angry and complaining about everything. And I know he’s not going to leave. I know he loves me. It’s just . . .”
The pause stretched between them.
“What?”
“He doesn’t need me anymore.”
It was Sadzi’s turn to nod.
“My mother never needed me,” Gwyn went on, “and then one day she didn’t want me either. I just don’t want to go through the same thing with my father. What if it turns into that?”
Once again, Sadzi hugged her. And then she thumped Gwyn on the forehead with her finger. “Nasnana is right. You worry too much.” She bounced off the bed and went right back to sorting through Gwyn’s clothes.
Gwyn shook her head. If only things were solved as easily as Sadzi thought.
13
“Please, Nasnana.” Gwyn clasped her hands in front of her the next morning and shot a conspiratorial look to Sadzi. “Will you please come with me?”
“I don’t know, dear.” The older woman shook her head. “I’m not sure if enough people are comfortable with us yet, and I only came home to get a change of clothes.”
“But so many of the women love you. They’ve seen your kindness to Rose and to others.”
“That may be true, Gwyn, but these things take time.”
“But this is for the community. And you and Sadzi were part of this community before it even started.” Her begging didn’t seem to be working. Maybe she needed to try another tactic. “I’d appreciate the company as well. Maybe Clarence will leave me be if you come.”
Sadzi winked at her. “Please, Grandmother. I want to go, yes, but I’d also like to be there to protect Gwyn. Clarence won’t leave her alone.”
Nasnana shot them both a scolding glance. “All right, all right. Your little plan worked. We’ll all go to the celebration. But I will not promise to stay long, and I will be checking on Rose.”
“Thank you.” Sadzi escorted her grandmother into the other room to help her get ready.
Gwyn’s heart did a little leap. Her one wish for the day was to have a chance to talk to Jeremiah. And she hoped it wouldn’t be about patients or the clinic.
They arrived a little late, but people were milling about, chatting and smiling. The wooden post sign declaring Welcome to Valley City greeted everyone at the event. No one seemed bothered by Gwyn’s guests. Her father approached, and she spotted a large group of men rushing the train. Some even climbed in the windows.
“What’s going on, Father?”
He sighed. “Oh, seventy-five of the transient workers resigned and are heading back home.”
“Seventy-five? How on earth will they get the houses and town buildings up in time?”
Her father patted her arm. “It will be all right. Not to worry. A lot of these men didn’t have any idea what they were getting into, just like some of the colonists.”
Her father’s words were all too true. Once Mr. Carr arrived, he’d gotten an earful of complaints. She’d been there for the first meeting, but the complaints were from just a few people. A couple of the families complained that there wasn’t any running water to the tents. Then another mother came forward and said she had just learned to conserve water. She even went on to tell Mr. Carr that she didn’t mind all four of her boys using the same bath water once a week. At least she could be thankful that she could bathe them! Many other families had laughed along with her as they tried to stay positive. But there had been complaints from workers too. They’d had to go without baths for three weeks, until twelve showers were erected.
Gwyn realized her father was still talking.
“And it’s been a lot of hard work. Don Irwin has assured everyone that they have more workers on the way and everything will be fine. We definitely don’t want to dampen anyone’s spirits on this special day.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I’ve got to get back to the patients but wanted to get some fresh air. I’m glad I caught you. I’m not sure if I’ll see you again today.”
As he walked back to the clinic, Gwyn’s heart sank a little. If her father couldn’t leave the patients for very long, then Jeremiah probably wouldn’t be able to either. The thought depressed her. More than she would have liked. She wanted to prove to him that she was all right—that she was just as strong and capable as she had been before finding Daniel dead. Now, along with her thoughts of his gentle comfort, she felt ashamed for the way she’d reacted. Medical personnel should never be given over to such fits. Jeremiah would think her completely incompetent. She had to assure him that wasn’t the truth.
Their little trio walked further into the crowds, and Gwyn spotted Don Irwin. The man the ARRC had put in charge as general manager over the project seemed to be handling things well. And if he said more help was on the way, then she wouldn’t worry. They still had plenty of time before winter arrived. If everyone worked hard, they could do it.
The barbecue was well under way, and the colonists were gathered around makeshift picnic tables. Several of the community buildings had been started, and most of the people seemed content. As the train pulled out, Gwyn thought of how desperate the men must be to leave in such a rush. Had something else happened?
Sadzi tugged on her sleeve and whispered in her ear, “Look, it’s Jeremiah. He seems to be looking for someone. I’ll bet he’s looking for you.”
Gwyn felt her stomach flip. “If he needs to speak with me, he will.” She felt rather nervous at the thought of the very encounter she had hoped for. She took hold of Sadzi’s arm. “Come on. The food smells delicious.”
“Oh, you aren’t any fun at all,” Sadzi whined. “Don’t look now—he’s watching you.”
“Well, stop staring at him, you goose. He’s probably just wondering why you are watching him.” It sounded like a good argument, even to herself, but that didn’t stop her heart from picking up its pace.
“Where did Grandmother go off to?”
They scanned the crowd. “I’m not sure. She hasn’t said anything since we left your house.”
“She’s probably found someone who needed help, or she’s with Rose. I’m sure we’ll find her.” Sadzi squeezed her arm again. “Oh, look. That man over there is very nice looking. So tall and muscular. Ooh, he has a mustache too.”
“Would you stop it?” Gwyn giggled. “You’re worse than most of the kids. I thought you were looking for Nasnana.”
“I am.”
“Good excuse. You forget that I know you all too well.” Gwyn
greeted some of the ladies who were carrying dirty plates toward one of the neat white tents. “Hmm, I’ll bet Nasnana has found a way to pitch in. It’d be just like her to tackle a pile of dirty dishes so no one else has to do them.”
“You’re probably right. Grandmother always said idle hands were the devil’s workshop. She’ll probably come looking for us to help. Oh, look!” Sadzi pointed. “They’re playing baseball. I think it’s so much fun to watch that game. I don’t know how all the rules work, but it looks like great fun.”
“I suppose it does,” Gwyn admitted. “I heard there will be fireworks tonight. I haven’t seen any of those since I was very young. I always thought they were so pretty. But if they wait until it’s dark, that will be the middle of the night.” While she was used to the long daylight hours, she wondered if the men were planning to shoot off the fireworks while it was still light—which was almost all night long at this time of year.
“Come on, let’s watch the game for a little while. We can help Grandmother later. Besides, maybe she’s just visiting with someone.”
Jeremiah finally caught sight of Gwyn and made his way through the crowd. He hadn’t had a chance to speak with her since the death of baby Daniel. He waited nearby until he saw Sadzi step away to get popcorn and then made his move.
“I thought I might never find you.”
Gwyn looked up at him, her eyes wide in surprise. “I . . . uh . . . I didn’t know you were looking for me. Is there a problem? Is someone hurt?”
“No problem. I just . . . I wanted to see how you were. I mean, the last time we spoke—”
She held up her hand. “Please, the last time we spoke, I was completely unprofessional. I have wanted to apologize for it ever since.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
She waved her hands in a casual manner. “I mean the way I went on about Daniel’s death and Rose. I didn’t handle that well at all, and I’m afraid you bore the brunt of my . . . well . . . my fit.”
“You were upset. You had a right to react. A baby had just died.” He didn’t understand why she was acting this way. He had rather enjoyed their time together, had enjoyed holding her in his arms and offering comfort.
“I know, but it’s not like it’s the first time I’ve seen someone die.” Gwyn fixed him with a most serious expression. “I’m trained to help heal people. My father made it clear to me that medical folks can’t allow their emotions to get the best of them. We aren’t of any use to people when we’re falling apart like I did.”
“But you didn’t fall apart with the patient. You didn’t begin to cry until you were out of the tent—with me.”
Gwyn nodded. “Yes, but I should have managed my reaction better. I should have stayed to help you and Nasnana. I want you to know that I’m sorry. I hope you don’t think less of me.”
Jeremiah didn’t quite know what to think. He didn’t think less of her. If anything, he thought more highly of Gwyn Hillerman. She was a woman of feeling and compassion. She sorrowed over the loss of an infant. Nurse or not, she had every right to her feelings.
He wanted to say something more but could see that Gwyn had returned her gaze to the game, and Sadzi approached with her newly procured popcorn.
“I suppose I should get back to the clinic,” Jeremiah murmured.
“Hello, Jeremiah,” Sadzi called in greeting. “Are you enjoying the celebration?”
He looked from her to Gwyn, still watching the game, and then back to Sadzi. “It’s been interesting but a bit confusing.”
“Oh, you aren’t familiar with baseball either?” Sadzi asked. “I thought I was the only one. I can tell you what I know, but it isn’t much.”
He smiled and shook his head. “No. I understand baseball just fine. It’s the rest of the world that confuses me. Especially the female occupants of it.”
A black cloud descended on the colony. It had been only eight days since the celebration of America’s independence. But within forty-eight hours, four children died in camp eight. Jeremiah sat on a stump outside the clinic, his eyes stinging.
A few days ago, he’d been elated to deliver the first baby to be born in the colony. As he’d held little Laura Norena Van Wormer, his thoughts went to Gwyn. For the first time in a long time, Jeremiah longed for a family of his own. But was that even possible anymore? His future was all based on lies here in Alaska.
And then the deaths of the children. Without adequate sanitation and the remoteness of the camps, when one child got sick, it quickly spread. This time it had been measles and polio. Another baby was at the hospital in Anchorage—the measles had progressed into pneumonia.
Thirteen families left that day. And the reason hung thick in the summer air: They didn’t want to watch their children die too.
The weight of the loss pushed Jeremiah into a dark place. Where was God in all this? Couldn’t He have saved those children? Couldn’t He help them get the correct supplies and provide them with a vehicle to be able to reach people faster?
The train whistle sounded in the distance. The colony was shrouded in sadness—the loss of children, the loss of friends.
“Jeremiah?” Dr. H. stood beside him.
Jeremiah wiped his eyes. “Sorry, do you need me?”
“No, no. I’m just concerned for you. This hasn’t been easy.”
Words wouldn’t come. While Jeremiah had known the loss of patients, including baby Daniel, he hadn’t lost children—children he’d laughed with, played games with. Maybe coming to this small community hadn’t been a good idea. Maybe he needed to give up medicine altogether.
“I can see this tearing you up, and I’m sorry. But we’ve got to keep faith. God is still in control.”
Jeremiah looked long at his mentor. Dr. Harold Hillerman had aged during the past few weeks. More lines creased his forehead and around his eyes than before. “I know you think that, Dr. H., but I’m not so sure anymore. The past few months have been horrible for me, and most of it, God could have fixed. But I’m guessing I’m not worthy enough for Him to intercede on my behalf.” He stood, paced. “Maybe that’s why those children are dead. God is punishing me. I shouldn’t be here.”
“What on earth are you saying, son?” Harold put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not making sense. God isn’t punishing you. We did everything we could with the little time we had with those kids—”
At that moment one of the ARRC trucks raced up to the clinic. Mr. Carr and another man stepped out. “Dr. Hillerman, I’d like you to meet Dr. Earl Albrecht. He’s been at the railroad hospital in Anchorage for a few weeks and has agreed to stay on here at the colony to help out. Dr. Romig and Colonel Ohlson made arrangements for him to use the speeder to get him here. They heard about the deaths and want to help us with medical care for the colony.”
Dr. H. shook the other doctor’s hand. “Thank you for coming, Doctor. We can use the help.” Dr. H. sighed and Jeremiah sensed his relief—their workload had increased in recent days—but he found himself a little hesitant. Where was Dr. Albrecht from? What if he knew physicians in Chicago? Could he have heard about Jeremiah’s license being revoked?
Eugene Carr continued, “We’ve also made arrangements for the colony’s community building to be converted to a hospital. We will assist in moving everything from the clinic there immediately, if that’s all right with you.”
Harold nodded. “I’ve been saying for some time that we need to move closer to the town center.”
“We’ve brought cots, mattresses, linens, and an abundance of medicine.” Dr. Albrecht stepped forward. “They were also gracious to send three additional nurses. You’ll meet them at the hospital.”
“Thank you,” Dr. H. said. “This will be huge for the community.”
Jeremiah watched the interaction. He didn’t recognize Dr. Albrecht. Hopefully he wasn’t from anywhere near Chicago.
He shook his head. There were children dying, and he was worried about himself. What kind of selfish man was he? He he
aded inside to grab his medical bag. There were several chicken pox patients he wanted to keep a close eye on in camp six.
As Dr. H. and Dr. Albrecht instructed the workers to load up the truck, Eugene Carr stopped Jeremiah. “Son, I’m not sure we’ve had the chance to talk.”
“I apologize, Mr. Carr, but I do need to check on some of our patients.” He attempted to leave.
“I totally understand. I was just curious as to where you gained your medical training.”
The question burned a hole in Jeremiah’s back. His first instinct was to keep walking, but if he ignored the man sent by the president, that could give him away. “Chicago,” he threw over his shoulder.
“Oh, so you probably know Randolph Brewster?”
The commissioner’s words stopped him cold. And for a moment, Jeremiah couldn’t breathe.
A worker ran toward them. “Mr. Carr? They need you at the office.”
“Excuse me, Jeremiah.”
The relief of the interruption was short-lived. It wouldn’t take much for Eugene Carr to learn the truth.
14
The mosquitoes swarmed. Gwyn pulled her netting closer in around her neck. With all the clearing the construction crews were doing, the pests were worse than ever. Every time a stump was pulled up, thousands more of the almost-bird-sized bugs emerged.
But other than the Buhach powder they burned and the netting, there wasn’t anything they could do until winter killed off the pesky bloodsuckers. Both people and animals suffered—no one was exempt. A couple of the men had even taken to making a paste out of the Buhach and putting it on their faces as they worked.
Gwyn reached into the dirt with a hoe. She was helping the women at camp four with their garden. Since the arrival of Dr. Albrecht and the other nurses and the moving of their clinic, she’d been able to spend more time in the camps. She missed working at her father’s side, but with professionally trained nurses now able to assist, she was content to work in the fresh air. Besides, the more time she spent at the hospital, the more Dr. Vaughan distracted her. He occupied such a large portion of her thoughts that it couldn’t be healthy for her to be around him too often. She didn’t want to have her heart broken if he didn’t return her growing feelings.
All Things Hidden Page 15
