Nearly a dozen hens fluttered and hopped about as Enoch opened the small door and came out into the yard. “Good morning, Karl!” he called.
“It’s not a good morning; it’s a great morning.” When he’d started over to the barn, he’d savored the sense of rightness and peace within his spirit. Suddenly, another emotion joined it: elation. He’d always tended toward being optimistic, but this differed from that. He’d lived on the edge of darkness for years, and now Light flooded his soul. “You’re the first to know what a fine day it is.”
Enoch grinned. “Did you win another hammer toss against Piet?”
“Far better than that. I didn’t walk over here alone. I’m walking with the Savior again.”
“Praise God!” They went into the barn and Enoch gladly listened to his testimony, then they prayed together.
Afterward, Karl looked around. “What do you have going on here?”
“A horse with lampas. Some places, the blacksmith does the equine dentistry. Other places, the liveryman acts as the ‘hoss doctor.’ It’s a nasty case. I thought to have you assist me.”
“Ask Smith. He’s the expert around here. Till you came, he kept the animals patched together as best he could. For lampas, he favored stabbing the roof of the horse’s mouth with a hot stick. The first time I saw him do it, I thought it was barbaric, but he didn’t have anything else on hand to use. Second time, he could have used something different and just plain didn’t bother. I didn’t have the stomach to watch a third. Struck me as a cure being worse’n the problem.”
“Ah. Now it all makes sense. He made it clear that he voted against my coming, and he’s been hardhearted to Taylor. Our arrival equated with a loss of income for him, but Lloyd working for me helps make up for it.”
“Whatever he earned was under false pretenses. He was the animal’s equivalent to that quack Doc Wicky. Piet says you needed to tell me something.” He patted his leg and ordered, “Skyler, stay put.”
An odd expression crossed Enoch’s face. He glanced down at Skyler. “Actually, I need to show you something. Come over here.” They walked to the far corner of a stall, and Enoch squatted down.
Karl hunkered down, too, and nearly lost his balance when he caught sight of what was in the box. “Those pups are—”
“Nursing off a cat. Accepting mamas, cats are—I’ve seen one nurse skunk kits.” Enoch studied his expression. “So that’s not what you noticed. Blood shows—or doesn’t, as the case may be. White was counting on selling off Queenie’s pups. He’s fit to be tied.”
“Her litters bring top dollar. She’s the best coon dog for miles around. Only this time . . .” Karl lifted a mewling little puppy and a rueful chuckle rumbled free. “This isn’t a purebred. Nowhere near pure. Handsome rascal.”
“You ought to think so.” Enoch swiped the puppy. “Skyler’s the sire. First couple of weeks, it wasn’t readily apparent, but it’s glaring now, and White was set to drown them.”
Outrage surged. “Not while I’m still breathing!”
“They won’t suit his needs, so they’re worthless to him.” Mewling and grunting, the pup tried to nip Enoch’s fingertip, so he stuck him back in the box. “One of the kids brought in the litter. They’ll fare well enough since the cat has plenty of milk.”
Widow O’Toole entered the barn, a covered birdcage in her arms. “Doc Enoch, could you please come take a peek at Goldie?” She pulled the cover off the cage, and the canary let out a poor excuse for a song. “She was fine just yesterday. I love her so. Millie and Daniel gave her to me, you know.”
While Enoch went to examine the canary, Karl sat in the hay and stole the pups one at a time for a good look. White was an idiot. He didn’t get exactly what he had expected, but how could he ever want to do away with these helpless little balls of fluff? They’d undoubtedly be as smart as could be and easy to train. Good with children. Delightful and loyal, too. Certainly a far sight better looking than anything Queenie ever had before.
Goldie let out a trill. “Oh, that’s so much better! I can’t believe I missed that thread. What a horrifying accident. It could have cost Goldie her life.”
“She probably thought it was a worm.” Enoch sounded quite soothing. “I’ll carry her cage back for you. It must have grown heavy for you. Before we go, you might take a look over in that stall. Karl’s got puppies.”
“Puppies?” A moment later, Widow O’Toole was kneeling in the straw and hay beside him. “May I?” She didn’t wait for an answer but scooped up a pair. “Aren’t they beautiful? They favor Skyler.”
“Ja, they do.” Karl couldn’t hide the pride in his voice.
Enoch crooked a brow. “White was ready to drown them because they favor Skyler.”
“That dreadful man. Just yesterday he told that new family that’s moving here to have Velma deliver their baby because no one could trust a woman doctor. Is there no end to the paltry hearts and narrow minds some of these men are showing?” Cradling the puppies close, she cooed, “At least you don’t know they’re being mean. Poor Dr. Bestman—she’s getting the same treatment. Men look at the outward appearance and judge her as being less than what they want. According to them, she’s not good enough for them to sign on as a patient—never mind the facts that she’s far better educated and has proven her skill several times over by now.”
“Beginning with my surgery,” Karl tacked on.
“And Mr. Toomel’s shoulder. After each time, more folks saw reason.” Widow O’Toole made an aggravated sound. “Even so, at this rate, there won’t be anywhere near a hundred names on the list by March.”
“I’ve covered Goldie’s cage.” Enoch looked over the stall gate at them. “The barn’s far too drafty for her. I’ll carry her back to your place for you.”
“Thank you.” She popped to her feet quite spryly and followed Enoch outside.
Karl didn’t move. Thoughts assailed him. Taylor was better educated, more competent and cultured, and more forgiving than anyone else in town . . . her brother included. If she’d been male, the mayor would have sprained his shoulder, patting himself on the back for his town attracting such a professional. If anyone had been tested by fire and proven their mettle, surely it was she.
Anguish twisted within him. Some of that fire is my fault. Because she’s different, I first didn’t support her. Remaining silent is just as wrong as to do the wrong deed. It’s impossible to remain neutral in the face of prejudice or cruelty, and that’s truly what it boils down to. I’m just as wrong as those men who don’t want a woman doctor and refuse to sign up on her list of patients. Even worse because I didn’t think. I purposefully didn’t see or hear anything. She knew I wasn’t walking with Christ and still befriended me, yet I never once considered that I would be an unsuitable mate because I was a prodigal son. Lord, never let me forget that loving Taylor means embracing all she isn’t, just as it means accepting her for all she is.
“Well . . .” Enoch’s voice broke into his thoughts. “What do you think?”
“I want Taylor to have the pick of the litter.”
“In the long run, it wouldn’t be a bad idea for her to have a dog. Until things simmer down, I want to hire you to guard my sister.”
“No need. I’m going to marry her.”
Christmas fell on a Sunday, and it was the most beautiful Christmas Enoch had ever seen. He set Heidi down on the church steps. “Wait inside for Mommy and me.” He walked back over to the boardwalk in front of the boardinghouse and held out his arms. “Here we go.”
Mercy looked over at him. “I feel ridiculous.”
“Feel cherished.” He swept her up. “There’s no way I’m having any wife I love walk through the mud to church.”
“And how many wives do you have?”
He laughed. “One is plenty enough, ma’am.”
“Good. You just keep it that way.”
“Feeling sassy today, are you?”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“How sas
sy are you feeling?”
“Well, it all depends.”
“Sassy enough for a kiss out here in the middle of the street?”
She thought for a minute, and he paused. “No.” She smiled. “But sassy enough for a kiss right before we hit the church steps.”
He laughed. “Yes, I guess this is a good Christmas after all.”
Once he got there, he claimed his kiss and went up the steps.
“Daddy, I saw you and Mama kiss.”
“Yes, you’ve seen us do that a few times now, haven’t you?”
“Aren’t you ’posed to wait till you’re at the front of the church to do that?”
“Oh, sweetheart, I love kissing your mommy anytime.”
Heidi tilted her head to the side and studied him. “Should I give you a kiss now?”
“That’s a great idea.” He knelt down. She gave him a peck on the cheek, and he returned it. “Ah, that was a wonderful Christmas kiss. Thank you very much.”
They walked down the aisle and sat in their pew. He knew his sister would be joining them soon.
Stomping sounded. Footsteps time and time again could be heard outside the church as people knocked the mud off their boots. Laughter filled the foyer. Folks kept coming in. Hearty shouts of “Merry Christmas” were exchanged over and over again.
In walked Piet. In walked Karl. That clod forgot my sister! On Christmas Sunday of all days! Hands fisting, Enoch leaned over and whispered, “I’m going to get my sister.” He started to ease to the edge of the pew.
But just then, Karl reached back and tugged on something. “Are you going to talk all day, or are you going to sit in church? It’s ready to start.”
“I’m sorry, Karl,” Taylor said. “I just wanted to see the baby.”
Karl turned and looked at the newest Bolington baby. “Ah, it is a beautiful baby, Mrs. Bolington.” Mrs. Bolington beamed. Enoch had told Mercy about Karl’s courting plans the night before, so they’d allowed others to take seats on their pew. Taylor’s eyes widened when she saw she’d been ousted.
“We have many visitors today.” Karl gently tugged her. “Come, there’s room here for the three of us.” He made sure that Taylor sat between him and his brother, the two of them forming sentinels on either side of her, insulating her from the ill will of some of the group.
Enoch looked down. His hands were still fisted. Mercy reached over, smoothed her hand over his fist, and stroked it a couple of times. “God’s will, will always have its way.”
Enoch thought about those wise words. God’s will, will always have its way. It was true. He had to have faith. Whatever God wanted would occur. No matter what differences Enoch tried to make, none of this fell within his control. In the end, it came down to one verse. “The fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.” He needed to be praying—fervently and more that acceptance and peace would fill the congregation and Taylor’s practice would flourish.
Parson Bradle read the Christmas story from Luke, and they sang carols. The music rose to the rafters and reverberated in the cold air. It was beautiful. Afterward, congregants wished each other a merry Christmas and walked on out to their horses, wagons, and buggies again.
Old Mrs. Whitsley leaned heavily on her cane and beamed at him. “Got us a mighty nice Sunday. Times were, everyone came to church. It’s not that way anymore, but today most everyone showed up.”
“Yes, ma’am. It seems everyone in the township came to worship. There are a few I’ve met only once, if at all.”
Mercy leaned on his other arm. “Several of these people only see one another on Christmas and Easter.” Exuberant greetings and hearty laughs supported her assertion. Greetings were exchanged, embraces held. Laughter bubbled up all around them. Kids ran about, playing tag. It didn’t matter that the ground was damp, that little boys jumped in puddles and little girls screamed because the mud landed on their pretty dresses. Everyone was just delighted that it was Christmas Sunday.
Heidi tugged on Mercy’s hand. “Can I go play?”
“Go ahead and have a good time,” Enoch told her.
They exchanged a few more comments with Mrs. Whitsley and then the old woman toddled off.
Suddenly a girl’s high-pitched scream rent the air and a horse and wagon whizzed past.
Eighteen
Heidi!” Enoch and Mercy croaked her name in unison.
“She’s right here.” Hope’s reassurance freed him to help and not feel he was abandoning his wife in a time of need.
Enoch saw his sister start darting across the churchyard. “Move for the doctor!” Karl mowed a path for her at an impasse and lifted her directly over Mrs. Richardson’s swooning form.
Enoch cut across the other direction and met her where Bethany Richardson lay in the mud. The little girl’s leg was skewed at an awkward angle, but Taylor only gave that a passing glance. Immediately she put her hand on Bethany’s chest to make sure she was still breathing. It rose and it fell three times before Taylor nodded.
“She’s breathing well.” Taylor then inspected the little girl’s head. Swiftly, deftly, her hands moved. “She didn’t get kicked in the head.” She checked Bethany’s eyes. “Pupils are equal and constrict to light.”
“Her leg’s busted. What’re you doing looking at her head and in her eyes?” Mr. Smith said. “Dumb woman don’t even know what end to look at.”
Karl growled, “That’s enough out of you.”
Somebody else stepped forward. “He’s got a right to speak his piece.”
“Yeah, he does.”
“Yeah,” others chimed in.
Taylor ignored them all. She lightly assessed Bethany’s little chest, checking her ribs, then ran her hands down both arms, hands, and fingers, taking swift, careful inventory.
Mrs. Richardson screamed, “My little girl. My little girl. My little girl.” Enoch caught her right before she grabbed her daughter.
“What are you doin’ stopping her? Let her go. That’s her child.”
Enoch didn’t release her until Karl brought Mr. Richardson over from beside Bethany. Enoch handed Mrs. Richardson to her husband. “If your daughter’s pelvis is injured and she’s moved right now, it might cause her grave damage. She can’t be shifted whatsoever until my sister makes sure everything else is all right.”
Some of those who were disbelieving a few minutes before suddenly didn’t seem quite so sure of themselves. Enoch went to kneel across from Taylor as her hands efficiently mapped out her patient’s hip bones. “What do you need?”
“Stay right where you are,” she murmured. Taylor opened up the leather purse hanging from the chatelaine at her waist. From it she pulled some gauze in which she hid a small vial with a dropper. She didn’t want people to know that she had narcotics in her chatelaine. Such knowledge could be dangerous, because if someone were desperate for the drug, they might rob her. Taylor didn’t so much worry for her own welfare, which terrified Enoch, but she fretted because she knew the contents of the vial were sufficient for several doses. If someone were to ingest all of it at once, it could cause cessation of breathing. Enoch said nothing.
“What’s she doing?”
“What’s that for?”
Enoch wedged open Bethany’s mouth, and Taylor quickly administered just two little drops under the child’s tongue. Karl saw what was happening, but Enoch trusted that he’d say nothing.
Quickly, Taylor put the vial back into her chatelaine. She stroked the little girl’s throat to get her to swallow. “Mr. Richardson, I’ve given your daughter some medication. This will help her swallow it. She’ll still awaken when we move her, but I want her to have something already working to alleviate the pain.”
Some of the drug probably got absorbed beneath the tongue—a trick their father had taught them long ago. The remainder would be absorbed more slowly in the stomach, but that meant smoother, longer relief from the pain.
The little girl groaned.
Taylor finally looked up. “Please s
tep back. None of us wants Bethany to be frightened.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Bradle agreed. “Let’s all give her a little air.”
The little girl groaned louder, then cried, “Mama—”
Mrs. Richardson knelt in the mud. “Oh, my little girl. My poor little girl.”
Bethany’s eyes opened. “Mama.” Her arms came up to her mother.
“Her arms are working.” Taylor touched Mrs. Richardson’s shoulder. “Have her move her left leg, but not her right.” Mrs. Richardson was too upset to give the command. Mr. Richardson tried to kneel down, but tears clouded his eyes. Taylor pulled one of the little girl’s arms from around her mother’s neck. “Bethany, I need you to listen to me. One of your legs hurts. It has an owie. This other one here, the one that I have my hand on, I’m rubbing it right now. I want you to take that knee and bring it up for me. Just lift it up just a tiny bit.”
She sobbed, “I don’t want to.”
“Just a tiny bit, sweetheart.”
“My leg hurts.”
Enoch got down. “Just a little. Come on, just a little bit. Heidi would do it.” When Bethany opened her eyes wider he repeated, “Heidi would do it.” Heidi would do it.”
Bethany lifted that leg a few inches.
“Excellent!” Relief rang in Taylor’s voice. “Heidi couldn’t have done it any better.”
Two men carried Bethany over to the surgery, then stepped out to allow the women to go in and help undress and clean her up. Enoch knew Taylor wished she could keep a select few there to help, but no woman was willing to be left out.
Mercy went home and got one of Heidi’s little nightdresses. “I thought she could use this,” she said as she took it on in.
Heidi came over and held Enoch’s hand. “Daddy, is Bethy gonna be okay?”
“We’ll wait and see, sweetheart. Her leg got broken, but your auntie can make it better.”
“Okay, Daddy.” With all the assurance in the world that her auntie could make it better, Heidi skipped off.
A few short minutes later, the door opened again. Taylor stood in the aperture, and women lined up along the far wall of the surgery. The variety of expressions warned Enoch that the situation was still volatile. Taylor nodded toward Bethany’s father. “Mr. Richardson, we need to discuss the treatment for your daughter.”
That Certain Spark Page 19
