A Doctor's Vow

by Lois Richer

  “I thought I saw something about that when I signed on at the hospital,” Jaclyn said.

  “There was a plan developed about thirty-five years ago but things have changed since then. We need to update, to be prepared in case some kind of disaster hits.” Kent fell silent, his face bearing that worried expression.

  “You’re expecting problems?” she asked quietly.

  “I’m expecting the unexpected because that’s what usually happens when you’re not prepared.” A taut grimness edged his tone now.

  “We’ll have to pray that won’t happen.” She saw his eyes narrow.

  “Pray, yes. But I also want to be organized for whatever gets thrown at us. With such a dry year—” His voice trailed away, his eyes peering into the darkness.

  “You’re worried about another fire. It could happen, I suppose. I’ve noticed areas around the hospital are very dry.” She tried to ease his worry. “But whatever comes our way, God will take care of us. That’s His promise. We can always depend on Him.”

  Jaclyn knew he didn’t believe it. He was thinking about Lisa and the fire that had taken her. Was that why he sounded so driven when he talked about the emergency preparedness plan?

  “I still think we need to get all our ducks in a row, just in case,” he muttered.

  “It’s a good idea,” she agreed. “If you want some help, let me know. I’d like to be part of it.”

  “Thanks.” Kent nodded then rose and began stacking their dishes.

  Jaclyn took the cue, but his response bothered her. Didn’t he want her help?

  “It’s getting late. I’ll help you clean up then I’d better go. I’m on call tonight.”

  “Then you shouldn’t be here working. You should be relaxing.” He took the dishes from her and insisted she leave them. “You’ve done enough for today. Go home, Jaclyn. Relax and do something special for yourself this evening.”

  “But—” The word spluttered out of her before she could stop it.

  “But what?” He smiled. “I am capable of doing a few dishes you know.”

  “I know that.” She debated whether or not to say it.

  He gave her an odd look. “What?”

  “I wanted to see your petting zoo.”

  “I don’t have one.” The familiar tic was back at the corner of his jaw, telegraphing his tension.

  “You did show the kids something today—they told me. I wanted to see but I was busy attending to a bump on the head.”

  “The puppies. And I have a couple of birds I’ve worked on that are healing out in the shed. And one of the miniature ponies had a colt.” He shrugged. “That’s it. Oh, except for the snakes. The game wardens brought in a couple of snakes yesterday, but I only let the kids look at them.”

  “That’s all?” Jaclyn mocked and burst into laughter. “It sounds like a regular petting zoo to me. One of the children mentioned a rabbit?”

  “Yes,” he agreed dryly. “There is also a rabbit, soon to be more rabbits if my diagnosis is correct. But that doesn’t make a petting zoo.”

  “What would you call it then?” She tilted her head to one side.

  “It’s just a few animals that I’m treating. A petting zoo would have specific areas and pens designed for each animal.” He shrugged. “I don’t have any of that.”

  “Yet.” She checked her watch. “I guess I’ll have to see them another time.” She grabbed her bag and slung it over one shoulder.

  “It was the snakes that did it, wasn’t it?” He grinned. “You were all ready to run out there and see the animals until I mentioned snakes.”

  Jaclyn tried and failed to hide her shudder.

  “Snakes are amazing animals you know, even the poisonous ones.” He chuckled at her. “You don’t believe me?”

  “I guess it’s all in the way you look at things.” She met his gaze. “Like I look at God as someone who expects each of us to do our very best for Him so we’re worthy of the life He gives us.”

  “Really?” Kent frowned at her. “I guess I don’t see Him the same as you do. I don’t feel like He’s a big taskmaster who expects me to accomplish certain things or He’ll disapprove.”

  “I never said that at all.”

  “You act that way. Signing up for all these committees, working yourself to death—what is that about?”

  “Hardly to death.” She held out her arms, fingers splayed so he could see they were not worked to the bone. “See? Perfectly healthy. And you know why I joined all those committees. I am trying to get clients for the clinic.”

  “I know it’s been hard to get patients,” he said, modulating his voice. “I know lots of folks have brought up the past and made it their excuse for not coming to see you. But I don’t think you have to earn anything. God gives us His gifts because He loves us, not because we earn them. People in Hope will eventually come around. People like you, Jaclyn.”

  “So far ‘like’ hasn’t been working.” She studied the floor. “I don’t know if you can understand this. My parents certainly don’t. But the clinic—that is what I’m supposed to do with my life. It’s what I have to do. Otherwise what was the purpose for me living and Jessica dying?”

  Kent stared at her. A frown tipped down the edges of his mouth and darkened his eyes to a deep navy. “You’re trying to earn your life?” Disbelief filled his voice.

  “Yes,” she told him, thrusting back her shoulders and tilting up her chin so he wouldn’t feel sorry for her. “That is exactly what I’m saying. God gives us opportunities. He expects us to make use of them. And if we don’t—”

  “If we don’t—what?” he asked in disbelief.

  “I’m not saying that God sends down a lightning rod to strike us dead if we don’t use what He’s given us.” She drew her bag a little closer, trying to form the words. “But that doesn’t mean God has no expectations of His children. There’s an old saying. ‘God helps those who help themselves.’”

  Kent looked as if he wanted to argue. Jaclyn just wanted to escape. Suddenly she felt vulnerable, as if she’d opened up a private part of herself for him to examine and she’d disappointed him. She edged toward the door.

  “Thank you for a lovely dinner. I don’t know when I’ve tasted a better steak.”

  “I’m the one who needs to thank you,” he said as he followed her outside. “You did so much work for that party.”

  “A party you didn’t want. Anyway, Carissa did most of the work.” She opened her car, set her bag inside. “I just helped.”

  “That’s what you always do, isn’t it? Just help. You help the girls’ group, you help the ladies’ committees. You help the Sunday school. You help the choir. You help the service clubs. In fact you ‘help’ pretty well everyone in town.” Kent tipped his head to one side, his eyes quizzical in the clear moonlight. “It makes me wonder—who is helping you, Jaclyn?”

  “You are,” she said softly. Her nerves were doing that skittering dance again. Her pulse picked up when she caught the citrusy scent of his aftershave. Every nerve ending turned into a megawatt receptor that flashed details about Kent to her brain. “You’re a wonderful man who has worked so hard to make my dream come true. I appreciate you, Kent. Good night.”

  He said nothing until she was seated in her car. Then he leaned inside and pressed a kiss against her cheek, right at the edge of her lips. A moment later he pulled back and closed the door. Jaclyn started the motor then rolled down the window.

  “What was that for?” she asked, bemused.

  “For bringing life back to this ranch,” he said. “That’s what you helped with today, Jaclyn. Good night.”

  Jaclyn had no recollection of driving home. As she stood in her own kitchen, she lifted her hand and touched her fingertips to spot beside her mouth that still burned from Kent’s kiss.


  “For a doctor, you’re a very stupid woman, Jaclyn LaForge. You’ve gone and fallen in love with him.”

  Kent wasn’t interested in a romantic relationship. He was still reeling from the loss of the wife he loved.

  “I can’t love him,” Jaclyn whispered. Running the clinic would drain her, physically, emotionally and mentally. There wouldn’t be enough left over to give to someone else. Besides, she didn’t want marriage. She’d seen how badly marriage could go with her parents, who had truly loved each other once.

  Jaclyn had known she’d be alone when she made the decision to make the clinic her life. She couldn’t vacillate now.

  She dug out her plans for Jessica’s clinic and poured over them for hours. But always it was Kent’s face she saw, his voice she heard, his kiss she felt. She wished an emergency would draw her to the hospital where she could dive into work and forget these very unsettling feelings.

  Instead, Jaclyn sat far into the night, dreaming of what she couldn’t have.

  I’m trying to keep my vow, she prayed when sleep wouldn’t come. Please help me forget love and focus on work.

  But in her heart Jaclyn knew her work couldn’t compete with what she now felt for Kent McCloy.

  She was in trouble.

  Chapter Ten

  Two weeks later Kent sat in church wishing he’d skipped this Sunday service. It felt wrong to be here when the faith he’d once held so dear now filled him with questions. But he could hardly walk out just as the minister walked to the pulpit.

  “What are you blaming God for?” he asked the congregation. “Is it a lack of money? A lousy boss? The loss of someone you loved? Do you think you’re alone, that you’ve been abandoned? Do you feel like God is mad at you? What’s your beef with God, folks?”

  The pregnant pause had the entire church riveted, including Kent.

  “You need help, but where is God? Where does He go when you need Him most? More importantly, why doesn’t He help when you call? It’s an age-old question. And the answer is—” Pastor Tom paused, waited then smiled. “I don’t know.”

  Soft laughter filled the sanctuary.

  “It’s the truth, people. I don’t know why it’s that way. I don’t know why it sometimes feels as if God abandons us. I can’t explain why certain times in our lives we are unable to hear His voice or feel His presence.” Again his smile flashed. “I do know we humans sometimes feel disappointed in His response. We think we have to work harder to get His attention, to be worthy of His time. And if God still doesn’t respond, we feel abandoned, alone, as if we’ve sinned, done something so wrong He’s finally given up on us.”

  Kent squirmed. This sermon hit a little too close to home.

  “David the psalmist, God’s chosen king and beloved child, had the same questions we do. Read his psalms and you’ll see how often David asked God where He is, why He doesn’t help. If David had doubts, why wouldn’t we?” The pastor shook his head. “We have to stop beating ourselves up when doubts assail us. We need to remember who God said He is and the promises He’s made. We have to stop allowing doubts and fears to overwhelm us. When problems hit us, when it seems we’re at rock bottom, this is the very time we need to hold strong in our faith.”

  Uncomfortable with the message, Kent glanced around. He noticed Jaclyn seated two rows over in front of him. She wore a white lace sundress that showed off her narrow shoulders. On her left side, three young girls hunched forward, intent on the minister’s words. Jaclyn also seemed riveted until she turned her head, as if she’d felt his stare on her. Her eyes met his and held as if some invisible electric current bound them together. After a moment she gave him a funny half smile, then turned her attention back to the preacher. Kent did the same.

  “We all have dark moments when the questions seem to overwhelm. But in David’s blackest hour, he knew enough about God to know His truth. Listen to Psalm 139, verse seven.” He turned a page in his Bible and began to read. “‘I can never be lost to your Spirit! I can never get away from my God! If I go up to heaven, You are there; if I go down to the place of the dead, You are there. If I ride the morning winds to the farthest oceans, even there Your hand will guide me, Your strength will support me.’ And then in verse sixteen he says, ‘You saw me before I was born and scheduled each day of my life before I began to breathe.’”

  The magnitude of that hit Kent like a sledgehammer. Somehow he’d never considered that God had known him before he was born and knew how badly he would fail Lisa. He’d never considered that God knew, before Kent had packed a single bag, that coming back to the ranch would send his wife into that tailspin of depression.

  He and Lisa had prayed before they moved. They’d asked God’s blessing. Kent had done everything he could to ease the transition for her. And yet even then, God knew it wouldn’t be enough.

  Kent struggled with the truth that God had also known how Lisa would die and that the guilt of her death would bring Kent to the very precipice of doubting his faith. Shock filled him as he realized that long before he’d admitted it to himself, God had known his questions.

  If Lisa’s death had been a test of his faith, Kent had failed miserably.

  Lost in his musing, he suddenly became aware that the congregation was rising, that the organ was playing. The service was over. He stood and scanned the overhead for the words to a chorus he didn’t really know, his brain focused on clarifying the meaning of those scriptures.

  God knew of his guilty feelings, of his failure of the one he loved the most. God knew Kent was immobilized by blame and remorse and shame. Because if he was honest with himself, that is what lay under his guilt—shame. Shame that he had not been able to save his wife. Shame that he hadn’t loved her enough to take her away before it was too late.

  Did that make Lisa’s death any less his fault?

  “Hi, Kent. I’m glad you made it this morning.” Jaclyn stood in front of him, breathtaking in her white dress.

  “You’re glad?” Did that mean she’d noticed he’d skipped church lately?

  “I went out on a call last night at eleven. When I came back at two, I noticed your truck was still in front of the clinic. You keep late hours.” Her wide smile did funny things to his respiration.

  “I guess you do, too. You look lovely. No one would know you were up so late.” He searched for another topic of conversation. “Was it serious—the call, I mean?”

  Jaclyn nodded, her face solemn. When she swallowed he saw the shadow of tears well in her brown eyes. That vulnerability sent a shaft of pain straight to his heart.

  “A little boy, only two. I lost him,” she murmured. “I did everything I could think of to save him, but they brought him in too late because they knew I was on duty.” A tiny sob stopped her words for a moment.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, Jaclyn.” He wanted to hug her.

  “Thanks.” She struggled to regroup. “I’m beginning to wonder if I will ever crack the barrier of trust in Hope,” she whispered.

  “Can you tell me who it was?” Kent was stunned when she named the child of a former school friend of theirs.

  “The mom’s parents never got over their bitterness about me. They advised their daughter to wait until another doctor came on duty.” She dashed the tears from her cheeks and gulped. “Maybe if someone else had been—”

  “No, don’t think that. You can’t blame yourself, Jaclyn.” Kent touched her arm, her bare skin smooth against his work-roughened fingertips. “I know you. You did the best you could.”

  “Yes. I did everything I know to do.” Jaclyn nodded. “But the pneumonia—”

  “There are no buts.” He smiled at her. “In a way, isn’t that what today’s message was about? Knowing that God is there, that we do the best we can and leave the rest up to Him. At least,” he said, trying for a lighter tone, “that’s my interpretati
on.”

  “I guess.” Her face looked pale. “But this case has magnified my doubts. Maybe my parents were right and it’s time for me to join a big-city practice.” She drew her arm away from his touch then tilted her head to one side and said, “Maybe it would be better if someone else came here, someone they wouldn’t be afraid to let treat their kids. Maybe Jessica’s clinic was a selfish idea that I need to forget.”

  Kent stifled his urge to yell “no” at the top of his lungs. He wanted to beg her to stay, but then Jaclyn might suspect the depths of his feelings for her. He didn’t want that, so he modified his response and tried another tack.

  “That’s a whole lot of maybes. I don’t think you should give up just yet. I think this is something you need to seriously consider, not decide on the spur of the moment. I’m happy to act as your sounding board, if you want.”

  “That’s really nice of you, Kent. I could use a friend.”

  He nodded, knowing his feelings were much stronger than friendship.

  “Maybe you’d like to join me for lunch.” Her hesitancy over the invitation transmitted clearly through her uncertain voice.

  “Sure. Where would you like to go?”

  “My place? I couldn’t sleep when I got home so I tried out some recipes from my cooking class. I know it’s a risk, but you could share them with me.” She grimaced. “I promise I have a large bottle of antacids, in case you need them.”

  Though he had avoided Jaclyn this past week, sharing lunch with her sounded too good to resist. And he wanted to learn if she identified with what the minister had said.

  “Kent,” she said, giving a nervous laugh. “You’re taking way too long to answer.”

  “Uh, I—”

  “In my defense, I’ve had five classes now and turned out an acceptable dish for every one. Heddy’s standing right over there. Ask her if you don’t believe me.”

  Kent glanced around the sanctuary and saw Hope’s busiest busybody studying them. He knew in a minute she would rush over to see if he’d made a decision about her offer to work on the emergency measure plan and he didn’t want that. Not now. What he wanted was some time with Jaclyn. Alone.