by Kay Moser
“Yes, he is.” Christine gave her a little hug, then gestured to a bench under an apple tree. “Now come, let’s go sit. I want to hear all about this amazing place called Texado Park.”
When Sarah returned to Texado Park after sharing an early supper with Christine and the girls, she climbed a short distance up the mesa and settled on a rock. She thought back over the weeks since her graduation, making note of the places where God’s intervention was obvious. She prayed for healing for Victoria, for consolation for Christine. She thought of Hayden and General Gibbes, alone in Riverford, trying to keep the store running, trying to save the bank.
She remembered Victoria’s thin face, her skin whiter than usual in the shade-drawn room of the sanitarium. Tears stung Sarah’s eyes as her throat contracted. “Oh God, please heal her! Save her! The world needs Victoria. I need her! Hayden needs—” Her words died as she thought of Hayden alone in Riverford with his worries. “And Richard is gone … He’s not there to help him or to help General Gibbes. Lord, please send them help. Send them strong, wise men who will—” Her hand flew to her mouth. “You already have, haven’t You? Lee is there! Lee …”
She saw his face in her mind’s eye. She saw him standing next to her at baby Rose’s grave, insisting she come back to town and take her college entrance exams. She saw him standing at the base of the giant magnolia tree on campus, waiting, believing in her, as she struggled through that endless day of tests. She saw him on the verandah proposing marriage. “And even when I rejected him, he made a pre-dawn trip out to the farm to bring Mama to the train station,” she whispered. “He is so faithful, so … so easy to love. And I do love him. I can’t deny it. But I have committed myself to teaching. Oh, what am I to do?”
Sarah turned and stared up at the magnificent rocks. “It is a mighty hand indeed that made you,” she called up to them, “and that same mighty hand brought Victoria to a place where she can heal. That same mighty hand directs my life, too. Nothing is impossible with God. Maybe … maybe Lee and I could ...”
CHAPTER 33
This is the way it starts … with light … The thought drifted through Victoria’s semi-conscious mind as her eyelids fluttered open. She focused straight ahead on the table under the window. Tall, blue delphiniums rose to fluffy peaks in a crystal vase in front of the billowy, sheer curtains and the early morning sun tipped the top of them, turning them into glowing sapphires. A thrill shot through Victoria, and she drew in a deep breath as she sat up, the fingers of her right hand automatically positioning an imaginary pencil.
“I can’t stay in bed!” She threw back the covers and, ignoring the chill of early morning mountain air, stood in her bare feet and stared past the flowers and out the window. “Oh! Oh my!”
Her heart raced with excitement as she crossed the short distance to the window and stared in awe. The early morning sun struck the giant, upright, iron-shaped rocks on the side of the mountain, making them glow. A painting began in Victoria’s mind. Rosy terra cotta for the sunlit tops of the rocks, flowing into purple-tinted charcoal as I paint the bottom of them. And the trees. Oh, the light on those treetops! Her painter’s mind took over. A sketch! First I must have a sketch, and I’ll make notes …
She shivered, the chill starting on her skin and digging into her very bones. Cold air, sunshine … oh, this is heaven!
She hurried to the wardrobe, snatched her dressing gown on, and grabbed her bag of art supplies. A minute later she had a chair positioned at the end of the bed, her large sketch pad balanced in her lap. The pencil in her right hand flew across the page, stopping only to snatch up pastel chalks to record the colors.
Victoria made pages of quick sketches, streaking the images with stripes of color as she recorded the sunrise on the front range of the Rocky Mountains. When she was finished, she sat back in the chair, her heart full of hope. I shall be well now. No … that’s not right. If I can create, I am well. Thank you, God!
“Mrs. Hodges! What are you doing out of bed?” A white-uniformed nurse interrupted Victoria’s thoughts. “You’re ill, an invalid. The doctor said you must stay in bed at least two weeks.” She grabbed a blanket from the bed and threw it around Victoria’s shoulders. “Now give me that art stuff.” She reached for the sketch pad, but Victoria held it firmly.
“I am not finished working.”
“Working? Are you insane?”
Victoria laughed. “Quite! All we artists are insane, but it is our art that creates our health.”
“I’ve never heard such nonsense in my life.”
“Then it’s time you did,” Victoria said. “Many, perhaps most, of the ailments of the body begin in the mind, in the spirit.”
“I am going to send for Dr. Reese.”
“Oh, don’t bother him on such a beautiful morning. Just bring me a tray with a large pot of hot tea and a big breakfast.”
“You’re hungry? I very much doubt that. According to your records, you haven’t been able to keep food down for weeks, and you’re as frail looking as a starving fawn.”
Victoria laughed again. “We haven’t met, have we?”
“No, I came on duty last night.”
“What is your name?”
“Roberts.” The hefty woman stood taller, pinched her lips together, and glared her disapproval at Victoria through her wire-rimmed spectacles. “Miss Roberts. I have just returned to work after a short vacation, and I will be directing your recovery. Let me assure you right now that I don’t tolerate uncooperative patients, and I’ve never seen art cure anything.”
Victoria plopped her sketch pad on the floor beside the chair, and, abandoning the blanket cocoon the nurse had swaddled her in, rose and faced the woman. “Miss Roberts, I don’t tolerate bossy people with small minds. Perhaps you have not experienced enough of the world to expand your mind, so I will not blame you for that part of your disposition, but you can control your tone.”
The nurse drew herself up in a huff. “Dr. Reese has given orders—”
“I will talk to Dr. Reese when I next see him. We will work out a reasonable regimen for my recuperative time, but I assure you it will include many hours devoted to art.”
Miss Roberts took a threatening step toward her. “You are a sick woman, Mrs. Hodges. You will not live through the summer if you don’t obey me.”
“Nonsense! I am not teetering on the edge of death, and I won’t allow you to tell me I am.”
“You are gravely ill, but I can heal you if—”
“You can heal me? Surely if you are such a miraculous healer, the world would be gathered at your door.”
“I meant, of course, that we can heal you. The regimen of this sanitarium can heal you.” She paused and scanned Victoria from foot to top of head. “Now, I must admit, I wonder if we can. Clearly you have more than physical problems; you have mental problems, and—”
“Get out,” Victoria ordered. “Send Frances to me.”
“I am not one of your Negro servants to be ordered around.”
“You have finally said one true thing. Frances is a kind person who loves people back to health. Now, go and send Frances to me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. This is a medical establishment; we don’t allow our patients to be cared for by colored servants—”
“That’s enough! Frances is an intelligent, wise woman. I will not stand here and listen to you defame her. You may have controlled your patients in the past, Miss Roberts, but you will not control me, and don’t you dare say one unkind word to Frances.”
“That settles it. I’m calling Dr. Reese at once.” Miss Roberts shook her finger at Victoria. “You will abide by the rules of this establishment.” She turned on her heel, flung open the door, and found Frances standing there with a tray in her hands. “What are you doing up here?”
Frances drew herself up to her full height and glared at the woman. “I’s here to take care of Miz Victoria.”
“God help us,” Miss Roberts exclaimed.
Fra
nces smiled at her. “You don’t gotta worry ’bout that, ma’am. God be helping us just fine. He been here all along.”
Miss Roberts snorted as she pushed Frances aside. “I shall return with Dr. Reese.”
Victoria smiled at Frances. “Heaven help Dr. Reese.”
“He gonna need help, that’s for sure.” Frances bustled into the room and set the tray down. “Lawd a mercy, Miz Victoria! What you doin’ up in this cold room?”
Victoria pointed to the sketch pad and the scattered pastel chalks on the floor.
“You’s already paintin’?”
“Oh Frances, you should have seen the glow on those gigantic rocks on the mountains at dawn. It was magnificent. Absolutely irresistible!”
Frances grinned at her. “Ain’t been here but four days, and you’s gettin’ well, Miz Victoria. When one of your paintin’ fits comes over you, I knows you’s gettin’ well, but you gotta cover up more. It be too cold here in Colorado at night. I don’t know as I’s gonna survive it.”
Victoria picked up the blanket and grinned as she held it out to Frances. “Wrap yourself in this.”
Frances snatched it and flung it around Victoria’s shoulders. “Don’t you mind ’bout me. You sit yourself down. I’s gonna pour you a cup of tea.”
“I am starving, Frances.”
“You is?” Frances’ face lit up as she handed a steaming teacup to her. “Oh, that be a good sign for sure. I ain’t been able to get you to eat nothing but tea and dry toast since you been here. I’s goin’ down to the kitchen and get you some breakfast. You ain’t gonna believe it, Miz Victoria, but they’s got the kitchen under the ground here, just like they do in England. Ain’t nothing but little windows at the top of the walls. I sure feels sorry for the help.”
“Have they been … are they kind to you, Frances?”
Frances laughed heartily. “They’s awful shocked to see me first time I showed up, but they’s nice ’nough, and I figure they’s gonna get used to me.” Frances shook her head. “I ain’t so sure ’bout that Miss Roberts.”
Victoria narrowed her eyes. “I am sure. Sure she’s not going to nurse me.”
Frances smiled as she picked up Victoria’s art supplies from the floor. “No, I don’t reckon she is. Now I’s goin’ after your breakfast. What you want?”
“Scrambled eggs, bacon, grits—”
“Lawd ’a mercy! You is gettin’ well. They ain’t gonna have no grits; they eats potatoes for breakfast here.”
Victoria grinned. “Remember the breakfasts in England?”
“I sure do! Beans and tomatoes with they eggs, and they cook them tomatoes and ruin ‘em.”
“Just bring a lot of whatever you find.”
A sharp knock sounded at the door.
“Uh oh.” Now don’t you get all riled up, Miz Victoria. Ain’t good for you.”
“Just open the door, Frances.” Victoria turned her head toward the window and made a show of casually sipping her tea.
“Uh … yes, well … good morning.” Victoria heard a deep male voice stumble and knew he had been surprised to see Frances. “I am here to see Mrs. Hodges.”
“Come in, Dr. Reese,” Victoria invited. “Will you have a cup of tea?” She turned her head and smiled at him.
“You’re sitting up.” He stated the obvious. “And I hear you’ve been working.”
Victoria laughed. “I can well imagine what you’ve heard.”
He smiled at her as he took her hand and felt her pulse. “A bit faster than I’d like,” he said. “Perhaps you should get back in bed and relax.”
“Perhaps I shouldn’t be confronted by a bossy nurse who insists I’m dying. I am, after all, a red-haired Texan.”
A smile flashed across his face, but he squelched it and cleared his throat. “I’ll just check your heart, if I may.” He applied the stethoscope to her chest, and after a moment of listening, stood back. “Nice and steady. I think you’re fine in spite of your early morning exertion. I hear you have an appetite. No nausea?”
“Not a bit.” Victoria sighed happily. “For the first time in months, food actually sounds appealing. I think your mountain air is as restorative as you claim.”
“Clearly it has helped you, Mrs. Hodges, but I don’t think you’re ready to be out of bed.”
Victoria narrowed her eyes at him.
“Well … not for long periods of time anyway. You are clearly making progress, and we don’t want you to have a setback.” He took her hand and patted it. “Just for today, I wonder if you would oblige me by spending most of your time in bed. You may have visitors, of course, and if you feel like sketching or reading ...”
“No more Nurse Roberts?” Victoria bargained.
“No … No, I think you have been mismatched with Nurse Roberts. I will send someone of a different disposition to nurse you.”
“Someone who will work with Frances; someone who will respect Frances,” Victoria insisted. “I will accept no less, and if you don’t have such a person on staff, I will forego the services of a nurse entirely.”
“Yes … well, that’s settled, isn’t it? Are you Texans always so direct?”
“Just the red-haired ones, Dr. Reese. Just the red-haired ones.” She smiled up at him.
“I regret to say I have very few red-haired patients.”
“My sympathies,” Victoria murmured as she bowed her head in mock sorrow.
“I shall check on you this evening. Please don’t sit up for too long, and take naps when your body tells you to.” He bowed, then turned to go.
When Frances arrived with breakfast a few moments later, Victoria ate everything except the potatoes, then returned to bed. She lay, propped up on pillows, and colored in her sketches until she fell asleep again.
When she awoke, her eyes lighted on a new piece of furniture positioned by the window. “What’s this?” she murmured as she pulled herself into a sitting position.
“Dr. Reese sent it in ’bout noon,” Frances answered as she jumped up from the chair. “It be one of them lounging chairs like you got at home.”
“Noon? Did you say ‘noon’? What time is it?”
“Goin’ on ’bout tea time. You been asleep all day.”
“Mercy! What a waste of time.” Victoria threw back the covers. “I’m going to try that chaise lounge out right now.”
“Just a minute, Miz Victoria.” Frances raced to the side of the bed. “Let me help you. You’s still weak.”
“Nonsense, Frances! I’m just fine—” A wave of vertigo washed over her as she sat up, and she clutched at the feather mattress with both hands. “Heavens!”
Frances grabbed her. “See? What’d I tell you? You gotta take your time. You be whippin’ ’round in your usual way soon ’nough. Now, you lie back down.”
“No. Just help me to the chaise lounge, and I’ll sit still until my head clears.”
“Well, when it do, I’s gonna get you some food. You ain’t eaten since breakfast. Then I’s gonna run over to the cottage. Miz Christine expectin’ Miz Sarah to come this afternoon. They gonna come visit you.”
“And the girls too. I want to see the girls.”
“I don’t know ’bout that. They’s got rules here—”
“Sneak them in, Frances.” Victoria kept her head level as she slipped from the bed. “I think my dizziness has passed.”
“I ain’t letttin’ go of you ’till you’s settled.” Victoria felt strong arms wrap around her waist and almost lift her. “Now you take your time, you hear me?”
“You sound just like Nurse Roberts!”
Frances chuckled. “That ain’t a nice thing to say, Miz Victoria.”
CHAPTER 34
Sarah saw Ceci and Juli race out the cottage door as she approached, and she barely had time to crouch before they flung themselves into her arms. “My goodness! You two look happy.”
“Miss Victoria is awake,” Ceci shouted as she jumped up and down.
“She’s awake, and she’s be
en painting too,” Juli chimed in.
“No, she hasn’t,” Ceci corrected her sister. “She’s just been drawing.”
“I don’t care! Drawing is painting too.” Juli broke loose from Sarah’s arms and began twirling on the grass. “She’s painting! She’s painting!”
Ceci shook her head as she sighed loudly. “She doesn’t know anything.”
“I do too!” Juli crashed into Sarah’s knees and looked up at her. “I’m going to be a painter like Miss Victoria. You just wait and see.”
“I don’t have to wait to see,” Christine called from the doorway as she hurried out. “You’ve been drawing mountains all morning, darling.”
“And flowers and birds,” Juli added.
“Hello, Sarah.” Christine hugged her. “As you no doubt have discerned, Victoria is much improved today.”
“She’s eating,” Ceci exclaimed.
“But not the potatoes,” Juli added. “Frances said Miss Victoria doesn’t like potatoes for breakfast.”
“And we’re going to see her,” Ceci said.
Juli giggled. “We’re going to sneak in.”
“Well, there, now you have all the news,” Christine said. “All tidily summed up for you.”
“It sounds wonderful to me.” Sarah examined her friend’s smiling face and found the dark circles and lines gone. “And you look like you’re feeling considerably better yourself.”
“I am. Good sleep, this wonderfully cool air—it’s remarkable what those two things alone can do. I also had a telegram from Father late yesterday. All good news.”
“The Board of Directors of the bank met?”
“They did, and they gave Father and Lee Logan their vote of approval for the time being. Not unanimous, apparently, but still a firm majority.”
“That’s wonderful. Does Hayden know that Victoria is better?”
“I telegraphed him this morning after I heard she ate a full breakfast.”
“But not the potatoes,” Juli insisted.
“No, not the potatoes,” Christine solemnly agreed as she crouched down and kissed Juli’s cheeks.
