Tabitha

by Vikki Kestell

  And Tabitha did see, beginning that first morning, the subtle and not-so-subtle jabs aimed at Cathy—and at herself. Even the male physician teaching the class, Doctor Cranston, managed to differentiate between Tabitha as a student nurse specializing in wound care and Cathy as a medical student. His emphasis established his point of view: Nursing was for women; doctoring was for men. And, of course, nursing—and women—were both below doctoring.

  Cathy’s male counterparts, for the most part, ignored Tabitha, but they glared at Cathy with undisguised dislike.

  “They see me as a threat,” Cathy mentioned to Tabitha, “because I took a spot another man was refused.”

  “But surely you earned your place,” Tabitha sputtered.

  “Oh, indeed, I did. That only makes them more defensive.”

  Cathy, however, did not seem fazed by her treatment. She immersed herself in the learning, and Tabitha followed her example.

  Claire Silverstine came to Tabitha’s office hour at the end of the first week.

  “What can I help you with, Miss Silverstine?” Tabitha did not like how frail the student appeared.

  “I am not sleeping well, Miss Hale. If I could sleep properly, I know I would regain my strength eventually . . .” Her sentence drifted off, unfinished.

  Tabitha remembered the deep fatigue of the past two years. “Is anything in particular keeping you from sleep, Miss Silverstine?”

  Claire shook her head. “I tend to worry. I know it is wrong to worry, but I worry that I will become ill again and be sent home—and those thoughts keep me from falling asleep. Even when I do fall asleep, I have restless, disturbed dreams. When I wake up, I cannot get back to sleep.”

  Tabitha thought for a minute. “Is there an aspect of nursing that particularly interests you, Miss Silverstine?”

  “Oh, yes. I hope to work with ill children. My family has a little farm in Wyoming, and I always nursed the sick animals; my folks say I have a way with animals, but I love children even more. I might not be strong enough to work in a hospital, but I could care for an ailing child in his or her home. I know that families with sickly children need good nursing care—and I could tell them about Jesus at the same time.”

  Claire’s face came alive as she described her goal.

  Tabitha noted the transformation and replied, “I grew up on a small farm, too, Miss Silverstine. May I make a suggestion?”

  “Of course! Please do.”

  “I would like to suggest that before you retire each night, you lay this dream of nursing children before the Lord. Tell him how you desire to serve him in the capacity of a nurse. Then lay your worries before him. Scripture admonishes us as Christians to cast your care upon him, for he cares for you. If our great God wishes you to serve him in nursing, then will he not empower you to do what he has called you to?”

  Claire’s eyes brimmed with tears. “That is it, exactly. I must give my nursing to him—if my call is his call, then I cannot fail. Thank you.”

  “Shall we pray before you go, Miss Silverstine?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  They bent their heads together and lifted their concerns to God. As they finished, Tabitha prayed aloud, “Lord, in all things, we are yours. You have promised peace to us who keep our minds stayed upon you. Thank you for good sleep for Claire this very night. We pray in the name of Jesus, your Son and our Savior. Amen.”

  The following week, Tabitha nodded as Cathy Worth took the seat beside her in their shared class. “Good morning.”

  “’Morning.” Cathy hid a yawn behind her hand.

  Doctor Cranston called for attention. “Gentlemen. And ladies. If you would be so good as to follow me, we will make rounds. This morning I will demonstrate the practice of debridement on a particularly interesting case.”

  He opened the classroom door and the students filed out behind him. They crossed the campus mall in groups of two or three and entered the hospital through the back entrance. Tabitha and Cathy brought up the rear of the line of students.

  The patient in question had a severe case of cellulitis (a bacterial skin infection) within the dermis of his calf. Tabitha slanted her eyes at the young, inexperienced medical students and was amused to note their horrified or disgusted expressions—and more than a few swallows of nausea.

  “We must remove the necrotized tissue to prevent gangrene, gentlemen. Who will volunteer to assist me?”

  “I will, doctor.” Cathy Worth and Tabitha had spoken at once.

  Doctor Cranston frowned at the two women but nodded. “Very well. Miss Hale, please assist.”

  By that, Tabitha knew he meant her to assist him as a nurse, the proper woman’s role. She was astounded when Cathy suggested, “Perhaps Miss Hale could assist me, sir?”

  Doctor Cranston, still frowning, sputtered, “Really! I wonder that you have the skill for this delicate of a procedure, Miss Worth.”

  “My father is a physician. I have done such a procedure under his tutelage several times, doctor.” Cathy was respectful and matter-of-fact, and Tabitha admired her even more for her composure.

  Under the disapproving glare of some of their classmates, Cathy and Tabitha worked together to debride and clean the patient’s infected calf. Tabitha assisted Cathy as she would any other doctor, but she also spoke as they worked, providing a running commentary for the rest of the class, describing the instruments and steps as Cathy performed them.

  When she happened to look up, she was gratified to see that the male students were too engrossed in the procedure to be shooting Cathy and Tabitha dirty looks. Even Doctor Cranston nodded in grudging approval as Cathy and Tabitha finished up.

  “Well! Hmm. Just so. Very good, Miss Worth, Miss Hale.” Clearing his throat he addressed the male students. “It seems that Miss Worth and Miss Hale have established the standard you must come up to, gentlemen. See that you do.”

  Tabitha was pleased to see the male students studying Cathy, some with respect, a few with guarded speculation. Cathy and Tabitha exchanged careful glances, and neither of them changed expressions, but Tabitha sighed with relief and pleasure.

  It was a good day. It would be a good year, too.

  ~~**~~

  Chapter 15

  June 1914

  Tabitha peeked out from behind the heavy velvet curtain and scanned the packed auditorium. The room was too full for her to be able to locate her friends, but she knew they were there.

  Today was the day. After all of her hard work, she was, at last, finishing nursing school. For a moment she allowed the accusations, harassment, and intimidation of her second and third year of school to intrude. Then she set them aside and closed the door on that difficult period. For good.

  I have no room in my heart for the pain or offenses of the past, she told herself. Today is for celebrating. Today I am graduating!

  “And not at the bottom of your class, either, Tabs,” she whispered. No, the extra year she spent tutoring and coaching and the extra year of increasing responsibilities had honed her own knowledge and nursing skills. She held the second rank in today’s graduating class.

  O Lord! You always work things around for my good—and for your glory, she rejoiced.

  She walked toward her place in the line, passing Claire as she did so. Claire was toward the head of the line, one of the undergrads carrying the school’s banner. They grinned at each other before Tabitha slid into her position in line and settled.

  All the graduating nurses were dressed in their best uniforms and capes. They had arranged their hair to receive the caps that would be placed upon their heads in this solemn ceremony—caps with the wide black bands signifying their status as nurses.

  Strains of “Land of Hope and Glory,” a march that was becoming the standard for commencements, filled the hall. The line began to move.

  Dean Gunderson smiled into Tabitha’s eyes when she pinned the cap on Tabitha’s head and placed the pin in her palm. “Well done, Nurse Hale,” she whispered.

  Tabi
tha thought her heart would burst. Oh, thank you, Lord! Thank you for this dream becoming a reality, she sang within herself. Truly, you have given me beauty for ashes and turned my mourning into joy.

  When the ceremony ended, the graduates filed from the hall and waited on the lawn for their families to join them. Tabitha did not have to wait long before Rose, Joy, and Breona enveloped her in their arms.

  “’Twas easy findin’ ye in th’ crowd,” Breona grinned, “yer hair bein’ a beacon fer us, so t’ speak!” She and Tabitha hugged with the fierce love and respect they shared.

  “Oh, my dear, we are so proud,” Rose murmured into her ear. “Everyone from home sends their congratulations—but of course you shall see them all soon and they will be able to tell you themselves.”

  “We are going to have a very large party for you when we get back home,” Joy added as she hugged Tabitha. Tabitha was pleased to see Joy looking so well, so rested. And then she spied Edmund O’Dell standing not far away.

  “Why, Mr. O’Dell! I must say I am surprised to see you! I am delighted, of course, but I cannot believe you came all this way just for my—” Tabitha’s words were cut short as she watched Joy slip her arm into O’Dell’s. They looked into each other’s faces and smiled, then smiled together at Tabitha, both a little self-conscious.

  “Well! What is this?” Tabitha demanded.

  She would have put her hands on her hips, but Breona and Rose each took one of Tabitha’s arms and began pulling her away, steering her through the crowd.

  “That, my dear Tabitha,” Rose chuckled, “is an engagement.”

  Tabitha craned her head around to stare at the moonstruck couple who were following behind. “An engagement! Oh, my!”

  “Yis,” Breona laughed. “’tis weddin’ bells in January we’ll b’ hearin’!”

  “Oh, but I am so happy for them!”

  Tabitha wanted to stop and offer them her congratulations. She tried to turn, but Rose and Breona would not release her arms. They seemed intent on pulling her along toward an unseen destination.

  “Why, Miss Rose, where are we going at such a fast clip? And Breona, did you come without your husband?”

  Rose and Breona only laughed and would not answer. They steered Tabitha with a determined purpose toward the street until Tabitha saw a familiar automobile ahead of them and the happy, smiling faces of Carpenter and Banks standing on the curb.

  Carpenter’s arms held a wealth of flowers enveloped in tissue paper. He walked the last few steps to greet her. “Congratulations, Tabs,” he whispered.

  As he placed the flowers in her arms, their sweet and heady fragrance flooded Tabitha’s senses. She inhaled deeply and reveled in the splendor of dark rose and blushing pink stargazer lilies, white Easter lilies, and the delicate tendrils of white spider chrysanthemums nestled in a bed of green fronds.

  “Thank you, Mr. Carpenter,” she whispered back. They stared at each other for a long moment and then he bent toward her and placed a chaste kiss upon her cheek.

  “I am so very, very proud of you, Tabs.”

  Tabitha flushed with pleasure. “I value your esteem more than you know, Mr. Carpenter.” She looked past him toward the grinning Banks and waggled her fingers at him. He rocked back on his heels and grinned larger.

  “I have a bit of a surprise for you, Tabs,” Carpenter added. He looked down. “I hope you will not be too shocked; I pray you will receive my gift in the spirit of true friendship.”

  Tabitha’s brows arched. “Shocked?”

  He nodded, first at her and then, turning to Banks, nodded at him. Banks opened the door of the car and handed out a faded middle-aged woman from the back seat. She was followed by a stooped, gray-headed man whom Banks assisted to stand.

  The couple was dressed modestly; they seemed overwhelmed, though, out of their depth—until the woman caught sight of Tabitha. Her tired face lit with joy.

  “Mama?” Tabitha said the word before her mind could grasp it. Images from her childhood flooded in—she and her mother pumping water and gathering eggs together, her mother’s face singing over her at bedtime.

  “Mama?” She tore her eyes from the woman and fastened them on the man. “Papa?”

  They started toward her, her father leaning heavily upon Banks. Tabitha shoved the flowers at Carpenter and ran to meet them.

  “And once again . . . I am only chopped liver,” he muttered, but his eyes misted over as he said it. With glad satisfaction he watched Tabitha and her mother embrace and then Tabitha take her father’s hand, kiss its palm, and press it to her cheek.

  Rose Thoresen placed her hand upon Carpenter’s arm. “Well done, Mr. Carpenter. I have prayed for God’s timing for this reunion. Thank you.”

  He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and included Breona as she drew near and put her arm about Rose’s waist. “Her father is not well, I am afraid. I had not realized it until they arrived. I took him ’round straightaway to my doctor. He prescribed a medication that makes his chest easier, but . . .”

  He shook his head. “I am glad they are here, that Tabitha will have some time with them.”

  “Will they stay, do you think?” Rose asked. “Will they stay in Denver to be near her?”

  He shook his head. “I think not. Tabitha may be able to persuade them otherwise, but they insisted to me that they will remain a fortnight and then return to their farm.”

  Joy and O’Dell came close to hear their conversation. “Are those Tabitha’s parents, Mama?” Joy asked.

  “Yes. Mr. Carpenter brought them here from Texas as a surprise for Tabitha.”

  “Oh, my!” Joy did not want to stare at the tearful scene taking place a few yards away. She stole another hasty look and turned her back to them.

  Rose asked, “Could we make up a room for them at Palmer House, Breona? What do you think, Joy? Tabitha will want them near her during their visit.”

  “Yis, a’course,” Breona agreed. Joy nodded, too.

  “Then we would love to have them at Palmer House the remainder of their stay,” Rose suggested to Carpenter.

  “That would be the best arrangement for Tabitha,” he admitted. “Yes. If they are willing, I will have Banks move their belongings tomorrow—not that they brought much with them.”

  Breona noticed a young girl watching Tabitha and her parents. The girl was slight, pale and fair. A wistful expression played over her face.

  “Ah. One moment, if ye please,” she said to her friends. She marched over to the girl.

  “Hallo. Air ye bein’ Miss Tabitha’s friend, Claire?”

  The girl started and then smiled. “Yes. Tabitha and I are friends from school. And you are?”

  “M’ name tis bein’ Breona Carmichael.” Breona flashed a grin at the girl and offered her hand. “Ony friend o’ Tabitha ist a friend o’ mine.”

  “Breona! She has told me so much about you! I am Claire Silverstine.”

  “Aye, an’ Claire tis bein’ a foine Irish name!” Breona chortled. “Coome, Claire. Coome meet Tabitha’s other friends, eh?”

  Breona escorted Claire over to Carpenter, Rose, Joy, and O’Dell and made introductions.

  “You did not graduate this year?” Joy asked when names and pleasantries had been exchanged.

  “No, Tabitha is a year ahead of me,” Claire replied. “I should have graduated this year, but I had to interrupt my studies for a year over health reasons. When I returned to school I was still a bit weak and sluggish. Tabitha befriended me and helped me to regain my footing and go forward at a steady pace.”

  She shrugged, that gesture a little sad. “I shall miss her dreadfully now that she has finished. But I shall graduate next year, God willing,”

  “In the three and a half years Tabitha has been at this school, you are the only real friend she made,” Rose murmured. “When she told us about you in her letters, we loved you from afar.” She took Claire’s hands and squeezed them. Joy and Breona added their agreement.

  “D
o all of you live at Palmer House?” the girl asked. “Tabitha has told me so much about it. She considers you her family.”

  “Mr. O’Dell and Mr. Carpenter do not live at Palmer House, of course,” Joy replied. “Breona did live at Palmer House. She is still our housekeeper, but she is a married woman now, and lives with her husband, Isaac Carmichael. Mr. Carmichael is our pastor,” Joy added.

  Soon Tabitha waved them over and introduced her parents to them.

  “And this is my dear friend, Claire,” she told her mother.

  Tabitha’s mother shook Claire’s hand, bobbed her head, but said nothing. It was obvious to all that she was more than a little overcome.

  “Tabitha, perhaps we should have something to eat and then get on the road,” Carpenter suggested.

  “Yes. I am all packed.”

  “If you will lead the way, Banks and I will bring down your things and put them into the trunk. And perhaps Miss Silverstine would accompany us to lunch?”

  “Are you able to come, Claire?” Tabitha asked, glowing with the happiness of this day.

  “Oh, yes! I would love to. The term is over and I am on furlough now.” She made a little face. “Able to leave campus without permission, you know.”

  “Excellent,” Carpenter proclaimed.

  They filled a long table at a local tea room and ordered soup, a selection of sandwiches, and cake. Tabitha seated her mother on one side of her and Claire on the other. Carpenter seated Tabitha’s father across from his wife and daughter and took the seat next to him.

  Tabitha could scarcely believe she was surrounded by so many of her loved ones. She kept glancing at Joy and O’Dell, watching how they tipped their heads toward each other when speaking. She sighed in contentment. Their new love is so beautiful, Lord.

  “Tabitha,” her mother asked, “what will ya do now that ya are a real nurse?”

  Tabitha smiled. “There is a position waiting for me at the hospital in Denver, but I have a month’s holiday before I start. I hardly know how I shall spend an entire month, though. I have not had any time for my own devices in three years.” She laughed and the others joined her.