Authors: Al Lacy
As Dr. Dane was thanking Dr. Fraser for filling in for him, a wagon thundered to a halt outside. A young man in his early twenties hopped down from the driver’s seat and dashed toward the door. A second man on his knees in the wagon bed bent over
what would seem to be another person. A sign on the side of the wagon read:
HOLTON COAL MINE—CENTRAL CITY, COLORADO
.
“Something’s happened at the mine!” exclaimed the older physician and rushed to the open door as the young man bounded onto the boardwalk, his face coated with coal dust and his eyes wide.
As he approached the older doctor, he said, “Dr. Fraser! Ben Frye fell down one of the mine shafts! He’s hurt bad!”
Dr. Dane was quickly at Fraser’s side, and the elderly doctor said, “Greg, this is Dr. Dane Logan. He owns the practice now. Dr. Logan, this is Greg Holton, the son of Kirby Holton, who owns the mine. Ben Frye is the mines foreman.”
“Glad to meet you, Greg,” said Dr. Dane. “Let’s see about Mr. Frye.” As he spoke, he rushed out the door to the wagon with young Holton on his heels. Dr. Fraser followed as hastily as he could.
The two women looked on from the open office door as Dr. Dane bounded over the tailgate, told the kneeling man who he was, and began examining the mine foreman, a man in his midfifties.
At the side of the wagon, Greg Holton said, “Dr. Logan, this man next to Ben is Art Berman, the assistant foreman.”
Dr. Dane looked up briefly, nodded at Berman, then went back to his examination.
Greg said, “Art, I’m gonna run home and tell Dad about Ben’s fall. He will want to come and see him.”
“Sure,” said Art. “He’d want to know as soon as possible about this.”
Greg hurried away.
After looking a moaning Ben Frye over and asking him questions about his pain, Dr. Dane said, “Mr. Berman, we have a stretcher in the office. I’ll get it, and I’ll need you to help me carry him inside.”
Berman nodded. “Certainly, Doctor.”
Just as Dr. Dane hopped out of the wagon bed, Nadine Wahl came out the door, carrying the stretcher. Dr. Dane thanked her, took it, and as Greg Holton opened the tailgate, he laid the stretcher at the rear of the wagon bed.
Tharyn told Nadine she would help her husband with the injured mine foreman, and asked if she could get an apron. Nadine guided her to the examining room behind the office and soon had her clad in a starched full-length apron with shoulder straps, which she wore over her dress.
A few minutes later, while Dr. Dane and Art Berman were carrying the stretcher bearing the mine foreman into the examining room, Tharyn and Nadine were finishing their task of placing a clean sheet on the nearest examination table.
Dr. Fraser came in behind the two men carrying the stretcher. When they laid the stretcher on the table, they carefully lifted Ben Frye enough for the elderly physician to slip the stretcher out from under him. Dr. Dane caught sight of Tharyn wheeling a medicine cart up beside the table.
Nadine commented that since Tharyn was there to help, she would go back to her paperwork in the office.
Art Berman asked Dr. Dane if he could stay as long as he stood back from the table. Dr. Dane agreed.
Tharyn caught Dane’s eye as he began removing Ben’s shirt. He gave her a little smile and nodded his head to tell her he knew she would have everything ready and waiting for him to work on his patient.
Dr. Fraser moved up and stood at the foot of the table, indicating that he was there if needed, but would not get in Dr. Dane’s way.
Tharyn stepped to the far side of the table and waited for her husband to tell her what to do next. A thrill of pure satisfaction reached her heart.
Well, here we are
, she thought.
Dane and I working together. This is exactly where God wants us to be, and I couldn’t be happier. What a wonderful—
“Tharyn,” came Dane’s voice, “would you please wash the coal dust off of Mr. Frye’s face and clean the cuts on his temple and his neck? I’ll go wash my hands and be right back.”
Tharyn quickly began washing the injured man’s face.
Thank You, Lord
, she prayed in her heart,
for letting me be here at Dane’s side. Please give him wisdom as he tends to this patient
.
While washing off the coal dust, Tharyn spoke softly to the mine foreman, explaining that when she had removed the coal dust, she would be using pure alcohol to clean his cuts. She warned that it would burn some. At the same instant, Dr. Dane drew up to his position on the opposite side of the table.
Ben Frye nodded and closed his eyes, putting himself in their care. He winced and a small groan escaped his lips when she applied the alcohol to the first cut on his temple.
Dr. Dane began making a thorough examination of the injured mine foreman from the waist up, where the pain was centered. At the same time, he asked Art Berman how the fall happened and how far the foreman had fallen.
Berman explained that Ben was standing at the edge of one of the mine shafts, talking to a miner. The cage in that shaft was on its way down into the mine, carrying two miners and an empty rail car. The cage was about forty feet below the earths surface when a strong gust of wind came down off the high peaks, causing Ben to lose his balance and fall into the shaft. He landed on the top of the cage, which made his fall right at forty feet.
“Forty feet, eh?” said Dr. Dane. “That’s like falling from the fourth story of a building. Enough to do some serious damage.”
Dr. Dane asked Dr. Fraser to move up beside him as he continued the examination, wanting the older physician’s experienced eyes and hands nearby if needed.
Knowing how far the foreman had fallen, the doctors worked carefully to ascertain just how badly he was injured. Tharyn stood by to help.
N
adine Wahl was just entering the office from the examination and surgical room when she saw Greg Holton and his father coming in from the boardwalk.
Kirby Holton, who was in his late forties, was obviously very much concerned for his foreman as he stepped ahead of Greg and said, “Nadine, how’s Ben doing? How bad is he hurt?”
Nadine smiled. “I’m glad to tell you that his life is not in danger, Mr. Holton.”
Kirby sighed and put an arm around his son, who was now standing at his side. “Oh, Nadine, I’m so glad to know Ben’s not going to die.”
“We all are, Mr. Holton. As soon as Dr. Logan advised Art Berman that Ben would live, he went back to the mine.”
“Good. Since Ben’s not there, Art sure needs to be. What are Ben’s injuries and how serious are they?”
“It’s best that I let Dr. Logan explain the injuries, Mr. Holton. Why don’t you and Greg sit down over there in the waiting area? I’ll advise Dr. Logan that you’re here. I’m sure he will come and talk to you as soon as he and Dr. Fraser are finished getting Ben all bandaged up.”
Kirby thanked her, and as he and Greg were heading for the
nearby waiting area, Nadine hurried through the door that led to the examination room.
As she moved up to the table, Tharyn was standing by with a three-inch-wide roll of heavy cloth in hand while the two doctors were wrapping Ben Frye’s upper body with a length of it. Ben’s eyes were closed, and he was gritting his teeth, obviously in pain.
“Dr. Logan,” said Nadine, “Kirby Holton is here with Greg. I told him that Ben’s injuries are not life threatening, but he wants to hear about them from you. He and Greg will wait till you can talk to them.”
“All right, Nadine. Tell them it will be about half an hour.”
“I’ll tell them.” With that, she turned and moved out the door.
While the doctors continued to work on Ben, Dr. Dane said, “I’ve worked on Greg for some minor injuries a couple of times since taking over the practice. As I recall, he said his mother died of consumption nine years ago.”
Dr. Fraser nodded, keeping his attention on what they were doing. “Yes.”
“I’ve only met Kirby one time. It was on the street shortly after I had taken care of Gregs second injury. He seems to be a nice guy.”
“He is. Pastor Shane has made many a call at the Holton mansion, but both Kirby and Greg show no interest in the Lord. But knowing my pastor, he will keep trying to win them to Christ.”
“We can’t give up on people. It’s our job to give them the gospel, and the Lord is able to bring just the right circumstances into their lives that will turn them to Him.”
Kirby and Greg had been sitting in the waiting area about twenty-five minutes when the door of the examining room opened and Dr. Dane Logan came out. Sitting at her desk, Nadine smiled at him as he walked past her, and he smiled back.
Kirby jumped off his chair and headed toward the doctor, and Greg followed.
As Kirby drew up, he said, “Dr. Logan, I really appreciate the work you and Dr. Fraser are doing on Ben. Nadine told Greg and me that Ben’s injuries are not life threatening.”
“Ben will live, Mr. Holton, but he’s got a lot of healing to do. His right arm is broken and he has four cracked ribs, along with a deep cut on his left temple and two lacerations on his neck. The arm is in a sling, and his ribs are wrapped tightly with heavy cloth. I’m estimating that it’ll be some six to eight weeks before he can return to work.”
Kirby nodded. “Well, at least he’ll be returning to work. That fall could have killed him.”
“For sure. Ben can go home in a couple of hours. I’ll need to check on him three times a week so the bandages can be changed and I can be sure the ribs stay wrapped securely.”
Kirby smiled. “I appreciate your taking such good care of him, Doctor. And will you send the bill to me? I’ll pay it.”
“Whatever you say. My wife is taking over for Nadine. I’ll advise her to send the bill to you.”
“Fine. I’ll send Greg and another man back in a couple of hours to take Ben home. Could—could I see Ben before we go?”
“Of course. But only for a few minutes.”
“I’ll wait here, Dad,” said Greg.
Kirby had been with Ben less than five minutes when he returned to the office. He told Nadine she would be missed, but that he was glad she could retire.
The father and son climbed into their wagon, and Greg guided the team up the street.
Kirby said, “Son, as long as we’re going right by the hardware store, I need to run in for a minute. I broke my pocketknife this morning, and I need to get a new one.”
“Sure, Dad,” said Greg, angling the wagon toward the hardware store which was a few doors away. “I’ll just wait out here for you.”
Greg halted the wagon at an open space parallel with the boardwalk, and just as Kirby entered the hardware store, Greg noticed two young women coming his way. He recognized blond and lovely Rosemary Snyder, but not the striking brunette with her. Greg had known Rosemary ever since his family had come to Central City when they were both in school together. He was in the ninth grade at the time, and she was in the seventh.
Greg hopped down from the wagon as the two young women drew up. “Hello, Rosemary. Who’s your friend?”
Rosemary smiled. “This is Cassandra Wheatley. Cassandra, this is Greg Holton. His father is Kirby Holton, who owns the Holton Coal Mine just west of town. Greg is employed at the mine.”
Greg figured Cassandra was about the same age as Rosemary, who was twenty. Cassandra flashed him a winsome smile. “I’m very glad to meet you, Greg.” She offered her hand.
Greg gently took the hand, clicked his heels, and did a slight bow. “Since I’ve still got some coal dust on my face, Miss Cassandra, I won’t kiss your hand.”
Cassandra giggled and said warmly, “I understand, Greg, and I appreciate that.”
“Cassandra is from Aurora, Illinois,” said Rosemary. “She has come to Central City to live with her Aunt Mabel Downing, who lives next door to us. She just arrived three days ago, and already the two of us have become good friends.”
“Well, I’m glad,” said Greg, a questioning look in his eyes.
Observing the look, Cassandra said, “I came to live with Aunt Mabel because both of my parents recently died. I have no other family. Aunt Mabel is my mother’s sister.”
“I’m sorry about your parents. If you ever need anything, please let me know.”
She smiled. “Why, thank you, Greg.”
Greg pointed up to the huge white mansion that stood on the
high side of town to the northwest. Behind it was a towering pine-covered mountain. “That’s where I live, Cassandra. I would count it an honor if I could ever be of service to you.”
Cassandra had noticed the huge three-story house when she first arrived in Central City on a stagecoach three days previously. She knew it had to belong to someone with plenty of money.
Certainly
, she thought,
the man who owns the coal mine has to be rich. And of course, that makes his son rich, too
.
She smiled warmly. “Thank you, Greg. I’ll find a reason soon to take advantage of your offer.”
Greg looked at her dreamily. “You do that.”
Rosemary laughed. “I think you can count on it!”
Cassandra and Greg were both laughing at Rosemary’s quip when Kirby came out of the hardware store and headed for the wagon.
Greg’s laugh faded. “Miss Cassandra, I’ll be waiting with great anticipation.” He then turned his attention to Rosemary. “How’s Phil doing?”