Beloved Physician (33 page)

Dr. Dane nodded. “Good.”

Fraser rose from the desk, placed the file in the cabinet, then turned and cocked his head sideways. “So did you have a good time?”

At the same moment, Tharyn came into the office.

Dane smiled at her, then looked at the elderly doctor as he replied, “I had a very good time. That mine is awesome.”

Fraser nodded. “I knew you’d enjoy it.”

Moving up to him, Tharyn asked, “How about all that darkness? Did it get to you at all?”

“Well, I did experience some claustrophobia in those tunnels and passageways. Those rock walls seemed to be closing in on me at times. Add the darkness to that, and I did feel a little apprehension once in a while.”

“I thought you might. I’m told that most new miners experience that kind of thing for a while.” She reached down and picked up a yellow envelope off the desk. “Charlie Holmes delivered this about an hour ago. He said it’s from Dr. Carroll.”

“Okay.” Taking the envelope in hand, Dr. Dane opened it, took out the telegram, and read it while Tharyn and Dr. Fraser looked on. He set his gaze on Tharyn. “Dr. Carroll wanted to let me know that Nelda is doing well, but he asked us to pray for Dr. Tim Braden. He says Tim is having a very difficult time over Melinda’s death.”

“Bless his heart,” said Tharyn, her eyes growing misty.

“Esther and I will pray for him,” said Dr. Fraser. “Well, I guess I’d better go home. See you later.”

When Dr. Fraser was gone, Dane said, “Honey, I’ll go over to the telegraph office and send two telegrams; one to Dr. Carroll and the other to Tim. I’ll tell Dr. Carroll that I will have Pastor Shane tell the church about Melinda’s death and ask everyone to pray for their brother in Christ, Dr. Tim Braden. In my wire to Tim, I’ll tell him that you and I are holding him up in prayer.”

Tharyn sniffed and wiped the mist from her eyes. “All right, darling. If anyone comes in needing you, I’ll tell them you’ll be back shortly.”

Nearly a half hour had passed when Dr. Dane returned to his office. When he stepped in, there were no patients in the waiting area, and Tharyn was not at her desk.

He moved across the office, opened the door to the back
room, and saw Tharyn standing by the medicine cabinet, her head bent low. She was weeping.

She looked up through her tears as he headed toward her and wept harder.

Dane folded her in his arms. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Tharyn clung to him and laid her head against his chest. She sobbed hard for a moment, then took a deep breath and sniffed. “Like Tim, I’m having a hard time over Melinda’s death. I’m not questioning the Lord, darling. I know He has a plan for all of His children, but some things are just hard to understand.”

She had a hankie in her hand. She used it to wipe tears from her eyes and sniffed again. Her head was still laid against his chest.

Dane’s chin was resting on top of her head. His strong arms held her tight. “I know, love. But we don’t have to understand God’s reasoning. We only need to accept His will, and to remember that in all things, He is sovereign. Let me show you a couple of verses that have meant a lot to me. I’m sure they will help you.”

A Bible lay on a small table nearby. Dane let go of her, stepped to the table, and picked up the Bible. She stepped up close as he flipped pages.

“Here, honey. This one’s in Nahum 1:7. ‘The L
ORD
is good, a strong hold in the day of trouble; and he knoweth them that trust in him.’ ”

Tharyn wiped more tears and looked up at him. “That’s good, honey. Really good.”

Dane flipped back to the Psalms. “Here’s another one that has meant so much to me. Psalm 61:2. ‘From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher than I.’ Claim it as your own, sweetheart. Jesus is the Rock. Take this burden over Melinda’s death to Him. He alone will sustain you as no one else can.”

Tharyn wiped away more tears and looked at the verse as Dane held the Bible in his hands. She read it silently, then looked
up at him again. “Thank you, darling. What a beautiful verse. My heart is indeed overwhelmed. I surely will let the Rock that is higher than I comfort me and give me peace.”

She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him tenderly. “Thank you. Both verses have already given me a measure of peace and strength.”

O
n Sunday morning Greg Holton felt he had never been happier as he guided the buggy off of Main Street and headed for the street where the Downing house was located. The sun was shining brightly in a clear blue sky, and he was excited about the picnic he and Cassandra had planned in the mountains.

Greg was so in love with the beautiful brunette, he could hardly think of anything else but the upcoming day in November when the two of them would stand before the Gilpin County judge and take their marriage vows.

As he turned the corner onto the street where the Downing house stood, he caught sight of Cassandra standing on the front porch, holding the picnic basket. She saw him coming and waved to him. The sight of her fanned the flame in his heart.

He waved back and put the horse to a faster trot. When he pulled up into the yard, his pulse quickened. She was in a blue and yellow dress and had a matching ribbon in her long, black hair. He loved the smoothness of her skin and the way she carried herself. To him, what he saw in her eyes was a knowledge of what life was all about. He felt it in her, and as he hopped out of the buggy while she was coming down the porch steps with the picnic basket in her hand, that profound knowledge
was a quality that came across the space between them and touched him.

Smiling, Cassandra drew up to him. “Good morning, my darling. I’m so excited about our having this day together.”

“Me, too,” he said, taking the basket from her.

She lifted her lips up to him. He looked around to see if anyone in the area was watching them.

She giggled. “Don’t worry about the neighbors. You can kiss me. We’re engaged. Aunt Mabel has already gone to church. And even if she was still here, you could still kiss me.”

Greg kissed her tenderly, then put his arm around her and guided her to the buggy. He placed the picnic basket on the floor behind the front seat, then helped her in. Quickly, he rounded the buggy, climbed in, and sat down beside her. Taking the reins in hand, he put the horse in motion.

Moments later, they turned onto Main Street and headed out of town. Soon they were driving past the church. The windows were open, and they could hear the people singing inside.

Cassandra made a snorting sound and sneered as she looked at the steepled building with the cross on top. “What a waste of time—going to church and singing hymns.”

Greg shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve thought of visiting a service sometime, just to see what it’s like. Pastor Shane has visited Dad and me at our house a few times and showed us things from the Bible that make good sense.”

The muscles of Cassandra’s face tightened at such words, and she felt a hot ball form in her stomach. She told herself she must keep Greg from ever getting interested in church and all that went with it.

She was glad she had already convinced him that when they got married, it would be before the county judge. She didn’t want to get married in a church building before some fanatical Bible preacher.

On Monday morning, Deputy Marshal Len Kurtz was standing on the boardwalk in front of the marshals office just as the sun was rising over the eastern peaks. Marshal Jake Merrell handed his deputy a white envelope. “You know where the Jamison ranch is, don’t you?”

Len nodded. “Mm-hmm. ’Bout five miles southwest of the Holton Mine. Big red barn with white trim, just like the ranch house.”

Jake grinned. “That’s the place. Since Fred Jamison was a witness to that drunken brawl at the saloon on Saturday when that drifter got himself killed, Judge Cook wants him to get this court summons this morning. I figure by sending you right now, you’ll catch him at home, probably doing his chores.”

Sticking the envelope in his vest pocket, Len said, “I’ll see that he gets it right away, Marshal.” With that, he stepped off the boardwalk, mounted his horse, and rode away at a gallop.

Some ten minutes later, Kurtz slowed his horse as he drew near the Holton Coal Mine. The tall rock formations to the rear of the mine were rosy in the golden sunlight. He saw a large group of miners gathered at the two large shafts where the cages glistened in the early sunlight. Kirby Holton was addressing his men, apparently giving them instructions.

Greg Holton was in the group and happened to look toward the road and see the deputy riding by. Kirby had just finished his instructions, and Greg waved and called out, “Hey, Len! Where you going?”

Kurtz told himself he could spare a few minutes to talk to Greg. As he trotted his horse toward Greg, some of the miners climbed in the cages. The mules at the large wheels were put in motion, and the cages began to descend into the shafts while the other miners waited for them to return.

Greg stepped up to Len as he dismounted. “The lawman business starts early, I see. On your way to arrest somebody?”

Len shook his head. “No. Not today, anyway. I just have a court summons to deliver to a rancher who witnessed that brawl at the saloon on Saturday when that drifter got killed.”

“Oh. Well, I won’t keep you. Just wanted to say hi.”

“ ’Preciate that. So you got a hard day’s work ahead of you?”

“You might say that, Len. I’ll be working with a small group of men, drilling holes in the walls of a tunnel so we can place dynamite sticks in them in preparation to blast more coal out of the walls.”

“I see. We’ll be hearing some more of those muffled explosions then, won’t we?”

“Sure will.”

Len ran his gaze over the miners who were waiting for the cages to return so they could go down into the mine. “I think you’ve hired more miners in the past few weeks, haven’t you? I see faces in that group I’ve never seen before.”

“We’ve been hiring new men now for about a month.”

“So how many men do you have working for you?”

“Exactly two hundred and fifty.”

Len started to comment, but was interrupted as Kirby Holton stepped up, spoke to him in a friendly manner, then said to his son, “Greg, I’ll be in my office if you need to talk to me before you go down.”

Greg smiled. “Don’t think I need to, Dad. I’ll see you when we come up for lunch.”

Kirby walked away, and the deputy said, “Well, Greg, I’d better go get this summons delivered. See you later.” As he mounted, he grinned at Greg. “Oh yes. And congratulations. I hear you’re now engaged to that gorgeous brunette.”

“Sure am. And thanks. See you later, Len.”

The deputy trotted away, and Greg headed for the closest shaft
where the cage was just surfacing. He joined some sixteen men who were going down in the cage.

When they reached the bottom, most of the group in the cage headed their respective directions to carry on their routine work. With Greg in the lead, he and six other men in his group moved down the tunnel to the powder houses by the light of carbide lamps that hung along the walls. There they picked up a full box of dynamite sticks, placed it on a small cart along with an unlit kerosene torch affixed to a wrought-iron stand, and with one man pushing the cart, made their way deep into the tunnel where they would set up the dynamite for blasting. The carbide lamps created spooky illuminated pockets in the enveloping darkness.

Each man was carrying a heavy hammer and a steel rod with a sharp point that he would use to drill holes in the walls of the tunnel in which to insert the dynamite sticks.

While they were making their way down the main passageway toward the tunnel where they would work, two of the men began arguing with each other. Greg looked back to see that it was Wayne Lewis and Earl Selby, who he thought were good friends. Facing forward once again, he kept up the pace he had begun. Lewis and Selby kept snapping at each other, and Greg soon picked up that Lewis had loaned Selby some money a few weeks ago, and because Selby had not paid him back as promised, Lewis was calling him some bad names.