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Authors: Kathleen Morgan

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Historical, #General, #Romance

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BOOK: Child of Promise
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“Isn’t it?” His aunt cocked her head. “Five years is a long time not to come home even once. Passing strange, I’d say.”

“Well, Beth’s back now, and it’s a blessing she’s a doctor. Doc Childress doesn’t have many good doctoring years left in him. I can’t think of a more perfect solution.”

“And neither can I,” Millie said. “I just think it’s passing strange she’s stayed away so long. Mark my words, Noah Starr. There’s more to that than meets the eye.”

“So, tell me everything. About your trip home, about your plans, and why you took Doc Childress up on his offer.” As she talked, Abby lifted the roast out onto the serving platter Beth held. “I’m so happy to have you home. I know I’m blathering, but I just can’t help it. I’ve missed you so!”

Beth smiled. It was good to be home. She had forgotten how warm, loving, and safe her house and family had always been. But then, she’d had to forget. Such blessed amnesia had been her only defense against homesickness. She wondered now, though, if coming home might not have been wiser—and ultimately less self-destructive—than had been her choice to stay away.

“Well,” she said as she carried the succulently browned roast to the table and began slicing it, “the trip was uneventful, the train relatively comfortable. Of course, traveling in first class helped a lot.”

Abby nodded from her spot at the cookstove where she was preparing the gravy. “Conor and I finally traveled first class last year, you know, when we attended my mother’s funeral. It was wonderful. I especially liked the dining car. Why, they made me feel like a queen!”

“Speaking of fancy travel, have you heard about the new horseless carriage, the Model T? It was just offered to the public last year and costs eight hundred fifty dollars. Instead of electricity, it runs on gasoline.”

Abby laughed. “Well, at that price, there won’t be a lot of takers anytime soon. Especially not at Culdee Creek.”

“A horse and buggy will do me just fine.” Beth grinned. “I saw a lot of newfangled things in New York City, but sometimes it’s best to stay with the tried and true.”

“I agree.” Abby paused to taste the gravy and add some salt and pepper, then resumed her stirring. “So, what are your plans? There’s no rush in going to work with Doc Childress, is there? We’ve so much catching up to do, and a nice rest and some good food would do you good.”

Beth glanced down at her trim figure. “Are you implying I’m too thin? I prefer to think of myself as fashionably svelte. A waspish waist is all the rage back East, you know.”

Abby made a disgusted sound. “Well, you’re out West now, and you’ll do just fine without a corset crushing all your innards.”

“Actually, I’m not wearing a corset. I gave that up several years ago.”

Her stepmother’s eyes widened in horror. “Then you most definitely need some good food.” She turned back to the gravy. “What’s been going on with you, Beth? Is something wrong?”

Beth sighed. Leave it to Abby to cut right to the heart of things. This was one time, however, when Beth wasn’t about to confide in anyone. Life was different out here. Simpler, kinder, more honorable. They wouldn’t— couldn’t—understand.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just been so busy the past year, I haven’t had much spare time to sleep, much less eat. But all that’s going to change. Grand View’s patient population is nothing like Johns Hopkins’s patients. Even as large as Grand View has grown, this’ll be a virtual holiday after that.”

“Well, if you say so.” Abby gestured to a gravy boat sitting on the table. “Would you hand that to me? The gravy’s ready.”

“And so’s the roast.” Beth passed over the gravy boat. “Anything else that needs doing?”

Abby glanced at the kitchen table. The big bowl of mashed potatoes was ready, as were the green beans and carrots. An apple spice cake, already iced, sat on a sideboard. She shook her head. “Nope. The big table in the dining room’s set. Get your brother and sister in here to help carry out the food.”

Beth made a move to head into the parlor.

“Just one thing more.”

“Yes?” Beth turned. “What is it, Abby?”

“The house is full, but we’ve prepared the bunkhouse for you. You’re more than welcome to stay on here, even after you start work in Grand View, if you want. It’s only a fifteen minute ride to town, after all.”

Beth hesitated. She wanted to see her family, spend time with them, especially with her younger brother and sister. But she also needed time alone to sort everything out. Time to decide how much she wanted to share and how much she wanted to store away in some deep, dark corner and never face again.

Problem was, too many people at Culdee Creek knew her too well. Abby, her father, Evan, Claire, Devlin, and Hannah. Any one of them, at the right time and place, could break down her defenses, and then the truth would come pouring out.

Beth had worked too long and too hard to build those defenses; she wasn’t about to risk them. Not now, freshly home and more vulnerable than she had been in a long while.

She managed what she hoped was a regretful smile. “Thanks so much for the offer. I’d like to stay in the bunkhouse for a few days at least, relax, visit, and eat my fill of your wonderful cooking. I’m thinking, though, that I need to be closer to Grand View and more accessible to Doc and the majority of my patients.”

Abby bit her lip. “Are you sure, Beth? Your father was so looking forward to having the whole family back at Culdee Creek again.”

“Yes, I’m sure. It’s for the best. You’ll see.” She turned, striding out of the room. “And it’s not as if I’ll be all that far away at any rate. Besides, Pa’ll understand. He always has before.”

2

Why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?
Matthew 7:3

Three days later, Beth stood outside Doc Childress’s office and stared in amazement at his shingle. “John Childress, M.D.” the simple black-and-gold sign read. Beneath his name, however, was another name.

“Elizabeth MacKay, M.D.”

Beth swallowed hard. Technically, she had been able to call herself a physician since her graduation from medical school. Patients had addressed her that way, too, during the year of her internship.

Today, though, gazing at that sign, Beth could see her dream finally coalesce into reality. Elizabeth MacKay, M.D. She was a doctor, and now everyone who really mattered knew.

Her hand tightened around the handle of her black medical bag. She blinked back a sudden swell of tears, squared her shoulders, and walked into Doc Childress’s—
their
— medical clinic.

The little three-room office hadn’t changed much over the years. She imagined the tiny living quarters upstairs were pretty much the same, too. The waiting area, empty of patients this early in the day, was pleasantly furnished with a blue-and-white flowered chintz sofa, four straight-back chairs, a few potted plants, and an assistant’s desk. The walls looked freshly painted—utilitarian white as always—a colorful rag rug covered most of the floor, and a pretty set of blue-and-white calico curtains hung at the single window.

Helen Yates, as much a Grand View fixture as Doc Childress, glanced up from her desk in the opposite corner. “Well, well, well,” she said, shoving her spectacles up from the tip of her nose. “If it isn’t our Dr. MacKay.”

Helen rose, came around the desk, and walked over to Beth. With hardly a break in stride, she enveloped Beth in a hearty, breath-stopping hug.

“What a blessing. Oh, what a blessing you are, my sweet girl!”

Beth could do nothing but stand there, grasping her bag. “It-it’s nice to see you again, too, Mrs. Yates,” she all but choked out.

The older woman released her and stepped back, studying her closely. “Call me Helen. Doc does, and you’re now just as much my employer as he is.” A thin gray brow rose. “Don’t they know how to cook back East? Land sakes, but you’re little more than skin and bones.”

With only the greatest of effort, Beth controlled the impulse to roll her eyes. First Abby, now Helen Yates. Did she really look that much in need of mothering?

She managed a laugh. “Have no fear. Abby’s already seeing to that problem. I expect in another week or two, I’ll be pleasingly plump and popping out of all my fine new suits.”

“Sooner than that, once Doc gets a look at you.” Helen leaned close, a conspiratorial grin twisting one corner of her mouth. “Bledsoe’s bakery is only two buildings down. At least three times a week, Doc springs for a few sweets for us to have with our morning coffee.”

Beth chuckled and shook her head. “So is that where Doc’s at? Or hasn’t he come downstairs for the day yet?”

“Oh, yes, he’s here.” Helen pointed to the second of two doors leading off from the waiting room. “Doc’s in there, doing an inventory of his supplies. I told him I could take over that job, but he insisted he likes doing it. Helps him get his head on straight for the new day, he says.” She laughed. “And I’m not one to try to change a man after all these years.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just go say hello then.” Beth set her bag on a nearby chair and began unbuttoning her suit jacket. “No time like the present to jump in and get started.”

Helen held out her hand for Beth’s jacket. “Yes, you do that, Dr. MacKay. I’ll put your things away in the other examining room. Doc bought a desk for that room, so you can also use it as your private office. Later on, look it all over and tell me what else you think you might need.”

“That’ll be fine, Helen.” Beth turned toward the door to Doc Childress’s office, then hesitated. “I’m really looking forward to working with the both of you. It’s a dream come true.”

“For Doc, too.” A pensive look flared in Helen’s eyes. “It took a while for him to admit he needed help. Even now he fights the truth some days. Reckon it’s hard for a man to start facing his limitations.”

“Well, maybe with our help, he won’t have to face as many or as soon.” Beth smiled. “It’s the least we can do, I’d say.”

Helen bobbed her head in agreement. “The very least.”

Beth turned then, took the several steps needed to cross the waiting room, and halted at Doc’s door. She knocked lightly.

“Come in.”

She pushed the door open. The office wasn’t overly large, only about eight by twelve feet. In front of the window at the far end of the room was Doc’s desk, strewn with papers, charts, and several open medical books. A long, narrow table stood against one wall. On it was a brass scale, a metal cylinder holding thermometers, test tubes in a stand, an open tray wherein lay sterilized needles and syringes, and a microscope. Next to the table was a tall cabinet with glass doors, filled with bandages, splints, plaster of paris, catheters, adhesives, an assortment of colored bottles filled with various liquids, another tray with scalpels and holders, and a box of sutures. An examination table and rolling stool completed the medical décor.

Doc Childress glanced up from a box of supplies he was sorting on the exam table. At sight of her, his lined, craggy face broke into a grin.

Hands outstretched, he walked to her. “Welcome, welcome, my dear. I heard of your arrival on Monday but certainly didn’t expect your visit quite so soon. I assumed you’d wish a week or two to rest and spend time with your family.”

“I’d like a few more days to visit, to be sure.” Beth took his hands and gave them a squeeze. “But I also admit to being most eager to begin seeing patients and working with you.

And now that I’m home I can take my leisure visiting Culdee Creek and my family.”

“Visiting?” His voice echoed the surprise in his eyes. “But aren’t you going to live at Culdee Creek and come into town each day?”

“No.” It amused Beth that everyone had presumed such a thing without consulting her. “I haven’t lived at home for five years now, and I confess to cherishing my privacy and independence. I think I’d prefer finding my own place here in Grand View.”

“Well, then we’ll just have to find you a nice place to stay in town.” He released her hands and, his brow furrowing in thought, scratched his chin. “Hmmm, now where’d be a proper place for a very pretty, unmarried young woman to stay?”

Beth eyed Doc with affection. He had definitely aged in the past five years. His hair had thinned until it was little more than a tonsure encompassing a bald pate. His fine blue eyes, behind a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles, had faded and seemed shrouded by sagging lids. His shoulders were stooped, and his long, talented fingers were little more than swollen knobs and twisted digits.

Still, the man she had known and idolized only a step below her father was still comfortingly familiar. His gaze was as sharp and assessing as ever. His voice was strong, his step firm. There was still much—and time enough—for her to learn from him.

“A few families might be willing to take in a boarder,” Doc offered after a moment of thought. “And there’s always Mamie Oatman’s boardinghouse. It’s across the street and four buildings down from here. She might have a room available.” “Mamie’s sounds like a fine idea. I’ll give her a try.”

He nodded. “Tell Mamie I sent you. She likes me.”

Beth arched a dark brow. “Does she now? And are you finally of a mind to start some long overdue courting?”

Doc blushed, removed his spectacles, and commenced to clean them. “Oh, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that.” A small smile quirked the corner of his mouth. “I’ve several possibilities, you know, and a man has to have a care not to leave a trail of broken hearts in his wake.”

“Agreed.” Beth nodded solemnly. “One has to have a care not to be breaking hearts.”

“And what of you?” As he spoke, Doc slipped on his spectacles and indicated the chair pulled up beside his desk. “Leave any broken hearts behind when you left New York?” he asked, walking around to take his own seat behind the desk.

Only my own, she thought grimly. “I really didn’t have much time for socializing, what with medical school and then the internship.” Beth managed a lame smile. “Besides, I figured a long-distance courtship was pointless.”

“Well, no matter. There are plenty of fine, eligible young men in these parts. And I must admit to a bit of selfishness. With marriage comes children, and then I’d be sure to lose you.”

Beth’s stomach clenched. “I’ve no plans to wed, either now or ever.”

The old physician gave a disbelieving snort. “And that’s the most addle-minded thing I think I’ve ever heard you say, Elizabeth MacKay! You can’t just discard the idea of marriage out of hand.”

She inhaled an exasperated breath. She knew Doc meant well, but it really wasn’t any of his business, or anyone else’s for that matter, what she chose to do with her life.

“Forgive me if I sound impertinent, but what does any of this have to do with my medical qualifications?” Beth folded her tension-damp hands in her lap. “If you’re concerned I might up and wed some handsome cowboy in the next month or two, you needn’t worry. Or is it, rather, you’ve problems with me working after I wed—if I ever
was
to wed?”

“No, no, no.” Doc Childress held up his hands in a gesture of conciliation. “Neither do I care if you wed, nor have I problems with you continuing to work for me if you did. I was just trying to make pleasant conversation and put you at ease.” He smiled ruefully. “Unfortunately, I seem to have failed miserably at both.”

Beth wasn’t so sure she believed him. Was Doc like all the rest of his gender? More comfortable when a woman remained in her traditional role and didn’t presume to an equality that wasn’t hers? After all, now that she was here, she presented a threat, fresh from medical school, up to date with all the latest discoveries and techniques.

“You don’t have to put me at ease,” Beth said. “All I want is to be accepted as your colleague. I value your years of experience. I want to learn from you. And though I may be a bit more current on some of the newest practices, that’s nothing to the sheer volume of knowledge you possess.”

“I’d be very interested in hearing about all the newfangled treatments.” Doc’s eyes gleamed with barely suppressed excitement. “So would the physicians in Colorado Springs, I’m sure. Well,” he amended, “most of them anyway. There are a few old fogies who still have trouble accepting a woman doctor. But not me. No, not me.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Since you offered me a partnership, I assumed you were a progressive man. Still, after you began interrogating me about getting married . . .”

“Well, why don’t we just put all that behind us? In the future, I won’t tease you about your romances, if you promise not to tease me, either.”

“Sounds like a fair trade.” Beth grinned, feeling a bit better. They had overcome their first disagreement well enough, she supposed. Time would tell, though. If things didn’t work out with Doc, it wasn’t as if she
had
to stay in Grand View. Colorado Springs was close enough. Given some time, she could make contacts there, feel out fresh job opportunities. Even Denver was a possibility.

Doc shuffled some papers on his desk, then patted them into a stack. He flipped closed a chart, added that to the pile of papers, and finally glanced up.

“Has Helen shown you your new office yet? I had her stock it with all the supplies I thought you might need starting out, but if you find anything lacking—”

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll all be more than adequate. Helen did mention that the other room was my office and examination room, but I haven’t had a chance to see it yet. I wanted to talk with you first and decide when I could get started here.”

“Well, you can begin working for me as soon as you’re ready. I generally see six to twelve patients a day, plus make house calls on another three or four.” He smiled wryly. “And that’s when we’re not in the midst of a diphtheria or influenza epidemic. There’s a lot more I’d like to do, like health screenings at the school, classes on proper nutrition, antepartum and postpartum care . . .”

Beth could feel herself growing excited. “I love to teach. I’d be happy to take on the classes and the health screenings, in addition to seeing whatever patients you’d care to pass on to me.”

“In time. In due time,” Doc said with a laugh. “First, I’d like you to sit in for several days as I see patients, both in the clinic and in the home. Then as new patients come or some of my old ones ask for you, you can take on your own. And we can always consult on any that appear unusual or provide exposure to problems you’ve yet to encounter. Eventually, I’d like to cut down to maybe half a day, three or four days a week, and give you the main responsibility. How does that sound?”

“It sounds perfect. I can start tomorrow!”

Doc laughed again. “Not too eager, are you?” He shoved back his chair and rose, coming around to stand before her. “Well, why not find yourself a place to stay first, get settled in a bit, and show up for work this coming Monday?”

Beth grinned sheepishly. “I guess I do sound a little overanxious, don’t I?”

“Oh, I’m not complaining. I like someone who’s not afraid of a little work and loves doing it. It’s just that following me around for a while also entails any night calls. It’ll be a lot easier on you if you’re already residing in town. Otherwise, every time I have to ring you up on that bothersome telephone, I’ll be waking up the entire MacKay household at Culdee Creek.”

“You find it bothersome, do you?” Beth chuckled. “My sister Erin absolutely adores it. If she’s not ringing up one of her friends, she’s listening in on someone’s party line. Abby says she’s warned Erin countless times that if she’s not careful the earpiece is going to grow onto the side of her head.”

Doc chuckled. “Now that’ll make for an interesting new surgical technique, I’d say. A telephonectomy.”

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