Donovan's Daughter (The Californians, Book 4) (32 page)

Then Dr. Montgomery had shown him the verses
right out of the Bible, and Sydney had suddenly really
wanted to know Christ. The verses he read gave him
hope, more hope than he would have believed possible.
And with this new hope burgeoning within him, it was
very easy to sit quietly and wait for his teacher to open
her eyes.

Marcail kept her head bent for some time, praying that
Sydney's decision had been real, and not just something
done to please her. She honestly saw no other way for
him to become a sound, well-adjusted adult. Marcail
trusted in God to change him, especially since his home
life was so lacking in proper discipline. Sydney needed
someone to answer to, and who more perfect than a
loving heavenly Father.

Marcail asked God to become very real to Sydney in
the weeks to come, so that even though he now had
someone to answer to, he would understand that God
was the most loving father any boy could want.

When Marcail finally raised her head, she found Sydney
smiling at her. Marcail held her arms out once again, and
this time there were no words of apology or regret, just
genuine love between two of God's children.

In the days and weeks that followed, Marcail saw that
Sydney's conversion had been genuine. She learned in
the first week that her speculation over why he had
tripped her had been correct. But his remorse over the
incident was sincere, and the changes in him proved it.

Marcail was not certain what he said to his grandmother, but nearly every afternoon the Duckworth
carriage was late. He would stay after school to talk, ask
questions about the Bible, or recite the latest verse he was
memorizing.

Life in the classroom was not without its flaws, but
Marcail was thrilled with the new Sydney. In fact, the
entire class responded positively to the changes they
saw in him. Marcail shared privately with the children
she knew were praying for her and for Sydney. They
continued their prayers, only this time they prayed that
Sydney would grow in the Lord.

The weather was improving, and the class was now
able to spend extra time out of doors, working on everything from nature projects to their spelling lessons. The
end of the year was drawing to a close at an alarming
rate. Even though Marcail was very pleased with the
year, a dark shadow lay over her heart. It seemed the closer she and Sydney became, the further Alex and she
moved apart.

He no longer took her home since the weather was so
warm. In fact some mornings when Alex had to be out
the door very early, she walked to school. This was really
not a problem, but the most evident change in their
relationship was the fact that he stopped touching her.

As they rode Kelsey, his touch was an impersonal one.
He no longer kissed her goodbye or even walked her
inside the schoolhouse once they arrived. At one time,
Marcail would have said she preferred it this way, but
she was discovering with heartrending clarity that she
missed her husband's touch.

He was never rude or short-tempered with her, but
along with his touch, the fun, light teasing he'd always
lavished on her had also left their marriage. Much of the
time he was busy at the office, but even when they did
spend time together, it was like living with a polite
stranger. Marcail would have been surprised to learn
that Alex would have described her the same way.

Something had died inside of Alex when he found his
wife so severely injured and knew that if it had been up
to her she would never have told him. He had really
believed they'd come a long way, but it seemed all feelings of love and trust had been-on-his part.

He tried to understand how shocked and upset she'd
been after the fall, but her reserved attitude toward him
continued even after Sydney had come to the Lord. At a
time when he thought she would be walking on a cloud,
she was as aloof and cold to him as when they'd talked
months before on the road to the schoolhouse. Both
husband and wife needed a good dose of togetherness,
with no patient or student interruptions.

The last day of school was only two weeks away when
Marcail decided she needed to remind Alex that she was
going to Santa Rosa. If things had been warmer between
them, she would also have reminded him that he had
planned to accompany her. Now, however, her pride had
come to the fore, and she told herself she wasn't going to
beg him to do something he didn't want to do. It never
once occurred to her not to go, or to wait until he brought
the subject up.

They were having a rare evening alone when Marcail
finally filled him in on her plans. Alex didn't say much
from his place on a living room chair. He nodded quietly
as she spoke, until she told him she wouldn't be back
until the end of June.

"The end of June?"

"That's right." Marcail's chin raised slightly. "I haven't
seen my family since Christmas, and with school out,
there is really no reason for me to stay here all summer."

If she had slapped Alex in the face, she couldn't have
hurt him more. Marcail hadn't meant it the way it sounded,
and had it not been for the brief expression of pain she
saw in his eyes, she wouldn't have said a word. But she
had seen Alex's look of hurt, however brief, and decided
to remind him that he'd planned to go.

"I thought maybe you'd come with me." Her voice
was hesitant.

"I can't be gone an entire month," he told her softly.

"Then maybe you could come for half the time." Marcail wasn't sure why she said that after she'd told herself
she wasn't going to beg.

"Are you sure you wouldn't mind my going along?"
Alex was feeling too vulnerable to agree straight out-ofhand.

"I know my family wants to meet you." Marcail evaded
the question neatly.

So that's why I'm going-to meet your family, Alex thought
to himself. At the same time he knew someone was
going to have to bend in this cold war in which they
were now engaged. He was desperate enough at the
moment to be that someone.

'All right; I'll stay for two weeks. When did you plan
on leaving?"

"Saturday, a week from today. The day after school is
out."

Alex nodded again and went back to the book in his
lap. Marcail's eyes dropped to her school lesson, but she
stared sightlessly at the page. The only thing she could
see right then was her room at Kaitlin and Rigg's. It sat at
the bottom of the stairs and sported one double bed.

It was a very silent couple that boarded the train for
Santa Rosa on Saturday, June 4. Kelsey had been delivered to the livery, and Alex had arranged to have the
local veterinarian cover for him. It wasn't the same as
having a doctor on call, but none of Alex's female patients
were expecting, and having the elderly Dr. Crow on hand
was better than nothing.

Marcail sat by the window, and Alex took the aisle
seat. There was little conversation between them for the
first 15 miles, until a sudden shifting of the car caused
Marcail to fall into Alex's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she said as she righted herself in the seat.

"I don't mind. I'm still getting used to the fact that you
don't sleep on the train."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Linette never lasted more than two miles."

Marcail looked into his face as he spoke and suddenly
realized how much she missed his talking with her.

"You never talk about her; is it very hard for you?"

"It was at first," Alex admitted, not understanding
just yet that this was Marcail's way of trying to open the
door that had been shut between them for so many weeks. "It's been four years, however, and time does
heal."

"You grew up together, didn't you?" Marcail tried
again when it seemed Alex would not go on.

"Yes. My folks have told me we were inseparable from
the first time we laid eyes on each other. I don't know if
we should have been married, but we were." Again Alex
hesitated.

"Why do you say that?" Marcail was surprised.

"Oh, I didn't really mean it the way it sounded, but we
were such good friends. As kids I'd always been her
champion, and we could talk about anything, even
argue, and still walk away as friends.

"But then later our friendship made our marriage
difficult. I think I must have been more like a big brother
to, Linette than a husband. She always believed it was my
job to make her happy. She came to depend on me so
heavily that when she became miserable living in Willits
it put quite a strain on our marriage."

"Why didn't she like Willits?" Marcail wasn't certain
that any of this was her business, but Alex was really
talking to her for the first time since she'd fallen down
the schoolhouse steps, and she desperately wanted him
to continue.

"It wasn't Willits specifically-that was the problem.
Linette never wanted to live away from Fort Bragg. She
couldn't seem to grasp that Fort Bragg already had two
doctors and I needed to go elsewhere. I was thankful we
were able to be as close as we were, but it wasn't good
enough for her." Alex paused, his eyes staring out the
window at nothing. Some of the pain flooded back to
him.

"How did she die?" Marcail couldn't keep from asking.

"The actual cause of death was a head injury when she
fell from a chair, but the fall, or rather the weakness that
brought her off the chair, was caused by tuberculosis. In
the mid to late stages of tuberculosis, patients run fevers
in the afternoon and evenings, and Linette was trying to
do too much when she wasn't up to it. I think she must
have become a bit dizzy while on that chair, or possibly
fainted."

Sharing absently about his past without really looking
at his wife, Alex now turned to find that Marcail had
gone very pale. She also looked tremendously griefstricken, more grief-stricken than she should have been
for a woman she didn't even know.

"What is it, Marcail? What did I say?"

"My mother died of tuberculosis," she admitted softly.
"It's amazing what you can block out. I'd completely
forgotten how ill she'd been every evening."

"How old were you when she died?"

"Nine."

Alex's heart broke just a little at the thought. A child is
so young, and so much in need of a mother, when only
nine years old. Alex wanted to say something, but Marcail was ready to talk and there was no need.

"They kept her illness from us until we arrived in San
Francisco. I'll never forget the first time I saw my aunt's
house. It was huge. I'd never been away from Hawaii,
and I didn't know they made houses like that. I was
terrified of it. I remember holding onto my mother's
hand with all my might as she led me inside. Her hand
was so hot I thought she must be scared too.

"We had a few days of rest, but I could tell something
was wrong. Katie and Sean were not as fun as they had
been, and I thought maybe they were as sad about leaving Hawaii as I was. Then one night when Mother and Father put me to bed, Mother said the doctor had been to
see her.