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Authors: Gilbert Morris

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BOOK: The Rough Rider
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“I think we’ll have a few more today, Reverend.” She always referred to Awful as Reverend, even though he insisted that she shouldn’t. It seemed to give her pleasure to honor the man. There was a quietness about this girl. She was lively enough when speaking to the men and women whom they took in off the streets, and was always cheerful with them and full of encouragement. Yet, for some reason, there was a mysterious wall around her. She never spoke about her past, and Awful was careful not to ask her about it. As they began to pull the meal together, Awful mentioned to her about Gail and what Dr. Burns had said.

Deborah listened carefully, asked a few questions, then nodded. She agreed that it would be a wonderful opportunity
for Gail. Deborah had been sharing a room with Gail for a time and had gotten to know the young woman quite well. Deborah knew that Gail really didn’t have anything to go back to at home. From their little talks, and the bits of information Gail confided in her from Jeb, the situation at home had only worsened. Gail had at least brought in some extra money, but now with her gone, Harry Lawson’s anger seemed to fall on everyone of late, including his own children. He no longer had Gail’s money to spend on drink and, therefore, came down hard on the others to find work.

“The doctor said there would be a room provided for her at the hospital, if she wanted it, so she could be close to her work. Sort of a dormitory for the young women in the program, I take it.” He shook his head and said, “I don’t see how it’ll happen, though, unless the good Lord sends the cash!”

“It’s only a matter of money, then?” asked Deborah as she sliced a loaf of bread.

“Only that, but you know how money is—the world runs on it.”

Deborah Laurent moved to the blackened stove and began to spoon the greens out of the huge pot into a bowl. She was as careful and methodical at this as she was at all things, and nothing showed on her face. Finally, when the chore was finished, she turned to Awful and said, with a slight smile, “I think something might be done.”

****

Dr. Burns had just finished his examination of one of his patients and was about to go to another ward when Agnes Smith interrupted his rounds. “There’s a young woman who wants to see you, Doctor. I don’t know what she’s after. She won’t say.”

“Well, what’s her name?”

“Deborah Laurent,” she said, “or some funny name like that. She’s waiting in your office. Be careful of her—these young women—they’re all out after a husband.”

Burns laughed. He could not resist reaching over and giving the large woman a hug. He knew it confused her and yet delighted her all the same, though she never stopped fussing about it. “You think every woman in New York is out to marry me. I wish I were half the man you think I am, Agnes.”

“That’s all very well, but you mind what I say. Now, stop mauling me,” she said, but did not pull away. When the young doctor left and walked down the corridor toward his office, her eyes followed him fondly.

When Burns opened the door to his office, he found the young woman standing there. She was wearing an inexpensive dress, and yet he sensed an inner strength about the girl, a serenity that impressed him. Her dress had been out of fashion for several years, but it was clean and neat. “I’m Dr. Burns,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

“My name is Deborah Laurent, Dr. Burns.”

“Ah, yes, Mr. Gardner’s told me about you. You’re doing a fine job at the mission,” he said.

“Reverend Gardner’s very kind.”

“Won’t you sit down?” said Burns, motioning her toward one of the chairs.

“Thank you.” Deborah took a seat, then in a very straightforward manner said, “I’ve come to talk to you about Gail Summers and about—other things.”

“Oh, you know Gail, of course.”

“Yes, she’s been staying with me in my room since she came to the mission. She’s a precious girl, and I can’t see any future for her if she goes back home.”

“No, it’s a terrible situation, and she’s worried about her brother, too.”

“Yes, I know. We’re praying about that. In the meantime, I wanted to talk to you about this program for nursing assistants. I don’t quite understand it. What would it mean exactly?”

Burns blinked his eyes with surprise at the girl’s interest. Walking behind his desk he took a seat and began to explain
the program. When he’d finished, he shrugged and said, “It’s not the best thing in the world, but doctors need help. It takes a long time to train a nurse, but this short-term program would adequately prepare a woman to do most things. Then, later on, they can go on and continue their education and become full-fledged nurses.”

“And you think Gail would be able to do this?”

“Oh, I’m sure she could—it’s just a matter of finances.”

Deborah Laurent was silent for a moment. There was an unusual quietness about this woman. She was not beautiful, yet there was a winsomeness about her. She had a trim figure, Burns noticed, and was not like some of the women that sometimes drifted into the Water Street Mission. Somehow, there was a reticence in her that he felt was habitual. She was evidently a young woman who thought deeply and slowly, and he waited until she spoke.

“I would like to pay Gail’s expenses for this program—and I would like to join it myself, if that is possible, Dr. Burns.”

“Why . . . of course,” Burns stammered. He was taken aback at the ease with which Miss Laurent had made the generous offer. “I’m sure the hospital would be most fortunate to receive both of you into the program. Are you certain this is what you want to do?” He wanted to inquire about her finances, but something about the young woman’s bearing made him know instinctively that to question her on this point would not be right.

“Yes, I’m sure. And I would request that you promise not to reveal to Gail the source of this gift, please.”

“Of course, Miss Laurent,” said Burns, amazed at this young woman sitting across from him.

“When will the program begin?”

“Why, it can begin at once. The new classes started a week ago, but I’m sure you and Gail could catch up easily.”

“Would you like to tell Gail about this or should I do it?”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I’d like to talk to her myself. If
you could wait for a few moments, I think I could arrange to go with you.”

It took a little doing, mostly explaining to Nurse Smith that he was not running away with the young woman. “We’ll get two assistant nurses out of this. Don’t worry, Agnes—you know Gail, and this one seems to be even more mature.”

Dr. Burns hailed a cabbie, and after helping Deborah Laurent up, the two of them made their way to the Water Street Mission. Awful Gardner was standing in front of the mission when the driver of the cab reined the horses to a stop. He had a twinkle in his eyes when he saw who the occupants were that stepped down. Dr. Burns and Deborah greeted him and quickly told him that Gail was going to be able to join her in the nurses’ program at Baxter.

“Well, the good Lord has answered our prayers, then,” smiled Gardner as he sent them off to the backyard where they found Gail washing clothes. She turned to them and her eyes widened with surprise.

“We have good news for you, Gail!” Burns turned to Deborah and said, “You have a real friend here in Miss Laurent.”

“What is it?” Gail asked quickly.

“We’ve been looking at a program at the hospital—the assistant nurse program—are you familiar with it?”

Gail had heard of it, but had not felt the slightest chance of taking part. She knew it was expensive and far beyond her hopes, so it never entered her head. “I don’t have any money!” she protested. “I can’t do it!”

“That’s all taken care of. The two of you will be going into it together.”

“Won’t that be fun?” Deborah said to Gail. She went over to the younger girl and put her arm around her. “We’ll be working together and living together in the dormitory at the hospital. Will you do it?”

Gail looked at the young woman steadily and could not speak. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears, and all she could do was nod silently.

Burns saw the girl’s emotion and said gruffly, “Well, well, I’ll be your boss now, so you must expect hard treatment. I’m a hard man to get along with. Everybody says that.”

Deborah Laurent turned and a small smile touched her lips. “I can see you’re an ogre, Dr. Burns. But we’ll try to put up with it—won’t we, Gail?”

Gail brushed the tears from her eyes. Her lips trembled, but then she smiled and whispered, “Yes, we’ll put up with you, Dr. Burns.” She hesitated, then offered him a beautiful smile. “I don’t think that will be too hard!”

CHAPTER THREE

A Christmas to Remember

Several dozen people had gathered in the small reception room of Baxter Hospital. The room was gaily decorated with boughs of evergreens festooned around the walls, and shiny crimson holly berries caught the reflection from the lights. At one end of the room a small tree sparkled with colorful decorations, and at its feet were several ornately wrapped packages. The Christmas season had invaded all of New York—even the rather grim and gloomy halls of Baxter Hospital.

Dr. Alex Templeton, the administrator of the hospital, looked around with satisfaction. He was standing at a table laden with several varieties of refreshments, including punch, chocolate, lemonade, cakes, and cookies to start off the holiday season. Turning to the young man beside him, Dr. Templeton said, “Well, Burns, we’ll celebrate the end of your second year at Baxter. It was about Christmastime that you came, if I remember correctly.”

Burns smiled and sipped hot chocolate from the mug in his hand. “Yes, sir, it’s been a very good time for me. I’ve learned a great deal.”

“Decidedly so—and I must congratulate you. Your service here has been exceptional. I hope you’ll stay with us for a long time.”

“I have no other plans, Dr. Templeton.”

Templeton nodded with satisfaction. He was a tall, distinguished-looking man with a full Van Dyke beard and gray
hair. He wore a well-cut single-breasted suit with matching waistcoat and trousers. His immaculate white shirt had a winged collar and his cravat was neatly tied. “Now, then,” he said, “I suppose we’ll have to honor these dedicated young ladies.”

“Yes, sir,” Burns nodded. “I think they deserve it. They’ve all done a fine job.”

“Exactly so.” Templeton sat down, and his voice, a piercing tenor, rose above the hubbub of conversation. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he cried, “may I have your attention, please!” He waited for it to quiet down and then smiled. He was a man who loved his theater, having told more than one that he would have done well had he not chosen to pursue medicine. “We’re here tonight to celebrate the Christmas season, of course, and as head of Baxter Hospital and on behalf of the Board of Trustees, I wish you all a most happy holiday season, a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to come!” He waited for the returning answer and then said, “If you young ladies will come forward—it will be my distinguished privilege to present you with your certificates.”

At once, the crowd began shifting itself and nine women, ranging all the way from Gail—who was the youngest at eighteen, to Mary Huggins, who was the oldest at thirty-two—came to stand in an irregular line before the administrator. Dr. Templeton beamed at them and launched into his speech. With an excited and captive audience, he could no more give a short speech than he could leap over Baxter Hospital, for he was a man who loved the sound of his own voice. Gail, standing next to Deborah, covered her smile and leaned to one side, nudging Deborah, so that the two of them laughed inwardly at the loquacious physician as his words rolled on and on in a sort of linguistic Niagara. Finally, however, it came to an end.

“And so, it is my privilege to confer upon you these certificates which state that you have satisfied all the necessary requirements and hereby have been certified by Baxter Hospital
and the Board of Trustees to serve as assistants to nurses and physicians. Your training has been hard and arduous, but you have been faithful to carry out your duties. So, as I call out your name, please step forward. Helen Abraham . . . Susan Blakely . . . Miriam Helfinger . . .”

Gail was the last to be called, and as she stepped forward she felt a thrill of accomplishment beat in her heart, for she had thrown herself into the course with all her strength. She had been accustomed to hard work, but the past nine months had been especially difficult. Unknown to her employer, she had done extra work to make a little money. This small amount had gone to her mother, who had secretly managed to pay for a few luxuries for herself and especially for Gail’s brother, Jeb. As Gail reached out and took the certificate with her left hand and shook the firm hand of Dr. Templeton, a sense of triumph swelled through her. At last, she had done something right!

Dr. Templeton beamed at the young ladies, saying, “Now, let’s have a hearty round of applause for these fine additions to the medical profession!”

The room broke out in applause, and Dr. Burns quickly stepped forward to congratulate Gail. He took her hand in both of his and gently squeezed it. His long, Scottish face was beaming with unchecked pleasure as he said, “Congratulations, Gail! I’m so proud of you, I could burst!”

“I couldn’t have done it if it weren’t for you,” she whispered.

“Oh, that’s nonsense—you did it all yourself! Come, let’s go congratulate Deborah and the others.”

There was a flurry of talk as the ladies were congratulated by the visitors, who were mostly relatives and the staff. Agnes Smith came to tower over Deborah, saying rather sternly, “Well, you did make it after all!”

Deborah was amused by the large woman. “Yes, Mrs. Smith—I did!”

“Now see to it that you don’t forget what you were taught.”
Agnes was actually pleased about the two girls—who had been her pets—although she’d never shown the slightest favoritism. She glanced over at Dr. Burns, who was grinning broadly. “I suppose you take all the credit for their success. Men usually do things like that.”

“Why certainly, Agnes.” Burns winked at the two girls, his face averted from the large woman. “We men are a terrible lot, but I must say that I’m very proud of our young ladies.”

BOOK: The Rough Rider
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ads

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