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Authors: Gilbert Morris

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BOOK: The Rough Rider
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The doctor said merely, “It really is more blessed to give, isn’t it? The Bible’s right about that.”

After they arrived at the tenement and Burns paid the cab driver, they mounted the stairs. When they arrived at the door to the Lawsons’ rooms, Gail hesitated. “I’m a little bit afraid,” she whispered. “You know how Pa is—he might be abusive.”

“I don’t think he’ll abuse Santa Claus, and that’s what you are. Go ahead, knock!”

Encouraged, Gail knocked on the door, and when it opened, she said, “Merry Christmas, Ma! I’ve come to play Santa Claus.”

Martha Lawson, as usual, looked tired, but her faded eyes brightened when she saw her daughter. “Why . . . why, Gail—what’s all this?”

Gail shoved her way past her mother and saw that the evening meal had already taken place. Her stepfather was seated in a rocking chair by the window and was staring out. When he turned to look at her, she was a little shocked at his appearance. He looked ill and his clothes hung loosely on his body. She had not seen him in over a month, but said only, “Hello, Pa! You remember Dr. Burns? We came by—he’s been helping me shop.”

Burns said, “Sorry to barge in like this, Mr. Lawson, but this daughter of yours insisted on playing Santa Claus tonight. I was enlisted to do the donkey work.”

Harry Lawson stared at them. His blunt features were whittled down by sickness. He got up slowly and carefully and said, “Well—come in, I guess.”

“Isn’t Jeb here?” Gail asked, disappointed at not seeing her brother.

“Yeah, I’m here!” Jeb came sailing out of the bedroom. He had grown over the past year and was at least six inches taller. At twelve, he was still thin and lanky and shooting up like a weed. “What’re you doing here, sis?”

She went over and wrapped her arms around him and said, “I’m here to play Santa Claus. It’s not Christmas yet, but I couldn’t wait! How are all of you?” She looked over to where Bart, Riley, and Pearl were sitting on the couch looking a little sheepish at her appearance. They mumbled their greetings, and Gail felt the tension in the room. Quickly she said, “Well, here’s something all of you can enjoy! Let’s have it, Doctor!”

Burns set his bundle down awkwardly, reached into the
sack, and brought out a smaller package. “The prize bird!” he said proudly, holding up a huge plucked chicken. “Already smoked and the fattest hen we could find!” He put it on the table and added to it a cake and several other good things to eat.

Martha reached out and touched the huge chicken with a trembling finger. “I haven’t seen a bird like this in a long time,” she whispered quietly. “It’ll be so good!”

“Well, that takes care of Christmas dinner. Now, here’s what I brought you, Ma.” Gail brought out a package that contained a warm black coat, a pair of real gloves, and a new hat. “This will keep you warm!” She looked at her mother, who was holding the garments almost reverently, stroking the fine wool.

Gail patted her and said, “Now, Pa, this is for you!” She handed him a package, and when Lawson sat there staring at it helplessly, she said, “Go on—open it! It won’t bite you.”

Lawson stared at her with a strange look in his red-veined eyes, then fumbled at the paper, opened it, and held up a pair of fine leather gloves with wool lining inside.

“I know how you hate for your hands to be cold, Pa. These ought to last you a long time,” Gail said.

Harry Lawson had not said thank you often in his life. Now he sat there staring at the gloves as if they had suddenly appeared magically. He could not seem to speak, and it was only when Pearl said, “Go on, Pa—try them on,” that he awkwardly tugged them onto his large hands. He sat there looking at them, and finally he lifted his eyes and whispered, “Thank you, daughter. It was a kind thought.”

It was Jeb’s turn then, and to his delight, he got not only a fine new pair of boots just his size but also a bone-handled pocketknife that he had wanted for years. He stood holding them, and then gave his sister a broad smile that made it all worthwhile. “Thank you, Gail,” he said. “I ain’t ever gonna forget this Christmas.”

Gail passed out the remaining gifts to Bart, Riley, and Pearl, who sheepishly received them, mumbling their thank-you’s.

Finally, when all the gifts had been opened, Martha said, “I wish we had something to give you, Gail, but we don’t.”

“Oh, that’s all right, Ma. Next year things will be better, you’ll see!” A spasm of coughing came from her stepfather and she said, “Pa, are you not feeling well?”

“He had a spell three weeks ago,” Martha said quickly.

“What was it?” Burns inquired, at once aware of the pale face of the big man. He walked over and said, “I’ve got some free medical advice leftover from last year. I wouldn’t mind looking you over while I’m here.”

“Please do, Doctor!” Martha said. “He ain’t been right since then. Go on into the bedroom, Harry. Let the doctor examine you.”

Harry got to his feet and mumbled, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt since you’re already here.” He moved slowly and carefully into the bedroom, and Gail noticed that he was rubbing his chest strangely.

While the two were in the bedroom, Gail told the family about her certificate for completing the medical assistant program. “Now I’ll be able to make some money and help you more,” she said. She talked with all of them for a while and turned to her brother and said, “I haven’t seen you at the mission lately, Jeb. Everyone’s missed you!”

Jeb dropped his head, bit his lip, and handled the bone knife lovingly. “Well, I just ain’t had time, sis,” he said. He was aware of her gaze, and when he lifted his eyes, she couldn’t help noticing the guilt on his face. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be back.”

Gail saw at once that the openness that she’d always appreciated in Jeb was gone. She glanced at her mother, who shook her head warningly, and said no more about it.

Inside the small bedroom, Burns gave Harry Lawson a quick examination, asking questions rapidly. “What was the
sickness like, Mr. Lawson?” he asked as he listened to the man’s heart.

“It was like getting stabbed in the chest, it was!” Lawson said. “Caught me off guard—I was just walking down the street, doing nothing, and all of a sudden it hit me. I had to go sit down—couldn’t draw me breath.” He reached over and picked up his left wrist and said, “And I can’t use my left wrist so good anymore. I ain’t been able to work since.”

“I see. Have you had any pain since then?”

“Once or twice, but not like that first one, though.” Harry Lawson was a man who had never known anything but excellent health. He’d never had a sick day in his life, so the last three weeks had been terrible for him. He said now, as he stared at the doctor with fear in his eyes, “What do you think it is, Doctor? Do you have any medicine that’ll help me?”

Burns shook his head and continued the examination, listening as well as he could to the heart. He asked several more questions, and finally he took a deep breath and said, “Impossible to say really. Hopefully it is nothing, but it is possible that you’ve had a stroke or a mild heart attack.”

“I ain’t never had no heart trouble!” Lawson protested.

“Well, it sounds very much like you’ve had something like that. If I were you I’d get plenty of rest—and drinking isn’t the best thing in the world for a bad heart. I’ll get some medicine for you and send it back with Gail. You need to come to the hospital so I can examine you better.”

“I ain’t got no money.”

“Not necessary—you just come in and ask for me.” Burns had felt nothing but contempt for Harry Lawson, but now he saw the fear that was gripping the big man. He put his hand on the sick man’s shoulder and said, “We’ll hope it’s nothing, Mr. Lawson.” He hesitated, then said, “But I always pray for my patients when they’ve had trouble. Would you mind if I pray for you now?”

The old Harry Lawson would’ve shaken the hand off, and cursed him out the door and all the way down the stairs to
the street. Instead, he bowed his head. The fear had risen in him—a black, sickening fear that took his breath—and he’d realized he was not ready for death. He knew no life but the hard one he had. Silently he nodded, and as the doctor prayed, Lawson remained totally still. When the prayer was over, he mumbled, “Thank you, Doc,” and moved out of the room.

The visit did not last long after that. Gail went around and kissed them all goodbye, and Harry did not know what to do with his hands when she put her arms around him. He’d never understood her, and now for one moment as she held to him, he leaned forward and whispered for her ears only, “Sorry—like!” It was the best he could do and Gail took his meaning, for she knew his ways, and she patted his arm, saying, “I’ll be praying for you, Pa—God can do miracles.”

When the two were outside the house, she asked, “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s had a stroke or heart attack.”

Gail looked at him quickly and asked, “Will he live?”

“Hard to say. Some people who take care of themselves live a long time, but sometimes they have another attack. There’s no way to tell. It’s in God’s hands, Gail. I’ll do what I can for him, though. I promise!”

Gail said, “I feel so bad. He’s had such a hard life and brought so much misery on himself. Now he’s facing the end of it and doesn’t know God.”

“It might be well if we asked Awful and the others at the mission to pray for him. He needs it,” Burns said grimly.

They reached the mission in time for the annual Christmas dinner, and as they entered, Awful met them, saying, “You’re just in time! I want you to meet Katy and Barney—Barney Winslow and Katy Sullivan. They’re two of the group of us that are going to Africa.”

This had come as quite a shock to the community, for Awful Gardner and a small group from the mission had volunteered to leave America and go to the darkest wilds of Africa as
missionaries. Now as Burns shook the hand of the tall man beside him, he said, “I congratulate you—Barney, is it?”

“You might have heard of him,” Awful said. “He was once known as Bat Winslow when he was fighting in the ring. But now he’s fighting for Jesus. Ain’t that right, Bat?”

Barney Winslow was a tall, fine-looking man in his late twenties. “God’s coming up mighty short of preachers to send me.” He reached over and touched the shoulder of the young woman standing beside him. “Katy, here, has to do most of our preaching.”

“Come on in and meet the rest of our group,” Awful said. Grabbing Burns by the arm, Awful led them inside the room, which was already packed with people celebrating what Christmas truly meant to them. Gail and Dr. Burns met the other volunteers—including Barney’s brother, Andrew—then they participated in over two hours of celebration. Hymns were sung, testimonies were given, shouts of praise were heard, and then a meal was shared at which each missionary was asked to stand and give his or her testimony.

Finally, Dr. Burns and Gail left and took a cab back to the hospital. It was late when they arrived, and they both shivered from the biting cold in the air, hinting of snow lying somewhere over the skyline. “It’s so quiet,” Gail whispered when they stopped outside the hospital entrance. The streets were deserted, and she stood there looking up at the moon, which was casting its silver beams down over the city. Suddenly she said, “I wish I were going to Africa or somewhere like that.”

Burns looked at her in astonishment. “That’s an odd thing to say. You might get eaten by a lion.”

“Oh, don’t be silly! I never heard of a missionary being eaten by a lion.”

“Well, there’s snakes and lots of bugs. You’d better stay right here. There are a lot of sick folks to take care of.”

They stood there talking softly, then she turned to him as a few cabs passed by carrying their passengers and said, “I’m so excited! It’s been the most exciting day in my whole life.”

The young doctor was suddenly aware of how lovely she really was. The moonlight softly silhouetted her face, making her eyes look like dark pools. She was a tall girl—practically as tall as he. Suddenly, he had an impulse and said huskily, “Merry Christmas!” He leaned forward, gently took her by the shoulders, and pulled her toward him. His lips touched hers and he felt a shock run through him at the softness of them. He held her for a brief moment, savoring the touch of her youthful body as he held her, and for that time, he seemed to know little else except the feel of this young woman.

Gail had been pursued ever since her adolescent days. She had often had to fight off men and boys, and had even been kissed once or twice. But it had never felt like this! This was different—gentle and from an honest man she didn’t fear. Those other times had been rough. Suddenly, she kissed him back for a moment, enjoying the touch of his caress. Then she stepped back and said quietly, “I don’t usually let a thing like this happen.”

“I meant nothing wrong by it,” Burns said quickly. “I’m sorry. It’s just that—you’re such a fine girl and I admire you so much.”

She reached out and touched his cheek. “I know. I’m glad you feel that way,” she said. “And I’ve admired you since the first time I saw you. Remember the first time I came in all ragged?”

“Yes, but you don’t look much like that young girl now, Gail Summers! I know God’s going to do great things with you.”

She turned, saying, “Good-night . . . David Burns.”

The doctor felt something strangely stir inside him as he smiled and watched her climb the stairs to the entrance of Baxter Hospital and slip through the front doors.

Gail went at once to her room. She undressed quickly and slipped into bed. Deborah was gone and the room was quiet. She looked out the window at the moon and trailing clouds and for a long time lay there and thought about David’s kiss.
He’s so sweet,
she thought,
such a fine man.
Then
she thought about Jeb and her thoughts grew darker. “Oh, God,” she whispered, “you’ve just got to help him—you’ve just got to . . . !”

CHAPTER FOUR

Lewis Falls in Love

“Well, there it is! What do you think, Lewis?”

“Think? Why, I think it’s one of the prettiest places I’ve seen, Uncle Mark. Did you build it yourself?”

Mark Winslow flashed a quick grin at his nephew. “No, of course not!” He looked over the large red-brick house with white columns rising in front and shrugged. “I’ve been too busy running a railroad to do anything like that. Lola liked it, so we decided to move out of the city. I couldn’t stand living in that hubbub. Never go into the city anymore except for business reasons—” He paused suddenly and nodded. “Look—there’s Esther!” He shook his head almost angrily. “Riding that fool bicycle again! She’s going to break her neck one of these days.”

BOOK: The Rough Rider
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