Child of Promise (11 page)

Beth found all of the ongoing seasonal happenings reassuring and familiar. It was nice to trust in something, in the midst of so many things in life that couldn’t be trusted. Like Millie’s health, which had steadily gone downhill in the past few weeks. Her breathing had gotten so bad she could barely climb the stairs to her room. Beth had insisted Millie take her bed, while she slept in an army cot to be near Millie whenever her breathing spells got bad at night.

They hadn’t hired Luanne any too soon, and the girl turned out to be a blessing. Not only was she a good cook and housekeeper, but Luanne adored Emily. Millie seemed to find her greatest relief from her breathing difficulties whenever Luanne and Emily went to her bedroom to entertain her.

It was the best that could be done, Beth supposed one sun-drenched mid-January day as she finished her last chart and filed it away. Not good enough for any of them watching Millie’s slow decline with its inevitable outcome, but there was a certain peace about it nonetheless. A peace beginning with Millie and spreading outward to touch them all.

“The hardest part isn’t in the dying,” Beth recalled Millie telling her a week ago. “I love the Lord so, my heart leaps with joy thinking I’ll soon be with Him. Oh, to lay my head on His breast, to feel the strength of His love enfold me as I’ve never known it in this life! What pains me, though, is the thought of leaving you and Noah and Emily behind. Of the anguish it’ll cause you.” Millie smiled sadly. “It’s always the hardest on those left behind in this vale of tears. The loss of a loved one creates such a gaping wound in a heart, a wound that, at best, can only heal a bit at its edges.”

“Yes,” Beth agreed softly, “some wounds don’t ever heal, do they?”

“No, they don’t.” From her place on the bed, Millie’s hand settled on Beth’s shoulder. “With time, though, and the Lord’s guidance and love, we can turn that loss, that pain, to good.”

Beth couldn’t choke back an outraged protest. “What possible good could ever come from losing someone you love? God doesn’t need that person.
We
are the ones who need our loved ones. Yet God gives them to us, then, just when they’ve insinuated themselves into our hearts, He takes them back.” She shook her head with a savage vehemence. “It’s not fair. It’s just not fair!”

“No, it might not seem fair, but many are God’s reasons, and we must trust in Him. He is always with us, in the pain as well as in the happiness. Indeed, in many ways, He seems nearest in our sorrow.”

Beth frowned. “That doesn’t make Him seem like a God who wishes us to be happy.”

“On the contrary, honey. The Lord would wish us always to be happy in Him. He just knows we tend not to think of Him very much when things are going well. It’s almost as if in our joy, we feel it’s our just deserts. But in our sorrow—a sorrow, of course, never of our
own
doing,” she added with a grin, “we finally turn to Him and bitterly complain at the unfairness of it all.” Millie shook her head. “It’s all turned upside down. All that’s good comes from God. All that’s bad, the sorrow and the pain, is but a natural part of life—or rises from our own sin and failings.”

Beth smiled ruefully. “True enough, I suppose. It’s our human nature to take credit where we wish and discard the rest.”

“Yet God is everywhere, in the sorrow and the joy. He is all we can ever depend on, and we must strive always to seek Him and cling to Him. The rest”—Millie shrugged—“well, the rest—family, friends, our meager accomplishments—are but way stations on the road home. They are never, however, home. At their best, they help gladden our hearts and strengthen us on the journey.”

“That’s why I don’t want to lose you! You gladden my heart and strengthen me on my journey. As you do for Noah and Emily, who need you even more desperately than I.”

The older woman smiled. “They needed me for a time, but I think the Lord has finally provided them with a new friend. A friend who can fill those empty spaces in their hearts even better than I.”

Beth frowned. “I don’t understand. Who could ever do more for them than you, Millie?”

“You, of course.” Millie laughed. “Already you’re all but a mother to Emily. And Noah . . . well, I’m a woman. I can see what’s growing between you and him. You’re the one, honey, who’ll finally heal the wound of Alice’s loss.”

Warmth flooded Beth’s face. “I . . . I think you’re mistaken. There’s nothing between us. And I give you my word we’ve never acted unseemly with each other.”

“I know that. I trust Noah, and I trust you. But I also know what I’ve seen.” Millie cocked her head. “Are you trying to tell me now that you don’t care for my nephew? Is that it?”

Beth released an exasperated breath and looked away. “Yes. I mean no! Who wouldn’t care for Noah? He’s so kind and good, and . . . and . . .”

“Then what’s the problem? You like him and he likes you. What could be more natural?”

“It doesn’t matter how I feel about him.” Beth turned back to face Millie. “He’s far too good for a woman like me!”

“And why’s that?”

“Because . . . because I’m tainted. I’ve sinned. Sinned grievously. And someday Noah will find out.” She shook her head fiercely. “When that day comes, I don’t want him to feel as if I tricked him, that I was leading him on to think I was better than I really was.” And, even more importantly, Beth added silently, I don’t know what I’d do if, when he learns the truth, he rejects me.

“Do you love him, honey?”

Hot, traitorous tears sprang to Beth’s eyes. “No,” she said, clamping her mouth shut. “No!”

Millie chuckled. “I don’t believe you. You’ve always loved him.”

Beth gasped. “If you’re talking about that schoolgirl crush I once had for him, that’s been over a long while now,” she muttered, growing irritated at being boxed in at every turn. “Besides, what does it matter anyway? Noah doesn’t love me.”

“On the contrary. He just doesn’t realize the true depth of his feelings for you. But you’re kindred souls, honey. You belong together. Remember that when I’m gone. Don’t let your fears keep you from the man of your heart.”

Remember .
 
.
 
.

Beth shook her head, shoved her desk drawer closed, and stood. Since that day she and Millie had talked, little else had been on Beth’s mind. Was it really possible? Did Noah have deep feelings for her?

Though he might care for her as a friend, Noah had never once given her a reason to suspect his feelings went any deeper. Millie’s imagination, fired by her need to put her affairs in order, was just working overtime. And finding a mother for Emily and a wife for Noah was one of her most pressing concerns.

Besides, the reason why she could never become Noah’s wife hadn’t changed. She was an impure woman. She wasn’t worthy, and nothing could ever change that.

11

Do all that is in thine heart; for the Lord is with thee.

2 Samuel 7:3

At half past ten on a bitterly cold, late January night, the kitchen telephone rang. Beth, who had just settled onto her cot, leaped up and hurried from the bedroom. “Hello?” she said, trying not to talk so loud as to disturb Millie. “This is Dr. MacKay. What can I do for you?”

“It’s John,” Doc Childress’s gruff voice rumbled through the lines. “I need you over at the clinic. Can you come?”

“Of course.” Beth’s heart increased its rate, as it always did when an emergency occurred. “I’ll be there in five minutes.” She hung up, hurried back into her room, and began to dress.

Millie turned over in bed, facing her. “Who was that?”

“Doc.” Beth pulled on her skirt and fastened it. “He needs me at the clinic.”

“Would you like me to come, too?” Millie weakly shoved up in bed. “In case you require an extra set of hands?”

It is so like her, Beth thought, to think of everyone else even as she can barely get around anymore. “No.” She shook her head. “We should be fine. And if it gets bad, I’ll call you and you can send Noah over. Okay?”

Panting for breath, Millie laid back. “O-okay. Guess I’m better off anyways . . . just staying put.” She managed a tremulous smile. “You’re such . . . a blessing to us all, you know.”

Beth slipped her stocking feet into her boots. “As you are to us.” She walked over, took the older woman’s hand for a quick squeeze, then released it. “Are you all right? I can fetch Noah if you feel you might need someone while I’m gone.”

“No. Let the dear . . . boy sleep. I’m fine.”

“I’d better be on my way then.”

“Bundle up . . . nice and warm, honey. The wind sounds like it’s . . . blowing pretty fierce . . . out there.”

“I will,” Beth called over her shoulder as she headed into the kitchen. “I will.”

Two minutes later, impelled by a strong tailwind and the frigid weather, Beth raced into the clinic. Doc’s office door was open. Inside, she could hear the voices of a man and woman, the woman hysterical, the man angry. She quickly removed her jacket, mittens, and wool scarf, and hurried into the office.

“Ah, Dr. MacKay,” Doc said, rising from behind his desk as soon as he saw her. “Just in time to assist me with the examinations.”

She scanned Doc’s patients. They were Harlow and Mary Sue Peterson. Harlow boasted a rapidly purpling bruise on his left cheekbone. Mary Sue clasped her right arm closely to her.

Beth looked to Doc. “What happened?”

“Seems Harlow and Mary Sue had a minor disagreement,” Doc said. “Unfortunately, it was at the top of their staircase. They lost their balance and both fell down the stairs.”

The observation, that Mary Sue had a most disconcerting habit of falling down the stairs, was on the tip of Beth’s tongue, but she chose not to share it. The true cause of the injuries would come out soon enough with an examination.

“I assume you’d like me to examine and treat Mary Sue, while you see to Harlow?” she asked, plastering on her most stone-faced, professional demeanor.

Doc nodded. “Yes, I think that’d work best.” He glanced from Mary Sue to Harlow. “If that’s acceptable to the both of you, of course.”

The big banker looked at his wife. She refused to look back. “Yes, I suppose so,” he said finally.

Beth touched Mary Sue on the shoulder. “Can you stand, or do you need help?”

“I . . . I can stand.” Mary Sue climbed to her feet and without a backward glance stalked from the room.

Once inside her office, with the door closed firmly behind them, Beth indicated the examination table. She pulled over a stool for Mary Sue to step up on, waited as she settled herself, then glanced at her arm.

“You’re holding that as if you think you broke it. May I have a look?”

“Suit yourself.” Mary Sue’s lips trembled. “If it isn’t broken, though, then I miss my guess.”

As gently as she could, Beth examined her lower arm. The radius, midway up from the thumb, was indeed fractured. She gently lowered Mary Sue’s arm back into her lap.

“You’re right. One of the bones in your lower arm is broken. We need to get your arm out of that sleeve so I can fix it.”

After helping Mary Sue do that, Beth walked to the supply cabinet and took out gauze and several rolls of gauze-impregnated plaster of paris. She placed them on a small table and rolled it over next to Mary Sue, then filled a bucket with water.

Beth expertly set the broken bone and wrapped the arm with the gauze. She soon had the plaster of paris rolls soaked enough to begin applying them. When the cast was on, Beth put Mary Sue’s arm in a sling and helped her from the examination table to the chair placed before her desk. She then took her own seat behind the desk and scribbled out a prescription.

“This’ll help the pain.” Beth handed Mary Sue the script.“You’ll have to wait until morning, though, to get it filled. If you think you need it, I can give you a few pain pills to tide you over until then.”

“I’ll be fine.” Mary Sue took the prescription.

“You’ll need to prop the casted arm on a pillow and keep it elevated for the next day or so to minimize the swelling. And if your fingers should become cold or numb, you must return immediately to the clinic. The resultant swelling from the injury can sometimes cut off the circulation, especially when it comes up against a stiff cast.”

“Fine. I’ll be sure to do that.”

Beth frowned. It was evident Mary Sue wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible. There were some questions that needed answering, however, before Beth would let her leave.

“This isn’t the first time this has happened, is it?” She leveled a piercing stare at the injured woman. When no answer was forthcoming, Beth leaned closer. “Is it, Mary Sue?”

“No, it isn’t.” Mary Sue wouldn’t look at her.

“Did you and Harlow both fall down the stairs together, or was it only you?”

“I slapped Harlow . . . well, maybe I hit him,” Mary Sue said. “Hard enough anyways to leave that bruise. That’s when he finally lost his temper. He hit me back. I lost my balance and fell down the stairs.”

“So it was an accident? He didn’t push you?”

Mary Sue met her gaze. “And why would you think Harlow would purposely hurt me? I’ve never implied such a thing. Never!”

Though the woman tried to mask her panic, Beth couldn’t help but catch a note of it in her voice. “No, you’ve never implied anything of the sort,” Beth said, trying to speak soothingly. “However, I’m trained to look below the surface of things. Not long after I arrived here, you came in with injuries sustained after a fall down the stairs. And the first time I met Harlow, I noted how he treated you. Disdainfully, almost cruelly. I saw him squeezing your hand so hard at the Fall Social it brought tears to your eyes. And then there’s the edge of hysteria I hear in your voice and see in your eyes sometimes when you think someone’s getting too close to the truth.”

Mary Sue laughed unsteadily. “And what might that truth be?”

“The truth that Harlow beats you.”

The blood drained from Mary Sue’s face. She half rose from her chair, hesitated, then sank back into it. Cradling her casted arm against her, she dragged her gaze up to Beth’s.

“He’ll deny it. Then when he gets me back home, he’ll beat me again.” Mary Sue bit her lip and looked away. “And there’s no one who can stop him or would want to.”

“I want to.” Beth’s hands clenched on her desk. “No one has the right, just because they’re married, to treat another cruelly.”

Mary Sue shook her head. “And what could you do? No one would believe you any more than they’d believe me. Har-low has a reputation to uphold in this town. He’s seen as a good, God-fearing man who attends church regularly.”

“I could talk to Noah for you. Maybe he could—”

“No!” Mary Sue’s eyes filled with tears. “It’s too shameful. I couldn’t bear for anyone else to know.”

“Noah would be discreet. You can trust him. And it’d just be you and Harlow coming to see him in the privacy of the rectory.”

“Y-you don’t understand. It’s my fault. If o-only I was a better wife . . .” Mary Sue began to sob.

Beth stood and came around her desk to take Mary Sue into her arms. She didn’t know what else to do. What Mary Sue had said was perhaps true. Even if people knew what Harlow did to Mary Sue, most wouldn’t interfere.

But she wasn’t most people. She was Mary Sue’s doctor and sworn to heal. Moreover, she was sworn first to do no harm, and allowing these beatings to continue was prolonging the harm.

Still, what could she do if Mary Sue demanded she not tell anyone? What was of more importance—the responsibility to keep her patients’ secrets, or defending them, even if in the doing she must break confidentiality?

Beth released Mary Sue and stood. “Wait here. I need to confer with Doc about a few things. I’ll be back.”

“Y-you won’t tell him, w-will you?” Through her tears, Mary Sue looked pleadingly up at Beth.

“I’m pretty sure Doc’s already figured out what happened,” said Beth. “Harlow shouldn’t have brought you here tonight if he hoped to hide the truth from us.”

“He got afraid once he realized he’d probably broken my arm.” She smiled wanly. “He’s not a cruel man, Harlow isn’t. He just gets so frustrated sometimes, and it doesn’t take much to set him off.”

“Well”—Beth laid a hand on her shoulder—“let’s just see where this leads, shall we? Will you permit me that much anyway?”

“Okay.”

Mary Sue’s acquiescence was barely audible, but it was all Beth needed. She swept from the room, closed the door, and walked to Doc’s office. Her knock was soon answered.

“How’s Mary Sue?” Doc asked.

“Her right radius sustained a simple fracture. I set it, then casted it. She’s waiting in my office.” Beth glanced at Harlow, who was sitting before Doc’s desk, his head turned in their direction. “I need to confer with you. Privately.”

Doc looked back at the big banker. “I’ll just be a few minutes. Dr. MacKay has some questions.” He closed the door and motioned Beth to the waiting area.

“How extensive were Harlow’s injuries?” she asked, wasting no time getting to the heart of the matter.

“Just the bruised cheekbone. Nothing else.”

“Doesn’t look like he took a tumble down the stairs with Mary Sue?”

“It’d be highly unlikely.”

“Did he perhaps change his story of what happened?”

Doc shook his head. “Nope. How about Mary Sue?”

“I’m not at liberty to say, but you’re welcome to draw your own conclusions.”

He gave a snort of disgust. “Oh, I was beginning to draw my own conclusions a ways back.”

“Then what do we do?”

Doc inhaled a deep breath. “This sort of thing is tricky. I’m no lawyer, but from what I’ve heard, a woman doesn’t have a whole lot of rights in such matters. Best that Mary Sue could do is divorce him.”

“I’m not sure she’s ready to take such a step. And she doesn’t want Harlow to know she told me what really happened.”

“Well”—Doc scratched his jaw—“the only thing I can do then is confront Harlow with my suspicions, based on the extent of Mary Sue’s injuries and, in comparison, how minor his were. See if, for starters, I can get him to confess to some marital discord.”

“If you can do that, maybe we could get them to talk to Noah. Otherwise, I’m going to push Mary Sue to leave that monster.”

“Now, hold on.” As Beth turned away, Doc grabbed hold of her arm. “Let’s take this slow and easy. Harlow may have his troubles, but he’s not a monster. He needs help as much as Mary Sue.”

“Maybe so, but Harlow’s life isn’t in danger if Mary Sue continues to stay with him. Mary Sue, on the other hand . . .”

Doc sighed. “I know. Let’s bring Harlow into your office and discuss this. Let me do most of the talking, though. In your present state of mind, you’re as likely to blow up as Harlow is.”

“Fine,” Beth muttered, knowing Doc’s assessment was probably accurate. Right now she was so mad at Harlow Peterson she was tempted to give him a matching bruise on his other cheek.

When the banker was seated in Beth’s office, his chair on one side of the desk with Doc, while Mary Sue sat on the other side with Beth, he soon admitted to the fight. “It was an accident, though, that Mary Sue tripped and fell down the stairs,” he said. “I didn’t push her. I’m not that sort of a man.”

“Then you admit to having some marital problems?” Doc asked. “Problems that aren’t getting any better?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” Harlow cast a glance at his wife. “Would you, honey?”

Mary Sue wouldn’t look at him. “I-I’m worried, Harlow. I’m afraid of what might happen next time.”

“Well, you
did
get pretty riled up tonight. And you haven’t been yourself in a long while.”

Beth saw Mary Sue’s hands clench knuckle white. She bit back her own scathing reply and seized on the opening that Harlow, in his attempt to foist all the blame on Mary Sue, had given her.

“Perhaps it’s time for you and Mary Sue to seek some outside help.” She locked gazes with the big banker. “Perhaps it’s time you and Mary Sue have a talk with Father Starr. Being the God-fearing man that you are, I’m sure you hold the sanctity of your marriage vows in the highest esteem and would do whatever it took to protect and honor them.”

As if he were considering a possible trap, Harlow’s eyes narrowed. “I’d prefer first to try and work out our differences privately.”

Beth’s smile was thin and unyielding. “I think it’s past time for that, Mr. Peterson, when injuries occur. Don’t you agree?”

Fury blazed in Harlow’s eyes, but he nodded. “I suppose so, Dr. MacKay.” He turned to Mary Sue. “Well, shall we be going, my dear? I think we’ve imposed on the good doctors’ time long enough as it is.”

“Yes, it is getting late, isn’t it?” Doc Childress climbed to his feet. “Time enough tomorrow to make arrangements with Father Starr.”

Beth stood. Harlow Peterson wouldn’t like what she had next to say any more than he had before, but Mary Sue was her patient. She intended to do everything she could to protect her.