The Rough Rider (31 page)

“I’m going to tell Lewis!” Deborah said at once.

She left the room at a quick pace, and Dr. Burns looked after her thoughtfully. “She’s grown very fond of Lewis, hasn’t she?”

“Yes, she has. I suppose when you put as much of yourself into saving someone’s life as she did in saving his, it happens.”

“Well, he’s a fine young man, but I’m not too optimistic—from a medical point of view—about his recovery. That bullet wound was pretty serious. He may never walk again.” There was a sadness in his blue eyes as he allowed the thought to run across his mind. He was the sort of physician who felt too deeply for his patients. Then he shook his shoulders and said, “I suppose we’ll all be glad to get out of this place.”

“I thought we might be here much longer,” Gail nodded. “But I won’t be sorry to be back home.”

That was the feeling among everyone, it seemed. When Aaron heard the news, he went at once to the hospital to tell Lewis.

He found Lewis sitting up in bed, propped up against some pillows. He had a notepad on his lap, which he put down when Aaron came in.

“Well, we’ll be on our way pretty soon. I’ll be glad to get out of Cuba!”

“I was writing to the folks,” Lewis said. “But it looks like we might beat the letter home now.”

“Go on and write the letter,” Aaron said. “You never know how these things will go. We found out once already how it is with this army. Remember, we sat on a crowded ship with lousy food for a week before we left Tampa.”

Aaron sat down for a while and talked to Lewis about their imminent departure. He didn’t mention Lewis’s disability, for he could say nothing positive about it. Lewis had recovered from the fever, and his face had a healthy look about it, despite the weight he had lost. Even though Lewis
had survived, Aaron had been depressed over his brother’s condition. After a few minutes, he just sat there in silence, not knowing what to talk about. He was glad when Deborah came in with a tray of food, and he rose and said, “Well, I’ll be going. Take good care of this fellow, Deborah!”

“I’ll do that,” Deborah smiled. Aaron left and she said, “Are you ready to eat?”

“Sure!” Lewis said at once. He moved the note pad aside, and she placed the tray on his lap. Then sitting down beside him, she took out a lace handkerchief and began to dab her forehead. “It’s warm! But we’ll be leaving, so we can endure it for a little while longer, I suppose.”

Lewis picked at his food, eating slowly without much appetite. He talked less now than he had before he had been wounded. In the days since he was brought to the hospital, he had grown unusually quiet. It was not that he was saddened, but the paralysis in his legs seemed to have taken away part of the effervescent quality that had bubbled over before. He had lost some of his zest for life, and from some of the things he had said, Deborah sensed more of a soberness about him.

Lewis took a bite of bread, chewed on it thoughtfully, then swallowed it. “Not going to be long before we’re home,” he said, as though she had not spoken. “I’m glad this war is over and we’re leaving this place.” He hesitated, then said, “Things turned out a little bit different than what I had expected.”

Deborah knew he was referring to his injury and said quietly, “We’re trusting God to heal you, Lewis.”

A smile turned his lips up and he shook his head. “You never give up, do you?”

“Why, I don’t find in the Word that we’re supposed to give up. The Bible says to ‘run with patience the race that’s set before us.’ ”

“Why do you think these things happen?” asked Lewis.

“Wiser people than I haven’t been able to answer that.” Without thinking about it, Deborah picked up her handkerchief,

reached over, dabbed at a morsel of food on his face, then flushed slightly. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“My mother always did it,” Lewis said, smiling at her. “I always was a messy eater.” He studied her carefully, then continued to speak. “I guess we all wonder why bad things happen to good people. Job wondered about it, didn’t he?”

“Yes, he did. He spent a lot of time trying to convince God that He was mistaken. I used to not like that book much; seemed like it was one long argument. But I’ve been reading it more lately.”

“In the end, Job and his friends never did figure out why Job had so many troubles. That was because they could only see one side of the problem. They didn’t know that God had allowed the devil to try Job’s patience.”

“No, that’s true, we don’t know.” She saw a faint look of surprise cause Lewis to lift his eyebrows. “That’s part of the problem—we don’t know why these things happen—and most of the time I suppose we never will.”

“God never did tell Job why He allowed him to lose his family and be sick.”

“That’s right, and I remember the last part of the book where Job just gave up and said, ‘Whatever you say, God, whatever you do, it’s all because you’re God.’ ” Deborah leaned forward, her face intense. She had an inquisitive mind and now she said carefully, “I think that’s the only theology any of us can have. Once we decide that Jesus Christ is Lord of all this universe, and that He made all the earth and the planets, then we can leave everything in His control. He’s aware of it!”

Lewis suddenly said, “You know, I just thought of something! When I was young my mother had a little box, and every time something bad happened or a difficulty would come along, she’d write it down on a piece of paper and put it in that box. I asked her one time why she did that. I never will forget what she said.” A smile creased his lips and he ran his hand through his light brown hair. “She said when
the devil would come to her and remind her of the problem, she’d just say, ‘Why, devil, that’s in the Jesus box. You’ll have to go talk to Him about it. I gave it all to Him.’ ”

“I love that,” Deborah said. She smiled and her eyes crinkled. They always did when she smiled. The story pleased her, and she sat there thinking of it silently. She had a way of taking a statement, thinking on it, and then letting it sink into her spirit. Lewis knew somehow it would surface sooner or later.

They talked for half an hour, and then Lewis fell silent. “What are you thinking about?” Deborah asked.

“Oh, nothing, really.” He sat there, staring down at his lower body, then looked up at her, a shadow in his eyes. “I was thinking about Alice. She won’t be expecting me to come home like this.”

“She’ll be proud of you, just like all of us are,” Deborah said evenly. She left the room then with the tray, and there was a frown on her face. Somehow, she knew that Lewis was troubled at what Alice would think of him more than he would admit, but there was nothing she could say to him.

****

Two days later, the troops eagerly boarded the transports and left Cuba. Unlike most military matters, the affair had gone swiftly. Aaron had appeared with a wheelchair and had wheeled Lewis to the steamship
Miami.
He pushed him up the gangplank and found the captain—a bluff, hearty man with a weather-beaten face—waiting for them at the top. “Well,” he said, a smile half hidden under his moustache, “you’re early!”

Aaron said, “I wouldn’t want to miss this boat. My name’s Aaron Winslow—this is my brother, Lewis.”

The name meant something to the captain. He looked at Lewis and stuck out his hand. “Congratulations! I got a note from Colonel Roosevelt. He said to take very good care of you, that you were an honored guest on my ship.”

Lewis flushed and said, “Why, I can’t imagine why. I was just one of the troops.”

“Mr. Roosevelt doesn’t think so! From what I hear, the colonel was impressed by what he saw during the battle at San Juan Hill.”

Somehow, Roosevelt had found time from his duties to write a note to the captain of the
Miami.
He had even come by the hospital to visit the sick men, and had spent fifteen minutes talking to Lewis. Roosevelt had met Mark Winslow, and as soon as he found out that Mark was Lewis’s uncle, he said, “I’ll be seeing you when we get back to New York.”

Lewis smiled. “You’ll be too busy getting ready to be the new governor, Colonel.”

Roosevelt was taken aback at Lewis’s statement. “Why, I’m not even a candidate.”

Aaron, who knew more about politics than Lewis and had listened to some of the talk between the other correspondents, said, “I’m afraid you’re going to be a candidate this time, Colonel. And if I’m a resident long enough, you’ll have my vote.”

Roosevelt was pleased at the man’s vote of confidence, and had left the two men with a warm admiration for their commander.

Now the captain said, “Come along and I’ll fix you men up myself.”

The ship pulled out the next morning at dawn. Dr. Burns had been unable to move his supplies, but he had given them to the doctor who was staying. That first day they made good time, and on the second night out, Gail and Dr. Burns were taking a leisurely walk around the deck. The
Miami
was not as crowded as the one they had sailed in on, as it was a much larger vessel.

“Almost like a pleasure cruise after the voyage down here, isn’t it?” Dr. Burns said. The two paused and leaned against the rail. Dusk had fallen, and there was a hissing sound as the
Miami
cut through the waves.

“It’s much nicer,” Gail agreed. She was wearing a blue gingham dress, the only nice one she’d brought with her. She’d let her hair down, and it blew in the wind, making an attractive picture.

Dr. Burns seemed to have trouble speaking. He started once to say something, then broke off suddenly. Finally, with something almost like desperation in his manner, he turned to her. Reaching out, he took her arm and pulled her around to face him. “Gail,” he said, “there’s something I’ve got to say. It’s been on my heart a long time.”

Instantly, Gail knew what was in the young physician. She stood there as he held her arm, conscious of the strength of his grip. For some time, she had been aware that David Burns was interested in her as more than just a nurse. She had been so young when they had first met, but since then she had grown into an attractive woman. Now, she saw something in his gentle eyes that he had kept hidden, and she waited as he struggled to find the right words.

“I’m not a man who knows a great deal about women,” Burns said quietly. “But for a long time now, I have felt something for you. I didn’t want to say anything, for it didn’t seem right, but now I’ve got to speak.” He paused for a moment, then said, “I love you, Gail, and that’s all there is to it!” Without waiting for her reply, he reached out and pulled her to him. She did not resist, but took his kiss and rested her arms on his shoulders. He was gentle, and this was the quality that she prized most in this man—his gentleness and his strength.

These were the two things that Gail Summers had longed for in a man. She sensed the depth of his love for her in the pressure of his lips and the strength of his hands as he drew her forward. Surrendering to his arms, she was aware of a stirring inside her own heart. She had felt alone for most of her life, but now, enfolded in his arms, she felt something that she had longed for. She gave herself to him freely, enjoying the sense of belonging and protection she felt in his arms.

The kiss was interrupted by the sound of footsteps, and
they moved apart quickly, seeing that Aaron had appeared on the deck. He stopped abruptly, saying, “Oh—sorry!” He turned at once and quickly walked away, the sound of his footsteps echoing on the steel deck.

Gail was embarrassed, and her face showed it, and David no less so. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like this to speak my heart.”

“It’s all right, David. I guess we’re entitled to one mistake.”

“It was no mistake, at least not for me,” David said. “Do you think”—he asked deliberately, but with insistence in his fine eyes—”that you could ever learn to care for a man like me?”

“I already care for you, David, but—”

“But you’re not sure if it’s love?”

“That’s right.” Gail moved to the rail and stared at the sea restlessly. “I don’t know much about love—nothing really! I never had boyfriends like most girls do, so I just don’t know.” Turning back toward him, she lifted her eyes and smiled. “I do know one thing, though. You’re the finest man I’ve ever known. I admire and respect you more than I thought I could respect a man. If that’s love, then I have it.”

It was not the answer that Burns wanted to hear, but still hope grew in him. “Well, I’ll come courting properly after we get this war settled and all our patients are safely home.” A waggish thought came to him. He had a sprightly sense of humor beneath his rather staid exterior. “I think I’ll learn to play the guitar, then I can come and sing love songs under your window. Why, I even know one to start with.” He began to sing “The Girl I Left Behind Me” in a slightly off-key note.

Gail suddenly giggled and put her hand over his mouth. “Perhaps you’d better just bring flowers,” she said. “That’d be better than your singing.” Then she said more soberly, “I’m honored that you would think of me in such a way, and I’m also flattered.” She hesitated, then smiled up at him. “Thank you, David!” Then she turned and left the deck.

David stood there for a time, thoughts running through
his mind. He leaned on the rail and stared into the white water and finally said aloud, “She’s a bonny girl—a bonny girl indeed!”

****

The convoy plowed through the waters of the Atlantic, and on the eighth day of the voyage, the word spread around that the ships would dock the next day. Aaron went at once to tell Lewis. The two had spent long hours playing cards and checkers together, and now Aaron said, “We’ll be home tomorrow! I’ll be glad to get off this ship.”

Lewis looked up at him. “So will I.” There was an apprehension in him, and Aaron understood that he was thinking of the reception he would get. He had gone out a healthy young man, and he was coming home in a wheelchair, perhaps forever.

“I wish we hadn’t come on this trip,” Aaron burst out.

“Because of this?” Lewis asked, indicating his legs.

“Yes—because of that!” It was the most that Aaron had ever said, and there was an angry, resentful look in his face.