The rugged doctors redem.., p.2
The Rugged Doctor's Redemption, page 2
“Oh, nonsense!” Flora exclaimed, waving her off. “You must go.” Lena tried to argue, but Flora gripped her by the shoulders.
“You must, and you will. I will not have it any other way.” She let go of her shoulders and pulled Lena into an embrace. “This is your dream because God Himself has put it on your heart. It’s His calling. And you will answer the call. I won’t have it any other way.”
Lena pulled away, her eyes downcast. Guilt churned in her belly.
Flora hooked her fingertips beneath Lena’s chin and angled her head toward her. Their gazes collided. “What is it I always say? ‘The Lord has set a path before each one of us, and there comes a time when he lights a way and calls you to embark on that path—to walk by faith, not by sight and trust in Him.’” Flora smiled softly.
Lena offered a hesitant smile in return. “Yes. ‘For we walk by faith, not by sight of the Lord,’” she recounted. The verse was one her grandmother had instilled in her from a young age.
Flora nodded. “One must not turn away from the Lord’s calling when he urges us to walk forward. You must follow your dream.”
Lena sighed in defeat. Her spirits lightened as she peered into her grandmother’s eyes. Her grey eyes shone like silver dollars, they were so alight with pride and love. How could Lena not go, and risk disappointing her grandma?
“Then it’s settled. I will attend the university,” Lena said proudly.
Flora nodded, tears of joy brimming from her eyes. She pulled Lena in for another embrace.
“It’s like you said, Grandma,” Lena told her. “Psalm 121:1-2. ‘The Lord has helped me succeed. After all these years, he has heard my prayer.’”
A contented sigh breezed from Flora’s lips. “Indeed child, He has,” she agreed.
That night, when Lena retired for bed, she kneeled at her bedside and clasped her hands, gazing up at the heavens from her bedroom window.
“Lord,” Lena began. “I want to thank you for the opportunity to go to law school you have presented me with. I will walk by faith, and put my trust in you to guide me along the path that you wish for me.”
Chapter One
Three years later
Lena stepped out of the classroom once the lecture at Central Hall was dismissed. She entered the outer hall, textbooks in hand, with the other students. The male and female students immediately broke off to group together with their closest friends and discussed the lecture and their notes as they returned to their dorms.
“Did you understand that lecture, Lena?”
Lena glanced over her shoulder to find, Abigail, the best friend she had made while away at college, stepping up beside her. Abigail’s dark brown hair was swept up in a tight bun. The violet morning dress she wore complemented her fair complexion, though her facial features were pinched as tightly as her hair.
“I did,” Lena replied, heading toward the main stairwell. She raised a brow. “Did you not understand, Abby?”
“I was all scattered,” Abigail cried. She slapped a palm to her brow. “Lord, I am so addle-headed, I fear I will never graduate.”
Lifting her buttery-yellow skirt, Lena ascended the stairs with Abigail alongside her. The rest of the class followed close behind, their shoes clacking against the wooden steps, which resounded off the pale walls. Once reaching the second floor, the female students split off to their dorm rooms, as the men’s dorms were separated on the third floor.
Offering her friend a reassuring smile, Lena said, “Try not to worry, Abby. I can share my notes with you and help explain the lecture. We’ll go over it together.”
Abigail beamed, her slumped shoulders lifting. “Oh, thank you so much, Lena!”
Lena grinned and linked her arm through Abigail’s. “Women in law school have to look out for each other, right?”
Lena and Abigail passed the long study rooms that were placed between the bedrooms. The girl’s dorm held four sections on the second floor. Each section was divided by eight-foot wooden partitions that housed four smaller rooms comprising the girls’ bedrooms. These rooms were somewhat recent to accommodate the growing number of women attending law school—although the number was still relatively small.
Opening the door, the two slipped inside Lena’s dorm room. Lena’s gaze flew to the lone window on the opposite side. Upon first entering the university and being assigned this space, she soon learned that she was fortunate, as the other bedroom Abigail was assigned was without a window, and the draft from Lena’s the only source of air that Abigail and the other female students acquired.
The late afternoon sunlight slanted through the window basking the room in a soft honeyed glow. Abigail lowered herself to sit on Lena’s bed. On the wall behind Abigail spanned several banners representing the university’s logo, and portraits of Lena’s Ma, Pa, and Grandma Flora that Lena herself had hung on each wall to remind her of home.
Lena’s cheeks creased into a grin at one picture stamping a memory in time of when the family had attended a barn-raising celebration. In the picture, Lena’s grandmother was spritely enough to carry a four-year-old Lena on top of her back—the two smiling at each other broadly in the photo.
“Okay,” Abigail said, opening her textbook. “I am ready to be enlightened.” The serious look in her blue eyes was offset by the smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
Lena laughed. “I find it hard to take you seriously when you have such a devious smile on your face.”
Abigail stuck out her tongue.
“A lady does not stick her tongue out in such a manner, Miss Davis,” a soft, yet stern voice announced from the doorway. “It is quite unbecoming.”
Abigail’s gaze snagged on the figure behind the voice, and her face paled. She gasped and shot to her feet. Lena turned and faced the woman who had entered the room. The matron of Central Hall stood primly, her long navy dress ironed and cascading to the floor. Not a hair was found out of place in her neat bun that was coiffed beneath her bonnet. Lena wondered how her attire always managed to be neat and orderly when the wife of the steward was always out and about, overseeing the students, tending to those that fell ill, and seeing to the wash.
“Sorry, Matron,” Abigail squeaked, ducking her head.
The matron dipped her chin slightly in acknowledgment. She fastened her emerald gaze on Lena. “The mail has been delivered to Central Hall. One was found addressed to you, Miss Moore.” She withdrew an envelope from her skirt’s pocket and extended it toward Lena.
“Thank you, Matron,” Lena said, accepting the letter.
The Matron nodded, and with one last, disapproving glance at Abigail, departed down the hall.
The breath whooshed from Abigail’s lungs as she collapsed into the chair at the small round table in the center of the room. “That woman is frightening enough to send a herd of cows running,” she groused with a shake of her head.
But Lena was no longer paying attention to Abigail. Her eyes were riveted to the letter she held. The handwriting was not in any scrawl she’d recognized, but the envelope was addressed to her. Lena thought it was quite peculiar as she tore open the envelope. A chill snaked down her spine as she read the contents once, and then she had to read them again to make sure to fully absorb the news in the letter.
“What is it, Lena?” Abigail asked, sensing Lena’s unease.
Lena swallowed thickly. “It seems that my grandmother has fallen ill.” She fastened her eyes round with panic on Abigail. “The neighbor, Mrs. Smith, has written to me asking that I come home. She says that it is urgent.”
“Oh, no,” Abigail breathed, her hand flying to her lips. “I am so sorry, Lena. What sickness does she have?”
“Mrs. Smith doesn’t say,” Lena cried. Hands trembling, she lifted the letter and read it aloud to Abigail. “Your grandmother is ill, yet the condition is of such a delicate matter that I am afraid I can’t divulge it through a letter, for fear Flora shall become angry if she found out that I told you in a letter. You must come down and see your grandmother yourself. In her state, I fear she will only pose more harm to herself.”
What illness could possibly be so dreadful that Mrs. Smith cannot even pen it on paper? A slew of possibilities raced through Lena’s mind. Could she have cholera? Or worse, what if she’d contracted yellow fever?
Lena’s lungs seized at that last thought.
The yellow fever outbreak was currently spreading in the eastern states. Thankfully, no known cases had occurred close to the university or the city, but what if an outbreak had occurred in Fort Scott?
If this were the case, and if her grandmother had acquired this dreadful virus, then it might not be long before she succumbed. She knew that the illness progressed more rapidly for people of her grandmother’s age, and a journey back home on train would take several days.
“I must go at once,” Lena told her. “I might not have much time.”
Abigail gave Lena a hug. “Write to me as soon as you know something. I will be praying for you.”
Lena thanked her dear friend and promised to write, then gathered her skirt and raced to the dean’s office. She needed to request a leave from the university. One could not leave the school, nor school grounds, without receiving permission from the dean, and Lena prayed that the gentleman would be accommodating. Much to Lena’s relief, after explaining the situation involving her grandmother’s precarious condition, the dean was more than understanding and wished Lena safe travels and her grandmother’s return to good health.
“There will be a place for you here when you are ready to return, Miss Moore. You are a bright young woman with a promising future ahead of you.”
Lena thanked the dean. While she appreciated his words, right now she could not deign to think of her future. All she could think about was making it home to her dear grandmother.
***
Lena set out on foot from the university and purchased a train ticket at the depot for the next day, as all the tickets were sold out for that day’s journey. Lena grasped the ticket in tight fingers, her body trembling as worry and all of her unanswered questions seized her.
How ill was her grandmother? Would she make it in time to tend to her? It was a long journey by train. What if her grandmother had already taken a turn for the worse by the time she arrived?
Lena shook her head, banishing such dismal thoughts. She could not afford to let her mind wander down that path. Her grandmother would make it, she just had to reach her in time to tend to her.
“Please, God, keep her well until I arrive.” Lena repeated that prayer until she dozed off in the train depot.
The following morning, Lena was seated in a train car that was bound for Fort Scott. The changing foliage and alternating landscapes outside the train window passed by in a blur, as the city gave way to forestry and plains of emerald grass with swathes of wildflowers in every shade of the rainbow. Tall pines and sturdy oak trees outfitted the train’s path, their leafy canopy stretching upward to prick the cerulean sky—downy clouds dotting the vast expanse of the heavens.
Lena thought of the university she was leaving behind, as well as her dreams of becoming a lawyer. Lena could not help the tight knot that formed in her throat at the thought of abandoning her dreams to tend to her grandmother. Although the dean had said that she would be able to return, she knew that was not truly a guarantee. They would not hold a woman’s spot for long if there were men waiting for admission.
If the Lord blessed me with the opportunity to attend the University, then why would he take it away? What is the grander purpose—if there even is one?
Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Lena looked out the window to the heavens above, surrendering her ambitions to God.
Lord, you have always guided my path and lit the way. Please help me walk by faith and put my trust in you to guide my way in life—whatever that may be. In Jesus Christ’s name, Amen.
Lena barely slept a wink and hardly ate during her journey. Her stomach was too knotted with anxiety to accept any morsel. Anytime she would drift into a light, fitful sleep, nightmares of her grandmother suddenly passing, alone with no family by her side, caused her to jerk awake.
By the time the train pulled into the depot in Fort Scott, Kansas, Lena’s backside was sore from the bench seats that were hardly cushioned. Deep shadows clung to the skin beneath her dull brown eyes, and wisps of locks fell in tangles from her upswept hairstyle, which was also the result of her time spent in a train. But she did not have time to worry about her appearance. She hurried on foot down the dusty Main Street out of town and to the outskirts where her grandmother’s ranch waited.
With passing glances at the neighbors’ properties, Lena was pleased to see that not much had changed in her hometown in the three years since she’d been gone. Flocks of sheep and herds of grazing cattle still speckled the landscape in every direction. Gardens of tomatoes, potatoes, and squash, and many other crops grew within the gardens. As Lena approached her old homestead, the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck lifted, and a gasp escaped her lips at the sight in front of her.
The fencing that bordered her grandmother’s ranch was leaning heavily to one side, and some planks had fallen entirely. Weeds choked the garden that her grandmother had once tended to so diligently, the prickly foliage having spread to maul the fence line adjacent to it.
Lena stepped into the yard, her large eyes widened as she took in the lack of care that had fallen over the property. The grounds looked as if they had not been maintained in months. The house itself had become dilapidated, with parts of the wood siding having bowed or fallen off. Cobwebs threaded around the posts supporting the porch, the webbing so thick it nearly blotted out the twin windows at the front of the house.
Seeing the state of the property created a physical manifestation in Lena’s mind of the reality of her grandmother’s illness. But why had she never informed Lena that she was not well? Why did she not write about the conditions of the ranch, all this time that they had corresponded through letter? Every time Lena received a letter, her grandmother stated that everything was fine, the same as it had always been—business as usual.
But things were far from fine.
Flora sat on the porch in her rocking chair, but she had not yet noticed Lena’s presence, who was still standing some distance away from the house. Lena could not hold back any longer, and she raced to be by her side.
As Lena climbed up the porch steps, a cry tore from her throat as her foot fell through a rickety plank. She yanked her foot out of the weathered stairs and winced in pain, as the jagged edges had scraped against her soft skin. Flora gasped, springing to her feet.
“Who is that? What are you doing on my property?” Flora asked, her voice authoritative but also noticeably frightened. She took a step back toward the front door.
Lena could do nothing but gape at her grandmother for a moment. Surely, Flora could recognize her own granddaughter? Or had her illness caused her to suffer from some form of amnesia or delirium?
“Grandma, it is me. Lena!” she cried. Carefully stepping onto the porch, mindful that there could be more spots of rotten wood to sink through, Lena neared her grandmother.
Flora’s tightly wound body unfurled as relief washed over her. She sighed, placing a hand on her heart. “Lena, dear, you did not write that you were coming, or I would have been expecting you. What are you doing out here?” She blinked. “Did something happen in St. Louis?”
“Your neighbor, Mrs. Smith wrote to me that you had fallen ill,” Lena said, her voice pitched in anxiety. “I came to be with you right away.”
Flora’s lips immediately thinned at this revelation, and Lena noticed tendons in her neck distended as she swallowed. Lena’s eyes traveled the length of her grandmother. She did not detect any ailments that lay siege to her body. Her skin had not jaundiced, meaning that she likely was not suffering from yellow fever as she feared. In fact, aside from the additional silver hairs that were overtaking more of her maple brown than when Lena had left, there appeared to be nothing amiss.
Lena’s breaths quickened as confusion mounted. “Grandma, what is going on?”
Flora licked her lips, her gaze shifting to the side. She remained silent as if she were lost in her thoughts. Lena stepped forward. She placed a hand on her grandma’s delicate shoulder.
“Grandma?” Lena pressed. “Please, you can tell me.”
A weary sigh blew from Flora’s lungs. Her shoulders slumped, her bright eyes dull with resignation.
“It seems that I am losing my eyesight,” Flora said simply, as if she were merely observing the changes in the weather. “I am going blind.”
Lena’s breath lodged in her throat. The world rocked had just rocked on its axis. “What? Grandma, are you sure?”
Flora shrugged a shoulder in an attempt to appear nonchalant, although the wet sheen that glazed her eyes signaled her turbulent emotions. “I started having difficulty seeing everything clearly. Everything started to look cloudy or blurred, like I was looking through a puddle of water. Eventually, I will lose my vision entirely.”
