The Outsider (5 page)

Dr. Scott tightened his grip on her wrist as if he guessed her desire to escape. He kept his eyes on Sister Mercy as he said, “No.” His voice was mild but firm. “I like to make sure my patients’ wounds heal properly.”

“We don’t really need your ointments, Dr. Scott,” Sister Mercy said. “We make our own medicines that are surely as good as, if not superior to, your own.”

“Burns are serious injuries. Do you want to take responsibility for the young sister’s hand? If the scar forms too deeply, she might lose the practical use of her fingers.”

The two stared at each other while Gabrielle searched her mind for some word to say to take the tension from the room. But no words came. Whatever was happening between the doctor and Sister Mercy dealt with more than Gabrielle’s burned hand. She wanted to look at Sister Mercy and tell her she would abide by whatever decision she made, but at the same time, a disconcerting desire rose inside her that made her want to return the next day and let the doctor hold her hand in his strong grasp.

She glanced over at Nathan. He was smiling, enjoying Sister Mercy’s dilemma. Gabrielle looked down quickly and tried to cool the flush that reddened her cheeks. If only the doctor would loosen his hold on her wrist, then her heart might slow its wild beating.

Finally Sister Mercy said, “Very well. We will return in the morning.”

“Good,” the doctor said as he finished securing the bandage about Gabrielle’s hand. “Remember what I said about keeping your hand dry, young sister, and I’m sure it will be much better come morning.”

“Yes, sir,” she said softly, not looking up at him. When he turned loose of her wrist, she stepped back so quickly that she almost upset the bowl and pitcher on the table by the window.

After Gabrielle said a quick goodbye to Nathan, she followed Sister Mercy out of the cabin. They walked some way in silence. Finally Gabrielle pushed out the words. “If you don’t wish me to return to the doctor in the morning, I can tend my hand myself. The burn is slight, hardly reason to worry.”

Sister Mercy was thoughtful, but after a moment she said, “Nay. I said you would return and you shall.”

Gabrielle looked at Sister Mercy’s face and couldn’t keep from saying, “Surely you’re not afraid of the doctor, Sister Mercy.”

Sister Mercy stopped on the path and turned to look at Gabrielle fully. “Nay, my child, I have no fear of Dr. Scott. I only fear for you.”

“But why? He is abrupt in his speech at times, but he has shown me nothing but kindness.”

“He is of the world, Sister Gabrielle, and he has noted thy outward beauty. I fear he may try to lead you away from us.”

“Then ye have no reason to fear, for he could never do that.” Gabrielle smiled at the strangeness of the thought of leaving the Believers. Sister Mercy smiled back at her, letting a little of the sternness slip away from her face for a moment.

As they turned to walk on to the schoolroom, Gabrielle thought about the doctor. She had to admit she did have a great curiosity about him and the world he came from, but she had no thought of becoming part of his world. She was one with the Believers, and here she would stay. Her path was clear.

5

Brice stayed with Nathan for four days. Each day the boy improved and his will strengthened. On the fifth morning Nathan pulled himself to a sitting position on the side of the bed. The boy bit his lip to keep back the groans when the pain hit him. His face went ashen except for the red of the burn on his cheek. But he didn’t quit. He grabbed hold of the straight chair Brice sat in front of him and stood up.

“Give yourself a minute to let your head settle,” Brice told him.

“My head is spinning a mite,” Nathan said as he gripped the chair. “Too much time on my back, I’m thinking.”

“That and the pain. It’s no shame to admitting to feeling pain, boy. Go ahead and holler. It might help.”

“Can’t see how.” The boy bit his lip again and slowly pushed the chair in front of him as he took a step. Beads of sweat popped out on his forehead.

The boy kept moving. He made it all the way across the room and back to the bed without Brice having to help him. When the boy was sitting down on the bed again and some of the color had come back into his face, Brice told him, “I’ll be going along home this morning. You don’t need a roundthe-clock nursemaid anymore.”

“You’re leaving?” The boy wiped the sweat off his face with a corner of the bed cover.

Brice dipped a cloth in the basin beside the bed, wrung it out, and put it on the back of the boy’s neck. “Sure, Bates. You don’t think you’re the only fellow who needs doctoring in this country. Anyway, that walk you made just now was pretty good. It won’t be long until you’re up and going again.”

“I hope so, Dr. Scott.”

“You’ll need to keep pushing yourself. Keep moving your legs. You can’t let them stiffen up on you no matter how bad it hurts. If the pain gets to be more than you can bear, put a pinch of these powders in a glass of water.” Brice placed a tin of medicine on the table by the bed before he started packing up his things. “Elder Caleb will be here with some of the men to move you over to a different house where they’ll take care of you till you’re stronger.”

Nathan watched him a minute before he said, “You’re not leaving because you’ve given up on me, are you, Doc? I mean, you still think I’m going to be able to walk.”

“You’re walking now, Bates.”

“I mean without pushing that confounded chair in front of me and wanting to scream each step.”

Brice turned to look at the boy. He no longer had any doubt at all Nathan would get well if some sort of fever didn’t set in. “You’re already doing better than I thought you would, Bates. In a month you’ll probably be walking wherever you want to go, and in another month, who knows? You might even be running. But it could be you’ll want to scream for a long while after that.”

The boy looked down at his legs and made a face. “I can live with that. I wasn’t planning on leaving here till spring anyhow.”

“You’d best be thinking of staying longer than that. It might be a good while before you’re able to follow a plow to earn your living. At least here you’re sure of eating till your legs heal.”

The boy didn’t say anything, just stared at Brice.

Brice shook his head and finished his packing up. “I’ll be back every day or so to see about you until you get a little better at pushing that chair around. Then you’ll have to come to me. It’ll be good exercise for you.” When a look of relief broke across the boy’s face, Brice put his hand on Nathan’s shoulder and added, “Don’t worry, boy. I told you I’d see that you got well, and I will.”

“It’s just that when I ask Gabrielle to go with me . . .” Nathan stopped and hesitated before going on. “Well, I wouldn’t want to ask her if I was just half a man.”

Brice frowned at the mention of the young sister. The last two days the boy’s talk had been sprinkled with plans he’d made for the two of them. Yet Brice was almost sure the young sister wouldn’t go with the boy when he left the Shakers. Not that it was any of his concern. He’d see that the boy got well. The boy would have to sort out the rest of his problems himself. So he only said, “It takes more than legs to make a man, Bates.”

“I’ll have what it takes when the time comes. You’ll see. They’ll all see.” The boy clamped his mouth shut when Elder Caleb pushed open the cabin door.

“We’re here to move Brother Nathan,” the elder said. Two other men followed him inside with a stretcher.

“Good.” Brice looked over at the boy. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Bates.”

Elder Caleb stopped Brice just outside the door to hand him a small sack of coins. “I trust this will be adequate pay for your services, Dr. Scott. We are grateful for the devotion you’ve shown in caring for one of our brethren.”

Brice took the money reluctantly. The burning of their harvest barn was a hardship on the Shaker community, but to refuse the money might insult them. While Brice didn’t understand the Shakers’ religion, he had to respect their hardworking industriousness and their devout sincerity. They knew what they believed even if those beliefs seemed oddly contrary to the natural order of the world and God’s plan for man. After all, hadn’t the Lord himself made Eve as a helpmate for Adam in the Garden of Eden and told them to go forth and be fruitful? Still, Brice had to admire the Shakers’ sure grasp on what they believed to be the truth. He had never been able to feel that kind of certainty about any spiritual beliefs.

He’d spent his time in church, read the Bible, had plenty of people preach at him both in church and out, but he’d never been able to completely set aside his doubts and step forward in faith. His stepmother told him that was because his years with the redskins had turned him into a heathen unable to recognize the touch of the Lord.

Perhaps she was right. Brice sometimes felt God was near when he looked up at the stars on a clear night or walked through the woods in the springtime or brought a new baby into the world, but then when he’d try to grab hold of the feeling to make it real inside him, it would slip away and he’d wonder if there was a God at all. And even if there was, Brice doubted he’d ever done anything to encourage the Lord to look favorably down on him.

But these people had an assurance that couldn’t be shaken. Not by ridicule of outsiders or by persecution. Of course, not all their members were that rock solid. The boy would never be one of them, and probably others among them entertained some doubts. How could a man not have doubts?

Brice put the bag of coins in his pocket without opening it. “I thank you,” he said as another of the brethren led Brice’s horse to the cabin. Brice ran his hand down the horse’s neck before he mounted. “And I thank you for the fine care you’ve given my horse.”

Elder Caleb inclined his head in a wordless gesture of dismissal, and Brice turned his horse’s head toward the outskirts of the community.

He was almost past the last building when he spotted the young sister beside the road. He smiled and tipped his hat at her. She quickly looked away from him to the ground but not before he saw an answering smile jump to her lips.

He pulled up his horse and called to her. “How is your hand, young sister?”

For a minute he thought she was going to pretend not to hear. She took one step away, but then she surprised him by turning and stepping closer to him. He slid off his horse and walked over to her.

Again she looked ready to run as she glanced around her. There was no one in sight.

Brice said, “It won’t hurt for me to look at your hand to be sure it has healed properly. You know you should have come back and let me treat it again.”

Gabrielle held out her hand. “It was but a small burn, and Sister Mercy felt we had too much work to do to take time to come to the visitor’s cabin.”

Brice held her hand and gently bent her fingers and stretched her palm. “It seems to have healed well. Still, you should be careful with it for a while until the skin is no longer so tender.”

“Yea, Doctor, I have been careful.” Slowly she raised her eyes to meet his. “Ye are leaving?”

“I am. It’s time I saw to my other patients.”

“And Brother Nathan? Will he be all right now?”

So it was her need to find out how the boy was doing that had made her dare to speak to him. He told her what she wanted to hear. “I think so. It’ll take months, but he’s young and strong enough to make it through the hard times ahead of him.”

The young sister smiled, and it was as if a flower suddenly opened up in bloom before his eyes. He remembered the boy’s words.
She is beauty.

“Thank you, Dr. Scott. I know the Eternal Father sent you here on that night to help Brother Nathan.”

“Sister Gabrielle!” The old sister’s voice was sharp as she came up behind the young sister. “It is time for the morning class to begin. We must be punctual.”

The young sister’s smile disappeared, and she looked almost frightened as she turned away from Brice. “I beg your forgiveness, Sister Mercy. I fear I could not resist the opportunity to ask about Brother Nathan.”

The old sister’s face was impassive, but there was disapproval in her voice as she said, “Ye should have asked one of the elders or eldresses permission to seek out information about the condition of Brother Nathan.”

“Yea, Sister Mercy. Forgive me.” The young sister ducked her head.

“Very well, child. Go along to your class now. They are waiting for their lessons.” The old sister waited until the young sister walked away before she looked back at Brice.

Brice smiled. “Don’t be hard on the young sister. I stopped her to look at her hand to be sure it had healed as it should.”

The old sister acted as though he hadn’t spoken. She simply said, “Good day, Dr. Scott.” He could see those words gave her pleasure before she turned and walked away.

The young sister stopped to let the older woman catch up with her. Brice watched them go on up the path to the house. The young sister’s face became somber as she seemed to be bowing her head in shame while the old woman berated her. And again anger rose inside Brice as it had the day he’d bandaged the young sister’s hand.

He looked back at the buildings with their austere fronts. Everything in the Shaker community was built for service. Nothing was put there without a purpose, and there were no wasted frills. Nothing was built or done just because it was pleasing to the eye, and if the young Shaker sister had the misfortune of being pleasing to the eye without even trying, it appeared that was reason for shame.

Then as he continued to stare at the buildings, he thought perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps the Shakers had their own vision of beauty. While their structures had no ornamentation, there was beauty in their very simplicity. And perhaps he was reading the old sister wrong as well. Maybe she wasn’t wishing away the young sister’s beauty. She just wanted to step between him and the young sister because he was of the world and she was fearful her hold on the girl wouldn’t be strong enough if the girl was allowed to glimpse life outside the Shaker community.

He pushed the young sister out of his mind as he rode out of the village. It was no concern of his if she wanted to give her life to the Shakers. While he might not go along with their way of life, they had the right to live as they wished. What harm could there be in wanting to live in peace and harmony with one another as brothers and sisters? Not that he thought they’d be able to shut away the evils and injuries of the world simply by building their community behind stone fences. Peace didn’t come just because one wished for it, and saying “brother” and “sister” didn’t always shut out certain feelings of the heart. The boy was proof enough of that.

Brice frowned and kicked his horse into a slow gallop. He was glad to leave them behind. Ever since Jemma had died, he’d shunned any kind of emotional involvement with people. He was willing to treat their physical pains. That was all. He had enough worries of his own without borrowing theirs. Yet as he rode through the woods to his cabin, the pure innocence of the young sister’s blue eyes stayed with him.

He hadn’t built his cabin in town. Brice needed trees around him, not houses. If people wanted his doctoring, they knew where to find him. And they did. In spite of the stories they told on him, they kept coming after him when a loved one was sick.

He slowed his horse as he came in sight of his cabin. Smoke was rising out of the chimney and a strange man stood on the porch waiting for him.

“Dr. Scott?” the man said as Brice dismounted. When Brice nodded, the stranger held out his hand. “Alec Hope.”

Brice looked the man over carefully before he took his hand. Alec Hope was small but sturdily built, although age was beginning to gnaw at the edges of his strength. His leather britches were worn bare in spots, and the deep lines on his face told the hardness of the life he’d lived. An old scar from what looked to be a knife wound ran down the side of one of his cheeks. If the man had come for doctoring, there wouldn’t be much chance of him paying. Then as Brice kept looking at him, something about the man’s eyes looked familiar, as though they’d met before.

Brice shook his hand. “Do I know you?”

“Could be,” the man said. “I used to be around these parts some years ago.”

“What brings you out to my cabin, Mr. Hope?”

“I got a problem, Doc, and I’m hoping you can help me with it.”

Brice pulled the saddle off his horse and turned him into the small corral beside the cabin. “If it’s doctoring you need, I’ll do my best. Come on inside.”

Hope followed him into the cabin. “I didn’t think you’d mind if I built a fire and brewed some of your coffee while I was waiting for you.”

“Not at all. Smells good,” Brice said as he poured them both a cup. He sat down across the table from the man and waited. He’d learned not to rush his backwoods patients. They often had a hard time coming out with their ailments. He kept his eyes on the man’s face and tried to remember where they’d met.

The man moved uneasily in his chair. Finally he said, “It ain’t exactly a healing problem I got, Doc.”

“Then I don’t suppose I can help you, Hope. Maybe what you need is a preacher. I can direct you to the house of a good man not too far away.”

Hope shook his head. “I don’t reckon a preacher would help me none. Preachers is part of my problem. If you’ll just hear me out, Doc, I’d be obliged.”