Hearts Aglow (16 page)

“Still ain’t fittin’.”

“I find that strange coming from you. Didn’t you tell me you trained early on to learn healing?”

The older woman’s face contorted into a scowl. “I was in a healin’ family. My granny and mama were healers. It were only right that I take on the chore. Miss Deborah ain’t from such a line. She’s got no reason to be workin’ in such things.”

“I beg to differ,” Deborah said, returning from the delivery of the pie. Mara was close on her heels. “I loved my science courses at the university and believe that I have a gift for such things. I’ve helped on many occasions with sickness and wounds and I want to serve others by increasing my knowledge and skill.”

“Folks round here ain’t never gonna accept you doctorin’ them.”

“And why is that, Miz Foster?” Mara asked.

Christopher almost felt sorry for the older woman. With Deborah and Mara standing up to her, surely Miz Foster had met her match. Of course, not many folks had the guts to face the woman who was known to put curses on a fellow without warning.

But Margaret Foster was not to be bested by the younger women. She gave a jerk of her chin in defiance. “Ain’t proper for her to be treatin’ folks. She ain’t even married yet and shouldn’t have any knowledge of a man’s body. What man is gonna marry her, with her knowin’ such things?”

“I don’t believe that is an issue here,” Christopher declared.

He threw a wink at Deborah and found it most charming to see her blush.

“Papa says that men and women should do as God calls them,”

Mara countered. “Sometimes God calls us to tasks that seem unlikely, but He always has a reason. I think it’s marvelous that Miss Vandermark would take on such an endeavor. I’d be pleased to have her for my physician. Seems a woman would better understand another woman’s ailments.”

“But it ain’t needed here,” Mrs. Foster declared. “I’m here to see to it.”

“True for now, but that doesn’t mean you will always be here. I think that anytime a person can increase their knowledge, it is good, don’t you?” Mara questioned, looking to Christopher.

He crossed his arms and raised a brow. “I think that knowledge is always beneficial.”

“I do, too,” Mara replied, smiling as if the matter were completely solved. “I wonder, Miz Foster, if you wouldn’t mind helping me with an herbal matter. I understand you have managed to grow butterbur. I think it’s positively wonderful for headaches.”

Margaret Foster seemed ready to speak on the earlier matter, then closed her mouth. She looked suspicious for a moment before finally nodding at the smiling young woman. “Come with me.” She looked to Dr. Clayton and Deborah. “You two shouldn’t be left alone. I’d get on home if I were you, Miss Deborah.”

With that she marched to the door, Mara following quickly on her heels. Mara turned and gave a grin before following the older woman outside. Christopher let out a heavy breath and shook his head.

“That woman would try the patience of Job.”

Deborah shook her head. “She makes me so mad sometimes.

All I want is to do what I feel qualified and capable of doing. I don’t mind studying until my eyes are blurry, but I have the right to be given a chance.

“How is it fair that she goes around turning people away from the idea of my becoming a doctor? It’s not right.” Deborah began to pace, waving her arms for effect. “It’s pure jealousy. She’s just out of sorts because she thinks I’ve taken something from her. But I haven’t. And why is it not acceptable for a woman to treat an injured or dying soul, just as a man might do? I’m so intolerant when it comes to dealing with ignorance.” She fisted her hands and let out a growl of frustration.

“Should I get the water pitcher?” Christopher asked casually.

“And another thing – ” Deborah stopped and looked at him oddly. “What?”

“The water pitcher? Remember when you doused me to calm me down? I promised to keep it handy, and there it sits.” He pointed to the table under the window. “I just wondered if I needed to retrieve it for the purpose of helping you to let go your anger.”

“No. I’d rather not have to explain.” She sighed. “I don’t mean to be so volatile. It just crosses me wrong from time to time. I try so hard to do what’s right, and then something like this happens. Maybe I should give up. Maybe it’s not what God wants me to do. Maybe I just think it is.”

Christopher heard her voice and figured a walloping dose of pity might be Deborah’s prescription for dealing with the matter. Not that she didn’t deserve to feel somewhat sorry for herself – but he couldn’t allow it to steal her focus. “You might be right.”

She looked at him oddly. “What do you mean?”

“Just what you said – you may not have understood God correctly. It might be best to stop what you’re doing and go home to rethink and pray about the matter.”

“But I have prayed. I pray about it all the time. I love learning how to help treat people. I’ve been so blessed to be able to help G.W. and Sissy. You said yourself that G.W. would have surely died had I not taken the measures I did when he was injured. I can’t believe that God would give me such a desire and understanding if He didn’t mean for me to use it.”

“Then stop whining about what one backwoods woman thinks.”

Deborah stopped and looked at him for a moment. She seemed to be considering his comment as if there were some great, hidden wisdom in the statement. Finally she nodded. “You’re right. I guess I lost sight of the truth for a minute.”

“You are going to be fighting an uphill battle when it comes to your desires to train in medicine,” he told her. Reaching out, he pushed back a wisp of her dark hair, then let his finger trail along her jaw. “You have to stop worrying about what other people say and think. Focus on what you know to be right. You are gifted when it comes to medicine. You’ve learned more in the short time since I’ve been here than many people learn in years of study. You devour the journals and books that I have to offer, and you retain most of the information without error.”

He felt her body sway ever so slightly as Deborah leaned into his touch. He wanted to kiss her, but it would be a mistake, as this was a very public place. Using every last ounce of determination, Christopher stepped back.

“Now, if we’ve resolved this crisis, I need to go. I have some folks to call on.”

For a moment, she said nothing. To Christopher, it almost seemed as if she was battling within herself to either go or say something more. Finally she turned.

“Don’t forget your pie,” she told him. “Also, I brought your books back. They’re on the desk, as well.”

“I’ll be seeing patients at the mill all day tomorrow. How about you join me?”

She whirled on her heel and looked at him in surprise. “Truly?”

He grinned. “I wouldn’t tease about such a thing. It’s about time folks get used to seeing you in this role. You won’t learn any other way than to see and experience the variety of ailments and injuries. None of these visits require anyone to disrobe, so there should be no hint of impropriety. If a man is truly uncomfortable with your presence, I will trust you to have the goodness of heart to excuse yourself.”

She nodded. “I promise.”

Christopher could see the excitement in her eyes. “Good. Be here at ten sharp.”

Euphanel was busy in the garden when Rob appeared seemingly out of nowhere. “What are you doing here? I figured you’d be some hours yet in the log camp.”

“Uncle Arjan said my mind wasn’t on my work and I was dangerous.” He plopped down on the ground just beyond where she knelt.

“You troubled about something?”

He nodded. “I guess that’s what it is. I don’t rightly know, exactly. I find myself thinkin’ about two things all the time. They’re consumin’ my mind.”

“Let me guess,” his mother said with a smile. “One of them is Mara Shattuck.”

“I reckon that’s easy enough to figure out.” He grinned. “The other might surprise you.”

“And what would that be?” She straightened and felt the stiffness in her knees. Funny, she used to be able to kneel for hours on end. She supposed it was just another flaw of growing old, and another good reason that it was silly to consider remarrying at her age.

“Well, you know I accepted Jesus as Savior when I was just a young’un?”

“Of course. I was there, praying with you.”

Rob plucked a weed from the side of the plot and toyed with it while he continued. “I’ve been thinkin’ that maybe God wants more from me.”

“In what way?” Euphanel asked.

“Like maybe I should become a preacher or somethin’.”

She hadn’t expected this train of thought. “A preacher?”

“I know it’s a surprise to you. I’ve always been the wild one around these parts. Folks would probably laugh out loud iffen they knew what I was ponderin’. But . . . well . . . it just keeps comin’ back to mind.”

Euphanel carefully considered her words. “You should always stand ready to answer God’s call. If He is of a mind to make you a preacher – then that’s what you should be.”

“But what about the book learnin’? I ain’t got a good education.

That was never of interest to me. But now, what with Deborah teachin’ me to read better, I guess I’m startin’ to wish I’d gone to school more.”

“It’s never too late to learn, is it?”

He shrugged. “Can’t hardly see myself sittin’ in the Perkinsville School.”

She smiled. “No, maybe not, but you could learn at home, and there are numerous schools elsewhere or tutors that could be hired.”

“But what about the company and Pa’s dream for us boys to share it?”

Euphanel could easily remember the times Rutger had talked of just such a thing over the dinner table or after devotions. His vision for Vandermark Logging had definitely included his boys. But she also knew her husband would not have wanted any of his children staying with a job they felt was wrong for them.

“I believe your father would have wanted you to do what you felt was right. If God is directing you into the ministry, your father would have been the last one to stand in your way.”

“I kind of thought that, too, but I figured it might be wishful thinkin’.” He smiled. “You know how I like to do that.”

She started to get to her feet, and Rob jumped up quickly to assist her. “Thank you, Son.” She dusted the dirt off her skirt and straightened. “Your father . . . and I . . . would be proud to have a preacher in the family. We’d be even prouder to know that our son was willing to put aside his own plans and desires and follow God’s voice. Never think otherwise.”

Saturday evening, Euphanel headed to the church to meet with those who wanted to sing. She’d been a little uncomfortable when Arjan announced he would drive her into town and join the ensemble, but since Deborah and Lizzie couldn’t come, it was a reasonable alternative. Even if the girls had come, Euphanel was certain Arjan would have insisted on accompanying them. It would be dark by the time they concluded, and he would never hear of them journeying home alone.

So she swallowed her fears and made small talk as Arjan drove.

Sissy joined them, although she sat in the back of the wagon and left Euphanel and Arjan to sit on the wagon seat together. Euphanel was startlingly aware of his presence – the warmth of his body next to hers, the scent of his cologne. Goodness, but she didn’t even remember that he had cologne to wear.