Saints Among Us (13 page)

The Trimble child became silent, and Louise sat down at the piano to begin the introduction as the vocal rehearsal went on. After twenty minutes, Louise felt satisfied with their progress. The children had made a good start on “Hark! Through the Darksome Night,” and “Santa Lucia, Thy Light Is Glowing,” a simpler tune that could be sung in a round. She had made copies of the songs for each child to take home, and she intended to pass these out at the end of the rehearsal.

After a short break, Karin lined up the children in order of height. Louise had worried a bit about how to deal with the fact that this whole ceremony was created so that Marit Lindars could be a Lucia. Fortunately, Marit was the tallest of the gaggle of young girls, so it made perfect sense that she would wear the crown this year. And since no one had seen a Santa Lucia program before, the other girls all seemed thrilled to be handmaidens.

Louise figured that if this became an annual tradition, she would hereafter let Rev. Thompson deal with what was sure to become a thorny issue of choosing a Lucia.

Camp Compassion was quiet without the customary complement of volunteers. Wednesday evening, Alice, June, Ellen and the twins were sitting around a small campfire they had made when the evening’s work was done. Providing care had been difficult with so few people, and everyone handled at least half a dozen animals. Coming at the end of the day’s toil, the final hours were exhausting.

“I have to make one more trip over to the CCU,” Alice said, “and then I’m turning in. The next couple of days are going to be challenging.”

“You can say that again.” Miranda flopped down in a camp chair and fanned herself dramatically. “We’re going to be working twice as hard as we did before.”

“Based on the premise that there are only half as many of us left?” Her brother grabbed the back of the chair and pretended to tip her over.

“Royce!” Miranda’s arms and legs flailed. Fortunately, her twin was only teasing, and he steadied the chair with both hands, returning all four legs to the ground as she clutched at his arms.

“Those two.” Ellen shook her head fondly. “Sometimes I’m not sure if they’re seventeen or seven,” she said to Alice.

The camping area was oddly quiet. Alice had been used to hearing the murmur of low conversations, the metallic sounds of cooking over camp stoves and even the snores of their louder neighbors.

Now, the two little tents looked like an oasis in the middle of a desert. There were a few other tents still dotting the field, and the RV was still there. Mark’s mobile clinic was parked near the house, and Alice knew he had been sleeping there, as had Edmund, while Gina bunked with one of the other women.

“I may have to break down and take a shower in the morning,” June said. “Do you think we can manage to rig that shower up long enough to take turns?”

“We can hold the darn thing up if we have to,” Ellen said. “I think a shower is an excellent idea.” The shower enclosure had proven impossible to keep in place, and after two campers suffered embarrassment at the mercy of the unpredictable frame, attempts at showers were abandoned. But now that there were so few people about, cleaning up seemed less risky.

“I think we could do it if two of us hold the curtain in place while the third showers.”

“Oh, that would be heavenly.” June hugged herself. “My daughter didn’t believe me when I said I hadn’t had a shower in a week.”

“Sponge baths and baby wipes can only help so much,” Ellen muttered.

Alice laughed. “I’ve got snarls in my hair that may never come out.”

“Peanut butter works,” offered Miranda.

All three women turned and looked at her.

“Peanut butter?” echoed her mother.

“Yeah. You work it into the knotted part and just gently start teasing pieces lose. It worked wonders when I got a barrette caught in my hair in eighth grade.”

“Why didn’t I know about this?” Ellen said to the sky.

“Because Faith and I were fooling around, and I was afraid you’d get mad. It worked, so no problem, right?”

“I think I’ll pass on the peanut-butter solution.” Alice indicated her practical, chin-length hairstyle. “This doesn’t require anything quite that drastic.”

She rose from her chair and slipped off the rubber sandals she had been wearing around the tent area. Jamming her feet into her still-tied sneakers, she said, “I’ll be back in a little while. I want to see if I can get that poor shepherd to eat a little more.”

“I’ll walk you over,” Royce offered. “It’s easy to trip over that rough ground in the dark.” He rose, picking up a wide-beamed flashlight.

“Thank you.” Alice was grateful for the young man’s thoughtful concern. Walking through a bumpy field at night was challenging, and she appreciated the company.

Without further delay, she and Royce headed for the house. After he saw her to the door, he walked down the lane to visit with Kyle, the security man, for a few moments.

Alice stepped into the dim light of the CCU after she mixed up a bowl of the soft food she wanted to give the shepherd. All the dogs were quiet. The ones who had been there for a while were either too sick to notice her or too content in their safe environment to bark, and three new patients still were disoriented and subdued from their ordeal. Very few were in the same condition that they had been in when she arrived more than a week earlier. Rescue groups and departing volunteers made a daily dent in the number of animals at the camp, but each evening at intake, those numbers swelled again.

“Hey, my big boy.” Alice gently stroked the dog’s head as she set down the bowl. This evening, the shepherd lifted his head and looked alert, his ears up, providing an inquisitive appearance. “I brought you a snack to hold you through the night. Eat up.” Mark had warned her not to feed the dog large amounts at a time because its stomach had been empty for so long. Since her midafternoon victory, Alice had fed the dog two more small amounts of food.

The shepherd immediately started licking at the bowl of food. Alice backed away, happy to see the dog eating so well on his own.

A whining sound behind her made her smile. “You can’t stand it when I pay attention to someone else, can you?” she asked the cocker spaniel. Its pink tongue hung out. The small black-and-white dog had been there the longest, Alice was sure. Several times, Alice had seen rescue groups ready to take her until they saw the tumor. One woman even intended to take her despite it—until the little dog growled at the lady.

Alice opened the kennel door and sat down on the floor, and the cocker jumped into her lap as if she’d been doing it for years. “You’re someone’s pet. Somebody loved you.” She stroked the dog’s ears and scratched her neck, chuckling when the dog immediately rolled onto her back. Alice rubbed the smooth belly, keeping her hands well away from the tumor.

A quiet voice behind her nearly made her jump. “She loves that, doesn’t she?”

Mark. Alice relaxed as he lowered himself to the floor beside her, propping his back against the wall. “She seems to. I keep thinking someone must have loved her. She’s obviously used to being cuddled.” She indicated the dog now settling down on her lap.

“Sure seems like it.” Mark reached over to fondle the cocker’s ears but quickly withdrew his hand when the little dog curled her lip and uttered a warning growl.

“Stop that! He’s your friend. And mine.”

“Yours, certainly, but I’m not sure how many of the rest of us she likes,” he said, and she heard a hint of laughter in his tone. “What’s she going to do when you leave?”

Alice had already begun to worry about that very thing. “I don’t know. I keep hoping her owners will come for her.” Several times during the week, people seeking their pets had walked through the camp. On two occasions, there had been joyous reunions. But far more often, tears had flowed as hopes were dashed yet again. “Mark?”

“Yes?” He was watching the German shepherd still licking at its food.

“Will this tumor metastasize?”

He frowned. “There is no way to know without a biopsy. But I have to tell you, Alice, it has the classic look of a slow-growing malignancy.” He glanced down at the dog, lying contentedly on her back in Alice’s lap. “Look at her. She was somebody’s baby. An indoor pet, from the look of her coat.”

“How could they have let that tumor go?” Outrage quivered in her voice. She couldn’t stand the thought of a helpless animal suffering. It had no way to explain its pain. It depended on people to care for it and to love it.

“Perhaps her owners had no choice. Parts of this area are very economically depressed. People with no money can love their pets just as dearly as the local millionaire but be unable to afford veterinary care.” He indicated the kennels. “You saw how many of them haven’t been spayed or neutered. And I suspect that when they’re examined, a number of them will have Lyme disease or be heartworm positive.”

“Goodness. Thanks, Dr. Graves, for that positive assessment.”

He smiled, tipping his head back to rest it against the wall. “Sorry. I know you too well to sugarcoat anything. You’d realize I was lying in a heartbeat.”

Alice was silent. The moment felt oddly intimate, sitting together in the dim light of the small room, speaking in hushed tones. Could her life have been full of this kind of sharing if she had married Mark? She might have a grandchild in her lap instead of a rescued animal.

“Alice?”

“Yes?”

“Do you ever wish…that you’d done things differently?”

She smiled. “I was just thinking about that. You do know me well.” She took a deep breath, understanding what he was asking. Did she regret not deepening their relationship all those years ago? “Sometimes I wonder about it. My life has been satisfying. Happy, for the most part. I know people wonder how I could have been content as a spinster living with my elderly father. But they weren’t on the inside. Our lives were busy and fulfilling. Father, with my help, made a positive difference in so many lives for many years. Do I wish I’d done things differently? No, I don’t believe so. But I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t wonder what the path not taken might have led to.”

“I wonder sometimes too.” His voice was low. “But now I believe our lives have been just as they were meant to be. Each of us has a purpose, as we discussed the other day in our Bible study.”

There was a comfortable silence between them.

“You know I’ve spoken of retiring, of perhaps working part-time in a small companion-animal practice.”

“From treating elephants to being a small-town vet. Quite a change.”

He chuckled quietly. After a pause, he said, “I suppose what I would like to know is if you…have you ever considered whether I might be a part of your future?”

They were silent again. Alice continued to stroke the cocker spaniel. Finally, she said, “You have always held a special place in my heart. You know that. Right now I feel committed to making Grace Chapel Inn a success with Louise and Jane.” She took a deep breath. “If you ever retire—which I will believe when I see a letter to that effect’I would be interested in spending more time with you.”

Mark did not say anything.

“I wish I could give you a more definitive answer,” she said, unable to read his silence. “But I can’t decide in advance how I might feel about something that may or may not ever happen.”

“I understand. Perhaps there will be time for another conversation like this in our future.” He reached over and lightly covered her free hand with his. The cocker spaniel growled, and he chuckled as he released Alice. “I feel as if I have a chaperone.” He got to his feet and stood looking down at her for a long moment.

“Mark?”

“Yes?”

“Whatever the future holds, I hope you know how much I treasure your friendship.”

“And I yours. Good night, Alice.”

“Good night, Mark.”

She put away the cocker spaniel and removed the empty food bowl from the shepherd’s kennel, praising the dog for eating. She was greatly encouraged by that.

Royce was just returning when she stepped outside. Gratefully, she accepted his company on the walk back to their campsite, all the while mentally replaying Mark’s words.

Her prayers that night included wellness for the shepherd as well as for guidance in her relationship with Mark Graves.

Chapter Twelve

T
 hanksgiving Day began much like any other at Camp Compassion except that there were fewer hands to tackle the work. The group had decided to have a meal together midafternoon, after the lunch chores and before all the animals required evening feeding and attention.

Alice was cleaning kennels midmorning when she heard shouting and commotion outside. Instinct had her rising to her feet and rushing to the door. As she did, two people came toward her supporting a third between them. The person appeared to be cradling one hand with the other, and his shirt was smeared with blood.

“What happened?” She already was pulling on rubber gloves from one of the boxes Joe had insisted be kept all over the camp.

“Dog bite.”

Dear heaven. It was one of the things they all feared most.

One of the volunteers said, “Those doggone pit bulls’”

“Had nothing to do with this.” Corinne sent the speaker a glare. “It was a Labrador retriever.”

“Sit him down here, and someone stay close in case he passes out.”

“Blood doesn’t bother me,” the young man said. He grimaced. “But bite marks do.” Alice had to search her memory for a moment, but finally his name came to her.

“Foster, right? You’ve been working with Corinne on the bigger dogs.”

He nodded.

Alice knelt in front of him. “All right, let me take a look at that hand, Foster.”

The young man took a deep breath and extended his hand.

The dog had gotten a real hold on him, leaving open wounds on both the front and the back of his hand. At her request he wiggled his fingers and thumb, holding back a cry of pain as he did so.

“Excellent,” Alice said. “Your fingers are okay, and it looks like everything works.” Gently she used a gauze pad to wipe the blood away. The wounds were not as deep as they could have been, and she did not think the dog’s teeth had nicked any vital blood vessels. Still, the bleeding needed to be halted.

She stacked several gauze pads together and laid them over the wounds. “I’m going to put pressure on this for a minute,” she warned him.

He nodded. “Okay.”

Kyle was one of the people who had brought him in, and the beefy security guard extended a hand to Foster. “Here,” he said. “Squeeze if you need to.”

“Thanks, man.” Foster bit his lip and screwed up his face as Alice began to press on the wound.

“You’re going to need to see a doctor,” she said. “And quarantine that dog,” she added to those behind her.

“Already taken care of,” Joe said.

Foster shuffled his feet.

Carefully, Alice lifted the gauze away from his wound and was gratified to see the bleeding had slowed to a sluggish trickle. She cleaned the area with antiseptic and wrapped the hand in clean bandaging. “Off to the hospital we go.”

As before, Alice and her patient piled into a truck with Joe and zipped off to the medical clinic. Alice kept an eye on Foster, tucking a blanket around him to keep him warm as a precaution against shock.

Alice made a beeline for the telephone once Foster had been admitted into the ER and whisked away. She punched the buttons with a trembling finger, eager for the sound of home.

“Grace Chapel Inn, Louise speaking. May I help you?”

“Only if you’re prepared to drive to Florida.”

“Alice!” Louise put aside her usual composure; she sounded like a giddy girl. “Oh, it’s so wonderful to hear your voice. We miss you so much.”

“I miss you too.” Alice had to clear her throat. “Happy Thanksgiving. I wish I wasn’t missing Jane’s pumpkin pie and all the other goodies I know you’re having.”

“And we wish you were here with us. But I agreed with Jane when she told you to stay. We know you must really be needed to even consider missing Thanksgiving.”

“I do. There’s still a steady stream of animals being brought out.”

“Tell me about your experiences. I got a secondhand story from Jane before.”

“Where is Jane?”

“Oh! She’s in the kitchen. Let me go tell her to pick up the extension so she can listen too.”

It was wonderful to hear Jane’s voice again. Alice missed her sisters terribly. She told them about her little cocker friend with the tumor, about her victory earlier with the shepherd, and about the pregnant rottweiler. She tried to convey how close she felt to Ellen, to Royce and Miranda and Corinne, to Gina, Joe and Mark, and even to Dr. Spade, to everyone else with whom she was working. She was aware that her words weren’t able to paint a true picture, but she did her best. The one thing she did not mention was Foster’s dog bite. That probably was not a detail that would inspire Jane and Louise to believe her declaration that she was safe.

All too soon, she had to end the conversation. “But I’ll be home in five days,” she assured them. “And this time I mean it.”

“You’d better be,” said Jane. “I need some reinforcements to help me deal with Aunt Ethel.”

“Gee,” said Alice. “I believe I hear an ulterior motive hidden in there.”

Louise laughed. “Oh, it’s not hidden. Alice, she is driving Jane mad. I actually feel lucky that she isn’t speaking to me.”

“Still?” Alice was shocked.

“Still.” Louise sounded more resigned now than upset. “Please come home. You’re much better at keeping her calm and focused than either of us.”

The conversation ended on a happy note a few moments later, and Alice turned to find Joe standing at the door of the waiting room waving the car keys at her. They didn’t linger at the hospital as they had before, because a doctor informed them that they were going to keep Foster overnight. Apparently, there was some question about possible nerve damage, and they wanted to evaluate him further.

Back at camp after returning from the hospital, Alice found that Corinne had cleaned up the bloody, gauze-littered area Alice left behind when they took Foster to the hospital.

After providing a brief account of Foster’s treatment, Alice asked, “How, exactly, did it happen?”

“A freak accident,” Corinne said. “Foster went into the Lab’s run to give him a bowl of food. He tripped over a blanket and nearly fell, but caught himself. Unfortunately, he dropped the food bowl, and when he bent to pick it up, I guess the Lab thought he was taking it away, and wham! The dog nailed him.”

Alice winced. “Oh, what a shame for both of them.”

“Yes, because that seemed to be a nice dog otherwise. Now we’re going to have to record that he has a bite history and can be food aggressive, which reduces his chances of adoption significantly. And let’s face it, I wouldn’t want to be responsible for adopting him out to a family and learning that he’d hurt a child, would you?”

Alice shook her head. “That would be terrible. I wonder if the dog really is food aggressive or was just frightened.”

“We’ll never know. But he just came in last night, so he has good reason to be pretty freaked out. If you’d been starved for three weeks and someone gave you food, then started to take it away, what would you do?”

“I’d probably fight for the food.”

“Exactly. I’m pretty sure that’s what happened. The dog perceived a threat to his food source. I’m going to be watching him carefully for evidence of food aggression as he gets used to being fed regularly and doesn’t feel hungry.”

Corinne headed for the door. “Back to work for me. I want to tell the rest of the kennel workers how Foster is doing. They’re anxious.”

“That’s very understandable.”

“Hey, Alice.” Gina beckoned to her from the doorway of the critical care room. “I have something to show you.”

Something in Gina’s manner made Alice smile. Whatever it was, it was good news of some sort. She hurried into the CCU. “What is it?”

“Look.” Gina pulled her to the kennel at the end, the kennel over which they had draped towels yesterday.

Alice lifted one of the towels and peered in. The rottweiler lay on her side. Nestled against her was a mass of tiny, wriggling puppies.

“She had them!” Alice was delighted. She knelt and counted. “Seven?”

Gina nodded. “They don’t look preterm, and they’re all pretty lively. She cleaned them up right away and has started feeding them.”

“They’re precious.” Something positive like this was what she had needed after the unfortunate bite accident. Alice dropped the towel back into place and stood. “I can see it’s going to be hard to get anything done. I’m going to be tiptoeing over there for a peek every five minutes.”

Gina laughed. “I know. She—Alice! Look!”

Alice turned to see why Gina was so excited.

There, standing in its kennel, albeit on wobbly legs, was the German shepherd Alice had fed the night before. Its tail was waving tentatively back and forth.

“Oh, baby boy.” Alice went over, opened the door of the kennel door and knelt. The dog took a tentative step forward and pressed his broad head against Alice’s chest. “What a good boy you are. You’re doing so well.” She cuddled the big dog for a little while, marveling. True, she loved animals, but if anyone had told her she would be sitting in front of a German shepherd with a mouthful of teeth inches from her face, she would have refused to believe it.

Gina came up beside her with a bowl of the soft food they had mixed for the big dog. “Work your magic, O Great One,” she said with a grin.

Alice chuckled. “As if you haven’t worked a few miracles of your own in here.” She put the bowl before the shepherd but was disappointed when the dog turned its head away. “I know you like this stuff,” she said to the big dog. “You ate it last night.”

She maneuvered the bowl around in front of the dog several times, but no luck. Finally, Alice said, “If only you knew how much I hate this,” and she scooped her hand into the bowl of food. She held her palm beneath the shepherd’s nose. “See? You’ve got your very own serving woman. Now come on, buddy, let’s eat.” She was rewarded when the dog gently took the food from her hand.

Behind her, Alice heard a quiet yet victorious “Yes!” and she was sure Gina had just pumped her fist into the air as she was wont to do.

Someone else entered the room. “How did she get that dog to eat?” Alice heard Dr. Spade’s voice.

“Isn’t it amazing?” Gina was cheery and enthusiastic. “Lots of TLC.”

Dr. Spade went over to check on the rottweiler and her pups. “Looks like everybody’s doing fine in there.” It was the first time Alice had heard anything approaching satisfaction in his voice and she smiled as she continued feeding the shepherd. “I actually came in here for a reason,” the vet said. “I’m supposed to tell you the meal is almost ready. Round up your troops for Thanksgiving dinner.”

He turned and walked out, and Alice swiveled until her gaze met Gina’s.

“Wow!” said Gina. “He was almost normal.”

Thanksgiving at Grace Chapel Inn was odd without Alice, Louise decided. That was the only word for it.
Odd
.

Jane had invited their aunt and her special friend Lloyd Tynan for the meal even though Louise and Ethel were still at odds. Jane had mentioned the meal to Sylvia Songer, whom she feared might be alone on Thanksgiving Day, and Louise had learned that Kenneth Thompson also would be on his own, so she invited him. They had two guests from the inn, an older gentleman as well as a young woman who taught in a private school, whom the two sisters had agreed to invite to share in their feast. Then Jane, in a burst of magnanimity that Louise suspected she was beginning to regret a bit, had called Florence and Ronald Simpson. Having no children of their own, she suspected they did not have plans. When Florence accepted with alacrity, she realized her suspicions had been correct.