The Tender Flame (27 page)

Josh darted down the slope, weaving between trees, with Casey and Herman behind him.

When they reached the spot, the men were carefully laying Jed on the ground. Josh breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Jed clenching his teeth and blinking his eyes. Josh knelt beside Jed, then looked at Luke Kimble.

“No way to know how much damage is done, Josh, till we get him to Doc Fraser.”

“Get a wagon ready,” Josh said. “I’ll take him.”

“I’ll go with you,” Casey said, “if it’s all right with Luke.”

Kimble nodded, then told a couple of men to bring a wagon.

Josh leaned close to the injured man. “You’ll be all right, Jed. We’ll get you to Doc Fraser.”

Jed swallowed hard and met Josh’s gaze. “I … can breathe now. It hurts, but up there between those logs, I thought I was going to have the life squeezed out of me.”

“You just rest easy. Don’t try to talk. It’ll be a bumpy ride, but we’ll get you to town as soon as possible. Casey will ride in the back of the wagon with you and keep you as comfortable as he can.”

At the clinic, which had once been owned by Dr. Clay Price, Josh and Casey sat in the waiting room while Dr. Emmett Fraser and his nurse tended Jed. Josh had his head bowed and was silently praying that the Lord would spare Jed’s life. When he finished praying, he looked up to see Casey staring at the floor, hands clasped, face pale.

“God won’t let Jed die, will he, Josh?”

“I’m certainly praying that He won’t. Like Dr. Fraser said, there could be serious internal damage. We’ll know a lot more when he’s finished examining him.”

Casey stared at the floor again and mumbled something unintelligible.

“What did you say?”

Casey cleared his throat. Tears were swimming in his eyes. “I said it could’ve been me crushed between those logs. I’ve climbed many a log stack and used a bar to straighten up a wayward log. I’ve never had my foot slip like Jed’s did. It could’ve been me, Josh. If it had been, and I had died—” His voice choked as the tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Yes, it could have been you, Casey,” Josh said quietly. “And?”

“If … if it had been me, and I had died, I’d be in hell now.”

“Jed told me you said you weren’t sure that you believed there’s a hell. Apparently you’ve changed your mind.”

Casey drew in a deep breath. “Yeah, I’ve changed my mind. Jesus wouldn’t have gone to the cross and suffered like He did if there was no hell to save us from. Jed helped me understand that.”

“That’s exactly right. And you admit that you would be in hell right now if it had been you crushed in the logs and you had died?”

“Yes. I don’t want to go to hell.”

“There’s only one way to miss it.”

“I know.”

“And that is?”

“I have to repent of my unbelief, repent of my sin, and ask Jesus to come into my heart and save me.”

“That’ll make you one of us fanatics. Do you understand that, Casey?”

“Yes, I understand. And that’s what I want, Josh. I want to be one of those born-again fanatics who loves Jesus like you do … and like Jed. I don’t want to wait another minute!”

After Josh led Casey to the Lord, he told him they should pray together for Jed. Josh led them as they prayed, but when he said amen, Casey prayed aloud too, fumbling a bit with his words but asking the Lord to spare his friend.

The door opened and portly Dr. Fraser entered the waiting room. “Your friend is quite bruised up from his chest to his toes, but I find no indication of internal injuries. He’s got three cracked ribs,
but those will heal in a short time.”

“Doctor!” Casey said. “You mean he’s not going to die?”

“No. He’s going to be just fine.”

Casey looked toward heaven and said, “Thank You, Lord Jesus! Thank you!”

“This young man sounds like a fanatic to me,” Fraser said with a smile.

Josh chuckled. “Yes, Doctor, he just became one. Could we see Jed?”

“Sure.”

“I’d like to take this fanatic in there and let him tell Jed what just happened to him.”

The morning sun was glowing over the plains as Daniel and David Smith embraced their mother. Her condition had deteriorated, and she was sitting in an overstuffed chair in the parlor. Grant had taken the morning off from his job at the bank to drive Carrie into town for a doctor’s appointment.

“I’ll be fine, boys,” she said. “You head for school before you’re late.”

Jessica looked at her mother, noting the dark circles that shadowed her eyes. “Now, Mama, if Dr. Stafford says you shouldn’t try to cook breakfast and supper for a while, you mind him. I can take care of it until you’re feeling better.”

“We’ll see.”

“We sure will,” Grant said. “If Dr. Stafford tells you to rest more, Jessica and I will see that you do it, even if we have to hog-tie you to that bed!”

Carrie smiled.

Thirty minutes later, Jessica stood at the front door of the house and watched her parents’ buggy turn onto the road. She blinked at the sudden tears in her eyes and quickly closed the door, then went to her room. She fell to her knees beside her bed and prayed, “Dear Lord, I beg of You, please make Mama well. She’s the most wonderful
mother in all the world, Lord, and I thank You for letting me be her daughter. You know how much I love her and need her. Please make her well. And Lord … about Josh. You know how much I love him. If it’s not in Your plan for Josh and me to be married, then You’ll have to work a miracle in my heart. I really need to hear from You on this, Lord Jesus. Amen.”

F
OR A WHILE AFTER THEIR MOVE TO
C
OLORADO
, Carrie Smith had experienced renewed strength and vitality. But in the past few weeks, the symptoms of her illness had been becoming more pronounced by the day.

Grant and Carrie concentrated on the positive as they drove to the doctor’s office. There was a deep and abiding love between them, and Grant would do anything to make her life as happy and fulfilled as possible, however long that life might be.

Grant sat in the waiting room while Dr. Peter Stafford made his examination of Carrie, with a nurse at his side. Carrie had lost weight since her last appointment. Her face had an ashen hue except for the rosy spots on her cheeks due to the fever.

She studied the doctor’s eyes as he listened to her lungs with his stethoscope. When the nurse took the thermometer from her mouth, Carrie said, “Doctor, I want you to be honest with me. Please don’t try to spare me. I want to know the truth about my—” Her words were cut off by a sudden, hacking cough. When the coughing ceased, Carrie lowered her hand from her mouth. “I want to know the truth about my condition.”

Stafford looked at the nurse for the temperature reading.

“101, Doctor.”

The doctor turned to Carrie, a serious look on his face. “Mrs. Smith, it is true that you’re not improving as I had hoped, and as your doctor in Maryland had hoped when he sent you to Colorado. But we mustn’t despair. I can give you some stronger cough medicine, and if you’ll get more rest, I can be somewhat optimistic.”

“More rest. All I’m doing now, Doctor, is cooking breakfast and supper for my family. The rest of the day, I do nothing but lie in bed or sit in a chair while I watch Jessica do all the housework. She and Grant do the grocery shopping. Must I even stop cooking?”

“You’ve told me before that Jessica helps you do the cooking, but that you carry the main load yourself.”

“Yes.”

“Can you continue to cook the two meals?”

Carrie closed her eyes. “No. Not like I have been. It’s down to Jessica doing about half of it.”

“Mrs. Smith, as your physician, I’m telling you that you must leave all the cooking to Jessica. Without total rest, your condition will get worse. You asked me not to beat around the bush, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then I won’t. Until we can get you much improved, you are not to do any of the cooking. Do you understand?”

Carrie stared at him silently, a pained look in her eyes.

“And please obey my orders about staying in the house during inclement weather. If you should catch a cold, it would be extremely dangerous for you. Now, while Nurse Johnson helps you button up, I’ll go tell your husband what I’ve just told you.”

Grant and Carrie drove to the general store to pick up a few groceries and supplies while in town.

“Want to stay out here or go in with me?” Grant asked.

“I’ll go in with you,” she replied, giving him a fragile smile.

When they returned to the buggy, Grant placed the boxes of groceries and supplies in the back, then helped Carrie onto the seat.

“Next stop, the post office,” he said. “Then we’ll head for home. Are you all right?”

“Just a little tired. Dr. Stafford’s nurse gave me a dose of salicylic acid before I left the examining room. I can tell it’s helping to bring my fever down, but it’s making me feel a bit weak. I’ll be fine.”

Moments later, they pulled up in front of the post office. Carrie waited in the buggy, watching people move about on the street. Soon
Grant emerged from the log building and laid the mail on the backseat.

“Jessica will be happy. There’s a letter from Josh.”

She smiled. “I hope there’s something positive in it.”

“Mr. Smith!” It was young Rollie Demers, the Western Union delivery boy, aboard his horse. “I was about to ride out to your house, sir. I have a telegram for Miss Jessica from Oregon City, Oregon. Are you headed home?”

“We sure are. We can take it to Jessica.”

For lunch Jessica had prepared barley beef soup, which was simmering on the stove. She was cutting thick slices of hot bread when she saw the family buggy pass by the kitchen window. In a few minutes, her parents came through the back door. Grant had a steadying arm around Carrie.

“What did Dr. Stafford say?” Jessica asked.

“Your mother is to get more rest, honey. Doc said she’s not to cook any meals till she’s much better. He gave her some stronger cough medicine and said if she’ll obey his orders and get more rest, he expects that she’ll get better.”

“Well, Mama, that settles who cooks the meals, doesn’t it?”

Carried managed a smile. “Only temporarily.”

“Fine. When you get better, we’ll see about it. Soup’s on. Do you want to eat here at the table, Mama?”

Carrie placed fingertips to her temples. “I’m pretty tired right now. I’ll have Daddy help me to the bedroom. You can bring lunch to me there. That soup and hot bread sure do smell good.”

“I’ll have it on a tray shortly,” Jessica said.

“As soon as I get your mother in bed, I’ll come back and bring the groceries and things in from the buggy.”

“All right, Daddy.”

When Grant and Carrie entered their bedroom, he said, “Sit here on the edge of the bed, honey.”

Grant removed Carrie’s shoes, swung her thin legs up onto the bed, placed fluffy pillows at the headboard, and propped her up against them.

“Aren’t you going to give her the letter and the telegram?” Carrie asked.

“I’ll wait till lunch is over. Otherwise she’ll be dashing off to her room to read them, and lunch will get cold. I’ve got to get to the bank as soon as I can.”

A moment later, Jessica came in carrying a tray. Steam was lifting off the soup and butter was melting into a thick slice of bread.

“Sure smells good,” Carrie said.

“I hope I’ve done justice to it.”

“You’re already twice the cook I am.”

“She’s good, honey,” said Grant with a chuckle, “but not that good!”

While Jessica filled their bowls with soup, Grant carried in the boxes from the buggy and set them on the cupboard.

“I’ll put everything away, Daddy. Come on and eat your lunch. I know you need to get to the bank.”

When they were finished eating, Jessica started to wash the dishes. Grant took a final sip of coffee, rose from the table, and set the cup beside her.

“Got a little something for you in the buggy. Be right back.”

When Grant returned, Jessica’s hands were deep in hot soapy water. He waved the white and yellow envelopes in front of her, a mischievous grin on his face. “From Josh.”

Jessica squealed. “Daddy! Why did you wait till now to give it to me?”

“Because I wanted my lunch!” He extended the two envelopes toward her. “There’s a telegram here, too.”

She eyed the yellow Western Union envelope, which was on top, while drying her hands on a dish towel. “The telegram’s from Josh?”

“I would think so. It’s from Oregon City. The Western Union messenger was on his way to deliver it when he saw us in town.”

Jessica’s fingers trembled as she took the envelopes from his hand. “Which one should I read first?”

“Well, since he no doubt wrote the letter first, I’d say you should read it before you read the telegram.”

Eyes dancing, she said, “See you when you get home from work.”

“Well, tell you what. Mama and I are more than a little bit interested in what Josh has to say, so I’ll go look in on her. Come and tell us what he says, will you?”

“All right.” Jessica ran out of the kitchen.

Grant watched his daughter disappear through the door. A wistful smile curved his lips and a sigh escaped him. He gave himself a mental shake, then left the kitchen and entered the bedroom and lowered his tall frame onto a chair next to the bed.