A Place Called Home (2 page)

Less than 20 minutes had passed when Mark came through the door with a limp bundle in his arms. He spoke quietly as he laid his burden down. “The cut isn't deep but he's lost quite a lot of blood. We need to get it stitched as quickly as possible.”

Susanne picked up a cold, pale hand as her eyes moved over the boy. He was filthy from the top of his floppy hat to the boots on his feet (three sizes too large). His large pants and shirt were covered with a huge jacket, and the left shoulder of the shirt and jacket were stained with blood.

“I'll get his clothes, Mark, while you wash up.”

As Mark entered the small equipment room, Maggie came through the entryway door. The two women moved silently and in one accord. First came the jacket. Moving the boy as little as possible, they cut the shirt away. Maggie pressed a cloth to the cut as it began to bleed again. The boy seemed to be wearing some kind of tight undershirt that Susanne cut off. As it fell away the women stared at each other across the body. Susanne moved first and reached for the hat. It was pulled on tight and took a bit of gentle tugging to break free. Again the women exchanged a long glance, before Susanne turned on her heel and walked into the equipment room.

Mark had dried his hands and was reaching for the tray holding all he needed to stitch the cut. Susanne stopped in front of him. “Is the boy ready for me?” He was met with silence.

Alarmed that something had happened, he moved to step around her, but Susanne caught his hand. He raised his eyebrows in surprise as Susanne replied, “Mark, your patient is not a boy—it's a young woman.”

Mark Cameron's brothers Luke and Silas rode toward town. The warmth of the day, even at 7:00 a.m., told them August was going to be as hot as July. The men were headed to Mark and Susanne's. Luke was then to catch the 8:15 train for Chicago.

Things were still pretty quiet as they rode into town. They tied their horses in front of a large, white, two-story house that had served the town's medical needs for nearly 40 years. Joseph Cameron Sr. had converted the parlor into an office, and with great pride had turned it over to his grandson Mark upon completion of his medical training.

As the men walked to the front door, Luke's eyes went to his brother's work clothes. After Luke caught the train, Silas would be headed back out to the horse ranch they worked together, north of town. Luke was dressed in a suit that usually left the closet only for church. He envied Silas his comfort.

Susanne answered the door and each man hugged her. “We missed you last night at Julia's. Where's Mark?” Silas asked.

“He's upstairs with the patient who came in last night.”

The fact that a patient was upstairs spoke of a serious injury. Each man knew better than to question Susanne. She was the soul of discretion, especially concerning Mark's practice.

She turned to the brother-in-law whose face mirrored her husband's. “Luke, will you take some things to Paul? It's not very much if you can fit them in your case.”

“Sure, I'll work them in.”

“Can you stay for breakfast?” Sue asked.

“I thought you would never ask!” Silas spoke as he moved toward the rear of the house. “Where's my niece?”

Susanne answered as she and Luke followed him. “She's supposed to be in the kitchen setting the table.”

Emily was hard at work when the three entered the big, sunny kitchen. Her mother's voice broke through her concentration.

“Emily, your uncles are here.” A big smile broke across the little girl's face, and with an excited squeal she moved around the table toward her uncles. Upon spying the way her Uncle Luke was dressed, she stopped in her tracks.

“Is this Sunday?”

“No,” Silas answered.

Emily continued to frown in her Uncle Luke's direction until he came over and picked her up.

“How come you're dressed like Daddy today?” She, as well as the rest of the townsfolk, counted on the way the Cameron twins were dressed to tell them apart.

“I'm going on the train today.”

“Will you be gone for my birthday?”

“I'm afraid so, but I'll bring you something from my trip.”

Emily was more than pleased with his answer and was hugging him when her father joined them in the kitchen. Soon all five of them were seated at the table. Mark prayed, asking God's blessing upon the food, Luke's trip, and the patient upstairs.

After the prayer, Luke asked how serious the patient was.

“We're waiting out a fever right now.”

“Is it someone we know?” Silas asked, concern in his voice.

“No, she's not from around here—at least I don't think she is.” Mark's eyes went to his daughter and the conversation
moved discreetly to Luke's trip. He would be gone about three weeks and planned to see Paul, the youngest of the Camerons, at the seminary he attended in Chicago. He was also to look into buying two mares and a stallion for the ranch.

The time moved quickly. Mark went back to work and his brothers were again on their horses and headed for the train station. Things were bustling at 8:00 and the platform was crowded as Luke bought his ticket.

The brothers talked as they waited for the train.

“You did get over to say goodbye to Grandma Em, didn't you?”

Luke laughed at the question. “Let's put it this way, Silas: If I hadn't, I'd better not come back!”

Both men laughed and the train blew its whistle. They said their goodbyes and Luke moved along with the crowd to board. He settled into a seat and then waved out to Silas as the train pulled away. With the train gathering speed, he reached into his bag for the book he was reading and settled back for his trip to Illinois.

Christine Bennett fought against the blackness that threatened to engulf her once again. She was warm now but not burning up, as she had been before. Lying flat on her back on something soft, she knew without opening her eyes that it was daylight. She intended to lie there and try to organize her thoughts, but the sound of someone moving around the room was too much for her.

Peeking out between lids that rebelled at the idea, Christine focused slowly. She was more than a little surprised to find herself in a lovely bedroom that was not her own. Her eyes slowly took in the brightly flowered wallpaper and furniture, all painted white. The bed she was in was big enough for two of her, and sat off to the left side of the room. The far wall had a large window covered with white lace curtains, allowing the sun to stream in. Her eyes also took in a dresser, mirror, and rocking chair before coming to rest upon a woman bent over a plant in the corner.

The woman was dressed in a dark blue skirt and crisp white blouse. Her medium-brown hair was pulled back in a very businesslike bun. She hummed softly to herself as she watered.

Christine knew a moment of panic at not recognizing where she was; the thought made her squirm. The sound of her bedcovers moving brought an abrupt halt to the humming, and the woman advanced upon her with a beaming smile.

“Well, well, my dear. I had begun to wonder if you were ever going to wake up. My name is Margaret Pearson—‘Maggie' to my friends. Your fever broke during the night after nearly three days. I can tell you the Doc was glad of that! You've had us quite worried. It would have been a terrible thing to lose you, not even knowing your name. So tell me, my dear, what is your name?”

Christine looked into the face of this kind, smiling woman and realized she had never heard anyone speak quite so fast. Or maybe it was because she wasn't feeling herself.

Christine tried to speak, but the words came out in a croaked whisper. Maggie, immediately seeing the problem, drew Christine up with one arm and brought a glass of water to her lips.

Christine lay back and took a deep breath before attempting to speak again.

“My name is Chris—Christine Bennett. Please tell me whose house I'm in.”

“Oh! Christine! What a lovely name. Makes me think of Christmas!” Maggie said with her beaming smile. “As to whose house this is, it's the doctor's house—Doc Cameron, his wife, and his little girl. This room is kept special for patients who need to stay over. I'm Doc Cameron's nurse. Well! Listen to me chatter! The Doc will want to know you're awake and I'm sure you must be starved.” Maggie spoke over her shoulder as she headed for the door. “The Doc is a good man, the best doctor around these parts, but let me tell you, my dear, how fortunate you are. A few inches lower with that knife and the doctor would not have been able to help you.”

Maggie then moved out the door and did not see the little color left in Christine's face drain away at the thought of her own death.

Christine lay looking at the ceiling as she listened to Maggie's footsteps recede down the hall. For a moment she had forgotten the alley, the man with a knife, and all the events leading up to her arrival in the small town of Baxter. She tried to shift around in the bed, but the movement brought a sharp pain to her shoulder. She decided to lie quietly, and as she settled in again she let her mind drift back to Spooner and the morning after her grandfather's funeral.

“Christie, Christie dear, are you awake?”

“Yes, Mrs. Hall, come on in.” The bedroom door opened and Mrs. Hall, Joshua Bennett's housekeeper of some 20 years, came over to the bed carrying a small serving tray. Christine pushed herself backward in her bed until she was propped up against the headboard. After setting the tray on the bedside table, Mrs. Hall sat on the edge of the bed and took Christine's hand in her own.

“How did you sleep, Christie?”

The gentle words brought tears that Christine thought she had cried out completely the night before. In an instant the women were both crying and in each other's arms. They clung
tightly to each other in an attempt to soothe the hurt they were feeling and to fill the void hanging over them with the knowledge that Joshua Bennett was gone.

They separated after some minutes, each making an attempt to compose herself.

Mrs. Hall's smile was a bit shaky as she gestured to the tray. “I brought you some coffee and muffins.”