Love's unfolding dream (Love Comes Softly Series #6) (3 page)

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Marty finished up her evening duties and set out the cream and milk to cool.

She gave one last wipe to the table and had scarcely turned around when she heard the dog barking. They had not been expecting company. It was getting on toward dark.
Who's coming at this hour?
she wondered as she peered out the window.

Through the evening gloom, she immediately recognized the horse at the hitching rail. Luke's black doctor's bag hung from the horn of the saddle. The noise in the yard quickly changed from cries of "One, two, three," or "Home free!" to shouts of "Uncle Luke!" Marty went to the door to add her welcome.

Belinda had already claimed Luke's attention, pouring out her sad story about the sparrow and its untimely death. Luke hunched down in front of her to listen attentively.

"An' if you woulda been here, it might not have died," Belinda finished, just a hint of reproach in her voice.

Luke did not say, as he could have, that he had more important things to be doing. He did not even excuse himself with the fact that he had no way of knowing about the bird. Instead, he laid a gentle hand on Belinda's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."

From the expression on her big brother's face, Belinda would know he meant it. Though still a child, she also knew Luke should not have to feel guilty that he wasn't there when he was needed.

Looking as though she might begin to cry once more, she swallowed her tears and reached out for Luke's hand.

"It's okay" she comforted. "Ya didn't know. It was hurt pretty bad an' maybe. . ." She let the sentence remain unfinished and brushed at her wet eyes.

"What brings ya out this way?" asked Clark as Marty joined them at the front gate.

"Baby Graham just arrived," announced Luke with a grin.

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"Oh!" exclaimed Marty, her eyes shining. "Lou's? What is it?" "Another girl."

"My land! That makes 'im five girls now." Marty laughed. "Ma was a hopin' fer a boy this time. Her with all those granddaughters and us with all the grandsons! Seems it should even out

like."

"Well, when I left, Ma Graham was busy fussing over that girl like it was the only thing she ever wanted," said Luke. "If she was disappointed, I sure didn't see it."

"'Course!" responded Marty "'Course she would. Jest like I fuss over each new grandson. I am sure glad I've got Amy Jo close by, though."

Just then Kate's voice drifted over the farmyard. "Amy Jo, bring the boys in now It's time ya be gittin' ready for bed."

Marty saw the disappointed looks on four small faces, but they moved to obey their mother.

Luke reached out a hand to rumple the hair of young Dack as he passed.

"We'll see you tomorrow. Remember. You are all coming for dinner after church."

The frown turned to a grin, and young Dack skipped ahead to join his older brothers and sister.

"Can ya stop in fer coffee?" asked Marty of their youngest son.

Luke grinned. "Thought you'd never ask," he quipped, flipping the reins of his horse over the hitching rail. "It's been a long day. I thought that baby was never going to make an appearance. Guess she just wanted to keep us all in suspense as long as she could."

Marty led the way back in and placed the coffeepot on the stove. When she had cut some slices of pumpkin bread and placed them on the table, Luke didn't even wait for the coffee but reached out to help himself.

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"You ought to teach Abbie how to make this," he said around the mouthful.

Marty smiled, thinking of the wife Luke had brought back with him from the East, where he had trained as a doctor. Abbie was a dear girl with a heart as big as Luke's, but she had not had the advantage of knowing how to make good use of garden produce. She had been raised in a city, where a garden other than flowers was unfamiliar. But she was trying. She had her own vegetable garden now. She loved to watch things grow and was learning how to use all its produce.

"She's welcome to the recipe," responded Marty with a pat on Luke's shoulder as she went for the coffee. A secret smile creased her face as she remembered her own early culinary efforts as Clark's new wife.

Luke pulled a small book from his pocket and began to pencil in an entry. "That's thirty-seven," he said.

"Thirty-seven what?" Belinda piped up from her perch on the woodbox.

"Thirty-seven babies. Thirty-seven that I have delivered since becoming a doctor."

"Thet's quite a number," remarked Marty.

"It's been almost seven years already. Seven years! Just think of it."

"It's hard to believe," said Clark. "Seems ya jest got yerself back."

"Deliverin' babies must be 'bout the nicest part of yer work," Marty commented as she poured the coffee.

"It's exciting, all right--but I like the rest of it, too. I think I'd soon get weary of just waiting on little ones to decide it's the right time."

"Do you like makin' stitches?" asked Belinda. Her question reminded Marty that the young girl should be getting ready for bed.

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"Belinda, ya hurry an' wash fer bed now. It's already past yer bedtime," she chided mildly.

Belinda no doubt wished she had kept quiet--maybe her mother wouldn't have noticed her. She looked as if she was about to argue when she caught her father's eye. It told her plainly that she was not to question her mother. Reluctantly she rose to do as she was bidden.

"As soon as you're ready, I'll tuck you in," Luke called after her, and she cheerfully rushed out to do her washing up.

True to his word, after another piece of pumpkin bread, Luke went to tuck Belinda in. He felt a special closeness to his little sister. He remembered he had looked forward for a long time to having a family member younger than himself. Belinda was special to him in another way, as well. Luke could already sense in her a kindred spirit. Belinda loved to nurse things back to health.

He smoothed back her hair with a hand still smelling of medicine. Belinda told him she loved the doctor smells. She turned her face slightly toward the hand and breathed more deeply.

"Do you like makin' stitches?" she repeated the question that had gotten her noticed in the kitchen.

"Sure. Sure I do. I'm sorry that folks need stitches--but I'm glad I know how to sew them up properly"

Belinda's eyes shone. "I would, too," she confided.

Luke brushed back the wispy gold hair that curled around her face.

"I wish I was a boy" sighed Belinda.

"A boy?" There had been a time when Luke had hoped Belinda would be a boy. Now he wondered why. This dear little sister was one of the most special people in his world.

"Why?" he asked. "Why a boy?"

"Then I could be a doctor," answered Belinda. She sighed

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more deeply and looked into Luke's eyes. "Iffen I was a doctor," she said, "I'd never have to wait for someone else to come. I could help things myself."

"Like the little bird?" asked Luke softly.

Belinda just nodded, her eyes looking troubled again.

"You don't need to be a doctor to learn to help things," Luke assured her. "You could be a nurse."

"Could I?" breathed Belinda, her eyes wide and shining at the thought.

"Of course."

Belinda smiled--then a dark frown replaced the happiness on her face.

"It'd never work," she said mournfully. "Mama would never let me go way back east to learn how to be a nurse."

Luke hoped he could keep the amusement from showing on his face. "Maybe not," he said evenly. "Maybe not--at least not now. Mama didn't want me to go away when I was eleven, either. I had to do some growing up first."

"But. . . but . . ." began Belinda, and Luke interrupted her. "It's hard to wait to grow up, isn't it?"

Belinda nodded solemnly.

"That's what I used to think. That's why I tagged along with Dr. Watkins. I wanted to learn all I could--as fast as I could."

The disappointment did not leave Belinda's eyes. "But Dr. Watkins is dead now" she said.

A stab of pain went through Luke as he thought of the kind doctor. He had died only two years after Luke took over the practice. The doctor had been out fishing all alone, and Luke often wondered if he could have been saved if only someone had been with him at the time. But all of Luke's if
onlys
could not bring their dear doctor back.

He shifted his eyes to Belinda's face. "Well,
I'm
here," he stated simply.

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She stared at him for a while. "Would you teach me?" she ventured.

"Why not? I think you'd make a good nurse. If you work hard and--"

"Oh, I will. I will. I promise!" she exclaimed, sitting up to throw her arms around her brother.

Luke tweaked the soft cheek, then kissed his sister's forehead. "Then you'd best get some sleep," he said. "Being a nurse is awfully hard work. You'll need your rest."

Belinda held him close for a minute.

"Thank you, Luke," she whispered.

"Sure," he responded and kissed her again before tucking the blankets under her chin.

Luke joined his parents again in the big farm kitchen, and his mother poured one more cup of coffee for him.

Luke stretched his legs wearily.

"So you had you quite a time with Belinda today?" he asked.

"She sure made a fuss all right," responded Marty. "Yer poor pa was 'bout to head fer town without even havin' him some supper."

Luke looked at his father and grinned. "Didn't know you felt so strongly about sparrows," he joked. "Seems to me I remember you destroying a nest or two when I was a kid."

Clark ran a hand through his thick hair, then smiled a bit shamefacedly at his son. "Ya won't go mentionin' that to Belinda, now, will ya?" After Luke laughed, Clark said, "Ya think I spoil 'er?"

Luke sobered and looked at his father. "I didn't say that," he said slowly. Then he added with his own look of embarrassment, "If you'd brought her in, you know who would have been looking up medicine for 'bird shock' and fighting to save that little birdie's life."

They all laughed.

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Marty looked at her son and said solemnly, "I worry 'bout her, Luke. She is so tenderhearted I fear lest she won't be able to cope with the world out there, with life and death. She grieves so when anything is in pain."

Luke was silent for many moments.

"She wants to be a nurse," he finally said slowly.

Marty's eyes were wide as she gasped, "Belinda? Why, it would kill 'er! She would never be able to stand seem' folks who were hurt and in pain."

"Did ya talk about it with her--discourage her somehow?" asked Clark.

"Me?" responded Luke and shuffled about uncomfortably. "Well, no . . . not really. Fact is, I . . . I . . . well, I promised to help her."

Both his parents looked at Luke as if he had lost his senses. "But . . . but, she'll never be able to--"

"It'll break her heart fer sure."

"Maybe not," stated Luke. "I know she can't face the suffering of any little creature now. But maybe--just maybe--learning to do something about the suffering is just what she needs. Don't you see? If she feels she is actually helping those who suffer, then she might make a good nurse. A great nurse! She'll try . . . she'll really try hard. . . ."

Luke let the thought drift away, carefully watching the eyes of his mother and father as he spoke.

Marty shook her head and reached for her coffee cup, toying with the handle. Clark unconsciously began to rub his aching leg.

"I'd like to take her with me on some of my house calls," said Luke matter-of-factly.

Two heads jerked up. Two pairs of eyes fastened on Luke's face to see if he was serious. No one spoke.

"That okay?" questioned Luke.

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There was silence as Clark and Marty exchanged unspoken messages.

"Well?" Luke pressed.

Clark straightened in his chair. He cleared his throat and looked again at Marty.

"Sure," he began slowly. "Sure . . . when the time comes. . ." "Pa," Luke cut in. "Pa, I think the time has come." "But she's jest a child! Only eleven," Marty exclaimed. Luke paused a moment, then said, "I knew when I was eleven. I knew." His quiet voice had gotten their full attention. Marty finally said, "It's just so sudden. It jest . . . well. . . we

haven't had us time to think on it. . . to pray. How 'bout we talk it over some?"

Luke placed his cup back on the table and rose to his feet. "Sure," he said, smiling. "Sure. You think about it, talk it over, pray. I think Belinda and I can wait for that."

Clark rose from the table, too.

"I best be running along," said Luke. "Abbie will want to know all about that new Graham baby"

He leaned over to kiss Marty on the cheek, then reached for his coat.

"Don't worry, Ma," he said. "She's still a little girl. She won't be leaving you for a long time yet. And we won't push. If it's not right for Belinda--why, we'll steer her in another direction."

Marty smiled weakly at Luke. She patted his hand as if to say there was no one else she would even consider entrusting their Belinda's future to, and he squeezed back with the unspoken message that he understood.