Wings of Promise (5 page)

Paul stood. “Give me one minute. I’ll get my bag.” He carried his plate into the kitchen and set it in the sink, then hurried into the front room and grabbed his medical bag.

Nena cleared the table. “Sorry, Kate, you’ll have to finish your meal standing.”

“I don’t mind.” Kate picked up her plate and cup and stood at the sink, where she ate the last of her eggs, took a final drink of coffee, and set the mug on the counter, then looked around, wondering what to do.

Paul placed his bag on the table, opened it, and then turned his attention to the woman and children. “Good morning. Have a seat,” he said, nodding at the chair.

There was another knock at the door. Nena rushed to answer it, her mukluks scuffing across the floor. Kate hovered near Paul, just in case he needed her for something.

It wasn’t long before the entire front room was crowded with patients. Some looked well and others seemed quite ill. Kate wondered if they’d manage to see everyone in a single day. She kept herself busy writing down people’s names and recording their reason for seeing the doctor. Those who were especially ill were moved to the front of the line. Occasionally Paul needed her help to calm a child, or to hold a compress, or to assist while he sutured a wound.

As a teenage boy moved out of the examining chair, Paul turned to a white-haired man shuffling across the room toward him. “Good morning,” Paul said. “What can I do for you?”

His eyes suspicious, the man studied Paul. “I always go to Alex Toognak. He knows the old ways.”

“I’m sure he’s very good,” Paul said. “You may go to him if you like.”

The man glanced at his hands. “I did. He said I should come here.” He lowered himself onto the chair.

Paul pulled up another chair and sat across from the elderly man. “I’m Paul Anderson. It’s a pleasure to meet you . . .”

“George Chilligan.”

“What can I do for you, George?”

“Well, I got a lot of . . .” He glanced toward the front room. Lowering his voice, George said, “My nose runs all the time. I go through two or three snot rags a day. Can’t stop it.”

Paul reached into his bag and took out a flashlight. “Guess I better have a look.” He tilted the man’s head back and, using the light, he checked the inside of his nose, and then using a tongue depressor, he examined his mouth and throat, and finally palpated his neck. “No sign of infection.” He thought a moment. “What do you use to light your house?”

“Oil lamp.”

“Whale oil?”

George nodded.

“Does it smoke a lot?”

“Sometimes. They all do.”

“That might be what’s causing your trouble. If you keep plenty of oil in it and cut the wick short, there should be less smoke. Also, I’d like you to try using a saltwater rinse. That should help.”

George stared at him for a long moment, and then asked, “How do I do that?”

After Paul explained the procedure, George went on his way, without a thank you.

“Don’t worry about him,” Nena said. “He’s always cranky.”

“I’m not worried,” Paul said with a grin. “Actually I like people who are a little rough around the edges. They make life interesting.”

All day people kept coming. Paul treated bronchial infections, stomach ailments, sore throats, and skin infections, and he pulled bad teeth, something Kate remembered all too well. Although the villagers usually went to Alex Toognak, they seemed glad to have a real doctor. Most thanked Paul before leaving. He was paid with coins, furs, and tobacco, and one woman gave him a jar of crowberry jam.

As Kate witnessed Paul’s generosity and genuine concern for his patients, her love grew. Why had God given her such a fine man, and why did Paul love her? She didn’t know the answer, but she was grateful.

The last patient left just as Nena finished preparing dinner. Paul and Kate hadn’t eaten since breakfast. There hadn’t been time. Kate suddenly realized she was ravenously hungry.

“You like some soup and biscuits?” Nena asked.

“I’d love some,” Kate and Paul said at the same time. They looked at each other and laughed.

Everyone except Peter sat down at the table.

“Where’s Peter?” Kate asked.

“He said he’s not hungry, that his belly hurts.” Nena looked at Paul. “I didn’t want to bother you over a stomachache.”

“No trouble. I’ll take a look at him.” Paul stood. “Where is he?”

“In his bed.” Nena led the way to the children’s room.

The boy lay on his side, pale and fevered. Alarm thumped through Kate. He’d seemed fine earlier.

Paul kneeled beside the bed. “So, you’re not feeling so good, huh?”

Holding his stomach, Peter shook his head.

“Can you tell me where it hurts?”

The boy touched his upper abdomen.

Paul nodded and rested a hand on Peter’s forehead. He glanced over his shoulder at Nena. “He’s running a fever. Probably just a bug of some kind. I doubt it’s anything to worry about.”

Nena’s brow furrowed with worry. “After lunch, he said he wasn’t feeling good. And he seems worse now.”

Paul turned back to his young patient. “Peter, can you roll onto your back?”

With a quiet groan Peter managed to do as he was asked. He looked at his mother, eyes fearful.

Paul gently probed his stomach. “Does this hurt?” Peter shook his head no. “How about this?” Paul pressed two fingers gently into the right side of the boy’s abdomen.

Peter winced. “Ouch!”

“And here?” Paul moved his hand to the other side of his stomach and applied pressure. Peter shook his head no.

“Hmm. The pain’s sharpest in the area of his appendix. No way to tell for certain if that’s it.” He straightened. “We’ll keep an eye on him and see how he does.”

Nena stayed with Peter while the rest of the family returned to finish their meal.

With her hunger satisfied, exhaustion swamped Kate. She struggled to keep her eyes open. Even so, Nick talked her into a game of Go Fish. With Paul and Joe chatting, she tackled the tenacity of the five-year-old, who had obviously played a lot of card games.

After Nick beat her three times, she headed to her makeshift bedroom. Joe had made up a place for her in what looked like a storage room. He’d apologized but didn’t want Peter’s illness to disturb her sleep. Finally comfortable and warm beneath the covers, she drifted toward slumber, her mind on the people of Kotzebue. It had been a good day.

One of the highlights had been a woman who was advanced in her pregnancy. Paul had let her use the stethoscope to listen to her baby’s heartbeat. When she first heard the muffled thumping of the child’s heart, her eyes lit up and she’d exclaimed her joy. To her, it was a miracle. Kate’s eyes closed and she wondered if she’d ever hear the sound of her own child’s heartbeat.

Kate didn’t know how long she’d been asleep when Nena roused her.

“Kate,” she said, her voice tense. “Wake up.”

Her mind still feeling muzzy, Kate pushed up on one elbow. “What is it?”

“Paul needs you.”

“Me? Why? Is something wrong?”

“It’s Peter. He’s very sick.”

Now fully awake, Kate hurriedly dressed and followed Nena to the kitchen.

Peter lay on the table, looking terrified and quite ill. Joe stuffed wood into the stove even though the room was already unbearably hot.

“What’s wrong with him?” Kate asked.

Paul had set out instruments on the table. “I’m pretty sure it’s an inflamed appendix.” He took Kate aside, out of reach of Peter’s hearing. His voice soft, he said, “If it ruptures, he could die. I’ve got to get it out.”

Kate’s stomach plummeted. She glanced at Peter, unable to imagine the rambunctious little boy dying. “Do you know how to do that?”

“Yes.” His expression was grim. “But I’ve never done a surgery under such primitive conditions.”

“I have confidence in you,” Kate said, resting her hand on his arm.

Paul’s gaze moved to Nena, then back to Kate. “I need someone to assist me. Nena’s going to take care of the anesthetic.”

Kate’s heart sped up. “I can barely tolerate a man’s stinking feet. How do you expect me to do surgery?” She glanced at Peter. “I can’t do it.”

“You’ll just be helping.” Paul’s dark brown eyes bore into Kate’s. “I need you.” He glanced at Joe. “Better you than Joe.”

Kate took a quaking breath. She had no choice. “What do you want me to do?”

P
aul washed his hands and dried them, then moved to the table where Peter lay beneath a sheet. He leaned over the boy and smiled down at him. In a soothing voice he said, “We’ll have you good as new in no time.”

Kate blew out a shaky breath and tried to relax tight muscles. Could she do this? She glanced at Joe. The worry in his heart lined his face and darkened his eyes, and then she looked at young Peter. Yes, she’d do whatever was needed.

“What you going to do?” Peter’s voice trembled.

Paul rested a hand on the child’s shoulder. “I’m going to take out your sick appendix.” He squeezed gently. “Your mama and daddy are here. And Kate too.”

“How you gonna get it out?”

Paul didn’t answer right away. “Well . . . I have some medicine.” He removed a container of ether he’d been heating over a burning candle. “It’ll make you sleep, and when you wake up, your appendix will be out. You’ll feel much better.”

Wide-eyed, Peter looked at his mother, then his father, who stood at her side.

Nena gently stroked his hair. “Your daddy and I are right here. Dr. Anderson is a good doctor.” She pressed a kiss to his brow.

Paul covered a small handheld mask with gauze. “I’m going to put this over your nose. Just breathe like you always do and soon you’ll be asleep.” He placed it over the boy’s nose and mouth, then dispensed two drops of ether onto the gauze. Peter’s eyes closed.

Paul watched him for a moment, then said, “Nena, keep the mask over his nose, and if he stirs or acts like he’s waking up, place one drop of ether on the gauze. No more than that.” He raised his eyebrows. “Let me know if his lips look the least bit blue or if his skin becomes abnormally pale. Also keep an eye on his breathing to make sure it doesn’t slow down too much.”

“I’ll keep watch,” Joe said.

“This is a dangerous medicine?” Nena asked.

“It’s good medicine, but we need to be cautious.” He offered her an encouraging smile. “I know what I’m doing. He’ll come through just fine.”

Fear glinted in Nena’s eyes as she took hold of the mask and accepted the ether. And yet, her hand was steady.

Paul turned to Kate. “I’ll need you to stanch any excess bleeding. And it’s hot in here, so if you can keep the sweat off my forehead and out of my eyes, that’ll help.”

Kate realized she was clenching her teeth. She couldn’t remember being more terrified. “How do I stanch the—”

“Use this clamp.” Paul held up what looked like long-handled tongs. He placed a piece of heavy gauze in the instrument and handed it to Kate. “Get more dressing as you need it.”

Kate took the clamp. She tried to keep her hand from shaking, but couldn’t quite manage.

Paul placed a hand over hers. “You’re a natural for this.”

He smiled encouragement, but Kate could see trepidation in his eyes. Was he afraid too?

Paul examined Peter, opening each eyelid and looking closely at his pupils. Using a stethoscope, he listened to the boy’s heart, and then folded back the sheet and watched the rise and fall of his chest. Next, he doused a cloth with liquid from a bottle and wiped it on the child’s stomach, leaving a reddish-brown smear. With a glance at Nena and then Kate, he asked, “All set?”

Both women nodded. Kate didn’t feel ready. She was a pilot, not a nurse. The last place she wanted to be was in this room.

With meticulous care, Paul picked up a small-handled knife. Every nerve in her body taut, Kate forced herself to watch. He palpated the boy’s stomach, and then pressed the blade to his skin. As he cut, flesh fell away and blood oozed.

Kate felt woozy.
I’m not going to faint. I’m not.
She swabbed blood as Paul opened the incision farther and probed for Peter’s infected appendix.

“Here it is,” he said. “And definitely toxic. Good thing we didn’t wait.”

While Paul worked, Kate forgot that she didn’t know what to do. Paul was patient and precise in his instructions, and her insecurity and queasiness was replaced by interest. She’d never seen the inside of a person’s body.

Paul glanced at Nena. “He still in a deep sleep?”

“Yes. How much longer?”

“Nearly finished.” He snipped off the inflamed appendix, lifted it out, and dropped it into a bowl. “Got it. Before you know it, he’ll be out pretending to be a mighty hunter and chasing after his brother.” He went to work suturing the inner incision and, when that was done, moved to closing the wound he’d made in Peter’s abdomen.

Finally, he tied off the last stitch. “That’s it.” He smiled at Nena and Kate. “Good job, ladies.” He wiped blood from his hands, then checked Peter’s pulse and respiration. “Keep him warm and quiet. He’ll sleep for a while.” Paul turned to Kate. “How you holding up?”

She lowered herself into a chair. “I’m fine.” She closed her eyes for a moment, and then looked at Paul. “I’m glad it’s over, though.”

Paul smiled. “Like I said, you’re a natural. You ought to think about becoming a nurse.”

“I’ll stick to flying, thanks.” Kate’s tone was dry, but she felt elated. She’d done something she’d never thought herself capable of, and Peter was going to be all right.

Paul and Kate remained at the Turchiks’ another full day until Paul was certain Peter would recover well. He left thorough instructions for his care, and then he and Kate set off. They had additional stops to make, but thankfully encountered no further emergencies.

When Kate set down in Anchorage, she was glad to be home.

“The Winter Festival ought to be in full swing by now.” Paul squeezed Kate’s knee. “We could use a little fun.”

Kate nodded, but she was worn out, and even the festival felt like too much. Working with Paul had turned out to be more than she’d counted on. It consumed a great deal of her energy and time. Plus she flew fewer hours and made less money. Exhausted, she longed for her bed, but she needed to get back into the air and hoped Sidney had work lined up. She glanced at Paul. He was counting on spending the time with her, and the idea of sharing the merriment of the festival with him made it hard to think about work. Maybe she ought to take a couple of days off.

Wearing his usual relaxed smile, Mike Conlin met them at the plane. “’Bout time you two got back.”

He gave Kate a one-armed hug and shook Paul’s hand. “How’d it go?”

“Good,” Kate said, glad to see Mike was his usual friendly self.

“You guys look beat. How about a cup of coffee?” Mike grinned. “Helen dropped off some fresh-baked cookies this morning.”

Kate was so tired even Helen’s cookies didn’t sound enticing. “Thanks, but I’ve got to take care of the plane and then I’m going to hit the sack.”

“What, you too tired for some of Sidney’s sinkers? They’re only a couple days old.” Mike grinned.

Kate loved doughnuts, but not the kind that had been sitting around the shop. “Not interested.”

Mike chuckled. “I’ll help you guys with the plane. Oh yeah, we have a new pilot. I’ll introduce you.”

“Sidney found someone, huh?”

“Yeah. A fella down from Fairbanks.”

“Good, now maybe Kate won’t have to work so hard.” Paul draped an arm over her shoulders. “It’ll give us a little more time together.”

Kate leaned against Paul. “I love being with you, but I need all the work I can get. I’ve got a house to save for.”

“We’ll have to do more
work
together.” He grinned.

“That sounds good to me.”

After the plane was secured and the oil drained, the three walked toward the shop. The mingled odor of overcooked coffee and diesel assaulted Kate’s nose when she stepped inside the building. She glanced around.

Sidney, who’d been studying a map, looked up. “Howdy.”

“Hi.”

Kenny crammed parcels into a pack. He glanced over his shoulder at her and Paul. “Hey there. Was beginning to think you two had taken off for good.” He grinned and whiffed at a strand of curly hair that had fallen across his eyes.

“It was a good trip. But I’m glad to be back.” Kate’s gaze landed on a tall, sturdily built man wearing a red flannel shirt. He was clean shaven except for a heavy mustache. Stepping toward Kate, he extended a hand. “You must be Kate.”

His grip was strong. “I am. And you are . . .”

“Alan Weber, pilot.”

His tone was friendly, but by his demeanor, Kate guessed he was shy. “Glad you’re here. We really needed another pilot.”

“I’m thankful for the job.” He turned to Paul and shook his hand. “I take it you’re the doctor.”

“Paul Anderson—glad to meet you.”

Sidney leaned back in his chair. “He showed up just in the nick of time. With you gone, Kate, I needed a pilot.”

“Glad to be part of the crew,” Alan said. “And it’s good to be based further south. Too cold and too dark in Fairbanks.”

Mike slapped him on the back. “Glad to have you. Sidney’s been working us to death.”

Kate massaged sore muscles in her neck and turned to Sidney. “Speaking of which, I’m wondering if you’d mind my taking a day off.”

“A day off? I’ve got flights stacked up.”

“I was just thinking—”

Sidney laughed. “You bet you’re taking a couple of days off, young lady. Go home and get some rest—enjoy the festival.”

“Thanks.” Kate could have hugged him, but decided not to embarrass him.

Paul scratched several days’ growth of beard. “I could do with a bath and a shave.” He turned to Kate. “Can I catch a ride with you?”

She looped an arm through his. “I was counting on it.” They headed toward the door and stepped out.

“Hey, Kate,” Mike called.

She stopped and, looking back at him, saw hurt and longing in his eyes. She let go of Paul’s arm.

“When you planning to go to the winter carnival?” he asked.

“Maybe tomorrow.” She looked at Paul for confirmation.

“Sounds good to me,” Paul said. “I brought along some pelts to sell and tomorrow seems as good a day as any to put them on the market. Thought we’d go together.”

“Well, I guess I’ll see you there, then.” Mike’s voice had lost its enthusiasm.

Kate cringed inwardly at the wounded look she saw in his eyes. She nearly invited him to join her and Paul, but held back. She wanted time alone with Paul. And this was the first day since they’d headed into the bush that they’d have time just for fun. “Okay. See you tomorrow sometime.”

Paul took Kate’s hand and they walked toward the car. She couldn’t wait for the next day.

After dropping Paul off at his hotel, Kate gratefully walked into her apartment. She dropped onto the sofa, unlaced her boots, and pulled them off. She wiggled her toes and considered going straight to bed. Instead, she ran a bath, stripped out of her clothes, and sank into steaming water.

Resting her head against the back of the tub, she closed her eyes, savoring the warmth. Thoughts of the last two weeks drifted through her mind. Working with Paul hadn’t been what she’d expected. They’d spent a good deal of time together, but she still felt as if she knew very little about him.

He was a kind and a highly skilled doctor, but why he’d left San Francisco remained a mystery. She wished he’d tell her about his life there and wondered why he kept so much of his past a secret. She closed her eyes. What if he’d done something so horrible he couldn’t speak about it?

No. Not possible. Not Paul
.

After a good soak, Kate put on pajamas, added wood to the fire, and climbed into bed. She shivered between chilly sheets. Pulling wool blankets up under her chin, weariness engulfed her, and she fell asleep.

Muted morning light greeted Kate as she forced her eyelids open. She gazed at the window. It was late. She rolled onto her side and looked at the clock on the bureau—ten o’clock. Reaching her arms over her head, she yawned and stretched, enjoying the luxury of not having to get up.

She remembered the carnival and wondered when Paul wanted to go. They hadn’t decided on a time. The aroma of baking pastries made her mouth water, and hunger convinced her to get up.

With a fire crackling in the woodstove, Kate stood at the window and marveled at fragments of light that were dispersed through an icy prism on the glass. She hummed “I’m in the Mood for Love.” Just the thought of Paul made her smile. Today would be fun.

She splashed her face with water, brushed her teeth and hair, and stepped into clean clothes. Taking only a few moments for makeup, she headed for the store at the front of the building.

Helen stood at the large window facing the street. She turned when Kate walked in. “Good morning. I thought you were going to sleep the day away.” She opened her arms and pulled Kate into a hug. “Nice to have you back. How was your trip?”

“Good. No real problems. Paul’s a wonderful doctor.”

“I’m not surprised.” Helen moved to a table set with breakfast goodies. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Love some.” Kate gazed out onto the street congested with people. “I never expected such crowds for the winter carnival.”

“Folks from all over the territory have been flooding in.” She handed Kate a cup of coffee along with a sweet roll. “Baked these just this morning.”

“I could smell them from my room.” Kate took a bite, her tongue appreciating the mingled flavors of apples and cinnamon. She sipped her coffee. “I didn’t realize how hungry I am.” She took another bite of the roll. “Delicious,” she said around a mouthful.

Helen filled another cup with coffee for herself. “Do you plan to join in the festivities?”

“I’m supposed to pick Paul up at the hotel this morning, but we didn’t set a time. I’ll have to call him.” Kate watched a group of children dart back and forth across the street, tossing snowballs at one another.

“Mike called this morning,” Helen said.

“Mike? For me?”

“Well, not exactly. He wondered if you’d already left for the carnival.”

“Hmm. That’s strange.” Kate finished off her roll and sipped her coffee. “He said something about seeing us there, but I’m sure he doesn’t plan to join us.”

“Sometimes it’s hard to shut off feelings . . . like love.” Helen joined Kate at the window. “Mike’s human, like the rest of us, and I suppose he hopes to see you around.”

“He knows how things are between me and Paul.”