Nick aimed the longboat at the muddy bank and docked it perfectly. Robert was the first in the water to stabilize the boat.
“Well done, Nickloss. We may turn you into an honorary Iban yet.”
The crowd cheered when the wounded man and Nick stepped from the boat. They were instantly surrounded by the people, hugging them, slapping them on the back, and praising God.
* * *
“How is Ms. Maggie?” Robert asked as they floated in the river, bathing with the entire village.
“Good. Thanks to you, Robert.”
“I was not about to let anything happen to her.”
Nick dunked under the cool water and wiped his face when he came up. His hair was growing out, and he pushed it back. He felt cleansed of anger and anxiety, having let the river water carry it away. It seemed so easy in this thin place. Its rhythm flowed naturally like the sun and the moon and the currents of existence.
Nick felt reborn with a new awareness of the infinite goodness of God. It must be like this in the Kingdom of Heaven. His perception had shifted, and his eyes had been opened to the truth of who he was in God’s eyes. He was God’s beloved child. It was always there—his awareness had adjusted, the truth had not—it remained the same. He realized how blind he’d been to the truth—how he’d forgotten Jesus’s core teachings.
“So, what will you do now, Nickloss?”
Nick smiled at the old man. “I have no idea…and that’s okay.”
Robert laughed and nodded. “I think you see the world through new eyes—you see what was there, in the beginning. And there is far more to you than what your eyes showed you—it is Jesus, who lives in you.”
Nick smiled and nodded. “You know, Robert, I may not see you again until we get to heaven.”
Robert smiled a grand smile. “Yes, Nickloss, that is true. Won’t that be a glorious day! Hope against hope. Isn’t that what we carry? The eyes of our hearts have been opened to the hope of resurrection.”
“Until then…I’m going to miss you, my friend.”
“You as well, Nickloss.”
* * *
Nick waved at the Iban as his boat drifted downstream in the current. A great sadness overwhelmed him, but he realized for the first time in his life that great joy could coexist with sorrow.
He gave the villagers one more wave and one last glance. How he’d miss them. Life somehow felt like a continuous series of good-byes. Where could one find hope through that pain? In the lesser comforts or a medicine bottle? No…we find it only in God’s promises, Nick thought. When we live in the hope of heaven and the renewal of all things, we know that the good-byes are only temporary. We will see our loved ones again.
EPILOGUE
6 MONTHS LATER
LOVE
Nick drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. With his legs crossed, his right foot bounced. Adrenaline flooded his cerebral cortex. He tried pacing again, but that didn’t help either. His necktie tightened around his throat, and he pulled at his collar, trying to give his neck more room. A deep breath was impossible.
At least the rumors of storms turned out false, and the sun shone through the large picture windows of Glacier Park Lodge overlooking the majestic mountains dusted with snow. The lodge would close for the coming winter in two days.
Kerri Kim had been right. People didn’t like whistleblowers. Boxler had threatened to sue Nick, and when that didn’t work, she did everything she could to smear his reputation. “You’ll never work in the industry again,” she’d finally said, and the words echoed in his head.
He smiled to himself and shifted his legs to cross left over right. Now his left foot bounced. The courts had recently indicted Boxler on fraud, but her attorneys had so far managed to keep her out of prison. Nick hoped that would change. He suspected, as did others, that she had a hand in Dr. Amy’s death, but there was not yet any evidence to prove it.
At least Nick had gotten the FDA to delay the release of Revivere until Zelutex solved the problem with the acute reactions. He honestly hoped they’d figure it out, as the potential to help people was huge. With no contract signed before he resigned—or was fired, depending on who you asked—he would personally see no windfall. Kerri Kim would not return his calls. I guess I don’t blame her.
He’d turned Amy’s files on Welltrex over to the FDA as well, but just two days ago, he saw Zelutex’s new marketing campaign on TV during prime time. A shapely blond woman smiled serenely and said, “I got my life back.” People of every color and creed repeated the slogan over and over. Then the ad’s volume dropped and, almost like an afterthought, listed the potential risks and side effects while showing videos of people playing with puppies and running on the beach. The portion of the advertisement discussing the side effects was longer than half the ad. It finished with: “Call your doctor right away if you have any reaction to the medication. Welltrex should not be stopped unless directed by your physician.”
Yeah right…call your doctor if you start hallucinating or going crazy. Nick sighed deeply. Kerri was probably right—the FDA was in the pocket of big pharma.
His thoughts were interrupted when the door to his room opened. He was glad to shake them from his head. He was still learning about forgiveness.
Nick’s father came through the door, “You ready?”
Nick nodded solemnly and pushed himself out of the chair. Was he ready for this?
His father held the door for him to enter the expansive gardens of the lodge. Nick paused outside the door as the warmth of the sun and the crisp fall air met his face. He was overwhelmed with the sense that he was opening a new chapter in his life. Hope against hope—when all things seemed impossible—he was celebrating new life.
He glanced at the Rocky Mountains blanketed in snow, starting their great slumber into winter. The tamaracks and aspen were gilded against the forest green of the pines. The colorful gardens of the lodge had either put on their fall colors or withered into brown tones. Nature was rolling itself back, awaiting the great lethargy of winter, during which it would gather its strength to reemerge next spring. Death and life. Sorrow and joy. The cycle of life and the great hope of all things renewed. Someday, when Jesus returned to fulfill His promises to make all things new, when all sorrow and tears are halted, the cycles of death and rebirth would stop. Until that day, Nick was learning to hope against hope.
He took a deep breath. His friends were waiting, probably wondering if his feet had grown cold. He didn’t know all the mysteries of God, but he had a feeling that John was cheering for this day.
His dad put a hand on his shoulder. “You okay, son?”
Nick wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “Just missing John is all.”
It made his stoic father tear up as well. “Me too, son. Me too.”
“You think this is okay?”
His father looked out over the eastern range and nodded. “Yes…if anyone is going to care for Maggie…I know he would want this. He knows you’d lay down your life for her.”
That was certainly true. Nick’s nerves popped, seeing the rows of chairs filled with his friends anxiously waiting on him. It was supposed to be a small family affair, but when marrying someone from the reservation, you tended to marry the entire rez. It looked like the whole town of Browning had shown up. Maggie had laughed when he suggested they steal away to Vegas. She’d told him that everyone wanted to celebrate with them, that they all held a stake in it.
His knees went weak as his father pushed him forward to stand with the men who meant everything to him. He shook their hands as he passed them, Maggie’s two brothers along with Ali, and Buck, his best man. Buck gave him a bear hug that brought whoops from the Blackfeet nation. Then Nick hugged Chang who, as an ordained minister, had agreed to officiate the wedding. Nick turned to face the cheers of the gathered crowd.
Music started, and another door off the lodge opened. Maggie’s proud parents, Cliff and Mary Black Elk, emerged. And then came Maggie.
Buck patted Nick on the back as if to say, Wow. She had chosen a traditional Blackfeet wedding dress of supple buckskin. Fringe edged the sleeves and hemline, and delicate blue-and-white beading in intricate designs adorned the shoulders and neckline. Matching beaded leggings and moccasins covered her calves and feet. Her long black hair fell over her shoulders and down her back, and she held a fan of eagle feathers.
Her parents escorted her down the aisle. She was radiant, smiling warmly and receiving hugs and well wishes as she passed friends and relatives. When she finally locked eyes with Nick, his heart melted. Another mystery of God. How could love go so deep?
Nick smiled back at her and took two steps forward to receive her from Cliff and Mary, who hugged him. Cliff whispered in his ear, “Thank you for loving my little princess. We bless you with everything we have and everything we are.”
Nick hugged Maggie. “You are so beautiful,” he said and led her to stand with him in front of Chang.
Chang cleared his throat. “I’m sure this will not surprise all of you who know Maggie and Nick, but they wanted to keep this short and sweet.” His statement brought chuckles and more cheers from the crowd. They were ready to party.
“Go ahead, Nick.” Chang motioned to him.
Nick readjusted his hold of Maggie’s hands. “Maggie, I love you with my whole heart, with every part of my being. I am so honored, but somehow feel so inadequate to fill this role of being your husband. I promise to love you. I promise to protect you. I promise to comfort you in times of need and sorrow and to share with you in all of life’s joys. I ask for God’s help to be all that you need.”
“Maggie,” Chang said.
“Nicklaus, only the mysteries of God have brought us together. I never thought that I would be able to love someone again, and I stand here before you promising you my heart. I know that John is here with us in spirit. It is in our love for John and our unity with the heavenly Father that we can love each other freely. God’s love binds us together into oneness. I promise to love you and care for you through hard times and joyous times. I love you, Nicklaus Hart.”
Nick wrapped his arms around Maggie and held her close. The crowd cheered with approval.
Chang raised his arms to the crystalline blue sky, inviting the blessing of heaven. Then he said, “Ibrahim, come on up here, boy.”
Ibrahim left Astî’s side and made his way to the front. Chang held out his hands, and Ibrahim placed the wedding bands in them. Ibrahim then positioned himself in front of Maggie and Nick and stood wide-eyed. Ali tried to beckon him to move from the center of attention, but Nick gave him a reassuring nod to stay.
Chang handed Nick a ring.
Nick held Maggie’s hand to place it on her finger.
“Maggie…with this ring, I thee wed.”
Chang then gave Maggie the other ring.
“Nicklaus…with this ring, I thee wed.”
Another loud cheer rose from their guests.
Chang put his hands on their shoulders. “Then, with the power vested in me by the church and by the Holy Spirit, I bless you in the name of the Father, His Son, Jesus, and in His Holy Spirit. I pronounce you husband and wife. Nicklaus and Maggie, you may kiss.”
Nick smiled at Maggie, took her in his arms, pulled her close, and kissed her long and deeply.
A WORD FROM TIM
I hope you enjoyed The Rusted Scalpel. It was great fun to write and remember my time in Borneo…a magical place indeed. The issues with big pharma are ones that I feel very strongly about. Nick and Maggie will be back soon in the next novel which is percolating in my mind as I write this.
Building a relationship with my readers is the most amazing thing about writing. I occasionally send newsletters with information about new releases, special offers and video-podcasts about various subjects. I hate getting bombarded with spam emails, so when I say occasionally, I truly mean it. If you join my Readers’ Club today, I’ll send you a taste of my next book.
You can get your free content by visiting my website at AuthorTimothyBrowne.com. I look forward to getting to know you.
* * *
ALSO BY TIMOTHY BROWNE
IN THE DR. NICKLAUS HART SERIES
MAYA HOPE
A doctor stumbling through life. A North Korean bioterrorist plot. The two collide in an unforgettable tale.
THE TREE OF LIFE
A massive earthquake hits Eastern Turkey, the ancient area of Mesopotamia, unveiling hidden secrets and opening an epic battle between good and evil.
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Watch for the next adventure of Nick and Maggie in the 4th installment of A Dr. Nicklaus Hart Series and for Browne’s new historical fiction 2019.
THE GENE
Combine Artificial Intelligence and Gene Therapy…What could go wrong?
* * *
LARIMER STREET
Larimer Street is a historical novel based on the true story of my great-grandfather, Jim Goodheart. To quote an article in the Bloomington News in 1936; “The story of Jim Goodheart reads like a novel.” Yes, indeed!
Jim was a tall and handsome man, born in 1871 and most well known as the charismatic leader of the Sunshine Rescue Mission in downtown Denver (on Larimer Street). The Mission served the destitute and “bums” in an era that there were no safety nets of social programs. He grew the ministry to a program that had an annual budget of $60,000/year and served thousands and thousands of people; feeding, clothing, and sheltering them. But Jim was a man, like all of us, that walked with a significant limp and had life battles to fight. His war was against demons of alcoholism and impropriety that brought him to the point of losing everything, except the two things that were the most important to him, his wife, Ada and his faith.
Larimer Street is a story of courage, faith, redemption and the greatest of all—love.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
* * *
My Dear Reader,
I’m going to be very vulnerable with you. When I sat down to write The Rusted Scalpel, I was in a real place of brokenness. I was going through some very tough things. Also, I was at a crossroads in my career as a writer and transitioning out of clinical medicine…a profession that I had spent years and years in training. It is where I was safe; I could make a living and provide for my family. Writing full-time felt like stepping off a cliff into the great unknown. So much was stripped away. Yes, the ego certainly does scream loudest when it is being escorted out. As I sat down to write the outline, I asked the Lord, why. Why hadn’t He restored things, given me a breakthrough? The answer came fast and clear in my heart…“Because I want you to write from this broken place. To be a beacon of hope for those that have lost hope. Timothy, you know what it feels like.”
I also want to address the topic of medication use head-on. As a Western-trained physician, I am so very thankful for the medications that we have in our toolbox. Our lives would be unrecognizable without the life-saving drugs such as antibiotics, heart and cancer medications, and so many others. With a tendency toward depression and anxiety in my own life, I am grateful to the research and development of medications that help us battle those. NO ONE should ever be afraid or ashamed when those medications are needed. As a surgeon, I am also thankful that I could give my patients relief of their pain, post-operatively with pain medications. But with all things there are dangers. Last year, over 60,000 people died from overdoses of narcotics of one kind or another. I, like you, get irate over pharmaceutical companies making billions of dollars on the backs of those they are supposed to help.
One thing I know for sure is: Life is tough—no one escapes without battle scars. In this crazy world, where does one find hope? Do you find it in the lesser comforts of life or a medicine bottle? The pharmaceutical industry offers us “Better Living Through Science”, but there is always a cost. In The Rusted Scalpel, I explore this hard question: Wh
at if the drug manufacturers developed a drug that gave you the feeling of hope and happiness but came at the significant cost of losing your connection with God…would you take it?
But my dear friends, true hope can only be found in the Heavenly Father—that is the only place we find fulfillment, contentment, or even joy. When putting our hope in the promises of God, we must grab onto those promises with both hands and not let go. And if you’re holding onto this hope with both hands you can’t be holding onto anything else. I pray for you my friends that the glimpses of the Kingdom of God grow in your lives and like Paul prayed: “…that He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with power through His Spirit in the inner man, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith…”
May your eyes be open to the truth... Timothy
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MINISTRIES
* * *
There are many wonderful organizations throughout the world helping the poor, the broken and the destitute. They can use your help in reaching the world. Here are some of my favorites that I have personal experience with:
Mercy Ships
https://www.mercyships.org
Hope Force International
http://hopeforce.org
YWAM Ships
https://ywamships.net
The Rusted Scalpel Page 35