by Karen Baney
Emily refused to talk to her, plunging the knife of rejection deeper. Last week, Hannah showed up with the small quilt she sewed for Emily’s expected child with the fabric scraps they picked out together. When Emily opened the door, she crossed her arms angrily, not saying a word. Hannah tried to hand her the gift. Emily slammed the door shut; not taking the package from Hannah’s shaking hands. She set the gift on the porch, before hurrying down the sidewalk, her vision blurred.
If Emily, her closest friend, failed to forgive them, how could she expect more from acquaintances?
She checked the bread, which browned nicely, so she pulled the loaf from the oven, filling the room with the sweet aroma. Setting it aside to cool, her thoughts returned to their dilemma. What could she do to convince the community that neither she nor Drew supported Thomas’s actions? How could she help bring patients back to Drew’s clinic? Lord, show us what to do.
The immediate answer she hoped for drowned in unbearable silence. Had even God turned his back on them?
Hannah poured herself a cup of coffee as tears pooled in the corner of her eyes. As they spilled over, she brushed the moisture away. Opening the back door to the porch, she sat in her favorite rocking chair coaxing it into motion with the slight push of her foot. Sounds of the busy street out front floated back to her hidden retreat. The August breeze blew a few tendrils of her hair loose kissing her skin softly with a hint of the cooling temperatures to come.
Slowly rocking back and forth she considered what she and Drew might do. The sick and injured needed good doctors, especially since so many doctors left for the war. Any town with a reasonable population could support a doctor. Perhaps she and Drew could find such a town nearby in southern Indiana.
While not the same as Ohio, Indiana might be a suitable substitute. Hannah always dreamed of raising her children in the same town where she grew up. Yet, her barrenness greeted her daily, taunting her with the hopelessness of never seeing her dream fulfilled. And, now the current situation made staying in her homeland nearly impossible. Yes, perhaps Indiana would suffice.
Slowly she stretched, letting her fears and disappointment melt away as each muscle pulled taut before releasing refreshing relief. Getting up from the rocking chair, she headed back into the kitchen to put the finishing touches on dinner.
The hearty fragrance of beef stew and freshly baked bread usually brought Drew into the kitchen before supper, but not today. She set the table then went to his office to fetch him.
As she crossed the threshold from their living quarters to Drew’s office, she saw him bent over his desk studying something on the page before him. So as not to startle him, she gently laid her hand on his shoulder. Almost unconsciously, he reached up and softly caressed her hand, his eyes never leaving the paper. After a few moments in silence, he dropped his hand and pushed back the chair to rise.
“Supper is ready,” whispered Hannah.
“Shall we, Mrs. Anderson?” Drew winked, then offered his arm in the manner he did when they were courting. His eyes twinkled with mischief.
“Let’s, Mr. Anderson,” she replied with a smile as they headed to the kitchen table.
After Drew finished saying grace, he began, “I’ve been thinking about what we can do, since so many of our patients are now going to Doc Henderson. I read in the paper a few days ago that there is a need for doctors elsewhere, and I thought— ”
“Maybe we should move,” interrupted Hannah, pleased that he came to the same conclusion as she had moments ago. “I’m sure there is some small town in southern Indiana that would be perfect for us. I mean, I don’t want to leave, but things are not turning around. People are just not willing to forgive us for Thomas’s involvement in the bank robbery,” she stammered to a halt.
Drew paused, spoon half way to his mouth. A puzzled look wrinkled his brow. “I truly did not think you would be willing to leave. I, too, was thinking we could relocate…but a little farther west…to the Arizona Territory.”
Clank! Hannah’s spoon hit the side of the bowl before dropping down into her lap leaving a dark trail of stew on her green calico dress. She paused for a moment to recover both her spoon and her senses. Arizona Territory! That’s so far away. What is he thinking?
Trying to keep the panic from her voice, she asked, “Why the Arizona Territory? Why not some place closer?”
“I agree that we could go some place closer, but I don’t believe that is where God is calling us.”
Of course he would bring God into this, she thought wryly. Not that she would discount God’s prompting—she just hated to leave Ohio.
Drew continued, “There is a gold mine town called La Paz along the Colorado River in the western edge of the territory. The town is growing rapidly and is in need of doctors. If we leave soon, we should have enough money to get there. If we can sell the house before we go, we would be in better shape.”
Drew reached across the table to squeeze her hand. Hope and excitement graced his features. His voice pleading, “Don’t you see? We could start over. A new life. No one will know us or our past. Or Thomas’s past.”
“But don’t you want to be close enough to support Thomas as he goes to trial?” she squeaked, trying to find some way to stay closer to her beloved Ohio—where both her parents were buried, where she met Jesus, where she hoped to raise her children.
Drew frowned at her suggestion, withdrawing his hand. His voice took on a hard edge as he replied, “He made it clear that he no longer wants my support or, as he would see it, interference. He is a grown man and he needs to manage his own life. I refuse to let his actions destroy our future.” His voice softened, “Moving west gives us the anonymity we, and our future children, need to be free from what he has done. I think it is for the best that we move to La Paz.”
Hannah paused, several emotions filling her heart at once. She grieved for Drew’s lost relationship with his brother. She feared the unknown dangers they would face on such a long journey. She would miss her home and her friends, even if many were no longer acting like her friends. Could she live in a gold town? What kind of rough men would be there? Would there be any reputable women there?
Frankly, she cared not, for she desperately wanted to remain here. “We cannot possibly move so far away.”
With slow, deliberate movements, Drew deposited his spoon on the table. “Yes, we can.”
“Have I no say?”
Drew’s lips pressed into a thin line, matching the deep lines in his furrowed brow.
“I want to raise our children here. Our friends are here,” her desperation grew. “Those that are angry with us could still change their minds.”
“Hannah, stop!”
The forcefulness of his command halted any further words from forming. Folding her hands in her lap, appetite gone, she bowed her head, waiting for him to speak.
“We will be leaving in a few weeks.” The cold words chilled her heart.
“So, you’ve decided then,” she whispered.
“Yes,” came the curt reply.
Standing, Hannah grabbed her bowl of barely touched food and tossed it in the waste pail. Drew remained seated, finishing his meal, while she began cleaning.
How could he be so unreasonable? Why not some place closer? Hannah continued to stew over the decision as Drew left her kitchen. She did not agree with his decision. She did not understand it. There were so many other options. Yes, he said he thought God was leading them there. But, if He was, wouldn’t she feel some sense of rightness in the decision?
Nothing about this seemed right to her. Instead of being settled in their new home in a few weeks, they would travel for months. How long would such a journey even take? How dangerous would it be?
The next morning Drew woke before the first sunrays peeked through the window in the upstairs bedroom. A bird whistled cheerfully from its perch on the tall maple tree next to the clinic. Thank you, Lord, for this beautiful day. Calm my fears about this move. Help Hannah to have the co
urage and strength for this. I know she is sad to leave, but be with her. Help her to know your hand is in this.
He slid his long legs over the side of the bed and stood, glancing back as Hannah began to stir. Her hair billowed as a soft cloud around her face. His breath caught and his heart swelled within his chest at the beautiful sight. He could hardly believe she was his wife. He loved her so dearly. She deserved the security she craved, and Drew vowed to see she would receive it—even if they must travel across the country to find it.
Drew washed up and dressed for the day before rushing down the stairs into his office. Certain there would be no patients again, he planned to use most of the day preparing for the move. Sitting at his desk, he made a mental checklist of things to accomplish for the day which included a trip to both the mercantile and the barber shop. Oh, and he also needed to stop by Doc Henderson’s.
By the time Drew finished planning his day, the aroma of frying bacon wafted into his office beckoning him to eat. His stomach growled as he entered the kitchen. Hannah handed him a plate of fried eggs, toast, and bacon. Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he sat down to the table.
Drew stated, “I’m going to head over to Doc Henderson’s this morning to invite him for supper tonight.”
“Is this a social visit?” Hannah asked, pushing the food around on her plate. Her sullen expression and lack of appetite concerned him. Was she still upset about the move?
Pushing his own question aside, he answered hers, “Since our clinic is larger than his current office, I thought I would give him the opportunity to make an offer.”
“Alright, I’ll be sure to make some pie for dessert then,” Hannah replied softly still not making eye contact.
On any other day, Drew might try to draw his wife from her dour mood. But, his own worries vied for attention. Should Doc Henderson show no interest in the clinic, Drew thought it doubtful the house would sell before their departure. Someone outside of the medical profession would have to convert the surgery rooms and he suspected few potential buyers would welcome the extra work. Perhaps Mr. Davis would agree to act on his behalf if the house failed to sell.
Once finished with the meal, Drew pecked Hannah on the cheek. Then he retrieved his hat from the stand in the parlor. The street was relatively quiet this early in the morning so he quickly covered the short distance to the mercantile his father once owned. Smiling at Francis, the man who purchased the mercantile from Drew, he waited for the older man to finish with a customer before approaching the counter.
“Drew,” Francis said, “What can I help you with this morning?”
“I came to see if you might have any information on traveling west,” Drew answered getting straight to his purpose.
“Hoping for a fortune in gold?” Francis teased.
Drew shook his head. “Specifically, what might one need to know to relocate to the Arizona Territory?”
Francis rubbed his hand across his chin, as he often did when considering a customer’s request. After several minutes, he pointed Drew to a stack of books with specifics on westward travel. Flipping through the pages of several, Drew chose one to purchase.
“If you are serious about heading west,” Francis said, “you might want a copy of the schedule of departures from Fort Leavenworth. That is where most of the big westward bound wagon trains are leaving from these days.”
Drew took the pamphlet and slid it in the front cover of the book. Thanking Francis for his assistance, Drew departed for his next errand.
With book in hand, Drew walked a few doors down to Mr. Tilley’s barber shop. Sitting in the chair, he asked Mr. Tilley numerous questions about his brother’s westward journey. Mr. Tilley explained that his brother’s family boarded the steamboat here in Cincinnati and took it to Fort Leavenworth. Once there, they purchased supplies for the journey, including a wagon and team. When the haircut concluded, Mr. Tilley jotted down the contact information for the wagon train master his brother used.
As Drew started towards Doc Henderson’s clinic on the other side of town, he considered the timing of the move. According to the schedule, the next wagon train departure would be in mid-September. If they left in two weeks, they should have enough time to get to Fort Leavenworth and purchase supplies for the trip. He would bring his medical supplies with him. Hopefully he could convince Hannah to only bring the absolute necessities—certain that space would be limited in the wagon.
Slowing his pace as he neared Doc Henderson’s, Drew bounded up the stairs and into the crowded waiting room. Inwardly he cringed when greeted with the unwelcoming glares of the patients. Doc Henderson’s nurse looked up and smiled as Drew moved further into the room.
“Dr. Anderson, what can I do for you this morning?” she asked.
“I’ve come to speak with Doc Henderson for a moment, but I see his is quite busy, perhaps I should—”
“Drew, my boy!” exclaimed the elderly doctor as he led the previous patient to the door. “What brings you here this fine day?”
One mother with a colicky infant, presumably tired of waiting, scowled at Drew as he answered, “I was hoping to speak with you for a brief moment.”
“Come on back,” Doc waved.
Feeling the piercing looks against his back, Drew hurriedly followed the doctor into his private office. “I would be honored, Doc, if you would join us for supper this evening. I have a few things to discuss with you.”
“Certainly. You know I love Mrs. Anderson’s apple pie. Any chance she might be planning to bake one today?”
“Well, I guess you’ll just have to stop by around six to find out.” Drew countered. He enjoyed the friendly banter with his colleague.
Doc Henderson eagerly agreed and wished him a good day as Drew ran the gauntlet of testy folks in the packed parlor.
With the whispers and frowns from Doc Henderson’s patients, Drew no longer doubted his decision to leave. The townsfolk refused to trust him again, though the trust broke through no fault of his own. Anger boiled to the surface. How could Thomas be so selfish! Did he have any idea what his actions were costing his brother?
That evening, Doc Henderson arrived promptly at six. Drew greeted him warmly and showed him into the parlor. While Hannah finished preparing supper, they filled the time with talk of the medical profession.
When Hannah stepped into the parlor, Doc greeted her, “Mrs. Anderson, so good to see you.”
“Doc, I have a surprise for you,” she said, leading the way to the quaint table in the kitchen.
“Tell me, did you make some of your famous apple pie for dessert?” he begged.
“Of course. I know it is your favorite,” she replied taking her usual spot to Drew’s right.
Doc Henderson smiled, obviously pleased by the news. Drew motioned for him to take the seat on his left. Taking his place at the head of the table, Drew bowed his head and offered thanks for the meal, silently asking God to motivate Doc Henderson to buy the clinic.
Following the simple, albeit selfish, prayer, Drew started, “Well, Doc, as you know in recent weeks the townsfolk have made their displeasure with my brother’s actions more than noticeable. I have not had a single patient for some time now.”
And the last one died—that frail politician that suffered from an infected abscess. What if his last patient turned out to be his very last patient—if he could never practice medicine again? Drew tried to ignore the nagging thought, refocusing his attention on his guest.
Waving a drumstick of chicken in the air to accent his words, Doc Henderson said, “A shame it is too. I keep telling folks, there is no wait over here.” Remembering the chicken in his hand, he took a large bite. His eyes lit with awe as he slowly chewed, overtly enjoying the savory flavor.
“I know and we appreciate your encouragement,” Drew smiled, more from Doc’s joy over the meal than from his words. He, too, enjoyed Hannah’s fried chicken.
Drew continued, “However, Hannah and I have decided to move west to the Arizona Terr
itory. There is a great need for trained doctors in the booming gold towns and we believe a fresh start would be best.”
Doc swallowed a mouth full of food before asking, “Are you certain? That is terribly dangerous territory, no place for a gentlewoman, such as your lovely Hannah.”
“Yes, our decision is final. Preparations are underway and we leave in early September.” Drew wished he felt as confident as he sounded. “Now, for the reason I asked you here this evening. I wanted to offer you the opportunity to purchase the clinic.”
“Well, I am pleased you spoke with me first. I would be interested in purchasing the clinic,” Doc paused for affect, “but not for myself.”
Drew’s confusion must have shown, because Doc continued quickly, “My nephew Darren plans to join me when he finishes medical school. He should have been here already, but he decided to stay on for a few additional classes. He plans to arrive in December. This clinic would make an excellent gift for a young doctor craving independence from his old uncle, don’t you think?”
Drew nodded his agreement, as he finished the last bite of mashed potatoes and gravy from his plate. Hannah stood and began clearing the plates from the table, still saying nothing. When she brought slices of the apple pie for each of them, Drew saw a frown flit across her features before she pasted on a rather forced smile.
“Mrs. Anderson, thank you for the excellent meal,” Doc Henderson beamed. Then turning to Drew, he added, “It is a wonder that you are able to keep so trim. I would not be so fortunate if I were married to such a marvelous cook.”
Hannah’s smile turned genuine at the compliment as Drew laughed at Doc’s teasing. “It is a miracle.”
After Doc finished off two slices of Hannah’s sweet apple pie, Drew showed him around both the clinic and living quarters. Then the two men returned to the parlor to finalize the arrangements of the sale. As Drew escorted Doc Henderson to the front door, he could scarcely believe things were falling into place.