by Linda Ford
Conner nodded. “I think we’ll be keeping God busy for a few days.” But hadn’t he learned how sufficient God was in the painful days after Thelma had left? His family had gathered round him and helped him as much as they could and for that he owed them his faithfulness. They’d help him with the care of this little scrap of humanity as well. Just as soon as they got back. In the meantime, he and Grandfather were all she had.
How long would they need to provide for Ellie? What was going on with Thelma?
*
Kate had barely finished making a pot of coffee for her father the next morning when someone clattered into the waiting room and hollered, “Doc, are you there?”
She was used to the doctor being called away any time of the day or night, so she quickly filled a cup of coffee for her father. “Eat something while I go see what it is.” She’d delay the caller long enough to allow Father to have breakfast. A few minutes to eat leisurely would go a long way to preventing any problems with his memory.
She went into the waiting room. A man she recognized from the community stood before her.
“My mother fell getting out of bed this morning and is hurting. Could the doctor come and see her?” His mother was a frail elderly woman.
Father appeared behind her. “I’ll go immediately.” He reached for his black doctor’s bag.
“I’ll go with you.” Kate untied her apron and hung it on a hook.
She had barely finished speaking when one of the young cowboys she recognized from the Marshall ranch burst through the door.
The cowboy grabbed the hat off his head. “Miss Kate, Conner says would you please come immediately? The baby isn’t eating. He says she’s really weak.”
Kate’s hands clenched. She’d hoped and prayed for a better report. She wanted nothing more than to hurry to the baby’s side and will her to be strong, but her father was needed elsewhere. She had accompanied him on almost every call since their arrival. Often she had guided him through a task or reminded him of a medical fact as he struggled to regain full use of his memory. Lately, she’d needed to help less and less, but she wasn’t yet confident he was completely better. But she couldn’t be in two places.
Father saw her concern. “I’ll be okay on my own. You go take care of that baby, nurse it back to health and strength.”
She hesitated a moment longer before making up her mind. By the sound of it, the baby required medical care. Kate would give her that and more. She’d pour love into that little girl until she grew strong. Only for the sake of her health, of course. She knew better than to let her emotions get involved.
“Let me get a few things.” The supplies she needed were in the office, but she turned back to their living quarters and slipped into her bedroom, where she sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over, her face to her knees. She needed to be calm and collected. She needed wisdom to guide them through dealing with the weak baby.
Oh, God, You are my friend and my strength. The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?
Her soul calmed and her courage renewed, she joined the cowboy and hurried toward the buggy.
As she settled herself on the bench, she glanced around. To her left was the newly constructed schoolhouse. To her right, the new barbershop. Past that were other new buildings taking shape, replacing those that had been destroyed in a fire a few months ago.
Bella Creek, Montana, was a town Grandfather Marshall had built to provide an alternative to the wild mining town of Wolf Hollow. He took the welfare of the town very seriously and was largely responsible, with the help of his sons and grandsons, for the rebuilding after the fire of last winter. The Marshalls had located a doctor and teacher as well, to replace the ones who left following the disaster.
She would miss the small town when she left. She’d already been accepted at a medical school in St. Louis, Missouri, but had delayed her entrance to care for Father.
They reached the ranch and the cowboy helped her down. Kate hurried through to the sitting room. One look at the baby, her eyes unfocused, her breathing shallow, and Kate’s mind kicked into a gallop.
“You should have sent for help earlier.”
“I kept thinking she would improve.” Conner scrubbed his hand over his hair, turning it into a blond tangle and bringing a fleeting smile to Kate’s mouth.
She lifted the baby, cradling her close. Normally a baby was warm. This one was not. “Did she drink any milk at all?”
“She wouldn’t swallow. Most of the time she won’t even meet my eyes. What’s wrong with her?”
Kate knew his frustration came from concern for the life of this little one. There was no point in her saying anything to allay his worries. If the baby didn’t begin to eat… She couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought and instead closed her eyes and breathed a prayer. The baby needed fluids immediately. Did her body even have the strength to digest milk? There was an alternative.
“I’ll start her on sugar water.”
Wanting to preserve what body heat the little one had, she swaddled her in the soft, white blanket from the basket, then handed her to Conner. “Hold her close. She needs to be warm.”
Conner pressed the baby to his chest. Kate plucked the hand-knit blanket from the back of the brown couch and draped it over his arms, covering the baby until only her eyes showed—eyes that showed no interest in life. Kate met Conner’s gaze, saw her concern echoed. Something shifted inside her, knowing they were united in caring for this baby.
She jerked her gaze away. She must not cross the line between a patient and a doctor’s assistant. And that included the patient’s family. Don’t let your emotions get involved. You do what you can and leave the family to pull together.
She hurried to the kitchen to prepare the water mixture for the baby. A few minutes later, she had everything ready and returned to the sitting room.
Conner shifted to make room for her at his side on the couch.
She eased the tip of the syringe into the little mouth and squeezed out a drop, then massaged the thin neck. “Come on, Ellie, swallow.” A sigh escaped her when the baby did so. “Thank you,” she whispered.
She met Conner’s look, found there a sense of accord in shared concern for this wee bit of struggling humanity. It warmed her cheeks and heart to feel united with him in this.
Turning her attention back to the baby, she squeezed out another drop and then another. After a few swallows, little Ellie refused any more no matter how much Kate rubbed her face and neck and begged her to take more.
With no desire to drown the wee thing, Kate withdrew the syringe. “I’ll feed her every few minutes.”
Conner’s blue eyes filled with worry.
She patted his arm. “We aren’t solely responsible for the outcome here. God has a bigger part in healing than any mere man can play.” She needed the reminder for herself as much as for Conner. She was often frustrated by the limitations of medical science.
He nodded and she again felt as if they shared equal concern and responsibility for providing what this baby needed. He bent his head over his daughter and whispered her name.
She wondered if Conner watched the rise and fall of the tiny chest as desperately as she did.
In a bit, Ellie made a mewling sound.
“Hand me that whatever it’s called and I’ll see if Ellie will drink some more. I’m no doctor, but I know she needs something in her stomach if she’s to survive.”
Kate gave him the syringe of sugar water. He eased the tip between Ellie’s lips and squeezed out a shot.
Ellie choked. Her face grew red.
Conner’s face blanched. “What do I do?”
Rather than explain it to the distraught man, Kate took Ellie, turned her over and patted her back. She bent over the baby, watching her face. “Come on, little one, take a breath.”
The baby calmed.
Kate’s heart took slightly longer to return to a n
ormal pace.
She turned Ellie about to look in her face. “You gave us quite a scare.” Solemn eyes focused on her for a brief moment before losing interest.
Conner let out a long sigh. “I almost killed her.” His voice shook. His gaze met hers. She couldn’t say if it was gratitude or caution she saw in his eyes or something else entirely. Nor could she explain why the look made her ache inside.
She struggled to adjust her thinking about this man. She’d always thought him noble and honorable. To learn he had fathered a child left her wondering what sort of man he really was.
She placed the baby back in his arms and looked at the syringe. “Just a little at a time.”
Conner studied her for a moment, then turned to the baby. “Swallow for me, little Ellie. Please don’t choke.”
Water dribbled from the baby’s mouth.
Conner watched the baby for a moment, then lifted his gaze to Kate’s. “I can’t do this by myself. Will you stay and help?”
How could she stay? Father needed her.
“Please?” Conner’s eyes filled with kindness and something she wasn’t able to identify. Was it determination or regret? Fear or warning?
She brought her attention back to the baby. She had to do what she could to ensure little Ellie lived. A baby’s life hung in the balance.
“I’ll stay until she’s doing better.” Father would have to get along without her for a few hours. After that? Conner would need to find someone to tend his baby, but he had lots of people to choose from—his sister and his sisters-in-law.
Conner smiled. “Thank you. This baby needs a family, but right now she needs more. She needs what you can give her.”
Family. The word caught at her heart. Why did it trouble her? She could think of no reason and dismissed the thought. It wasn’t like she longed for something more. Medical care was what she offered. It was the focus of her life.
She’d once thought things might be different. As an eager seventeen-year-old, she’d loved the attention given to her by Edward Sabin over a six-month period. Her eyes full of starry dreams, she’d told him of her plan to become a doctor. He’d said she would have to choose between him and her dreams because he didn’t intend to share her with every Tom, Dick and Harry, or even every Mary, Alice and Harriet.
She’d said it wasn’t that easy and told him of her promise to Grammie. Grammie, who had raised her since her birth parents died when Kate was four until her own death six years later, said she had the gift of healing and made her promise not to waste the gift. Besides, she liked taking care of people.
Edward had stopped calling, but he’d made her acknowledge the impossibility of trying to be both a doctor and a wife and mother. Her own childhood after the Bakers had adopted her provided further proof. How many times had her sleep been interrupted as she was taken next door so her parents could attend some medical need? How often had she missed a social event for the same reason? But in exchange, she’d learned much about caring for others.
Kate went to the kitchen. Grandfather sat outside on the veranda, rocking in the sun and watching the activities in the yard. She glimpsed one of the cowhands riding by the garden.
It was all so ordinary and peaceful. Unlike her own home, where every ordinary moment ended with a call for the doctor’s services, where there was often a flurry of activity as they faced a medical crisis. It was just her father and her now. Mother had died eight years ago when Kate was fourteen.
Kate was a willing, eager participant in dealing with the frequent illnesses, accidents and childbirths, but as she waited for the water to boil, she leaned on the windowsill, taking in the calm scene.
The kettle steamed and the moment passed. She prepared Ellie’s feeding and returned to the sitting room and drew to a halt at the sight before her. Conner leaned back on the couch, his mouth open as he snored softly. The poor man must have been up most of the night. Ellie slept peacefully on his chest. A beautiful picture of fatherly love and care.
It triggered an ache hidden deep within her heart. One she must deny.
This man had a daughter and thus belonged to another woman. Not that it mattered to her. She had plans that would take her away from here. But for today, she would enjoy the feeling of warmth that being with the Marshall family gave. She would enjoy caring for a baby who needed her.
Surely it was possible to do so without struggling with secret longings.
Wasn’t it?
Chapter Two
Conner snorted at the sound of someone clearing a throat, opened his eyes and looked up at Kate.
“I think I fell asleep.” He bent his head to check on Ellie. She slept. Her cheekbones pushed against her skin. Such a frail baby. His resolve tightened his chest. She needed him. He would do everything possible for her.
“It’s time to feed her again.” Kate leaned over him and gently shook Ellie to waken her. The baby’s eyelids came up slowly. Her pupils remained unfocused. She stared past Kate as if unaware of her.
He shifted the baby so Kate could feed her. But Ellie’s mouth hung slack and the liquid ran down her neck.
Kate’s face filled with purpose. “Did anything you tried last night get her attention?”
“She seemed to like to hear me sing.” Heat swept over his chest at how foolish he felt admitting it.
“Well, then, I suggest you sing to her.”
“No one but Ellie listened last night.” He could barely squeak the words out as embarrassment clogged his throat.
She chuckled. “I’ll assume she is a good judge of your singing ability. Now sing.”
“Can’t. My throat’s too dry.”
“I can fix that.” She hurried to the kitchen and returned with a glass of cold water. “Drink.”
Seemed she wasn’t prepared to accept any excuses from him. “You’re bossy. Did you know that?” It was his turn to chuckle as pink blossomed in her cheeks.
She gave a little toss of her head. “I’m simply speaking with authority. You did ask me to stay and help. I assumed you wanted my medical assistance.”
No mistaking the challenge in her voice.
“Your medical assistance, yes, of course.” He humbled his voice and did his best to look contrite.
“You sing to her and I’ll try to get more sugar water into her.”
He cleared his throat. “Sleep, my love, and peace attend thee. All through the night; Guardian angels God will lend thee, All through the night.” The first few notes caught in his throat and then he focused his eyes on Ellie at the words of the familiar lullaby.
Ellie blinked and brought her gaze to him.
“Excellent,” Kate whispered and leaned over Conner’s arm to ease the syringe between Ellie’s lips. The baby swallowed three times and then her eyes closed.
“Sleep is good, too,” Kate murmured, leaning back. “I think she likes your voice.”
He couldn’t stop himself from meeting Kate’s eyes. Warmth filled them and he allowed himself a little glow of victory. “Thelma hated my singing.” He hadn’t meant to say that. Certainly not aloud.
Kate’s eyes cooled considerably. “You’re referring to Ellie’s mother?”
“That’s right.” No need to say more.
“Do you mind me asking where she is?”
“’Fraid I can’t answer that.”
She waited.
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her in over a year.”
“I see.”
Only, it was obvious she didn’t. But he wasn’t going to explain. Not until he figured out what Thelma was up to.
Kate pushed to her feet.
The side where she’d been sitting next to him on the couch grew instantly cold.
“How long before we wake her to feed her again?”
“Fifteen minutes. You hold her and rest. I don’t suppose you got much sleep last night.”
There she was, being bossy and authoritative again. Not that he truly minded. It was nice to know someone cared how tired he w
as and also knew how to deal with Ellie.
The fifteen minutes passed quickly and Kate wakened the baby.
“She’s weaker.” His voice cracked. “Wasn’t she supposed to be getting better by now?”
“It’s a fine balance between getting fluid into her and not overtaxing her strength.” She tried to get the baby to swallow, but her head lolled and her eyes had a distant unfocused look to them.
“Sing to her again,” Kate said. “It makes her more responsive.”
“I find it hard to believe you don’t beg me not to, but if it helps Ellie, I’ll do it.” He again sang the words of the lullaby.
The baby turned her eyes toward Conner. Kate leaned close to feed her some sugar water. Ellie swallowed without urging.
“My grandmother used to sing that to me,” Kate said.
Conner stopped. “I remember my ma singing it to Annie and then Mattie. I expect she sang it to me, but I don’t remember.” He thought of the number of times he’d heard her crooning to his little sister and his niece. Memories of his ma and her steadfast love almost choked him.
“I don’t recall my mother singing to me either, but then I was young when she passed away.”
The baby stopped swallowing as soon as Conner stopped singing. Kate pointed it out to him and he turned back to Ellie and sang again the same lullaby. Only, he added his own words to the tune. “Didn’t I hear that your mother died when you were fourteen? Did I misunderstand?” he asked Kate in a singsongy voice. He was curious about this woman and wanted to know more about her.
*
She didn’t normally talk to patients or their parents about herself, but she rather found she wanted to tell him about her parents.
“My birth parents died from a fever when I was four. I went to live with my Grammie, but she wasn’t well. Dr. and Mrs. Baker cared for her until she died when I was ten. She asked them to adopt me and they did. Grammie said I had a gift for healing and helping and wanted the Bakers to help me follow that path.” Why had she said that? He surely wasn’t interested in why she’d chosen this goal. “Mother died four years later. It’s just been me and Father since.”