What The Doctor Ordered

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What The Doctor Ordered Page 2

by Cheryl Wolverton


  “No, no. It was Rachel’s mother who called in reference to the roofing project you wanted to know about. And Miss Patterson, she wanted to talk to you about sponsoring.” The woman frowned as she tried to remember. “Oh, yes. She wanted to talk with you about sponsoring a booth at the celebration they’ll be having, the spring festival. You know, I was crowned Strawberry Queen at that festival years ago.” She gleamed with pride as she nodded to Morgan.

  “I’d heard that, ma’am,” Morgan replied, smiling. Actually, he’d heard it several times from Emma. It was something she was very proud of, and every time the spring festival came up, she mentioned it. “Quite an event,” he added.

  She giggled.

  Taking the messages from Emma, Ben paused to pat her hand. “Thank you, dear. Can you close the door on the way out?”

  “I surely will, Reverend Ben.” She turned and bustled out the door, her mission thwarted temporarily but, knowing Emma, not deserted.

  When the door finally clicked closed, Morgan chuckled. “Looks like you may be fighting off a matchmaking scheme there, Ben.”

  Ben groaned and shook his head. “Emma’s a good woman. She certainly cares about everyone. But I draw the line at allowing her to pick my wife.” Smiling, he shook his head again.

  Morgan chuckled again.

  Ben’s blue eyes gleamed with amusement as he said, “You don’t have much room to laugh, Morgan. She’s tried to match you up with every single woman within a three-county area.”

  “Yeah, but she’s turned that attention on you now. Looks like she’s given me up as a lost cause—at least temporarily.” Morgan’s smile faded. “So, how are the problems going?”

  Ben shook his head and laid the messages aside. “Still getting a lot of opposition from many in the church. I’m too young to handle this job, according to some. Others think the former Reverend shouldn’t have retired and let someone with my lack of experience slip into the job. In time, though, I’m sure, with God’s help, things will change.”

  “Good.” Morgan shifted in his chair and crossed his legs. In khaki pants and a deep blue polo shirt, he felt as if he were missing something. Normally, he wore a lab coat and stethoscope, too. He’d been at lunch when he’d gotten paged to come over because the day care was certain Jeremy had pinkeye. “By the way, that’s not pinkeye,” he said to Ben. “It seems Chrissy didn’t like what Jeremy said and punched him in the eye while the teacher’s back was turned. But Jeremy heard the teacher say pinkeye and was certain his eye was going to turn pink and fall out.”

  “Oh, really?” Ben grinned, the lines around his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Well, I’m sure he’ll think a miracle occurred when his eye clears.”

  “And his mom will be glad to know the sniffles aren’t going to turn into anything more. So, what’d you want to talk to me about?”

  Ben grinned. “I’d wanted to talk business, but first, I want to find out who you’ve been dating while my back was turned.”

  Morgan glanced at Ben’s desk, cluttered with books and notes, the books obviously from the many bookcases around the office. The church was an old building, with original wood paneling and floors. Beautiful, in a way. Morgan really liked it, and liked his pastor, too. He’d become a friend over the last few months through the church-run day care. He wondered how he was going to explain to Ben what he’d meant earlier. Oh, well, he thought. I made the statement, might as well explain it. “Her name is Rachel and she has a daughter…”

  “Lindsay,” Ben finished. “Yes. I’ve seen her picking Lindsay up, and of course, know her mother, Betty. I didn’t know you knew her, though. Or is it that Betty introduced you two?”

  Morgan grinned. “No, Betty has no idea I’ve met her daughter yet. And I don’t know Rachel yet, either.”

  “I see,” Ben replied, though it was perfectly obvious he didn’t see at all.

  “I met her a few minutes ago,” Morgan added, not offering more than a simple blink of his eyes in reaction to the total confusion written on Ben’s face.

  “Ah.” Ben chuckled, his face clearing suddenly. Morgan knew Ben thought he was kidding. Let him think that—until he finally asked Ben to perform the ceremony. He couldn’t explain it himself, but when he’d seen Rachel his entire world had tilted on its axis. A strong voice inside had spoken to him, saying, She’s the one. Morgan had no problem agreeing. She was beautiful, but there was something more about her, something he couldn’t explain. He simply knew she was the woman who belonged at his side, and he was going to marry her.

  He was rather stunned himself, in some ways. He wasn’t one to make rash decisions. Actually, he was usually very controlled and careful. Nevertheless, he knew, he knew she was the one.

  And Lindsay.

  The child only confirmed what he knew. She was for him. Lindsay was for him. A second chance…

  “Well, since you brought Rachel up…” Ben broke into the silence, his laughter gone as he drew Morgan to the subject at hand. “Betty called while you were checking on Jeremy. She was looking for you.”

  “Really?” Betty Anderson, the director of the day-care center, was also Rachel’s mom. “What does she want to see me about?”

  “I don’t know. I told her I’d snag you before you left. Let me tell her you’re here.” He picked up the phone and rang the day-care office. When he hung up, he smiled at Morgan. “She’s on her way now.”

  “No measles going around, at least, not that I know of. Maybe she wants me to set up the annual lice check, or…” Morgan trailed off, curious.

  “I’m sure it’s something like that. You know Betty. She’s an exceptional woman, good head on her shoulders. She certainly keeps that day care in line.”

  Morgan nodded. “That she does. And knowing her, she’ll waste no time getting here and coming to the point.” Morgan liked that about Betty.

  As if on cue, they heard Emma in the other room, offering a strawberry-filled cookie to someone and talking about seeing her daughter. “Sounds like Betty is here,” Morgan said.

  Ben stood and moved around his desk. “I’ll give you some privacy.” He laid a gentle hand on Morgan’s shoulder as he passed. Morgan heard the door click and the warm tones of Ben’s voice float to him from the secretary’s office. “Hello, Betty. Morgan is in my office. Go on in. In the meantime, I think I’m going to steal one of Emma’s cookies.”

  “Thank you, Reverend.” Betty’s contralto voice could be heard. A breeze swept in as the door swung wider, and then Betty walked in the office.

  Betty pushed the door closed and stood there, her reddish brown hair hanging straight to her chin. In her fifties, she still had a nice figure. Her no-nonsense clothes showed she’d evidently been doing something physical downstairs at the center. Her flannel shirtsleeves were rolled to her elbows, and her purple jogging pants had dust and debris on them.

  The look in her eye indicated that something was definitely on her mind. As a doctor, Morgan had learned to recognize the signs and do much what a pastor did, which was simply to listen. “Hello, Betty, how can I help you?”

  He stood and put his hands to the back of a chair, offering Betty a seat.

  “Thanks, Morgan.” Betty strode across the room and seated herself. “Sit down. I need to talk to you.” Betty sat on the edge of her seat and leaned forward, facing Morgan as he re-seated himself. Concern furrowed her brow, and her hands clasped around her knees. Morgan had never seen this side of Betty before.

  “Now, you know I’m not one to usually interfere in my children’s lives. Neither Ray nor I were, bless his soul. When I lost him five years ago… Well, let’s just say I’m not sure where I would be now without my kids’ support. But my daughter Rachel…”

  Morgan was more than a little interested when Betty hesitated. “I met her today,” he offered, hoping to put her at ease.

  “Oh?” She studied him. Her gaze was so direct that he had the distinct feeling she was looking right into his soul.

  “Yes, ma’am.


  “Have you met Lindsay?”

  “Yes. Well, actually, I’ve only seen her. I haven’t had time to talk with her, if that’s what you mean.”

  “She’s almost completely deaf,” Betty said bluntly. “And I think my daughter is so steeped in bitterness over her husband leaving her and then dying on her that she can’t see past that. He left her because of Lindsay, saying he couldn’t handle a damaged child, you know.”

  “Ah,” Morgan said, not having known that at all. So that was why Rachel had acted so prickly. She didn’t trust men. Morgan couldn’t blame her if what Betty had just told him was true. Most of the mothers he knew were very protective of their children and very vulnerable, too. “I’m sure Rachel will work through it and fall in love again.”

  Betty blinked. “Oh, Rachel? Oh, no, Morgan, I wanted to talk to you about my granddaughter. I was just filling you in on Rachel so you’d know where I was coming from. You see, she’s very protective of Lindsay. I think Rachel’s husband killed something in her when he rejected their daughter. Rachel went to a doctor, but the brainless fool suggested she put her child in an institution since her husband had left her. He was not a good man. Why she went to a doctor her husband suggested, I’ll never know. The doctor told Rachel it was a degenerative disease and that Lindsay should be put in an institution where she’d get more stable care than a working mother could give her. Told her that way she’d have someone who knew how to deal with deaf children.”

  Shocked, Morgan stared at Betty. He could see the anger as Betty’s mouth tightened in disgust. He found it hard not to feel a bit disgusted himself. Of course, sometimes family didn’t know the whole story. “Do you know what type of tests they did on Lindsay? What brought the doctor to this conclusion?”

  “Other than the fact that the doctor was a real close friend of Lindsay’s former husband and ran in the same circles he did?” Betty shook her head. “I’m sorry, Morgan. This subject really gets to me.”

  Morgan could see that. “What would you like me to do? I could make an appointment for Lindsay and talk to Rachel—”

  “Oh, no. That won’t work.” Betty sat back in her chair, resting her elbows on the arms. “Rachel has sworn off doctors for her child. She refuses to allow any of them to examine Lindsay anymore. I think, Morgan, she’s afraid that they’ll try to take her child away from her, or call her a bad mother again, or even give her hope where there is none. She worked hard to find someone to see Lindsay, to prove to her husband her child wasn’t damaged. None of it did a bit of good. He left her anyway.”

  Morgan nodded, definitely feeling anger stir in him, anger and painful loss. “I haven’t seen Rachel in church,” Morgan said softly to Betty.

  Hurt flashed in Betty’s eyes. “She wants nothing to do with God. She’s hurting, possibly even blaming God that she had a child that broke up her marriage. I’ve heard her say a couple of times she doesn’t think God takes a real interest in her life.”

  Frowning, Morgan nodded. He’d been through that at one time. He was still going through it in some ways. But he had not turned his back on God. He struggled a lot with believing God had forgiven him for past sins. When someone was hurting, it was the same principle. They looked back at the pain and had trouble letting go. So he could understand where Rachel might still be hurting and hadn’t let go.

  “Well, then, if it’s not an appointment you want, what is it you need?”

  Betty smiled. “I have a plan….”

  Seeing that smile, Morgan wondered if he had just stepped off a cliff and was heading toward imminent disaster on the rocky beach below.

  Chapter Three

  “Why wasn’t he at supper last week if this is such a regular event?”

  Rachel rushed around, picking up clothes, shoes and toys that Lindsay had dragged out. She was unable to believe what her mother was telling her.

  “Because, Rachel,” Betty said, pulling a chicken out of the oven and setting it on the stove, “you were moving in and things were hectic. I often have members of the church over here to eat two or three times a week. However, I didn’t want to invite anyone until you had gotten your things moved in. In addition, he’s single. I feel responsible for him. He needs a good home-cooked meal every once in a while.”

  “He?” Rachel asked, tossing the miscellaneous articles into her bedroom and pulling the door shut. “And why do you feel responsible? Does he have a kid in your day care?”

  Rachel knew her mom loved to mother everyone. All the kids at the day care she thought of as hers. If there was a single father who was having a rough time of it, she wouldn’t be the least bit surprised to find out her mother had adopted him and was having him over for dinner all the time. Rachel’s mind drifted to the appealing man she’d met earlier that day.

  “No. He’s a big help there, though.”

  Scratch that one. Rachel wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed. Dropping to her knees, she started gathering blocks from the round wool carpet that covered the floor. That was all they needed—someone to come in and break their neck on a block.

  “Maa uh!” Lindsay came running into the room and launched herself onto Rachel’s back.

  “Umph.” Rachel, precariously balanced, went down, blocks going everywhere.

  Lindsay gurgled and crawled onto her mom, bouncing. “Pae-ee. Pae-ee.”

  She waved her hands, motioning.

  “Not now,” Rachel signed. “Cleaning.”

  “Pae-ee.”

  Rachel started to shake her head and say no again, but saw the look of laughter in her daughter’s eyes. How often had she had time to play with her daughter in the last month? She’d had to put their house up for sale in the twin cities, get things packed up, move, find a job here. She’d tried to be there for her daughter, but tonight, she’d been longer than she’d planned and then had had to run errands for her mother. She had taken a long shower only to come down to find out they were having company.

  Company.

  She just didn’t have the time….

  “Go on, take a quick break. You have time, honey,” her mother called from the kitchen.

  They did have twenty more minutes, she thought.

  Lindsay bounced on her.

  Rachel oofed for her daughter.

  Lindsay squealed, delighted.

  Rachel gave in. Just a minute wouldn’t matter. “Mommies tickle for that.” She signed as she said it.

  Lindsay squealed again and promptly bounced once more.

  “Mommies gobble, too.” Rachel followed this with actions as she grabbed her daughter and pulled her up, searching for her tummy under her shirt before blowing raspberries.

  Lindsay shrieked and laughed. “Mo! Mo!”

  “You want more, do you, you little munchkin?” she said, bouncing Lindsay on her tummy. “Okay, here it comes.” She lifted her hand and started twisting it around, making a buzzing noise.

  Lindsay’s hand went to her mother’s mouth to feel the sensations.

  Rachel twisted her finger again. “Zzzzzzz…here it comes. Zzzzz…”

  Giggling, Lindsay wiggled, but Rachel wouldn’t release her. “I got you now, bubble baby,” she teased and then dived in, grabbing Lindsay’s tummy and tickling. Lindsay glowed as she laughed and slapped at her mommy’s hands. In fact, she was so loud Rachel didn’t hear the doorbell. All she saw was her mother pass by.

  It was Lindsay who alerted her to the new comer. Her eyes lost the gleam and focused toward the door. “Maaamuuu.” She pointed at her grandmother.

  Tilting her head to look at her mother and see what she wanted, Rachel realized it wasn’t MaMu her daughter was pointing at. Lindsay was telling her that someone else was here.

  And of course, it would be the one person she hadn’t been expecting, the very person who set her heart rushing at dangerous speeds. Tall, dark and handsome stood with Betty by the door, smiling indulgently at her and Lindsay.

  Chapter Four

  “Good evening.


  Morgan stared at her, with Lindsay sitting on her, and couldn’t hide his smile. Rachel was beautiful. Flushed, her hair a mess, love glowing in her eyes for her daughter. Morgan didn’t think he’d ever seen a more perfect picture of motherhood.

  “Uh…”

  And she was embarrassed, he realized.

  Sitting up, she lifted Lindsay with her. “Wash. Dinner,” she said to her daughter, and Morgan was surprised to see how easily she used American Sign Language right along with her words. In all his years of practice, he’d had a few deaf children. Few mothers bothered to learn how to communicate with their deaf children, other than to point.

  Lindsay cast another glance at Morgan and sprinted toward the bathroom.

  Rachel stood and smoothed her charcoal trousers. The thin blue sweater she wore had just a hint of gray to bring out the blue in her eyes. He didn’t feel overdressed in his gray pants and sweater. He’d debated long and hard what to wear and had finally given up and pulled this outfit out of the closet. Morgan couldn’t remember a time he’d been worried about how he looked for a woman.

  Rachel was different.

  “Hello again.”

  She glanced around him curiously, and he wondered what she was looking for. “Where’s your child?”

  The question hit him in the gut. How could she know…

  “Jeremy?”

  “Oh.” Morgan relaxed. Offering a generous smile, he said, “Jeremy wasn’t mine.”

  She quirked her brow in query, but Lindsay chose that moment to come running into the room. “Unre, maauu.”

  “Time for dinner,” she said and lifted her daughter into her arms.

  “I had no idea Betty was your mother when I met you today.” He quirked his lips apologetically.

  Rachel returned the smile with a halfhearted nod. “Well, she is. And we’re living with her for a while.”

  She tilted her head toward her daughter, and her hair fell, covering her face. Long delicate fingers came up and absently pushed it behind her ear. “Aren’t we, Lindsay?” she singsonged softly as she started to the table. “Please, come in and have a seat. Make yourself at home. Mom tells me you’re over here quite a bit.”

 

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