What The Doctor Ordered

by Cheryl Wolverton

  “You’ll find a way. Stop, listen and wait upon the Lord. It’ll come to you. Right now, though—”

  The ringing of the phone stopped him. “Excuse me. The job never ends.” He smiled at Morgan and stood.

  Morgan watched him and thought, how true. Who did you call when you were in need and felt like heaven was not hearing your prayers? Most people would call the preacher. Morgan hadn’t ever thought about Ben getting calls like that. Of course, he and Ben had developed a friendship so he automatically bounced his problems off him.

  As Morgan watched him, he realized Ben often got calls late at night. This one, though, looked serious.

  “I’ll check the hospitals and police stations…”

  Morgan sat up straighter. Hospitals and police stations?

  “I feel it would be best if I did. No, he and I are friends, and I’m sorry you think it’s my influence that caused him to run away.”

  Ben turned. Anger darkened his features. “Of course, Mrs. Erickson. No, Mrs. Erickson. Well, be that as it may, I’m still going to go check. Good night, Mrs. Erickson.”

  Morgan knew that name. They were one of the families who opposed Ben being in charge of the church. Rich, lived on the outskirts of town. They held the belief that position in town and church were more important than the condition of their souls. Maybe he was wrong on that one. But they spent so much time trying to get slivers out of everyone else’s eyes, including those of people who didn’t even attend church, that they couldn’t see the log in their own—their self-righteousness.

  Ben hung up.

  “What’s up? Can you talk about it?”

  Ben nodded and grabbed his jacket off the back of a dining room chair. “Yeah, I can talk. You want to come with me? It seems Jason has run away. And his family is out for my blood for influencing him in rebellious ways.”

  “Run away? Wait a minute. They’re worried about you and what you did?”

  “Their way of coping with their fear, I’m sure. Anyway, I want to check the hospitals and police station, the church and a few of his hangouts.”

  “Of course. I’ll go with you, Ben,” Morgan said, concern coloring his voice.

  Ben paused. “Aw, I’m sorry. We were talking about Rachel. Listen, we can wait on this if you’d like to—”

  “No.” Morgan shook his head. “No. This is more important. As you said, Rachel isn’t going anywhere, for a while at least. And you’ve helped me more tonight than you have any idea, Ben. I had never gotten over my daughter. Oh, I thought I had, but seeing Rachel’s reaction tonight… Believe it or not, it was like a penance for me, finally, to hear what I never heard from my wife—her anger and rage.”

  “God doesn’t require penance, Morgan.”

  “I know. But I think, for me, I had to hear that so I could put the past to rest.”

  Ben reached out and clapped him on the shoulder. “God helped you, Morgan. Not me.”

  Morgan nodded at Ben. “Let’s go.”

  His eyes reflecting his gratefulness, Ben nodded.

  Morgan only hoped while they were out searching for Jason that Rachel had time to talk to her mom and calm down.

  Chapter Twenty

  “That was Morgan again.”

  The quiet creak of the old wooden floor was the only noise as her mother crossed to where Rachel sat at the table working on the last of the financial reports.

  “Why won’t you talk to him, honey?”

  Her mother’s voice oozed with concern and worry. It ate Rachel up to hear her mother ask that. “I just can’t, Mama. I just can’t.”

  “I think he really loves you,” Betty murmured.

  “I know,” Rachel whispered. Then her gaze went to Lindsay, who was across the room playing with a dollhouse.

  “He cares for her, too, honey.”

  “I—I—” Rachel returned her attention to the ledgers. “I wish I could be sure.”

  Betty sank into a chair next to her. “Oh, honey, he’s not Jim. Why can’t you understand that?”

  Rachel laid aside her pen and looked up. She knew her eyes reflected the lack of sleep and many tears she’d shed over the past week. She was physically and emotionally exhausted. She needed sleep. “He’s exactly like Jim, Mom. He told his wife he didn’t want a baby,” she whispered the words. “Then he told her his job came first.”

  “No, honey,” her mother said firmly. “He may have been like Jim at one time, but not now. He’s changed. And don’t forget, his wife deceived him. He was hurt. She was hurt. They didn’t deal with it well. And things happened.”

  “But why? Did he really change? Or is it only temporary, like Jim? As soon as we marry will he turn his back on Lindsay?”

  “Honey…” her mother said. Rachel saw the pain in her gaze and heard the distress in her voice.

  “I’m taking Lindsay fishing tomorrow. I need time alone, away from town. I have decisions to make.”

  Her mother studied her closely. “You’re thinking of leaving, aren’t you?”

  Rachel’s gaze slid to Lindsay.

  “You can’t run forever, Rachel. Sooner or later you have to face that bad decisions were made and that it’s okay to go on. Stop punishing yourself for what Jim did. Stop letting the pain he caused you create a wall between you and God.”

  “Mom!”

  “Well, it’s true. And you know it. God didn’t cause these problems. They happened, and you’re doing your dead-level best to block what just might be the best step of your life.”

  “Might be are the words to worry about there, Mother.”

  Betty’s eyes snapped fire. “If you’d pray and seek God, let go of it, you’d find out just how much He really loves you and that He wants to work this out for the good.”

  “What am I supposed to do, Mom? I’ve asked Him to show me, and what happens? Morgan confesses about his daughter.”

  “But he did confess,” her mother argued.

  “But that doesn’t tell me that he’d love Lindsay once we were married. I just need that proof.” Rachel bit her lip to keep from sobbing. “Oh, Mama, I just want peace again.”

  “Oh, honey,” Betty whispered. She moved around the table and sat down and took her daughter in her arms.

  Rachel sobbed. Her mother prayed. Lindsay bounced over and crawled into her mother’s lap and wrapped her arms around her.

  Rachel held her close while she tried to get herself under control. It was to no avail. She realized it was God talking to her, trying to get her to let go and turn back to Him. And slowly, as she cried a crack opened up in her heart. No longer was it her mother holding her and comforting her, but it was the soothing words of the Holy Spirit reminding her that He still hadn’t left her and was there for her. “Please show me, God,” she cried out. “I have to know. I can’t go through that again.”

  With those words she felt a release. Years of pain flowed out, pain she’d harbored against God for allowing her daughter to be born with a hearing problem, pain for her husband running off. Pain for all that had built up within her.

  It was nearly an hour later that she stopped crying. “You’re going to bed,” Betty said firmly.

  “I have work here, Mom,” Rachel said. Her head pounded. Her eyes were nearly swollen shut. She couldn’t breathe, and her throat was raw. She had never felt so miserable and so exhausted in her life. Nor had she felt so peaceful. Lindsay was asleep in her arms, which now felt like lead from holding her. But her heart was calm where God was concerned. She knew things would be okay. Still, she had to think about Morgan. She had to decide what to do. Tomorrow, alone, fishing, she’d have time to think. Betty took Lindsay, carried her to the sofa and laid her on it for a nap.

  “Your work can wait. It’s late afternoon. You should rest. You have decisions to make tomorrow and you’ll need a clear head. Now, stand up, walk down to your room and go to bed.”

  Rachel found she was too tired to argue, especially when her mother came over and slipped an arm around her, urging her u
p. “I can make it.”

  “I want to tuck my little girl in. Humor me.”

  Rachel didn’t argue. She wanted to be tucked in. She went into her room, stripped off her pants and top and found a gown. She changed, washed her face and returned to her room. Her mother waited for her.

  The covers were turned down. Rachel quietly got into bed.

  Betty tenderly tucked the covers around her, leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “You sleep. I’ll watch Lindsay and take care of dinner. That work isn’t due until Monday and can wait until Sunday afternoon. I’ll wake you up for dinner.”

  Rachel looked at her mom, her love obvious in her gaze. “Thank you, Mom.”

  “No more tears,” Betty warned when she saw tears starting. “Sleep.”

  Obediently, Rachel nodded and closed her eyes.

  Betty walked across the room and pulled the drapes. Very quietly, Rachel’s voice drifted to her. “I love you, Mom.”

  Betty stood there a moment, her heart breaking over the pain her baby girl was going through. “And I love you, sweetheart,” she replied and slipped out of the room.

  Pulling the door closed, Betty stood a minute, allowing her hurt and pain to overcome her. When Rachel had married Jim, both Betty and Rachel’s dad had been worried something wasn’t right about him. Had her father seen how Jim had really treated her, he would have had a heart attack. Instead, a stroke took him before that could happen.

  Betty was a go-getter. She didn’t believe in sitting around in defeat. But losing her husband had almost devastated her. Had it not been for the people of the church and her job, she wasn’t sure she could have made it. The best years of her life had been with her husband.

  True, she had found a life after her husband. But now she’d met Warren and had a chance at a new and different job. Warren was… Warren. He wasn’t like her husband. He was just Warren. And she loved him.

  And she wanted Rachel to have that love, too. Just as she’d wanted Pastor Ben and Julianne to get together, but rumor had it they’d decided to only be friends. Kids nowadays. They just couldn’t do it by themselves. If she left it to her stubborn daughter and that moping doctor who refused just to come over here and drag Rachel to the altar, then neither one of them would fix their problems. Now that Rachel’s heart was right with God, things could proceed.

  Betty grinned. She had the perfect way to get them together. And it wasn’t going to be after Rachel decided to leave Fairweather. She quietly went downstairs to the kitchen and dialed the phone.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Twenty-two to fourteen.”

  Morgan leaned down and dropped his hands to his knees. He was soaked with sweat and breathing heavily. “You were right, basketball is a good way to think out problems.”

  Ben chuckled. “And you thought I only played it as goodwill for kids.” Tossing the ball, he made another basket.

  “Hey, that one doesn’t count.”

  Ben chuckled, caught the ball and jogged to Morgan. “So, what have you decided about Rachel?”

  Morgan stared at him, then scowled, took the ball and bounced it before tossing it at the hoop—and missing.

  “You know, when you avoid that question you always miss,” Ben observed.

  “You’re too observant,” Morgan muttered, and lobbed the ball at him.

  Ben caught it with a grunt. “You said you rarely play basketball,” he murmured.

  “It’s the question that gives me the aim,” Morgan retorted.

  Ben laughed and bounced it, tossed it and made another basket.

  Morgan caught the rebound and moved. Looking at Ben, he finally sighed. “I’ve tried all week to get in contact with her. She won’t take calls. She doesn’t leave her house, according to Betty. What am I going to do, barge in and demand to see her?”

  “Well, now, that’s not exactly right,” Ben said, and motioned at him. “Throw it.”

  “Such technical terms,” Morgan said dryly, and bounced it.

  Just as he aimed and started to toss the ball, Ben said, “Rachel isn’t home right now.”

  The ball soared off target, hitting the edge of the backboard and flying.

  Ben shot over and caught it.

  Morgan groaned. “Funny, Reverend. Really funny.”

  Instead of shooting, Ben slipped the ball under his arm and walked forward. “I’m not kidding. Betty told me last night that Rachel was going fishing with Lindsay today. And Betty also told me she hasn’t given the medical report about Lindsay to Rachel yet. She said, if I remember her words correctly, ‘You are the doctor and Lindsay is her granddaughter and you should be giving the report to the mother, not the grandmother.’”

  Morgan stared, stunned. “She hasn’t told her the findings yet?”

  Slowly Ben shook his head. “I think, from what she hinted, she wanted you to go out to the fishing pond and deliver the news yourself.”

  “Which pond?” Morgan demanded.

  Ben shrugged. “Betty didn’t say. She did say that Rachel was sentimental, though.”

  Morgan hesitated, then smiled. “Thanks, Ben.” He punched the ball, knocking it out of Ben’s hands. With a quick dribble, he lobbed it and made a basket. “I’ll have to play this game with you more often,” he murmured. “Gotta go now, though.”

  He grabbed his T-shirt, slipped it on and headed toward his car.

  Ben grinned, thinking Betty had been right. All Morgan needed was the chance to see Rachel alone, and those medical records would provide the excuse. With an innocent whistle, Ben tossed the ball. “Basket,” he murmured, and a slow smile turned up the corners of his mouth.

  Morgan didn’t take time to go home and shower and change. He drove straight to the pond he’d taken Rachel and Lindsay to weeks ago. Sentimental. Morgan was certain that meant Rachel was thinking of him, of what had happened and maybe, just maybe, if she was here, then that meant she was thinking of the good times they’d shared. And with the good news and bad news he had, at least that would give him a reason to be there.

  He turned onto the rutted road, and bumped along until he came to a clearing.

  She had heard him coming.

  She was facing the road, staring. And there was Lindsay, playing in an ice chest. She must have caught another fish. Morgan smiled softly. His heart expanded. He loved them. He wasn’t going to leave here until he convinced Rachel of that. “Okay, Father. Here we go. It’s in Your court. Help me convince Rachel that I love her and I’m not going to leave Lindsay, no matter what.”

  He pulled to a stop, put the parking break on and shoved open the door, leaving the keys in the car. Then he stood and rested his arms on the door. “Hello, Rachel.”

  “Hello, Morgan.”

  She stood four feet away from her daughter, staring at him.

  She was a sight for sore eyes. “You look like death warmed over,” he murmured.

  “You don’t look any better,” she said defensively.

  “Fissee!” Lindsay said, and came running.

  Rachel started to prevent her daughter then shot him a frantic look.

  “I’m not going to hurt her, Rachel.”

  He followed Lindsay over to look at the fish and ooh and ah over it before turning back to Rachel.

  She had moved to the tree and was packing up the lunch basket. Morgan went over to her. “We have to talk.”

  “I don’t want to talk,” she whispered, her gaze down, refusing to look at him.

  “I know, honey. And if it wasn’t so important, I’d let it go. But I love you, and I love that little girl over there. I’ve been patient for a week. After all, I dropped one of the worst bombshells possible on you at the worst possible time. So I owed you that much. But I just can’t let you go.”

  Rachel looked up. The torment in her eyes tore at his heart. “I don’t have any choice. I have to let you go.”

  “Why, Rachel?” he asked calmly. Strangely, he was at peace as he spoke with her. He wanted her to be honest, tell him wha
t was the matter so maybe he could help her. Help Lindsay.

  “I…”

  When she hesitated, he pressured her gently. “You love me. You said you did.” He took her hand. “Don’t you, Rachel?”

  “You know I do,” she whispered, and her voice broke. “I didn’t think I’d ever love anyone again. But I do. I fell without even realizing it until it was too late. But…”

  “But what?” He encouraged her, knowing exactly what but wanting her to say it.

  “But I just can’t, not after the way Jim used me, tricked me. My judgment isn’t the best in the world. I can’t risk marrying you and you coming to regret Lindsay or wanting to send her off.”

  “I don’t want that, Rachel. Not at all.”

  He meant it. He saw the struggle in her eyes, her need to believe. But she couldn’t accept it. “Why do you love her? Is she a replacement for your daughter? Is that it?”

  Morgan nodded. “Maybe at first she was. Maybe that’s why I decided to be a pediatrician after my daughter’s death. Maybe I have been trying to pay for what I did through each patient. But not Lindsay. At least not now. She reached inside and wrapped herself around my heart.”

  “I—oh, Morgan, I wish I could believe that. I just—at the first sign of trouble…”

  When she didn’t go on, he changed the subject. “I have the reports back on Lindsay.”

  “You do?”

  He saw the banked hope. He hated to disappoint her. “Her hearing disability isn’t reversible, honey. I’m sorry.”

  Her shoulders sagged.

  “However,” he added, “the tests show her hearing range and just what she’s hearing. And Rachel, I think, with some special hearing aids, that Lindsay’s hearing could probably improve fifty percent. Which would mean she would be able to hear and understand and probably with speech therapy talk normally.”

  Rachel stared. “The other doctor never suggested hearing aids.”

  “He was a fool.”

  Rachel hesitated and nibbled her lip. “I…that’s wonderful. But, Morgan—”