Love's unfolding dream (Love Comes Softly Series #6) Read online

Luke tweaked the soft cheek, then kissed his sister's forehead. "Then you'd best get some sleep," he said. "Being a nurse is awfully hard work. You'll need your rest."

  Belinda held him close for a minute.

  "Thank you, Luke," she whispered.

  "Sure," he responded and kissed her again before tucking the blankets under her chin.

  Luke joined his parents again in the big farm kitchen, and his mother poured one more cup of coffee for him.

  Luke stretched his legs wearily.

  "So you had you quite a time with Belinda today?" he asked.

  "She sure made a fuss all right," responded Marty. "Yer poor pa was 'bout to head fer town without even havin' him some supper."

  Luke looked at his father and grinned. "Didn't know you felt so strongly about sparrows," he joked. "Seems to me I remember you destroying a nest or two when I was a kid."

  Clark ran a hand through his thick hair, then smiled a bit shamefacedly at his son. "Ya won't go mentionin' that to Belinda, now, will ya?" After Luke laughed, Clark said, "Ya think I spoil 'er?"

  Luke sobered and looked at his father. "I didn't say that," he said slowly. Then he added with his own look of embarrassment, "If you'd brought her in, you know who would have been looking up medicine for 'bird shock' and fighting to save that little birdie's life."

  They all laughed.

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  Marty looked at her son and said solemnly, "I worry 'bout her, Luke. She is so tenderhearted I fear lest she won't be able to cope with the world out there, with life and death. She grieves so when anything is in pain."

  Luke was silent for many moments.

  "She wants to be a nurse," he finally said slowly.

  Marty's eyes were wide as she gasped, "Belinda? Why, it would kill 'er! She would never be able to stand seem' folks who were hurt and in pain."

  "Did ya talk about it with her--discourage her somehow?" asked Clark.

  "Me?" responded Luke and shuffled about uncomfortably. "Well, no . . . not really. Fact is, I . . . I . . . well, I promised to help her."

  Both his parents looked at Luke as if he had lost his senses. "But . . . but, she'll never be able to--"

  "It'll break her heart fer sure."

  "Maybe not," stated Luke. "I know she can't face the suffering of any little creature now. But maybe--just maybe--learning to do something about the suffering is just what she needs. Don't you see? If she feels she is actually helping those who suffer, then she might make a good nurse. A great nurse! She'll try . . . she'll really try hard. . . ."

  Luke let the thought drift away, carefully watching the eyes of his mother and father as he spoke.

  Marty shook her head and reached for her coffee cup, toying with the handle. Clark unconsciously began to rub his aching leg.

  "I'd like to take her with me on some of my house calls," said Luke matter-of-factly.

  Two heads jerked up. Two pairs of eyes fastened on Luke's face to see if he was serious. No one spoke.

  "That okay?" questioned Luke.

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  There was silence as Clark and Marty exchanged unspoken messages.

  "Well?" Luke pressed.

  Clark straightened in his chair. He cleared his throat and looked again at Marty.

  "Sure," he began slowly. "Sure . . . when the time comes. . ." "Pa," Luke cut in. "Pa, I think the time has come." "But she's jest a child! Only eleven," Marty exclaimed. Luke paused a moment, then said, "I knew when I was eleven. I knew." His quiet voice had gotten their full attention. Marty finally said, "It's just so sudden. It jest . . . well. . . we

  haven't had us time to think on it. . . to pray. How 'bout we talk it over some?"

  Luke placed his cup back on the table and rose to his feet. "Sure," he said, smiling. "Sure. You think about it, talk it over, pray. I think Belinda and I can wait for that."

  Clark rose from the table, too.

  "I best be running along," said Luke. "Abbie will want to know all about that new Graham baby"

  He leaned over to kiss Marty on the cheek, then reached for his coat.

  "Don't worry, Ma," he said. "She's still a little girl. She won't be leaving you for a long time yet. And we won't push. If it's not right for Belinda--why, we'll steer her in another direction."

  Marty smiled weakly at Luke. She patted his hand as if to say there was no one else she would even consider entrusting their Belinda's future to, and he squeezed back with the unspoken message that he understood.

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  THREE

  Sunday

  In spite of her resolve to pray rather than to worry, Marty awoke the next morning still troubled. If only they could be sure they were doing the right thing. Was Belinda really cut out to be a nurse? Could she even know at age eleven? Was she ready to go with Luke on house calls? It was true that Luke had started accompanying Dr. Watkins when he was very young--but Luke had been older than eleven.

  Belinda had no such doubts.

  "Guess what?" she informed them proudly at the breakfast table. "Luke says I can go with him when he goes out to take care of sick people."

  Marty looked at Clark. They had talked long into the night about Luke's suggestion. She wasn't sure if they were ready yet to allow Belinda this experience, but they finally had agreed that if this was what Belinda really wanted, they would not refuse their permission.

  "Are ya sure ya wanna go?" asked Clark.

  It was a needless question. Belinda's eyes fairly glowed with anticipation.

  "Can I?" she pleaded.

  "Yer ma and me are talkin' it over," answered Clark. "Why do you want to do this?" asked Marty softly.

  Belinda looked puzzled by the question. She seemed to feel

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  her mother should understand without it being explained.

  "Why?" repeated Marty. "Ya know Luke sees some pretty bad things at times. People really sick. Some hurt bad. You're wantin' ta see thet?"

  Belinda grimaced and looked rather sober.

  "Member the little bird," Marty continued. "It was limp and suffering. Well, sometimes hurt people look thet bad, too. Do ya really think ya can stand to see people hurt like thet?"

  It was a fair question, and Belinda's expression indicated she knew it. Her face went pale, and she was quiet for a while. "I'll hate that," she answered honestly. "I know I'll hate that part of it. But someone has to be there to help 'em git better. That's what Luke does. But sometimes he needs help. He doesn't have a nurse to help him. I could be a nurse. I could hand 'im things an' help 'im sew up people an'--',

  "All right," said Marty with a nod of her head. "Iffen ya really want to. I . . . I guess I thought ya might like to be a schoolteacher like Clae or Missie, but iffen yer really sure. . ."

  Belinda's face was still white, but she shook her head solemnly. "I'm sure," she said. Then for a moment she looked doubtful. "I think I'm sure." She hesitated before she spoke again. "I'll never know unless I try will I?"

  Clark nodded. "Guess not," he said. "But we don't believe us none in rushin' in, either. Yer awful young to be thinkin' on nursin'. Yer ma and me will give it some more thought."

  Belinda's nod indicated she understood that for now the matter was to be dropped.

  Following the Sunday morning service, they all went to Luke and Abbie's for dinner as planned. The various family members shared in providing the food. There were too many of them to be expecting one woman to do all the work.

  Tables were set up under a large maple tree in the backyard, and dishes of summer foods began to pile up on them as the

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  teams brought each family from church.

  The cousins had a delightful day. There were enough of them to form several games when they all got together, and they began to sort themselves out according to ages and likes and to gather in various spots in the yard for some good, clean Sunday afternoon fun.

  Nandry's children were the oldest, but not all of them were there that day. Tina was already married and living in a small town
several miles from her parents. It was difficult for Marty to believe she actually had a married grandchild--even if that grandchild was the eldest of her foster daughter's children.

  Andrew was now eighteen and working on a neighboring farm, so he did not join the family for Sunday dinner, either. Mary and Jane were both there, but they considered themselves too grown-up to join in the childish play. Instead, they busied themselves with caring for Luke's two little sons, the youngest members of the family.

  A smile played on Marty's lips as her eyes traveled lovingly over the family.

  Clark must have caught the look.

  "What're you grinnin' at?" he asked playfully.

  "Jest thinkin'," said Marty. "Look at the size of this family-- an' half of 'em aren't even here. Clae an' Joe are missin', Missie an' Willie are missin', and Ellie an' Lane are missin'. What would we ever do iffen we could all be together?"

  Clark's eyes followed her around the circle. He, too, smiled at his family.

  "We'd manage," he said comfortably. "Somehow we'd manage."

  Then he turned back to Marty."How many we got, anyway?" he asked her.

  Marty laughed at his sudden question.

  "Ya don't even know yer own offspring," she teased.

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  "Jest never sat me down to count," responded Clark.

  "Well, best ya sit ya down and figure it out," said Marty pertly. "Me, I'm needed in the kitchen," and so saying, she lifted the hem of her skirt and climbed the steps to Abbie's back door.

  After dinner, when they were all relaxing on the back porch, Clark brought up the matter of family numbers again.

  "Got it figured," he said to Marty as she lifted young Aaron onto her lap.

  "Got what figured?" asked Marty.

  "Our offspring. Counted up thirty-eight of 'em."

  "You what?" asked Arnie, leaning forward in his chair. "Counted up the offspring."

  "Whose offspring?" Luke wanted to know.

  "Our offspring. Yer mother's an' mine. Thirty-eight--thet's what I counted."

  "Can't be," said Luke, disbelief in his tone.

  "Figure it yerself. 'Course I counted the ones we got by adoption, by you young'uns marryin', an' by us joinin' families-- the whole bunch. Anyway, we got 'em--I counted 'em."

  "Thet's cheatin' a bit, ain't it?" asked Arnie with a goodnatured grin.

  "How so? They're all ours, ain't they?"

  Dack came thundering up the steps, hooting like an Indian on the warpath. His shirttail was out, his coppery hair every which way, and his trouser knees green with grass stains.

  " 'Ceptin' him, now," laughed Clark, catching Dack around the waist as he ran past. "Don't know iffen I'm gonna claim me thet one."

  They all joined in the hearty laughter, and Clark tossed his wild grandson up into the air and swung him in wide arcs while the little boy squealed with delight. As soon as he was placed back

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  on the ground, a small fist reached out to pound on Clark's artificial leg.

  "Knock, knock," cried Dack. "Knock on wood."

  "Iffen thet boy ever gits 'im the wrong leg, Pa ain't got no one to blame but hisself," said Clare. "Thet little game of his might backfire some."

  Clark had to complete the game to Dack's satisfaction.

  "Who's thet knockin' on my wood?" he said, pretending to be upset, and Dack squealed again and dodged out of reach of his grandfather.

  The young girls were far outnumbered when the Davis family met for Sunday dinners. Since Nandry's two older girls stayed with the women or appointed themselves babysitters for the youngest members, Belinda and Amy Jo were left to find their own amusement. Most of the time they chose to play the games the boys were playing, but on occasion the boys got too rough, and the two girls went off to find fun of their own making.

  They were used to being together. They had shared the same farmyard for all of Amy Jo's days. The difference of nearly a year in age had never been a concern. Nor had the fact that they were very different in temperament. Belinda was softhearted and serious, while Amy Jo was carefree and teasing. She loved a dare, both to give and to take, plagued her mother with her carelessness, and playfully tried to outdo her father in practical jokes. Kate longed for the day when her tomboy daughter would be more ladylike, but father Clare seemed to enjoy the young girl's infectious laughter and rowdy spirit.

  In spite of the personality differences, the girls got along well. It would be incorrect to say that Amy Jo was the leader and Belinda the follower, though it was Amy Jo who thought up the mischief for the two. Belinda led the way in other things--like shouldering responsibility, consideration for others, and spiritual

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  aptitude. She often repeated spiritual or moral lessons she had learned at church or from her parents. If the little admonitions caught Amy Jo in the right frame of mind, she accepted them readily, but if she was not so inclined right then, she in turn reprimanded Belinda for "being so bossy"

  But their little quarrels were always over quickly. For though Amy Jo had a shortness of patience, she also had shortness of memory, and soon she had quite forgotten what the fuss had been about. Indeed, she often seemed to forget there had been a fuss at all.

  It was usually Amy Jo who suggested they desert the boys and find their own fun. Not that she didn't like the boyish games-- Amy Jo had enough of the tomboy in her to enjoy most anything, but she also liked to be the leader and sometimes the boys were not too anxious to let her do the leading.

  And so it was that after a few games of tag, followed by Red Rover, Amy Jo suggested to Belinda that they leave the boys to their own "silly" playing and go make some dandelion chains. Belinda was happy to comply. She had been bursting to tell her good news to somebody, and Amy Jo was the perfect candidate. Belinda wasn't ready to share it yet with the boys. They might laugh and tease.

  "Guess what," said Belinda when the two had settled themselves in the shade of the maple, laps filled with dandelion stems. "Luke's gonna take me with 'im."

  "Where's he goin'?" asked Amy Jo, sounding a bit put out, probably because she hadn't been asked to share the adventure.

  "No place," said Belinda, slightly miffed at Amy Jo's density.

  "Then how's he gonna take ya?" countered Amy Jo with a toss of her reddish brown curls.

  "Silly," said Belinda in disgust. "I mean, to make his house calls. He's gonna let me go along."

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  Amy Jo looked shocked rather than impressed. "Whatever for?" she questioned impatiently.

  "So I can learn," declared Belinda. This conversation was not going at all as she had planned.

  "Learn to what?"

  "To sew up people and fix broken bones an'--"

  "Yuck!" interrupted Amy Jo and stuck out her tongue.

  Belinda bit her lip. She was tempted to call Amy Jo a child, then get up and move away, dandelion chains and all. Instead, she quietly began to count to ten like her father had taught her.

  "Ya really wanna learn that stuff?" asked Amy Jo.

  "'Course," answered Belinda, a stubborn set to her jaw.

  "I wouldn't," Amy Jo shook her head confidently. "I hate blood an' messy cuts an' things. I wouldn't wanna do that at all."

  "Well, someone has to do it," began Belinda, but Amy Jo cut in quickly, "Let Luke. He's the doctor. What's he makin' you do it for? He gits paid to fix people so why should. . ."

  But Belinda could bear no more and closed her ears to the rest of Amy Jo's opinions on the matter. She pulled one of her golden braids and sighed deeply. Amy Jo simply did not understand. Belinda wished she had never told her precious secret. She would say no more--at least not until she could find someone who would really appreciate her wonderful opportunity.

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  FOUR

  House Calls

  Belinda was so anxious to get started on her new venture that Luke had a hard time keeping her eagerness in check. He wanted to talk once more with Clark and Marty and get their final decision. He f
inally found a little free time on a Saturday afternoon.

  "Belinda's pushing for an answer," he said from his place at the kitchen table. "She isn't in a frame of mind to wait much longer. Have you had a chance to think and pray about this?" he asked.

  Clark nodded and reached for a ginger cookie. "She can go." "But . . . but not just anytime," Marty quickly added as she stood beside Luke pouring fresh lemonade.

  "We been thinkin' ya might be able to sorta pick 'n choose the times," Clark explained. "So thet she won't be exposed to too much, too quick like."

  "Exactly" agreed Luke. "Exactly my thinking. That's why I said house calls instead of working at the office. I have some idea ahead of time what I'll be finding when I make a house call. Office--well, I never know what might come in."

  Marty breathed a sigh of relief.

  "Truth is," Luke went on, "I'm on my way out to the Vickers' now Their oldest son, Sam, cut himself with an axe on Wednesday. I stitched it up fer him at the office, but I said I'd stop by and see how it is doing today. Wasn't too bad a cut, but it will need

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  the dressing changed. Can she come?"

  Clark and Marty exchanged glances and the decision was made. Clark nodded their agreement.

  "Good!" said Luke. He finished his cookie and reached for another.

  "I'll call 'er," said Marty. "I set 'er to straightenin' fruit shelves in the cellar."

  Belinda arrived in a flurry of excitement. She was ready to grab her coat and go out immediately with Luke to his buggy.

  "My, my!" said Marty with a laugh. "Jest don't get ya in such a state! Ya need to change thet dirty dress and wash those hands afore yer able to go anyplace."

  Belinda ran to the sink, quickly swishing water over her hands and face, then upstairs to change.

  She was back in a wink, and Marty reached for the brush to straighten her tangled hair.

  Belinda wriggled impatiently. "Hurry Mama," she pleaded. "I don't want Luke to go without me."