They Called Her Mrs. Doc. Page 6

  That evening Cassie did not sit in the drawing room and sew with her mother. Instead, she excused herself and retired early.

  She did manage to get to sleep even though she still felt agitated and restless. In her thinking, the only way to make the night pass and the new day dawn was to sleep it away.

  The next morning she awakened to a drizzling sky. “I do wish God had arranged a nicer day,” she grumbled to herself and then remembered she had not thought to ask Him for one. “I’m sorry,” she whispered contritely. “I didn’t mean to complain. It seems that I’ve been doing a good deal of complaining lately.” Cassie tried to still her restless heart. “It’s just—just this ‘not knowing.’ Not being able to make definite plans. I—I can’t manage uncertainties very well. You know that.”

  She paused. “I’ll be fine once Samuel gets here,” she promised God and hastened to prepare herself for her friend’s coming.

  He did not keep her waiting. Just as he had promised, he arrived early in the forenoon. He had to shake rain from his hat and coat before he entered the hall, but he did not complain about the inclement weather as Cassie had done.

  “Come to the parlor,” Cassie urged. “Dickerson has laid a fire. You need to dry out. I’ll fetch some coffee,” and Cassie ushered Samuel to the parlor and hurried off to the kitchen.

  They would have talked right through the lunch hour had not Stephen been sent to call them. Reluctantly they joined the family at the dining table.

  The afternoon was again spent in conversation. They chatted easily, but Cassie began to get agitated again. It seemed that this visit was really getting them nowhere in particular.

  They joined the family for dinner, then spent the evening before the open fire. The rain had ended by the time Samuel looked at his pocket watch and took his leave. Cassie hated to see him go. Two days, her heart kept crying, two days and you’ll be off to Ottawa. Shouldn’t we make our plans?

  But Samuel seemed not to share her concern. The talk did not get around to settling things between them.

  Samuel did not arrive again until late in the afternoon the next day. He brought Cassie up-to-date on his packing and planning. It seemed as if things were falling nicely into place for Samuel. He would soon be Dr. Smith, doing his internship at the Ottawa General. And she, Cassie, would be Cassandra Dell Winston, old maid back in Montreal.

  Cassie bade Samuel a rather cool good-night when he left that evening. Tomorrow he would board his train and he still hadn’t discussed their future together.

  “You will go to the train with me, won’t you?” he asked her, lifting her chin as he had a habit of doing.

  Cassie nodded. She couldn’t imagine not going to see him off.

  “We need to talk,” he whispered confidentially and leaned to kiss her cheek.

  Cassie lingered in the hall. She didn’t understand him at all. If he needed to talk, why didn’t he talk? She had been there and she had been listening.

  Reluctantly she climbed the steps to her room. Tomorrow was the final day. Tomorrow would be his last chance to ask her.

  Her father suggested that she use the carriage and go around to pick up Samuel and take him to the train depot. Cassie was happy to comply with the arrangements. She called Samuel on the phone and told him that she would be there promptly at ten. That would give plenty of time for him to load his belongings and drive leisurely to the station. Any talking would have to be done in the privacy of the carriage on the way.

  It wasn’t the way Cassie would have planned it. Hardly the romantic setting she had envisioned for her proposal of marriage. But she told herself that any proposal was romantic and the time and place didn’t really matter that much.

  She arrived in front of Samuel’s lodgings promptly at ten, and her driver helped Samuel load his trunk and carpetbags. Then Samuel climbed in beside her and they started off for the station. He was quiet and thoughtful for the first few moments, and Cassie feared he would never find his tongue. Then he reached for her hand and pressed it to his lips. “I’m really going to miss you,” he whispered. “I pray that the days might pass quickly.”

  Cassie felt the tears gathering in her eyes.

  “You have no idea how special the last few months have been to me,” he went on. “I only wish I hadn’t needed to keep my nose so closely in the books.”

  Cassie lifted a linen hankie and blew her nose softly.

  “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you how much it means to me to be able to get my medical training,” he went on. When Cassie offered no comment, he continued. “My mother always planned that I should be a doctor and she set aside a little money as she could for my education. When she died, I wasn’t sure if I still wanted to be a doctor. I guess I was just plain angry about her dying. And then I realized that if she had been where a doctor was available, she might not have died. That made me more determined than ever that I’d fulfill her dream.”

  He was silent for a few moments and then went on. “I don’t know if I would have made it without the help of your father. He’s a special man, Cassandra. A very special man. I owe so much to him—and I plan to pay him back by being the best doctor I can possibly be.”

  The horses had been passing through the streets at a brisk trot. Cassie glanced around her and realized they had only a few more blocks to go to reach the railway station. Panic caused her heart to begin to pound. He was talking—but not about the right things.

  “Will you write me?” he was asking and Cassie could have shaken him. Of course she would write him. He need not have wasted their time asking.

  “The time will pass,” he continued. “I know it will drag for me—but I’ll have my practice and you’ll have your—”

  What? she wanted to cut in. What are you leaving for me? Your memory?

  But he continued. “—your family and friends—the church. The days will pass. Before we both know it the internship will be over and we will be free to make plans—”

  “We are almost there,” Cassie interrupted. The station was looming into view.

  He tightened his grip on her hand.

  “Your mother says that you are getting to be a fine cook,” he said in lighter mood and Cassie pulled her hand away. She wasn’t in a frame of mind to be teased.

  “I might get some days off at Christmas. If I do, could I come to see you?”

  “Of course,” agreed Cassie, but reminded herself that Christmas was several months away.

  The driver had pulled the horses to a halt and was slowly climbing down from the carriage seat. Samuel seized her hand again and pressed a kiss into her palm. “I’m going to miss you so much,” he whispered and then he was stepping down from the carriage to help the driver with the trunk.

  Cassie sat in frustration. He is leaving. Leaving just like that. Leaving with a promise of making plans when he completes his internship. But that is way down the road. What was she to do while he did his internship? What plans would she be able to make? How was she to spend her days—her hours? Waiting? Wondering?

  She climbed stiffly from the carriage and walked with him into the station. She stood back and fidgeted while he purchased his ticket and checked the luggage. She fumed inwardly when he moved forward with a smile and held his hand out to her again.

  “Walk with me to the platform?” he asked her.

  She didn’t answer, just trudged along at his side.

  The train was hissing noisily as they made their way to the steps for boarding. He turned to her then and pulled her gently into his arms. She was sure he would say something. Ask her if she would wait for him. Tell her he wanted to marry her. But he said nothing. Just looked deeply into her eyes, then leaned to kiss her softly on the lips.

  “Goodbye, Cassandra,” he whispered against her hair. “I—I’m really going to miss you.”

  She thought she saw tears forming in his hazel eyes. They looked dark with sorrow, dark and brooding. She reached up to clasp the hand that brushed her cheek and then her tears bega
n to spill unashamedly. He bent to kiss one of them away and then turned from her and hastened to board the train. In a moment he appeared at the window directly above her. She heard the grinding as he lifted the framed glass that separated them.

  Already the train was hissing with renewed vigor and she knew it would soon be moving him down the tracks.

  He leaned out the window and said another goodbye. She saw that he was about to lower the window again.

  “Just a minute,” she called into the noise about them.

  He lifted the window higher and leaned out farther, cupping his hand to his ear so that he might hear her.

  “Are you going to ask me to marry you or aren’t you?” she screamed as loudly as she could.

  She knew he had understood her by the shocked look on his face.

  “Well—?” she yelled again. “Are you?”

  “We need to talk,” he hollered back at her. “We have so much to decide.”

  But Cassie was not to be put off. The train began to move slowly down the tracks and Cassie walked right along beside it, looking up at the window where Samuel stretched out to hear her.

  “Are you?” she insisted again. “Because if you are, I’m saying yes.”

  People around them were grinning but Cassie paid no heed. She continued to walk alongside the train, her face turned upward toward Samuel.

  “You’d say yes?” he called down to her, excitement showing in his face.

  “Yes. I’m saying yes.”

  He stretched even farther from the train. For one terrifying moment she feared he might fall.

  “Cassandra Winston,” he shouted, “I love you. Will you marry me?”

  Cassie forgot to walk. She stopped dead-still, her hands flying up to her face. He had said he loved her. He had proposed.

  The train moved on without her, slowly gathering speed. Samuel was being borne quickly away. Suddenly she realized she had not answered him. She cupped her hands to her mouth. “Yes!” she cried as loudly as she could. “Yes, I will!” And she touched a finger to her lips to throw him a kiss and then stood with the tears streaming down her cheeks as she watched the train carry away the man she loved.

  Chapter Eight

  Letters

  “My dearest Cassandra,

  “You don’t know how happy you have made me by promising to be my wife. I haven’t been able to think of anything else since my departure from Montreal.

  “I can’t begin to count the number of times that I longed to speak to you about marriage, but it seemed so unfair to ask you to wait while I finished my internship.”

  Cassie flipped her red hair and said to herself, Pawsh, then continued reading.

  “I feel there are so many things that we haven’t yet discussed. Things pertaining to our future. I always want to be totally honest with you so that you will make the decision knowing full well what you are getting yourself into.

  “You know I am from the West and you know that I want, more than anything else (except to marry you, of course), to practice medicine. I don’t know if I have fully explained my intention of returning to Alberta for my practice.”

  Cassie drew in a deep breath and lowered the letter. “The West?” she exclaimed under her breath. “Why, it is a savage frontier. Pagan! How could—?”

  She looked back at the pages that hung limply from her fingers, then raised them to go on with her reading.

  “I know that Alberta is still a new land, rugged and rough, and not like the city you are used to. In fact, we would not even be in a city, for I plan to set up practice in the community where I grew up. That was my main reason for holding back in speaking to you of marriage.

  “I know that you have been used to a fine home and all the amenities of life. I cannot promise you those things. At least not yet.

  “For this reason I want you to think carefully before considering being my wife. If you should change your mind, I will understand and not hold it against you. Please think about this thoroughly and spend much time in prayer over the matter and I shall do likewise. This is not a light decision that I am asking you to make.”

  “I’ve already made my decision,” said Cassie with a lift of her chin. “And I have no intention of changing it. But Alberta? We’ll see.”

  The letter went on to tell of Samuel’s new boardinghouse, the city, the hospital where he would soon begin his work. “I haven’t been on duty yet,” he continued, “but I did slip over to ‘spy out’ the place. It appears to be quite up-to-date and the staff that I met seem congenial. I am looking forward to getting started.”

  Cassie’s eyes quickly scanned the rest of the message until they came to the words, “I love you and already miss you more than I can say. Please pray and seek God’s direction for our future plans and take all the time you need to really know your heart. (Though I shall live in anguish until I know your answer.) But I promise not to press you on the matter.

  “I will be waiting for your letter. I have enclosed my postal address. The mail is slow so I will try not to be too impatient. I do pray that the days and weeks pass quickly so that I might see you again.

  “With my deepest devotion, Samuel.”

  Cassie sighed deeply as she lowered the letter. Then she held it to her bosom for a moment while the tears gathered in her eyes. She brushed them away with an impatient gesture and reread the last paragraphs of the letter. Then with determination she walked to her desk, seated herself, and took up pen and paper.

  “My dear Samuel,” she wrote, “I received your letter by morning post and was pleased to hear that your train trip went well and you are nicely settled in your new place of residence.

  “The days have been dragging for me since your departure. Mama tries to keep my hands occupied, but my mind is not so easily engaged. I think of you each hour of the day and pray that God will make your internship both pleasurable and profitable for you.

  “As to the question of returning to Alberta, I believe the Bible states that one is to follow one’s chosen companion, wherever God should lead him. If He leads you back to your West, then I assume that the West will be right for me also.”

  Cassie laid aside her pen and her forehead puckered slightly. Was she being totally honest? Did she really plan to travel west and live in an uncivilized country? She could not imagine the horrors it might hold.

  “Yes. Yes,” she said after a few moments of deep thought. “If that is what he really wants, I will go. I have learned to love him. I have no intention of losing him. But—but I do hope and pray that he doesn’t decide to practice medicine in the West for the rest of his life—the rest of our lives.”

  And Cassie picked up her pen and continued her long, newsy letter.

  As the weeks and months slipped slowly by, Samuel dared to accept the fact that Cassandra would really become his bride upon completion of his internship, and plans flew back and forth via letters.

  “This is totally unfair to you,” he said in one epistle, “to be courted by mail. A young, beautiful woman such as you should have a beau who can take you to concerts, plays, and picnics. Be there to accompany you to church and fairs. Bring you candy and flowers. And instead you must sit at home alone and be content to read letters that try, unsuccessfully, to express my heart.”

  Cassie pondered his statement. She hadn’t exactly been staying home alone. She still attended concerts and plays and even went on picnics. But she went with Abigail, who was still bemoaning the fact that Cassie was actually betrothed. Occasionally she went with her parents. And on rare and special occasions, her brother Stephen accompanied her.

  “Do not fuss about the long-distance courtship,” Cassie wrote back to Samuel. “I do miss you terribly and wish with all my heart that you could be here to do the things you described. But I am still getting out. Just the other night Stephen and I took in a play at the Opera House. He has really changed in the past year and Mama and Papa now allow him to escort me to some events.”

  At times Cassie could hardl
y believe that her brother—the pest—had seemed overnight to have become a young man, and a young man whose company she could enjoy.

  “It used to be that I thought him a dreadful burden,” her pen continued, “and now I have discovered that I shall actually miss him when I move away.

  “Abigail and I go out together. She is still not being courted and it is terribly hard on her. She blames her father for not encouraging young suitors to call. He is a very opinionated man, I’m afraid, and I suppose he feels that no young man is good enough for his daughter. Mr. Birdwell, or I should now say Dr. Birdwell, Abigail’s hopeful, has disappeared to who-knows-where. Abigail has completely lost touch.”

  Cassie dipped her pen in the ink well and thought of Abigail. She was having such a difficult time since Cassie was engaged. It certainly wasn’t that Abigail was unattractive. Cassie remembered her own previous twinges of jealousy over Abigail’s looks and now Cassie felt sorry for her.

  By the time she resumed her letter, the ink on the pen tip had dried and she had to dip it again.

  “We had our first snowfall a few nights ago,” she continued. “Some of the young people from church are talking of a sleigh ride. Mama feels that it will be socially acceptable for me to join them if I have Stephen as an escort. Does it bother you at all if I go on such outings? I do not want to do anything that would offend.”

  And so the months passed and the letters continued. Samuel did not make it for Christmas as he had hoped. “I only get one day off,” he wrote. “Other staff have seniority of course, and we are asked to be on duty almost around the clock. I am dreadfully disappointed. I had hoped so to see you again. I will be thinking of you—continually—and I hope that you will spare me a few moments of thought as well.”