Ginny Aiken (36 page)

He’d loved Martina, but his love for her had nearly crushed the life out of him. He’d also borne the guilt for her death, but if what Letty, Amos, Pastor Stone, and God’s Word itself had said were true, then perhaps he needn’t shoulder that burden.
Perhaps he wasn’t responsible for what had happened. He had tried to provide his wife with the best care possible. Martina had refused to let Melvin Harrison see her. He’d done everything in his power, everything he could control. His wife had rejected the medical care he’d tried to provide, and he hadn’t wanted to force it on her against her will. An honorable man never forced his will upon another, just as God gave His children the gift of choice, the right to sin or not.

Perhaps he hadn’t been quite so despicable when he’d held back his insistence, when he’d realized how weak arguing made Martina, leaving her ever more distraught.

Thinking through all the layers of blame he’d heaped upon himself, Eric realized he’d tried to assume others’ accountability. He couldn’t have forced Horace Patterson to change his ways; Slosh had made his own destructive decisions. He couldn’t have forced the townspeople to accept Letty’s actions any more than he could have kept her from following her conscience. And he couldn’t have controlled the crowd tonight. Even if he’d been at the boy’s side, he still could have been helpless to prevent the accident.

In the dark hours before dawn, Eric saw himself as Letty did. It was as if someone had turned the key on the lamp in his heart. No, not someone. Something. Love now lit his heart.

He, Eric Karl Wagner, had indeed jumped in and protected both Steven and Letty. The light inside him grew brighter. His thoughts turned back to when he’d held her for the duration of a magical waltz. He remembered his feelings when she’d pulled out of his arms. Had he not attended the ball, he might never have realized the depth of his love for her.

Now he knew what Scripture meant when it said that perfect love casts out all fear. Puny and imperfect though his was in comparison to the Almighty’s, his love had made him act. He’d saved Steven and protected Letty without a thought to his fears, without a thought to his past. How much stronger, more
decisive, more courageous might he be if he accepted Jesus’ sacrifice, God’s precious forgiveness? If he forgave himself for being a mere man?

Now he understood what Amos had meant. Forgiving himself would be a matter of constantly remembering Jesus’ love for him, the Lord’s willingness to suffer on that cross so that he, Eric Karl Wagner, might be reconciled to the Father in heaven. He wasn’t perfect. He couldn’t fix or even control the world around him. His guilt lay in his efforts to do just that.

In the stark hours of dawn, in Letty’s little clinic, Eric turned from the lamp and sought the woman who’d led him back to the one true Light of his heart. Feeling freer than he had in years, he allowed a smile to curve his lips.

His love for Letty had taught him to hope again, and that hope had led him to renewed life in Jesus Christ.

18

After Steven’s accident two weeks earlier, Eric’s behavior began to change. Suddenly, it seemed as if he was always . . . there. No matter where Letty went or what she did, Eric was nearby, his intense, dark eyes upon her.

She had no idea what his constant presence meant. Perhaps he didn’t trust her to take proper care of Steven. She’d seen ample evidence of the love between Eric and all the Patterson scamps. But if that German blockhead thought for one moment that she’d let anything preventable happen to those children, then . . . well, then he was duller than a butter knife’s edge. She loved them as much as he did.

“We shall see what he says when he sees how much Steven’s wounds have improved,” she muttered, closing a container of Calendula ointment. The boy’s recovery had progressed so well that she was taking him and a supply of remedies back to Eric’s home. Steven would fare well in the homey cheer that now filled the large ranch house.

Earlier that day, she’d brought her buggy from Amos’s place and had left Prince tethered to the post out front. After closing her satchel, she took it to the vehicle and then made a pallet for Steven on the floor.

Back inside, she helped her patient prepare for his journey. “Glad to be going home, aren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” answered Steven, enthusiasm in his blue eyes. Letty smiled, thankful he’d been most severely burned on the more discreet parts of his body. His face had been spared serious scarring.

After settling the boy in his temporary bed, Letty took up the reins and set Prince to a fast trot. Occasional glances at Steven told her he wanted to get there quickly. She couldn’t blame him; she was taking him to Eric’s home, to everything she herself held dear. If only—

Oh, stop it!
She’d begun to seek a position in towns without medical care. The chapter of her life reserved for Hartville had almost ended. It hurt plenty to leave behind the love of her life; to also leave the Pattersons would take all her willpower. The children had stolen her heart from the moment she’d set eyes on Steven. Leaving them hurt nearly as much as losing Eric. At least she could take comfort in knowing she wouldn’t leave them alone. Eric meant to keep them together and at his side, at least until a family for all five was found. They would be fine. She ought not torture herself with “if onlys” and “what ifs” any longer.

As she pulled up to the barn, Letty didn’t indulge in the bittersweet pleasure of admiring the ranch house. Steven’s welcoming committee set up an instant clamor, offering her a welcome diversion. She laughed for the first time in a long, long while.

Eric found Letty surrounded by children, laughing, and if he were granted the honor, he would make sure she remained like that for the rest of her life.

He approached the buggy. “The wounded warrior returns in a blaze of glory, I see. May I have the honor of escorting him to his quarters?”

Letty turned, and in that first instant, Eric thought he saw
love and longing in her gaze, but he blinked, and by then she’d shuttered her eyes. He didn’t at all like that, and he made up his mind never to let it happen again. He planned instead to make joy and laughter permanent in the life of the woman who, with her heart-healing love, had shown him the way out of the depths of his pain.

“. . . just don’t press against the large burn on his right side,” she said, and Eric realized she’d answered his question while he’d envisioned their future.

He would have to take care of Steven before he could claim Letty’s full attention, and he was selfish enough to want the woman he loved to concentrate on him, and him alone, when he asked her to become his wife.

“Of course I’ll be careful, Letty. Aren’t I careful, children?”

“Yes, Mr. Eric.” The voices sounded as one, but the giggles that followed ruined the charming effect.

He reached into the buggy and gathered Steven to his chest. For a moment, he just held the boy, relishing his even breaths, his steady heartbeat, his renewed life. He was glad he would never again live through the night when Steven nearly died.

“I’m so glad you’re healing, son,” he said. “So very glad.”

As he went back to Steven’s room, Eric felt Letty follow him with her gaze. He didn’t pause to look at her. He knew that if he did, he might lose sight of Steven’s need for bed rest and leave the boy to manage on the front room settee. Then he’d sweep the pretty doctor straight to Silver Creek Church.

Letty paused on the porch before entering Eric’s home. The memories of her last visit here were, at the very least, daunting. She squared her shoulders and stepped up to the threshold, but before she went any farther, the arrival of a horse and buggy caught her attention.

Dismay made Letty’s already wobbly composure falter. Emmaline
Whitehall descended from the conveyance with a brown paper–wrapped parcel in hand. “Dr. Morgan! A moment of your time, if you please.”

Letty hoisted her chin upward. “Of course.”

“I heard about the boy. How you saved his life.” A patch of red stained each of Emmaline’s hollow cheeks. “Here,” she said, thrusting the package at Letty. “I thought you might give him this to pass the time. You likely have all you can do to keep the lad in bed, and I hoped to help.”

Letty caressed the rough wrapping, her gaze on the schoolmarm’s flustered features. Emmaline had brought more than a gift for Steven; her white flag of peace had come wrapped in brown paper. “Thank you so much. I can use all the help anyone cares to offer.”

The older woman took a step back from Letty and then studied the ranch house. A suspicious shine glossed her eyes, and she nodded. “You’ll do,” she said. Then she hurried to her buggy without acknowledging Letty’s good-bye.

Letty’s eyelids prickled with emotion, and she hugged Steven’s gift to her heart. One more person had acknowledged her adequacy. Randy, the Stones, Elsa Richards and her brood, and now Emmaline had accepted her. It wasn’t enough to change her mind about her future, but their acceptance offered comfort she would carry with her to her new home. Wherever that chanced to be.

Buoyed by her personal triumph, Letty followed Eric and Steven. She found them in the boy’s room, preparing the patient for a much-needed rest. Caroline, Amelia, Suzannah, and baby Willy were justifiably reluctant to leave their brother’s side.

“Here,” she said, giving Steven Emmaline’s gift. “Miss Whitehall brought this for you. She thought you might enjoy it.”

The boy ripped off the covering and found an illustrated copy of
Hans Christian Andersen’s Fairy Tales.
“An appropriate gift from
a librarian, wouldn’t you say?” Letty asked as she put away the sickroom supplies she’d brought.

While the children studied the pictures in Steven’s new book, Eric admired Letty’s movements. Efficient as always, she soon had the room arranged to her purposes. She smoothed the boy’s hair off his brow, plumped up a pillow behind him, and asked how he felt.

“ ’M burnin’, Dr. Miss. Feels like ants is crawlin’ on my burns. Hurts more’n I can tell.”

“Yes, well, Steven, I understand,” she said. “But it’s best if you say that you feel
as though
ants
are
crawling on your burns.” She caught Eric’s smile and added, “Don’t you dare laugh. Something must be done about their language.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, solemn as an undertaker.

With dignity, she returned to her patient. “Since you’re right by it,” she said to Eric as she helped Steven sip fresh water, “please take the vial of Hypericum from my bag. The injured nerves are causing him pain, and he needs relief to rest.”

Eric obeyed, glad to have her in his home again. She dropped three pellets under Steven’s tongue, made him comfortable, and shooed the others off to play. She took the baby from Caroline and, crooning, carried him to his bed. After changing the little one’s diapers, she settled him in for a nap.

Eric saw his opportunity. “I need to speak with you,” he said. “Privately, so I waited until you’d seen to the children. Please come with me to the front room.”

Apprehension filled her eyes. She squared her shoulders and shot her chin up. “Of course,” she said in a wobbly voice.

Eric led her to the settee, yet he remained standing. Questions flew from her eyes, and the moment was his. He tried to remember what he’d planned to say, but nothing eloquent came to him.