Authors: Tamera Alexander
Remembered (45 page)
A familiar glint of rebuttal rose in her eyes.
“Just focus on that question, if you can, Véronique. And nothing else. Do you believe your mother loved you?”
For the longest time she stared at him. Then she slowly nodded. “
Oui
, of that I am certain. But I am also certain of this . . . what she did was wrong. I would never keep my child from her loving father. Not even if I had to cross a thousand oceans.”
I
HAVE GOOD NEWS,
Mademoiselle Girard.” Dr. Hadley leaned forward in his chair, holding up a piece of stationery in his hand.
“At least I hope it is good news.”
Véronique rose from her seat opposite the physician’s desk. “The surgeon in Boston has responded positively to Lilly’s case?”
“He has agreed to perform the surgery on Lilly, yes, mademoiselle. But I would not necessarily call his response ‘positive.” ’ Gesturing, he invited her to be seated again. “I visited with the Carlsons last evening, and while I was there I told them—as we agreed—of a person who desires to speak with them about the procedure. I told them nothing more.”
Véronique nodded. “
Oui
, thank you. This is welcome news, Doctor. I appreciate your coordination of these efforts and am aware of your depth of feeling for this family.”
“You are most welcome, ma’am, but I did nothing that I wouldn’t do for any patient who placed himself under my care.” His expression grew apprehensive. “I’ve practiced medicine here in Willow Springs for nearly thirty years, and in the territory for much longer. I’ve healed many, and I’ve watched many go unhealed” —he looked away briefly—“despite my best efforts.”
Watching him speak, Véronique thought of Miss Maudie. Several times on her visits to Casaroja in recent days, she’d overheard Miss Maudie saying that Doc Hadley’s prescribed bed rest was “just for spite.” Véronique realized Miss Maudie had been jesting and was convinced that any action taken by the man before her on behalf of a patient was for the person’s betterment.
Thankfully the doctor would be accompanying her when she met with the Carlsons later that evening. She wished Jack could be there too, but he’d left that morning on supply runs to mining towns farther away. They’d visited four new towns in the past week and a half, and since discovering her mother’s letter, Véronique’s earnestness to find her father had deepened—just as her hope was fading that she ever would.
“Dr. Hadley, I am certain you have served this community well. The people of Willow Springs should be grateful your abilities are available to them, as I know the Carlsons are.”
His jaw tensed, and for an instant, Véronique thought she had spoken out of turn.
His eyes misted. “It is I who am grateful to the people of this town, Mademoiselle Girard. They have trusted me to deliver their children, and their children’s children. I’ve doctored their ailments and have struggled, oftentimes in vain, to keep death at bay. While doing that, these people have taught me about life. I’ve seen the hand of God in their lives, many times. And I’ve discovered that He often moves in ways I didn’t anticipate.” He leaned forward in his chair. “I have always been honest with the people in my care, no matter the prognosis. And after much prayer on the matter, while I consider your offer most generous, ma’am, I still don’t believe it’s in Lilly’s best interest to undergo this surgery.”
Véronique wasn’t certain she’d heard him correctly. But the resoluteness in his eyes told her that she had. He had expressed concern in their initial meeting, but surely not now—after the
chirurgien
had approved the
procédure
. “You would prefer to watch Lilly lose the ability to walk? To end up a cripple?”
“I would prefer to see her walk the path that God has chosen for her life, Mademoiselle Girard. Whatever that is. Playing the role of rescuer can be thrilling, and believe me, I’ve attempted that once or twice in my life.” A gentle expression softened the frank remark. “However, I’ve discovered that rescue, the way we sometimes think of it, is not always part of God’s plan.”
Véronique stood, suddenly feeling judged and yet not knowing why. “One thing I must know before we meet with Pastor and Mrs. Carlson. . . .Will you counsel them against Lilly’s having the surgery?”
“I will lay out the facts the surgeon has presented. I believe that, as their doctor, it is my duty. But to counsel them one way or the other . . .” He shook his head. “They will seek God’s wisdom on that, Miss Girard. As well they should.”
Sitting in the Carlsons’ kitchen that evening, Véronique felt strangely at odds within herself, and in her purpose in coming. She’d seen Lilly at the hotel as she’d left earlier, and when she’d arrived had heard Hannah Carlson encouraging Bobby to play with a friend down the street. Perhaps it was the clandestine feel of the gathering that had her nerves unsettled.
As Dr. Hadley began the conversation, her mind kept returning to something he’d said that morning in his office.
“And after much prayer on the matter . . .”
But she’d given the matter a great deal of prayer as well. She’d prayed for Lilly’s healing. She’d prayed for the
chirurgien
to say yes. She’d even prayed for Dr. Hadley’s involvement in the correspondence. So why this niggling sense of having taken a false step?
She watched Patrick and Hannah’s faces as Dr. Hadley laid forth her proposition to cover the costs of the
chirurgie
. Hannah’s expression mirrored her surprise; her eyes welled up with tears. The pastor seemed to be battling his own emotions as well.
Patrick took hold of his wife’s hand. “Mademoiselle Girard, your generosity is . . . overwhelming. On behalf of both of us, and Lilly, I extend our appreciation for your kindness. With the cost of the surgery, Hannah and I had given up on having a choice to make. We just figured God had made the choice for us.”
“And we were working on coming to peace with it,” Hannah added quietly.
Véronique inwardly flinched at Hannah’s comment. “You are most welcome, both of you. I am pleased to be able to extend the offer.”
Patrick nestled Hannah’s hand between his. “Understanding what’s at stake, Miss Girard, we’ll need some time to discuss the situation with Lilly, and to consider what will be best for her.”
“
Oui
, that is to be expected, of course.”
Hannah reached over and gently squeezed Véronique’s arm. “Your friendship to our daughter has been a gift in itself, Véronique. And now this . . .” She shook her head. “It’s beyond belief. For the past few months Lilly has struggled, not only physically but with growing up as well, as I know she’s confided in you. Children can be cruel. They don’t mean to be, but their tendency to want to laugh can sometimes take a harsh turn.”
Véronique recalled the day she saw the boys and girls making fun of Lilly behind her back. “
Oui
, it can be most painful. Both to Lilly, and to those who love her.”
Hannah nodded, her tears renewing.
Dr. Hadley stood and reached for his hat. “The surgeon in Boston can perform the surgery on Lilly in October, but he needs your answer no later than the first week of July so preparations can be started. That’s three weeks from now. Will that give you enough time?”
Patrick nodded. “Certainly.”
“I’m not sure if you’ve had time to read through the materials I left with you last night.” Dr. Hadley gestured to a large envelope on the table. “It outlines what steps will be done—during the surgery and afterward, during the recuperation. It states in very clear terms what to expect, and what the risks are. If you have any questions about the contents or what we’ve discussed, you know you can call on me anytime.”
They said their good-byes, and Véronique was nearly back to her hotel room when the source of her concern became clear. Not once had she considered that it might not be within God’s plan to heal Lilly.
Even now, with the
chirurgien
having agreed to perform the
procédure
and with the money available, she couldn’t fathom that this orchestration of events wasn’t part of God’s plan. Everything had come together too perfectly.
Walking up the stairs to her room, she realized why that possibility bothered her so much. And the realization was bittersweet. If God would allow these events to come together, enabling Lilly to have the
chirurgie
, and yet it still not be His desire—what did that mean for her own situation?
Would God bring her halfway around the world on a search for someone He knew she would never find—only to lead her to someone she would never have found otherwise?
T
HAT CANTANKEROUS
M
RS.
H
OCHSTETLER!
” Véronique glared at the note left for her at the hotel’s front desk. “Does the woman not believe that I will pay her?” The mercantile owner’s note communicated nothing about whether her paints had arrived. Only that Véronique owed the remaining balance of her bill.
Lilly’s grin said she was aware of the note’s contents, and her violet eyes held a sparkle that hadn’t been there in days past. “Would you like me to take your bank draft to her? So you don’t have to see her today? I know Mrs. Hochstetler can be a little . . . abrupt at times. At least that’s what mama calls it.”
Véronique covered the girl’s hand. “Oh, Lilly, would you do that for me? I am to meet Jack at the livery, and he is escorting me to Casaroja. Miss Maudie is expecting me for our Wednesday visit.” She wrote out the bank draft for the amount quoted in the note and slid it across the desk. “I so appreciate your kindness.”
Lilly stared at the bank draft and slowly raised her head. “And I appreciate your kindness, Mademoiselle Girard. So do my folks.”
Just yesterday, Pastor and Mrs. Carlson had stopped by the hotel and informed her that they’d made the decision for Lilly to have the
chirurgie
. Véronique could not have been more thrilled. “Lilly, there is no need to keep thanking me. I am pleased to do this for you. And your parents seem happy,
non
?”
“Yes, ma’am. They sure seem to be. Doc Hadley was over at the house last night answering more questions.”
Hearing that drew Véronique’s curiosity. “And what did Dr. Hadley have to say?”
“Oh, nothing that we hadn’t heard before. He just said he wants to make sure we understand all the risks.” Lilly paused and tucked a dark curl behind her ear. “But I don’t know . . .”
“What is it,
ma chérie
?”
“I get the feeling Mama’s not for me having this done. That she’s giving in because it’s what I want. I can’t really tell with my papa. He says that we’ve done all this talking about it, and that now God has done His talking—through the kindness of your gift—and that we ought to listen.”
Véronique smiled. “Your papa is a wise man, Lilly. And your mother loves you without end. She only wants the best for you, I know this for certain.”
No sooner had the words left her mouth than Véronique remembered Jack’s question the evening she’d read her mother’s letter to him. His gentleness with her, the way he’d stayed and listened, meant so much. She knew her mother’s decision had stemmed from love. Despite everything else, of that she had no doubt.
But what that
love
had cost her was not something Véronique would soon forget. Nor easily forgive.
————
The rifle’s report echoed across the plains east of Casaroja, and the wooden bucket went flying from its perch atop the rock some thirty feet away.
Jack looked from Véronique to the bucket, and back again. Her ghost of a smile told him she knew how well she was doing. Yet she said nothing.
She was a natural with the Winchester. He had suspected she might be with the way she handled the Schofield, but something else seemed to be at work behind her shooting this evening. An undercurrent that sharpened her desire to send that bucket sailing.
Maybe it had to do with her mother’s letter. She hadn’t said anything else about it since she’d read it to him in her hotel room, but he sensed an unrest within her. An anger—and a disappointment— that she didn’t know how to deal with.
When she’d asked him to escort her out here to see Miss Maudie, he’d gladly agreed. He hadn’t expected time alone with her this evening, so this was an unexpected pleasure. And she seemed especially glad to be in his company, which only deepened that pleasure.
He studied her. “You’re sure you’d never shot a gun before that morning I took you out?”
“I am quite sure, Jack. But thank you for the compliment. I have a good teacher,
non
?” She lowered the rifle and reloaded the chamber as he’d taught her.
Her smooth action with the firearm was a sharp contrast to the blue silk gown she wore. “I have been monopolizing your rifle, Jack. Would you like an opportunity to shoot?”
Purposefully staring, he said, “I’m doing exactly what I came out here to do.”
She laughed. “To watch me shoot?”
“To spend time with you. Doesn’t much matter to me what we’re doing.”
Her smile softened, and her gaze drifted from his.
His focus slipped to her bodice. The dress wasn’t revealing, not indecent by any means, but his turn in thought was sudden. More and more, he found himself thinking about her these days, and in increasingly intimate terms.
Striding to the bucket, he picked it up, then repositioned it another ten feet out beyond the rock. She needed more of a challenge.
He wished he could be with her every day. That she could be the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes in the morning, and the last thing he saw before turning down his lamp at night. He walked back to her, aware of how her gaze followed him. Fine by him.
Some nights he lay awake in his room across the hall from hers and thought about her, wondering what she was doing. If she was asleep yet. Or maybe . . . if sleep eluded her too, was she entertaining similar thoughts about him?
She took aim again. Squeezed the trigger. And the bucket went sailing.
Unbelievable
.
Later, after unhitching the wagon and getting Charlemagne and Napoleon settled at the livery, they walked back to the hotel. When they reached the third-floor landing, her pace slowed. He fell into step beside her.