The Heart Remembers (35 page)

Dr. Dane smiled at him. “I sure could use a ride!”

When Dr. Dane had seated himself, the rancher said, “Where you going?”

Dr. Dane shrugged. “I don’t know.”

The rancher frowned. “You don’t know?”

“I’ll explain,” Dr. Dane said, gesturing for him to put the wagon in motion.

The rancher did so, and Dane told him about the stagecoach and the bodies at the bottom of the canyon. He pointed out the knot on his forehead, which by then was an angry shade of red, explained that his memory was gone, and said he was the only one who lived.

The rancher said, “Well, sir, my name is Jim Nelson, and I’m on my way to Vail. I’ll take you to the doctor there, since there are no doctors in the small towns between here and there.”

“I appreciate your kindness, Mr. Nelson.”

“It’ll be best, though, if we stop and let you tell the town marshal in Gypsum about the stagecoach and the bodies in the canyon.”

“Yes. I need to do that.”

Nelson looked at him with puzzlement. “So you don’t have any idea why you were on that stage?”

“None at all. All I can say is that I’m thankful to be alive.” He touched the knot on his forehead. “I must have hit my head a good lick, though.”

Nelson chuckled. “I guess so.”

It was getting dark and snowing even harder when they arrived in Vail. The wind was fierce. Jim Nelson took the amnesiac to Dr.
Bruce Stanton’s house behind his office on Vail’s Main Street, and left to keep the appointment he had in town.

Dr. Stanton took the amnesiac into his office, treated the knot and the cut on his forehead, examined his knee, and listened to his story.

Dr. Stanton told him there were many kinds of amnesia: hysterical amnesia, which was caused by some powerful emotional shock; disease-caused amnesia; selective amnesia, in which the brain blocks the memory of repugnant events; and traumatic brain injury amnesia, which is caused by a severe blow to the head.

Dr. Stanton looked at him compassionately. “This is what you have, sir.”

“I see. Let me tell you something, Doctor. One thing that I do remember is Scripture.”

Stanton’s eyes brightened. “Scripture? The Bible.”

“Yes, and I remember that Jesus Christ is my Saviour.”

Stanton’s eyes grew brighter yet.

“I remember these two Scriptures especially. ‘Thy word have I hid in mine
heart
, that I might not sin against thee.’ And ‘Keep thy
heart
with all diligence; for out of it are the issues of life.’ I also have a familiar voice that echoes in my head, Doctor, that says ‘The heart remembers things the mind forgets.’ The heart, versus the mind, Dr. Stanton.”

Dr. Bruce Stanton smiled. “There definitely is a difference between the heart and the mind, my friend. I want you to know that my wife and I are born-again Christians.”

Dane Logan smiled. “Well, wonderful! Doctor, will I ever get my memory back?”

“Because your eyes and speech are clear, your trauma must not have been severe. Your memory will probably come back gradually, but it could come back all at once. You must avoid exertion and get plenty of rest.” Dr. Stanton paused, then said, “My wife and I
will keep you in our house until it clears up and you know where your home is. I think it will only be a few days.”

“Well, dear brother in Christ, I appreciate this more than I can ever tell you.”

“It will be our pleasure, my brother. I’m going to take you to my pastor tomorrow. I want him to hear that with all of your loss of memory, you still remember Scripture and that you are a Christian, although you cannot remember your name, your occupation, or anything about your family or your home.”

TWENTY-FOUR
 

I
t was snowing hard in Central City on Thursday morning.

At the Logan Clinic, Dr. Tim Braden left Mary Edwards in the back room to put the bottles of medicine that had come from Denver on yesterday’s stagecoach in the medicine cabinet, and headed for the office.

Susan Coulter was at her desk doing paperwork when Dr. Tim came from the back room, and he was about to tell her he was going into his private office to work on some patients’ files when he saw Western Union agent Charlie Holmes come in.

Snow clung to Charlie’s coat and hat as he handed Dr. Tim a yellow envelope and said, “This came from Dr. Thomas Watson in Glenwood Springs. He needs a reply, so I’ll wait.”

Dr. Tim nodded, took the telegram out of the envelope, and read it.

Susan saw the worried look on Dr. Tim’s features. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

At that moment, Mary came from the back room. “Dr. Braden, I was going to ask you where I should put the bottles of wood alcohol … but right now I want to know why you look so upset.”

Dr. Tim met her gaze. “This is a telegram from Dr. Watson in
Glenwood Springs. He says Dr. Logan hasn’t shown up yet, and he wants to know if he was detained in his departure by the weather. He says it’s snowing hard in Glenwood Springs.

“Charlie, wire Dr. Watson back and tell him that Dr. Logan left Central City early yesterday morning. Since the snowstorm hit later in the day, it must have detained him en route. Ask him to wire us back when Dr. Logan arrives there.”

When Charlie was gone, Dr. Tim went to the wall pegs and took down his hat and coat. He said to Susan and Mary, “I’ll be back shortly. I must let Tharyn know that Dr. Dane hasn’t arrived as yet in Glenwood Springs. Oh, and Mary … the wood alcohol goes in that small cabinet next to the large one.”

At the Logan home, Melinda Braden was helping Tharyn clean house, as was little Beth Ann.

It was a happy trio working together. At that moment, they were in the parlor. Beth Ann was singing at the top of her lungs a song she had learned in Sunday school. Tharyn and Melinda smiled at each other, enjoying the joyful sound of the little girl’s voice.

Outside, the wind was howling around the eaves of the house, and the snow was piling up rapidly. Large drifts covered the yard, and the storm showed no signs of letting up.

A bright, cheery fire crackled in the parlor’s fireplace, and sumptuous aromas of bread and cinnamon rolls baking in the kitchen permeated the house. It was a happy home, filled with love and the blessings of the Lord.

At one point, while Melinda was dusting the fireplace mantel, Tharyn carried her broom across the parlor to where Beth Ann was dusting an end table, and put an arm around her shoulders. She looked into the child’s dark brown eyes and smiled. “Sweetheart, I love you so much. You are God’s special gift to Daddy and me.”

Beth Ann turned her face upward and puckered her lips. Tharyn bent down and received the kiss on her cheek from her little girl.

“I love you so much, Mommy. And I love Daddy so much, too.”

A few minutes later, Melinda and Beth Ann went to one of the first-floor bedrooms to clean, leaving Tharyn to wash the big mirror on the parlor wall. She looked at her reflection and gave herself a private smile. A special feeling of contentment filled her heart. She whispered to her reflection, “Won’t Dane be surprised when he gets home and I tell him? I have a strong feeling that this baby will be a boy!”

She closed her eyes. “Please, dear Lord, let this little one be born healthy and strong.”

She opened her eyes, and a small stab of fear entered her mind. She quickly shook it away. “I can’t go another seven months living in fear. I must trust my heavenly Father to see that this baby is all right.”

She patted her tummy and sent her love to her unborn child.

There was a knock at the front door. Beth Ann hurried from the bedroom and darted down the hall to answer it.

In the parlor, Tharyn heard the rapid footsteps and the door open. “Mommy, it’s Dr. Tim. He’s here to see us!”

Melinda came down the hall from the bedroom. She and Tharyn drew up together in the foyer.

As Dr. Tim stepped in and closed the door, he ran his gaze over the three faces and told them about Dr. Watson’s telegram.

Fear threaded its way into Tharyn’s heart.

Beth Ann saw that her mother was disturbed by the news, and she pressed against Tharyn’s skirt.

Melinda spoke up quickly. “Well, I’m sure Dane didn’t make it to Glenwood Springs because of the storm. He no doubt took shelter somewhere.”

“I’m sure that’s it, honey,” Tim said. “But Tharyn, I knew you would want to know.”

“Of course. Thank you, Tim.”

Tim smiled. “Don’t you worry now. He’ll show up there, and when Dr. Watson’s next telegram arrives with that good news, I’ll send Charlie here to the house with it.”

Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

Dr. Tim turned around and opened it. Charlie Holmes was standing there. He was invited in, and told them he had just learned that the telegraph lines were down in the mountains west of Central City. He could not send the return wire from Dr. Tim to Dr. Watson until service was restored by the Western Union linemen.

Dr. Tim and Charlie left together.

When Tharyn closed the door behind them, Beth Ann looked up at her mother with troubled eyes. “Mommy, Daddy is all right, isn’t he?”

“Of course he is, sweetheart. It’s just as Aunt Melinda said a few minutes ago. Your daddy no doubt took shelter somewhere between here and Glenwood Springs.”

Melinda bent down and hugged the child. “Your daddy’s fine, sweetie. God is taking good care of him.”

In Glenwood Springs, Dr. Thomas Watson went to the hospital where his patient lay in a room on her bed, waiting for Dr. Dane Logan to arrive and do the hip replacement. He explained that Dr. Logan had not arrived yesterday as scheduled, and was not in town yet. Dr. Logan had no doubt taken shelter from the storm somewhere in the mountains.

On Friday morning, the storm was still in progress.

Tharyn and Beth Ann sat in the parlor looking out the front
window, the child on her mother’s lap. The fireplace gave off welcome heat. They both were hoping that Dane had turned back, and soon would be arriving home.

Beth Ann was talking about the big hug and kiss she would give her daddy when suddenly Tharyn peered through the falling snow and stood up. As she carried Beth Ann closer to the window, the little girl said, “What is it, Mommy?”

“It’s a horse coming into the yard, honey. It looks like—it
is
! It’s Pal! Look! Daddy’s medical bag is tied to the saddle!”

“But where’s Daddy? He isn’t on Pal’s back.”

Tharyn eased Beth Ann’s feet to the floor. “I’ll be right back, honey.”

Quickly, Tharyn put on her coat and darted out the door, slipping and sliding some in the snow. When Pal saw her, he stopped, whinnied, and bobbed his head.

Inside, Beth Ann watched her mother move up to Pal and take hold of the reins. She hurried to the hall closet, put on her coat and a scarf, and moved through the door, closing it behind her. By the time she was off the porch, her mother was leading Pal toward the small barn and corral behind the house.

Tears flowed down Beth Ann’s cheeks as she plodded through the snow behind her mother and Pal. Something had happened to her daddy.

Their next-door neighbor, Dale Yarbro, was shoveling snow from his back porch when he saw Tharyn leading the horse toward the barn, and little Beth Ann running behind her as best she could through the snow, sobbing.

Tharyn and Pal were passing through the gate of the small corral, when Tharyn looked back as the sound of Beth Ann’s sobs met her ears.

Coming up behind the child was Dale Yarbro. He picked her up, said something to her, and hurried toward Tharyn.

As Dale rushed up, he said, “Tharyn, what’s wrong?”

Tharyn asked him to come inside the barn. When they were inside, Dale placed Beth Ann in her mother’s arms, and while he was removing the medical bag, saddle, and bridle from Pal, Tharyn told him the story.

Dale said, “I’ll go to the clinic and tell Dr. Braden that Pal has come home with Dane’s medical bag still tied to the saddle. Then I’ll go tell Marshal Merrell.”

Tharyn thanked him, and after feeding Pal and pumping water into the trough inside the barn, she took Beth Ann back to the house.

An hour later, Tharyn and Beth Ann saw Marshal Jake Merrell riding up to the house. They met him at the door, invited him in, and they sat down together in the parlor.

“Surely Dr. Dane has found shelter somewhere to wait out the storm,” said the marshal. “He must’ve left the horse outside of wherever he was holed up, and something spooked him. He must’ve galloped away, and just decided to find his way home.”

Tharyn sighed. “I hope that’s the way it happened.”

Merrell gave her an assuring smile. “I’ll put together a band of townsmen to search for your husband, Mrs. Logan. We’ll head out as soon as the storm is over. It wouldn’t do any good to start out now.”

“I appreciate that, Marshal.”

“Dr. Dane would be wise enough to seek out some kind of shelter when that storm hit. He might have gone into a cave. There are plenty of those in these mountains.”

Tharyn held Beth Ann close and blinked back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes as she gave the marshal a tenuous smile. “I’m sure you’re right, Marshal, but I won’t draw an easy breath until I see Dane walk into this house.”