They Called Her Mrs. Doc. (28 page)

But Joseph’s Sallie Jo and Adam were a great joy to their grandparents and spent as much time as possible at the house. The old swing in the yard had to be repaired, and the sandbox was filled with fresh sand.

Samuel even bought some new toys, since trucks and cars were now all the rage rather than the wagons their own children had played with.

Sallie Jo was a dainty little girl, full of energy and intriguing questions.

“Why do geese fly like that?”

Her grandfather studied the vee in the sky and tried to explain simply.

“If it works like that, why didn’t God tell the other birds?” she wanted to know.

Grandfather had no answer to that question.

Sallie Jo studied the geese for a moment longer and then asked again, “Who chooses the leader? Do they have a ’lection?”

Cassandra smiled, wondering how Samuel was going to answer that one.

“You know,” he said. “I’ve heard that they don’t have just one leader. They work well together. One takes the lead—we’ll say it’s a big gander—though it might not be, but it has to be a big strong bird to lead the way through the sky. Then when his wings begin to tire, another goose moves in and takes his place and he drops back into the vee where it isn’t quite as hard bucking the air current and rests a bit as he flies. Then another might take the lead for a while—and another.”

Sallie Jo gazed upward at the geese. They were disappearing in the afternoon haze.

“Sort of like in church, huh?” she commented and her grandfather frowned slightly.

“We change leaders too. You told us about Pastor Ray getting old and tired so now Pastor Shriver is here. When he gets tired, someone else will come. And in Sunday school, Mrs. Peters isn’t gonna teach anymore. I heard her say to Mrs. Walters, ‘Let the younger set take over. I’ve had my turn.’ ”

Samuel smiled at the granddaughter he called Pixie and ran his hand over her head of brown curly hair.

Sallie Jo looked steadfastly at her grandfather, hazel eyes so much like Samuel’s.

“But one shouldn’t fall back into the vee until you really need a rest, should you?” she added solemnly. “That would be quitting too soon.”

“Right,” he said, nodding vigorously. “Right. One shouldn’t quit too soon. Just like the geese.”

Cassandra wondered if the small girl didn’t have more sense than many adults.

Every letter from Peter in faraway Africa brought them information on the needs of the people. Cassandra knew that Joseph and Ann gave as generously to the support of the mission’s medical work as she and Samuel did.

But the letter she was holding in her hand held more than just a report on needs of the small clinic. Cassandra’s eyes opened wide and her heart began to beat foolishly as she read his words.

“I have met a nurse,” he began. “She works with the same mission right here in our little hospital. She is from the U.S., Michigan, in fact, and, Mama, you would approve of her. She’s wonderfully sensitive and caring. She loves the Lord and is careful to ask for His guidance before she leaps in and makes decisions—and besides all that—she has lovely blue eyes and a wonderful smile.”

“Oh, God,” breathed Cassandra, hugging the letter to her heart. “You know how I have prayed for a good companion for Peter. Perhaps this is your answer to my prayers.”

She turned her attention back to the letter.

“We have been seeing a good deal of each other. Our work really doesn’t leave us much time for socializing; but when we do have some free time, we go for walks or just sit in the cool of the hospital veranda and chat. This usually doesn’t happen until after the sun goes down because of our long days, so it can actually be cool at times.

“We haven’t made any definite plans as yet, but I am seriously considering making some. It would be so wonderful to have a dedicated mate—both a work-mate and a soul-mate. She is really very special.”

Cassandra could not wait for Samuel to come home. She removed her apron, tucked the letter into her dress pocket, hurriedly pinned on her bonnet and rushed off down the board sidewalk to his office. She knew he would be as excited as she was.

Samuel and Cassandra continued working side by side in the little office and came home at night to the serenity of their small home. As the years passed, they were no longer on the edge of the town. It had grown up all around them until they were in the middle of any hustle and bustle the small town could boast.

With greater frequency, Samuel brought in a young doctor to care for the practice while the Smiths took two or three weeks to go visit with their grandchildren. That way they were able to more or less keep up with the happenings in the lives of their offspring.

Peter did marry his Rachel. Cassandra was so thankful that Peter was no longer without human companionship. “I know that God was present with you,” she wrote, “but it is so nice to know that you have Rachel’s presence as well.”

Cassandra and Samuel did not get to meet her until the couple came home on furlough. They heartily agreed with his assessment of his helpmate and were open in telling him so.

Peter smiled and put his arm around Rachel’s waist, drawing her close.

“And we are to have our first child,” he informed them, “next June.”

Cassandra Elaine was born on June 26. Wonderfully hale and hearty—and many, many miles away from her grandparents on the other side of the world.

Peter and Rachel added two boys to their family, and Vivian, after thinking for ten years that their family was complete, had another boy as well. That gave Cassandra and Samuel a total of fourteen grandchildren.

“That is enough!” said Samuel in mock consternation, and Cassandra smiled. None of their children had reached the number of five—as she and Samuel had.

Even so, Cassandra was willing to agree with Samuel. Fourteen was enough. The older ones were all set to graduate from high school and were already making plans as to what they wished to do in life. Daily Cassandra and Samuel prayed that God would be allowed to give them His guidance.

Cassandra didn’t feel comfortable driving the car, so Samuel had hitched the horse to the buggy. He still kept horses. There were many times when a car would not have gotten him to the farmhouse where he was needed.

He preferred the car, but when the weather was uncooperative and the mud or snowdrifts deep on the prairie roads, he knew he could still count on his horses to get him through.

But Cassandra drove the buggy as much for enjoyment as for necessity. She loved the feel. Loved the air. Loved the quiet. Loved the solitude. So when arrangements were made for her to travel out to see Mrs. Fleming to change the dressing on her leg, Samuel did not even need to ask if she preferred taking the buggy. He hitched the trustworthy bay rather than the spirited black and brought the buggy to their hitching rail.

“I’ll be home in plenty of time to prepare your supper,” Cassandra informed him and kissed him on the cheek.

The shock of hair that still slipped over his forehead was silver-gray now. Cassandra found it just as attractive as when he had been a young man. She raised a hand to run her fingers through the hair, a bit thinner now but not a lot, and pushed it back into place.

“Take your time,” he said to her, knowing how much she enjoyed short drives in the country.

She changed the dressing on the leg, concerned that the sore was not healing as it should be, then washed her hands and joined Mrs. Fleming at her kitchen table. They were new people to the area and Cassandra felt they needed to be shown special friendship while they got acquainted with new neighbors.

They sipped coffee, though Cassandra had never tasted such bitter coffee, and chatted. The woman seemed hungry for companionship and Cassandra kept one eye on the clock, knowing that she should be on her way home but reluctant to leave until the woman had enjoyed a good visit.

I must come more often,
she thought as she finally excused herself.

The woman walked with her to the buggy, still talking, still unable to say her goodbye. At last Cassandra had to take leave and the woman stood and waved until the buggy had left the lane and was back on the country road. Cassandra saw her wave one last time, turn and walk toward her house, limping slightly on the troublesome leg.

“She does need company,” Cassandra mused. “Poor soul. I must tell Virginia. She has more time for neighborhood calls then I do and is awfully good about taking in a cake or some cookies. I’m sure she’d go.”

Cassandra looked at the sky. It was late in the afternoon. She was late. Samuel would surely beat her home. He’d be wondering where his supper was long before she returned.

She pushed the mare, coaxing her into a brisk trot. The road was rutted and the buggy bounced, but Cassandra braced herself and clucked to the mare again.

She was almost to the edge of town when the accident happened. If she had not been so preoccupied with hurrying home, she likely would have seen the covey of partridges. But she was concerned about Samuel’s late supper. The mare didn’t seem to notice the birds either. Not until there was a whirring of wings and a splash of color and movement as the whole flock lifted at the same time and seemed to spin into multiple directions.