To Everything a Season (8 page)

“Will he ever walk again?”

“Not for a long time, but yes, he'll walk. I will advise him against running, though. Who knows what jarring will do to the nail.”

“I'm glad. He's such a handsome young man.”

Astrid paused, staring at her. “Annika, he's a bank robber.”

“A handsome bank robber. Isn't everyone God's child?”

Annika hardly knew Astrid's mor, but she sounded so much like Ingeborg!

“Yes, I agree. He is God's child, the same as we.” Astrid smiled to herself.
Well, God, when you deliver a message, you manage to
surprise me with it.

The next morning, Astrid did rounds as quickly as she could, for she wanted to go out to visit her mor and far. Mostly, she simply could not wait to tell Ingeborg about the lesson on judgment that God had sent her.

But her mother beat her to it. Ingeborg showed up at the hospital bright and early. “I heard they caught one of the robbers last night, and he is just a child.”

“That's true. Perhaps we can find some coffee and sit for a few minutes. I want to tell you about the—”

“I heard that,” came Mrs. Geddick's voice from the kitchen. “Please sit.”

They chuckled at each other and sat.

Astrid sobered. “The boy was holding the robbers' horses. Anner spooked them and the boy was thrown. Broke his leg. I don't know if the break became complex immediately or if it happened as they dragged him to the hospital. They were pretty
rough with him. I have him in traction. I hope we can save his leg, but we'll probably have to amputate.”

Ingeborg wagged her head. “So sad. Imagine how his poor mother must feel. Somewhere.”

“She's dead. As the anesthesia was wearing off, he became very talkative. I don't think he realized what he was saying at all. The other three thieves are his brothers. This is how they supported their father until they left home.”

Ingeborg's mouth dropped open.

Here came Mrs. Geddick with rolls and coffee and set the tray down. “You received a call while you were on rounds. The sheriff wants to know when he can come arrest your robber.”

Astrid sighed. “It will be a while. He won't be able to get up on crutches for several weeks. And that's when the healing will just begin.”

Ingeborg frowned. “You'll keep him here in the hospital?”

“I don't know.” Astrid wagged her head. “Almost all our beds are full now. What if we need that one? I did learn to curb my tendency to jump to quick judgments. Well, not exactly. God forced the lesson on me.”

Astrid smiled at the coffee cup in front of her and just sat for a few moments. “Mor, he doesn't want to be a bank robber. As I said, he was delirious for a while, ranting. To condense half an hour of rambling down to a sentence, he's mad at his brothers, and he knows what they do is wrong, but he doesn't know how to get out of it. Incidentally, he's not quite thirteen yet.”

“Twelve years old. No wonder he doesn't know how to free himself. Still a child.”

“How well he heals will depend on how persevering he is. It will be a long hard struggle.”

“Weeks? Months? How long?” Ingeborg looked so sad that it made Astrid sad.

“At least two months. I don't know. I tried something that hasn't been done. I realize now I should have used two small nails to stabilize the bone so that it can't twist or swivel. I doubt it will ever heal well, and he'll probably end up an amputee despite our efforts, and that will be still another month. Quite possibly the snow will fly before he's ready to go to trial.”

“You can't keep him in the hospital that long.”

“I know.” Perhaps she should have just kept him drowsy on morphine until he died. Heavens, no! What could she be thinking? But the uncertainties of all this weighed her down so heavily.

“He is a child who needs help. We will help him. When he is well enough to leave the hospital, he will stay with your far and me.”

I
'm sorry, Sheriff Meeker, but the boy is unconscious. Has been ever since the surgery last night to repair that leg.” Astrid stood at the door to the boy's room, one of the few private rooms they had. She didn't mention that they were keeping him sedated to help with the pain.

“I understand, Dr. Bjorklund, but you have to look at my point of view. His brothers might come back for him, you know.”

“They don't have any idea if he is dead or alive.”

“I'm sure they will be checking. He can give us valuable information about their whereabouts. They aren't stupid, you know.” He lifted his hat and scrubbed the palm of his hand over his less-than-abundant hair before settling his hat back.

Astrid wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep for hours. It had been a long night after the surgery, with Reverend Solberg showing up to pray while the rest of them worked to get the boy's leg in the traction splint. When he started to come out of the anesthetic, he had been so restless they were afraid that in spite of the splint, he might make the injury worse. That's when she and Elizabeth had decided to keep him as far under as needed. But what to do now?
Lord, I do need wisdom here.
I am in over
my head, that's for sure.
But her first job was to care for her patient. And protect him.

“Sheriff, I do understand, but . . .” She heaved a sigh. “Can you wait for an hour or so? He might be waking by then, and I will permit you to ask him some questions. If he'll be able to answer, I don't know.”
Do I tell him what the boy
said yesterday under anesthesia or not?
She looked up at the sound of a door.

“Don't worry. That's my deputy. I am going to get some breakfast at the boardinghouse, and he will remain here. Besides catching those crooks, my job is to keep you all safe.”

I
wish you had thought of that earlier.
But what could she say? After all, the people of Blessing had not requested help. Pictures of a big bird with its head in the sand floated through her mind. That had indeed been all of them. “Thank you.”

“I'll leave Jason here by the door if you have a chair. I can't cover the outside doors. Another thing. I'll probably deputize some of the men of Blessing to fill in.”

Astrid nodded. There was no way she could dredge up a smile at this point. She went to fetch a chair from another room, set it in place, and then joined their head nurse, Deborah MacCallister, at the boy's bedside. “Annika was a great help yesterday. She's a bright student.”

“This is a great place to learn the basics. The training was so good, I could complete nursing school in one fall and winter. I've learned that it normally takes at least two years.” Deborah checked the boy's pulse. “I think he is starting to come around.”

Astrid wrapped her fingers over the boy's toes. They were not turning blue, so the splinting was not too tight, but they were very cold. She wrapped a baby blanket around his foot, for a quilt would have been too heavy.

“Deborah,” she asked quietly, “have I made the right deci
sion to try to save his leg like that, or is it just going to cause more infection?”

“We have to trust that God is leading us,” Deborah whispered.

“Thanks for the reminder.”

“Your mor taught me that when she and Elizabeth were training us. She said you pray, do what you can, and trust God's Word when Jesus promised to never leave us nor forsake us. She reminded me of that just the other day.”

“Thank you, I guess.” She studied their patient. His eyelids were indeed fluttering. He whimpered and rolled his head from side to side. She laid a hand on his arm and leaned closer. “Take it easy. You are safe here.”

“N-no.”

The two women exchanged looks over the boy's bed.
What do we do?
Deborah mouthed.

Astrid shrugged. The choices: Keep him sedated and tell the sheriff to come later, or let him question the child, for that was what he was. A child. “Can you hear me?”

A brief nod.

“Good. Then listen carefully. You are in a hospital with a badly broken leg. You will have to stay here for an extended period of time, a long time, to recover from the break and from the surgery we did on your leg. I am Dr. Bjorklund. What is your first name?”

With his eyes still closed, he mumbled something.

“Did you say Manny?”

A tiny nod.

From the other side of his bed, Deborah spoke up. “I am your nurse. You may call me Miss MacCallister, or Nurse MacCallister. If you are hungry, I'll go fix something for you to eat, but you have to lie flat here with your bad leg up in the air. If you understand, please nod. Good. We'll start with a little bread
and jam. That should be easy to eat.” She started to leave but then stopped at the door. “Do you suppose Manny is short for Manasseh?” Astrid asked. At his slight shudder, she left, nodding.

“Manny. Can you open your eyes?”

The lids fluttered and slowly opened. Fear leaped out at her. His hands clenched in the sheet covering him, grime imbedded so deeply that soap and a washcloth had failed to remove it. His hair hung in strings, and the odor of his body had nothing to do with infection. “The sheriff is coming back to ask you some questions, but he can't hurt you.”

He jerked his head up, but when the pain blasted him, he collapsed against the pillow.

“They ran off and left you behind, Manny.”

His head quivered more than shook.

“I'm sorry, but that is the truth.”

Desolation overrode fear. He closed his eyes again.

“I will stay with you while the sheriff is here.”

He clamped his teeth down on his lower lip, the trembling from either the pain or the fear, or both. She wasn't sure.

She recognized the man's voice in the hall and went to the door. Hearing a noise behind her, she turned to see Manny trying to sit up. “Come in,” she said as she flew back to stop him. Again he collapsed, this time drenched in sweat. “His name is Manny, and he's in a great deal of pain. Please make this quick so we can give him the pain meds he needs so desperately.”

Sheriff Meeker stopped at the foot of the bed. “What is your last name, boy?” Manny shook his head, his jaw tight.

“You're part of the McCrary gang, aren't you. Most likely the youngest brother. Your brothers, if you can call them that, hightailed it out of town, leaving you behind to go to jail. You tell me where they are hiding out, and I'll leave you to the good graces of Dr. Bjorklund here.”

“No!” The effort put into the word made him pant.

No matter what Sheriff Meeker said, Manny only answered no, and after a few questions, he just shook his head, eyes closed.

“I'll be back. One more thing. You cooperate with me, and I'll make sure you don't go to jail. You think on that.” He turned and walked out, leaving a message with the man at the door.

He's only doing
his job
, Astrid reminded herself more than once as she prepared a syringe to administer the morphine that would make the boy relax.

Deborah brought in a tray and set it on the stand by the bed. “Can he eat?” At Astrid's nod, she broke off a small piece of bread and held it to his hand. “You can feed yourself, Manny.” Slowly his eyes opened and he stuffed the bread into his mouth. Swallowing that, he reached for more. After half the slice and a sip of water, his eyes drifted shut again and he slept.

“I wonder how long it's been since he's eaten. Skinny as he is makes me think food has been scarce.”

“Considering how long they've been on the run . . . or probably as the smallest, he is the last to eat and not much is left for him.” Astrid checked his pulse. “Do you think those scum will come back for him?”

“Absolutely. If they fear he might give them away.”

Astrid shook her head. “I'll look in on Mr. Valders, and then I am going home. You call me if you need me.”

Waves of weariness threatened to drown her as she stepped into another room. Anner Valders lay wide awake. He looked toward her and grabbed the ice bag on his head before it slid off. There was no visible sign of his wounds, for painfully broken ribs do not show. Elizabeth had strapped his chest to make breathing less painful. Astrid felt his forehead. No fever to speak of.

“When can I get out of here?”

“I'd suggest you stay overnight, but that is up to you and Hildegunn. Staying here would be easier on her.”

He tried to move, but then flinched and grunted. “When do I need to decide?”

“Take your time. Rest some more and then see.”

Nodding knocked the ice pack off, and as he scrambled to get it back, he clamped his teeth together.

“Any movements will be pretty painful for a while.”

“How long?”

“At least the first few days. Then it will slowly taper off.”

“I see.”

“Let me know.”

She left the room, stopping to leave instructions with Deborah. “When Hildegunn arrives, tell her that Anner is doing well and what he needs most right now is sleep. I left the decision up to them for when he can leave.”

On the walk home, even the beauty of the morning failed to revive her much. Had she done the right thing in not amputating immediately? Had the idea to use the nail come from her heavenly Father? Or not? The questions kept plaguing her. Trying to reason took more than she had to offer right now.
Thank you
, God, that Elizabeth will be doing evening rounds.
When she reached her bed, she fell across it without even undressing.

That ringing. The telephone. She rolled over and pushed herself to sitting. It stopped. Good.

But one glance out the window and her mind returned full force. If that wasn't early dusk out there, Blessing was under a mighty dark cloud.

“You needn't hurry.” Daniel came through the doorway, a cup of something in his raised hand. “Coffee anyone? Coffee?”

Astrid chuckled. Leave it to her husband. How did she ever get so fortunate as to be married to Daniel Jeffers? “Takk.”

He handed her the cup and sat down beside her. “Feel better?”

“I do.”

“Mother has supper nearly on the table. Looks and smells mighty good.”

Astrid inhaled and drank some of her coffee. “I should have been helping her.”

“You know, you can't work all night and all day too.”

She gave him a false patient look. “Have you heard anything on our patients?”

“Let's see.” Daniel counted on his fingers. “Both of your patients are sleeping. The boy is running a temperature. Anner is snoring. He decided to remain one more night. Three of the other patients went home. Mr. Morris is improving. The carved leg is fitting better so he can walk more. He is using a cane too. Anyone else?”

“No new babies?”

“No. Elizabeth said they are all waiting to celebrate the Fourth of July.” He leaned over and kissed his wife's cheek. “Umm, you smell good.”

“Your nose must be plugged. I am sure I smell like the hospital.”

He dropped another kiss on her shoulder and got to his feet. He held out his hand, she took it, and together they strolled down the staircase.

“Thank you,” she said at the bottom of the stairs. “That was a nice waking-up.”

Amelia Jeffers set the bread plate on the table. “Can you think of anything I missed?” She smiled. “You look better, my dear.” She patted Astrid's hand. After Daniel seated them both, she leaned closer to Astrid. “I went out to see Ingeborg and Haakan, and he is looking so much better. Another true miracle, I think. Ingeborg said for you to call if you need her, and she is praying.”

“I know, and that is such a comfort. Thank you for this lovely meal.” She looked up from dishing up her plate when the telephone jangled. Sure enough, their ring. She motioned for the other two to stay seated and went to answer it.

It was Deborah. “Astrid, Manny is asking for you, but if you are eating, finish your supper first. His temperature is rising.”

“Is the deputy still there?”

“A different one is.”

“And why are you still there?”

“I'm just finishing up and bringing Annika up to date.”

“All right. I'll be over in a bit. You might have Annika put some ice in a wet cloth and place it under Manny's neck. Are there any other signs of infection?” At the negative, she hung up and returned to the dining room, taking her seat again, this time with a sigh.

“Getting worse?”

She nodded. “Hopefully not much.”
Please, Lord, take care of this
.

Later a small group of men gathered at the newspaper office, where the discussion, of course, centered around the robbery.

“All that for a measly fifty-five dollars,” Thorliff huffed as he shook his head.

“We can thank God it wasn't more,” Garth Wiste said quietly.