“What now, daughter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Perhaps I have some information that might help the doctor. May I stay and speak to him?”
Clarence took out his chain watch and studied it. “Your mother will have supper on shortly.”
“I’m not at all hungry, Father,” Tariana said. “I would like to see the doctor.”
“He went off on a call – the Benderson family, I believe. It appears the youngest has a touch of something-or-other.”
“I’ll wait here until he returns.”
“As you wish.” He motioned to Cherise and Samantha. “Come along girls. Your mother will want you to set the table. I’m sure Frances will be useless today.”
Tariana paced the wooden planks on the floor of the office long after the Frost family had left for home, leaving Nurse Betty to keep vigil over Michael. Finally, she popped her head into the adjoining hospital room.
“I can sit with him if you’d care to slip out for some food. I don’t mind,” Tariana offered.
“I’m not sure I should leave until Doc gets back,” she said. “But I do have this mess to clean up before the blood hardens.”
Tariana walked into the room and stared at Michael. “Is he doing all right?”
“The leg will mend, and his breathing is more regular now. The boy nearly drowned, but his head got the worst of it. It’s swelling under the cloth bandage we wrapped him in. Doc doesn’t like that he won’t wake up.”
“I could talk to him,” Tariana said. “Do you think he can hear me?”
“Perhaps. Sometimes I think the rambling folks do under these circumstances helps to heal the soul of the talker more than wake the patient, but science has proven neither.” She nodded to a nearby chair. “Pull it over close and maybe save your taking for the Almighty.” Nurse Betty gathered the surgical equipment onto a tray, left the room, and closed the door behind her.
Tariana sat alone with Michael and the Lord. She figured she’d talk to both of them at the same time. The most urgent requests came first, and when she felt the heavens could stand no more of her ranting, she reached for Michael’s hand. Thanksgiving poured out for this man’s life and his strong character. He was a willing servant when it came to spreading the Good News, encouraging of the needy, and working hard to succeed in reaching his goals. Surely, the Lord needed such men to further His Kingdom on earth. With her praise list completed, she proceeded to unload all of the dirty little schemes she’d carried out over the past six months, designed to place a wedge between Michael and Frances.
Tariana hoped the nurse’s uncertainty as to the level of awareness unconscious patients experienced was correct. It had never been her plan to reveal the nasty side of her character, especially to Michael.
She dampened a cloth and wiped droplets of sweat from his face. It was a warm evening. Even the usual cool air that breezed into the community off the water that time of day seemed stifled and impenetrable. She went to the window and fanned herself, watching as the business owners closed up their shops. Many of the Euro-Americans settling there had brought with them unique skills, and the small settlement of Willamette Valley, planted so many years ago, now provided all the necessary ingredients for a good, rich life.
Tariana loved the life her Father had provided his family in Oregon City, and she fully supported his missionary efforts. The splendor of the falls, the mountains, the river, and the abundant forested land rife with wildlife intrigued her and drew her closer to the Creator. Most residents were decent people with the exception of the odd scallywag or drifter who caused an uproar and kept the orderly, new Sherriff Starnes on his toes. How long had it been since she’d reflected on the good and decent? Perhaps playing in the devil’s field of jealousy had cost her more than that for which she’d bargained. She heard the door open and spun around.
“Doctor Shamar,” she cried, closing the distance between them. “You must be exhausted. How ever do you keep the pace?”
“I have my nurse and people like you who sit with my patients.” He walked toward the bed. “Any improvement?”
“Not that I see. I’ve talked myself senseless, but there’s no response. I am worried that he won’t wake up.”
“Here, I thought you were worried he would, and you’d be the next Mrs. Frost.”
“Oh no! I won’t break my sister’s heart. I’ve so much to repent over.”
Frances’s voice sounded from the doorway. “If I hadn’t heard it with my own lips, I’d never have believed those words came from your mouth.”
“Ladies, just me give ten minutes with Michael and you can both set up vigil for a few hours – I’m ready for a nap.”
“How is the young Benderson girl?” Tariana asked.
“Not good I’m afraid. Her fever isn’t breaking, and I’ve ordered the family to stay home in case someone else comes down with it. We don’t need a deadly plague on our hands.”
“But you’ve been there, and now you’re here…with Michael.” A look of horror descended on Frances.
“I am the doctor, and know hygiene practices, my dear. I washed my hands so many times with soap
