The young preacher bounced up and gave an enthusiastic invocation.
“Thank you.” Henry adjusted his spectacles and smiled out over the attendees. “As you know, we are gathered for several reasons. But first, we want to welcome an important—and very needed—new member to our community. Dr. Adam Brownsville would like to say a few words to us.”
Henry stepped aside, and Adam took his place, grateful for the notes in his hand. He hadn’t felt this nervous since his first day of medical school.
“Good evening, citizens of Salton.” He gave what he hoped was a friendly smile, though the faces blurred before him. “I didn’t plan to settle in your town, but each day I am more convinced this is where the Lord led me. When I first met Mr. Caldwell here, he told me you had need of a doctor.” He glanced at his notes, then back up. “He also told me your prior experience with a physician—or with a man claiming to be a physician—had been distressing. Indeed, that this man was a charlatan through and through, and, as I have since learned, was the cause of not only injury but even death to some you held most dear.”
He could sense Mr. Jorgensen’s gaze from the front row. His wife was not present.
“I make no excuses for such a man. He is not worthy to be called a doctor, a title of which the very essence should be to first do no harm. But I stand before you to tell you my desire is to serve this town in a manner completely opposite to that of my predecessor. I am a graduate of Jefferson Medical College in Philadelphia. Following the completion of my studies, I opened my own practice in Illinois and ran it successfully for six years. I am not a perfect doctor, nor can I save every patient. You may have heard that I failed to save the mothers of the children the Nielsen sisters have taken in.”
Murmurs scuttled around the room.
“In fact, I was unable to save even my own wife. She died of pneumonia shortly before I joined the wagon train that led me here.” He glanced down again a moment, pushing down the ache in his chest.
The roomful of people quieted.
“But I can promise you this.” He tried to meet the gaze of every person he could. “I will not lie to you. I will not carelessly experiment on your loved ones. I will do my best always to help, to ease suffering, and, when God allows it, to save lives. For He is the only One who truly has that power.” Adam drew a breath. “I hope to get to know many of you not merely as patients, but as friends. I ask only that you would give me that chance.” He paused a moment, but there seemed to be nothing left to say. “Thank you.”
He sat down, spent. Henry Caldwell returned to the pulpit, and discussion ensued regarding getting the school ready to open in September, advertising for a sheriff, and planning some sort of community harvest celebration for the fall. But Adam couldn’t focus on any of it.
Had his words made any difference? Lord, I’ve done all I can.
26
A growing race had begun in the garden.
Forsythia breathed in the fresh morning air and bent to brush her fingers over the feathery carrot tops waving above the earth. They’d had gentle rain and plenty of sun, just right for these new seedlings. The beets and turnips were sending tender new leaves up, too, and the potatoes had sprouted like weeds. As for the beans, they seemed to be striving to win the race.
“Ready?” Lark spoke from behind her.
Forsythia turned with a smile and tightened her sunbonnet strings. “Ready.”
Lark handed her a spade. “I’ll drive the plow, and you and Lilac can come behind and cut the sod strips.”
Today was the day to cut sod for their addition to the house. Which would mean more room soon, praise be. Even with Lark still sleeping in the wagon, they always seemed to be stepping on each other.
Larkspur hitched three of the oxen to the breaking plow and started on a section of mown prairie grass near where the barn would eventually be built. Following, Forsythia marveled at how the plow’s steel blade cut through the tough sod, slicing off a long strip about four inches deep and—when Lark turned and plowed the other direction—twelve inches wide. She and Lilac came behind with their spades and sliced the sod into bricks about two feet long.
By the time they’d worked for an hour, sweat was pouring down Forsythia’s neck inside her bonnet. She huffed a breath to blow the stray hairs off her face. She fully understood why Lark preferred a straw hat.
“Dr. Brownsville’s here,” Robbie called, running toward them from the house. “Him and Jesse. To help!”
“Wonderful.” Lark turned the oxen for another row. “Sythia, ask them to start carrying the sod bricks over to the house. They’re heavy, so it will help to have the men for that.”
If only she weren’t so sweaty and disheveled. Forsythia wiped grimy hands on her apron and headed for the soddy. Del, with Mikael in her arms, stood chatting with the doctor and Jesse.
“Thank you so much for coming, Doctor.” Forsythia approached them. “When you’re ready, Lark said we could use help lugging the sod bricks we’ve been cutting over to the house. No hurry.”
“We’ll be right over.” Adam turned to her with the smile that always weakened her knees. “I was just telling Del that the town is in need of a schoolteacher. The woman Rev. Pritchard thought he’d found can’t come after all, and the townsfolk want the children to get some schooling in before harvest season pulls them back to the fields.”
“I’d have to take the teacher’s examination to get a certificate, but
