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Olive pulled Sarah aside before breakfast and slid her arm about Sarah’s waist. “Sarah, did you not sleep well last night?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Oh, my dear. You have such dark smudges under your eyes.”
“Do I?”
“My, yes. Is everything all right? You do not seem quite yourself.”
Sarah shrugged uneasily. Olive had touched upon a nerve, for Sarah had not slept well. Instead, she had tossed and turned, fretting over her argument with Corrine and the strange memories that had followed. When she finally did nod off, the disturbing scenes she recalled the previous afternoon had stymied her attempts to sleep. Even now, she was distracted, her thinking troubled and agitated.
Unwilling to reveal the harsh words she had said to Corrine, Sarah instead answered, “I-I had some bad dreams last night.”
“Dreams?”
“Worse than dreams. Memories from my childhood. Awful things. Things I had forgotten.”
“Remembrances from your childhood?”
“Yes. From when my mother became sick and . . . when she married my stepfather and left me in his care after she died. I do not know how it is that I forgot those terrible happenings or why, yesterday, I suddenly remembered them, but they were so—” Sarah could not finish.
“Your stepfather? Was he . . . did he?”
“I cannot bear to speak of it, Olive.”
“Perhaps you could talk to Miss—”
“No. No, please do not tell Miss Rose. I do not wish to dredge up what is in the past. Let it stay there! Promise me you will not say anything to her, Olive? Please?”
Looking a little uncertain, Olive nodded her acquiescence. “All right. But I shall pray for you, Sarah. I do not like seeing you so peaked.”
They went into the dining room for breakfast then, but Sarah dreaded going to work that morning and facing her friend. She wondered if their disagreement of the previous day would come up or if they would both treat it as water under the bridge.
***
WATER UNDER THE BRIDGE? It was not to be.
When Corrine arrived at the shop, Sarah was forced to admit to herself how deeply she had wounded her friend: Corrine was not her normally cheerful self. She was reserved. Careful. And withdrawn.
A cloud hung between the two women.
It is my fault, Sarah conceded. I was unkind and outspoken. Cruel. And I do not understand why I would be cruel to Corrine, because I love her as a sister. She is my dearest friend.
“I-I wish to say that I am sorry, Corrine,” Sarah finally whispered after an hour of uncomfortable strain between them. “I am sorry for what I said yesterday. I . . . I allowed my emotions to get the better of me. I should be more careful of what I say.”
Corrine, usually so quick to forgive and cover over the little failures of others, considered Sarah, and Sarah was discomfited with what she saw reflected back.
When Corrine answered, she said, “I know you are sorry, dear friend. I know you do not mean to be harsh.”
“And yet?”
Corrine nodded. “Yes, I wish to say something.”
Sarah licked her lips. “All right.”
“I prayed for you last evening, Sarah. I said nothing to Albert, of course, but after supper, I spent the evening alone in our room, praying for you, trying to understand what happened yesterday, asking our Lord for his help and wisdom. I think, that is, I believe he may have whispered a word to me . . . for you.”
“Oh?”
Corrine took Sarah by her hands. “I love you, Sarah. Nothing I say is intended to wound you.”
Sarah’s nerves jangled a warning. In the many years she and Corrine had been friends, Corrine had never been as serious as she was at this moment.
Corrine began, “Scripture tells us that our mouths speak what our hearts are filled with. I do not believe the problem to be so much what you said yesterday or even what took place between you and the two gentlemen, but rather what those events revealed, dear Sarah.”
Sarah did not answer, but her chin began to tremble. She did not relish Corrine poking about in her private, inmost parts.
Corrine pressed her point. “The passage I speak of is found in Luke 6:45. It tells us, A good man out of the good treasure of his heart bringeth forth that which is good; and an evil man out of the evil treasure of his heart bringeth forth that which is evil: for of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaketh.
“Sarah, it is what is in our hearts that comes out of our mouths. The hurtful things you said? They came from your heart.”
“I-I do not understand.”
Corrine put her head to one side. “Do you mean you do not understand the verse or are you saying that you do not understand what is in your heart?”
“That. M-my heart.” Sarah’s insides were churning; she felt as if her lungs were being squeezed and would soon burst. “Are you . . . are you saying my heart is evil?”
“I know that Jesus has saved you, Sarah, just as he has saved me. We came to Jesus together, and he has made us new creatures in him. It is possible, nonetheless, as Christians, to hold back pieces of our heart from Jesus, aspects of our lives we refuse to surrender to him.
“This verse says we store up treasure in our hearts—either good treasure or evil treasure. Well, what do people do with their treasures? Do we not guard them? Keep them hidden? Protected? Safely locked away? But, no matter how hard we try to keep our treasures locked away, those things fill our hearts to overflowing until they come out of our mouths. If our treasures are good, then good words come out of our mouths; if our treasures are evil, then evil comes out in our words . . . words that injure others.
“When I was praying for you last night, I felt the Lord whisper that you have locked something away in your heart that is part of your old life, your ‘old man.’ I do not know what it is. Perhaps you do not know what it is either, but Sarah? It is an evil thing.
“I have known you a long time, my sister, and this is what I have witnessed: Given the ‘right’ conditions, you are easily affronted, easily angered. And when you are angered, this evil thing lurking in your heart rushes out of your mouth, wounding whomever is near, even your dearest friends, but wounding yourself, too. I would say, in fact, that you suffer the most harm—for although you tamp down the anger after each incident, it does not leave, it does not go away. Rather, it continues to grow . . . and strengthen. As your friend, I must speak the truth in love: I have observed this behavior worsen lately.”
Sarah’s breath came in great gasps, and her eyes streamed tears.
Corrine drew Sarah to herself, wrapped her arms about her, and held her tight. O Lord, Corrine prayed. Please speak through me.
She whispered, “I am afraid for you, Sarah. Whatever you are holding onto in your heart, it is poisoning you—and I do not think it will be satisfied until it has destroyed you. Please. Please seek the Lord. Ask him to reveal this ugly, destructive thing to you so that you can surrender it to him, so he can free you from its hold.”
Sarah clung to Corrine; she seemed to crumple in on herself. Lord? Is Corrine right? Am I harboring something evil in my heart? Lord? What is it? What am I to do about it?
***
CORRINE’S GENTLE BUT devastating exhortation affected Sarah deeply. She was troubled in her thoughts far into the evening. Leaving her window up to allow a breeze in, she had, at last, fallen asleep when a strange rattling intruded.
Heart pounding, Sarah sat up. “What is that noise?”
She again heard sharp taps and tings—the sound of small objects striking and glancing off glass, other objects missing glass but thudding nearby. Inside her bedroom. “What? Is someone throwing pebbles at my window? Through my window?”
Sarah threw back her covers and crept to the sill. She leaned forward and looked below.
A dark figure called to her. “Sarah?”
“Mr. O’Dell?”
“Yes. Please come down, Sarah.”
Sarah pulled on her robe and ran, barefooted, down the staircase. She unlocked and opened the front door. “What is it? What is wrong?”
“Joy is sick. A high fever. The doctor is with her, but he cannot stay all night, so I left Joy with him and came to fetch Miss Rose—and you, if you will come. I did telephone, but it rang and rang and no one answered.”
“Mr. Wheatley is the only one on the ground floor, and he is quite deaf while asleep, I am afraid. Miss Rose is typically the house’s lightest sleeper; however, I fear she is overtired at present.”
O’Dell looked at his feet. “I know she is; she worked tirelessly after Jacob’s birth, letting her responsibilities here pile up. It troubles me to burden her further, but Joy is calling for her mother. When I telephoned, and no one answered, I decided to drive here and awaken the entire house, if need be.”
His smile was apologetic. “I saw your open window, so I tossed gravel at it to rouse you rather than pound on the front door and disturb everyone. I hope I did not distress you too much?”
Sarah uttered a soft snort. “You surely did startle me, but I am recovered now. Do you wish me to awaken Miss Rose? And did you say you came to fetch me, too?”
“Yes. Mother Rose will not have the strength to attend to Joy and care for Matthew and Baby Jacob at the same time. I can and will help, of course, but I must be in the office early tomorrow morning for an important meeting. I had hoped you would come to watch the children? Matty is quite attached to you.”
“I cannot leave Corrine at the shop on her own all day. That would not be prudent.”
“We shall close the shop tomorrow, if necessary.”
“Very well—but for one day only. Let me go up and awaken Miss Rose.”
She knocked softly on Rose’s door three times before Rose answered. As Sarah suspected, Rose was slow and bleary-eyed.
“What is it, Sarah?”
“I am sorry to disrupt your sleep, Miss Rose, but Mr. O’Dell is here. Joy is running a fever and is asking for you; the doctor is with her, but he must be in and out as he attends to other patients. Mr. O’Dell asks that you come help nurse Joy, and that I come to care for the children.”
“I shall dress and pack a bag. What of you?”
“I told him I would come, but what of the shop? Mr. O’Dell proposed we close it for the day, but I would hate for Joy to lose out on any sales.”
Rose thought a moment. “Arouse Olive and ask her if she is willing to leave her duties here to assist Corrine tomorrow. If she is agreeable, we shall leave the key and money bag with her. Then please dress and pack a light bag.”
Sarah did as Rose asked. Fifteen minutes later, she was in the rear seat of O’Dell’s motor car, and they were speeding into the night. While they drove, she prayed. Lord, your Son, Jesus, healed many fevers during his ministry on earth. He even healed Peter’s mother-in-law of a fever. I come to you now, in Jesus’ name, and ask that you heal Joy of her fever. Thank you, Lord.
When they arrived at the O’Dell home, Rose told Sarah, “I shall bring Jacob to you as soon as I can convince Joy to let me take him.”
When Rose and O’Dell slipped into the bedroom, leaving her alone, Sarah entered the kitchen, filled the tea kettle, and set it on the gas stove to heat. Five minutes went by. The kettle sang, and Sarah turned the burner down to keep the water hot. She looked through Joy’s well-ordered cabinets and found what she needed to make herself a cup of tea.
Ten more minutes passed before Rose appeared with the baby.
Sarah stood to take the sleeping infant. “How is Joy?” she asked.
“Her fever is quite high; she is agitated and in great discomfort.”
“What does Dr. Murphy say?”
“Dr. Murphy was unable to come, so he sent his new associate. The doctor examined Joy and believes that a portion of the afterbirth remained within her and is putrefying, causing infection and fever. He said it is imperative that this piece of afterbirth come out.”
“What can he do for that?”
“At present, he is massaging Joy’s lower abdomen to stimulate cramping, hoping her body will expel the portion on its own. It is quite painful. I could not bear to watch it any longer.”
Sarah pursed her lips. “And if the afterbirth does not come out?”
“The doctor said he would attempt to remove it . . . manually.”
“A surgery?”
“Yes. To . . . to scrape it out.”
Sarah shuddered. “Miss Rose, we should pray.”
“Oh, yes. Thank you, Sarah.”
With Jacob cradled between them, Sarah and Rose cried out to the Lord for his help. Sarah prayed specifically that Joy’s body would expel the infected tissue as it was meant to and that the doctor would not find it necessary to perform a dangerous surgery.
Afterward, Sarah made Rose a cup of tea and left her sipping it to look in on Matthew. She carried Jacob with her. When she found Matty in a sound sleep, she tucked Jacob into the bassinet opposite Matty’s little bed and returned to the kitchen.
Possibly an hour later, a haggard O’Dell entered the kitchen. “The doctor believes he was successful. Given a day or so, he believes her fever should abate.”
“Thank the Lord,” Rose breathed.
“Yes. Thank you, Lord!” Sarah agreed.
“The doctor is packing up. He will return later; however, Joy requires a change of linens.”
“Let me,” Sarah responded. “Miss Rose, perhaps you could lie down with Matty on his bed? You need your rest.”
“No, no. I shall help you change Joy.”
“No, please, Mother Rose,” O’Dell said in all gentleness. “I shall assist Sarah. Please do as she suggests. You will be wanted in the morning.”
Rose nodded. “Very well. Sarah, I shall show you where the basin and washcloths are first.”
“And I shall gather the fresh linens,” O’Dell added.
The doctor was gone when O’Dell and Sarah entered the bedroom. Joy, flushed with fever, appeared to be sleeping, until she moaned and thrashed in pain.
“I realize it is unconventional for a married man and a single woman to do this work together,” O’Dell murmured, “but I could not ask Miss Rose to do more until she has slept. I did not realize how worn she is. Perhaps you could bathe Joy and then I could help you change the bedding?”
Sarah laughed under her breath in dark humor. “Without putting too fine a point upon it, Mr. O’Dell, I was rather compelled to overcome such social conventions in my youth.”
“Ah, quite so. Still . . .”
“We shall do as you say, Mr. O’Dell. If you will find an unsullied gown for Joy, I shall bathe her and call you when I have finished to help me change the bed.”
The earliest hint of dawn had crept through the curtains when Sarah and O’Dell completed their chores. O’Dell slipped off to snatch an hour of sleep before he left for the office. Sarah was putting the stained linens into ice water to soak when a high, thin wail caught her ear. She washed her hands and rushed to fetch the baby before he awakened Rose and Matthew.
She returned to the kitchen with the fussing infant and smiled into his angry, red face. “Listen to you, little man! What a racket you make. Shall we change your nappy and see if that satisfies you?”
She changed his diaper and gown, wound him snugly with a blanket, and sat down to rock him close to her heart. For a minute, she cooed little nothings to him, and he stilled. He was less than two weeks old but so alert. Sarah watched, completely engrossed, as he listened and looked for her.
“What a good baby,” she crooned. “What a good little angel you are.”
She yawned, and her eyes drooped. Together, she and the baby slept.
***
SARAH WOKE WHEN A WET finger poked her neck. She was growing rather accustomed to being awakened in this mode. She cracked one weary eye, and the wet finger retreated into a little mouth.
“Good morning, Matthew O’Dell.” Sarah yawned. “Goodness. I guess I fell asleep.”
Matthew pointed with a slobbery index. “’Cub.”
“That’s right. Baby Jacob. Would you like to sit in my lap with your brother?”
Matthew proved his adept climbing skills by clambering up the front of the chair. Sarah tucked him into the crook of her free arm. As Sarah set the rocker moving back and forth, Matthew nestled his head against her shoulder, and Sarah put her cheek to his soft hair.
Lord, is this what heaven is like?
***
AN HOUR LATER, JACOB O’Dell awakened.
Hungry.
Screaming.
Like a wild banshee.
“Oh, my goodness,” Sarah groaned. “How can such a big noise come from such a teeny body? And I am so very sorry, Master Jacob, but I do not have what you need. Please be patient just a few minutes.”
The household was up now. O’Dell flew out the door, Rose took Jacob in to Joy to nurse, and Sarah fixed a small pot of creamed wheat cereal for Matthew’s breakfast. When Rose returned and sat down to help Matthew with his cereal, Sarah—behind Matthew’s back—tipped her head toward the bedroom, asking an unspoken question.
“She is in less pain, thank the Lord, and her fever is coming down.”
“Oh, I am glad!”
“As am I.”
***
IN THE MAIN, ROSE LEFT Jacob with his mother throughout the day, so she could nurse him. Rose removed the baby to change him as needed, allowing Joy to rest in bed and heal. However, Rose was content to let Sarah manage Matthew, declaring that the toddler had “more jump and bounce than six frogs in a bucket.”
So, while Rose cared for Joy’s needs, Sarah kept Matthew occupied. She read him stories, took him on walks to the park, and played tag with him in the O’Dells’ little yard behind their house. She loved every moment of it.
As much as she enjoyed caring for Matthew, the high point of Sarah’s stay with the O’Dells was the conversation she and Rose had during Matthew’s nap. They were sharing a cup of tea and a quiet respite when Rose ventured to confide in Sarah.
“While it is our desire that all of our girls at Palmer House learn good and wholesome work skills, become independent, and are able to leave us and move on with their lives, I must tell you, Sarah, how much I cherish your ongoing and stabilizing presence in our home. With both Joy and Breona married and occupied with their families, you must know how much I lean upon you, Olive, and Marit.”
Sarah flushed with pleasure. “Miss Rose, it is my honor to help you any way I can. I admire you so much.” She looked down. “And I have been wanting to be an assistant at Palmer House for some time.”
Rose cupped Sarah’s cheek with her hand. “The Lord bless you, my daughter. I consider you so already.”
Sarah leaned her cheek into Rose’s hand, soaking up the love she extended so freely. “Miss Rose, you are such a strong and godly woman. I think one of the things I admire most about you is that you do not require a husband to complete you. You are a whole person on your own.”
Rose sighed. “Thank you, Sarah, but I would not have you believe that is completely true.”
Sarah looked up and saw a great sorrow within Rose’s soul. “It is not?”
“No, my dear. While it is true that each of us, when Jesus saves us by his blood, are complete in him, Scripture also tells us that the Lord has said, It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him an help meet for him. God, our Creator, tells us that being alone in this life is difficult. If we are called to singleness—as the Apostle Paul was—then the Lord’s power and grace will enable us to bear our singleness. However, I know from experience that the burdens of this life are lighter and sweeter with a husband’s love and strength.”
Sarah whispered, “I-I may be called to singleness, Miss Rose. I do not desire a husband’s love.”
Rose drew back and studied Sarah. “I wonder . . . how one can say she does not desire what she has never experienced? You told me once that you never knew your father’s love, Sarah. The lack of a father’s love can wound a woman’s heart, even twist it out of its natural shape.
“What I can tell you is that I have lost two husbands in my lifetime, Sarah, and I mourn them both to this day. Yes, I am strong in my faith, but I do not want you to think that it is easy, this being a widow, being single—it is not. I would not trade the joy of those years of marriage for the world.”
She hesitated before finishing her thought. “All that being said, I have determined to make my latter years count for the Cross. I have set my heart and will to be fruitful for God.”
“That is what I want, also, Miss Rose.”
***
LATE THAT AFTERNOON following his nap, Sarah took Matthew to visit Joy and Jacob. Joy was weak from the pain and fever, but she was visibly improved. She allowed Matthew to sit on the bed next to her. While she helped him hold and examine Jacob, Sarah brushed out her long, blonde hair and braided it down her back.
“You have no idea how wonderful it feels to have you run the brush over my scalp, Sarah. Every inch of my skin—even on my head—throbbed when the fever was at its peak. Now my skin aches and itches.”
Sarah set the brush aside and gently massaged Joy’s neck and shoulders. “You must be weary and sore from lying abed.”
“How right you are. I am anxious to regain my strength and return to caring for my family.”
“You must not overtax yourself just yet, Joy. This was a serious infection; your body needs time to recover.”
Rose poked her head through the doorway. “Pardon me, but the doctor is here. He wishes to check in on Joy before he retires for the evening.”
“Please send him in, Mama.”
“I shall withdraw,” Sarah murmured. “Shall I take Matthew with me?”
“Yes, please. I do not know what we would have done without you while I was so sick, Sarah.”
Sarah ducked her head. “It was my pleasure to help. And I am so happy for you—two healthy baby boys. What a blessing.” She tickled Matthew and scooped him off the bed. “Shall we go see your toys, Matty?”
“Yes. Yes, pease, Sar.”
Joy blew him a kiss. “Mama loves you, Matty. You are such a good boy.”
Sarah paused at the bedroom door when Rose reappeared with the doctor. She had forgotten that Palmer House’s longtime physician, Dr. Murphy (now a stately old gent) was not attending Joy. Sarah was shocked when a tall man of significantly younger years followed Rose into the room. Sarah set Matthew on the floor and moved farther to the side, chin down, waiting for the doorway to clear so she could make good her escape.
“How are you feeling this evening, Mrs. O’Dell?”
“Much improved, Doctor Croft, thank you.”
Matthew pulled on Sarah’s hand. “Toys, Sar.”
His unexpected demand drew all eyes to him, including those of the doctor.
“Ah, this must be young Master O’Dell.” He stooped down. “Hello, Matthew. What do you think of your new baby brother?”
Matty nodded with vigor. “’Cub.”
“Jacob. Very good, Matthew.”
As he stood up, his gaze passed over Sarah. And stopped.
Dumbfounded.
Not as stunned as Sarah had been when he entered the room. Her lips had parted in amazement. And mortification. Now, hot color blazed up her neck into her cheeks.
For just an instant, as he recognized her, she saw candid appreciation flicker in his eyes—the same admiration she had seen at the shop. He recovered quickly, however, shuttering his countenance and assuming an air of formality. He bowed. “Dr. Bryan Croft, at your service, miss.”
Sarah did not answer; she was tongue-tied.
Joy broke the awkward silence. “Dr. Croft, this is our dear friend, Sarah Ellinger. Dr. Croft has taken partnership with Dr. Murphy, Sarah. He is quite new to Denver.”
New to Denver.
Nothing Joy said could have stung Sarah more.
As for the man’s response to their second meeting? Outwardly, his comportment was impeccable. Dispassionate and professional. What neither Rose nor Joy could see—what only Sarah saw—was the sardonic light in his narrowed eyes.
And how he bit his bottom lip in an effort to control its twitch as he held out his hand to her.
Is this man laughing at me?
Insufferable scoundrel!
Sarah’s chagrin gave way to indignation. She ignored his extended hand. “Pardon me. I was taking Matthew to his room.”
Realizing he had blocked her egress, Dr. Croft stepped aside. “I see. Do please forgive my second oversight.”
Sarah growled, stood tall, and shepherded Matthew from the room. The sweetness of the day was gone, swept aside by the exasperation smoldering in her breast.
Dr. Croft sighed and nodded to himself before turning to Joy. He set his bag on the side of her bed. “I should like to take your temperature and listen to your heart and lungs, Mrs. O’Dell.”
“But, Dr. Croft, before you do, I cannot help but notice our friend’s discomfort in your presence. May I ask, were you already acquainted with Miss Ellinger?”
“I beg your pardon. I visited your shop a few days past and somehow offended your friend. I apologized for distressing her, however . . .”
He shrugged and did not finish his thought, but Rose and Joy were as mystified as he was at Sarah’s behavior.
Rose, for her part, turned inward. Lord, this is unlike my daughter Sarah. Should I be concerned for her? Perhaps I shall ask Olive if she has any insights into Sarah’s actions of late. Whatever is perturbing her, Lord, I ask that you help her by your Spirit to overcome it.
~~**~~
