Five

Sam took in the scene at a glance. One man lay unconscious on a stretcher. Others, the walking wounded, presented a variety of injuries: blood pouring from a gash to the head, an arm dangling at the side, all of them shivering. His mind prioritized the wounds, determining who should be helped first. “Take them into the surgery,” he instructed.

John Lauder led the way. Sam was thankful the community leader sought him out when the need arose.

“That fool son of mine loaded the equipment wrong,” Lauder explained. “Our boat capsized. Then we bumped into another boat, and it capsized as well.”

Sam saw the face of the unconscious man on the stretcher—Lauder’s son. From the kitchen, Sam heard the sounds of the water pump. Mama knew what was needed.

“How can I help?” Judith approached Sam.

He studied her. Her face appeared calm, her hands steady. If the injuries unnerved her, she didn’t show it. “Gather blankets.” As she headed away, he added, “Get a strong fire going.”

Mama joined him a moment later, carrying a pail of water. “I set a bucket to heat over the fire,” she told him.

Sam nodded. He worked without thought of time. He sewed wounds and set broken arms. Lauder’s son, Johnny, had received a blow to the back of his head. Sam could do little but keep him warm, wait, and pray. Judith helped his mother bundle the men in blankets and led them to the fire. Exposure to the frigid waters of the ocean could do more harm than the small cuts and bruises most had received. Lauder stacked more wood near the hearth.

The entire time Sam worked, he prayed. Nehemiah prayers, he called them, like the king’s cupbearer who prayed to God and spoke to the king in the same breath. God, help these men. God, heal them. Let young Lauder wake up in sound mind.

By suppertime, everyone had left except for Lauder, who kept vigil by his son’s bed. Judith knocked on the door and entered. A strong scent of cod rose from a pot she carried wrapped in a towel. “Your mother gave me some of the kedgeree she’s fixed for your supper. I must get home before Father worries about me.” She looked at the man on the cot. “I will pray for your son, Mr. Lauder.”

“Excuse me a moment, John.” Sam walked Judith to the door. “You didn’t expect to tarry so long today. Thank you for all your help.”

Judith looked uncomfortable with his praise. “It was the least I could do.”

Sam thought of the women he had met in Hartford, women who would have fainted—or pretended to faint—at the broken bones and blood spatter of the day. “It took courage. Don’t belittle yourself.”

She sucked in a deep breath and looked directly at him. “Nor you, sir. We are blessed to have such a fine physician among us.” She adjusted the pot in her arms and prepared to leave. “The next time I come for a cooking lesson, pray God we do not have a repetition of today’s excitement.”

Sam looked into the depths of her eyes, eyes that stirred him every time he looked at Judith. No matter what she prayed, he would not escape excitement when next they saw each other.

❧

Judith hummed as she made her way to the lighthouse. How could she feel so light at heart when young Johnny lay unconscious in Sam’s surgery? Forgive me, heavenly Father. She prayed for Johnny’s return to health, then considered the reason for her good humor. Sam. From the open way he shared his dreams for his practice in Capernaum, to his obvious reluctance to try her cooking again, to his relieved delight when he tasted the perfect pudding, to his masterful treatment of the men involved in the accident—she found much to admire. She had promised Father to return before nightfall, and already she could see the moon rising over the ocean.

“Where have you been, gal?” Father called as soon as she crested the rise to the lighthouse. “I expected you home before I arose.”

“John Lauder had an accident with his boat today. I stayed to help with the injured men.” Judith walked past Father and arranged the still steaming kedgeree and leftover hasty pudding on the table. “Mary shared her meal with us.”

Father looked in the direction of the Hathaway cottage and grunted. “Who was hurt? How are they doing?”

“Johnny Lauder remains unconscious. We do not know if he will recover. Everyone else has gone home. We are fortunate that Sam was here to help.”

“We’ve always managed without a doctor before,” Father said. “Let’s eat before the food cools.”

Judith wanted to protest the slight on Sam’s skills, but she kept quiet. Father would see Sam’s worth in time.

Judith didn’t return to the Hathaways’ the following day. Mary would have welcomed her company at any time, but Johnny needed their full attention. When Sam knocked on the door on Friday morning during the middle of family devotions, Judith invited him in.

“Good morning.” Sam held out a plate of muffins. “My mother made more than we can possibly eat.”

Sam had taken care with his appearance. He had tied his hair with a ribbon to tame his dark curls. He had dressed as if for Sunday morning, his black coat straining across his broad shoulders, yet he looked at ease with a plate in his hands.

“Come in, Doctor,” Father called out. “Join us as we read the Bible, then state your business.”

“But Father, Sam needs to return to his surgery. He can’t stay away from his patient for long.”

“That’s what I came to tell you. Johnny regained consciousness yesterday morning and he went home last night! I will see him again later today.”

“Praise be to the Lord.”

Father read from Nehemiah.

“Nehemiah is one of my favorite people in the Bible,” Sam said. “I love the way he prayed and then acted boldly.” He commented on the scheme of building the walls. “Much like the town’s decision to build the lighthouse. It was a wise choice.”

Later, when Judith cleaned away the breakfast dishes, Sam headed up to the lantern room with Father. Father shot her a warning look that kept her at the bottom of the stairs. She allowed herself to daydream. Had Sam possibly come a-courting? Such thoughts were wishful thinking. Why would a man as well mannered and educated as Dr. Sam Hathaway want someone like her, a woman who couldn’t even cook? He could have a sweetheart back in Connecticut, waiting for him to send for her. Perhaps Father wanted to ask him about the cankers that erupted on his tongue—thanks to her hit-and-miss approach to salt. Then again—he had dressed as a man wanting to impress a woman, or her father. She argued the matter in her mind as she washed the dishes.

“Judith!”

Judith stopped to listen when she heard her name. Father was shouting. She couldn’t help but hear.

“Judith will never. . .last man. . .no coward—”

Footfalls sped down the stairs. She knew she should move, but she remained rooted to the spot. Sam paused in his headlong descent and stared at her.

“Judith, I had hoped. . .” His eyes conveyed what his words didn’t.

“Be gone with ye!” Father bellowed down the stairs, and Sam took the remaining steps.

Judith followed him to the door, wringing her damp hands on her apron. “Things may yet be well. Give Father time.”

“Is there hope for me then?” Sam asked in a rushed breath.

“There is.” Judith wondered at her own boldness. “Now go, before Father finds you still in the place.”

Sam flashed a smile and left. Buoyed by thoughts of him, Judith floated through the day. He had come courting. Father had thrown him out on his ear. The one man besides Piers who had expressed interest in her. The one man who made her heart race every time she saw him or heard his voice.

Father didn’t mention the confrontation until they finished supper. “Dr. Hathaway asked permission to keep company with you.” Father added a spoonful of honey to his mush and took a bite. “I know you well enough to believe you didn’t do anything to encourage his foolishness.”

Judith shook her head. She didn’t trust herself to speak.

“I told him no coward who was afraid of the sea would ever be good enough for my daughter, not even if he was the last man on earth.”

Judith sat still, refusing to nod in agreement.

“Do you hear me, gal? Find yourself a good, solid, seagoing lad, like our Piers. The doctor is probably a fine man in his own right, but he belongs back ashore.” Father’s face softened. “You’re island-born and raised. Your heart would break if you left the sea.”

Is it true? Judith wondered Would Sam give up on Capernaum and return to Connecticut? She respected her father’s opinion. So why did she feel like her heart would break, whether Sam stayed or went?

Father didn’t speak of the matter again. Mary—dear, kind Mary—had knocked on the door the afternoon following Sam’s visit. She brought a pan of poached cod with egg sauce. “I’ve missed you these past few days for our cooking lessons. I brought you something you can heat for tonight, and perhaps we can meet again next week.” She winked. “There is no need to let the differences between our menfolk interfere with our friendship, now, is there?”

Judith pushed the memory aside. She added biscuits—only slightly overdone tonight—and leftover hasty pudding fried to perfect crispness.

Piers arrived as usual for dinner before his Saturday night shift in the lantern room. He had bathed and donned fresh clothes. He even smelled different. The odor of salt and fish as strong as clam chowder normally permeated his clothing. But tonight, Piers smelled of. . .flowers. He had not come empty-handed; he brought a small ceramic flower pot that held nosegays growing on the island, jack-in-the-pulpits, columbine, triphyllum. All her favorite colors.

“For you.” He bowed.

Judith took the flowers and breathed the scent deeply. “I will put them on the table.”

Piers made sure to praise her cooking.

“Mrs. Hathaway provided the cod,” Judith felt impelled to reveal. “I hope she will teach me how to make the egg sauce next week.”

She expected her father to object to her plan, but he only grunted. “If she can teach you how to make anything as good as this hasty pudding, we’ll be blessed.”

After the meal, Piers invited her to join him in a game of chess. He often won, seeing patterns that escaped her eyes. At the end of the game, Father nodded at the two of them.

“I will get the lamps going. Why don’t the two of you take a walk?”

Judith looked at Father, then at Piers.

She knew what the clean suit, flowers, and compliments meant.

Piers had asked permission to court her.

And Father had agreed.