He blinked hard. “I made some rounds to the neighbors after that, just to see if anyone else is ill. Mrs. Felder and the Smiths are sick. And Mr. Trask rode by the Wallace place when I was out there last night and told me the Rileys are ill, as well. I’m going out there after we see the situation at the Smiths.”
Coralee’s hand shot to her mouth, eyes growing wide. “Oh, no, not the Rileys. We see them at church every Sunday without fail. Their twins...”
Jake shook his head. “When Aaron started feeling sick a few days ago, Liza got Phillip and Louisa to the Trasks. I checked on them this morning and they’re fine.”
Relief flooded her face. The pure beauty of her expression hit Jake like a punch to the stomach, forcing the breath right out of his lungs. For a few moments he couldn’t pull his eyes away from her as she gazed at the wildflowers lining the well-worn dirt road. His hands itched to bury themselves in that mass of soft hair, to run over her smooth cheek. She must have finally felt his stare because she turned to him, a curious look on her face.
Jake twisted away and cleared his throat again, working to get a handle on his emotions and force them back into a corner of his mind. She might be beautiful, but he couldn’t afford to let her close enough to hurt him again.
They traveled in silence until he turned the wagon toward a log cabin in the distance. “There’s the Wallace farm. I haven’t been out to check on them yet today. They...” He hesitated, not sure how much to tell her, but realized she would have to know soon enough. “They aren’t going to last long, so I’m trying to make them comfortable.” She nodded somberly and they both stared ahead for the rest of the drive, each lost in their own thoughts.
After he pulled the wagon up next to the cabin, Jake helped Coralee down and grabbed their cases. He led her inside the small home, hoping their services were still needed. To his relief, Mr. and Mrs. Wallace were still breathing. But both had sunken eyes and a weak, irregular pulse.
He and Coralee worked with quiet focus. They spoke in hushed tones to encourage their patients to drink a bit of the tea Coralee prepared. They wiped the older couple’s faces with damp cloths and they changed blankets. They administered calomel and rubbed the patients’ stomachs with camphor to ease their discomfort. It wasn’t much, but it was all they could do.
While Jake was arranging Mr. Wallace’s blankets, the older man’s eyes fluttered open. He took a moment to speak with his patient. “Mr. Wallace, it’s Jake Hadley again. I’m here with the apothecary, Mrs. Evans. I want you to know...that is, I’m sorry, but I don’t think you or your wife will recover.”
To Jake’s surprise, the older man’s pale face broke out in a peaceful smile. “Young man, that news isn’t as bad as you think,” he rasped as his eyes slid shut. “My hope isn’t in this life. It’s in Jesus and He doesn’t quit when I do.” The older man fell silent and Jake stared at his sleeping patient as stillness washed over him.
Jake’s spirit stirred at Mr. Wallace’s confident faith. Where Jake had always struggled to live out his convictions, this man was bold even in the face of death. A longing lodged in Jake’s heart. Could he learn to rest in his faith so completely that even death didn’t frighten him?
It was late by the time Jake and Coralee finished caring for the Wallaces, but they headed toward the Smith farm. Driving through the falling darkness, Jake didn’t realize he had been wrapped up in his thoughts for too long until Coralee broke the awkward silence. “What was it like working at such a large hospital in St. Louis?”
“It was a great experience. There was such an interesting variety of cases. At such a large institution, we saw some rare diseases that were fascinating to study. And with so many patients there was something different to study every day.”
Remembering his time at the hospital, Jake felt enthusiasm welling up. It was nice to share that experience with someone who understood medicine. Even if that person was Coralee. “At the practice here, I only see a few patients at the office. I’m out making house calls most of the time for the same farm injuries or common illnesses.”
Jake glanced at Coralee and saw her eyes were wide, lips slightly parted in rapt attention, encouraging him to continue. “Most of the physicians at the hospital studied the newest medical research to use in their treatment plans. That aspect fascinated me. And that’s how I ended up connecting with Samuel. He always visits the hospital on his trips so he can keep up on the most recent advances.”
Coralee tensed at his mention of Dr. Jay. “Jake, I understand you’ve spent time with the man and you trust him. But you’ve known me since we were children. Why can’t you believe me when I tell you that Dr. Jay is doing everything in his power to close down my shop?”
Jake felt frustration growing and tried to fight against it. He needed her help. How would they be able to work together if they kept fighting every time they talked? “Are you sure you want to get into this right now? I already told you my opinion.”
“Yes, I believe I know your opinion of Samuel Jay.” Coralee pursed her lips, brows knitting together.
He had to get the conversation back on solid footing. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. No one else got under his skin as fast as this woman.
“Listen, Coralee, I’m sorry.” He wasn’t about to budge on his opinion, but he could put aside his pride to defuse the situation. He turned to look into her eyes, hoping she could see his sincerity. “I need your help right now. Maybe after we get the outbreak under control, we can sit down and talk about this.”
She nodded and her eyes softened at his concession. The azure pools drew him in, flooding him with memories of the days when he had been in love with her. Carefree days when he’d thought their hearts would beat together forever. As it turned out, her heart had never beat for him in the first place.
It was nearly the middle of the night by the time they arrived at the Smiths’ cabin, but light pooled on the ground under the windows from a lantern lit inside. Jake knocked on the door and Mrs. Smith came to welcome them, looking weary. They followed her into a single room, stifling, thanks to a fire crackling in the large fireplace. Little Timothy Smith was sleeping soundly on a blanket laid out in front of it.
“Thanks for coming, Doc. My oldest two, Sarah and David, are in the loft. James is back there.” She gestured at a bed in the farthest corner, where they could just make out the shape of her husband under the mound of quilts.
Together, Jake and Coralee examined each patient. They found that the three sick members of the Smith family were in the earliest stage of the illness. Jake was confident they would recover with the right treatment. But Mrs. Smith continued to look worried in spite of his assurance. He set her to making a hearty broth while Coralee fixed a batch of chamomile tea. Jake encouraged each patient to drink as much tea and broth as they could handle.
“Doc, are you sure this is good for them? My ma always said the only way to cure the cholera is a spoon of castor oil every hour.”
Jake shook his head. “I recently trained in St. Louis, ma’am. One of the most successful doctors at the hospital taught that taking extra fluids could improve the outcome of many ailments. I’ve seen it work myself. I hope you’ll trust me that it won’t hurt your family to try.” The woman nodded and let Jake continue, but she stood close by, looking wary.
Working together, Jake and Coralee cleaned up and cared for each of the sick family members. Jake managed to convince Mrs. Smith to get some sleep while he and Coralee kept watch over her family. Each patient needed to have tea and broth around the
