looking down, she shook her head. “I haven’t told Ma,” she said. “She’d be ashamed of me. She’d want me to keep to home now that I’ve ‘disgraced’ myself. She’s in church now, so she doesn’t know I’m here.”
Was Mrs. Spencer a church-going hypocrite, praying for the heathen in Africa while oblivious to the trouble within her own house? He was familiar with the type, but he hadn’t met the woman so he shouldn’t assume that was the case. Did Ada Spencer have no friends, then? But perhaps she had no one with whom she was willing to trust her secret.
“I just want to make sure the baby’s healthy,” she murmured, glancing timidly up at him, then away again.
“Where is the father?” he asked, careful to keep his tone neutral.
“Dead,” Ada said, her tone as lifeless as the word. “He died when the Comanches attacked in October.”
“I see.” Simpson Creek had suffered half a dozen casualties that memorable day he’d arrived. And now there would be a child born who would never know his father because of it, and a woman who might be bowed down with shame the rest of her life. “I’m sorry.”
A tear trickled down Ada’s sallow face. “He wasn’t going to do right by me anyway,” she said. “He was leaving town that morning. It was his bad luck he happened to run into those savages.”
Nolan remembered the man who’d appeared at the church, tied onto his horse, who’d lived only long enough to give a few moments’ warning of the impending raid.
“And what do you plan to do, Miss Spencer? It’s none of my business, of course, but if you stay around town, people will eventually know that you’re with child. Have you considered relocating to another town—even another state, where you could say you were a widow?”
Again, she shook her head. “Ma and Pa are old. I’m the only one left at home to take care of them. They won’t turn me out, even once they know.”
But they won’t give her emotional support, either. He sighed, and wished he had a nurse he could call on to be present.
“Very well, let’s have a look,” he said, opening the door to his exam room and beckoning her inside.
Afterward, he waited for her at his desk in the adjoining room.
“If you’re expecting, it’s very early,” he said, after she came in and sat down. “At this stage, I can’t be certain. When did you…that is…” He stopped, aware of the awkwardness of his question and wishing he could just spit it out instead of having to dance delicately around the point. He’d been so much more comfortable around soldiers, saying what he meant without having to think about it so carefully.
“In September,” she said, thankfully sparing him having to come up with another euphemism. “It…it was only once or twice….”
Nolan Walker sighed. Obviously once or twice had been enough. It was useless to wish the dead man had behaved honorably and married the girl before leaving her with child and getting himself killed.
She wasn’t a bad-looking woman, he thought, though in her present depressed, shame-faced state it would be hard for a man to see her better qualities. How did one go about suggesting to a woman in this predicament that if she held her head high and was pleasant and charming, some good man might well come to accept her and the coming baby?
Ah, well. He was a physician, not a counselor or matchmaker. Perhaps he could persuade her to trust Reverend Chadwick with her secret. The minister seemed like a decent man who wouldn’t shame this poor woman still further, but could give her good advice. And perhaps in time, she would trust one of her friends enough to enlist another’s company at her appointments with him, if her mother wasn’t willing once she knew the truth. Ada Spencer belonged to that Spinsters’ Club, didn’t she? So she must have some acquaintances, at least. He’d feel a lot more comfortable when he needed to examine Miss Spencer if she brought another female with her.
“Very well, Miss Spencer,” he said. “If all goes well between now and sometime in the middle of June, I see no reason that you cannot deliver a strong healthy child. I’ll need to see you a few times before then, of course.”
“The middle of June? That’s when my baby will come?” A spark of joy lit the woman’s narrow face, and he marveled. Even while she risked disgrace, a woman could find joy in the thought of a coming baby.
“Based on what you told me about when the child was conceived, yes. Though babies, of course, have a mind of their own and can come earlier or later than when a physician predicts.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
“You’re quite welcome, Miss Spencer.” He rose to indicate the appointment was over, and she moved quickly toward the door.
“Oh, and Miss Spencer,” he said, trying to make his request sound casual, “why don’t you bring a friend with you next time you come? I’m sure it would be wiser for the sake of your reputation.” And mine.
She looked back at him, then bolted out the door without another word.
Chapter Four
“My message,” Reverend Chadwick began, “is one I have felt compelled to preach today, the subject of forgiveness. Certainly this is a timely subject, in view of the recent national conflict that nearly tore our country in two forever. Maybe the Lord wanted me to speak on this because one person present is struggling to forgive another. But really, it doesn’t matter whether one person or twenty needs to hear it. I take my text from Matthew Chapter Eighteen, in which Peter is asking Jesus how many times he should forgive his brother.”
Sarah winced inwardly. Of all the subjects for the pastor to preach about! And just after she had been thinking that his failure to attend church served as an additional reason why Dr. Nolan Walker deserved neither her forgiveness nor her friendship…
Reverend Chadwick went on to describe how Jesus had decreed one should forgive seventy times seven. “Now, does the Lord mean we are only to forgive four hundred and ninety times? No, dear people, He means infinitely. If we don’t forgive, we aren’t forgiven—simple as that.”
Sarah shifted uncomfortably in the pew, hoping the elegant Lord Edward and his kindly brother Richard didn’t notice. The white-haired pastor seemed to be speaking straight to her, though he wasn’t looking in her direction.
“In fact,” Reverend Chadwick went on, “the Bible goes so far as to say if we take our gift to the altar, and discover we have something against our brother, we’re to go and make things right with him first.”
Very well, then. She had brought a tithe of her profits from her bakery sales to put in the collection plate, but she’d hold on to the coins until she’d had a chance to speak to Dr. Walker. That was the right thing to do. It wouldn’t be easy—much would depend on how he responded, but surely Pastor Chadwick’s choice of this topic meant that she was to forgive Nolan Walker for serving with the Union Army. She could pay him a visit this very afternoon, after she and the Brookfield brothers met with the Milly and Nick for dinner and she saw them all off to Austin. After all, she was already in town, and had left dinner on the stove for the cowhands, so she didn’t have to get back to the ranch soon.
She sighed, at peace with herself now, and admitted she was even looking
