The Rough Rider (13 page)

“I don’t think so, Lewis,” Deborah said quietly. A smile touched her lips and she added, “You wouldn’t have two respectable nurses like us go bathing, I hope!”

Lewis was caught off guard, as he often was, by Deborah’s unexpectedly bright sense of humor. It lay beneath her quietness and jumped out at him from time to time. Now he laughed aloud and shrugged his trim shoulders. “That might make quite a headline, mighten it!”

“I don’t think Baxter Hospital would care to see two of its female employees portrayed in Mr. Hearst’s newspaper.”

“Oh, I’ve seen a few of those bathing costumes, at least some of the Gibson girls paintings. It looks like they have
at least ten yards of cloth covering them—more than some women wear to a dance,” Lewis argued. “Come on, we can just walk around and see the sights!”

Deborah hesitated, for she was tempted. A time away from the demands of her job at the hospital and the volunteer work at the mission would be a nice change. She had grown very fond of Lewis, though she’d never mentioned her feelings to anyone. But good sense prevailed. She knew Alice would resent any encroachment at what she envisioned as her own private property.

“Thanks for the invitation, though. I hope you have a good time. “

“I can’t go either, Lewis,” said Gail. “I need to go home.” Something about her wan expression drew Lewis’s attention at once. “Trouble at home, Gail?”

“Oh, there’s always trouble, I suppose.”

Seeing that Gail was upset, Deborah drew Lewis’s attention back to herself, saying, “When will you be leaving with your unit, Lewis?”

“I’m not sure—any day, I suppose. It’s really quite a mixed-up affair. The country wasn’t really ready for a war, and now the War Department is scrambling around trying to organize. I’m ready now—I’d like to go today!”

Though Lewis appeared confident about the whole thing, Deborah sensed a subtle anxiety for some reason and asked quietly, “Aren’t you afraid, Lewis?”

“Afraid?” he said, looking at her somewhat surprised. “Yes, in a war men get killed and wounded.”

“Why . . . yes, I suppose I might be a little afraid when the bullets start flying, but it’s something that has to be done, Deborah. I hope you can see that!”

As a matter of fact, Deborah was not at all sure of the war fever that was sweeping the country. Nevertheless, she had a steady way about her that enabled her to envision the results. Such enthusiastic, idealistic young men, such as the one that stood before her, might be lying in a shallow grave,
or blinded, or missing legs or arms. She sensed, however, that to speak of such things to Lewis was a waste of time. “I’ll be praying for you,” she said.

Gail had turned away to speak to someone else, so Lewis was alone with Deborah. He had learned to admire Deborah Laurent, yet he knew there was a wall there that he was never able to penetrate. She was always kind and cheerful, yet something lay behind her dark brown eyes that he could not understand. She was, strangely enough, warm and outgoing at times, while at other times, she seemed almost unapproachable. “What will you do?” he asked abruptly.

“Do? What do you mean?”

“Will you stay on at the hospital?”

“I suppose so—and do my work here at the mission. Now that Rev. Gardner and the others are gone to Africa, the rest of us have to take up the slack.”

“You never go out, do you—I mean with young men?” Lewis asked the question abruptly, for he had wondered about such things. Neither Gail nor Deborah seemed to have any inclination toward romance, and now he studied Deborah as she flushed slightly at his question. He could not understand her embarrassment, for it was a normal thing to ask. Both young women were attractive, yet neither of them seemed to be interested in what he assumed most girls spent their time thinking about.

“I have a job to do,” Deborah said quietly. She lifted her eyes to him, and for a moment Lewis saw a slight break in her demeanor. She seemed vulnerable and open, and he thought she was going to speak about something personal. Her lips parted slightly and suddenly he was aware that, while she was not beautiful, there was a definite attractiveness in her trim figure and smooth cheeks and features. But she said only, “I suppose that might come some day. Have a good day at Coney Island!”

Lewis left, puzzled by the young woman.
I can’t figure out what goes on with that woman,
he thought to himself.
She
doesn’t act like any young woman I’ve ever known.
But he was on his way to an afternoon of fun with Alice, so he put the thoughts out of his mind.

****

Later that afternoon, after a long day, when the two girls went back to the room they shared at the hospital, Gail asked, “What do you make of Lewis?”

“Make of him? What do you mean, Gail?”

“I mean, his sudden decision to enlist in the army.”

“I think he’s caught up in the same fever that has this whole country dancing.”

“Why? Does it trouble you?”

“I’d hate to see him come to harm. I’ve thought so much about all the young men going off to war. It’s exciting, I suppose, with the drums beating, the flag flying . . .” She hesitated, then added, “And young women inciting men to join up.”

Deborah didn’t mention Alice Cates, but Gail knew at once the girl was on her mind. Gail began dressing carefully, putting on her best dress—her pearl gray affair with maroon ribbons on the collar and sleeves. She took more pains than usual, and finally she turned to find Deborah watching her. “Dr. Burns has invited me to dine with him tonight.”

Deborah had watched the growing attraction that David Burns had for Gail Summers, though she had not commented on it. Being a very sharp observer of human nature, she had wondered what would happen if a romance sprang up between the two. Now she smiled briefly and said, “You look very pretty. I’m sure he’ll be impressed. He always has favored you.”

Gail flushed and pouted, saying, “No, that’s not so—he’s just kind.” She settled a small hat on her honey-colored hair, studied her reflection in the small mirror, then smiled. “I’ll see you later, Deborah.”

When she left their room, she was met almost at once by
Dr. Burns, who had just gotten off duty. He smiled when he saw her and said, “That’s a pretty dress.”

“You say that every time you see it,” Gail laughed, her eyes sparkling. “That’s very economical.” She joined him as they walked down the corridor, adding, “Your wife will never have to buy a new dress—you’ll always think the one she has on is new.”

Burns shook his head. “I doubt that! Although it would be a Scotsman’s dream, wouldn’t it!”

Gail smiled at the slight lilt of his Scottish brogue that still colored his words. When they reached the front doors of the hospital, Burns stopped to give the night nurse some instructions, and then they stepped outside. As they turned and walked down the street, she asked, “Are Scotsmen really as stingy as all the stories about them?”

“Every bit,” Burns assured her solemnly.

Gail teased him, knowing it was not so. He was not a rich young man, but she already knew that he was generous almost to a fault. It was common knowledge around the hospital halls that some of the most needy patients who couldn’t afford some medicine were recipients of the doctor’s generosity. She mentioned this now, saying, “Sometimes I think you’re more generous because of all the stories. You think you have to disprove that Scots are stingy!”

“Wait till you see the stingy dinner I’m going to buy you tonight,” he teased, “then you’ll sing a different tune, I’ll bound you!”

He took her to a restaurant a few blocks away, and as they entered she said, “This isn’t an inexpensive place, Doctor!”

“I may make you wash dishes to pay for your meal,” he said with a smile. He was wearing a lightweight gray suit with a spotless white shirt and a narrow lace tie that she’d never seen before. His hair was neatly trimmed, as always, and under his mustache his lips curved in a smile. He turned to the waiter, who seated them at a table near the window.
Looking up at the waiter, he said, “Just bring us two pieces of dry bread and two glasses of water.”

Gail looked up quickly at the waiter’s face and burst into giggles when she saw the disgusted expression. “I’ll have to have more than that, Dr. Burns. My work at the hospital of late has given me a hearty appetite.”

Burns smiled at her. “I thought you might! Let’s see what they have.” He made a production out of ordering the special of the day—roast duckling bigarade with chestnut dressing and curried fruit—which turned out to be very good indeed.

Although most people wouldn’t have noticed, Gail could sense a certain tension in the young physician. She’d studied this young man for months now and realized long ago that when he was nervous or uncomfortable, he had a habit of stroking his mustache with his forefinger. When he had done that several times during the meal, she thought to herself,
Something’s bothering him—trouble of some sort.
She knew so little about his private life, except that he had no family here, that she couldn’t imagine what it could be.

When they had finished their meal, Burns ordered ice cream with creme de menthe sauce along with steaming black coffee. As they sat there sipping it, Burns turned to her and said abruptly, “Gail, I want to ask you something.”

The use of her first name took her by surprise. Although he’d called her that when they first met, he’d kept to a more formal Miss Summers when they were on duty. Now, however, she saw his blue eyes were troubled somehow. “What is it, Dr. Burns?”

He shrugged his shoulders impatiently. “Well, for one thing, you can call me David when we’re not on duty.”

“Well, all right . . . David,” Gail smiled encouragingly. She saw that he was trying hard to find the words to say something to her, and impulsively she reached over and put her hand on his. She’d never done such a thing before and it startled him. “What is it?” she said. “You seem bothered by something.”

The warmth of her hand seemed to encourage the young
physician. He suddenly seized her hand, held it for a moment, and then looked down at it. Turning it over, he examined the palm. “I remember the first time I saw this hand all scarred from working at the rope factory,” he murmured. “I was very angry when I saw that!”

“I remember that too,” Gail said quietly. “I was very frightened—I had never been in a carriage and had never spoken to a gentleman. You were so kind to me that day. I’ve never forgotten it.”

“Haven’t you now?” he said, looking up and smiling at her.

“No, of course not.” Gail drew her hand back and flushed slightly. “We mustn’t be holding hands in public like this, even if I do use your first name.”

“I don’t suppose the world would stop if someone saw us holding hands,” Burns said almost belligerently.

“No, but I might be dismissed,” Gail retorted. “What’s bothering you, David?” The look on his face made her feel he was going to open up to her, but he changed the subject.

“Young Lewis Winslow’s bound and determined to go fight in the war. What do you think of that?”

Sensing he wasn’t ready to divulge what was troubling him, Gail did not press him. “Well, he’s young and impressionable. I pray that he’ll be safe. Why? Are you troubled about it, David?”

Burns did not answer. He stroked his mustache twice, then lowered his head and clasped his hands. For a moment, he did not speak or look up. Finally he did, and she saw that he was tremendously serious. “I’ve been asked to serve as a physician with the army on the expedition to Cuba.”

Surprise shot through Gail and she stared at him in shock. “Why, you wouldn’t do that, would you—leave the hospital, I mean?”

“Yes, I’ve decided to go.” He was watching her carefully, and his face worked unexpectedly. “You may think I’m a fool. Some do, including the chief medical officer of the hospital.”

“How did the army happen to come to you?”

“I can’t say. I’ll be a strange creature indeed with no military training at all, but I think it’s typical of the way this army’s being thrown together. They need doctors, and so they find a poor young physician that has no family. I think Dr. Stokes brought me to their attention. Anyway, I’ve decided to go.”

“Will you be in the army?”

“Well, technically. I’ll wear a uniform and have a rank—but only so long as the war lasts.”

Dismay ran through Gail Summers. She had not realized until this moment how much she depended on the steadiness that this young man had brought to her life. If it hadn’t been for him, and the program at the hospital, she might still be on the streets. “Why, David, I don’t know what to say. I’ll be lost without you at the hospital!”

David hesitated, then seemed to seek to find the exact words. “I want to ask you to go with me, Gail,” he said hesitatingly.

Gail was even more shocked at his request. “Go with you? Why, what do you mean, David?”

“I’ve been empowered to take two assistants with me. I’d like for you to be one of them and Deborah to be the other.”

“Why, you could get full-fledged nurses to go that are better trained than we are.”

“That may be, but that’s not what I want.” He touched his mustache nervously, then seemed to gain some confidence. “I’ve prayed about it, and as close as I can discern the will of the good Lord, I believe He wants you two to accompany me. I don’t know why.”

Gail was speechless. If he’d asked her to accompany him to the Himalayas, she could not have been more shocked. She sat there quietly, a tumble of thoughts racing through her head, and then she finally said, “This is too much for me to take in. Have you spoken to Deborah yet?”

“No, not yet—I wanted to ask you first.” He leaned back in his chair and shook his head dolefully. “I know it’s a wild
and crazy thing to ask of a young woman. It’ll be hard and dirty—and dangerous.”

Gail sat there trying to put her thoughts together. Finally, she shook her head, saying quietly, “I’ll have to pray about it, David. How long would we be gone?”

“That I don’t know for sure,” he said. “Until the war is over, I suppose. There’s no way of knowing when that will be.”

“It’ll be hard for me to leave Jeb. He’s having trouble as it is.”