Dr. Morgan - Part 6

Good Morning Faithful Friday Fiction Fans!
(Maybe I should say, Busy Fiction Fans. ;) )

I caught my breath a few times this week, but not often. :) Spending all morning working out in the yard on Saturday was a nice break from all the other things I was doing. And then on Sunday we actually came home from church in time to get naps and relax for several hours! It was wonderful! I won't tell you what I did each day because they weren't big things, only lots and lots of little or medium sized things that take time. :) Wednesday, however, was the exception. We attended a rally for Todd Akin that morning even though it started to rain and the rally was outside. There was a good group. Then that afternoon I taught 3 writing classes. I'm not sure what got into the boys, but they were more wound up then usual. Liddy Bid, one of my younger girls, tried to tell me that it wasn't very long or tiring to teach from 1:00 until 4:15. (She wanted her class to go on longer.) Ha! She's never done it! I do enjoy teaching though. (Most of the time. ;) )

Guess what? I finally finished writing a short story last night! It is only about 4,000 words long but I started it two weeks ago, I think. Now that this story is done I'm hoping to get a Thanksgiving story written and then start on Christmas stories. I know, I know, Christmas isn't until December and it's not quite October, but at the rate I've been writing, I should have started back in July! Maybe I'll have more time to write soon.

And just a reminder, if you haven't yet ordered Pirates of Rocky Crag Bay and Other Stories, you only have a few days left to order it and get the special 20% discount! Just enter the code: EVZEUPN9 And if you have ordered it and read your copy, I would so appreciate a quick review from you on Amazon or Light of Faith! 

Reviews are not only good for the author to know what people think of the book, but they also are very helpful for others who might be interested in buying a copy.

Now that I've pushed my book again and asked, begged and pleaded for reviews, I'll give you Part 6 of Dr. Morgan. Enjoy!

Part 6

    These thoughts flashed through her mind as well as a quick prayer for help. Focusing all her attention on the girl in the bed, Heather smiled. “I’ll sing if you will close your eyes and try to sleep.”
    Obediently Amy closed her eyes although she kept a tight grip on Heather’s hand.

    “God, that madest earth and heaven,
    Darkness and light;
    Who the day for toil hast given,
    For rest the night;”

    The restless fingering of the bed clothes by Amy’s free hand ceased as the haunting melody reached her ears and penetrated to her brain.

    “May Thy angel guards defend us,
    Slumber sweet They mercy send us;
    Holy dreams and hopes attend us
    This live-long night.”

    Softly the song slipped into the still room filling it with a stillness, a peace and a calm that seemed to hush even the troubled thoughts Dr. Morgan had, for as he watched his patient’s breathing grow steady, saw her ridged form grow limp under the blanket, his face, which had been so tense, relaxed and he leaned against the wall; his shoulders dropped, letting the simple, well known song speak peace and calm to every fiber of his being.

    “And when morn again shall call us
    To run life’s way,
    May we still whatever befall us,
    Thy will obey.”

    Heather sang all the verses before she stopped and, when Amy didn’t move, looked up at her brother.
    “Can you stay here?” he whispered, bending down so that his lips were close to her ear.
    Raising her eyebrows in surprise, she shrugged. “I suppose so,” she replied softly. “But, the children, Timothy . . .”
    “I’ll take care of that if you’ll only stay!”
    Seeing the look of pleading on his tired face, Heather could only nod.
    Motioning the nurse, Dr. Morgan moved on cat’s feet to the door where Sara still stood watching.
    Out in the hall, he spoke in a low voice to Nurse Franklin for a minute before starting towards the lobby with his sister; their footsteps sounded strangely loud after the stillness of the sick room.
    Turning to her as they stepped down the last step, he yawned. “Sara,” he began, “I need your help.”
    “It looks like you need Heather’s help, not mine,” Sara replied, not feeling the least bit of jealousy, for nursing was not in her line.
    “I need both,” he clarified. “She has been the only one who has been able to quiet her so quickly. Of course I don’t know if she’ll be able to do it again, but I don’t dare risk her not being here when she wakes up.”
    Nodding her head, Sara gave a snort. “You really should go to bed, Just. Your pronouns are as clear as mud.”
    “I know. Then you’ll help me?”
    “I’ll watch the children if that is what you want. Should I call Timothy, too, and let him know he can’t have his wife back for a while?”
    Justin looked relieved. “Would you, Sara? I have to get some sleep while she’s sleeping. I can hardly function right now.”
    With a grin, Sara gave her brother a push towards his office and ordered, “Go on and get to bed. I’ll make the call for you.”

    Everything was dark when Justin awoke, dark and quiet. Feeling much refreshed by his nap, he turned a lamp on and glanced at his watch. It was nearly midnight! Surely Amy hadn’t been asleep this whole time. Was Heather still here? Why hadn’t anyone wakened him? Quickly he slipped out into the hall and up the stairs.
    The room was dim and hushed. Heather still sat beside the bed one hand clasped in Amy’s. Silently Justin slipped over and laid quiet fingers on his patient’s wrist. The pulse was faint but steady. A soft sigh escaped him as he felt the girl’s forehead and discovered it was cool and damp.
    “Thank God!” he breathed, feeling hope for the stranger’s life for the first time in days. “The fever has broken.”
    “Just.” The voice was a soft whisper and Dr. Morgan looked across the bed to find his sister watching him. He returned her anxious look with a smile and watched the tense line of her shoulders loosen.
    Slipping as silently out of the room as he had slipped into it, Dr. Morgan hurried to find Nurse Allen and soon the two of them returned. The nurse took up her post beside the bed while Heather, gently sliding her hand from the now relaxed hold which had held it so fast, moved to the door.
    Not a word was spoken as she followed her brother out of the room and down to the lobby where he pulled up two chairs and, sinking into one asked, “What happened?”
    Heather shrugged. “Not much. She woke up a few times, tightened her hold on my hand and asked me to sing again. I didn’t notice any change until you came in. She’s going to be all right?”
    Giving a deep sigh, he nodded. “It looks like it. Maybe we’ll be able to find out who she is when she wakes up again. Thank God you were here!”
    The two tired workers exchanged smiles. “What should I do now?” Heather wondered. “I can sit with her the rest of the night if you want. As long as Timothy knows where I am.” She added the last more as a question, than a statement.
    “He should. Sara said she’d call him. I don’t know if you should sit with her. It wouldn’t hurt, but are you sure you’re up to it?” Dr. Morgan yawned.
    “I’m more up for it than you seem to be.” Heather laid her hand on her brother’s arm. “Just tell me what I should do, and then you can go get some more sleep.”

    It was mid morning when Amy opened her eyes and looked about her. Where in the world was she? What had happened and why did she feel so tired?

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Triple Creek Ranch - Part 30

Here is the last Triple Creek Tuesday. At least for now. Enjoy!

Part 30

    “I can clean, cook, tend to Orlena, make beds and wash clothes. I’m not sure but I could feed chickens or gather eggs though never have I done so before.”
    Jenelle was speechless. The thought of having someone to talk to who wouldn’t always be complaining, not to mention the help she would have, was a relief so wonderful that she couldn’t say a word for a full minute. Then she laughed. Rising she said with another laugh, “I’m delighted to have you here, Mrs. O’Connor, really. I wasn’t expecting help and—” her eyes filled suddenly with tears of joy and relief. Blinking them back she smiled and turned to her husband. “Norman take Mrs. O’Connor’s trunk up to the west corner room. I haven’t had a chance to dust it today and the bed needs aired and--”
    Shouldering the trunk, Norman interrupted Jenelle. “See what I mean?” he chuckled to Mrs. O’Connor. “Trying to plan more work already.”
    Laughing, the ladies followed Norman up the stairs and down the hall. Orlena’s voice could be heard calling for Jenelle.
    Once they reached the west corner room and Norman had set the trunk down, remarking that he would go unhitch the team, Mrs. O’Connor glanced about her with an approving smile and said, “Now, Mrs. Mavrich, which would you be liking me to do first, see to Miss Orlena or unpack my trunk?”
    Jenelle paused in the doorway and spoke somewhat hesitatingly, for she was not used to giving orders regarding the house to strangers. “If you wouldn’t mind stepping in to see Orlena, it might be pleasant for her to see a familiar face. I could dust your room and air the sheets. But,” she added, hearing Orlena’s raised voice calling her, “perhaps I should go to Orlena. . .” Without thinking, her hand moved to her aching head at the thought of her fractious young sister.
    “No, I’ll see to Orlena,” Mrs. O’Connor said briskly, noticing the tired look on Jenelle’s face. “I am used to her and will settle her quickly and then come back and settle this room. Why don’t you sit down and rest, Child?” And Mrs. O’Connor bustled down the hall to answer Orlena’s demands.
    Left alone, Jenelle gave a sigh and smiled faintly. “I have a feeling Norman brought me an angel. With her to help, perhaps I won’t be so tired by the middle of the day.” She meant to start dusting the room, but instead sat down for just a moment, in a low rocker, and when Mrs. O’Connor returned some fifteen minutes later she started up in surprise.
    “I must have fallen asleep,” Jenelle yawned. “I almost never sleep during the day unless I have a sick headache.” She started to get up but her new housekeeper waved her back.
    “No, Mrs. Mavrich, just sit there and if you feel up to it, we can talk. This room can wait till tomorrow to be dusted and it won’t take long to unpack my trunk entirely.” She was busy as she spoke, unlocking the trunk and raising the lid. “If those few minutes were enough time for you to sleep in, it is tired you are.”
    “But I shouldn’t be tired,” Jenelle protested. “I’ve hardly done any real work this morning for Orlena has needed . . .” she paused to consider what it was that Orlena really had needed and ended at last with a soft, “me.”
    Mrs. O’Connor nodded wisely. “And how often was it that she sent you for a drink this morning when the pitcher of water was beside her bed?”
    “Maybe half a dozen times, but the water in the pitcher wasn’t as cool as—”
    “As Miss Orlena would like,” finished Mrs. O’Connor dryly. “I know. I’ve lived with her most of her life.”

    Norman remained at the house for the noonday meal, and while they ate he explained that Orlena was not the one giving orders about the ranch and Mrs. O’Connor needn’t give in to her every whim.
    “Jenelle,” Norman turned to his wife, “I saw Dr. French in town this morning and he said he’d be out this evening unless he receives a call elsewhere.”
    Jenelle nodded. Perhaps the doctor would say that Orlena should get up. Would it be easier then or more difficult to deal with her?
    “—Mrs. O’Connor. Won’t you, Dear?”
    Jenelle turned a blank face to her husband. “Won’t I want?” she asked. “I’m afraid I wasn’t listening.”
    “I really should send you to bed,” Norman smiled at her. “Or I could have Dr. French look at you.”
    Jenelle shook her head, returning the smile. “I was only thinking. What did you say?”
    “I said you were going to go lie down and rest this afternoon and leave Orlena to Mrs. O’Connor. Won’t you?”
    Looking astonished, Jenelle shook her head. “Why Norman, Mrs. O’Connor only arrived this morning! I wouldn’t dream of pushing Orlena off on her. She should be the one to rest.”
    A rich chuckle sounded across the table and Mrs. O’Connor spoke, “Ah, Norman, you have a thoughtful wife, indeed. But Deary,” and she turned to Jenelle, “I’m not the least bit tired and I imagine a good long rest would do you good. Orlena can tell me all about what has happened since I last saw her and you needn’t fret a wee bit about it.”
    “But—”
    “Darling,” Norman said gently, placing a hand tenderly on her arm, “please. For my sake, get some rest and don’t worry about Orlena or Mrs. O’Connor. Tonight, after the doctor comes, we can have a long talk it you want and plan everything, but this afternoon . . .” His grey eyes were soft and pleading as they gazed into his wife’s tired face.
    Giving a sigh, Jenelle closed her eyes a moment and then looked up to say with a slight laugh, “I am out numbered, so I’ll rest. If,” she looked at Mrs. O’Connor, “you are sure you feel up to it.”

Thoughts on the story so far?

Dr. Morgan - Part 5

Humph! I had published this but for some strange reason it decided it was a draft. :P Sorry!!
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Good Morning Faithful Friday Fiction Fans!
How has your week been? Mine? Well, have you ever gone  into something already tired and a bit overwhelmed and then things just seem to pile on top of each other after that and you can't seem to get back on your feet or get your head above water? If you have, you have a glimpse of my week. :P I was already tired and feeling overwhelmed when we went into Family Camp, but it was such fun and I really enjoyed it.
That was Friday, Saturday and Sunday.
On Monday we were trying to get caught up on all kinds of things and I was tired. And that evening my best friends came down and showed us pictures from a trip, then I chatted with a heart-sister about her news. And so I didn't write.
Tuesday was crazy trying to get things done, get ready for writing classes, decide if I should not do somethings because I was too busy. I didn't get to write that evening either.
Wednesday came and writing classes. I was tired after they were all over.
Then came yesterday. All week I'd been on the edge of something. Was the day going to be another rough one? No!!! In fact it was a great day! I got things really worked on felt as though I accomplished things before lunch! I helped finish the apples and then did something I've thought of doing off and on for several years, but never was sure I'd like it. I got my hair layered. I like it. :) We had a delightful supper and Grandpa came all the way from KC to take me to a concert. At first I was hesitant. I mean I haven't even gotten to write since sometime last week. Not really write anyway. But I went. Oh wow! I wish you could have all gone. It was the Ariel Quartet. And they are all 28 years old. They started the quartet in Israel when they were all 13. Yep, that means they've been playing together for 15 years! They were so much fun to watch and listen to. I came home feeling re-invigorated and ready to go on with life. My feet were under me and my head was above water. I'm very glad I went.

And you already know I haven't gotten writing done. Except for 15 -20 minutes here and there I haven't written anything. How sad. And I'm in the middle of a new story too. And of course you all want me to get back to TCR and Dr. Morgan. I will, I will. Just give me time. :)

But here is the next part of Dr. Morgan. Thanks, Abigail, for being so faithful in commenting.

Part 5

    They were days when no one could calm the girl who had appeared so suddenly from the mountains, days when she clung to Dr. Morgan, calling him Matt and crying for Kathleen, days when the fever filled eyes swam with tears and she kept sobbing over and over, “No, no, no!”
    Dr. Morgan fought the fever with all the knowledge and skill he possessed, seeking advice from Dr. Stern who came out every other day, and praying constantly. Never had he been faced with a situation quite like this before. He scarcely slept except in snatches here and there. His eating was as irregular as his sleeping. How it would all end, he didn’t know.
    The two little ones who had arrived with the exhausted Amy, had both been released from the hospital and were staying with the Morgans. All had been hoping that Danny would be able to tell them a few things, but aside from asking for “Maimie” for the first few days, he seemed to accept his new life without a thought as to what it had been before.

    One day when Heather, the oldest child in the Morgan family, was visiting her parents with her three small children, she remarked to Sara, “Danny and Jenny are so cute, I wonder what their story is.”
    “You and all the rest of us,” Sara sighed, looking down at the blanket on the floor where Jenny was trying to decide if she would go to sleep.
    “How’s Justin doing?” Heather asked next.
    Sara shrugged. “I haven’t seen him since they came.”
    Heather looked surprised. “Haven’t you been down to the hospital?”
    “No, Mom has gone but I’ve stayed with the little ones.”
    For several minutes Heather was silent. Then she stood up. “Let’s both go down.”
    “And leave the babies?”
    “Lucas is sleeping and Jenny is almost asleep. I’m sure Mom and Adam won’t mind keeping an eye on the others. Come on,” she coaxed. “We’ll take him some of the pie you just made.”
    At that Sara laughed. “Okay, if Mom agrees to watch the others.
    Mrs. Morgan readily agreed and the sisters departed with more than a piece of pie for Justin.
    Arriving at the hospital, Heather looked up at the name carved into the stone above the door. “I haven’t been in this place since it was a hotel.”
    “Me either.” Sara said, then amending her statement added, “I mean I haven’t been here since the renovations have been finished.”
    In the lobby they met Justin coming down the stairs. His shoulders sagged and he looked worn out, but his face brightened when he saw his sisters. “Hi,” he greeted them.
    “You look almost ready to drop,” Heather told him after a hug.
    Giving a tired smile, he sighed.
    “How is she?” Sara asked, rightly reading more than tiredness in his face.
    “Amy? I left her sleeping with Nurse Franklin on watch since I had to send Mrs. Jones home to rest. She was more worn out than I am. I just came down to grab a bite of something.”
    “Well, we got here at just the right time then,” Heather smiled taking the basket from her younger sister. “Care for a piece of fresh apple pie?”
    For answer Justin sat down on the lowest step and reached for the basket. His sisters watched him eat hungrily while they told him about the children. At last he stood up. “Thanks. That will keep me going for a while.”
    “Just,” Sara asked hesitatingly, “Can we . . . I mean would we be allowed to . . .”
    Understanding her unfinished questions, he nodded. “If you want to see her, come on up. Her fever isn’t contagious.”
    Silently Sara and Heather followed their brother up the steps and down the quiet hall. Pausing at the door, they waited while Justin told them softly, “If Amy is awake, don’t be surprised if she tells you to go away. One minute she hates me and then next tells me I’m the only one who loves her.” He made a slight face.
    With the opening of the door, he instantly became Dr. Morgan again not just Justin. His sisters noticed the change and felt a new respect for him. Never had they seen him in his role as physician and both halted instinctively just inside the door.
    “Matt!” the voice, pleading and weak came from the bed as Dr. Justin approached. “Where’s Kathleen? Where is she?” There was a frantic, hysterical tone in the voice and Amy clutched his arm like a drowning person clutches a life preserver.
    “Shh,” Dr. Morgan soothed, “Kathleen’s all right—”
    He got no farther for, as he moved closer to the bed, the feverish eyes of the girl rested on the two in the doorway. With a glad cry, Amy held out shaking arms. “Kathleen!”
    After a quick glance at Heather, Sara took a step towards the bed. Was she calling her?
    But Amy’s arms fell down and she whimpered, “I want Kathleen.”
    “Heather,” Dr. Morgan spoke low. He nodded towards the bed and swiftly Heather came over.
    “I’m right here, Dear,” she comforted, brushing back the girl’s light hair from her hot face. “There’s no need to fret, just relax and go to sleep now.”
    “Every thing's all right?”
    “Perfectly all right. Now I want you to drink this for me.” Gently lifting Amy’s head, Heather held the glass Justin had pushed into her hands to the girl’s lips. “That’s right. There now, just close your eyes and get some sleep.”
    “You won’t leave me, will you?” Amy murmured.
    “No, Dear, I can stay for a while.” And, after glancing swiftly at her brother and seeing the chair he had quietly placed beside the bed, sat down.
    “Sing,” begged Amy.
    Knowing she wasn’t a very good singer, Heather hesitated a moment. Sara and Justin were the singers of the family, they should sing. Besides, what does one sing to someone so ill? How could she sing before these others?

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Triple Creek Tuesday - Part 29

Okay, it is still morning and I'm posting TCR, but I want to give you heads up. I'm going to have to stop posting Triple Creek Tuesdays after next week. One reason is I'm too busy and it is really hard to remember to post them right now. Another reason is that I'm running out of TCR parts to post! I've been so busy that I have hardly had time to write and since I've been trying, in those few evenings, to get the last few stories for my other short story book written, I haven't gotten to work on TCR. I also know that I'll be writing at least a Christmas story and maybe a Thanksgiving story soon so TCR just might get pushed aside for a while. However, I will continue with Fiction Friday.
So enjoy today's post and next Tuesday's.

Part 29

    “I will be arriving on Wednesday on the 10:47 train. If you cannot come for me yourself or send one of your men, no doubt I can find someone who will take me out to Triple Creek Ranch. . .”
   
    “Good news, sir?” Hearter asked, for he had been anxiously watching Mr. Mavrich’s face and had seen the relieved look which came over it as he read..
    “Excellent news, Hearter!” Norman exclaimed. “It’s an answered prayer. Where’s Hardrich?” He had refolded the letter and replaced it in the envelope which he now tapped on his hand.
    “I haven’t seen him since I rode in, sir, but I’ll check the barn when I take the team in to unhitch them.”
    Mr. Mavrich nodded and after hesitating a moment, he strode towards the nearby pasture where some of the men were working.
    It was there that his foreman found him, and the two men talked for some time. At last Hardrich said, “That would do. What time are you planning to leave?”
    “Oh about ten I’d say. But I think I’ll remain at the house in the morning and will just hitch up the team myself. There’s that new horse that needs worked with. We’ve been so busy no one has had time.
    Hardrich nodded and, after a few more words, Norman moved towards the barn.

    “Jenelle,” Norman began as the two of them were sitting at the supper table that evening, “I’m going to have to go into town in the morning; is there anything you need me to pick up for you?”
    “I don’t think so. We picked up supplies not very long ago. Didn’t Lloyd just go into town today?” she asked.
    Norman nodded.
    “Then why do you have to go in tomorrow?” his wife pressed.
    “It’s just something he couldn’t do today,” and Norman shrugged. He had thought of mentioning the letter to Jenelle but had second thoughts. “She’d wear herself out trying to get ready,” he reasoned and decided to keep it a secret.
    The rest of the meal was eaten in silence, for Jenelle was still not her usual self and didn’t have the energy to talk much.

    The clock in the front room was striking ten when Norman drove out the lane leaving a puzzled wife behind him, for before he left he had come in and put on a clean shirt.
    “I do hope he isn’t going to town looking for someone to help me,” Jenelle sighed, watching the dust settle behind the wagon. “It’s not that I wouldn’t like a little extra help,” she said aloud to the empty front room as she turned from the window. “But I can’t think of a single person who could be spared for such work.” An imperative voice called her just then and Jenelle gave up trying to understand her husband’s errand in town and hurried to Orlena’s room.
    Orlena was making the most of her sickness. Since she was in bed, she didn’t have to sew or do anything else she didn’t want to do. Her demands to be amused, have a cold drink brought to her or to be fanned, were endless, and there were times when Jenelle refused to follow her whims. These refusals, always given gently and because Jenelle had other matters to attend to or because some requests went against the doctor’s orders, were received with indignation, for Orlena had not learned to accept any way but hers without a fuss.
    It was after Mrs. Mavrich had brought a glass of cold water to Orlena for the seventh time that morning, that the sound of wagon wheels was heard in the yard. Stepping to the window, Jenelle looked out, remarking, “Norman has returned and—” then she paused.
    “And what?” the demand sounded from the bed.
    Jenelle didn’t turn her head. “He has someone with him.”
    “Who?” Orlena persisted.
    Jenelle didn’t answer but turned swiftly from the window and hurried from the room.
    “Jenelle Mavrich!” Orlena called after her. “Don’t you dare leave me until you tell me who came!”
    The words were wasted for Jenelle was already half way down the stairs. Who had Norman brought? It was a woman, Jenelle had seen that plain enough from the window, but who was she and why was she here? Hurrying to the door, she flung it open and met her husband on the steps.
    “Darling,” he said, kissing her, “I’d like you to meet Mrs. O’Connor. Mrs. O’Connor, my wife.”
    “Ah, it’s a pleasure at last to meet you,” the former housekeeper of Mrs. Marshall Mavrich exclaimed, shaking hands with Jenelle first and smiling warmly.
    After returning the greeting, Jenelle turned puzzled eyes on her husband. What was his grandmother’s housekeeper doing here?
    “Ah, Norman,” Mrs. O’Connor chuckled, seeing the unasked questions in Jenelle’s eyes. “I see you have not told your sweet wife of my letter.”
    “I didn’t tell her of either letter,” Norman chuckled. “I knew if I did, she would work herself sick trying to get ready in the event that you should come. Come now, let us go inside. The heat out here is too much for you ladies.” So saying, Norman opened the door and bowed as Jenelle and Mrs. O’Connor entered, then he followed with a small trunk.
    “I still don’t understand, I’m afraid,” Jenelle said, somewhat bewildered and sitting down in the first chair she came to.
    “It is a simple matter really,” Norman replied. “I realized you were right about no one around here being able to come help. I also knew we needed someone who understood the situation and could help. That is when the Lord brought Mrs. O’Connor to mind. So, I wrote to ask if she would come, and here she is.”
    Jenelle was evidently not her usual quick self, for she still stared confusedly at her husband. “But what is she here for?”
    “Child,” Mrs. O’Connor spoke before Norman had a chance to. “I’m here to do anything you need done.”

What do you think of this part?

Dr. Morgan - Part 4

What a wonderful rainy morning, Friday Fiction Fans,
Even if today is the first day of our church's family camp. It rained most of, if not all of last night and it's still raining. There is rain in the forecast for the rest of the weekend so we may have a very memorable camp. :)
I can't spend a long time on here this AM since we are trying to leave at 9:30 to get all the groceries bought. S is in charge of the kitchen, of course. She loves cooking and being the one in there. As for me, I'll stay out and do other things. ;)

This week was crazy.
Friday we stayed home!
Saturday came and I mowed half the yard before breakfast, then we got to babysit Princess all day!!! She was such fun and so good!
Sunday after church we went to Pickle Puss's 6th birthday party. Her birthday is really this Sunday, but since we'd be at camp, the party was last Sunday.
Monday was busy trying to get a lot done on my long list of things to do.
Tuesday I had three new writing students come for a class in the morning, and then S & I babysat the kiddos that evening.
Wednesday was only the second day we got to stay home this week, and it was busy trying to get more things done, preparing the story I'm telling at character class at camp and trying to get some things figured out.
Yesterday we headed out about 9:25 to get to JoAnn's Grand Opening in time to receive a $10. gift card. (They were giving them out to the first 100 people.) We stood in line about 30 minutes, but we all got one. :) I also got some fabric for a project I'm going to do. Went some place else and then to Connie's. Last night we had Funny Boy and Doodle Bug over all evening. The others had to go to a meeting. I was supposed to go to, but I didn't want to and since there really wasn't any need for me to go I stayed home, played with the little boys and worked on stuff for camp. The boys didn't get picked up until 10:00! They were both tired and so were we.
So there is my week in a nutshell.

I managed to write Monday and Wednesday evenings. That was it. I'm "hoping" I can write more next week. We'll see.

I hope you enjoy this next part of Dr. Morgan. Let me know what you think of it, please.

Part 4

    “This is the X-ray of her leg. As you can see, here,” and Dr. Morgan pointed, “there seems to be a slight fracture of the bone.”
    Dr. Stern nodded. “Yes, I can see that, though it doesn’t look serious.”
    “I agree,” Justin sighed. “But I’m quite concerned about the infection in her leg.”
    “Suppose I take a look now.”
    Soon the two doctors were walking along the hall. “This is quite a set-up you have here,” Dr. Stern remarked, admiring the gilt and trim in the lobby.
    Justin gave a chuckle. “No one would guess this was a hospital from the outside or the lobby.”
    “It’s not the looks that matter, it’s the work done inside that counts.”
    “That’s what my mother says,” agreed Justin. “Here we are.” His voice hushed as he opened the door to the room where Amy lay.
    Nurse Jones looked up. “No change,” she said softly.
    Dr. Morgan nodded. Swiftly removing the bandage on the injured leg, he stepped back so that Dr. Stern might take a look.
    “The other thing I’m concerned about, Sir,” Justin continued, after the leg had been examined and suggestions offered by Dr. Stern, “is her condition otherwise.”

    It was afternoon by the time Dr. Stern left the hotel turned hospital. Dr. Morgan followed him out to his car. “I think you’re on the right track with the girl’s treatment,” Dr. Stern remarked, opening his car door. “There’s not much a person can do except wait for them to wake up.”
    “Thank you, Sir, for coming out.” Dr. Justin held out his hand. “I feel more confident having talked things over with you.”
    With a smile, Dr. Stern shook the offered hand. “Glad I could help out. And Justin,” he added, using for the first time, the young doctor’s first name, “please don’t hesitate to call me anytime day or night. Even if you just want a second opinion about something, give me a ring.”
    “I will, Sir. Thanks again.”
    Dr. Stern gave a wave, backed out onto the road and headed off to Jackson.
    Turning back to the hospital, Justin suddenly felt exhausted. He had been up since six o’clock yesterday morning and it was now nearly two. “I’ll grab a bite to eat and then, . . . no.” He shook his head. “Philips,” he called to the young orderly coming down the hall.
    “Yes sir?”
    “I’m going to go take a nap in my office. Wake me up if there is any change in any of the patients or if I’m needed for anything.”
    The intern nodded and Justin turned to his office. There he had fixed a cot for just such a time though he had wondered if he would ever need it. Now he was thankful it was there. Stumbling over to it, he sank down and was asleep before his head touched the pillow.

    “Dr. Morgan!”
    Justin heard his name called and felt someone shaking his shoulder. For a moment he couldn’t remember where he was.
    “Dr. Morgan,” the voice persisted.
    Suddenly it all came back to him. His eyes flew open and he sat up quickly. “I’m awake Philips. What is it?”
    Andrew Philips stepped back from the cot now that Justin was awake. “It’s the girl in 212, Sir. She’s delirious and Nurse Jones sent me for you.”
    “Thanks.” That was all Justin said, but as he sprang up, grabbed his jacket and headed for the door, he gave his young intern a quick hand clasp before rushing for the stairs.
    Up in room 212, Dr. Morgan discovered his patient muttering and talking, trying to feebly push back the covers, turning her head restlessness  while the nurse stood beside the bed trying to soothe and calm her.
    “There, there, Child,” Nurse Jones took one of the thin hands in her own. “Everything will be all right. Just go to sleep now.”
    “No!” Amy exclaimed, her eyes bright with fever and her lips parched. “I can’t let them go! No, they are mine! Why are you here?” She demanded of Dr. Morgan when she caught sight of him. “You’re dead. No one lived. You’re an impostor!”
    The doctor and nurse exchanged glances. What was she talking about? Would her wild talk tell them anything about who she was or who the children were? Was she their mother? She looked too young for that, yet . . .
    “Amy,” Dr. Morgan spoke quietly, placing a hand on her burning face and then laying steady fingers on her wrist. “I’m Dr. Morgan. It is all going to be all right now.”
    For a moment the girl stared at him, then in pitiful, pleading tones she begged as she clutched his hand, “Oh, please, don’t let anyone take them from me. She was, . . . the sister I never had,” and her lips trembled though her eyes remained dry.
    “No one is going to take anything from you,” Justin assured, nodding to the nurse. “Now drink this for me, won’t you?” he coaxed, raising her head and holding a glass to her lips.
    After a swallow or two, Amy turned her head away saying in a complete change of tone, “Of course they’re only paper dolls. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters any more.” Her eyes closed and she lay still. Her watchers scarcely dared to breathe, hoping she had fallen asleep. That hope was a vain one, for half a minute later a cough shook the thin form and the large, dark, fever filled eyes opened. “Matt,” she whispered between coughs, “don’t forget . . . the others.” She clutched Dr. Morgan’s hand, breathing rapidly. “You won’t forget?”
    “I won’t. Now go to sleep,” Justin replied quietly, remaining where he was while his keen eyes watched his patient.
    This time the eyes did close in sleep. Not a refreshing, strength renewing sleep, only a sleep of exhaustion.
    And thus began the long, tedious, hours. Hours which turned into days and nights all running together.

Any thoughts about this part?

Should I post the next part next week?

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Triple Creek Ranch - Part 28

Okay, here is Triple Creek Tuesday. Sorry I didn't get it up earlier. I had some new writing students coming over for a class this morning so I was busy getting ready. But it is still morning on Tuesday, so I thought I'd post. Hope you enjoy it!

Part 28

    Suddenly she sat down and put a flour covered hand to her head. She felt strangely tired. “Come on, Jenelle,” she scolded herself. “This is not much more than you normally do. What is wrong with you?” After a few minutes the feeling passed and she went back to work.
    The sun came out in the afternoon and the air grew heavy. “I don’t know which is worse,” Jenelle murmured, wiping her hot face with a damp towel as she prepared supper. “The dry heat and stillness before the storm or this heavy air after the storm. At least there is a breeze.”

    It was during supper that Norman, after watching Jenelle closely, said abruptly, “You need some one to help you.”
    Jenelle laughed. “You sound like your sister,” she told him. “And what would I do with help? And who would help?”
    “Maybe Mrs. Carmond would lend us Flo for a few weeks.”
    With a smile, Jenelle shook her head. “I’m sure she couldn’t. Not with the new baby and Mr. Carmond’s invalid mother coming next week. She is the one that needs help.”
    Norman frowned. “Maybe I’ll check some of the other ranches. Surely someone could come.”
    Again Jenelle shook her head. “Darling, don’t you remember that the other ranches have as much work as we do? I’m sure no one could be spared. Please don’t worry about me. Orlena will be out of bed in another day or so, the doctor said, and she can help some.”
    “I have a feeling that she will cause more work instead of helping with it,” Norman predicted with a frown.
    Inwardly, Jenelle agreed with him, but it wouldn’t help matters to say so, therefore, she laughed and rose to clear the dishes away.
    In the kitchen such a wave of tiredness swept over her that she leaned against the counter and closed her eyes.
    “Jenelle!” Norman had his arms around her before she could open her eyes. “Darling, you aren’t well.”
    “I’m only tired, Norman. Please don’t make a fuss,” and her blue eyes looked up into his grey ones. “It’s been a busy day but—”
    “But nothing. You are going to bed.”
    Jenelle made a feeble protest but the thought of bed was too inviting to really argue. “As soon as I do the dishes,” she started.
    “I’m washing the dishes tonight. I may not be much of a hand with cooking, but Uncle Hiram made sure I knew about dishes. Now you,” he kissed the fair, pale face in his arms, “are marching straight up to bed, or shall I carry you?” he offered.
    “I can walk,” Jenelle giggled

    “There has to be someone who can come help out for a few weeks. At least until Jenelle is rested and Orlena has settled into life here,” Norman thought as he washed the dishes. “Jenelle is right though, every ranch is just as busy as we are. Perhaps there is someone in town who could help . . .” Here a new thought struck him. Did he really want someone from town coming and then spreading stories about his sister? It was hard enough going into town for shopping or church without an added person looking on every day. “We need one who won’t be shocked by Orlena and who won’t need to be trained in what needs done.” Norman spoke aloud in the empty kitchen as he began to wipe the clean dishes and put them away in the cabinets. When the kitchen was spotless, he stepped to the door and looked out as the evening light fell quietly on the barn, corrals and fields.
    Looking up into the sky full of soft colors, Norman prayed, “Lord, we need help. You know Jenelle needs a rest but she can’t get one unless we have help. It must be just the right help, for wrong help would only add to our difficulties with Orlena. There must be someone who can come help—” Norman blinked as a thought struck him. “That was a quick answer, Lord. Thank you. I’ll go right in and write.”

    It was half an hour later before Norman entered his bedroom. A light was on and quietly he moved over to his dressing table. Pulling out a drawer, he began rummaging through it.
    “Norman, aren’t you coming to bed?”
    Norman turned. Jenelle lay looking at him from her pillow.
    “What are you looking for?”
    “Just a paper I had. Ah, I have it now.” He took up a pen and copied something down. “I will only be gone a minute. I must just take this out to Hardrich.”
    Jenelle watched him, puzzled. At last she settled down, murmuring, “It was probably something for the ranch.”

    Several days passed. Jenelle felt rested and refreshed each morning but by mid day was often so tired that she had to sit down and rest for a little while. Orlena continued to improve in health but not in disposition. She was fretful and cross at the slightest thing. Her sister took her sharp words and cutting remarks without a show of irritation, always trying to shield her husband from knowledge of them, for she well knew his indignation and sense of honor would make it harder for him to love his sister as he ought.
    As for Norman, he tried to help his wife when he could and often St. John prepared meals for both the ranch house as well as the bunk house.

    It was four days after Norman had sent Jenelle to bed and washed the dishes himself that he found a letter addressed to him when Lloyd Hearter returned from town. Eagerly he ripped it open and scanned the short note it contained.

“Dear Mr. Mavrich,
    It’s honored I am that you have thought of me. I have all my affairs taken care of and can stay with you as long as you have need. Have no worries about me, I know what to expect.”

Comments,

Questions or Thoughts?

Dr. Morgan - Part 3

Good Morning FFFs,
I trust you are all staying busy. :) I certainly am! But right now it is pretty quiet. Yes, I can hear the traffic on Broadway, but it isn't too bad and I can still hear the soft tweets of small birds, the call of a blue jay and see the leaves moving gently in the morning breeze. The sun is just coming up. It is not yet high enough to make it hard for me to look out my window, but the sky is a very light blue and the few wispy clouds are a glowing white in the morning light. I'm trying to soak up this quiet before the day gets busy and I'm off running again.
As a friend put it, "I'm traveling 90 mph in life right now." :) I sort of feel the same way. However, along with my fast speed (where are the policemen to pull me over and make me go slower?) there are events, happenings, deadlines over the next hill, around the next curve or beyond the trees ahead. With those coming up, it sure makes things harder when you're traveling so fast. :P

You what to see what I've been doing? This is just the start. On Friday we went to JoAnns! It's now open! Yay! A big JoAnns instead of the tiny closet of one we've had since the tornado. And it rained! That was wonderful.
Saturday wasn't too busy but Mom and I again went to JoAnns and then to Hobby Lobby. I know we did other things that day and Friday, but in a way it seems so long ago that I can't remember what it was. :P
On Sunday we took three of our friends with us to church (the rest of their family was in Canada) and we didn't leave until after 3:00! I did get to hold my Princess and she fell asleep. :) At one point after lunch I was watching Funny Boy (almost 3), J-J (17 months), Sweet Pea (2 years), Doodle Bug (14 months), and Princess (almost a year) all by myself. :) Oh, little ones are such fun!
Monday came and I decided it really would be a good idea if I at least started planning for writing classes. :P And I was trying to get other things done.
And Tuesday came with more things to get done and they weren't getting done because I was reading.  Yes, I do get that way. Give me a good book and I'll have a hard time getting other things done.
On Wednesday I spent most of the morning getting the writing class room ready, organizing some things and thinking of new ideas for classes. My first students arrived at 5 till 1:00. Having three classes in one afternoon makes for a busy afternoon. The last class wasn't over until 4:15, but everyone didn't leave until about 5:00.
Yesterday a friend came over to learn how to quilt, we went to Connie's to check on our booth, I did get some drawing done, and then spent over an hour with one of my best friends who just came back from Canada.
And that is just the beginning! We are babysitting tomorrow, have a birthday party on Sunday, babysit again on Tuesday, have our church's family camp coming up, and I counted at least 20 things I needed to work on. And yes, one of those things was writing. I've only written one of Priscilla's letters and a little bit on a Dr. Morgan and a TCR.

But here is Dr. Morgan part 3. If you haven't read parts 1 and 2, go up and find the page labeled "Dr. Morgan." Since this is a "new" story, I really hope you'll tell me what you think of it.

Part 3

    “Dr. Morgan, the x-rays are ready whenever you want them.”
    Justin glanced up from a chart. “Thanks, Stacy. I’ll be right there.”
    For a moment, Dr. Justin Morgan continued to study the chart in his hand then, with a slight frown, he set it back down, glanced at his watch and left the office. Striding down the narrow hallway he soon reached another room where a young intern was adjusting an x-ray on a screen.
    “Well, Philips, what does it look like?”
    The young man turned. “Not bad, Dr. Morgan,” he replied. “A slight fracture right here.” He pointed to the screen before him.
    For some time only the low murmur of their voices could be heard as together the young intern and the nearly as young doctor studied the pictures. At last, Justin turned away remarking, “I’ll be back later when Dr. Stern comes. I think you’re right about the bone having only a slight break, but I don’t like the look of the leg.”
    Dr. Morgan started back down the hall stifling  a yawn. He would go check on the babies and Amy and then perhaps he could catch a few winks of sleep. Dr. Stern would get here when he could, but it was a good two or three hour drive from Jackson to this small mountain town.
    Justin took the stairs two at a time from the old hotel lobby to the second floor. Though the hotel had been changed into a hospital, the former lobby with all its guilt and trim had been kept much the same. It had always been a dream of Justin Morgan to start a hospital in his home town, and for this he had worked hard, gathering to his side as staff and hospital personnel, other doctors, interns and nurses. When no property could be had cheap enough to build a hospital, Mr. Morgan had suggested to his son the renovation of the old hotel which had been vacated only a few years before for a newer one closer to the highway. This had met with approval and the work began. When Dr. Stern, a successful doctor in the prime of life, heard of this new venture, he volunteered his services as consulting physician for anything Dr. Morgan and his staff couldn’t handle. This offer greatly boosted Justin’s idea from dream into reality.
    Now, nearly six months from the start of the project, the hospital was complete and even had its first three patients.
    As Dr. Morgan approached room 207, he could hear laughing. Wondering, he opened the door to find little Danny flirting with two nurses.
    “What is going on here?”
    The nurses turned, “He won’t sleep, Doctor,” one of them offered.
    “After a good nap earlier and a good meal, he seems ready to go,” the second nurse put in. “Neither of us can get the little tyke to stop playing.”
    Dr. Morgan couldn’t help a slight smile at the little fellow who gazed up at him out of large blue eyes and then gave a crooked grin. “How old are you, Danny?” he asked glancing at the chart by his bed.
    With another impish grin at the two nurses, little Danny held up three fingers.
    “Why, Dr. Morgan,” Nurse Franklin exclaimed, “how did you get him to tell? We’ve tried several times, and he never would tell us how old he is.”
    “The child recognizes an authority figure when he sees one,” was the reply in pretended haughty tones, but with a pleased look at Danny.
    Danny giggled as his temperature was taken and then snuggled down with a sleepy look. Dr. Morgan regarded him in silence until his eyes closed and he fell asleep. Then, turning to the nurses, he spoke softly.
    “He still has a bit of a fever. One of you keep an eye on him and let me know when he wakes up.”
    With that he left the room.
    Across the hall, he entered a second room. There he found Jenny sleeping under the careful eye of Nurse Allen.
    At his questioning she said, “Her fever is still high, but she seems to have perked up more after the last feeding.”
    “Good. I wonder how old she is?” This last was almost to himself.
    “I can’t say for sure, Doctor, but I’d guess she’s about ten months.”
    With a nod and a promise to return later, he continued his rounds.

    It was in room 212 that he stopped next. The shades were drawn so as to let in only a little light which fell upon the still figure in the white bed.
    “Any change?” this was asked of the older nurse sitting by the bed.
    She shook her head. “None, Sir. She just lies here without moving except for moaning and tossing her head.”
    “Can you get any liquid down her?”
    Again Nurse Jones shook her head. “Not much. Only a swallow now and then.”
    “Well, keep trying. I think we’ll have to start an IV feeding just to get liquid in her if she doesn’t respond soon.” As he spoke, Dr. Morgan glanced at the bandage on her leg. He was trying to decide if he should look at it now or wait, when as soft knock was heard on the door.
    Stepping to it, Justin opened it.
    “Dr. Stern just arrived, Sir,” Intern Phillips whispered.
    “Thanks. I’ll be right down.” A few quiet instructions to the nurse and then Justin hurried down to the lobby.

    “Dr. Stern, I’m glad you’re here. You certainly made good time,” the young doctor greeted the veteran with a hearty handshake. “I hope this call didn’t interrupt anything too important.”
    With a smile Dr. Stern replied, “Only my morning nap.” Then looking keenly at Dr. Morgan, he added, “You look as though you missed yours.”
    “Don’t remind me,” Justin begged. “But come,” he added suddenly businesslike, “and I’ll fill you in.”
    Leading the way to his own office, Dr. Morgan remained closeted there for a quarter of an hour.

Questions, comments, thoughts?

Do you like this story?

Should I keep working on it and posting it?

Triple Creek Ranch - Part 27

Okay, I remembered! Here is Triple Creek Tuesday! Hope you enjoy it. If you do, I hope you'll let me know. ;)

Part 27

    It was later than usual when Norman came back to the house. Jenelle went down to him as soon as she heard his footsteps.
    “I thought you had decided to stay out there all night,” she told him with a smile.
    “Nope.” Norman hung up his hat, “Alden, Scott and I were fixing a fence in the back pasture and it took longer than I thought. Didn’t St. John or Hearter stop by?”
    Slowly Jenelle shook her head. “I don’t think so, but they could have come in softly and I didn’t hear.”
    “How’s Orlena?”
    “Fretful. The doctor said she is no worse.”
    Mr. and Mrs. Mavrich had mounted the stairs as they talked and entered their room. Noticing the paleness of his wife’s face, Norman frowned.
    “What is it?” Jenelle asked him, sinking into her rocking chair with a slight sigh.
    “You,” was the unexpected answer.
    “Me?” Blinking in surprise, Jenelle stared in astonishment at Norman’s reflection in the mirror.
    For a minute only the splashing of water was heard, but when Norman could speak again he replied, “Yes, you. You are pale and look tired. As soon as St. John rings the bell, I’m sending you over to eat. I’ll remain here with Orlena until you return. Then I’ll go eat.”
    “Norman—” she began.
    “Sweetheart,” Norman interrupted her, “have you eaten anything since breakfast?”
    Jenelle nodded. It hadn’t been much, but it was something. “It’s the heat,” she began her protest again. “I just don’t feel like eating anything.” She looked pleadingly at her husband.
    Suddenly a rumble of thunder was heard and Norman dashed to the window with Jenelle close behind him. “Look at those storm clouds, Jenelle!” he exclaimed. “Those weren’t there when I came home. Thank God! We need rain,” he added fervently.
    The trees around the house began to sway in the wind, and the curtains, which had hung so still and motionless for so many days, danced on the breeze. Jenelle dropped to her knees before the open window and closed her eyes, letting the refreshing air stir her dress, whip her hair and cool her hot cheeks. Another rumble of thunder sounded, closer this time and Norman, who was watching the sky, saw the fork of lightning in the dark clouds.
    The sound of the dinner bell from the bunk house followed the thunder and caused Norman to step back from the window as Jenelle reluctantly rose to her feet.
    “Norman,” she pleaded. “I don’t want to be stuck out in the bunk house when the rain comes. Suppose you go over and bring me a plate of supper and then you can go eat with the men. I’ll just eat with Orlena and try to get her to eat some more.”
    Before he replied, Norman brushed his hand caressingly down Jenelle’s face and cupping her small chin in his hand lifted her face. “You’re tired,” he remarked. “All right,” he added. “But you have to promise to eat,” and he tried to look stern but failed completely.
    “I promise.”

    Jenelle did eat when Lloyd brought a plate, heaped with St. John’s wonderful cooking, to her, but her appetite was poor and feeling the need to be with Orlena since she was awake, made it more difficult to settle down to an empty kitchen and dining room for a large meal.

    Orlena lay silent, watching the brilliant lightning streak across the sky in jagged paths, lighting up the clouds, and listening to the thunder rumble and roll now in the distance, now close at hand while the wind, as though trying to make up for the stillness of the past days, bowed the tree tops, lashed the branches and whipped the leaves about; it was a fascinating display and Jenelle, sitting beside Orlena’s bed, watched out the windows with her. It was there that Norman found them just as the clouds seemed to split wide open and the rains poured down on the dry, thirsty earth.
    “Quite a storm, isn’t it?” he remarked in a lull between crashes of thunder.
    Jenelle turned. “I was afraid you had gotten caught in the bunk house when it began to rain.”
    “No, I made it back before it let loose, but I rather think that Hearter and Scott may be stuck in the barn a while unless they don’t mind being drenched.” He stepped across to a window and tried to look out, but it was only when the lightning flashed that he could see much. “This rain ought to cool things off a bit,” he remarked after several minutes, as the thunder lessened and the wind calmed down somewhat.
    There was no answer from the other occupants of the room and Norman turned.
    Orlena, lulled by the sound of the rain, had fallen asleep and Jenelle had leaned her head on the back of the chair and was staring vacantly at the ceiling.
    “Come on,” he said, touching his wife’s arm, “Orlena shouldn’t need you until morning.”

    It rained all night and the air felt clean and fresh instead of hot, dry and dusty. Jenelle felt more rested than she had in days and, since there were many things that needed done, she was grateful for the cooler weather.
    The day was a busy one for Mrs. Mavrich. There was laundry to wash, bread to make, rooms to dust, chickens to feed, as well as trying to amuse and nurse Miss Orlena. Jenelle didn’t know why, but after ten minutes spent in her sister’s room, she felt more tired then after washing a tub full of clothes. “Perhaps,” she mused, “it is because I can think when I wash clothes, while in Orlena’s room, she scarcely gives one time to think,” and Jenelle began kneading her bread. “I wonder if Orlena would enjoy making the beds? Dusting? Taking care of the chickens?” At every chore she shook her head. She couldn’t imagine Orlena enjoying any thing that looked like work.

What do you think now?