Authors: Gilbert Morris
The man bowed slightly and smiled. “I’m sorry I don’t recognize you. It will take me a little time to become acquainted with everyone.”
“I’m sure. I’ve enjoyed your sermons very much,” Gabby said with a smile. “But now you must excuse me. I must hurry to the infirmary.”
“Of course, Doctor,” Van der Klei said. The two men watched as the shapely young woman moved down the hall and turned up the stairs.
“She’s young to be a doctor,” Reverend Citroen remarked.
“Yes, she got her degree only a few months ago.”
“Her Dutch is impeccable, but I heard the slightest of accents. Is she Dutch?”
“No, she is English. The niece of possibly the most famous man in this country—Dalton Burke.”
“Yes, I’ve heard of him. A prominent scientist indeed.” Citroen cocked his head to one side. “She’s a very pretty woman,” he observed. “Not married?”
“No, but don’t waste your time. Many young men have tried to court her. She’s a very dedicated physician and hardly has time for a social life. She works full-time at the hospital, yet still finds time to take care of our children here and never charges a guilder.”
“She sounds like an admirable Christian.”
“Yes, that she is.”
Citroen, who was unmarried and accustomed to the admiration of ladies in his congregation, smiled. “I hate to see a lovely woman be alone. She needs a husband and a family.”
The director shook his head. “I suppose you’re right, Reverend, but she has withstood some rather high-powered courting, I understand.”
Citroen smiled. “It only takes the right one.”
****
Gabby met Mrs. van der Klei at the infirmary. The director’s wife was an attractive woman of thirty-five, who smiled nervously as she came forward. “I’m so glad you’re here, Dr. Winslow.”
“Is there more sickness? Anything critical?”
“It’s Nicola. She has a very high fever.”
“I’ll see her at once,” Gabby said.
Gabby walked rapidly to the girl’s bedside, followed by Mrs. van der Klei. They found the girl lying flat, her cheeks flushed. She smiled, however, when she saw Gabby.
“Good morning, Dr. Winslow.”
“Good morning, Nicola,” Gabby said. “You’re not feeling well today?”
“Not very well.”
Gabby took the girl’s temperature and examined her. She
had already become a very proficient doctor and was a favorite at the orphanage. It had been a joy for her to work with the children, a relief from the difficulties of the city hospital in Amsterdam, where she had worked as an intern.
“Nicola, do you know anyone who has had the measles recently?”
The girl nodded her head and then said, “Ohhh,” as she realized why Gabby had asked the question.
“
Oh
is right. I’m afraid that’s what you have.”
“Good heavens,” Mrs. van der Klei exclaimed. “That means all the children will get it!”
“Not necessarily, but it might not be a bad thing if they did.”
“Why, how can you say that, Doctor?”
“Most children are going to contract the measles at some point, and they might as well get it as early as possible.”
Nicola’s eyes had grown large. “The measles? Will I have spots?”
“I’m afraid you will, but they won’t last long, and we’ll take very good care of you.”
“Will you come back and see me every day?”
“Every single day. Now, you lie there while I go check on your friends.”
As they moved on to the next bed, Mrs. van der Klei shook her head. “I don’t know what we’d do if it weren’t for you, Dr. Winslow. The children so depend on you. You always seem to brighten their day.”
“Why, you would have another doctor,” Gabby said pleasantly.
The woman shook her head. “The one we had before you came was very gruff. The children didn’t like him at all, but they all love you.”
Mrs. van der Klei accompanied Gabby as she examined the rest of the children. When they had seen the last one, she asked, “Are you going to the fete this afternoon?”
“Oh yes,” Gabby said. “I always look forward to it.”
“Are you going to dress up and tell fortunes again?”
“Absolutely.” A small dimple appeared to the left of her mouth, and humor danced in her eyes. “It’s my one chance every year to behave foolishly. Everyone expects a doctor to be so sober all the time, so it’s really fun for me.”
Mrs. van der Klei laughed. “You do it very well. I remember you told my husband’s fortune last year. It almost convinced him that you really could predict the future.”
“Nothing like that. It’s all nonsense, really.” Gabby’s lips stirred with a pleasant expression. “Will you be there, Mrs. van der Klei?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then perhaps I’ll tell you your fortune.”
Gabby turned to leave, but Mrs. van der Klei said, “Say, have you met the new pastor, Reverend Citroen?”
“Yes, your husband just introduced me to him downstairs.”
“So fine looking and such a good preacher.” She arched an eyebrow. “There’s a catch for you.”
“A pastor doesn’t need a doctor for a wife. He needs someone who can go to teas and be sociable with the members of his congregation. But I’ll tell his fortune. Maybe I can match him up with a suitable girl. Maybe Doreen Hofmeyer.”
“But she’s so—plain.”
“A minister’s wife
should
be plain. Movie stars are the only ones who need to be beautiful.” Gabby laughed and shook her head. “Now I’m being foolish. I’ll see you later.”
****
“Are you leaving soon, Gabby?” Dalton asked. He had run into Gabby as she came down the stairs. His glasses were pushed up on his head, and his clothes were disheveled, as usual.
“Yes, in about twenty or thirty minutes.”
“Are you going by my mother’s?”
“Oh yes. I have to stop there for my gypsy costume I keep there.”
“Come and have a cup of tea with me before you leave. I need to talk with you.”
“All right, but I can’t take long. I must be at the church as early as possible. I have to make money for the missions, you know.”
Dalton smiled. “I know, but this won’t take long.”
The two went into the dining room, where Liza joined them around the heavy walnut table for a cup of tea. Dalton had gathered some papers together that he needed his mother to sign. “Be sure you bring them back with you,” he said. “Mother’s getting a little forgetful lately.”
“I’ll take them, but I think you’re wrong, Uncle. Her mind is as sharp as ever,” Gabby said.
“Is that fellow Lang Zeeman going to the festival with you?”
“Yes, he is. And I’ve got to go, or we’ll be late.” She kissed her uncle and her aunt and then left the house.
As soon as she was outside the door, Liza said, “I don’t think Zeeman is good company for Gabby.”
“No, but how do you tell her that?” Dalton shrugged. “He’s handsome, and his family’s rich. And Gabby does seem to have a mind of her own.”
“That may very well be, but you know as well as I do that he’s a wild young fellow. He’s very careless in how he treats others, and he’s not a Christian. I’m worried about Gabby.”
Dalton was troubled also about his niece’s relationship with Lang. After sharing their concerns for several minutes, they prayed for Gabby. They were both intensely proud of their niece’s achievements and wanted to help her in any way they could. “Does she ever talk about her parents with you?” Dalton asked.
“Never. Has she spoken to you?”
“Not once in all these years. It’s like she’s buried all her memories of the past.”
“I think they’re too painful for her, Dalton.”
“I’m not sure that’s good. I wish we could have recovered
her parents’ bodies and had a proper burial. I think it gives us a focal point for our grief, helps us to begin the healing process.”
“But there was no chance of that. They went down with the ship.”
“I know, so she never really had a chance to say good-bye to them.”
The two sat silently for a time, and finally Liza said, “She’s a very strong woman and a fine Christian. She’ll be all right, but I wish she were interested in someone besides Lang.”
****
Gabby stood in front of the mirror in her great-aunt’s extra bedroom, checking out her gypsy costume. She had used dark foundation on her face and hands and had covered her dark hair with a bright-colored scarf. Gold earrings glittered as she moved. She pulled on a vest over her brilliant green blouse and fastened the gold coins she had sewn on for buttons. Her aunt Liza had helped her make her outfit years ago. She topped the outfit with the necklace she always wore—the one Madame Jana had given her in another lifetime, it seemed. She twirled around and watched the long skirt brush the top of her black kid boots. She plucked a silk shawl from the shelf and draped it over her shoulders.
“Would you like your fortune told?” she asked her reflection with a thick accent, trying to mimic Duke and Marissa’s accent as well as she could. “You will have good fortune.” She laughed and shook her head. “You would never have made it on the stage. It’s a good thing you became a doctor.” While Gabby knew she wasn’t talented enough to act professionally, she did love to dabble in it when the opportunity presented itself. She had often recruited friends and staff at the orphanage to help her put on skits and short plays for the children, complete with costumes and makeup. Her great-aunt was kind enough to let her keep everything she needed for these plays in the closet in the spare bedroom.
She left her bedroom now and found Dorcas out digging in the garden.
“You look like no young woman should look,” Dorcas said.
“But, Grandmother, I look like a gypsy, don’t I?”
She sniffed. “Foolishness, I say!” She got to her feet carefully, saying, “Oskar said Samson is harnessed. You be careful, now.”
“What can happen to me at a church festival, Grandmother?” Gabby leaned over and kissed the woman on the cheek. “I’ll come home and tell you all about it tonight.”
“Plain foolishness! God doesn’t need our help collecting money.”
Gabby laughed. She was accustomed to her great-aunt’s tart remarks about parties.
She went to the old carriage house that had once kept a buggy and the horses for transportation. Now the place had a musty smell, but she found Samson already hitched up to the wagon. She remembered how she and Oskar had labored over it, putting false sides on it, making it into an authentic-looking gypsy caravan. It had windows now and was painted red and green and yellow. She walked over to the horse and stroked its nose. “Samson, are you ready to go?” She dodged and laughed as he tried to nibble at her fingers. Lifting her long skirt, she climbed up into the seat. “Oskar, have you seen Lang?”
“He’s waiting out in front. I told him you’d be right there.”
Gabby took the lines from him and slapped them on the back of the horse. Samson moved out slowly. He was getting older now but was still capable of pulling the wagon, at least as far as the church. When she reached the front of the house, she turned slowly into the drive and saw Lang leaning against his car. He came over to the wagon.
“Well, I’m here, but I don’t like it.”
“I wish you’d let me dress you up too. You’d look handsome in a bright red shirt and earrings.”
“I’m not dressing up and that’s final.” Lang Zeeman was a
fine-looking man of twenty-six. He had once been in medical school, but he had dropped out, abandoning his studies out of sheer laziness. He was witty, and his family had plenty of money, so there was no reason for him to feel insecure. He had the reputation of being rather wild, and the sleek, powerful car he drove gave evidence of his exorbitant taste. He was very fond of Gabby.
He clambered up in the wagon seat beside her, grumbling, “I don’t see why you want to do this. It’d be much easier just to make a contribution.”
“I
am
going to make a contribution,” she said. She clucked at the horse, which started up at once. It was May, and the weather was cool but pleasant. The sun sent its yellow beams down, and as the wagon rumbled over the cobblestones, the two rocked gently from side to side.
“You should have become an actress. You like to dress up and play roles so much.”
“What roles do I play?”
“Oh, you play being a fortune-teller, and you play being a doctor,” he teased her. “I think you see yourself in a drama always—the great doctor Gabrielle Winslow rushing to save those threatened with death by plague!” He laughed and put his arm around her, pulling her close and kissing her on the lips.
She quickly pulled away.
“You’re not too good at playing love scenes, though. Too shy.”
“Lang, somebody will see us!”
“What if they do? We’re courting, aren’t we? As a matter of fact,” he said almost gruffly, “we’ve been courting so long I feel like I’ve got a long white beard.”
Gabby laughed at him and pushed him away. “You stay on your own side of the seat. At least in daylight.”
Lang brightened up. “Oh, all I have to do is wait until dark, and then you’ll come to my manly arms!”
Gabby rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to
the road. She had mixed emotions about Lang. He seemed serious enough at times, but the way he lived troubled her. She found herself drawn to him, for he was charming and highly intelligent. He worked in his father’s factory, and one day he would own it, but still there was something that kept her from making a commitment. She knew he cared for her, but she didn’t know if his interest was anything more than temporary. She also was aware that he had dated a number of women, which bothered her greatly.
****
The fete was a rousing success, and at the end of it, Reverend Citroen came across the park to applaud her efforts. “Congratulations! You must have taken in a bundle. You were busy all day.”
“Yes, Reverend, I was busy, but I had lots of fun. I know the missionaries will make good use of the money we made.”
“I know you’re right about that.” He put his hands in his pockets. “A few of us are going to get together tonight to celebrate a successful fund-raiser. I’d like you to come if you could.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I have another engagement.”