Free Fervent Charity by Paulette Callen

ignite a spark between him and her eldest daughter, Alvinia Torgerson had already invited him to dinner, but Betty was in love with her poor farm boy. Alvinia had not considered the evening a waste, however, since Alice was almost seventeen, and Betty could still change her mind.
    Doctor Llewellyn asked Red Standing Horse after the health of Carrie and the children, greeted Gustie and then followed her around the back of her wagon to meet his new patients. A grim look crossed his face, but he covered it briskly. “Right, then. Let’s get them inside.”
    The second room of the doctor’s modest office had four narrow beds. They laid the children in one of them and Mrs. Lesner in another. “You can bunk in here with your family, Mr. Lesner,” the doctor invited.
    Reuben Lesner nodded gratefully, took his hat off and sat gingerly on the edge of the extra bed, his hat in his hands. Doctor Llewellyn’s offer could have been simply a kindness, suspecting the man had no money for a room, but Gustie wasn’t sure. She was no physician, but, to her eyes, Reuben Lesner was not looking particularly well either.
    “Have they had something to eat?”
    “They were given stew and bread. I don’t know if they were able to eat much,” Gustie replied.
    Red Standing Horse unloaded the Lesners’ belongings, piled them under the eaves and headed back to the mission while Gustie helped the doctor settle them in. The entire family was immediately asleep. She wondered how long it had been since they had lain in real beds.
    Doctor Llewellyn walked Gustie outside. She asked, “Any idea what’s wrong with them?”
    “Besides malnutrition and exhaustion, I’m not sure. I don’t like the looks of that boy. On your way out of town, could you stop by the Tollefsons? Ask Mrs. Tollefson to come around. She acts as my nurse. Good she is too.”
    Gustie smiled at the lilt of Welsh music in the doctor’s speech. No, he would not remain a bachelor for long, not while Alvinia had marriageable daughters.
     
    How eager people were to marry! The rhythm of Biddie’s hooves on the dirt road reminded Gustie of waking up a few nights ago to what she thought was the sound of hoof beats. Once her eyes were open, however, and staring into the darkness, listening, all she could hear was the regular thumping of her own heart. She threw back the quilt, lit the lantern, put on her glasses, and picked up the pocket watch lying on her nightstand. It said two o’clock.
    She pulled on some warm clothes, tucked her hair up under her old conductor’s cap, and took the lantern outside. A damp wind eddied around her, licking the glass lamp, unable to consume its small fire.
    When she opened the barn door the amiable mare whickered her customary greeting even though Gustie was four hours earlier than usual. Gustie led her out of the barn and over to the fence. She hung the lantern on the post, unsnapped the lead rope and re-attached it on either side of the halter for reins, and giving herself a leg up on the slats of the fence, mounted Biddie’s bare back. On the dark road to Charity, low cloud cover meant she had to trust her own good night vision and the mare’s instincts to keep to the road.
    She nudged the horse into a fast walk. The worst that could happen was that she would get to Charity, the feeling of urgency that had drawn her out on this blustery night would dissipate, and she could go home and back to bed. No one but Biddie would know of their wild goose chase. They covered nearly three miles when the mare stopped suddenly and snorted. Gustie heard panting sounds of grief and exhaustion before she was able to discern a figure in the road.
    The panting stopped as fear of an unknown horse and rider clutched the woman who stood before her. Gustie hastily uttered reassurance into the night. “Lena, it’s me. Gustie.”
    “Oh!” A cry of relief. “Oh, what are you doing out here?”
    “I guess I’ve come for you. Hand up the baby and get on behind