Love's Abiding Joy (Love Comes Softly #4)(43)

Clark smoothed her hair and held her close. His trembling eventually stopped. He could even speak.

"Yer right. It'll be all right. Guess it jest takes some gettin' used to." And then Marty just let herself go and cried out all of her pent-up worries and frustrations. "Oh, Clark," she sobbed. "I'm sorry. So sorry thet it had to happen to you like this. Iffen I could have jest taken yer place. . I know how important it be to a man to be whole--to be able to feed an' care fer his family. I could have done my carin' from a chair. It wouldn't have mattered near as much to me. Oh, Clark! I'm so sorry."

"Hush now, hush," said Clark. "Yer actin' like a hysterical woman. This don't change things. I can still be a-carin' fer my family. One leg ain't gonna make a lot of difference. Hush now. Iffen the Lord hadn't a figured thet I could do without thet there leg, He wouldn't have 'llowed this, now would He?"

At length, Clark got Marty comforted and in control. He pushed her gently away from him. "An' now," he said, "iffen ya don't mind, I'm feelin' in the need fer some rest. I'll talk to ya in the mornin'. Now ya send thet there doc back in here, will ya?"

Marty left the room and sent in Juan. Juan entered the room, his pulse racing. He remembered the other incident when his brother had discovered his missing limb. He didn't blame any man for taking the news hard. He stood silently, looking at the big man lying still on the bed. Clark was the first to speak.

"I heard thet I owe ya my life." Juan said nothing. Perhaps



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Clark did not yet know about his leg.

But Clark went on. "It must be a powerful hard decision fer a man to make--even a man trained in medicine--to take a man's limb an' spare the man's life, or let him die with both legs on. I'm glad thet I've never had to do the choosin'. I want to tell ya 'thank you' for being' brave enough to make the choice fer me when I wasn't able to make it fer myself. I would have chosen to live, Juan--even without the leg--I would have chosen to live. Life is good--an' life is in the hands of Almighty God. Now, I'm not sayin' thet I fancy learnin' to live without a leg. I'm not pretendin' to be some hero thet it won't bother none. But I am sayin"thank you' fer givin' me thet chance. With God's help, I'll make it. If He 'llowed it, then He must have a plan to git me through it, too. Fer He plans only fer my good."

Juan stood watching Clark, not speaking. There were no angry cries, no cursing, no incriminations coming from Clark. He knew of his handicap--he knew of his loss--but he had accepted it and even thanked the doctor for giving him a chance to live. There was a difference here. A distinct difference between the way this man accepted his handicap and the way his own brother had. What made the difference? Juan determined to do some thinking on it when he could get off by himself and take the time. One thing he already knew--where his brother had cursed God, this man thanked God. Perhaps. . . perhaps it had something to do with that.

Clark interrupted his thoughts.

"An' now, doctor, I don't be pretendin' thet this here hasn't shook me up a bit. It's gonna take some thinkin' on to git used to the idea. I don't much feel up to thinkin' at the moment. Ya happen to have somethin' to help a man git a little sleep instead? I think thet it might be easier to handle come morn in' . "

Dr. De la Rosa moved to prepare some medication.

Clark did not go to sleep immediately. He spent time thinking, even though he wished that he could shove the whole problem off to the side and pretend that it did not exist. He



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also did some praying--deep, soul-searching praying--asking for God's help in the hours of adjustment and growing. He even did some weeping--heart-rending weeping--with sobs that shook his large frame. When it was all over, he wiped away the tears from his gaunt cheeks, set his chin, and reached for the unseen hand of God. He never discussed his inner feelings concerning his handicap again.



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Chapter Nineteen




Adjustments



Marty often thought that Clark's recovery was slow indeed, but to Dr. De la Rosa, it was a daily miracle. Clark was doing much better than the doctor had dared even to hope. When one considered what the man had been through, his convalescence was truly amazing.

Willie had kept the family in the East informed throughout the whole ordeal by the means of telegrams. A great measure of relief accompanied the cable assuring them that Clark was well on the way to recovery. He stated that, at the present, he was still unable to give them a date for Clark's return home. The answer soon came, "Pa, don't hurry. Everything fine here. Letter following." Marty anxiously waited for the arrival of the letter.

As she sat mending one of Nathan's small shirts, Marty was surprised to discover that it was well past the time they had planned to have returned to their farm. How different the trip had turned out from what they had expected it to be! Marty quickly realized that Clare's wedding was only days



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away. She and Clark would not--could not--possibly make it back in time for the wedding. Deep disappointment flooded through Marty. She would hate to miss the wedding, but neither would she want the young couple to postpone it on their account. Then Marty thought of Luke's plans to go off to college. She should be home right now preparing his clothes and getting him ready. How she hated to miss that! A few unbidden tears slipped down and Marty wiped them away quickly before they could be observed. But Luke was so young. It was hard enough to let him go, but without her there to-- She stopped herself. She'd be crying in earnest if she didn't get herself under control.