Love's Abiding Joy (Love Comes Softly #4)(46)

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Clark eventually turned once more to Juan. "I'm a wonderin', Doc, iffen I might see ya in the privacy of my room fer a few minutes," asked Clark. Juan offered his arm and Clark managed the distance with short, awkward hops.

Clark sat on his bed and caught his breath. He needed some kind of a crutch. He must get busy fashioning one. Hopping was far too difficult and drained him of what little strength he had.

"Something troubling . . . ?" began Juan, concerned. "Yah," said Clark easily, "I'm a-thinkin' thet there is." The doctor automatically reached for the offending limb and began to unpin the pant leg, but Clark stopped him. "Leg's jest fine, Doc."

Juan was puzzled.

"Something else is bringing you pain?"

"Well, ya might say thet."

"And where is it hurting?"

"Well, I don't rightly know. Thet's what I was gonna be askin'."

Juan's puzzled frown deepened.

"Well," said Clark, watching Juan closely, "I kinda got the feelin' thet somethin' was hurtin' the doctor and he wasn't feelin' free to say anythin'."

Juan looked startled, and moved away to the window and stood looking out on the soft fall night.

"It shows that much?"

"It shows."

"I am indeed sorry. I did not mean to bring my feelings to this home, to bring sadness to those I care for."

"Anythin' thet ya care to talk about . . . or thet I could do?" asked Clark.

Juan stood in silence for several minutes and finally turned with a deep sigh and troubled eyes.

"I think that you have heard my story--at least in part. You know that I became a doctor against my father's wishes. You know too that I was responsible for my own brother's death--"

But Clark's hand stopped him. "No," he said emphatically,



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"thet's not the way I heard the story. Yer brother had gangrene in a bad leg; you amputated, as you had to. Yer brother chose to take his own life."

Juan waved that aside. "My father does not see it that way. He told me to leave that night and forbade me to ever return to his home again."

"I'm sorry," said Clark. "It must be very hard for you."

"It is. It is very hard. Now that I am again going to practice medicine, I wish with all of my heart that I could do so with my father's blessing." Juan hesitated, then continued. "That sounds very foolish to you, I'm sure, but--"

"Not at all. I think thet I'd be a-feelin' the same way." "You would?"

"To be sure I would."

There was silence. Clark broke it. "What of yer mother? Is she still livin'?"

"I don't know. Perhaps that is what bothers me the most. My mother never dared to say so, but I think she was proud that I had chosen to be a doctor. When my father sent me away, my mother, for the first time in her life, dared to protest. She fell on her knees before him and pleaded that he reconsider. In the name of Mary and all the saints, she asked him to allow me to stay. 'Must I lose both my sons on the same night?' she cried. I can see her yet, and the vision haunts me. If only I knew that my mother was all right."

"Why don't ya jest go on down an' find out?"

"Return home?"

"Sure."

"But my father has not asked me to come."

Clark shrugged his shoulders.

The minutes dragged by as Juan struggled with the thought. Then Clark asked softly, "Are ya afraid?"

"Of my own father?" Juan's shock showed the insult of such a question.

"Well, I don't be knowin' the man. Have no idea what he might do."

"My father would never harm me, if that's what you are thinking."



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"I'm thinkin' nothin'," responded Clark simply. "You were doin' the thinkin'."

Juan nodded his head in reluctant agreement.

"So," said Clark, "since ya have nothin' to fear, why is it a problem to go back?"

"I have not been asked," said Juan with a great deal of dignity. "To go back so would be like a stray puppy, crawling home for forgiveness and acceptance. Even my father would scorn such--"

"Ya mean it's a matter of pride?" Clark asked quietly. Juan's head jerked up, his black eyes flashing fire.

"I understand," Clark nodded gravely. "A man does have his pride."

There was silence again. Juan began to pace the room. The air around them seemed to be heavy with unspoken ideas. Clark again dared to break the silence.

" 'Course a man can, with God's help, swaller his pride an' do what he knows he should. Iffen yer mother is livin', I'm sure thet she is hurtin' too. She has no idea iffen you're alive or dead. An' iffen yer father is still livin' an' has maybe changed his feelin's some, how would he ever be findin' ya to let ya know?"

Still Juan struggled with the issue.

"You do not know--" he began.

"No," agreed Clark, "I do not know. I'm admittin' to thet. But God does, an' I don't think thet you're admittin' to thet. Shore thing, I wasn't raised as you was raised, but things have been a bit tough fer me at times, too. Life can be pretty quick to take a swipe at a man. Sometimes we can't duck the blows. We jest gotta take 'em head-on. They smart a bit, to be sure. But . . . " Clark allowed his gaze to rest on his stub of a leg, "He knows all thet. He not only knows, but He cares. He doesn't ask from us thet we understand or even like what we face, but jest thet we face it like a man, an' do what we know to be right, regardless of the fact thet it goes against us at times."