The Alaska Brides Collection Part 79

"It's all right, Gerry. Momma's here."

"It hurts real bad, Mommy," Gerald managed between his cries.

"Son, can you bend your neck as if you were going to look down your nightshirt?" the doctor questioned.

Gerald made a valiant effort, but it only caused more pain. "No, no. It hurts," he whimpered. Tears formed in Beth's eyes as she watched her child suffer.

"It's all right, son. I'm a doctor, and I'm going to help you."

Gerald said nothing as the doctor eased him back on the bed. The boy reached out for his mother, and Beth immediately took hold of his hand. She waited in silence while the doctor finished his examination and took Gerald's temperature.

"You just rest now, son. I'm going into the hall with your mother so we can figure out how to make you feel better." The doctor finished putting his instruments into his black bag and motioned Beth to follow him.

Beth knew by the look on the doctor's face that the news would not be good. She felt her knees weaken as she pulled the bedroom door closed behind them.

"I'm afraid your son has all the signs of spinal meningitis," Dr. Stevens began. "I can't be certain without running a number of tests, including a complicated procedure called a spinal tap. I don't have the facilities in town to help your boy."

"What is spinal meningitis?" Beth asked anxiously.

"It's an infection that attacks the membrane surrounding the brain and spine. I'm afraid it's often fatal."

"What am I to do?" Beth questioned frantically. "He has to have help. I don't care what it costs or where we have to go."

"I know. I know," the doctor said as he put his arm around Beth. "What we have to do is get your son to a good hospital."

"But how and where?" Beth asked.

"My suggestion would be Fairbanks. I happen to know there's a supply plane headed there in two hours. I believe we should have your son on that plane."

"Then he'll be there," Beth said, regaining a bit of her composure. "I'll get him ready. Just tell me what to do."

"We'll need to keep him from getting chilled, so bring his blankets. I'll get my nurse to accompany you on the trip. She'll know what to do."

"What about Phillip?" Beth questioned. "He's my younger, and he shares a room with his brother." Fear reverberated in every word.

"He should be fine," the doctor replied, placing a hand on Beth's arm. "We don't quarantine for meningitis because there is no conclusive information about the risk of contagion."

Beth felt only minor relief at the doctor's words. "I'll need to get word to Mrs. Hazel Miller on Second Street. She'll need to come and stay with Phillip. I'm afraid I don't have a telephone. Could you send word to her when you get back into town?" Beth asked hopefully.

"I'd be happy to. I'll also get a couple of soldiers to drive you and your son to the airport. Just wait here until they arrive," the doctor instructed.

"I'll be ready."

An hour later, Beth waved a hesitant good-bye to Phillip and Mrs. Miller. The soldiers showed up as promised, and with them came the nurse who'd a.s.sisted Beth at the doctor's office. The woman literally took over and left Beth with nothing to do but look on in helpless frustration.

The drive to the airstrip was a short one, but to Beth, every minute smothered her in apprehension. The soldiers pulled up next to the transport plane and within moments had moved Gerald and the nurse to the stripped-out fuselage of a Lockheed Vega.

Beth's worried look caught the attention of the pilot. "Don't worry, ma'am. We'll have your boy to Fairbanks in less than two hours."

Beth offered the man a fleeting smile. "Thank you. I know you'll do your best." She allowed him to help her up into the plane, her mind filled with only one thought.

"Dear G.o.d," Beth breathed against the drone of the airplane's radial engine, "please help my son. Please heal my baby."

Chapter 12.

August rotated his shoulder gingerly and waited for any indication of pain. When none came, he smiled. Finally, he was able to move with nearly the same mobility he'd had before the accident.

He offered a wave to the pilot who'd just landed him at the Northway airstrip, then went in search of the Public Roads office and his boss.

Several minutes later, August was sitting beside the cluttered desk that Ralph Greening continued to work from whenever in Northway.

"Catching up on paperwork is worse than dealing with the dirt, rain, and mosquitoes," Ralph griped. "I just got back from our old camp. You certainly gave us a scare," he added, offering August a cup of coffee. "This stuff 's getting mighty hard to come by up here, so don't ever say no when somebody offers you a free cup," he teased.

August took the coffee and lifted the mug slightly. "To your health!"

Ralph laughed and joined him in the salute. "And to yours!"

The coffee tasted stale and was only lukewarm, but August didn't care. He was finally going to see Beth again, and he was anxious to complete his work with Ralph.

"Doc says I can go back to work, but nothing too strenuous," August said with a grin. "Whatever that means."

"It might mean that you're not to be dumping Caterpillars over the edge of muddy embankments again." At this both men laughed.

"Yeah, I suppose that's what he meant," August agreed and continued. "Anyhow, the way I see it, it's all up to you. You just tell me where to report, and I'll take care of getting there."

Ralph nodded, but then the thought of Bethany Hogan's hasty retreat from Northway came to mind. He'd only learned of her troubles that morning. His frown and knitted brows caused August to put his coffee mug down.

"What is it? What's wrong?" August asked.

"I went to see Mrs. Hogan today. You know, I wanted to tell her about your accident. I already felt bad that so much time had pa.s.sed since you were flown to Anchorage, but I had no way of getting back here to tell her," Ralph said apologetically.

"I understand, Ralph, and I'm sure that Beth did," August offered.

"No, she wasn't there," Ralph said with a shake of his head. "Mrs. Hogan had one of her boys take sick. He was pretty bad, and they had to get him to a hospital. They flew out a couple days ago. I think they took him to Fairbanks."

August turned ashen. "Which boy?"

Ralph leaned back and closed his eyes. "I think it was the older one, but I can't be sure. Can't picture him in my mind. You'd best go on down to the roadhouse and ask Mrs. Miller. She's been taking care of the place and the other boy."

August was already on his feet. "I'll do that. I guess it might be a spell longer before I'll be ready to work after all," August said as he made his way out.

"I kind of figured that," Ralph called after him.

August took off at a full run for the roadhouse. He came up the path panting and out of breath, with an aching in his shoulder that hadn't been there that morning. He pounded on the front door and waited impatiently for someone to open up.

"Why, Mr. Eriksson," Mrs. Miller stated in disbelief. "We thought you'd left for good."

"I was injured in an accident and flown to Anchorage. I just returned not more than a half-hour ago, and Mr. Greening tells me that Gerald is sick."

Mrs. Miller nodded, and her eyes turned misty. "Poor little boy," she said in a hushed tone. "The doctor doesn't expect him to make it."

"What?" August nearly yelled the word. "What in the world are you talking about? What's wrong with him?"

"Spinal meningitis," Mrs. Miller said ominously. "Beth flew with him to the hospital in Fairbanks, but the doctor said he might already be too far gone. With meningitis, there's just no way of knowing."

"What about Phillip?" August asked with dread.

"Oh, he's fine," Mrs. Miller answered with a smile."We've been baking since before light. He's asleep right now, but I could wake him if you like."

August barely heard the words. He felt sick at the thought of Gerald dying and knew that it would be hard to see Phillip just then. He thought of Beth in Fairbanks, bearing alone the burden of her desperately ill child. "No, don't wake him. I've got to get to Beth," he muttered.

"I know it'd mean the world to her," Mrs. Miller said with a bit more composure. "She talked so often about you, wondering where you'd gone and if she'd ever see you again."

August nodded. "I've thought a great deal about her, too. Being in a sickbed does that for you-gives you plenty of time to think about the things you wished you'd done differently."

"I know she'll be needing you now," Hazel replied, touching August at the elbow. "She cares a great deal about you."

"I know," August said, turning to leave.

Hazel called out after him, "Please let us know how Gerald is."

"I'll do that. I only hope I'm not too late," August called over his shoulder as he bid the older woman a hasty good-bye. "Tell Phillip that Daddy was here and that I'll see him real soon."

"I will, Mr. Eriksson. I will," Mrs. Miller called out and waved. She whispered a silent prayer for the man as he rounded the bend and disappeared from view.

G.o.d was with August as he hurried back to the airstrip. He managed to secure pa.s.sage on a plane going to Fairbanks, and after their scenic flight and b.u.mpy landing, August went in search of the hospital.

The Fairbanks hospital wasn't a stately affair, but it was efficient. August hastened to find a nurse who could direct him and then made his way to the room where she said he'd find Gerald and Bethany.

At least he's still alive, August thought as he made his way down the corridor. Through the doorway of Gerald's room, August saw Beth.

She looked frighteningly small and helpless as she prayed at the bedside of her dying child. He could nearly hear her pleading words as she begged for the life of her son.

Hesitating on the threshold, August wondered how she'd react to his arrival. He glanced at Gerald's pale, nearly lifeless form and back again to the boy's mother. "Dear G.o.d," August breathed, "please hear her prayers."

August stepped forward. The noise caught Beth's attention. Her mouth dropped open at the sight of August.

"August," she breathed the word.

Beth looked gaunt and drawn, but August thought her beautiful. He opened his arms, praying that she'd come to him.

Without hesitation, Beth got to her feet, crossed the room, and wearily fell into August's arms. "Oh, August, I prayed you'd come. I prayed that G.o.d would find you and deliver you to me. Does that sound hopelessly selfish?" she questioned in a sob.

"He heard your prayers about that and then some," August stated. "I've come back to you, but only because I came back to G.o.d first."

Beth pulled back with tears streaming down her face. "Really? Oh, August, that's the best possible news. Now if only..."

August cupped Beth's quivering chin in his hand. "If only Gerald would get well," he answered for her.

"Yes," Beth replied. "August, he's so sick, and Dr. Matthews doesn't know whether he can get well or not."

"Is it meningitis as they feared?" August asked softly. He glanced over Beth's shoulders at Gerald.

"Yes," Beth answered and reached up to take hold of the hand that held her. "They sent for an experimental drug from the States, but it hasn't seemed to help."

"Well, we will have to pray together for him," August said tenderly.

Beth closed her eyes and nodded. "I've prayed alone enough for both of us, but I know there's strength in numbers. I'm afraid this time we need all the help we can get."

"Don't worry, Beth. You never have to be alone again. I've done a great deal of thinking and growing up as well. While I had nothing to do but lay in that hospital bed-"

"What?" Beth said pulling away from August. "You were in the hospital? But why? Are you all right?"

"Relax," August said, pulling Beth back against him. "I was in an accident a while back. It happened while I was grading the highway. The tractor fell over an embankment that had been weakened by rain. I'm fine now-just a little stiffness in my shoulder and a scar on my head."

Beth's eyes searched for the red welt. She reached up a hand and pushed back August's hair to reveal the scar. "Oh, August!" she exclaimed. "Does it hurt you still?"

"Not much. My collarbone was broken, and it still smarts a bit if I overdo, but really I'm fine. I just didn't want to send a letter to explain all that had happened. I wanted to wait until I could see you in person."

"I thought you hated me and had left for good," Beth blurted out honestly. "I felt so bad for sending you away." She glanced back at Gerald. "The boys were just heartbroken."

August nodded. "I knew they would be, and I hated myself for walking away. I knew I needed to listen, but I couldn't make myself turn around. What you said was exactly what I needed to hear. Of course, I couldn't see that until I was half-dead. Then, it was as if G.o.d had seen that simple methods wouldn't work with me, and He reached down with something I couldn't ignore."

"He usually does," Beth said with the slightest beginnings of a smile.

August acknowledged hers with a smile of his own. "G.o.d knew he was dealing with a particularly stubborn case. I'd run as far as I could, and when G.o.d couldn't pin me down any other way, I guess He used a tractor." August's words were lighthearted in spite of his ordeal.

"I confessed my sins, knowing that the only thing real in my life was my relationship with G.o.d. I remembered when my mother had put me on her knee and explained that each of us needed a Savior. Some people seek one in a lifestyle or a job, she said. Others try to force people into that role, but what we need is Jesus.

"I remember even now how amazed I was that Jesus had come to earth to save my soul. It only took remembering that simple wonderment to make me take a more realistic look at what I'd done to myself. You were a brave woman to stand your ground with me, Beth."

Moaning from the bed brought Beth and August to Gerald's side. "I'm not so brave," Beth murmured, looking fearfully into August's eyes. August placed his hand against the boy's fiery brow, while Beth took his hand.

"I'm here, Gerry. Momma's here," Beth whispered softly. Gerald calmed, opened his eyes, then closed them again. Beth began to cry softly. Exhausted by her vigil at Gerald's sickbed, she collapsed across the edge of the bed.

August came and lifted her to her feet. "Beth, come on. You have to rest."

"No! I must stay with him," she protested as August led her from the room. "He might wake up, and I don't want him to be afraid."

"We'll just be down the hall. I'll tell the nurse to watch over him. She'll let us know if he wakes up," August said firmly as he pulled Beth along.