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Authors: Linda Lee Chaikin
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over him.
“Yes.”
“Father, where did you put the glyceryl trinitrate?” she asked.
“Medical satchel. Desk.”
Eden looked toward the desk, where Keno stooped to pick something up from the floor. Ambrose was now kneeling by Jerome as Keno stared at a letter.
“Keno, the satchel—do you see it?” she called.
He slid an envelope into the desk drawer and brought her the medical bag.
Eden swiftly located the familiar bottle. She took a tablet and placed it under his tongue.
She noticed that Ambrose was praying silently.
Twenty minutes passed before she was satisfied with his improving signs. He may have been suffering angina before the attack this morning. If so, why had he not carried his medicine with him? He was becoming lax, even careless in the excitement of coming to Molokai to work on the clinic and see Rebecca.
“He’s looking a little better,” Ambrose said.
“Yes, I’m feeling better.”
Eden took his hand with both of her own. “The last time you had an attack you told me it taught you not to go anywhere without your medicine in your pocket,” she scolded. “Oh, Father, you’ve been much too worried these past weeks.”
“Yes, you’re right. This was a sober warning to me—both to manage my impatience, and to be reminded from the Lord how short my time here is.”
“You’ll need to rest all day,” she insisted. She expected him to argue, but surprisingly he agreed. He looked at Keno, standing by the foot of the bed. “As the captain says, the weather is against us right now anyway.”
Keno smiled at Jerome’s humility. “You’re right, sir. Those waves are mighty rough. I don’t think they’ll settle until sunset.”
“Yes, we’ll be wiser if we wait until morning,” Ambrose suggested, and looked toward Keno.
“No argument this time,” Jerome said meekly. “Though I do prefer to rest in my own quarters instead of the captain’s quarters if you and Ambrose wouldn’t mind bringing me to my bunk,” he said with a rueful smile.
“Now, Father, you need to rest while I watch your heartbeat. I think you should remain here for a few hours.”
Jerome smiled weakly. “You see how blessed I am to have a daughter who’s a nurse?” he said to Ambrose and Keno. “Very well, my dear. I’ll be an obedient patient.”
Eden smiled too, but her heart was sober. She mused about how long it took to locate his medicine.
And what did Keno pick up from the floor that seemed to bother him? He didn’t think anyone noticed as he put it in the desk drawer
.
Dr. Jerome slept comfortably in the captain’s cabin. The ship’s creaking filled Eden’s ears as she gazed at her father’s face. She finally stood from the chair and left the cabin to breathe some salty fresh air and quiet her anxiety.
She rested against the ship’s rail and looked toward Molokai, which was shrouded with clouds and rolling gray mist. She was troubled about that white envelope in the desk drawer.
Keno had quickly glanced at her after looking up from the letter. It must have something to do with her. After all, the cabin had previously been the place where Rafe, as captain, had lived on the ship.
It’s none of your business
, she told herself.
Why can’t you leave these matters to God whom you say you trust? If His eye is on the sparrow, can’t He arrange your circumstances? If an unexpected tidal wave submerges your dreams, there must be a reason. Don’t charge ahead, taking disappointments into your own hands
.
Whatever the envelope contained worried Keno, though. And whatever worried Keno when it came to Rafe Easton was usually important.
Eden returned to the captain’s cabin. She looked at the bunk bed. Her father remained asleep.
In the glow of the oil lantern heavy, dark beams and shadows confronted Eden. Yes, this had been
Rafe’s
cabin. She thought again of Rafe leaving the Islands without seeing her or even sending a letter. True, Dr. Jerome had explained that Rafe was going to San
“Yes.”
“Father, where did you put the glyceryl trinitrate?” she asked.
“Medical satchel. Desk.”
Eden looked toward the desk, where Keno stooped to pick something up from the floor. Ambrose was now kneeling by Jerome as Keno stared at a letter.
“Keno, the satchel—do you see it?” she called.
He slid an envelope into the desk drawer and brought her the medical bag.
Eden swiftly located the familiar bottle. She took a tablet and placed it under his tongue.
She noticed that Ambrose was praying silently.
Twenty minutes passed before she was satisfied with his improving signs. He may have been suffering angina before the attack this morning. If so, why had he not carried his medicine with him? He was becoming lax, even careless in the excitement of coming to Molokai to work on the clinic and see Rebecca.
“He’s looking a little better,” Ambrose said.
“Yes, I’m feeling better.”
Eden took his hand with both of her own. “The last time you had an attack you told me it taught you not to go anywhere without your medicine in your pocket,” she scolded. “Oh, Father, you’ve been much too worried these past weeks.”
“Yes, you’re right. This was a sober warning to me—both to manage my impatience, and to be reminded from the Lord how short my time here is.”
“You’ll need to rest all day,” she insisted. She expected him to argue, but surprisingly he agreed. He looked at Keno, standing by the foot of the bed. “As the captain says, the weather is against us right now anyway.”
Keno smiled at Jerome’s humility. “You’re right, sir. Those waves are mighty rough. I don’t think they’ll settle until sunset.”
“Yes, we’ll be wiser if we wait until morning,” Ambrose suggested, and looked toward Keno.
“No argument this time,” Jerome said meekly. “Though I do prefer to rest in my own quarters instead of the captain’s quarters if you and Ambrose wouldn’t mind bringing me to my bunk,” he said with a rueful smile.
“Now, Father, you need to rest while I watch your heartbeat. I think you should remain here for a few hours.”
Jerome smiled weakly. “You see how blessed I am to have a daughter who’s a nurse?” he said to Ambrose and Keno. “Very well, my dear. I’ll be an obedient patient.”
Eden smiled too, but her heart was sober. She mused about how long it took to locate his medicine.
And what did Keno pick up from the floor that seemed to bother him? He didn’t think anyone noticed as he put it in the desk drawer
.
Dr. Jerome slept comfortably in the captain’s cabin. The ship’s creaking filled Eden’s ears as she gazed at her father’s face. She finally stood from the chair and left the cabin to breathe some salty fresh air and quiet her anxiety.
She rested against the ship’s rail and looked toward Molokai, which was shrouded with clouds and rolling gray mist. She was troubled about that white envelope in the desk drawer.
Keno had quickly glanced at her after looking up from the letter. It must have something to do with her. After all, the cabin had previously been the place where Rafe, as captain, had lived on the ship.
It’s none of your business
, she told herself.
Why can’t you leave these matters to God whom you say you trust? If His eye is on the sparrow, can’t He arrange your circumstances? If an unexpected tidal wave submerges your dreams, there must be a reason. Don’t charge ahead, taking disappointments into your own hands
.
Whatever the envelope contained worried Keno, though. And whatever worried Keno when it came to Rafe Easton was usually important.
Eden returned to the captain’s cabin. She looked at the bunk bed. Her father remained asleep.
In the glow of the oil lantern heavy, dark beams and shadows confronted Eden. Yes, this had been
Rafe’s
cabin. She thought again of Rafe leaving the Islands without seeing her or even sending a letter. True, Dr. Jerome had explained that Rafe was going to San
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