in our small town.”
Now Van der Vort had crossed the line. Enoch expected men to ask him to treat them, but he always refused. People might give their opinion about women as physicians. Though it wasn’t necessarily enlightened or kind, Enoch tolerated such blather. But the blacksmith had just judged and condemned his sister. “There is nothing wrong with someone—man or woman—using the gift God gave them. You, of all people, should be grateful.”
Taylor’s patient glowered at him. “I’m not going to be a testimonial for her.”
“She didn’t ask you to.”
“Good thing.” Van der Vort closed his eyes. “Anyone can sew.”
“Know many who can take three metal shards out of a man?” Slamming a handkerchief onto the bed next to the patient’s hand, he ordered, “Open that.” Anticipating Taylor would have to prove herself, Enoch had saved the pieces she’d removed during the surgery last night. Jagged and sharp as could be on many points, all three measured about an inch long.
Van der Vort let out a long-suffering sigh, complied, then flipped the edge of the handkerchief back over the mean-looking pieces. “The part my brother took out was bigger and longer.”
“Is that all that matters to you—what you can see on the outside?”
A single crack of a laugh blurted from the patient. “Very clever. A man who loves and protects his family—I can respect that. But your sister . . .”
“You will treat her with the utmost respect.” Enoch stared at the blacksmith as he gave the command. “My sister is a godly woman and a lady.”
“Who does a man’s job.”
“More than a man. We fought last night. Your brother and I told her to amputate. She didn’t just save your life; she saved your leg.”
For a moment, Van der Vort went silent. “I won’t treat her disrespectfully. That much I give you, but don’t expect more. I still believe what she does is wrong.”
“No one asked your opinion.”
“I get an opinion. I’m in a bed, and she’s in and out of this room.”
Staring a hole through him, Enoch bit out, “Now that you’re conscious, she’ll never be here alone with you.”
Dishes rattled on the stairs. Taylor was coming. Lord, please open this man’s eyes or close his mouth. When Taylor reached the landing, the floorboards creaked.
“Talcum powder.”
Taylor entered the sickroom. “You need talcum powder, Mr. Van der Vort?”
“No, you do.” He grinned at her.
“That’s enough.” Enoch thrust himself between his sister and the man.
“Dump talc on the floor and rub it into the cracks. It’ll sift down to the joists and stop the creaks.”
Setting the tray on a three-drawer bureau, Taylor smiled. “For that, you may have coffee and a little something to eat.”
The blacksmith fell upon the baked goods like a starving man. A pang shot through Enoch. Keeping this man here would mean feeding him whatever food they’d been given. Other than that, the kitchen didn’t have anything in it. With her patient in a better mood, Taylor removed the dishes. “My brother will assist me in examining your wound.”
“He’ll look at it and tell you how it is.”
“The relay has begun, and you chose your partner. You cannot change that now.”
Van der Vort’s fair eyebrows slammed together and his blue eyes turned to ice. “I did not choose you to be my partner.”
“Ah, but you did. Furthermore, I carried out my part of the agreement. I helped you, and I didn’t amputate your leg.” Taylor gave him a stern look. “On the other hand, your only contribution to the partnership was whistling me deaf and getting a horse in my surgery.”
“See?” He turned to Enoch. “Fanciful imaginations are just another reason women aren’t intended to be—”
“Your grandfather’s leg was amputated. Or at least I assume it was your grandfather. You called him Opa when you asked for my help. Yes, you grabbed my wrist, rolled off the table, and begged me to help you
Now Van der Vort had crossed the line. Enoch expected men to ask him to treat them, but he always refused. People might give their opinion about women as physicians. Though it wasn’t necessarily enlightened or kind, Enoch tolerated such blather. But the blacksmith had just judged and condemned his sister. “There is nothing wrong with someone—man or woman—using the gift God gave them. You, of all people, should be grateful.”
Taylor’s patient glowered at him. “I’m not going to be a testimonial for her.”
“She didn’t ask you to.”
“Good thing.” Van der Vort closed his eyes. “Anyone can sew.”
“Know many who can take three metal shards out of a man?” Slamming a handkerchief onto the bed next to the patient’s hand, he ordered, “Open that.” Anticipating Taylor would have to prove herself, Enoch had saved the pieces she’d removed during the surgery last night. Jagged and sharp as could be on many points, all three measured about an inch long.
Van der Vort let out a long-suffering sigh, complied, then flipped the edge of the handkerchief back over the mean-looking pieces. “The part my brother took out was bigger and longer.”
“Is that all that matters to you—what you can see on the outside?”
A single crack of a laugh blurted from the patient. “Very clever. A man who loves and protects his family—I can respect that. But your sister . . .”
“You will treat her with the utmost respect.” Enoch stared at the blacksmith as he gave the command. “My sister is a godly woman and a lady.”
“Who does a man’s job.”
“More than a man. We fought last night. Your brother and I told her to amputate. She didn’t just save your life; she saved your leg.”
For a moment, Van der Vort went silent. “I won’t treat her disrespectfully. That much I give you, but don’t expect more. I still believe what she does is wrong.”
“No one asked your opinion.”
“I get an opinion. I’m in a bed, and she’s in and out of this room.”
Staring a hole through him, Enoch bit out, “Now that you’re conscious, she’ll never be here alone with you.”
Dishes rattled on the stairs. Taylor was coming. Lord, please open this man’s eyes or close his mouth. When Taylor reached the landing, the floorboards creaked.
“Talcum powder.”
Taylor entered the sickroom. “You need talcum powder, Mr. Van der Vort?”
“No, you do.” He grinned at her.
“That’s enough.” Enoch thrust himself between his sister and the man.
“Dump talc on the floor and rub it into the cracks. It’ll sift down to the joists and stop the creaks.”
Setting the tray on a three-drawer bureau, Taylor smiled. “For that, you may have coffee and a little something to eat.”
The blacksmith fell upon the baked goods like a starving man. A pang shot through Enoch. Keeping this man here would mean feeding him whatever food they’d been given. Other than that, the kitchen didn’t have anything in it. With her patient in a better mood, Taylor removed the dishes. “My brother will assist me in examining your wound.”
“He’ll look at it and tell you how it is.”
“The relay has begun, and you chose your partner. You cannot change that now.”
Van der Vort’s fair eyebrows slammed together and his blue eyes turned to ice. “I did not choose you to be my partner.”
“Ah, but you did. Furthermore, I carried out my part of the agreement. I helped you, and I didn’t amputate your leg.” Taylor gave him a stern look. “On the other hand, your only contribution to the partnership was whistling me deaf and getting a horse in my surgery.”
“See?” He turned to Enoch. “Fanciful imaginations are just another reason women aren’t intended to be—”
“Your grandfather’s leg was amputated. Or at least I assume it was your grandfather. You called him Opa when you asked for my help. Yes, you grabbed my wrist, rolled off the table, and begged me to help you
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