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“Am I what?” Laura asked, a puzzled wrinkle in her brow.
“Wonder Woman.” He chuckled.
“The last time I looked I was Laura McBride.”
“I know. I’ve heard about you for two years, and of late how much you need to come to Louisville.”
“And what was your response to that?” she challenged, lifting her chin a bit.
He laughed. “Guarded. That is, until I saw you walk through that door. Now, I’d say, you have definite possibilities.”
Dawn streaked the eastern sky just as Laura reached the interstate. Unwelcome emotions buffeted her as she rushed toward home. Like a forbidden fruit, the memory of Darlene’s offer kept playing through her mind. The lure of the city, the opportunities of a modern research hospital, couldn’t be denied.
But then there was her father, the clinic and Mark.
Mark! Yes, there was Mark. Capable, wonderful Dr. Mark Harrod, assistant chief of staff, was Dr. David McBride’s right-hand man and devoted to Laura. She shook her head attempting to dismiss Mark from the equation that plagued her. She frowned as his dear familiar face smiled from the corridor of her memory, only to be pushed aside by the image of a handsome, dark-eyed giant who whispered, “Well, are you Wonder Woman?”
Thunder rolled across the old heart pine floors, reverberating against the wall and waking Laura from a much-needed afternoon nap. A bolt of lightning illumined the curtained dimness of the room, followed by another peal of thunder and a gust of wind that shook the old farmhouse. Reluctant to move, she gathered the cool, smooth sheets beneath her chin and flinched as the furious storm outside vented its fury.
She closed her eyes and memories of last evening’s frenzy matched the rhythm of the squall outside her home. What a homecoming last night proved. No sooner had she reported for duty than she learned that for the first time she was to be left in charge of the clinic, with neither Mark nor her father in calling distance. They had been gone only a couple of hours when a major crisis had occurred.
She chuckled mirthlessly as she remembered her frustration tinged with envy when she had left Darlene yesterday. Driving home, she’d daydreamed of what it would be like to show the clinic that the youngest Dr. McBride had the skill and intelligence to be a competent physician and surgeon.
Her fantasy had become reality too soon. Near panic had engulfed her when Tom Watson arrived on a stretcher, his mangled limbs covered with blood from a logging accident. One look told her there would be no time to wait for assistance. She shuddered. The muscles in her shoulders still ached from the long hours holding a scalpel in her hand while fighting for the injured logger’s life.
Her smile broadened. Tom had survived and, without any unforeseen complications, would have only minimal disability. A warm glow spread through her even now as she remembered her dad’s arrival and the soft words of praise he spoke. Last night she had met a challenge and passed it with flying colors; now she no longer had to wonder about her ability to respond when the chips were down.
Suddenly, a sense of freedom released the tensions of last night and she sighed with relief and thanksgiving. Throwing back the covers, she hopped out of bed and bounded down the stairs to face the storm with a newfound confidence.
The red-gold boards of the flooring felt smooth and cool to her bare feet as she walked toward the front door of the stately old farmhouse. She tightened her robe around her waist and peered through the leaded-glass window in the massive oak door. The muted afternoon light caressed Laura’s face, revealing faint lines of fatigue around her eyes. She pushed against the door and stepped through.
The fierce spring squall that had rolled down from the mountains behind her, depositing a downpour on the valley, had departed as quickly as it had arrived, leaving the air washed sweet and clean. A heavy fog clung to the mountains, shrouding their peaks. Laura breathed deeply and savored the change.
A movement behind interrupted her reverie, and she turned to meet the warm affection in the eyes of her grandfather Jonah McBride. He sat in the oak swing that had been hanging serenely at the end of the porch for as long as she could remember.
She knew he had been watching the storm. “God’s fireworks,” he called them, claiming it helped a man to be reminded of the Almighty’s awesome power, lest he take it for granted.
Now his serene gaze questioned hers and he shook his head.
She explained sheepishly, “The storm awakened me.”
“Storm or not, you didn’t get enough sleep, Laura,” he barked in his gravelly voice.
“Is the doctor diagnosing the doctor?” She grinned, turning one corner of her mouth up, revealing a dimple.
“I don’t diagnose since I retired from practice. I’m just speaking as a concerned grandfather to the apple of his eye,” Jonah stated, his eyes bright blue under craggy brows. He patted the seat beside him and added softly, “Rough night, honey? Come over here and tell me all about it.”
Her smile broadened as she returned the warmth in his eyes. “As if you didn’t already know.”
“I’d still like to hear the whole story from you.”
“Dad told you about Tom?”
“Yes, but mostly he told me about a certain Dr. McBride, third-generation physician. Glowing report. Seems she saved a man’s life.”
“Not by myself.”
“You were the only physician available,” he reminded her.
“I thought I really wanted that opportunity and when it came—”
“You found out you were really a doctor,” Jonah proposed, an ancient wisdom firing his eyes.
“Yes, I found out, Papa,” Laura murmured, more to herself than him.
“And how did it feel?”
“Like sweet relief.”
Jonah chewed the side of his lip and raised one eyebrow questioningly.
“I didn’t let Dad down,” she explained haltingly.
“Is that what’s behind all this?”
“How could I ever measure up to everyone’s expectations? To most of the people around the clinic, I’m still his little girl playing with stethoscopes. Sometimes I think he still thinks I am.”
“Then why did you come back here, Laura?”
“Because I love him, and if I didn’t return, who would carry on his work? This clinic was his dream.”
“One man can’t choose another man or woman’s dream. I can’t choose for you.” He smiled, but sadness turned the blue in his twinkling eyes to gray as he added, “And neither can your dad. I should know. That’s what I did to him and it almost destroyed our relationship.”
“But his dream is noble and pure.”
Jonah chuckled a bitter little laugh, remembering. “Even so, you must find your own destiny, the one God has tailored just for you.”
“And what about the clinic? You know how vital it is to these people.”
“Then God will send someone else to pick up the mantle if you’re not the one.”
“Who’s to say I’m not?”
“No one except you. Search your heart to find the seat of your reluctance. When you find it you’ll have your answer.”
“Perhaps I’m afraid of what I’ll find,” she confessed. Her voice dropped to a whisper.
“And join millions of others who have traded fulfillment for safety and security. You are unique with gifts and dreams fashioned by a loving God just for you. Choose any other game plan and you’ll miss the excitement of fulfilling your destiny.”
“Sometimes it’s easier said than done.”
“True. However, life’s not about being easy but about being productive,” Jonah added with a shake of his head.
“I can be productive here,” Laura insisted, not yet willing to reveal her doubts.
“Sure you can.”
“Then what do you mean, Papa?”
“That it needs to be your dream and not a lukewarm extension of your father’s. I only want for you to know it is here before you commit yourself. So you’ll never have to wonder or struggle with regret.”
“But how will I know?”
“Know what?”
“The difference between mine and his.”
The question hung suspended in air, unanswered, as a muffled roar sounded.
Jonah stood and moved stiffly toward the railing, looking up. He cupped his ear, tilting it upward toward the steady drone.
“Can you see anything, Papa?”
“It sounds like a plane, but who would be foolish enough to fly in this weather? Must be a truck down on the state highway straining up Clingham’s Bluff with a heavy load.”
Then from directly above the house came the unmistakable whine of an airplane engine.
Laura joined Jonah and the two of them stood transfixed as they watched a small, single-engine plane lose altitude, its bright-red stripes glowing valiantly in the gray afternoon light.
Laura moaned, “He’s too low. He’ll never clear the mountain.”
With one last sputter, the engine died. They stared at the mountain now enveloped in fog, unable to tear their eyes from the little plane hurtling toward disaster. The small craft struggled on, before disappearing into the fog. A few moments later a flash of light pierced the gray shroud, then only silence reigned.
Laura whirled from the porch railing. “Papa,” she yelled over her shoulder as she climbed the stairs two at a time. “Call the hospital and tell them we’ll need to get a medivac copter from Louisville. I’ll saddle Maleeka and go on ahead. It may be a while before they can take off, since that storm is between the city and us.
“But, Laura, what can you do all alone up there?” Jonah protested.
Laura shot her grandfather a mischievous look. “Who was just reminding me what a competent doctor I am?”
Jonah McBride, acquiescing, nodded, a lock of thick white hair falling across his forehead. “Do you think there is a large enough level space for the copter to set down?”
“I believe there is a small plateau near the top,” Laura answered, her voice muffled by her closed bedroom door.
Laura had suited up and returned with bag in hand in record time. Her heart was pounding when Jonah met her at the bottom of the stairs, his deep-blue eyes grave with concern.
“I called the hospital. They’ll be ready. Won’t you wait for Mark? That trail is pretty treacherous after a storm. You know your mom got stranded on it one time.”
Laura smiled reassuringly at her granddad, all the while fighting the temptation to wait for Mark. She knew he had the afternoon off and her father was in surgery. She couldn’t risk the wait. Besides, didn’t she need to assume more responsibility?
“There’s a difference between Mom and me. I know the trail—she didn’t.”
“Nevertheless, it’s not safe to go up there alone. You know what kind of condition it’ll be in after that storm.”
“Do you think Mark could change the condition of the trail?”
“No, but being a man—”
“I can ride just as well as he can, Papa.”
“And doctor, too, but you might need just a little more muscle than you’ve got.” His eyes lingered on her small slender frame.
“We don’t have time to wait,” she responded gently when she encountered the fear in his eyes. Then she added with more confidence than she felt, “I’ll take some extra rope and let Maleeka make up for the muscle I lack. Suit you?”
“I guess it’ll have to. I’d give anything if these old legs would let me go up there with you. Maybe if we saddled up Stormy I might make it—”
Laura shook her head at her grandfather. “Dad would have my hide, Papa. Anyway, I need you here to direct the rescue and keep an eye out for my flares. I’ll drop some about every quarter of a mile once I get on the mountain, so you can follow my path. You will be more assistance here than on that narrow trail.”
“How are you going to get back down?”
“I don’t plan to let night catch me up there,” she said.
“What if it does?”
Laura shrugged nonchalantly and bent over to kiss her grandfather. “We McBride women seem attracted to that mountain. Don’t you worry. I won’t be the first one to spend the night up there if I have to.”
Her light tone did nothing to reassure Jonah, and he frowned, worry etched in every line of his face. “I don’t think that’s anything to make light of, Laura. Your mother was lucky she didn’t get hurt any worse than she did. You might not fare so well.”
“Luck, Grandfather? You know better than that. Mom’s destiny awaited her there. Who knows—maybe mine does, too. Anyway, we have no other choice and I could’ve already had Maleeka saddled by now. Your ‘grandfathering’ has overcome your medical instincts.”
“I just love you so, kitten,” he responded, his eyes moist and bright.
“I know, but I’m going to be all right. You just help me and your ‘kitten’ will be back before you know it,” she teased, as a lump in her throat threatened her studied composure. It had been a long time since her granddad had called her by that childhood endearment.
Chapter Two (#ulink_528db517-1b4f-5724-9e60-6e75e696c1e4)
Laura spoke softly to Maleeka and the bay mare changed smoothly from canter to gallop as if sensing the urgency in the gentle command. For a few minutes her mistress remained tense in the saddle, as images of the disaster somewhere up above her tumbled through her mind.
Once again she was to face an emergency without the reassuring presence of Mark Harrod. She wrinkled her nose slightly at the thought of Mark and smiled. She had come to depend on him as a mentor, friend and adviser. He encouraged her when she was down, teased her unmercifully, yet was always protective of her. Perhaps her grandfather was correct—she had been hiding in Mark’s shadow, afraid to trust her own judgment.
Thick pine straw carpeted the trail, while the fragrance of cedar lingered in the air, fresh and clean smelling after the rain. The branches strewn here and there testified to the violence of the brief storm. What if there were larger trees ahead blocking the narrow path higher up the mountain? No need to borrow trouble; she would deal with that if and when she had to.
The broad trail eased up through the forest and she knew Maleeka would make good time for the first few miles. Soon the steady gait of her mare provided a rhythmic therapy. Her shoulders relaxed and her body leaned into her mount, as horse and rider became one.
The magnificent mare sensed the release and thundered through the forest. Gradually, the pure joy of riding pushed aside the memories of Laura’s hectic night, and the apprehension of what awaited her on the mountain retreated. For a few brief moments she gave herself completely to this balm of relaxation that could restore her alertness and quicken her reflexes.
Soon the grim line of her mouth eased but the fine lines of fatigue still lingered around her eyes. She closed them for a moment. The wind bathed her face in a refreshing coolness, and her abundant silvery blond hair escaped the scarlet ribbon that loosely bound it, to stream out behind her in wild profusion. Freckles sprinkled her slightly upturned nose and a determined chin hinted of an independent spirit, adding the final touch to a face that was half woman-half child and altogether enchanting.
The mare slowed her pace as the trail narrowed and bent sharply to the right, where it intersected another. They had reached the foot of the mountain. Laura reined Maleeka in and peered upward. The trail’s narrow, boulder-strewn surface was muddy and slick from the rain. Even though her mount was a strong, surefooted Arabian, it would take more than skill to maneuver up that mountain. She would need a miracle.
