Buch lesen: «Adam's Promise»
The lecture he’d heard before he came to Doctors Without Borders rose in his mind. Staff needed the ability to work together and live as a team, to manage stress, to be tolerant and flexible.
Flexibility was for the nurses and technologists, not surgeons, but here, he had to adjust.
Instead of heading back toward the nurses’ station, Adam headed for the dispensary to carry back a few supplies. He dug into his pocket for the dispensary key, but as he neared the doorway, he saw it was ajar.
Who would leave the room unlocked? He picked up his pace and pushed open the door.
“What are you doing?” he yelled.
A shot tore through him. Heat and pain seared his flesh as his legs buckled.
GAIL GAYMER MARTIN
loves life. She cherishes her husband, family, singing, traveling and her Lord. With all those blessings, God gave her one more gift—her dream of writing novels. Gail is multipublished in nonfiction and fiction, with eighteen novels and seven novellas. Her novels have been finalists for numerous awards and have won the Holt Medallion (2001 and 2003), The Texas Winter Rose (2003), the American Christian Romance Writers 2002 Book of the Year Award and a nomination by Romantic Times as Best Love Inspired Novel of 2002.
Besides writing, Gail travels across the country guest speaking and presenting writing workshops. She lives in Lathrup Village, Michigan, with Bob—her husband and best friend.
She loves to hear from her readers. Write to her at P.O. Box 760063, Lathrup Village, MI, 48076 and visit her Web site www.gailmartin.com.
Adam’s Promise
Gail Gaymer Martin
But the Lord is faithful,
and He will strengthen and protect you
from the evil one.
—2 Thessalonians 3:3
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Dr. Adam Montgomery—After surviving several attempts on his life, the arrogant surgeon has a change in attitude—and in faith.
Katherine Darling—The compassionate nurse offers lots of tender, loving care to Adam as he recuperates.
Liza Montgomery—Adam’s mother can’t resist matchmaking for her eldest son.
Frank Montgomery—The mayor of Colorado Springs is concerned about his injured son as well as the city’s rising crime rate.
Dr. Lionel Valenti—Is Adam’s co-worker suffering from a mere infection…or something more insidious?
Detective Samuel Vance—Can he stay objective while working on his friend’s case?
FAITH ON THE LINE:
Two powerful families wage war on evil…and find love.
ADAM’S PROMISE—
Gail Gaymer Martin (LI #259, July 2004)
FINDING AMY—Carol Steward
(LI #263, August 2004)
GABRIEL’S DISCOVERY—Felicia Mason
(LI #267, September 2004)
REDEEMING TRAVIS—Kate Welsh
(LI #271, October 2004)
PETER’S RETURN—Cynthia Cooke
(LI #275, November 2004)
PROTECTING HOLLY—Lynn Bulock
(LI #279, December 2004)
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed the first story of the series FAITH ON THE LINE. Though Adam’s and Kate’s struggles may be a little different from our own, many of us cling to our flaws and fears and let them control our lives. Kate held on to her past, ashamed of what people might think. Adam used his aloofness and arrogance to shield him from relationships.
But the most important lesson in Adam’s Promise is what God will do for us if we let Him. He will give us strength and protection, and Jesus, the Good Shepherd, will find us when we stray and return us safely to the fold.
If flaws and griefs of the past hold you in bondage, remember that Jesus is the Way and “God works for the good of those who love Him.”
Next month look for Carol Steward’s Finding Amy, in the continuing saga of FAITH ON THE LINE. You’ll spend more time with the Montgomery and Vance families as they fight to rid Colorado Springs of crime.
Thanks for reading Steeple Hill Love Inspired. May God send you His richest blessings.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter One
“I don’t get it.” Kate Darling pivoted her head toward Dr. Adam Montgomery standing in the clinic’s office doorway.
“Get what?” Adam pulled his shoulder away from the doorjamb, his stethoscope swaying at his neck as he crossed the room.
Kate gestured toward the papers she held, then used them as a fan. “We ordered adequate supplies last month, but we’re running short again. I’ve checked against our computer records, and it doesn’t match. I helped stock the last shipment, and now I’m wondering where my mind is.”
“I’ve wondered that myself,” Adam said, standing above her and watching Kate’s cheeks tint a soft shade of pink.
Her chair grated against the wooden floor as she shifted and rose to face him. “I’m sorry that you find me inadequate, Dr. Montgomery.”
Adam stepped back, surprised at the spunky attitude she’d shown lately. Should he remind her that she was only a nurse? He held back the comment, figuring the hot, humid climate had set them all on edge. “I didn’t question your ability as a nurse, Miss Darling. You’re an exceptional nurse. I question your competence in keeping accurate records of our supplies.”
Her eyes narrowed, and the look she sent him nailed him to the floor. “Perhaps we should hire a local to handle supplies. Is your Spanish prolific enough to give her orders?”
Adam held up his hand to calm the waters. “I’m not arguing with you, Katherine. We’re dealing with drugs here, and we need to be responsible. We can’t lose cartons of morphine and Demerol.”
“I didn’t lose anything. I just can’t find the boxes.” She spun around and headed for the doorway.
He watched her rounded hips sway as she charged across the room. Besides being irked by his comment, he knew she hated him to call her Katherine. Everyone called her Kate, but Adam thought that calling her Katherine kept things more professional.
Before she passed through the doorway, Kate paused, eyeing him over her shoulder. “You know, when I volunteered for Doctors Without Borders, I agreed to leave my cozy apartment and come to this village miles from nowhere, except mangroves and jungle.” She spun around to face him. “But I didn’t agree to be called inadequate.” She pivoted again and hurried out of the room.
“Look, Katherine. Come back…please.”
In a moment, she reappeared in the threshold, her arms folded across her chest.
“I’m not blaming you. It’s a month between shipments, and when we come up short—”
“I know.” Kate stepped into the room and approached him, her arms swinging in a hopeless gesture. “I’m upset, too. I don’t understand what happened.”
A movement at the doorway caught Adam’s attention.
“What happened?” The clinic’s internist stood inside the doorway, eyeing the two of them. “What’s the problem?” Perspiration beaded Lionel Valenti’s face, and he pulled out a handkerchief to blot the moisture.
“Our supplies,” Kate said, her tone as defeated as she looked.
Valenti’s gaze shifted from Kate to Adam as if not sure who had the answer. “What about them?”
“We’re running low on some of the meds,” Adam said, studying his co-worker’s face with concern. The man’s haggard look grew worse everyday, and Adam prayed he hadn’t contracted some type of jungle virus. The Venezuelan climate had been difficult for everyone.
“I hadn’t noticed,” Valenti said. “When I give away meds, I list them on the charts.”
“No one’s accusing anyone,” Adam said. “But according to Katherine, the computer records and what’s on the shelves don’t match.”
Valenti shrugged. “Our new shipment should be here on Thursday. It is the second Thursday of the month, isn’t it? If so, we don’t need to worry.”
“I’m not worried about running out. I’m worried about being accountable,” Adam said.
Kate held up her hand to halt the discussion. “I forgot to tell you. I got a call this morning. The Thursday shipment will arrive on Tuesday, two days early.” She shrugged. “Don’t ask me why.”
Valenti eyed his watch. “Tuesday. July sixth.” He swung his arms out at his sides and let them drop. “Then there’s no problem. In four days we’ll have a restocked dispensary.”
“But that still doesn’t answer my question,” Kate said as she marched toward the doorway and vanished into the hallway.
“What’s eating her?” Valenti asked.
Adam shrugged. “Prima donna. She doesn’t take criticism well.” He swung his frame into the chair Kate had vacated and eyed the computer screen. “She’ll get over it.”
Valenti leaned over with him and studied the monitor. When he drew back, he swayed and grabbed the chair back to steady himself.
Adam looked into his colleague’s face. “I’m concerned about you, Lionel. You don’t look well. You’re flushed and look tired. Have you checked your temperature?”
“It’s nothing,” Valenti said, waving Adam’s words away. “It’s the climate. I hate humidity. And I’ve got a sinus infection.”
“You sure? If you need a day off, we’ll cover for you.”
“No need. I’m fine.” Valenti dug his hands into his lab coat pockets. “We’re all looking bad. It’s this late shift.”
“Someone has to do it,” Adam said.
Valenti shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. There’s not much to do here anyway except slap at mosquitos and listen to those incessant insects.”
“This isn’t Colorado Springs.” Adam chuckled. “I have to keep reminding myself this is Santa Maria de Flores. No luxuries here.” He swiveled the chair from side to side, thinking of the comfortable town house and silver sports car waiting for his return. “I soothe myself with the thought that people wouldn’t have medical treatment if we weren’t here.”
“You sound like a true humanitarian, Adam.”
Valenti’s comment had a sarcastic ring to it, but Adam didn’t challenge the man. He’d been tense lately. Like Valenti had said, so had everyone.
Prima donna. Kate stormed away from the doorway with Adam’s words ringing in her ears. If she were going to tag someone with that label, his name wouldn’t be Kate. Daily she struggled to put a Christian spin on Adam’s arrogance. He irked her to the core with his Katherine this and Katherine that. Who did he think he was?
Kate’s footsteps whispered along the hallway as her thoughts swung from her frustration with Adam to her admiration. The man could be self-centered one minute and filled with compassion the next…when it involved the patients. Beneath her irritation, she admired the man. He’d come from a prestigious family in Colorado Springs. His father was the mayor, and yet, here he was in Venezuela providing health care to the poor in a rustic community so many miles from the comforts of home.
Kate reached the end of the long hallway, turned right for a short distance and entered the dispensary on the left. She scanned the shelves again, concerned. Had she mislabeled the inventory when it arrived? She pulled the ladder to the end of the row and checked the boxes lining the wall.
Perspiration beaded her skin, and with her exertion, moisture collected along her hairline and rolled down her face, stinging her eyes. She blinked and climbed down from the ladder.
Stepping back, she tripped over a pile of empty cartons and gave them a swift kick. A box cart-wheeled through the air and landed near the doorway.
“Take that, Adam Montgomery,” she said, then chuckled at her childishness.
What made her most angry was her attraction to the man. Since they’d arrived, she’d watched him work and had observed his skill as a plastic surgeon. He transformed deformed children into beautiful youngsters—healthy and unscarred by their tragic births or their horrible mishaps. And, though Adam strutted his stuff in the office, she witnessed a humility when it came to working with the families. His kindness touched her heart. Somewhere beneath that arrogance was a true Christian man.
Longing for a breath of air, Kate turned off the dispensary light, locked the door and walked a step farther to the outside delivery door. Once a month a truck pulled up behind the clinic to bring lifesaving drugs and supplies to the volunteer group of doctors, nurses and personnel who worked there.
Darkness enshrouded her as she stepped outside. No convenient streetlight glowed to dispel the gloom. Only the moon’s faint glint flickered from beyond the tree leaves. She stood beside the door, drawing in the humid air. An occasional whiff of breeze rustled the grasses around the stucco building, her home away from home.
Home. She didn’t allow herself to think about home. She loved her small apartment in Colorado Springs. She’d made something of herself despite her difficult past, a past she pushed out of her mind as soon as it entered.
Kate peered into the night until her eyesight adjusted to the darkness. In the moonlight, she could see the silhouette of the wild chinaberry and trumpet trees whose dried rose and white flowers still lay crumpled beneath their branches. Despite the remoteness, Kate felt safe surrounded by jungles, lagoons and mangrove swamps.
Feeling comforted by the night, Kate drew in a calming breath and opened the door, returning to her quandary. She passed the dispensary door and treaded the hallway toward the front office. When she turned the corner, she spotted the local woman who cleaned and did odd jobs at the clinic. Kate hurried forward. “Hola, Carmen,” Kate called.
Carmen stepped backward from an examining room and smiled, her white teeth contrasting her tanned skin. “¿Sí?”
Kate slowed her walk and pantomimed as she spoke. “Did you store medicine somewhere besides the dispensary…la farmacia?”
“¿Mi? ¿Medicina?”
“Sí. Did you?”
Carmen’s eyes widened. “No, señorita. No sé nada.”
I know nothing. Kate peered at the woman, sensing perhaps she did know something.
The young woman’s eyes shifted back and forth, and she clutched her hands to her chest.
They had always trusted Carmen. She’d worked for the clinic the past two months, but… Kate cringed at her suspicion. She had no reason or right to accuse this woman without any more proof than a faint inkling. Kate realized she was looking for a scapegoat for her own mistake. Keeping track of the inventory was her responsibility.
“Está bien,” Kate said, letting Carmen know everything was fine. She waved her hand in the air as if erasing her earlier question.
A look of relief covered Carmen’s concerned face. “Sí. Gracias.”
Kate forced a halfhearted smile, then continued toward the office. Surprised that she’d let her thoughts wander in such a horrible direction, Kate asked the Lord for forgiveness. Why would Carmen steal the drugs? Kate needed to check the computer again. Perhaps she overlooked something.
But she didn’t think so.
Four days later, Adam grasped a moment’s reprieve and looked out the small window of his office, watching the sun set behind the wild chinaberry tree. A coconut palm stood tall, unbending in the windless sky. Heat permeated the room, and a pesky jejen—a small voracious fly—circled past, hoping to sink its stinger into his body, Adam figured. He swatted the insect away, then left the office and headed down the hall.
He stopped at an examining room door and checked the clipboard, then walked inside to greet the mother cradling her infant who had received plastic surgery on a cleft palate three weeks earlier.
“Hola,” Adam said.
The mother murmured a greeting, not lifting her gaze from her child. Anxiety weighted the woman’s expression, and Adam tried to calm her with his limited Spanish.
With the mother standing beside him, he removed the sutures and motioned to the scar. “Luce bien,” he said, hoping she agreed that it looked flawless.
She beamed.
As she watched, he demonstrated how to massage the scar in a circular motion, encouraging her to try her hand at the needed therapy. When she finished, he disinfected the site.
“Señora Fernandez, mírame, por favor.” He gained her attention and pointed to the dressing, demonstrating how she should change the sterile strips.
The woman nodded, seeming to understand.
Adam lifted the infant and cushioned him in his arm, grateful for the skill God had given him to make a child’s life better. Too many children were born with deformities in this land of poverty. Sometimes he wondered how a loving God could allow this to happen, but he’d been raised to trust the Lord and know that all things had a reason.
He turned his thoughts back to the infant and headed to the storage cabinet to locate a supply of plastic strips to give the mother. He knew she would have little money to buy her own.
The cabinet looked almost bare. Why didn’t someone see that supplies were in each room?
A rap on the door jarred the thought from his mind. Adam turned, and his pulse skipped. Katherine. Could she read his mind? She stood in the doorway with a pile of sterile strips and bandage supplies clutched in both hands and piled against her chest.
“Sorry to disturb you.” A curious look washed over her face as her gaze shifted from him to the baby he held cradled in his arm.
“The supplies just arrived, and I know this room is short,” she said. “I imagine you want some of these for Señora Fernandez.”
“Thanks,” Adam said, puzzled by the coincidence. He returned the infant to his mother while Katherine stocked the cabinet with supplies. Before she left, Katherine handed him several sterile strips.
He slid the bandages into a plastic bag and handed them to Señora Fernandez. Gratefulness filled the woman’s face, and her response renewed his sense of purpose.
With the mother content and smiling, Adam guided her to the exit, more for his own need for fresh air than for Señora Fernandez. Adam stood a moment in the dusky light, watching her sandals kick up dust along the side of the road.
Adam rubbed his neck, feeling the strain of what would be a long night’s work. He agreed with Valenti. The late shift was difficult.
As he turned, a sting stabbed his arm and looked down in time to see a jejen. He slapped at the fly, but it had already vanished. As he headed inside, Adam’s arm stung with a fiery itch, and he rubbed the irritated spot.
When he reached the nurses’ station, Kate beckoned to him. She peered at his scratching and grinned. “Got a bite?”
He nodded.
“Vitamin B and baby oil work wonders.”
“I know,” he said, wanting to remind her he was the physician.
She motioned toward the computer screen. “The supplies are accounted for and stocked. I’ve checked everything twice.”
“Learned your lesson?”
She sent him a fiery look. “You can check it yourself if you’d like.” She swung the monitor toward him and rose from the chair.
“I’m joking, Katherine.”
Her eyebrows raised as her frown melted. “Well, I just thought…”
He harnessed a chuckle, seeing the look on her face. No one could get as addled as Katherine…at least, when he talked to her. She didn’t like him, he figured.
“Do I have another patient?” he asked, needing to get on with his work and not worry about Katherine’s fluster.
Kate nodded. “Knife wound. Room two.”
Knife wound. He had seen too much of that. Harvesting accidents, street fights and drug-or alcohol-induced arguments. Adam had already seen cuts and bruises from their Independence Day celebration the day before, the fifth of July.
Adam strode into the hallway and headed toward the examining room. Before he reached the doorway, he felt a hand on his arm that spun him around.
“Look, Montgomery, where do you get off advising my patient to do something I said wasn’t necessary?”
Adam felt his jaw drop. “What are you talking about, Dan?” He gazed into Dr. Eckerd’s angry eyes.
“I’m talking about Liana Ramirez.”
“The child? I don’t—”
Eckerd gripped Adam’s jacket and crushed the cloth. “Do you remember telling Señora Ramirez that her daughter needed plastic surgery for the birth-mark?”
Adam jerked his arm away from the doctor. He faintly remembered one day he’d seen the family in question, but they often shared patients. No one had an exclusive patient list at the clinic. “I recall having the mother ask my advice about the mark. I said that you were correct. Some nevi fade with time, but the girl’s is raised and deep purple. It’s the type that is often permanent.”
“And one that would benefit from plastic surgery.”
“Yes, but—”
“This is another example of your cocky attitude and self-importance. You could have discussed it with me first. I think you’re wrong. You’re costing the clinic money it can’t afford and endangering a child’s health with your arrogance.”
“Dan, my suggestion wasn’t arrogance. I based it on my knowledge as a plastic surgeon.”
“Next time think about someone else’s reputation before you mouth off with your advice.”
Adam watched the doctor charge away, and he stood with his mouth hanging open. What was going on? The climate? The late shift? A full moon? He shook his head and checked the clipboard hanging beside the examining room. Adam recognized the name. He’d seen Felipe Garcia more than once.
“Señor Garcia,” Adam said, entering the examining room.
The man gave him a sheepish grin. “Toma mucho.” He tipped an imaginary bottle and pantomimed taking a drink.
Adam silently agreed he’d had too much alcohol and probably too many drugs. Adam’s chest tightened, thinking of the lives destroyed by substance abuse.
In minutes, he’d cleaned and sutured the arm wound. Adam knew the man would have pain and he looked through the cabinet and found the last few tablets of Darvocet. They would do him for now. “Regrese en de dos días.” He raised two fingers in the air, then pointed downward, indicating he wanted him to come back in two days.
Felipe nodded and eased down from the table. “Dos días. Gracias.” He lifted his hand in farewell, then vanished through the door, a white bandage wrapped around his arm.
“¡Adiós!” Adam called, his thoughts tangled in the plight of the locals with their poverty and poor living conditions. His heels thudded as he crossed the tile floor and slammed the cabinet door. He needed to tell Katherine to get someone to restock all the cabinets in the examining rooms.
Adam paused, hearing his attitude. The lecture he’d heard before he came to Doctors Without Borders rose in his mind. Staff needed the ability to work and live as a team, to manage stress, to be tolerant and flexible. His shoulders drooped with the thought. Perhaps he lacked that attribute. Flexibility was for the nurses and technologists, not surgeons. But here, he had to adjust.
Instead of heading back toward the nurses’ station, Adam headed for the dispensary to carry back a few supplies for the cabinet. He also had an ulterior motive. He wanted to be certain the Demerol and morphine he’d ordered had arrived, although Katherine would be irked if she knew he had checked on her.
He followed the lengthy hall to the end and turned the corner, digging into his pocket for the dispensary key, but as he neared the doorway, he saw the door was ajar.
Who would leave the room unlocked? He picked up his pace and pushed open the door.
His heart stopped. Blood froze in his veins.
“What are you doing?” he yelled.
A shot tore through him, smarting worse than a giant jejen fly.
He staggered backward. Heat and pain seared his flesh as his legs buckled.
Blackness.
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