Monthly Archives: February 2020

A Teacher’s Heart – Courting The Doctor

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A Teacher’s Heart is now available to order! Here’s the first chapter of Courting the Doctor:

Pennsylvania, 1870

“Deborah!”

Deborah winced as she slammed her book shut and shoved it into the wooden crate. No way could she let Ma see what she was doing. The last thing she needed right now was a lecture.

“Deborah!”

Oh, Ma’s voice was loud as a cat during mating season. She winced at the sound of her mother’s approaching hard footsteps. She scooped up an armful of hay and scattered it over the crate, hiding her precious book. The barn door slammed open, the loud sound causing Susie, her black barn cat, to scurry toward her. She scooped up the cat and smoothed her hand along the animal’s shiny dark fur.

“What are you doing in here?” Her mother scanned the barn as if searching for a long-lost secret. It was hard to keep anything from Ma, but she just couldn’t, just wouldn’t, tell Ma about her secret, at least not yet.

“I’m petting Susie.” Well, at least that wasn’t a lie. She’d been petting Susie since her ma had stormed into the barn. Ma placed her hands over her ample hips and sniffed.

“Smells like peppermint. Have you been making your peppermint oil?”

Deborah pushed her spectacles up on her nose and pointed to the small open satchel. “Yes. I need to have some on hand to sell.” She’d been making it shortly before she’d started. . .well. . .doing what she didn’t want her ma to know about. She’d sold out of the last batch. Her peppermint oil was known to help folks with runny noses and fevers. Susie squirmed, so Deborah stood and released her cat before focusing on Ma again.

Ma shook her head. “You’re always thinking about making money selling peppermint oil. Deborah, you’ve been focusing on the wrong things. That’s why you’re not married.”

“Ma, I’m sure you didn’t come out here to talk about that.” Honestly, her ma made her feel downright sick and unsettled at times. Before her fraternal twin sister, Eve, passed away, Deborah had thought about finding another place to teach—a place far away from her folks. She’d never been away from them, and yes, it would have been hard. But after Eve passed, she found that her goals had changed. She just couldn’t leave Ma and Pa alone, so she’d come up with another plan, a better plan—a plan that would make her feel happier and more content.

However, she wasn’t sure if her plan would work. Only time and a lot of prayer would help her to figure that out. “I’ve been calling you for the longest time.” Her mother sighed before fingering the white bonnet on her head. Her smooth, pudgy brown face softened as she gazed at her daughter. “It’s time for you to go to the train station to pick up Timothy and Lily.”

Deborah turned away from Ma and focused on the barn floor.
She didn’t feel like fetching her brother-in-law and her niece. Well, that wasn’t totally true. She didn’t mind fetching Lily, but Timothy, now, getting him made her a bit nervous. Was he still considered her brother-in-law since his wife—her sister, Eve— was dead? She gulped. Her gut still burned with sadness, dread, and something else she couldn’t quite decipher, since the death of her sister a year ago.

“Can’t Pa go get them?” Ma placed her arm around Deborah’s shoulders. She grabbed her satchel just as her ma gently led her out of the barn.

“Deborah, we’ve been through this. Your pa’s working the fields. I’ve got an order of hand pies to make.” Her ma made apple hand pies and sold them to the folks in their small Pennsylvania Negro community. Their farm included a small apple orchard, and harvest season was about to start. Her mouth watered for one of her ma’s pies right now. Her ma removed a brown paper sack from her pocket. The delicious scent of cinnamon and apples wafted toward her. “I made these for you to eat on your trip.”

“Thank you, Ma.” Just knowing she’d have a treat to enjoy during her trip made her feel a little bit better. Ma squeezed her shoulders.

“I’ve got to make sure all the food is prepared for our dinner with Lily and Timothy. They’ll be starving after that long train ride. So that’s why I can’t come with you.” Ma stopped walking and firmly took Deborah’s chin, forcing her to look directly into her eyes. “You don’t have to be scared of him. I know you took a shine to Timothy and he married your sister instead. But that was eight years ago. He’s probably forgotten all about that, and he’s sad, grieving over his wife while trying to raise Lily all by himself. He’s going to be the town’s doctor now, so you’ve got to get used to being around him.”

She pointed to the small cabin just a short distance from their house. Since old Doctor Smith had retired and moved, Timothy and Lily would be living nearby in Doctor Smith’s old house. “It’ll be right nice having Lily around.” Her ma gave her a sly look. “Doesn’t look like you’ll ever be getting married and giving me some grandbabies, so I’m glad Timothy has agreed to be the new town doctor. It’ll give me a chance to spend time with my granddaughter.”

Deborah blew air through her lips. She honestly didn’t know what to say about that. She’d overheard some of the womenfolk at church complaining about their husbands. Were they honestly happy? She sometimes wondered if she was better off alone with Susie for company while she studied her books. “You got your lesson plan done for the first day of school tomorrow?”

“Yes.” She didn’t need to have much of a plan for the first day. It took the kids a day or so to get back into the routine of school. Lily would be in her class, so that was a blessing. After Eve and Timothy had moved away, she’d only seen Lily a few times. She longed to get to know her niece better and hoped Lily would take a liking to her. She got into the wagon, took the reins, and flicked them, and the horses started off at a gentle trot.

Ma waved to her as she drove the team of horses down the wooded path. Shouldn’t take too long to get to the station since she was getting an early start. As she steered the horses, she removed the paper sack from her pocket and bit into one of the apple hand pies. Apples, cinnamon, sugar, and flaky crust exploded in her mouth with sweetness. Filling drizzled at the side of her lips. She quickly licked it away. Simply delicious. Her ma had been making hand pies for the last few years. Deborah had helped her to develop a great recipe using a secret ingredient. After Ma fried the pies in hot lard and served them, Deborah had a hard time waiting for the little pies to cool before enjoying them. Now that the apples were ready for harvest, her ma would be making more pies, as well as applesauce and apple butter.

She sighed as she popped the last bite of pie into her mouth. Ma. She shook her head as she glanced at the oak trees in the distance. Sometimes when Ma spoke to her, she felt like a little kid instead of a twenty-five-year-old woman. Plain spinster. She inwardly winced as she spotted a patch of chicory growing at the side of the road. Maybe she’d stop and pick some on her way back. She was used to the townsfolk in their small Negro community secretly commenting about her plain looks and her shy nature.

Well, she wasn’t really shy. She loved being around children and she enjoyed being the town’s schoolteacher. It was adults she didn’t take a shine to. Lord, please forgive me for my unkind thoughts. The long ride to the station went by quickly since she focused on the plants that she spotted along the side of the road. She named them as fast as she could. Just looking at the plants and naming them soothed her. Plants had a way of making her feel better. She figured if she focused on them during her entire journey, she wouldn’t be so nervous about seeing Timothy for the first time since her sister’s death.

She breathed deeply as she reined in the horses at the train station and pulled the brake lever. She removed the pocket watch from her reticule. The train should be coming in soon. She took her satchel and strolled over to the station, scanning the dusty platform as she wiped sweat from her face. There sure were a lot of folks waiting for the train.

She eyed several benches around the station. All of the seats were taken, except for one seat on a bench. An elderly white lady and a little boy sat on the long, pew-like seat. The little boy ate a bar of chocolate and wore a fancy black suit. Deborah’s leather shoes echoed on the floorboards as she strolled toward the bench. Taking her chances, she plopped down beside the twosome.

“Good afternoon, ma’am.” The woman narrowed her eyes. The boy simply grinned at her while he enjoyed his candy. She swallowed. She needed to do what was necessary to come up with the money to fulfill her dream.

“Ma’am, I see you have a little one with you. I’m a schoolteacher, and I know how little ones can get runny noses.” Quick as could be, she opened her satchel and removed a bottle of her peppermint oil. “This is peppermint oil. Folks in the town where I live use this regularly for colds and stomach ailments.”

“We don’t need anything like that from your kind.” The lady pointed a bony finger at Deborah while she stood and forced the little boy to get down from the bench. The youngster waved at her, giving her a huge smile. The chocolate candy had smeared on his chubby white hand. “Don’t wave at her. Never wave at a Negro.”

The elderly woman leaned in close to the child, her loud voice echoing in the train station. She squeezed the boy’s wrist and he cried, dropping his candy onto the ground. Deborah shook her head. Foolish woman. It was a terrible shame that just because of her brown skin, the woman didn’t
want to talk to her about peppermint oil.

She scanned the platform. A young Negro man reading a newspaper stood nearby, and a few groups of people congregated with one another. Should she approach somebody else? Maybe the Negro man might be interested?

The echo of the whistle from the approaching train pierced the air. She slammed down the lid of her satchel and turned the clasp. She pushed her spectacles up on her nose. The entrance exam for the female college could prove daunting, and if she made it into the college, she’d need enough money to pay her tuition. She still couldn’t believe she was studying to take the entrance exam. She’d thought and prayed about it for over a year before making her final decision.

If Timothy had been in town when she’d made her decision, she may have shared her news with him. Being around other folks made her bored; her mind was so cluttered with ideas, questions, and thoughts. She supposed that’s why she enjoyed teaching children. She always encouraged questions from her pupils. She’d spent time with Timothy when she was seventeen, and she hadn’t gotten bored. Actually, the opposite had happened. Timothy made her think. Timothy questioned a lot of things, just as she did, and their discussions and debates proved long and fulfilling. The train whistle echoed in the air once more. She again eyed the folks standing on the platform. The Negro man had closed his paper, and he smiled at the approaching train. He was obviously anxious for the train to pull into the station. She sighed and stood up and leaned against the wall. As white puffs of smoke from the train exploded into the warm humid air, she pressed her hands together, trying to calm her frazzled nerves.


She squeezed her eyes shut as the acrid smell of smoke filled the air. She sniffed. Lord, help me. She kept her eyes shut, silently talking to God, as she listened to the cadence of pounding footsteps, probably travelers rushing by and folks exiting the train. She sniffed again. Lord, please help me to calm down. Sweat trickled down her brow, irritating her skin. She whisked the moisture away with her hand. It sure was hot out today.

“Deborah.” She knew that deep voice, rich and slow as the molasses she’d used on her flapjacks that morning. She forced herself to open her eyes.

“Timothy.” She was so nervous, his name barely squeaked across her lips. It was a wonder she could speak at all. But something was wrong. His chocolate-brown eyes were laced with worry.

“Daddy. . .” Lily stood beside Timothy. The pretty seven-year-old child looked just like Eve. With Lily’s smooth brown skin and pretty face, Deborah predicted Timothy would have no problem finding a husband for his daughter when she grew up. Lily tugged on her father’s pants. Her mouth quivered and tears slid down her cheeks.

Deborah’s stomach curled with dread as she gently rubbed Lily’s back. “Lily, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t feel—” The child vomited right onto Deborah’s newly polished leather shoes. The sour stench sickened her stomach. Looked like it had been an awful trip for her newly arrived relatives.

A Teacher’s Heart – Courting the Doctor

Can You Hear God’s Voice?

Judges 7:4 But the Lord said to Gideon, “There are still too many men. Take them down to the water, and I will thin them out for you there. If I say, ‘This one shall go with you,’ he shall go; but if I say, ‘This one shall not go with you,’ he shall not go.”

Can you hear God’s voice?

When I read through the book of Judges, I notice Gideon, fighting battles with his army, obeying God’s word. As stated in Judges 7:4, Gideon seems to hear God’s voice as clearly as you might hear a friend talk to you on the phone. Or, he may hear God’s voice as clearly as you talking to someone at your own kitchen table, in person.

I’ve always wondered why those in the Old Testament, the saints of God, seem to hear Him so clearly. They seemed to have a deeper connection to the Lord, deeper than what we have today. Yes, we pray to Jesus, ask for His advice, but, it’d be nice to hear a clear voice, straight from Heaven, just as Gideon heard when he went into battle with his army.

God gave Gideon directions, and in spite of God’s strong, clear voice, Gideon was still doubtful. If God told him that he were going to overtake his enemies and win the battle, Gideon wanted more proof, sometimes he wanted proof twice or three times. He doubted God, in spite of His clear, strong voice.

Does God speak so clearly to us now? Since Jesus has come and died for our sins, saving us, does God feel that he no longer needs to speak directly to us, in a clear, strong physical voice? Does Jesus want us to pray and have faith – and that’s enough?

Perhaps, since those in the Old Testament were known to doubt God, in spite of His strong voice, perhaps God doesn’t want to waste His time speaking clearly, in a physical voice to us, since we continue to doubt Him?

How clearly do you hear God’s voice? Have you ever felt that God were speaking to you, directly from Heaven?