Love's New Beginning (a Love Comes Softly fanfiction)

To the Doctor

Clark was halfway through unharnessing the horses when a wild-eyed Missie came running into the barn. "Pa, Pa, Clare sick! Clare sick!"

With a hasty pat on Dan's shoulder, Clark dropped the harness and ran after her, not stopping to ask questions. The obvious panic in her eyes and voice was enough to tell him that something was seriously wrong.

Inside the house, he found Marty holding the baby, who struggled to breathe. Her eyes were filled with tears. "He's chokin'."

"Slap his back."

"I did."

"Put yer finger-"

Her eyes were as wild and panicked as Missie's. "I tried."

"I'll git the doc."

Marty looked at the baby, who was in such distress it made Clark want to weep. "There ain't time."

Clark thought what to do. If he couldn't get the doctor to the baby, he'd have to get the baby to the doctor. "Wrap 'im up. I'll git the horses."

He was glad the unharnessing had only been half-finished, because his fingers fumbled with what was left to do. Poor horses, they'd had a hard day, but they could do this trip in time. They had to. Clark refused to think about what might happen if they didn't.

Hurriedly he got Missie into the back of the wagon, and then Marty and the choking baby.

The trip into town had never seemed so long. The baby's breath was ragged, and the spasms of coughing as his body tried to expel what was stuck inside it sounded so violent Clark was afraid the very force of the coughing would hurt little Clare.

He tried to pray, but all he could think of was Please. Oh, please, God over and over again.

The horses were doing their best, as if they understood, but the longer it took the fainter Clare's breaths became and the more afraid Clark grew that they could never get there in time. He put all his effort into keeping his voice calm and coaxing as he spoke to the horses, urging them on.

Finally they were in town and arriving at the doctor's. Clark pulled the horses up in front of the building and was off the wagon before it had even come to a stop. He took Clare from Marty's arms and ran straight into the doctor's office with him.

The doctor came to the door of the inner room as the outer door slammed open. "What?" he asked quickly as he saw Clark.

"He's chokin'."

The doctor took the baby from him, putting him on a small table with a bright light trained on it, and bent over. As Marty and Missie came into the room, he said, "He has a tiny object stuck in his throat." Calmly, as if every second didn't see Clare's breath coming more slowly. "I'm going to have to go after it," the doctor continued. "We'll have to put him to sleep. Call my Missus, will you? She helps with this—has special training."

Clark rapped on the door to the living quarters and explained the situation as quickly as he could to the doctor's wife when she appeared. She hurried to her husband's side, the two of them working efficiently together, not a movement wasted.

Looking up and seeing the family there, the doctor said, "You folks can just take a chair in our living room. This won't take long, but we work best alone."

Leading Marty into the living room, Clark eased her into a chair. She was still panicked, her eyes wide and staring. He tried to take Missie from her arms to put her on another chair, but Marty shook her head numbly, clinging to the little girl. Missie's arms were wound tightly around her mama's neck.

The two of them stayed there, holding each other, while Clark, unable to sit still, paced back and forth, trying to pray and finding only broken sentences and pleas forming themselves in his mind.

It seemed like forever until the doctor came in. Clark crossed to Marty, putting a hand protectively on her shoulder. Please, God, repeated itself in his thoughts again.

The doctor was smiling, and Clark was finally able to breathe again. "Your boy is going to be just fine. Had this button lodged in his throat; luckily it was turned sideways or—"

"It weren't luck," Clark said hoarsely. Thank You, God.

"Call it what you may, it's out now. You can see him now." The doctor pointed through the door.

Marty got to her feet and nearly collapsed, words bubbling out of her. "Oh, God, he's all right. Thank Ya. Thank Ya." Clark caught her before she could fall, and they held each other, with Missie between them.

They stood looking at the baby, sleeping and breathing peacefully now. Still pale from his struggles, but the doctor assured them he'd be fine after a good sleep. He suggested they spend the night in the hotel across the street and come back for Clare in the morning.

Marty protested at that, but mildly, trusting the doctor when he told her a good rest would be best for all of them.

Clark's arm was still around her waist, and he led her from the doctor's office and out into the cool of the night.