Cheryl Wolverton - What The Doctor Ordered

Morgan saw the look on Emma’s face, the gleam in her eye and thought, Yep, the pastor was certainly in trouble.

“In God’s time, Emma,” Ben said gently. “So, what messages do you have for me?”

“Oh. Yes. Yes.” Looking at the slips in her hand, she said, “Well, Miss Patterson called and I think she wanted, or was it the other one that wanted…” The woman trailed off, confused, quickly looking through the notes she held in her aged hands.

“Take your time, Emma,” Ben soothed and seated himself, motioning for Morgan to take a chair also.

“No, no. It was Rachel’s mother who called in reference to the roofing project you wanted to know about. And Miss Patterson, she wanted to talk to you about sponsoring.” The woman frowned as she tried to remember. “Oh, yes. She wanted to talk with you about sponsoring a booth at the celebration they’ll be having, the spring festival. You know, I was crowned Strawberry Queen at that festival years ago.” She gleamed with pride as she nodded to Morgan.

“I’d heard that, ma’am,” Morgan replied, smiling. Actually, he’d heard it several times from Emma. It was something she was very proud of, and every time the spring festival came up, she mentioned it. “Quite an event,” he added.

She giggled.

Taking the messages from Emma, Ben paused to pat her hand. “Thank you, dear. Can you close the door on the way out?”

“I surely will, Reverend Ben.” She turned and bustled out the door, her mission thwarted temporarily but, knowing Emma, not deserted.

When the door finally clicked closed, Morgan chuckled. “Looks like you may be fighting off a matchmaking scheme there, Ben.”

Ben groaned and shook his head. “Emma’s a good woman. She certainly cares about everyone. But I draw the line at allowing her to pick my wife.” Smiling, he shook his head again.

Morgan chuckled again.

Ben’s blue eyes gleamed with amusement as he said, “You don’t have much room to laugh, Morgan. She’s tried to match you up with every single woman within a three-county area.”

“Yeah, but she’s turned that attention on you now. Looks like she’s given me up as a lost cause—at least temporarily.” Morgan’s smile faded. “So, how are the problems going?”

Ben shook his head and laid the messages aside. “Still getting a lot of opposition from many in the church. I’m too young to handle this job, according to some. Others think the former Reverend shouldn’t have retired and let someone with my lack of experience slip into the job. In time, though, I’m sure, with God’s help, things will change.”

“Good.” Morgan shifted in his chair and crossed his legs. In khaki pants and a deep blue polo shirt, he felt as if he were missing something. Normally, he wore a lab coat and stethoscope, too. He’d been at lunch when he’d gotten paged to come over because the day care was certain Jeremy had pinkeye. “By the way, that’s not pinkeye,” he said to Ben. “It seems Chrissy didn’t like what Jeremy said and punched him in the eye while the teacher’s back was turned. But Jeremy heard the teacher say pinkeye and was certain his eye was going to turn pink and fall out.”

“Oh, really?” Ben grinned, the lines around his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Well, I’m sure he’ll think a miracle occurred when his eye clears.”

“And his mom will be glad to know the sniffles aren’t going to turn into anything more. So, what’d you want to talk to me about?”

Ben grinned. “I’d wanted to talk business, but first, I want to find out who you’ve been dating while my back was turned.”

Morgan glanced at Ben’s desk, cluttered with books and notes, the books obviously from the many bookcases around the office. The church was an old building, with original wood paneling and floors. Beautiful, in a way. Morgan really liked it, and liked his pastor, too. He’d become a friend over the last few months through the church-run day care. He wondered how he was going to explain to Ben what he’d meant earlier. Oh, well, he thought. I made the statement, might as well explain it. “Her name is Rachel and she has a daughter…”

“Lindsay,” Ben finished. “Yes. I’ve seen her picking Lindsay up, and of course, know her mother, Betty. I didn’t know you knew her, though. Or is it that Betty introduced you two?”

Morgan grinned. “No, Betty has no idea I’ve met her daughter yet. And I don’t know Rachel yet, either.”

“I see,” Ben replied, though it was perfectly obvious he didn’t see at all.

“I met her a few minutes ago,” Morgan added, not offering more than a simple blink of his eyes in reaction to the total confusion written on Ben’s face.

“Ah.” Ben chuckled, his face clearing suddenly. Morgan knew Ben thought he was kidding. Let him think that—until he finally asked Ben to perform the ceremony. He couldn’t explain it himself, but when he’d seen Rachel his entire world had tilted on its axis. A strong voice inside had spoken to him, saying, She’s the one. Morgan had no problem agreeing. She was beautiful, but there was something more about her, something he couldn’t explain. He simply knew she was the woman who belonged at his side, and he was going to marry her.

He was rather stunned himself, in some ways. He wasn’t one to make rash decisions. Actually, he was usually very controlled and careful. Nevertheless, he knew, he knew she was the one.

And Lindsay.

The child only confirmed what he knew. She was for him. Lindsay was for him. A second chance…

“Well, since you brought Rachel up…” Ben broke into the silence, his laughter gone as he drew Morgan to the subject at hand. “Betty called while you were checking on Jeremy. She was looking for you.”

“Really?” Betty Anderson, the director of the day-care center, was also Rachel’s mom. “What does she want to see me about?”

“I don’t know. I told her I’d snag you before you left. Let me tell her you’re here.” He picked up the phone and rang the day-care office. When he hung up, he smiled at Morgan. “She’s on her way now.”

“No measles going around, at least, not that I know of. Maybe she wants me to set up the annual lice check, or…” Morgan trailed off, curious.

“I’m sure it’s something like that. You know Betty. She’s an exceptional woman, good head on her shoulders. She certainly keeps that day care in line.”

Morgan nodded. “That she does. And knowing her, she’ll waste no time getting here and coming to the point.” Morgan liked that about Betty.

As if on cue, they heard Emma in the other room, offering a strawberry-filled cookie to someone and talking about seeing her daughter. “Sounds like Betty is here,” Morgan said.

Ben stood and moved around his desk. “I’ll give you some privacy.” He laid a gentle hand on Morgan’s shoulder as he passed. Morgan heard the door click and the warm tones of Ben’s voice float to him from the secretary’s office. “Hello, Betty. Morgan is in my office. Go on in. In the meantime, I think I’m going to steal one of Emma’s cookies.”

“Thank you, Reverend.” Betty’s contralto voice could be heard. A breeze swept in as the door swung wider, and then Betty walked in the office.

Betty pushed the door closed and stood there, her reddish brown hair hanging straight to her chin. In her fifties, she still had a nice figure. Her no-nonsense clothes showed she’d evidently been doing something physical downstairs at the center. Her flannel shirtsleeves were rolled to her elbows, and her purple jogging pants had dust and debris on them.

The look in her eye indicated that something was definitely on her mind. As a doctor, Morgan had learned to recognize the signs and do much what a pastor did, which was simply to listen. “Hello, Betty, how can I help you?”