Sacred Trust

“He doesn’t kick His own children out. You don’t share your wife’s faith?”

Frankie continued as if he hadn’t heard Lukas. “My wife was the most beautiful woman in the world.” He said it softly, as if he were recalling her face. “She was beautiful inside, as well as outside, and she just grew more beautiful over the years.” His attention returned to Lukas. “I want to thank you for giving me another chance.”

“I’m glad I was here to help.” Lukas paused, then cleared his throat. “There is a way to make sure that you follow Doris when you do leave this earth.”

Frankie shook his head slowly. “I could never be the kind of person Doris was.”

“You don’t have to be. God created you as you are, and He wants you as you are.”

Frankie continued to shake his head.

“Tell me,” Lukas said, “would Doris be silly enough to worship a useless God?”

Frankie glanced sharply at Lukas. “My wife was a very wise lady. She wasn’t silly.”

“Then wouldn’t the God she worshiped at least be able to love you and accept you as generously as she did?”

Frankie watched Lukas for a moment. “You’re a Christian.”

“Yes, I am.”

“You talk just like Doris used to.” His eyes filled with tears again. “Sure do miss her.”

“Then why don’t you start making your travel plans—and not the way you did Wednesday. Why don’t you make sure you can be with her again? Get to know her Savior personally. Then when the time comes, in His time, not yours, He will see to it that you find her. Meanwhile, Frankie, He will be with you here, and He’ll give you peace you never believed you could have…or deserve.”

“What makes you think He’d do that for me?”

“He did it for me, and He keeps forgiving me every time I mess up. I keep asking Him to use me, and He sent you my way at just the right time. He loves you and wants you to join Him.”

More tears filled Frankie’s eyes, and this time he let them fall. “Give me some time to think about it.”

“Okay, Frankie. Meanwhile, I’ll be praying for you.” Lukas laid a hand on the man’s arm and squeezed, then said a silent prayer for him as he walked back to the emergency room.

Beverly was on duty that morning, and she met him as he entered. Stereotypical as it seemed, Beverly had a quick, impulsive temperament to match her flaming red hair. At the moment, the color of her face also matched her hair.

“Dr. Bower, there’s a very obnoxious patient in three who has threatened to sue if I don’t personally escort you to see him now.” She lowered her voice. “His father is Bailey Little.”

At Lukas’s blank expression, she explained, “You know, Bailey Little, the attorney. He’s the president of our hospital’s board of directors.”

“So the son is in the E.R. throwing his father’s weight around?”

“Yes. I know you want to get to that funeral.”

“But you don’t think this one can wait.” All he needed was a difficult patient whom Dr. Camp might refuse to take over when he arrived. It had been hard enough to convince someone to let him off a couple of hours, especially since he wasn’t sure himself why he felt the need to attend the funeral of a stranger.

He glanced at his watch. It was only eight o’clock. If all the ancillary services would cooperate, he could take care of this patient and still make the service.

“Okay, Beverly, what’s his complaint?”

Beverly lowered her voice. “He’s out of his stuff, if you ask me.”

Lukas raised a brow at her. “Drug seeker?”

She nodded, folding her arms across her chest, her thick, red brows drawn together in a disapproving glower.

“Okay, I’ll come willingly. What does he say is the problem?”

“Headache. Again.”

“Again? He’s been in for this before?”

“Yes. At least twice when I was on duty, and I think he’s been here a lot more than that, according to the secretary.”

“Which doctor treated him?”

“Dr. George.”

“And he got the drugs?”

“Dr. George believed his story. Dwayne is a good actor. Besides, Dr. George is good friends with Dwayne’s father. Dwayne even calls him ‘Uncle Jarvis.’”

“Pull Mr. Little’s old chart, will you?”

“Sure thing.” She turned to go, then hesitated and turned back. “I wouldn’t cross this guy, Dr. Bower, not unless you can afford to lose your job. I know I can’t.”

“Thanks for the warning, Beverly.”

She watched him for a moment. “I mean it. I heard about you turning in Dr. George for the needlestick. Bailey Little can get us both in trouble, and I’ve got kids to support.”

Lukas frowned. “You’re not going to get into trouble for doing your job.”

He found the clipboard for room three at the central desk, then added a copy of a special form he had brought with him from KC.

The patient who perched on the doctor’s exam stool in the darkened room didn’t look like a typical drug abuser. Lukas wondered if Beverly had just been irritated by the man’s personality. The young man, in his early to midtwenties, sat cradling his forehead in his hands. He wore a dark brown suit. His hair was short and neat. He looked clean. He glanced up when Lukas entered, then put his head back down and groaned.

“Hello, Mr. Little, I’m Dr. Bower.” Lukas placed the clipboard down on the counter and remained standing. “I hear you have a headache this morning.”

“Yeah, Dr. Bower.” The man continued to rub his forehead. “It’s the worst I’ve ever had.”

“Then you’ve had headaches like this before? Any nausea associated with them? Fever?”

“I’ve had some before, but not as bad as this. I’m puking my guts out.”

Lukas knew from checking the chart that the man’s temperature was normal. “Have you ever seen a doctor for headaches before, Mr. Little? Ever had a CT head scan?”

“Not yet.” The man leaned forward and pulled a card out of his back pocket. “Here. I’m supposed to go see a Dr. Pippin next week in Springfield. He’s a neurologist.”

Lukas took the card and glanced at it. It was a blank appointment card, one anybody could pick up from a front desk of a busy office. Lukas was not impressed.