Healing of the Heart: A Shumard Oak Bend Novel (Discerning God’s Best Book 4)

Chapter 32

August 1873Thomas

Thomas woke to pounding at the door. Momentarily disoriented in his new home, he yelled down, “Coming,” as he hopped into his trousers.

Thomas glanced at the clock. Almost midnight. He opened the door to a wild-haired man. “Yes, what is it?”

“Fight at the saloon. No gunshots, but there’s lots of blood and a crazy man. Sheriff asked me to come get you.”

“Let me grab my bag.” Thank the Lord Teddy and the children had gone to the boarding house for the night. He slipped on his boots and grabbed his bag at the door. “Ready.”

The man staggered but had a quick stride and seemed to know exactly where he was going even with the moon hidden behind dense clouds. Thomas had dealt with many emergencies in Philadelphia, but he knew rules were different here. Sounds of shouting and splintering wood filled the still night.

The man turned to Thomas. “Are you armed?”

“I’m here to heal, sir, not the other way around.”

“Still might want to carry a gun. You can run up onto a bear just as easy as a drunken scoundrel.”

Thomas wasn’t about to argue. A loud crash followed by glass shattering had him wondering if he’d lost his senses.

The man stopped in front of the saloon. “Hey, Doc?”

“Yes?”

“Glad to have you in town, but I hope not to need your services.”

Thomas hoped so, too, as the man tripped over his own feet when he turned toward Main Street. Welcome back to the Wild West, Dr. Shankel, Thomas said to himself as he climbed the steps and entered the saloon.

Men sat drinking in the back of the smoke-filled room as if nothing unusual was happening. The bartender cleaned glasses with a rag. It appeared this incident was a one-man fight.

Sheriff Adkins stood with his arms crossed, facing Thomas, but did not acknowledge his arrival. “Every chair you break adds to your bill. You sure you want to break that one, too?” he said to the man.

Thomas felt bile rise in his throat as he recognized the brown skin and lithe arms of his friend. Blood ran down the back of Gabe’s filthy shirt as he held a chair over his greasy, matted hair. Thomas’s heart broke as he assessed the situation. The head wound caused little worry. The real problem was him and his reaction to seeing Gabe like this.

Thomas thought through his options. Henry was the calm voice of reason, but that didn’t seem to be working. Gabe was steady on his feet, not acting as if inebriated. He could be crazy, like the stranger said. Thomas had seen psychological issues many times in Philadelphia. People lost their minds, usually after a traumatic incident, but some struggled with their demons from birth. Neither seemed plausible in Gabe’s case.

Thomas set his bag down quietly and pulled out a clean cloth and a bottle of chloroform. He took a quick look at the room and noted those smoking were in the back, away from the activity. The sweet smell saturated the cloth, and Thomas prepared himself to leap into action. He’d wrestled with Gabe enough over the years to know the element of surprise would be his friend.

Thomas said a quick prayer, then lunged while Gabe’s steady and still-raised arms held the chair above his head. He covered his friend’s nose and mouth with the cloth, then leaned and swept Gabe’s legs out from under him. Gabe, the chair, and Thomas crashed to the floor, but Thomas never removed his hand. It was like capturing a mad pig.

Gabe writhed and kicked under Thomas’s body weight, then stopped. Thomas pulled his hand and the cloth free, allowing the sheriff to put handcuffs on the now-silent figure before turning the motionless form over.

Under a mixture of blood, snot, and spit was the tortured face of his best friend, Gabe.

The sheriff looked pained when their eyes met. “Quick thinking, Doc. I’m sorry you had to see him like this.” Henry called two of the men to help carry the limp body to the jail. “Gentlemen, I owe you a beer for your service,” He turned to the owner. “Close her up, Bart. It’s Sunday.”

Thomas’s hands shook, and he looked at the bruising beginning to show on his right hand. He repacked his bag and followed the group of men, leaving the establishment’s patrons in different states of drunkenness. Thomas didn’t miss this part of small-town living. He knew he’d see a few of those faces at service in the morning.

Thomas made his way to the jail to ensure his patient and friend didn’t suffer any ill effects from the chloroform.

Henry removed the cuffs, and the men settled Gabe on the wooden shelf he’d call a bed for a few days. “Coffee?” Henry offered.

The smell of burned coffee met his nose. “I’ll pass. Thanks.”

Henry leaned against the cell opening as Thomas listened to Gabe’s heartbeat. “How long will he sleep?”

Thomas checked Gabe’s pulse. “Minutes. Maybe twenty. What happened tonight?”

“Same as the other times. Gabe went missing again, then showed up here looking for a fight. These men know him well enough to not engage. I heard the first chair break and tried to talk him down. Four chairs and a glass later, and here we are.”

Thomas adjusted his position and checked Gabe’s head. The wound still oozed.

Henry stepped inside. “Broke the first chair over his knee. A piece flew up. Thankfully, it hit his head and not an eye.”

“Help me hold him, will you? I’d like to get this stitched before he wakes, but I’m not sure how much longer that will be.”

Thomas washed his hands and returned to find Gabe back in handcuffs, though this time iron handles on either side of the wooden bed secured his arms and ankles. “Done this before?”

Henry’s dry laugh ended in a heavy, released breath. “More times than I care to remember.”

Thomas wasn’t sure if it was for just Gabe or others as well and wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He cut away some dark matted hair from around the wound, then cleaned the area before stitching. Gabe moaned, and Thomas clipped the tied end. He placed his used items in the cleaning cloth to boil when he got home.

Gabe’s eyes popped open, and his body stiffened, pulling against the restraints. He turned his steely gaze to Thomas and spat.

Thomas wiped his cheek and forced a smile. “Your aim’s off, but that’s likely from the anesthesia.” Thomas watched confusion, then recognition, fill Gabe’s eyes.

Gabe growled, the sound guttural and hoarse like he’d either damaged his vocal cords or needed water.

“It’s me, friend. Henry, can you pour some water for Gabe?”

“My name is Shadowed Spirit,” the gravelly voice retorted, each word coated with a gritty edge.

Thomas’s heart seized. What had happened to his friend, the Indian boy he’d loved since childhood? This new name Gabe had given himself evoked a sense of darkness in contrast to the brightness and optimism associated with his given Indian name, Little Sun.

“Gabe, it’s me, Thomas.”

“I know who you are. But I am Shadowed Spirit.”

The name reflected the transformation of the man’s current disposition. He’d changed from a boy full of light to a man overshadowed by despair or melancholy.

Thomas took the offered water and then looked at the shackles.

Gabe uttered another deep growl that bordered on a snarl. “I won’t run. I could use a few nights’ sleep and meals, even if they’re barely edible.”

Thomas didn’t recognize the person in front of him. He stepped back to allow Henry to unlock the restraints, then handed the cup to Gabe, who gulped greedily, water spilling down his face and into his sweat-stained shirt.

Thomas’s gaze focused on a leather strap around Gabe’s neck that ended in a lump under his shirt. Had Gabe forsaken God and returned to the ways of his Arapaho people? Thomas offered a silent prayer.

“Gabe,” Thomas started, then changed tactics when the look he received from the stranger in front of him made him quiver in his boots. “As your physician, I have a few questions.”

Gabe sneered. “You always were the inquisitive one.”

“Have you eaten any psilocybin-containing mushrooms or smoked cannabis recently?”

Gabe spat on the floor. “I may not have been smart enough for medical school, but I’m not an idiot.”

Was that what he thought? “Smart enough? Not getting into medical school had nothing to do with your intelligence.”

“Oh, that’s right. It had everything to do with my blood. I guess mine doesn’t run the same color as yours.”

Thomas ignored the comment. “I understand you are experiencing lethargy, joint pain, and some confusion. Any swelling, redness, rash, or fever?”

Gabe leaned against the wall as if tired and exhaled as if giving up an unseen fight. He closed his eyes, then opened to show clear ones that remained focused on Thomas. “It’s not gout.”

“All right. Urine output?”

“Less, I guess.”

Thomas noticed the cracked lips. Prolonged pain with the accompanied behavioral changes and extreme aggressiveness from this once fun, docile friend had him stumped. “Open your mouth.”

Gabe did as asked, and Thomas stilled at the blue-black lines in the gums. “Lead poisoning,” he said on an exhale. There was no cure, and in extreme cases, those affected often died.

“Makes sense. But if that’s true, there are plenty of others working the mines who are affected. I just don’t understand the extreme rage I feel. No one else seems to have that.”

“Bowel habits?” Thomas inquired.

“Stopped up pretty good.” The old Gabe shone through for an instant, then a shadow crossed his hardened face.

“Thanks to my son, I have an idea, but it won’t be pleasant.”

Gabe sat up straight. “You have a son?”

“And a wife. We have much to catch up on, friend.” Thomas took a chance and placed his hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “In fact, we’re having our wedding tomorrow after service. It would be an honor to have you stand with me.”

“You have a wife and a son, but you aren’t married?”

It felt good to laugh. “It’s a long story I’ll share with you over coffee. For now, let’s get you feeling better. Henry?”

“I heard. I’ll make an exception since he didn’t harm anyone but himself, but, Gabe, I want it in writing that you’ll pay your debt to Bart.”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I didn’t even agree yet.”

Thomas’s heart sank. He couldn’t imagine his special day without Gabe.

“But I’ll do it if I don’t have to attend service first.”

Thomas realized the opportunity and seized it. “Sorry, that’s part of the deal. Comes with the feast that follows. I hear a certain pretty schoolteacher made the cake.” He had Gabe’s attention now.

“I have nothing to wear.”

Thomas watched Gabe’s eyes flicker as if a war was battling inside his head.

“I’ve got you covered. What you need is a bath and a haircut. Just be careful with those stitches. And sorry about the bald spot, I had to cut away some of that mop on your head.”

Gabe gifted Thomas a smile. “At least you didn’t scalp me.” Gabe bumped his knee against Thomas’s.

Thomas returned the gesture. “It crossed my mind.”

All the well wishes from congregants delayed the start of worship. The pianist played the call to worship again, this time with more gusto. Surrounded by family and friends, Thomas offered praise to his Lord, and asked his heavenly Father to tune his heart to sing all praise.

The words of “Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing” flowed through his mind. Thomas thanked God for helping him return safely home to the fold of God and to Shumard Oak Bend.

Jesus sought me when a stranger,wandering from the fold of God;He, to rescue me from danger,interposed his precious blood. (Robert Robinson)

Thomas stole a glance across the aisle to where Gabe sat with his parents. Thomas noted the man’s bouncing knee and prayed the conviction of the Holy Spirit caused the action and not another bout of aggressive behavior ready to be loosed on the congregants.

O to grace how great a debtorDaily I’m constrained to be!Let that grace now, like a fetter,Bind my wandering heart to thee.

Thomas prayed those words spoke to Gabe as much as they did to him.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,Prone to leave the God I love;Here’s my heart; O take and seal it;Seal it for thy courts above.

Thomas glanced across the aisle to see Gabe’s knee still. His friend steepled his fingers, leaning forward and remaining seated while the congregation stood for prayer.

Heal him, Father. Not just physically. Help Gabe leave his wandering ways and return to You—and to us. To all of us.

Thomas added his amen to the surrounding chorus.

Pastor Korhonen smiled down at his people. “Today we continue in 1 Kings. To follow up on last week’s lesson, let me recap for those of you who are new to us today.”

Hans smiled at several individuals. “The stage is set in a time of great spiritual conflict in Israel, under the reign of King Ahab and Queen Jezebel. Elijah, a prophet of God, emerges as a central figure in this narrative.”

“Amen,” a voice from the crowd exclaimed.

“Ahab and Jezebel have led Israel astray, promoting the worship of the pagan god Baal and suppressing the worship of Yahweh. This sets the backdrop for a dramatic confrontation between Elijah and the prophets of Baal to demonstrate the power of the one true God.”

Thomas felt David sit up straighter. Hans had used the right words to capture his boy’s attention.

“Our passage today tells the story where Elijah challenges the prophets of Baal in a dramatic showdown, proving God’s power.”

David leaned in.

“Yet Elijah’s victory doesn’t solve the ongoing struggle against evil. Threatened by Jezebel, Elijah falls into despair, seeking refuge in a cave.”

“Lord, help us,” someone offered from the back.

“But in a powerful display, God appears, reminding Elijah of His presence.”

“Glory,” an unfamiliar voice added.

“Despite Elijah’s doubts, God reassures him and urges him to continue his mission.”

Thomas felt the prick of the Holy Spirit in his heart. No matter his doubts, he knew God was encouraging him to move forward on the path He’d set before him.

“The story teaches the enduring battle against evil and the need to trust in God’s power. Like Elijah, we’re called to confront injustice, seek community, and remain steadfast in faith, even when faced with despair.”

Thomas thought of Gabe. His friend had despair written all over him.

“We often view situations with limited, self-pitying lenses, but God’s perspective encompasses a broader view. While we may feel isolated, God is at work through others, accomplishing good things beyond our awareness.”

“Thank you, Jesus,” the now-familiar voice rang out.

“Even in moments of despair, God is preparing blessings beyond our sight. The lesson is to trust in God’s mysterious ways, even when we can’t perceive them. God reassures Elijah and us, saying, ‘I’m in control.’”

Hans’s volume increased. “Instead of telling God how big your problems are, tell your problems how big God is. Put yourself in the presence of God and feel his mighty power. You, my friend, are a child of the King.”

A chorus of amens filled the room.

Thomas felt drawn to Gabe, and he watched in amazement as Gabe yanked the leather strap from his neck and threw it to the floor.