He shook his head. Everyone he’d ever cared about he’d lost.
Another strong burst of wind pushed against their tiny shelter. Growing up in Kansas, he’d been terrified of tornadoes. The devastation was always so great. No matter how many times they’d taken cover in their root cellar, he’d never gotten used to the sound of the wind. Or seeing the terror on his mother’s and sisters’ faces.
Life on the farm had been beautiful. Until he lost his dad to a farm accident. A storm had come upon them in the blink of an eye, and the cattle had stampeded right over him. At thirteen years old, Peter had found his dad, crumpled and broken in the field but still alive. He didn’t know any way to help him. Grandmother had been a midwife and healer, but she couldn’t save his dad either.
So began his dream of being a doctor.
Mom fell ill right after he finished medical school. When he couldn’t save her either he’d wondered what good it was to be medically trained, and even have a certificate, if it didn’t help him save the people he loved.
It wasn’t until his grandmother fell ill that he understood and could put his head knowledge together with his heart. As she’d struggled to breathe and function the last few weeks, she helped him understand that he was simply a caretaker. God was the one who decided what was to be, but the outcome shouldn’t stop him from using his gifts and trying to help. It was his job to do his best and leave the results up to God.
For several years, he’d been able to keep that outlook. Until Charlotte––
No. He didn’t want to think about her ... couldn’t allow himself to go there. It had taken six years to get this far.
He clenched his jaw against the memories.
He’d started fresh. He was helping people. He’d do his best and leave the results up to God. He would.
He recited the phrase in his mind several times. Then he closed his eyes and tried to block out everything around him.
There were children who needed his help.
Movement under her arm made Whitney flinch awake. Where was she?
She sat up and blinked away the remnants of sleep. Pepper wriggled her muzzle closer. Whitney patted the top of the lead dog’s head. Oh, that was right. They’d had to seek shelter before the blizzard hit them full on.
She could always rely on her pups.
She took a deep breath, and her gaze landed on Peter. He was asleep, the center of his brow creased into a deepV.
Was that her fault? Was he worried about her? Or simply their predicament?
Even with the time she’d spent with him over the past few months, there was little she knew about him. Or his past.
Why had he come to Nome in the first place?
What manner of man was he? Truly? He’d been good to her. Good to her family. They trusted him. But he’d started to push her. A little too much.
She was comfortable with him. Maybe because he didn’t let anyone tell him what to do. Or how to run his practice. As much as she adored Judas, it had made her giggle when she found out that the new doctor had told him no. Something, she was quite certain, Judas didn’t hear often.
Granddad had all-out approved of Peter. Said they needed more doctors who took the natural approach.
Tipping her head, she studied him. His dark hair had a bit of a wave to it. And while he always dressed nicely, he wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. Clothes weren’t of utmost importance to him. Neither was appearance. But he conveyed a strong moral code. Trustworthiness. At least to her.
No. That wasn’t true. She’d seen how well he treated the natives. Gave them the same attention and courtesy that he gave to white people. Nowthatwas something she wished she could see in everyone.
Mama used to tell them that when someone was trustworthy, it was part of their nature. They didn’t go out of their way to prove it because it was simply who they were. And they showed it in how they lived their everyday lives. She also said that you could tell a lot about a person by how they treated older people, the native people, or people of different classes. Not that they had the crazy society rules there in Nome, but Whitney had grown up learning exactly what Mama meant.
How many people—men and women alike—had she witnessed say horrible things to the Inupiat people? Or eventreat others they deemed beneath them with contempt or derision? It had infuriated her on more than one occasion.
But then, she’d also seen people who weren’t out to impress anyone. They never avoided difficult things for fear of failure or looking foolish. They helped the downtrodden.
Peter hadn’t been afraid to ask her those intense questions. He didn’t seem bothered by what other people thought about him. He did his best and helped as many people as he could.
He stood behind his convictions.
Mama had been that way. Even though she’d been full of grace and compassion, she’d stood firm. She never wavered on her expectations of her girls. Never allowed them to veer off the narrow path without major consequences. And when they made a mess out of things, she reminded them she loved them and helped them through the horrible effort it took to clean up things, but she never took the punishment away.
