When the Clouds Roll By by Myra Johnson

Author:Myra Johnson [Johnson, Myra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-07-24T16:00:00+00:00

“You’re a good man, Padre. Glad to see you back on duty.” The old soldier—the same one from the isolation ward who one month ago had been convinced he was at death’s door—gripped Samuel’s hand and gave it a firm shake.

“Thanks, Sergeant King. It’s good to be back.” Samuel extracted his nearly bloodless hand and unobtrusively flexed his fingers a few times while moving a chair closer to the sergeant’s bedside. “It’s especially good to see you alive and kicking. Clearly the Lord has more use for you here than in heaven.”

“Your prayers made the difference, no doubt about it. Up to now I’ve been pretty useless just about anywhere the Lord chose to put me. But your promise of the Lord’s forgiveness gave me something to hold onto, a reason to live so’s maybe I could yet become a better man.”

Samuel could only nod as his thoughts returned to that day. The same overpowering sense of shame churned his belly—guilt over sins he’d long since repented of but could never forget. Would—could—God truly forgive him?

Would he ever be able to forgive himself?

“Just sorry you had to catch the danged influenza, Padre. Tears me up to think you may have got it from me.” The sergeant, a long-term rheumatism patient, drew up one leg and massaged his knee. “Took a lot of guts for you to visit all us sick folks every day like you did.”

Bravery had nothing to do with it, and Samuel wished they could change the subject. “The worst is over, so they tell me. How can I pray for you today?”

While Sergeant King shared recent news about a troublesome teenage grandson over in Tulsa, Samuel looked across the ward to see the young Irish nurse Mary McClarney approaching. The instant their eyes met, she quickly glanced away, her freckled cheeks reddening. She couldn’t be unaware of Samuel’s friendship with Annemarie. She couldn’t even presume he wouldn’t know she’d been seeing Gilbert.

Forcing his mind back to the sergeant, Samuel offered a few scriptural assurances about prodigal sons and promised to keep Sergeant King’s grandson in his prayers. He excused himself and strode toward the exit, hoping he could escape the ward without being drawn into a conversation with Mary McClarney.

No such luck.

“Chaplain, a word if you don’t mind?” Mary finished administering a patient’s injection, then gathered her supplies onto a small metal tray and covered them with a cloth. She nodded toward the door, and Samuel followed her out. After depositing the tray in the work area behind the nurses’ station, Mary suggested they talk in an unoccupied waiting room nearby.

“I have a feeling I know what this is about, Miss McClarney.” Samuel strode to the window and laced his fingers behind his back. “And I’m not at all sure we should be having this conversation.”

“But I’ve no one else I can confide in. Not even my dear mum would understand.” She came up beside him and wrung her hands. “I know you’re friends with Gilbert—Lieutenant Ballard—and I just want you to know I didn’t pursue him.

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