Iron Lady (House of Winslow Book #19)

Gilbert Morris

Description

Turn-of-the-century New York City--a place of opportunity, deception, and phenomenal need.As America makes its ascent as a world power, three young daughters of Winslow come to bustling New York City in 1902 seeking careers and direction for their lives. But each of the Winslow cousins finds a different world and is drawn in her own separate way.Ruth Winslow feels called to be a missionary and comes to New York's Baxter Hospital to train as a nurse. She finds rich fulfillment in her work among the poor and suffering immigrants--as well as a growing interest in the young Scottish doctor David Burns.Priscilla Winslow joins Ruth in the nursing program but has a passion for the bright lights of show business. Despite all the warnings, when her dreams come true, life on the stage takes on a dark side.Esther Winslow is engaged to a wealthy New York businessman but is restless to do something meaningful with her life. Her photographs of the plight of the immigrants in the tenement slums and her meeting a young South African doctor who risks everything to help the sick opens a new door to her, but where will it lead?

Sujets

• Historical fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Baker Publishing Group
• Date de parution: 01 février 2006
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781441270443
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

© 1996 by Gilbert Morris 2006 edition
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
Ebook edition created 2011
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher and copyright owners. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
ISBN 978-1-4412-7044-3
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.
Cover illustration by Dan Thornberg
Cover design by Josh Madison
To Kermit and Frances Bryant
Kermit, you always said that if I’d listen to you more—I’d know more. I think you’re probably right! I’ve always admired you, and I am proud to call you my friend!
Frances, I wish every young woman in America could take lessons from you on how to be a godly wife. You are a real darling—and in my eyes you’ve been what a woman of God should be.
CONTENTS
PART ONE
New Lives (1900-1902)
1. Sentence of Death
2. “My Life Is a Farce!”
3. Ruth and Priscilla 46
4. New York—New York!
5. God Has Different Callings
6. The Iron Lady
PART TWO
Priscilla (1902)
7. Ellis Island
8. Priscilla Meets a Man
9. The Smell of Poverty
10. A Star Is Born
11. “She’s Not for Him!”
12. Priscilla’s Choice
PART THREE
Esther (1903)
13. Simon Is Unhappy
14. The Big Chance
15. A Kiss Is Not Love
16. Esther Gets a Shock
17. A Matter of Life or Death
18. “God Can Straighten It All Out”
PART FOUR
Ruth (1903)
19. Dr. Burns Speaks Out
20. Epidemic!
21. The Letter
22. “Never Was a Hoss Couldn’t Be Tamed!”
23. A Day in Court
24. Winslow Women—and Their Men

CHAPTER ONE
Sentence of Death
A pale November sun beat down on the African veld as the column of mounted men wound slowly through a valley, then emerged at the top of a ridge. There was a serpentine quality to the line of horsemen as the troop descended, moving through the broken ground. All of the men wore floppy hats that shaded their faces. Some were fresh-faced boys, still in their teens, their eyes gleaming with excitement at the thought of the action that was to come. More of them were men in their sixties with full, bushy beards, their faces lined by a thousand suns under the African skies. Bandoleers were draped across the shoulders of most of the commandos, and they carried modern rapid-fire Mauser rifles capable of killing at immense distances.
Jan Kruger rode at the tail of the column. His throat and nostrils felt thick with the dust raised by the horses’ hooves, and he was weary from the long ride that had brought the column almost thirty miles in the last eight hours. Kruger was a tall man, just over six feet, with tawny hair that crept out from under his brown floppy hat, and a pair of steady hazel eyes set in his squarish face. There was a lean strength to his body, and his sunburned hands that gripped the bridle looked immensely strong. He rode the black horse easily, as did all of the men, for they were all expert horsemen. Far ahead, down the column, a splotch of color caught his eye, and he saw the vierkleur —the national flag of the Transvaal. For a moment, Kruger sat and enjoyed the slight breeze that stirred the air. When he saw the banner suddenly flutter, Kruger felt a trace of emotion, half pride and half apprehension. In the battle that was to come he would take no part in the fighting, but afterward he would be in great need, for many of the men, he knew, would be wounded. As the surgeon of the commandos, he had gained considerable experience patching together the mutilated and fragmented bodies of the South African soldiery.
“Well, are you going to join in the fighting, Doctor?”
Toby Eloff, a short, muscular young man of twenty-two, had pulled his gray stallion alongside Kruger’s horse. He had a pair of clear blue eyes, bright as ingots, that gleamed in his round face, which was sunburned to a brick red. Eloff was a farmer in the Transvaal when there was no war. Now, he was a member of Louis Botha’s trained commando unit. Excitement stirred in the young man as he lifted himself in the saddle and stared ahead. “Looks like we’re going to ride all day. I don’t see why General Botha don’t give us a shot at the English.”
“I think you’ll get your chance soon enough, Toby,” Jan said, smiling at the young man. The two had become fast friends in the fighting that had erupted—now known as the Boer War. Kruger himself had been serving in a hospital at Ladysmith. He had been caught up in the struggle that had erupted between England and her South African possessions. Looking down at his dusty uniform, a wry smile tugged at his broad lips as he thought how different this was from the clean white smock he had worn in the hospital. He slapped the dust from his coat ineffectively and shook his head. “I hardly think the general brought us out here just on a little ride—especially me.”
Eloff’s grin flashed quickly. “No, we’ve got to have a regular sawbones when we get shot up, don’t we, now?” The thought of getting shot did not seem to trouble the young soldier, for he rode along with Kruger speaking humorously of the last leave the two had taken. Then he broke off, saying, “Look—there’s the general giving orders. Looks like we’re going to set up camp.”
Sighing wearily, Jan Kruger lifted himself in the stirrups, arching his back. “None too soon for me!” He glanced down at his horse and shook his head. “I wasn’t made to ride like you farmers.”
“Why, Doctor, you’re a natural-born commando! Why don’t you take a gun and help us knock a few of the English off in this battle that’s coming up?”
This was a question that had been put to Jan Kruger by more than one of his comrades. When he had joined General Botha’s commandos, he had done so with the understanding that he would serve as a noncombatant. Kruger was well enough aware of the international law to understand that civilians were either noncombatants or they were considered spies. If he were found with a rifle in his hand, and it could be proven that he was not a soldier, the firing squad would be his fate. But this decision not to fight was a choice that came from his own philosophy as well. Jan Kruger had decided long ago—even when he was in his teens—to be a healer and not a destroyer. When the war had exploded in South Africa, his loyalty to his homeland, the Transvaal, was enormous. He felt that the English were totally in the wrong, and so he had chosen to pledge his loyalty and his medical skills in service to his people. Deep inside he felt a sense of hopelessness, for everyone knew that England had the most powerful army on the face of the earth. Their regiments were spread out over vast areas of the world from India to Africa, exercising a highly disciplined power and might that few dared to challenge. The Boers were a hard-fighting lot—expert marksmen, tremendous horsemen, and they knew every foot of the wild African terrain they were defending. Nevertheless, their numbers were few, and when one of them fell there was no replacement to step into his place.
Lieutenant Groeber pulled the men into a long line, spread out and looking down on a slight plain. The most obvious feature that Kruger saw was the railroad track. The twin rails gleamed in the sunlight, and he said to Toby, “I do believe you’re going to be taking some action against a train.”
“Yes, that’s what the word is.” Toby had been speaking to several of the other soldiers and now said, “There’ll be an armored train coming down there. The British will be shipping troops.” His eyes swept the scene, and he nudged Kruger with his elbow. “Look over there. They’ve got guns set up and the artillery is in place.” A gleeful note crept into his voice as he said, “Why, that train will get blown clean off the tracks!”
Shortly after, the men were ordered down onto the plain, where they began rolling rocks onto the track. Kruger took no part in this, but he watched as the men labored hard. A tall, broad-shouldered man rode up—General Louis Botha, the man in charge. He sat straight in his saddle atop his large stallion and watched silently. A man of medium size, he wore a bandoleer across his chest, as did the common soldiers. In his right hand he held a Mauser rifle carelessly, as if it were part of his body. Louis Botha was a fighting man. He had eyes that never stopped searching the ground in front of him, and a dark, short-cropped beard under a strong nose. There was a fearlessness about him that inspired his soldiers, and though he was a hard man, most of them idolized him. When he was satisfied with the pile of rocks, he uttered, “Enough! Back to your places!” then wheeled his stallion around and rode at full speed across the field.
Toby came scrambling back to his place, and his voice was high with excitement. “We’ll get ’em! You’ll see, Doctor.”
“I suppose I will,” Kruger said calmly, “but I hear it will be at dawn. Let’s cook up a bit of supper, all right?”
****
Just before dawn the next day, Jan Kruger nudged Toby Eloff in the side with his dusty boot.
“Eh, whot’s you doin’ that for?” Toby moaned from his rumpled bedroll.
“General Botha is wanting us up early, remember?” Jan said.
Off in the distance, a low rumble was heard as Jan doused the small fire with his remaining coffee. A final wisp of smoke curled up from the ashes as Jan packed away his tin cup in his saddlebag and rolled his blanket. “Come now, Toby, we don’t have much time before the train gets here.”
Moments later, the train appeared on the horizon. It was a troop train with a hundred fifty men, flanked by three armored trucks on each side of the armored engine. I