Uncharted Hope (The Uncharted Series Book 5)

  Books by Keely Brooke Keith

  UNCHARTED

  The Land Uncharted

  Uncharted Redemption

  Uncharted Inheritance

  Christmas with the Colburns

  Uncharted Hope

  Uncharted Journey

  Uncharted Destiny

  Uncharted Promises

  UNCHARTED BEGINNINGS

  Aboard Providence

  Above Rubies

  All Things Beautiful

  Uncharted Hope

  Keely Brooke Keith

  Edenbrooke Press

  Uncharted Hope

  Copyright 2017 Keely Brooke Keith

  Published by Edenbrooke Press

  Nashville, Tennessee

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form. For inquiries and information, please contact the publisher at: edenbrookepress@gmail.com

  Scripture taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. All characters, places, names, events are either a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any likeness to any events, locations, or persons, alive or otherwise, is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover Designed by Najla Qamber Designs

  Interior Design by Edenbrooke Press

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  Bonus Excerpt of Uncharted Journey

  More Books by Keely Brooke Keith

  About Keely Brooke Keith

  “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.”

  Jeremiah 29:11

  Chapter One

  At half past nine, boots scuffed the pavestones outside the medical cottage, followed by a rapid-fire knock. “Doctor Bradshaw?” A man’s baritone resounded through the closed door. “Are you in there?”

  Sophia Ashton rushed across the office and flung the door wide, causing the desk lamp’s flame to flicker. “The doctor isn’t in—” A sharp breath caught in her chest at the sight of James Roberts’ unconscious body draped like hunters’ game over Nicholas Vestal’s stout shoulders. Outside the darkened doorway, a bay gelding harnessed to a farm wagon shuffled nervously.

  Nicholas turned sideways to carry his lanky coworker through the doorway. “James passed out cold in the shepherds’ cabin this evening. He has been drifting in and out of consciousness ever since.” Nicholas lumbered to the patient cot by the far wall of Dr. Lydia Bradshaw’s office and deposited James as if he were a hay bale.

  “I’m awake now.” James’s muffled voice cleared as he rolled onto his back. “And I don’t need a doctor.”

  Sophia gave James a quick visual inspection—slight pallor, dewy skin, and bloodshot eyes. It could be several infirmities. Only one month into her training, she had neither the ability to diagnose nor to attempt care without Lydia. She pointed at the back of the Colburn house, which was visible through the open doorway. “I’ll get Doctor Bradshaw.”

  James attempted to sit up. “No need. I’m leaving.”

  “You would pass out again before you reached the wagon. Even if we made it back to the Foster farm, I’m not carrying your pitiful carcass to the cabin.” Nicholas pressed James back to the cot with the heel of his hand. “The boss man said you need to see the doctor tonight, so you will see the doctor.”

  James moaned, his damp hair sticking to his face. “Everett Foster worries too much. I’m fine.”

  “You can’t move the flock to the western pastures next week if you’re sick.” Nicholas’s expression bespoke an irritated coworker. It softened as he turned his gaze to Sophia. He hooked his thumbs in his suspenders. “Sorry to bother the quiet of your evening, Miss Ashton. It was necessary. We’ve spent two days setting fence posts from dawn to dusk—nigh two hundred posts a day. James here has worked himself into a fever.”

  “I’m fi—” James’s eyes swam and his head hit the wool blanket, ending his protest.

  Sophia dashed to the cot and felt the pulse at James’s wrist—strong and steady. Heat radiated from his clammy skin, and it wasn’t from the late summer warmth.

  She turned his hand. A red line stemmed from an oozing blister around his thumb, ran over the top of his hand and disappeared under his sleeve. She’d read about this in one of the medical texts Lydia had assigned her—one of the ancient books the founders had brought to the Land when they settled here in the eighteen sixties. Her stomach fluttered. “His blood is infected. If this line reaches his heart, he will die.”

  Nicholas’s deep-set eyes grew wide under his black brows. He dropped back a step then shuffled hastily out the door. “Stay with James. I’ll get the doctor.”

  “I’m probably wrong,” Sophia said over her shoulder, regretting the panic her unofficial diagnosis had created.

  Nicholas was already gone.

  “I didn’t mean to alarm him,” she mumbled to the unconscious shepherd on the cot as she examined his other hand. Same blistered skin, same red mark. She unbuttoned his cuff and traced the line over his forearm. The red streak trailed up his arm and ended before his shoulder.

  A clear-globed lantern on the worktable added soft light to the cozy medical office. It wasn’t bright enough, so she lit the oil lamp on the table beside the cot. As the flame grew, light thinned the shadows on James’s face. He stirred back toward consciousness.

  Dr. Lydia Bradshaw hurried into the medical office several paces ahead of Nicholas. Sophia bit back a sigh of relief and moved away from the cot to give her mentor space to work. Lydia’s brown hair fell loosely over her shoulders and bore indentations where pins had held it up smartly all day. She immediately checked James’s blood pressure, respiration, and temperature.

  Sophia had only thought of pulse rate. She should have known what to do. It was no excuse she’d only had a month of training with Lydia or that James was the first patient she’d encountered in need of urgent care. She wasn’t clever enough for the medical portion of the job. Maybe Lydia would still keep Sophia at the end of her three-month trial if she proved herself in their research efforts. That was all she really wanted to do: conduct research with the gray leaf medicine.

  Maybe she wouldn’t be good at that either.

  While Sophia stood nearby and wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt, Lydia worked confidently with gentle movements and relaxed shoulders. Her soothing words radiated peace and reassured her patient. It was a gift Sophia would never have.

  Lydia glanced at Sophia while examining James’
s arms. “Go to the house and put the kettle on, please. We need boiling water to make gray leaf tea to fight this infection.”

  “No!” James struggled to push himself up. He winced when he put pressure on his blistered hands. “Please, no gray leaf tea.”

  Sophia paused at the doorway. Lydia gave her a look confirming the order.

  Outside, a warm evening breeze from the nearby ocean carried its briny aroma through the pines and the gray leaf trees. As she passed the horse and wagon parked between the medical cottage and the back door of the Colburn house, Nicholas’s footsteps trailed behind her.

  A lamp burned brightly on the kitchen table, and the fading scents of the Colburn family’s dinner still clung to the air. She’d missed another meal.

  Reverend John Colburn, Lydia’s father, called out from the parlor. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, Mr. Colburn. I need to boil water.” She pressed the foot pedal beneath the sink and filled a copper kettle. “Nicholas Vestal brought us a sick coworker from the Foster farm. Lydia has everything quite under control in the cottage.”

  “She usually does.” A page turned casually in the parlor. “Connor is upstairs with the baby. Bethany is in her room, if you need an extra hand. I will leave the lamp on in the kitchen when I go to bed.”

  “Thank you.” She set the kettle on the stove and checked the gray leaf chips that smoldered in the firebox. Nicholas stood in the doorway, watching her. Once Sophia’s hands were empty, she wasn’t sure what to do with them. She looked at Nicholas. “Do you need something?”

  “No, I…” He pulled off his broad-rimmed hat as if suddenly remembering he shouldn’t wear it indoors or while speaking to a lady or some other chivalrous rule Sophia’s father had never followed. “I thought you might need help.”

  She shook her head. “I assist Lydia with patient care. It’s part of my training. You have already helped by bringing James here. I’m sure he will be very grateful to you once he is feeling better.”

  “I doubt it. He protested the whole way here—when he wasn’t passed out in the wagon bed that is.” Nicholas grinned, bringing light to his dark irises. “No, it will be a long time before he forgives me for this. I’d better sleep with one eye open for a while.”

  Nicholas got a smile out of her. He was pleasant to look at with his caring eyes and determined jaw shadowed by stubble. A handsome face wasn’t enough to distract her from her duty. She held her hand above the kettle’s spout, checking for steam. “You don’t have to wait with me.”

  “I don’t mind. I was hoping I’d get to see you soon, not like this of course… not wishing my friend ill so I could see you. I tried to steal a moment with you privately after church the last few weeks. There are always so many people around. What I mean to say is…” His feet advanced a step as he struggled for words. “I was hoping we could spend time together. We could picnic at the shore.”

  She almost laughed. “I’m a little busy here, Nicholas.”

  He chuckled. “No, not now. One day soon. I know a nice place on the bluffs. Or we could take a walk. It doesn’t matter what we do. I just want to get to know you.”

  If her research kept her too busy to eat dinner with the Colburns, she certainly didn’t have time for courting. “I’m flattered by your offer, but I need to focus on my training so Dr. Bradshaw will make my position permanent.”

  “I know it’s tradition to ask a girl’s father for permission before courting, so I will make the trip to Woodland, if you would consider me. Everett would give me the time off.”

  She bristled. “Please don’t go to my parents about me… ever.”

  Shock briefly widened his eyes. “Oh.”

  “I’m sorry.” The kettle began to whistle. She lifted it off the stove and flashed Nicholas a polite smile despite his ignoring her busyness. “I have work to do. You should go back to the medical office with James. I won’t be long. Please, tell Dr. Bradshaw the water just came to a boil. Thank you, Nicholas.”

  She turned her attention to the cupboard not giving him a chance to press the matter. He stood for a moment longer, staring. She pulled a tray from the cupboard and filled a pitcher with cold water but didn’t relax until he left the kitchen.

  When Sophia returned to the cottage, Lydia was standing at the worktable, grinding dried gray leaves in a stone mortar. She had wrapped her hair into a tight bun. Nicholas was sitting in the chair beside the desk, threading the brim of his hat between his fingers. He stood when Sophia walked into the medical office and sat back down when she didn’t make eye contact. She hadn’t meant to be rude. Being warm would only encourage his pursuit.

  Sophia set the tray on the worktable while Lydia sprinkled the crushed gray leaves into a tea strainer. Though simply making tea, the doctor’s every movement conveyed methodical expertise that Sophia wished she possessed. If she didn’t show advancement in her medical studies in the next two months, she’d be out of a job and a home. The thought of going back to her sister’s house opened a crater in her stomach. When she had left Alice’s, she promised herself she would never be shackled again.

  Lydia clamped the strainer shut and lifted her chin at a cup. “Pour the hot water, please.”

  Sophia obeyed, eager to witness the miracle healing of the gray leaf for the first time.

  James was lying on the cot with both infected hands resting palm up on his hips. He spoke through clenched teeth. “Can’t you put salve on the blisters instead of making me ingest that noxious drink?” His voice broke as he pushed himself up. “I hate gray leaf tea.”

  Lydia carried the cup with both hands. “I’ll put salve on the blisters. You still must drink the tea. Bacteria from your infected blisters have entered your blood. You need a full dose of gray leaf tea to stop the infection. It is the only medicine we have that will stop sepsis.” She sat beside James on the edge of the cot. “Its taste is strong but pleasant, if that is what you’re anxious about.”

  James gulped air. “That’s not it. Gray leaf tea makes me crazy. I had to drink it once as a child. It made every inch of my skin tingle. The heat inside my gut burned for hours. I hated that feeling. I can’t drink gray leaf tea again. I won’t.”

  Lydia proffered the cup. “James, I know this is difficult for you. There is nothing else that can fight the infection. Chances are you will die within a few days if you don’t drink this now.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  Nicholas stood abruptly, shoulders square and feet wide. “Just drink it, James. It’s only tea.”

  “No.” James’s fists tightened into knots of blister and knuckle. “I can’t do it.”

  Lydia flashed Nicholas a look, and he reluctantly lowered himself to the chair.

  James resembled a terrified child despite his day’s worth of dark whiskers. His fear of the gray leaf medicine would kill him if he didn’t drink the tea. Sophia inched closer to the cot, wanting to wipe the sweat from his brow and the terror from his eyes. The instant she got near, he sprang up out of panic.

  “I can’t stay here!” James yelled, and his elbow knocked into the side of Sophia’s head with a crack that made her ears ring. Pain stabbed through her temple like a pick through an ice block. White specks fuzzed her vision. She covered her face.

  An eerie echo trailed after each voice, making the others in the room sound miles away…

  “I am so sorry!”

  Then Nicholas’s low voice: “What’s wrong with you, James?”

  “It was an accident.”

  “Just drink the tea and stop acting like a child.”

  “Gentlemen, please.” Lydia’s confident hand touched Sophia’s arm. “Are you all right?”

  The only thing worse than being hurt in front of people was being asked are you all right? She fought to keep herself from crying. At last, she opened her eyes. “I’m all right. Just startled.”

  “I’m terribly sorry, Miss Ashton.” James looked at her with a pain-filled expression as he sat back down on the c
ot. He picked up the cup of gray leaf tea and held it so tightly his knuckles blanched. “Please, forgive my behavior. I’ve been foolish.” He put the cup to his lips, closed his eyes, and drank the medicine with three loud swallows.

  Nicholas stayed within inches of Sophia until James finished drinking the gray leaf medicine and laid himself back down. She might have found Nicholas’s protective posture charming if it had been necessary, but he was in the way.

  After a moment, Lydia looked at Nicholas. “I need to keep James here for the night. You should go home and get some rest.”

  Nicholas caught Sophia’s eye before he left the medical cottage. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  Touched by the genuine concern in his voice, she followed him to the door. “I am. Thank you.”

  “Send someone to get me if his condition worsens.”

  “I will.” She slowly closed the door and watched Nicholas walk away. He glanced back at her and tipped his hat. Something about his gaze stirred her soul. She wished it hadn’t. She needed to focus on her training if she was going to keep this job.

  As the gray leaf’s medicinal properties took effect, James’s color began to return, and he stopped sweating. He said he could no longer feel the pain, yet his body looked as tense as a cat on a clothesline. It was as if he expected the gray leaf to do something maleficent, which it never had been known to do.

  Sophia waited with gauze in one hand and scissors in the other as Lydia cleaned and bandaged James’s blistered hands. She tried to fix her attention on Lydia’s actions as her purpose there was to learn. Her thoughts drifted to James. He was the first desperate patient she’d helped care for, and her heart ached with pity for him. She wanted to soothe him somehow or help him talk about his pain, his past, the weather, anything. After his earlier reaction, it was best to stay quiet and help Lydia.

  James’s hair was beginning to dry. It would have touched his collar had he been standing. When he turned his head on the pillow, his hair spread in a shaggy cascade the color of pine bark. His chest rose and fell rapidly with nervous breath. One foot shook, vibrating the cot.