Amazon 5* Review~~
This book was a very good book. I would never have thought family history could be made this interesting to the point were I could not put it down. The characters were very realistic and lovable. Great read. Left me wanting to read more.
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Torie travels to 1891 and inhabits the body of her great-grandaunt Mahala Wyman
Dr. Jacob Krout and family
The next moment, the ripple of my consciousness expanded
outside from my own immediate physicality when I saw a man dressed in a black
suit come to stand beside my bed and I became aware of the shift on my mattress
caused by his weight as he sat down beside me. I looked up into his face and
watched dispassionately as he put the earpieces of a stethoscope into his ears
and his fingers worked the buttons on the front of a long-sleeved cotton
nightgown I wore, which I noticed now, and saw was embroidered with dozens of
blue and yellow blossoms. He placed the cool metal disc upon my bare chest and
listened intently to my heart which I could still feel fluttering like a
butterfly that was unevenly flitting across a meadow, pausing and starting.
I realized that I knew the man, or I should say that I
recognized him anyway. He was Dr. Jacob Krout and he’d been a doctor in Fremont
for more than forty-three years. He currently looked young and I guessed that
he was probably in his early to mid-thirties. I’d seen several photographs of
him in regional history books and also photo’s that others had added to his
online Findagrave memorial. He was buried in Cedar with his family and his wife
Mary Alice or “Allie” as she was known, was a daughter of Fremont pioneer
William Dinsmore.
Dr. Krout continued to quietly listen to my heart as I studied
his completely ordinary face but I was struck by the kindness in his light blue
eyes.
“Try to take a deep breath, Mahala,” he requested. “And
another, good.”
He smiled warmly at me and then he removed the stethoscope
from my chest, and removed the earpieces from his ears, letting the instrument
dangle about his neck before he buttoned my gown up again.
“I will be making the rounds to see your sister Ivy when I
leave here,” he said by way of making small talk. “She and Joshua are sure
looking forward to that little one. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a couple more
anxious for a child in all my years.”
The doctor chuckled softly and looked from me to some point
at his right and woozy from the deep breaths I’d taken, I carefully turned my
head in that direction and became aware that someone was holding my left hand
when I felt it being squeezed and then I saw that my great-great-grandma Rose
was sitting at my left side in a straight-backed chair.
“We’re all looking forward to that new little grand baby,”
Rose said while patting my hand and she smiled at me lovingly. “I think Mahala
is more anxious than anyone. So how is your family, Dr. Krout; Allie and little
Erma?”
“Everyone’s just dandy. Erma will be going on ten years next
month,” he said.
The doctor looked back to me and smiled. “I will stop again
tomorrow to see how you’re coming along,” he assured me while taking his
stethoscope from his neck and placing it into a medical bag that he’d lifted
from the floor and placed upon his lap. He fastened the latch of the bag and
looked back at me, squeezing my free hand briefly in farewell as he rose to go.
“I’ll see you out, Doctor,” Rose offered politely.
“I can see myself out, Rose, please don’t bother,” he said
as he paused to pat her shoulder gently before walking to the door and turning
back with his hand on the knob, bowing slightly, “Until tomorrow, ladies.”
Rose turned her attention back to me as the bedroom door
closed softy after him and I noticed then that she had a bible open upon her
lap. She lifted from her chair and scooted it, turning it in a little closer toward
me so that I could easily look into her face before she settled herself again
and began reading to me from the bible. I have no idea what chapter it was
because the good book isn’t one of those on my book shelves at home and I
hadn’t cracked a bible since I’d been confirmed as a thirteen-year-old. Rose
finished the brief passage and then lifted my hand and leaning down, brought my
hand to her lips and kissed the back gently.
“Mahala, you’re the light of my life, sweetheart, I hope
that you know that. I love you so very much, precious. We’ll read and we’ll
pray every day until you are fully restored to health. I have faith in our Lord
God and you need to have faith in Him and believe.”
“I do Mother, and I will,” I agreed and then had a thought.
“Mother, what day is it?”
“Friday, April 10th,” she said with a puzzled
frown. “Why?”
“What year?” I asked. I was almost certain I knew already
because the doctor had mentioned Ivy being anxious to deliver Katie, but I just
wanted to have it confirmed.
She looked at me as though fearing I was having a fit or
something. She leaned forward and placed her cool palm against my forehead
gently, obviously searching for a fever before answering me.
“Why it’s eighteen and ninety-one, sweet. You know that.”
I smiled faintly but I felt as if the world were wobbling on
its axis and lights shimmered at the edge of my vision as I feared I might
black out from the shock because I knew that Mahala Wyman would die on April 11th, 1891.
