She dug through one of her father’s old trunks and pulled out a nightshirt. Carson was shorter than her father and smaller in the shoulders, but it wouldn’t matter. She wrestled the older man out of his remaining clothes and into the nightshirt before pulling the covers around him. He gave a soft moan as she felt his forehead. He was burning up.

Luke was glad to find the doctor finishing his dinner when he arrived. He explained the situation, and the doctor willingly accompanied him back to Gloriana’s house.

“We’ve returned,” Luke said, pushing open the door without knocking first. “The doctor is here.”

JT and the baby were still sitting at the table. JT was eating fruitcake and slipping an occasional piece to Sally.

“The baby probably shouldn’t have fruitcake,” Luke whispered to JT as they passed by on the way to the bedroom.

They found Gloriana sitting at his father’s side, wiping his brow with a wet cloth. He marveled that she should even bother, given the way his father had treated her.

“Dr. Moore, this is my father, Martin Carson.”

Luke’s father opened his eyes. “I’m not sick. Just . . . tired. You needn’t fuss.” He closed his eyes. “Needn’t fuss.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Dr. Moore said, motioning Gloriana aside.

“I’ll step outside so you can examine him,” she said, heading for the door.”

Luke followed her. “I’m touched you were willing to care for him. He’s done nothing but stand against us. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d thrown him out.”

“He’s sick. Perhaps that colored his reactions and responses to us.”

Luke shook his head and heaved a sigh. “I’d like to be able to give him that excuse, but I can’t. My father is something of a pompous bully.”

She put her hand on his arm. “I want to take care of him.” This time she shook her head. “Not because I hold any love for him . . . but because I don’t.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’ve been afraid of your father. I’ve been angry at your father. I’ve prayed he would leave and do so quickly. I’ve never had a kind thought for him. What kind of Christian am I, to feel so unkind toward another of God’s creatures? What gives me the right? I’m ashamed of my thoughts.”

Luke kissed the top of her head. “You are something else, Gloriana. I’m humbled by your words and I, too, am ashamed. I haven’t honored my father as I should. I haven’t even treated him as well as I might a complete stranger.”