Deep in the Valley Read Online Free Page A

something of a huff. She wore fitted jeans and boots, and a sweater that didn’t quite reach her waist. Her long, thick auburn hair swung across her shoulders in wide arcs. When she got to her station wagon she stopped, looked back over her shoulder toward the church, stomped her foot once in anger and finally got in the car.
    “Wanna bet Pastor Wickham’s got a nice red swatch across one cheek?” someone asked.
    “He’s as brave a preacher as we’ve ever had in this town,” someone said. “Why, would you chance the wrath of Clarice Wickham?”
    “That’s the very thing that drives him, I reckon.”
    The men all broke into laughter.
    “You know, that really isn’t funny,” June said to Tom, referring to the womanizing pastor.
    “Oh, I don’t know. You have to keep your sense of humor. Have you seen him lately?”
    “No, why?”
    “He’s taken off the rug. He now has—what are they called? Plugs?”
    “Not really!”
    “Really. His vanity is almost a reverent thing.”
    She chuckled in spite of herself. But then she said, “I don’t think it would hurt to have a word with him, Tom. You, better than anyone, know how volatile and unpredictable these domestic situations can be. His roving eyes and slippery hands are going to cause somereal trouble one of these days. What the boys say is true—Mrs. Wickham’s wrath could do some actual damage. What if she gets her fill of his antics and flirtations? She seems a little…I don’t know…high-strung.”
    “I know you’re right in what you say, June. And maybe I should say something. It wouldn’t hurt for him to know we know.” Tom shrugged. “Might even serve as a warning. But when I think about those hair plugs, I just don’t think I could say something to him with a straight face.”
    June lifted an eyebrow. “I bet if he patted your ass and blew in your ear, you could.”
    Tom’s eyes widened briefly. He cleared his throat, drained his cup and said, “You may have a point. I believe I’ll take a drive. See if I can overtake the Mull family in their old truck.”
     
    When June Hudson was a little girl, she’d thought she would grow up to be her father’s nurse. Even then she knew that Doc Hudson held the life of the town in his capable hands. She went off to college to become an R.N. This might have come to pass, but she was intercepted by a chemistry professor at Berkeley who recognized in her a special ability in the sciences. So, with the blessing of her father, she switched her major from nursing to pre-med.
    During vacations and school breaks she worked with her dad. At Elmer’s side it was more than family medicine she trained to practice, it was country doctoring. And there was a distinction. They often had to make do on less, by way of supplies and technologies,and frequently had to improvise to successfully treat a patient. It was more stimulating and challenging than any big-city specialty. What San Francisco doctor would be called out to the highway at 2:00 a.m. to try and hold together the victims of a car accident until a helicopter could be summoned? Or drive out to a logging camp to haul a man and his severed limb to the nearest emergency facility?
    She returned to Grace Valley permanently twelve years later, a fresh-faced, idealistic young doctor. But in her time away, she had forgotten a few things about her town.
    First, the people were slow to trust her—a new young doctor, a woman—even though they’d known her forever. She had to work beside Elmer for a few years, acting as his apprentice. It wasn’t until she had performed a few of what the locals perceived as medical miracles that she was trusted enough to see a logger with his boots off. Even now, with Elmer mostly retired, there were still men who wouldn’t bring their ailments to June until Elmer had seen them first and insisted. Half the time he saw them in the café or filling station or post office. Yet for most who lived in the valley, June was the official