A Measure of Mercy
““Supper is being served in the dining car.” The conductor paused beside her. “You are Dr. Bjorklund, are you not?”
Yes . . . no? What? “I am Miss Bjorklund, ja, er yes.” Elizabeth had warned her that to those outside of Blessing, she was not yet a doctor. Her certificate would come from Dr. Morganstein on the completion of her studies in Chicago. If she managed to complete her studies there, that is. Every day since Vernon Baxter died, she’d questioned whether becoming a doctor was the purpose of her life.
And then Anna’s baby died too.
“I have heard good things about you. The folks of Blessing are indeed fortunate to have two capable doctors in such a small town. Farther west doctors are few and far between.”
Please, not another mission field. The day before she left, she’d received a letter from Reverend Ted Schuman in Africa. He’d managed to include another plea for her to listen to God’s calling, and if He wanted her in Africa, there was need of her services.
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