Читать книгу Courting the Doctor's Daughter - Janet Dean - Страница 12

Holding Ben in her arms, Mary hustled toward The Ledger, greeting the people she knew but avoiding conversation. She couldn’t waste a moment in idle chitchat, not after that disturbing encounter with Luke Jacobs.

Inside the newspaper office, Teddy Marshall, Charles’s typesetter, ran the printing press. The noise drilled into Mary’s aching head until it throbbed. The strong smell of ink hung in the air, as if the printed words hung there too. In her mind, frightening headlines swirled: “Medicine Man Makes Off With Orphan. Local Boy Claimed By Peddler.” At the prospect of losing Ben, Mary could barely breathe.

Charles rose from behind his desk, and Mary put Ben down. Still clutching the ball, the little boy ran to his uncle, throwing his free arm around Charles’s legs, and beamed up at him. “A nice man gave me a new ball!”

Charles shot Mary a puzzled look, and then smiled at Ben. “That’s a great ball, Ben.”

Though taller and leaner than Sam, her brother-in-law looked enough like her deceased husband to have been his twin instead of his older brother. Some days the resemblance hurt, fueling Mary’s regrets, but today the likeness brought comfort. Since Sam’s death, Charles had been her rock. He would help her.

He kissed Mary’s cheek. “Are you okay? You look pale.”

“I’ve got a headache.”

“One of your bad ones?”

She nodded. If only Charles knew. This time her headache was six feet tall and refusing to leave town.

Without a word, Charles ushered her into a chair, then led Ben into the back where he kept treats and toys for his children. Ben could play freely there while she unburdened herself to Charles.

He returned and gave her a smile. “Ben’s nibbling graham crackers and rolling his ball into the wall.” He motioned across the street. “You just missed Addie. She finished her column, then walked over to her shop to go over the accounts. Why don’t you join her for a cup of tea? I know she’d like a break, and a visit might do you good. I’ll keep an eye on Ben.”

Charles’s wife had become Mary’s best friend. She’d like nothing better than to confide in Addie. But her thoughts about Luke Jacobs were mere speculation. Still, they would alarm her sister-in-law, especially after what she’d been through with William and Emma.

“Actually, I want to talk to you.” Mary glanced out the window, relieved to see no sign of Luke Jacobs. “Alone.”

The crease deepened between Charles’s brow, and he took a seat across from her. “Sounds serious.”

“Have you heard about the new peddler in town?”

He nodded. “We’re always looking for news. Today, he was it.” He smiled. “From what my reporter said, you weren’t on the town’s welcoming committee.”

Mary bit her lower lip. “That man has me in a tizzy, Charles. First selling a remedy he concocted himself, making all kinds of claims about what it can do. Folks can’t throw their money away fast enough.”

Charles took Mary’s hand. “Just because your mother took ill from nursing a peddler isn’t a reason to judge them all.”

Mary couldn’t think about her mother. Not now.

But Charles’s words reminded her that the Bible had plenty to say about judging others—none of it good. Still, how could she protect her loved ones if she wasn’t alert when problems came knocking?

“Ben and I ran into him a few minutes ago. From the rapt expression on his face, he has a special interest in Ben. He even went against my wishes and bought him a ball.”

“I’m surprised he disregarded your authority, but I can’t see any harm in being generous.”

“I do, if he bought the ball to get into Ben’s good graces and discover his name. Why would he do that? What does he want?”

She clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking. Luke Jacobs meant trouble. Not merely for her or this town but perhaps for Ben, an innocent little boy she loved like her own.

Charles rose and crossed to the window, staring out on the street. Her brother-in-law guarded his opinions until he had all the facts, which Mary found both endearing and frustrating. But today she wished he’d drop his editor hat and share her apprehension, instead of refusing to sense a threat when it stared him in the face.

“Other than his expression, did he say something to alarm you?”

“Well, no, but Sheriff Rogers said when he mentioned the orphans, Luke Jacobs’s eyes lit.”

“I’d hardly call that evidence of a particular interest in our orphans.”

“Mark my words, Charles. Nothing good will come from that peddler’s presence in our town. I can feel it in here.” She tapped the spot over her heart.

Yet, if she hadn’t been taken with Luke Jacobs, why did she get lost in his dark, captivating eyes? How could that scoundrel have that control over her?

The man was a magician, pure and simple.

Charles crossed to her and took her hand. “Let’s not panic. Still, we should pray about this, asking God to put His shield around Ben.”

But even as she heard Charles’s words and admitted their wisdom, Mary knew she would not stand by waiting on God and let Luke Jacobs destroy Ben’s world.

Saturday afternoon, Luke climbed the stairs to the room over the Whitehall Café, his home in this town whether Mary Graves liked it or not.

His landlords had equipped the space with old, mismatched furniture, shabby but surprisingly comfortable and clean. When he crawled into the iron bed at night, the springs creaked, but a cozy quilt covered the mattress. Quite a change for him, a man accustomed to posh dwellings and elegant restaurants. This trip had been yet another in a long string of lessons on what mattered. With a roof over his head and food in his stomach, he had everything he needed.

When he’d spoken to the café owner Monday, she’d appeared glad to have him move in, gladder still to get his money, though disappointment he’d rent by the week had clouded her eyes. She’d asked for cash in advance, no doubt seeing him as shiftless.

Not so long ago, her description would have fit him like a glove. If only he’d done right by Lucy. If only he could undo his past. How could he have repeated the family history he despised?

He slumped into a chair by the window, staring aimlessly at the street. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t erase those years when he’d rejected God. He’d tried to make up for his past. Spent months searching for Lucy and his child, only to learn she’d died from complications not long after delivering his son. Every piece of the puzzle since that revelation had shaken him to the core.

His eyes stung. That he could never ask her forgiveness for covering his responsibility with a pile of dollars rippled through him. His only recourse now was to ensure Ben was loved and would not pay for his father’s sins. Luke’s breath caught.

Father. Luke could barely wrap his mind around the word. He didn’t feel like a father. He didn’t know how to be a father. He didn’t want to be a father.

He rose and paced the room. His central goal, to find a cure for epilepsy without potent narcotics like laudanum, had evaded him. He’d interrupted his quest to find Ben. Now that he’d found him, he’d stay just long enough to evaluate his health and make certain he received good care.

He couldn’t believe the aggravating woman who’d claimed his medicine contained spirits was Ben’s guardian. She’d be surprised to learn his remedy was a concoction of catnip, peppermint, chamomile and honey. Despite what catnip did to cats, he’d found the herb a safe and effective tranquilizer for humans and an excellent treatment for insomnia, colds, colic, upset stomachs, nervous headaches and fevers. This trip gave him the opportunity to test his remedy’s effectiveness on a considerable number of people. Its success pleased him. When he returned to New York, he’d expand production.

In the meantime, unless Luke planned to give up eating, he needed money. Setting up his lab had devoured most of his savings. The rest went to producing his medicine and buying his rig. He had no choice but to wire his housekeeper and ask her to close up his house. He could no longer afford to pay her salary.

His sorry financial state was exactly what he deserved, according to his father, who ridiculed Luke’s refusal to spend a dime of the family money.

But nothing came without a price and the price of sharing in the Jacobs wealth was more than Luke was willing to pay. First thing tomorrow he’d look for work.

In the meantime, he’d find ways to spend time with his son without raising Mary Graves’s suspicion.

Mary shifted in her chair, wishing she could be anywhere but here. Luke Jacobs had turned her life upside down, and she’d let her chores slide. The list grew longer every day: washing, ironing, mending, cleaning. She’d promised to take food to the Shriver family, to make sure Mr. Lemming took his medicine and then tonight she had a Sunday school lesson to prepare. Even with the boys’ help, she wouldn’t be finished by nightfall.

But her father had pointed out it had been her idea to find another doctor for the practice and insisted she be present at the interviews with each candidate who’d answered her newspaper ad. She hoped this interview would bring the help Mary sought.

The first applicant sat across from her. The hunched set of his shoulders and the way he twisted his hands gave Mary a bad feeling.

Her father looked up from reading the young doctor’s résumé and shoved his reading glasses farther along his nose. “You finished last in your class, Dr. Edgar.”

“Yes, but I passed the course.”

“I’m not willing to turn my patients over to a doctor who barely passed medical school, especially a regional school like Central College of Physicians and Surgeons.” He rose. “I’m sorry, but I have to terminate this interview.”

Dr. Edgar’s face flushed. “No offense, Dr. Lawrence, but are you in a position to be so selective?”

“Yes, I believe I am, young man, as long as I’m alive and kicking.” He handed the paperwork to the doctor, then ushered the red-faced applicant out of the office.

When he returned, Mary said, “Maybe the other two applicants—” Her father’s scowl stopped her.

“If a doctor is to take over this practice, Mary, he must be competent, honorable and care about people. If such a man exists, I’ll hire him on the spot.”

Mary nodded. The first interview hadn’t been a positive beginning, but surely one of the other two applicants would meet her father’s high standards.

She found the boys in the waiting room playing hide-and-seek. Michael counted to ten, while Ben and Philip scurried for cover. As soon as Ben saw her, he forgot the game and plunged into her skirt. “Is it time to go home?”

“Remember, we’re having lunch here with Grandpa.”

A hank of dark brown hair tumbled over Philip’s brow, covering a hazel eye. He swept it off his forehead. “Ben wants to play ball.”

Michael’s green eyes fixed on her. “Why can’t we take him outside? We do at home.”

Mary glanced through the window. The sun shone bright for October; the wind had died. A perfect fall day. But with Luke Jacobs snooping about town, she couldn’t bear letting Ben out of her sight.

Ben jumped up and down, his pleading eyes melting her resolve. “Can I? Please?”

If the boys played out back, no one could see them from the street. “All right, just until we eat lunch. Here’s your ball.”

Ben whooped and trotted alongside her as they headed for the door. She had work to do, but the beauty of the day and the boys’ shiny faces pulled her. Chores shouldn’t come before her children but sadly often did.

A few minutes later, her father joined them and raked leaves while her sons tossed the ball. As soon as her father gathered a pile, the boys tumbled into it, hollering with delight. Even her father, who saw his efforts undone in minutes, chuckled at their antics.

“Children and leaves go together,” he said, resting a forearm on the rake. “When you were young, every fall you collected leaves and pressed them in the pages of my medical books.” He smiled then tugged her close. “Daughter, you’ve brought indescribable joy to your mother and me.”

Mary leaned into him, wanting to be that carefree girl, instead of a woman weighed down by the past and what the future might hold. “You and Mother gave me a wonderful life, Daddy.”

Leaving the boys to their fun, Mary and her father ambled indoors arm-in-arm. “I’ll clean the surgery before I start lunch,” Mary said.

“You have your own chores to do. I can manage here.”

“We’ll work together.”

Her father crossed to the counter where a familiar bottle sat.

Too familiar.

A knot formed in Mary’s stomach. Luke Jacobs’s potion reminded her of their confrontation in the square. Of his unsettling interest in Ben. And his accusation that she’d followed him to the livery. Every time they met fire or ice erupted in her veins, leaving her reeling. Feeling wrung out. Confused or frightened.

Her father picked up the container. “I decided to give that peddler’s tonic a try. He told me the secret ingredient is catnip. Imagine that?”

“How could you purchase that man’s remedy, knowing I worry about his interest in Ben?”

“Kitten, I’m a doctor. I must be open to anything that’ll help my patients, whether I like the seller or not.” He smiled. “I took a dose last night and got the best night’s sleep I’ve had in ages. I plan to buy a couple more bottles.”

“I didn’t know you had trouble sleeping, Daddy.”

“Ever since your mother—” He looked away, blinking hard, then cleared his throat. “I fall asleep in my chair, but by the time I get to bed, I’m wide awake, staring at the ceiling.”

To learn the fatigue on her father’s face had more to do with the pain he carried in his heart than the patients in his practice banged against Mary’s lungs. She slipped her arms around his waist and gave him a hug. “Delivering babies and making house calls in the middle of the night doesn’t help either. What you need is another doctor in here.”

He ignored her comment. “All I need is a couple nights of taking this stuff. That should break the cycle.” He gave her a smile. “That medicine might do you some good too, with those severe headaches of yours.”

She stepped away from her father. “Never!”

He laughed and tweaked her chin. “You’re a stubborn woman, Mary Lynn Graves.”

In his humorous tone, Mary heard his approval and basked in its warmth. She laid a soft palm on her father’s cheek. “Like you, Daddy. Just like you.”

“Goes to show, the Good Lord knew what He was doing when He brought you to us.”

Moisture filled her eyes. Her father always made her feel special, loved. She’d expected all men to be like Henry Lawrence.

How wrong she’d been.

She craved the happiness her father had shared with her mother, happiness she’d never found with her husband.

At night with the boys tucked in bed, she ached with loneliness, reliving all those endless evenings she’d spent waiting for Sam, dreading his shuffling steps, his hands fumbling at the door, his blurry eyes resting on, yet not seeing, her. Even with him in the house lying beside her, he was lost to her. Alcohol took her place as his companion, as the love of his life. She couldn’t compete with a mistress that enabled him to forget the suffering of his childhood.

What had she become? A woman focused on regrets, instead of counting her blessings—her father and her sons. They were the only men she needed in her life.

What if she lost Ben? A shiver snaked down her spine. She met her father’s gaze. “I’m afraid of what Luke Jacobs could do to all of our lives.”

“I’m sorry. I know that peddler has you upset, but I suspect you’re overreacting.” He gave her a smile. “The Good Lord will work it out. Give Him time.”

Obviously, her father didn’t grasp the enormity of the situation. “Given enough time, Ben could be riding on the seat of that peddler’s wagon—on his way out of town.”

Her father frowned. “Guess I’ll have another talk with that fellow. See what I make of him.”

Henry Lawrence wouldn’t let anyone harm her or the boys. A load of worry shifted from her shoulders to his. With a lighter step, she scrubbed the surgery and then headed to her father’s quarters to prepare lunch.

After they’d eaten, Mary set about cleaning her father’s rooms. Michael and Philip had joined their grandfather out back, once again raking leaves but this time burning them in a barrel. Mary kept Ben inside, away from smoke, a trigger for his asthma. Nearby her new son stacked the wooden blocks she’d loved as a child. Her parents saved everything she’d ever touched, no matter how insignificant. She soaked up that realization like a thirsty sponge. She owed them everything, God even more. She hadn’t come close to paying the debt.

When she became a doctor, she’d keep her father’s legacy alive in this town, long after he couldn’t care for his patients.

True, going to school and studying, taking care of her sons wouldn’t be easy, but she could and would manage it all, as soon as her father had help in the practice. She’d prayed for God to send a doctor. Surely one of the two remaining applicants would be His answer.

Finished with the cleaning, she strolled into the office and peered out the back window. The boys and her father had made progress but still had work to do. She might as well catch up with the accounts. Her work at home could wait another day.

She sat at her desk and delved into the sorry state of her father’s books. He rarely collected cash. Now Luke Jacobs picked her father’s pockets. As she recorded the payment of a bushel of apples, her hand shook and ink splotched the page. If only that man would leave town.

Right then, outside the window, Luke Jacobs strode past. Slowly, trying not to alert Ben, she rose and inched closer. At the sign alongside the path leading to her father’s office, he paused, reading Henry Lawrence, M.D. Then he glanced toward the entrance. Mary caught her breath, held it, her body unbending as steel, ready to spring into action to shield Ben. A second later, he moved on.

Mary sagged against the frame. Could he be looking for her home? Hoping to find Ben? Or merely searching for another place to sell his remedy?

Either way, Mary had a sinking feeling that he’d be back.