Ginny Aiken (35 page)

After a time, a knock pulled Eric from the woman and child. He prayed no one had gone into labor. His breath gusted out in relief when he found Mayor Osgood and Pastor Stone at the door. Mrs. Stone sat in the carriage tied at the hitching post.

“We came to inquire after the boy,” the mayor said.

“He’s bad,” Eric answered, his voice low and rough. “But Le—Dr. Morgan is working on him. I don’t know.”

As the men followed him inside, he heard Mrs. Stone get out of the carriage. He gestured the men toward the waiting room, then held the door for the pastor’s wife.

“How is he?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Only God knows. Letty’s fighting for him with everything she has.”

The mayor spoke. “May we see him or speak to her?”

Eric shook his head, but then he remembered that despite her preoccupation with Steven, Letty wouldn’t appreciate his overstepping his bounds. “Let me ask.”

After a whispered consultation, Letty left the examining room, glancing back at the unconscious child with every step. Tiny vertical lines marred the smoothness of her forehead just above her nose, and she’d pressed her lips tight, the pressure turning the edges white.

“How is he, my dear?” Pastor Stone asked, giving Letty a fatherly hug.

She trembled. “I can’t say for certain. So much of him is burnt that he should by all rights be dead. If he makes it through the night, it’ll only be by the grace of our Lord.”

“Well, then,” the reverend answered, “we should head home and pray for just that.” He turned. “Come along, Mrs. Stone.
We’ll do more good on our knees than filling Letitia’s waiting room.”

On their way out, Mrs. Stone glanced at the small body on the table. She gasped, averting her eyes, tears wetting her face. The last Eric saw of her, she stumbled down the walkway, shaking her head.

Mayor Osgood turned to Eric, accusation in his gaze. “What led to this, Mr. Wagner? Did you leave those imps unattended while you waltzed?”

Eric gritted his teeth. “I don’t know what led to the accident. I felt it more important to bring the boy here so he could receive the best care possible than to ask questions. As far as your second question goes, I hired Anna Sauder to watch them this evening. She was to bring them to town for the fireworks display. I would never leave children unattended. I’ll learn what happened, though. You can count on that.”

The mayor tugged on his lapels and shot Eric another fierce glare. “I don’t see why we can’t dispatch them to the Shakers in Cleveland and get on with our lives. Hartville can’t be responsible for those brats.”

“They are not brats!” Letty’s vehemence stunned both men. “And as for sending them away, you just try it, gentlemen. I’d rather die than see them shipped out like raw ore or cattle.”

Eric smiled. “I second the doctor’s sentiments, Your Honor. Now, due to Steven’s precarious condition, I urge you to return to your duties so that Dr. Morgan and I can carry out ours.”

The mayor turned scarlet. He opened his mouth, but before anything came out, Caroline called from outside. “Dr. Miss! Is Steven with ya?”

“Come in, dear,” Letty said. “I’m afraid he is. What happened tonight?”

“Miz Sauder took us to see the show. By’n by, the crowd pushed in, and Steven weren’t no longer there. We been looking and looking, but there ain’t no sign of him nowheres.”

Eric gritted his teeth. Visitors by the trainload had bloated Hartville for the Silver Celebration, too many for the town to handle. The change in fortune had first brought sordid success to East Crawford Street, and now it could claim an innocent life.

“Too much too soon, Mayor, wouldn’t you agree?” he asked.

“Don’t start in on me again, Eric Wagner. I know what you think of Hartville’s progress, but this is a separate matter altogether. You can’t deny the benefits of the boom. The town nearly died sixteen years ago when yours and a few other families couldn’t do more than scrabble a tough living with your stock. Tonight’s accident is a separate matter altogether.”

“I don’t see how anyone can be so blind to the effects of greed.” Eric congratulated himself on his even tone of voice.

The mayor now turned purple. “We can discuss this at a later time. As you said, I must return to my duties. Besides, as Dr. Morgan said, the kid probably won’t make it through the night. It’s just as well, too, I—”

“Aaah . . . !” Caroline flew at the mayor.

Eric silently praised her as he disengaged her fists from Osgood’s gray hair, and if he read the look on Letty’s face right, she agreed.

Letty went to the front and opened the door. “Kindly remove yourself from my home, Mayor Osgood. I’ll consider it an honor and a privilege to help your opponent in the next election.”

The mayor straightened his coat on his way out.

Caroline burst into tears, her sobs filling the air. Eric reached her first. He wrapped his arms around her and began to rock the two of them. “Come, come,
liebchen,
” he said, patting the girl’s heaving back. “You shouldn’t listen to him.”

Caroline’s blue eyes met his. She muttered an oath.

“Caroline!” Letty cried. “Don’t ever lower yourself to his filthy level. Why don’t you go home with Mr. Wagner, dear? I’ll take care of Steven. Believe me, I’ll do everything possible for him through the night.”

Eric took note of Letty’s cautious words and recognized the gravity of the situation. “Where are the others?” he asked the girl.

“Miz Sauder took ’em home. She said I’s to find Steven.”

“Let’s go, then.” Eric turned to Letty and read fear in her gaze. “I’ll come right back.”

“No need,” she said.

With a nod, he left, taking Caroline’s cold hand in his, and headed toward Amos’s livery.

“What’s the matter, Mr. Wagner, sir?” Amos asked when he answered the knock.

Eric sent Caroline with the stable boy to fetch the rig, and as soon as she was out of earshot, he turned to his friend. “It seems I’ve done it again. I failed one more soul who depended on me.”

Amos shook his head. “Don’t tell me that, Eric. Yo’re the most dependable man I seen in my days.”

Bitter laughter roughened Eric’s throat. “I fake it well, Amos.”

“Cain’t much fake honor an’ decency. I seen enough of the other to know.”

Eric’s grip on his temper slid into oblivion. “You know I killed my wife and unborn child as if I’d used my own hands. I failed them when they needed me most.” He ran his hands through his hair, then smoothed his mustache with his thumb and forefinger. “Then when I brought a lady doctor to town, I failed to protect her, too.”

In his frustration, Eric walked away and gripped the porch balustrade. “Now the Pattersons. I tried to take care of them after their mother died.” He shot his friend a glare. “See how well I did? They lost everything and became orphans in the bargain.”

Shoving his hands into his trouser pockets, Eric stared down the street. All he saw were the condemning lanterns mocking him with the fire that had burned Steven.

“I left the children with Anna Sauder tonight, thinking she
could bring them to the fireworks. The streets grew crowded, Steven became separated from the others, someone pushed him into a lantern pole, and now he’s hanging on to life by mere hope.”

“Son,” Amos said in his rich voice, “you gotta learn yourself somethin’. Somethin’ I learned durin’ the war. When I was made to watch them white men rape and kill my mother and sister, I cried. I told myself I was worthless. I done nothin’ to stop them animals.”

Eric recognized Amos’s pain, but he had no words, no comfort for the man.

“Yessir, Eric, I couldn’t do nothin’. See, I was tied to a tree while another of them whupped me.” A lone drop glistened silver against Amos’s earth-brown cheek. He stared at Eric, unashamed of his tears. “You listen here, son. Pastor Stone done told me this, and he told it good. The good Lord forgives, and so you gotta do it, too. ‘Forgive, and y’all be forgiven,’ the Good Book says. Forgive yourself. If you don’t, Pastor says you as good as call God a liar. I ain’t no fool, man. I don’t call Him nothin’ but Master.”

Eric smiled at Amos’s humble delivery of Scripture. “I’ll think on it, Amos.”

“Do that. And get yourself back to that purty lady doctor. That’s where you belongs.”

Eric waved at Amos, unwilling to respond, as he wasn’t certain he could accept what the former slave had said. But on the way to the ranch, as Caroline dozed, his mind gnawed on Amos’s words.

He remembered Pastor Stone’s many sermons on forgiveness. And he knew the basis of the gospel of Christ. But was it really so? Could it be so simple as to accept Jesus’ passion and death on the cross as atonement for his own sin? For the weakness that had led to two deaths?

Ever since Letty came to town, Eric had witnessed her strength and envied it. He’d admired her decisiveness, her certainty in her
convictions. Now he wondered. Had she been strong, decisive, certain of herself or, rather, of the One she served?

After all, each time they’d argued, she’d made clear her actions came as a response to God’s call on her life.

Just what had God called him to do? And had he been too mired in his guilt and self-recrimination to hear that call? Might he not be the failure he felt himself to be? Was there really hope even for him?

Could he still claim the hope he’d once learned was in Christ?

Once home, he dropped off his charge and asked Mrs. Sauder to elaborate on the events that had led to Steven’s accident. Eric learned nothing more than what he already knew. Steven had been pushed away from her side by a large group of visitors. The crowd had apparently carried him along, and the boy had inadvertently been pushed into the lantern’s post. The lantern fell, and he’d seen the results.

Minutes after arriving home with Caroline, Eric was back on his way to Letty’s home. Again his mind returned to what Amos had said. Could it be as simple as that? Could he take God at His word and accept Jesus’ atonement in his stead? Could God forgive him? Could he forgive himself and then get on with his life?

But how did a man truly forgive himself for repeated failure?

Looking up, he realized he’d arrived. Despite his gloomy thoughts, a pull deep inside drove him forward. Eric knew that once in Letty’s presence, his pain would feel less sharp. He ran up the walk and onto her front stoop as if a throng of demons were behind him.

“Eric?” Letty called when he opened the door without knocking.

“Of course.”

She emerged from the examining room, wiping her hands on a white towel. “I told you there was no need for you to return.”

“I know. I heard you. There was a need. There’s no reason for you to go through this alone. I want to be here with you.”

“For Steven’s sake.”

About to correct her, he thought better of it. “For Steven’s sake.”

Letty returned to her patient’s side, not sparing so much as another look in Eric’s direction. Fine. He didn’t need her to chat with him. He just needed to be here for her, for himself. Perhaps it was time he spoke with God again.

He strode into the waiting room, picked up a chair, and brought it into the clinic. There he stopped her objection with a glower. “Not a word. I’m here, and here I’m staying.”

He made himself as comfortable as possible, considering his long frame and the nature of the discarded dining-suite chair. He propped his left ankle on his right knee, set to watch the good doctor work.

After a bit, she said, “Since you’re still there, could you please hand me the jar of Cantharis? I must dose Steven again.”

He obliged then sat back as she dissolved three medicated balls and spooned the liquid into Steven’s slack mouth.

Each of her gestures was as familiar as her sweet face. The way she cocked her head to consider something, her movements light and very much like those of a bird. The way she used her hands, skillfully, economically. The straight line of her spine lent a spare quality to her steps. This woman wasted no time on mincing steps or swaying hips. No, Letitia Morgan was innately feminine and always straightforward.

Despite the trouble brought down upon her by the more ignorant residents of the town, Letty was a success unto herself. Whereas he—

No, he wouldn’t go into that again. Not when he had other matters to contemplate. Like the curls that escaped her elegant coiffure to trail at the nape of her slender neck. And the way the blue of her gown showed off the cream of her skin.

He smiled at the irony. He’d finally realized how desperately he needed her, and at nearly the same moment, an oversight on
his part had led to Steven’s accident. He should never have gone to the ball. He should have stayed with the children and Mrs. Sauder, bringing them to the fireworks himself.

Again, because he’d failed to act as he should, a child could lose his life. A child he’d come to love. If only he had the right—

“I want to thank you for what you did tonight,” Letty said, breaking into his thoughts. “You were magnificent.”

Eric looked up without a clue as to what he’d done.

“You may have saved his life. Fear held me back, and Steven might have died waiting for me to remember that God’s love casts out all fear. Even if I’d reached him, I was so shaken that I might have done him more harm than good. And probably injured myself at the same time. What you did was heroic.”

Fighting his urge to refute her words, Eric nodded, accepting her gratitude. But . . . heroic?

He watched her straight back as she checked Steven’s pulse, the child still tenacious in his grip on life.

“No change,” she murmured for his benefit.

Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back. He hadn’t been heroic. He’d simply done what needed to be done. He’d put out the fire burning Steven’s garments and kept Letty from hurting herself. Was practicality heroic?

He opened his eyes and caught the gleam of the lamp near the examining table. It burned steadily, comfortably, giving off its clear light, illuminating the room. It could burn and savage, too.

The lamplight seemed to Eric very much like love. It gave light but could just as easily char everything to stark darkness. Such was love; love gave life and just as easily crushed the life it gave. At least his did.