Love's First Bloom (36 page)

“I don’t want to argue with you, Jake. A successful newspaper meets the public demand or it folds, which is precisely what would have happened if I hadn’t saved it two years ago,” Clifford said, his words laced more with anger than disappointment. “I need to print the story I asked you to write about Ruth Livingstone. Beyond that, it’s entirely up to you. Stay and help me continue to build the
Galaxy
, or go. I’ve got any number of investors ready to buy out your share of the paper. But if you decide to stay, be prepared to loosen up those principles of yours. They’re far too rigid for you to be successful in this business.”

Jake swallowed hard. Completely disillusioned by the divide that existed between them, which was based more on principles of faith than the principles men had built upon them, he stepped through and beyond his brother’s shadow for the first time in his life to stand alone, beneath the shadow of his Creator. “I don’t want to argue, either. I’ve written an article about Ruth Livingstone that I’d like you to print. In return, I’ll sign whatever documents are necessary to give you full title to the newspaper, which will also assign my original investment to you.”

Clifford shook his head. “While your offer sounds generous, I doubt very much I’ll be interested in what you wrote. Maybe it’s best if you just leave and think my offer over.”

“I don’t need to think it over. I know exactly what I want. Will you at least read the article before you reject my offer?”

Clifford sighed. “Give me a few days. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I do. Let me show you the article,” Jake offered, praying God would intervene and soften his brother’s heart.

When he left the office two hours later, he found Capt. Grant waiting for him in the oyster bar down the street, just as he had promised.

“Well?”

“He’s agreed to
consider
printing my article,” Jake replied.

The older man nodded. “Then there’s hope yet. I hope you’re as hungry as I am,” he said when the waiter suddenly appeared with a tray of food that would feed half the captain’s crew.

Jake leaned forward and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Now will you tell me how you got so involved in Reverend Livingstone’s network?” he asked, anxious for the captain to keep his promise and explain the mystery of the role he had been playing.

Grant smiled. “Later. After we eat and we’re back on board again. And after you tell me what you’re going to do to win that young woman’s favor. But there is one thing I can tell you now.” He placed half a dozen boiled oysters onto his plate.

Jake leaned closer still.

“It’s not Reverend Livingstone’s network,” Capt. Grant whispered. “It’s always been mine, and I have great hope that you’ll join us.”

Thirty-Eight

For two straight days, Ruth only left Lily’s bedside for a few brief periods—to make certain Phanaby was still regaining her strength and good health, or to prepare a meal. But there was never a single beat of her heart that did not contain a prayer for God to spare Lily.

By the time the sun rose on Sunday, the third full day of Lily’s illness, Phanaby was well enough to resume her household duties again, although she felt incredibly guilty that her illness had spread to the little girl she loved as her own. Ruth was free to devote every moment, day and night, to her niece.

In addition to her prayers, she even tried to bargain with Him, offering to exchange her life for Lily’s. She thought about offering the life of the man who had betrayed her instead, but thought God would find the idea too self-serving.

Although Dr. Woodward had refused to bleed Lily because of her tender age, he had prescribed nearly the same remedy for her as he had for Phanaby. Ruth had bathed Lily’s fevered body several times a day with cloths dipped in the same white willow bark tea, which she diluted and sweetened with honey to entice the babe to drink more. She had rocked Lily in her arms and walked her and swayed with her when she was too exhausted to take a step. Whenever Lily did sleep, albeit fitfully, Ruth had lain by Lily’s side in the lower bed, cradling her in her arms.

On Monday, Lily finally fell asleep at noon. Ruth’s fears for Lily had distanced her from the shock and horror of Jake’s betrayal. All that remained now was a deep anguish and more heartbreak.

She still found it difficult to accept that Jake Spencer, the tenderhearted man she had come to love, and Asher Tripp, the villainous reporter, were one and the same man. But Ruth decided not to share this truth with Phanaby and Elias unless it became absolutely necessary.

Unsure of how much time she would have before Lily awakened, Ruth was anxious to freshen up a bit in the hope she might feel slightly human again if she did. Although she was tempted to open the window for some fresh air, she was afraid the draft might be harmful to Lily, so she tiptoed across the room to the chest of drawers instead. After slipping out of the clothes she had worn for the past twenty-four hours, she washed up and changed into the clean gown Phanaby had laundered and set out for her.

“Bless you, Phanaby. You even remembered a new ribbon for my hair,” she whispered and tied a clean apron at her waist. She left the room just long enough to carry the soiled clothing to the back of the hallway. When she found Lily was still sleeping, she went to the kitchen and indulged herself with a rather thick slice of bread slathered with molasses.

Once she finished, she returned to the bedroom, removed the tired ribbon she had worn to keep her hair pulled away from her face, set it aside, and started brushing her hair. The small cut on her finger from the broken glass had nearly healed. Not so the wounds to her heart. She brushed harder and harder, unable to bear the thought of the hateful lies that would soon be in the newspaper, if indeed they had not already been put to print. Lies that would vilify her father’s name. Lies that would shame Lily’s name. And lies that would make it nearly impossible for Ruth to challenge them without revealing the truth—a truth that would still shame Lily’s name.

The sharp rap at her bedroom window startled her so badly she yelped. With her heart pounding, she whirled around and saw Mr. Toby standing on a ladder and staring at her through the cracked glass, motioning for her to open the window. Directly over his head, a blanket of storm clouds darkened the horizon. She hoped that Elias, who had left early that morning for Forked River, had not run into bad weather.

Groaning, she remembered too late that Elias had told her that he had arranged for Mr. Toby to come over this afternoon to replace the glass in the windowpane. Otherwise she would have put Lily to bed in the couple’s bedroom, which would have given her an opportunity to change the bed linens, too.

Grateful Mr. Toby had not appeared half an hour earlier when she had been changing, she pressed her finger to her lips and rushed over to the window. She opened it just wide enough that he would be able to hear her. “I’m so sorry. I forgot you were coming this afternoon,” she whispered and pointed to the bed on the opposite wall. “Lily’s sleeping right over there.”

“Still sick, is she?” he asked and craned his neck to look past Ruth.

Ruth nodded. “Would you mind so terribly if I asked you to come back later today?”

He rolled his eyes. “You mighta poked your head outside and said somethin’ earlier, say, when you heard me set the ladder against the buildin’.”

She cringed. “I’m sorry. I must have been in the kitchen then. I’m just afraid you’ll wake her up, and I’m not sure it’s a good idea to have the window open, either. Her fever’s already so high, and with the draft that will blow in …”

“There’s a storm brewin’. I’ll come back tomorrow morning. Just open the window a little wider so I don’t have to carry these back down with me.” He lifted a hand from the side of the ladder and held up his fist.

Ruth nudged the window up higher. When he handed her a handful of seashells, instead of some sort of tool or whatnot he was going to use to remove the cracked pane of glass, she furrowed her brow.

“I found those on the ground right below the window. From the looks of things, somebody needed a good arm to toss these shells up to your window on the second floor and break the glass.”

Ruth shoved the shells into her apron pocket and frowned. She did not know how strong Jake’s arm was, but she had seen the slingshot he had been holding the night he had cracked the window and ended up breaking her heart. She also suspected he had gotten those seashells from Capt. Grant, since they looked very much like the two seashells he had given to her and Lily.

“Can’t imagine anyone hereabouts who’d risk annoying the Broom Lady,” he teased, “but Avery’s got somebody new workin’ at the livery. Mighta been him.”

“Ned! Ned must be working there now,” she gushed as Mr. Toby started down the ladder.

“That’s his name. Ned Clarke. He’s been workin’ there ’bout a week or two now. I’ll head on over and talk to him for you, if you want,” he offered, without stopping his descent.

“No. He didn’t crack the window. I’m certain of it,” she blurted. She could not let that boy take the blame for something Jake had done. She simply said the first thing that popped into her mind. “I’m afraid I’m the one who cracked the window … with a slingshot. I just haven’t told anyone.”

He stopped, looked up at her, and grinned. “You are one dangerous woman, Widow Malloy, which poor Maxwell Flynn found out too late—not that he didn’t deserve what you gave him.” He pointed his finger at her as if she were a child being scolded. “You might wanna reconsider things a bit so the next time you got a man like Jake thinkin’ about courtin’ you, he won’t hightail it outta here like Spencer did. I heard tell that Ned and his pa—”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind,” she quipped before the man could offer any more gossip as she shut the window, along with any hope he would keep his mouth shut about what she had told him.

She tiptoed over to the bed to reassure herself that all the commotion had not disturbed Lily, but fortunately, Lily was still sleeping peacefully. She went straight to the chest of drawers to put away the seashells Jake had shot at her window and sighed. The wooden chest was locked, and she had left the key in the soiled apron she had carried out into the hall.

Once she retrieved the key and had the seashells stored safely inside, she looped the new ribbon Phanaby had left for her hair through the key and tied it around her neck. “Much safer,” she whispered and tucked the ribbon and the key beneath the bodice of her gown. She gave her hair a final quick brush and bypassed using the frayed ribbon in favor of using her comb again. Yawning, she lay down on her bed to rest, just for a little while until Lily woke up, falling asleep as she prayed that God would help Elias find a proper place for her and Lily to make a new life for themselves.

Thirty-Nine

“Ruth! Wake up, Ruth!”

Ruth batted her eyes, but when she fully opened them, she had to blink several times to clear the sleep away. It took a moment before she recognized the face that came into focus. “Lily!” she croaked.

When she tried to turn to see if she had been sleeping too soundly to hear Lily wake up, Phanaby urged her out of the bed. “Lily’s still asleep. Elias is back with news. Wonderful news,” she whispered, her gaze teary.

Ruth rubbed her eyes, but the room still seemed awfully dim. “What time is it?”

“I think it’s finally time to rejoice,” Phanaby murmured. “Go on. I’ll stay with Lily. Elias is waiting in the kitchen to share the good news with you. You can have a bite of supper, too.”

Ruth shook her head to clear the daze she was in. “It’s time for supper? Already?”

Phanaby chuckled. “It’s seven o’clock and it’s time to rejoice,” she insisted and ushered Ruth out of the room and into the hall before she closed the door.

Ruth wandered down the hall. By the time she reached the kitchen, her mind, as well as her vision, was clear again. She found Elias standing next to the kitchen table, but she blinked hard the moment she saw the several newspapers spread out on the table.

Her mind raced from confusion straight past joy to fear— then back to confusion again when Elias greeted her with a broad smile. “Praise God, Ruth. He’s been cleared. Reverend Livingstone’s finally been cleared! Come. See for yourself. It’s true!” he exclaimed.