Blessed are the Merciful Page 11

  The day had been clear until midafternoon, then dark clouds blew in from the west. When Adam left his apartment, he glanced at the clouds and thought about putting the top up on his buggy, then decided he would be home before any rain fell.

  Adam turned into the Conrads’ circle drive and saw a crew of men putting down a new layer of gravel. He drove the buggy around behind the mansion and parked it near the back porch. He hurried back to the front of the house and bounded up the porch, greeting the men spreading the gravel.

  Millicent was in the hall when Delmar let Adam in. She came toward him, saying, “Philipa’s up in her room getting ready to go to the fashion show, Adam.”

  “I know she’s leaving at six. I need to talk to her, so I came early enough to have a few minutes with her.”

  “Is she expecting you?”

  “No, ma’am. But it’s very important.”

  “Then I’ll go up and tell her you’re here.”

  Philipa’s bedroom was the picture of femininity and substance. A large cherry four-poster bed sat between two huge bay windows, each with its own window seat. The bed was covered with a blue crocheted spread and white lace overlay. The windows were hung with gauzy white curtains and blue silk draperies. The wide window seats were covered with the same shade of blue in an intricate brocade pattern, and an abundance of small blue-and-white pillows were strewn across each seat.

  Philipa stood before a full-length mirror framed with gold inlay. She studied her reflection and was pleased with what she saw. She plucked at the curls that dangled on her forehead, trying to give them a little more life.

  Millicent knocked and stepped inside. “Adam is here to see you, dear.”

  “Adam? I wasn’t expecting him.”

  “I know. He said he needs a few minutes alone with you, and that it’s very important.”

  Philipa sighed. “All right. I’m not quite ready to put in an appearance. Tell him I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  Philipa had a determined look in her eyes as she left her room and headed down the hall. When she reached the staircase, she saw Adam waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. Halfway down the stairs, she said, “I had no idea I would see you today, Adam. I’m surprised you’re not in court or at your office.”

  “This wasn’t a court day. I decided to take part of the afternoon off.”

  As she reached the bottom step, Adam said, “I like your hair styled that way. You should wear it that way more often.”

  “Thank you. Mother said you wanted to talk to me in private.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “All right.” She glanced through the windows at the side of the staircase. “Doesn’t look like it’s raining yet. Let’s go out on the back porch.”

  When Adam and Philipa stepped out on the back porch, the sky was black with clouds and the wind was blowing, but the way the chairs were recessed into a cove, the wind barely touched them. The smell of rain permeated the air. Adam seated Philipa, then sat down facing her.

  “Well,” she said, “what did you want to talk about, darling?”

  “I need to coordinate our arrival in North Platte with Mr. Dauntt, honey. I wired him a few days ago and he wired me right back. There’s still no law office in the town. The door is wide open for me to become North Platte’s only lawyer, but we dare not wait any longer than necessary. We need to agree on a date of departure from Philadelphia as soon after the wedding as possible.”

  Philipa began to fidget with her engagement ring, turning it round and round on her finger. “Adam, I’m really hoping Daddy will make you a partnership offer soon.”

  “But I’m not interested in a partnership with your father. I want to build my own firm. And it seems to me that if a woman loves her man she will follow him to the ends of the earth if necessary.”

  “Oh? Well, it seems to me that if a man loves his woman he won’t make her leave her family and friends to go where she’d be bored stiff!”

  “Look, it’s my job as a husband to provide for my wife. You’ve got to let me do it my way.”

  “Your way is stupid. You’ve got to get this fool notion out of your head.”

  Adam’s cheeks turned red. “Fool notion? Just because I want to get out of the big city and cut out a career in the West doesn’t mean it’s stupid! If that’s the case, there are a lot of stupid people moving west to find a better life!”

  Philipa shrugged. “You said it; I didn’t.”

  Lightning slashed the dark sky, and thunder shook the porch.

  “A person only gets one time to live his life on this earth, and I want to realize my dream.”

  “Well, go ahead! Realize your dream! But you’ll do it without me. I’m telling you right now, Mr. Adam Burke, I’m not leaving my family, my friends, and my social life for some … some stinking backwoods cow town. That’s no dream, it’s a nightmare!”

  MULTIPLE BOLTS OF LIGHTNING SHOT ACROSS the dark sky as a buggy pulled into the Mason driveway at precisely 4:45. The resounding thunder rattled the buggy Rachel Mason rode in with Sylvia Coffman and Sylvia’s fiancé, Leon Dressler, who had driven downtown to pick them up and now was delivering Rachel to her home.

  The wind whipped the trees along the driveway and in the yard as the buggy rolled up to the front porch. Rain noisily peppered the buggy’s top.

  Leon jumped out and hurried around to the other side. “I’ll help you carry your packages in, Rachel,” he said, then helped her out of the buggy. They carried her packages onto the porch, bending their heads against the wind and rain.

  “Bye, Rachel!” Sylvia called from the shelter of the buggy. “Thanks for going with me!”

  “I enjoyed it!” Rachel shouted back.

  She laid her packages on a marble decorative table beside the front door and reached into her purse for the key. Leon banged the door knocker.

  “Won’t do any good, Leon,” Rachel said. “Cecil has gone after my mother by now.”

  She turned the key in the lock and Leon followed her inside with an armload of packages. He laid them on a bench in the vestibule and went back for the rest of them. When he had brought the packages inside, Rachel thanked him and said good-bye. She brushed rainwater from her face and clothing, then headed for the kitchen to start supper.

  Rachel lit a lantern in the kitchen and began taking food and supplies from the pantry. She carried these to the cupboard and looked out the kitchen’s rear window. Lightning flashed, and she noticed the buggy under the lean-to shelter beside the barn. She couldn’t see the barn door from the window but she could hear it banging in the wind.

  Rachel went out the back door onto the porch and paused at the steps. “Cecil!” she called toward the barn. “Cecil!”

  Suddenly Rachel saw a dark form lying on the ground near the barn door. She dashed off the porch and knelt beside the elderly gardener. By the light of another lightning flash she could see that his face was blue.

  A tiny whimper escaped her lips as she took hold of his arms and began pulling him toward the house. She struggled to get him up the steps and out of the rain. She saw lantern light in the kitchen window of the house next door and hurried in that direction.

  Just then, Joseph Mason drove his buggy around the back of the house and saw his daughter waving and calling to him, her clothing soaked and her hair matted to her head.

  “What’s wrong?” he shouted, pulling rein.

  “It’s Cecil! I found him lying on the ground at the barn door. I think it’s his heart. I have him on the porch.”

  “We’ll have to get him to the hospital. What about your mother?”

  “Cecil was supposed to pick her up. She’s still at Krantzes.”

  “No time to go get her now. Get in the buggy, honey! We’ll take Cecil to the hospital, then go after your mother.”

  Teatime at the Krantz house had ended at five as buggies and carriages began arriving to pick up the ladies. Myron the butler was preparing one of the Krantz buggies to take some of the older l
adies to their homes.

  “Would you like to go with Myron, honey?” Doris said to Nancy. “He’d be more than happy to take you home.”

  “Thank you, Doris, but I’m sure Cecil will be here any minute.”

  The Krantz buggy was the last to pull away, leaving Doris and Nancy alone. They sat in the drawing room at the front of the house and watched for Cecil. When 5:15 came, Nancy said, “I think something has detained Cecil. I really need to be getting home. Would you have a raincoat I could borrow? I’ll just walk.”

  “Walk? It’s raining cats and dogs out there!”

  “I’ll be all right if you have a raincoat you can let me use.”

  “Of course I do, but I really don’t want you to go out in this storm. Why don’t you wait till Myron gets back? He can take you home.”

  “No telling when he might get back. I really should be going.”

  “Oh, dear. Edgar is working late at the office this evening. He won’t be home till after seven. I hate to see you walk, Nancy.”

  “It’s just a couple of blocks. I’ll be fine.”

  “Well, all right. If you insist. The raincoat is in the foyer closet.”

  They walked up to the foyer.

  “I feel so terrible, Nancy,” Doris said while helping her into the raincoat. “I wish there was a way I could get you a ride home.”

  “No need to fret. I’ll be home in no time. Thanks for the use of the coat. I’ll get it back to you soon as I can.”

  As they walked toward the door, Doris said, “The way it’s storming out there, you’re going to get wet in spite of the raincoat.”

  Nancy patted Doris’s arm. “Even if I get a little wet it’ll be worth it. I’m so glad we were able to raise so much money today. And the plans we’ve made will bring in a whole lot more. Well, here I go. Bye-bye now.”

  Doris opened the door and Nancy pulled the hood up over her head. They embraced, and Nancy stepped out into the storm. She hurried toward the street with darkness closing in on her.

  “So that’s it, Philipa? No matter what, you won’t leave here to go with me?”

  “No, I will not!”

  “Well, you’re not made of what Mrs. Welles is, are you? She didn’t balk when her husband told her he wanted to go to Grand Island and become a partner with his old friend. She had to leave the fancy life in Boston to do it, but she loves her husband enough to follow him.”

  “Don’t judge me by somebody else!” Philipa said. Only her anger kept her from breaking into tears.

  “Well, I guess that settles it then. I’m going to North Platte!” Adam stomped off the porch and headed toward his buggy. The horse stood with its head bent against the wind and rain.

  “Adam, stop!” Philipa screamed. “Come back here and talk to me!”

  He paused and looked back over his shoulder. “If you won’t go with me to Nebraska, there’s nothing to talk about.” He moved on toward the buggy.

  “Adam!”

  Once more he stopped and looked back.

  Philipa’s hair was wet and hanging in her face. “If you leave now, Adam, it’s all over. Do you hear me?”

  “I hear you. And I’m leaving.”

  “Don’t ever come back! I never want to see you again!”

  He lifted a foot to climb aboard his buggy.

  Philipa pulled off her engagement ring and threw it at him. It landed in the mud at his feet. Adam gave her a look of disgust and ground the ring into the mud with his foot.

  “I hate you!” Philipa screamed.

  Adam climbed into his buggy. Philipa was still screaming as he drove around the corner and trotted the horse down the long driveway to the street.

  Adam Burke had been this angry only once before in his life—the day he found out his father had deserted his mother. When he reached the street, he snapped the reins and put the horse to a gallop.

  Nancy Mason was only a block from the Krantz house when the storm grew worse. The rain came down harder and the wind lashed at her ruthlessly. She bent her head against the onslaught and hurried on, clutching the hood close to her neck and lifting her skirts out of the damp.

  She came to Washington Avenue and looked both ways before hurrying across. The street lamps along the way had not been lit, and she stumbled when she reached the sidewalk on the other side.

  She paused a moment at the intersection of Oak Street and Franklin Avenue, less than a half-block from her home, as a massive lightning bolt slashed the dark clouds. Then she stepped off the sidewalk into the street just as a long roll of thunder roared in her ears.

  Adam Burke raced his fishtailing buggy down Franklin Avenue, the fierce wind driving the rain into his face. A massive lightning bolt slashed the dark clouds overhead as he neared the intersection at Oak Street. Thunder boomed, and Adam felt his rain-blinded horse jerk to one side, followed by a thump as the buggy wheel on the right side seemed to roll over something.

  In his anger, Adam paid little attention to what was going on around him. He raced on down Franklin, snapping the reins to make the horse go faster.

  Nancy Mason lay half-conscious in the mud. The pain in her head was excruciating. Where was she? She tried to move her arms and legs, but couldn’t. She recalled lifting her skirts and stepping into the street. She remembered turning her head toward a sudden sound. The next thing she remembered she was lying in the mud. Her head hurt terribly. Why couldn’t she move her arms and legs?

  “Help me! Somebody help me!”

  There was nothing but wind, rain, and thunder to answer her.

  She cried out again, but her voice was so weak she knew it wasn’t carrying far. She gingerly tried to raise her head to look around, but the blinding pain stopped her.

  After a few minutes she was able to move her right arm, then her left. With the same effort she soon was able to move both legs. But when she tried to get up, agonizing pain shot through her body.

  “Oh, dear God!” she moaned weakly. “Send someone to help me!” She gathered what little strength she had and called out, “Joseph! Rachel! I … I need you! Help me!”

  She felt herself sinking into blackness. Just before she lost consciousness she heard voices, and her dull eyes caught a glimpse of lantern light coming toward her.

  Rachel Mason slumped in the chair, her hair and clothing soaked, and watched her father pace back and forth in the hospital waiting room. The doctors had told them Cecil’s condition was critical. It was his heart. They couldn’t say more until they had done a thorough examination.

  “It’s my fault, Rachel,” said Joseph, running fingers through his hair.

  “Daddy, how could it be your fault?”

  “He’s been complaining of chest pains for weeks. When I offered to take him to the doctor he said he’d had the pains before but they always passed. I should’ve put him in a buggy and taken him to the hospital right then.”

  “But you can’t blame yourself, Daddy. It wasn’t your responsibility to force Cecil to go to a doctor.”

  Joseph began pacing again. “Maybe I’ve been working him too hard.”

  “No, he has plenty of time to rest between his little jobs. Daddy, you mustn’t blame yourself for this.”

  Joseph paced silently for a few minutes, then stopped and said, “He’s just got to pull through. Cecil’s … well, he’s not only our gardener and handyman, he’s one of the family. He’s been with us a long time.”

  “Yes, before I was born. He’s family as far as I’m concerned, Daddy.”

  Joseph’s hands were shaking. “I need a good stiff drink.”

  Rachel jumped off the chair and looked him square in the eye. “Don’t say that, Daddy! You haven’t had a drink in three years. Certainly you don’t want to go back to the bottle. You almost lost your business because of alcohol. Please, don’t even mention drinking again!”

  Joseph ran a shaky hand over his face. “I’m sorry, honey. I just … I still get a craving when I’m upset. I’ll be all right if Cecil makes it.”
r />   “And if he doesn’t?”

  “Well, I—”

  “Daddy, what did whiskey ever do for you? Sure, when you got drunk you forgot your troubles for a few hours. But when you sobered up your troubles were still there. And you had a hangover to boot. Don’t take yourself and Mama and me back to that horror. Please!”

  “I’m sorry, Rachel,” said Joseph, taking her in his arms. “I shouldn’t have said it. I won’t turn back to the bottle, even if Cecil should die.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise. We should’ve left a note for your mother. I’m sure Doris has provided a ride home for her by now.”

  “Mm-hmm. Mama has to be worried about Cecil. She won’t know what to think if she finds the other buggy in its place but no Cecil.”

  “And us gone, too. I should’ve taken the time to leave a note.”

  “You couldn’t, Daddy. We had to get Cecil to the hospital as fast as possible. Maybe for Mama’s sake you ought to go home and let her know what’s happened. I can stay here.”

  “I’ll bring her right back with me. At least one of us will be here in case one of the doctors comes out to give us any news.”

  Even as Joseph was speaking, the door opened and Dr. Donald Walker, who had been the last to talk to Joseph and Rachel, came in.

  “From what we can tell, Mr. Mason,” Walker said, “Mr. McIntire is going to be all right.”

  Joseph closed his eyes in relief. “Oh, thank God!”

  “I won’t go into detail now, but we’ve got him past the crisis. It’s his heart, yes, but he has quite a constitution and there’s every indication that he’ll pull through this. It really wasn’t what we call a coronary seizure, which at his age might have taken him instantly. But it was serious enough that we’ll keep him here for at least a week and watch him closely.”

  “I’m just so glad it wasn’t any worse. Thank you, Doctor.”

  Walker smiled. “I love it when I can give good news. You two can go on home now. Come back tomorrow afternoon. Mr. McIntire will be able to talk to you then, I’m sure.”