An Unexpected Love (41 page)

“From Michael?” It was as much as she could manage.

“Yes. There’s one for you, too. Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll fetch you a cup of tea. Or would you prefer something cool?”

“Nothing,” Fanny said, dropping into one of the wooden chairs. “He’s not injured?” She couldn’t bring herself to ask if he was dead. It seemed even to say the word might make it so.

Mrs. Atwell shook her head. “No, nothing like that. But there’s been trouble. Both Zeb and Sherman, Michael’s two partners, were injured in an accident. Michael wasn’t with them at the time.”

Fanny sighed, relief washing over her like a spring rain. “Zeb and Sherman will recover?”

“Yes, but they need Michael to stay on with them. They’re unable to make it out of the Yukon. If they’re to survive, they need his help.” Mrs. Atwell forced a smile. “Michael could never leave them.”

Fanny nodded. “I know,” she whispered, a tear beginning to form in the corner of her eye. “Did he say when . . .”

“Next summer, dear. His letter says there will be no way he can make it back before then.” The older woman handed a sealed envelope to her. “I’m sure your letter will say much the same as ours.”

No longer able to maintain her brave front, Fanny’s tears escaped and cascaded down her cheeks in tiny rivulets. “Each day I’ve been expecting to see him walk up that path, and now I must wait an entire year,” she sobbed.

Mrs. Atwell gathered her into a warm embrace and stroked her hair. “He is in God’s hands, Fanny. Michael is young and strong. I understand your disappointment, but the news could be much worse.” She lifted Fanny’s chin. “Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t ease my pain.”

“I know, but you’ll get through this, and once you and Michael are married, you’ll forget this disappointment.”

Fanny tucked the letter into her pocket. Mrs. Atwell’s words contained wisdom, but it didn’t ease her pain. She patted her pocket. “I’ll tell you if his letter contains any further information.”

Mrs. Atwell kissed her cheeks. “We’d appreciate that, dear.” The older woman glanced toward the stove. “I don’t want to rush you off, but I must begin the meal preparations. If you want to talk more, come see me after supper.”

Fanny pushed herself up from the table and trudged to the door.

“Fanny?”

She turned and looked over her shoulder.

“Don’t forget that prayer is the answer. Mr. Atwell and I will continue to pray for both you and Michael.”

“Thank you,” Fanny whispered. She would need someone else to pray for her right now, for she didn’t think God would want to hear what she had to say about this turn of events. She continued around the side of the house, wishing she hadn’t asked her cousins to wait for her.

Sophie swiveled around in her chair. “Did you receive a letter from Michael?”

She patted the pocket of her skirt. “He isn’t coming home until next summer.” After detailing the account, Fanny pulled a handkerchief from her pocket. “I don’t know how I will bear to wait another year.”

Sophie touched her hand. “I know this is difficult for you. I remember how I felt when I received Wesley’s letter. I wanted to die. You feel a hole right in the pit of your stomach.”

Fanny touched a hand to her stomach and nodded. “Yes. Right there.”

Amanda wagged her finger. “I’m sorry for both of you, but this is no time to sit and commiserate. This kind of talk only makes matters worse. You must focus upon happier thoughts.”

“Is that in the medical books, too?” Sophie asked.

“I’m certain it is,” Amanda said. “And if it isn’t, it should be. With me away at medical school in the fall, it’s good, Fanny, that you’ll be available to help Sophie. You can assist with the decorating of her house, and when the baby arrives in December, you can help Sophie during her confinement.”

“Confinement? I’m not going to be like those women who remain abed for weeks on end.”

Amanda waved her cousin into silence. “No matter. Once the baby is born, you’ll be glad for all of the assistance Fanny offers you. And, Fanny, you could even move in with Paul and Sophie. Then you’d have an opportunity to spoil the baby at every turn.”

Fanny wiped her eyes and tucked the handkerchief back into her pocket. With Sophie’s move into a new house and a baby due in the winter, perhaps she could use this time to advantage until Michael’s return.

27

Wednesday, August 31, 1898

The packing for their journey home now complete, the family gathered in the dining room for breakfast. Aunt Victoria had been in a flurry for several days. No doubt the servants would be happy to return to Rochester and settle back into their normal routine. And Mrs. Atwell would likely be even more delighted when the family stepped foot on the
DaisyBee
for the final time that season.

While Mrs. Atwell poured her a glass of orange juice, Sophie filled her plate with scrambled eggs, toast, and two slices of bacon. Turning toward the table, Sophie suddenly doubled over. Pain spread through her body like fiery splinters, and she stared wideeyed at Mrs. Atwell. The older woman encircled her waist and eased her into a chair as another pain seared through her belly. She bit down on her lip, and the salty taste of blood assaulted her tongue.

“What’s happening?” she asked, her fingers digging into Mrs. Atwell’s hand.

“I’m not certain, my dear, but I’m going to send Mr. Atwell to Clayton to fetch Dr. Balch right this minute. Let go of my hand and grab hold of Amanda.”

Amanda stepped forward, and the two women exchanged places. Jefferson bounded into the room and took a backward step at the sight of his cousin. Amanda waved him forward. “I need you to carry Sophie upstairs to her bedroom.”

Jefferson’s jaw went slack. “To the third floor? I don’t think—”

“No need to take her up there. Take her to the second-floor room Fanny and I share. Go get George to help you.” Amanda calmly called out orders as though she’d been overseeing medical emergencies all of her life.

Fanny knelt down in front of her cousin. “You’re going to be fine, Sophie. We’ll get you into bed, and you’ll be up and about in no time.”

Mrs. Atwell scurried back inside. “Mr. Atwell will be back with the doctor before you know it. Any more pains?”

Amanda shook her head. “We’re going to move her upstairs to bed. George and Jefferson will carry her. I don’t think she should walk.”

“Agreed.” Mrs. Atwell patted Sophie’s shoulder. “Try to breathe regularly, Sophie. Don’t hold your breath like that. You and the babe both need oxygen.”

“You seem to know a good deal about medicine yourself, Mrs. Atwell,” Amanda commented.

“I just listen to what the doctor has to say from time to time.” She glanced at the stairs. “Ah, here come your cousins to give you a ride up the stairs.”

While George and Jefferson discussed the proper method to carry Sophie, another pain attacked her midsection with a vengeance. Thankfully Amanda interceded and ordered Jefferson to carry her and George to follow in the rear should Jefferson require his assistance.

When her pain had subsided, Sophie frowned at George and Jefferson. “I don’t think I’m so heavy that you need to argue over which one of you will carry me.” She forced a weak smile, and her cousins joked about how much weight she had gained since becoming an old married woman.

Once she was in bed, the women rallied to her aid. When Dr. Balch arrived a short time later, he stopped in the doorway. “It looks like you’re hosting a social in here.” Holding his medical bag in front of him, the doctor pressed through the crowded room. “Someone take charge and clear this room. I need only one other person in here with me.” He pointed at Mrs. Atwell. “Maggie, you stay. The rest of you, out!”

The doctor conducted his examination and asked innumerable questions. Mrs. Atwell held Sophie’s hand, and each time a pain arrived, she mopped the young woman’s forehead with a handkerchief. When the doctor looked directly into Sophie’s eyes, she knew his message wouldn’t please her.

“From the look of things, you folks were planning to leave today. Right?”

Sophie nodded. “Yes. We’re going back to Rochester. My husband will arrive this afternoon, and he’ll be traveling with me.”

The doctor wagged his head. “If you want this baby to survive, you’ll be staying right where you are. You need complete bed rest, young lady.”

“For how long?” she asked.

“If I had to venture a guess, I’d say you’ll need to be on bed rest until you give birth. Not a happy prospect, I suppose, but at least you have no other children that need your attention.” He patted her hand. “This isn’t an uncommon occurrence, so don’t go blaming yourself. It’s nothing you’ve done wrong. Some women just seem to have more trouble than others.”

“Once I return to Rochester, I’ll go to bed and stay there,” she promised.

“You can’t make the trip back to Rochester. You’ll lose the child for sure if you try. Wiggle down into that bed and make yourself comfortable. We’ll hope and pray that the baby stays put until December.”

Mrs. Atwell ushered the others into the room, and Dr. Balch delivered the news. “She’ll need someone to stay with her, of course. Her husband?”

“I’m going to stay with her,” Fanny said, stepping forward. “Her husband must continue his work in Rochester, and I have an entire year I can devote to Sophie’s care.”

Aunt Victoria touched Fanny’s shoulder. “I’m not certain this is a good idea, Fanny. You two young women out here alone.”

“We won’t be alone. Mr. and Mrs. Atwell are as near as their apartment above the boathouse.” Fanny glanced at the older woman.

A tuft of Mrs. Atwell’s hair waved in the breeze as she nodded her head in agreement. “ ’Tis true that Frank and I would be available to help. If it would make you rest easier, Mrs. Broadmoor, Frank and I could come up here and stay during the night.”

Victoria tugged at her lace collar. “I believe I need to discuss this with Jonas. He’ll arrive shortly, and we’ll decide what must be done.”

“You may certainly discuss all you want, Mrs. Broadmoor, but this young woman is to remain in bed. Are my orders clear?”

Seeing Aunt Victoria’s frown was enough for Sophie to know the older woman was not at all pleased with the doctor. People, especially those being paid for their services, did not issue commands to Jonas Broadmoor’s wife.

Sophie was surprised her aunt permitted the gaffe, but she also ignored the doctor’s question.

Jonas rubbed his forehead and waved his wife from the room. Just once he’d like to relax without cares or worries like other members of the family. Since the moment he’d walked in the door, he’d heard nothing but troubles and complaints. Didn’t he already have enough to deal with by taking care of the financial problems of the family? The only good news he’d heard was the fact that Michael wouldn’t return until next year. He’d breathed a sigh of relief knowing he could maintain complete oversight of Fanny’s money for another year. At least he hoped he would. If Fanny should suddenly decide to take an interest in her estate or fund another house purchase, it could cause him financial disaster. He leaned back in his chair and pondered his options. Having her on the island until after Sophie’s child was born could prove beneficial. Fanny wouldn’t be nosing about asking questions he didn’t want to answer. Perhaps this wasn’t such bad news, after all.

When the family gathered for lunch a short time later, he announced his decision. Since Fanny didn’t respond, he raised his brows. “I thought you would thank me.”

“
Thank
you? I’m one-third owner of this island. I’m of legal age, and you continue to manage my financial assets through the guardianship and at my request. I don’t believe I need your permission to remain and care for my cousin. It was Aunt Victoria who expressed concern over your agreement, not me.”

Jonas cleared his throat and tugged on his necktie. “By law, you don’t need my permission, but I am the head of the family.”

“Since we all agree, I don’t think it’s a matter we need to dwell on,” Victoria said.

Jonas eyed his niece. It seemed Fanny had turned into quite the independent young woman since her birthday. He’d need to be more careful, but for now she’d be otherwise occupied. “That’s true, my dear. How is Sophie faring? No chance she’ll lose the baby, is there?”

Victoria passed a plate of sandwiches to her husband. “Who can say? Not even the doctor appeared certain.”

Jonas truly hoped Sophie wouldn’t lose the child. Not because he cared about Sophie or that whelp she carried. The girl was a disgrace to the Broadmoor name. But if she should miscarry, Sophie and Fanny would return to Rochester that much sooner. He swallowed a gulp of coffee. “You be certain you take good care of Sophie and force her to follow the doctor’s directions, even if she doesn’t want to. I’m going to visit with the doctor before we catch the train in Clayton. I’ll ask him to visit her at least every two weeks.”

“How kind you are, Jonas. I know the girls will feel much better if the doctor is checking her progress.” Victoria beamed at her husband.

Having dozed off after eating her lunch, Sophie was abruptly awakened by the thump of pounding feet on the stairs. Paul stood in the doorway, his eyes wide with fear. “What has happened?” In three long strides, he was across the room and at her side. He dropped into the chair beside her bed and grasped her hand as though he thought she might take off in flight.