Blessed are the Merciful (16 page)

“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.”

“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.”

Joseph put an arm around Rachel’s shoulders as they stepped into the long hallway and headed for the outside door.

“I’m glad when we tell Mama what happened we can give her the good news to go with it.” Rachel paused for a moment, then said, “Daddy, I’ve been at Cecil’s side so many times all these years while he was doing yard work. I helped him a lot, too.”

“Yes. I used to call you my little tomboy.”

“I can do the gardening till Cecil gets better.”

“Aw, honey, I don’t want you to worry about the yard. I can hire someone else till Cecil’s back on the job.”

“Well, whatever you say. But I sure would be glad to—”

She stopped speaking when orderlies came through the front door wheeling an unconscious woman on a cart. A pair of well-dressed men followed.

Joseph glanced at his daughter at the same moment she gasped, “It’s Mama!”

T
HE SIGHT OF
N
ANCY LYING UNCONSCIOUS
under a blanket, with blood oozing from a large bump near her temple, and her hair and face caked with mud, froze Joseph Mason in his tracks.

He felt Rachel grasp his sleeve as he lunged forward and said, “Wait! That’s my wife!”

The orderlies halted the cart as the two men behind stepped up to Joseph.

“How did you know these men were bringing her in, sir?” one of the orderlies said.

“I didn’t! My daughter and I have been here with the family gardener, who collapsed earlier this afternoon. Wh-what’s happened to my wife?”

One of the well-dressed men spoke up. “We found her lying in the street at the intersection of Oak and Franklin. My name’s Martin Reid. My friend here is Bill Jessup. We were passing through that part of town when we saw her. We put her in my buggy and brought her to the hospital as fast as we could.”

“Daddy, she seems to be breathing all right,” said Rachel, letting go of his sleeve.

Joseph leaned over and tenderly pushed damp strands of hair from Nancy’s face. In a soft voice, he said, “Nancy, it’s Joseph. I’m here and so is Rachel. We love you.”

There was no response from the still form beneath the blanket.

Rachel caught a look on the orderlies’ faces and put a hesitant hand on her father’s arm. “Daddy, we need to let them take Mama so the doctors and nurses can care for her.”

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry. Please, go ahead.”

The orderlies rushed the cart down the hall. Joseph and Rachel followed while Reid and Jessup hurried to keep up with them.

“Sir,” Jessup said, “your wife carried no identification, otherwise we would have tried to contact you.”

“My name is Joseph Mason, and this is our daughter, Rachel. I own the American Securities company downtown. I want to thank you gentlemen for bringing Nancy to the hospital.”

“We’re just glad we happened along, Mr. Mason,” Jessup said.

The orderlies stopped abruptly at a pair of solid double doors. One of them pointed to a small room across the hall and said, “You can wait in there, Mr. Mason. A doctor will be in touch with you shortly, and there’ll be someone else who will want to get some information from you.”

“All right.” Joseph looked down at his wife. “Please tell the doctors we want to know her condition as soon as possible.”

“Yes, sir. You and your daughter wait right in there.” With that the orderlies wheeled the cart through the double doors.

Joseph turned to the two men. “You say you found her in the street at Oak and Franklin? She was just lying there unconscious?”

“Yes, sir,” Martin Reid said. “We think she was struck by a vehicle.”

Rachel’s face lost color. “You mean somebody hit her and left the scene?”

“That’s what it looked like, ma’am,” Jessup said. “There sure wasn’t anyone around when we spotted her.”

“I can’t believe someone would be so callous as to hit her and leave her lying there,” Joseph said.

“I guess it happens, sir,” Jessup said. “Mr. Mason, Marty and I have to leave. We’ll come back tomorrow and see how she’s doing.”

“Wait a moment,” Joseph said. “Let me write down your names and addresses. I may need to get in touch with you.” He took a pencil and a slip of paper from his pocket and wrote down the information as Reid and Jessup gave it to him.

When the men had left, Rachel said, “Come, Daddy. I think we need to sit down.”

She led him into the small room that had a couch and two uncomfortable looking chairs. She gently guided him onto the couch, then sat down beside him.

After a few minutes, Rachel hunched over and wrapped her arms about herself. She stared at the floor as she said, “I wish Aunt Esther were here, Daddy. We need her to pray for Mama.”

“My sister may carry things too far when it comes to her religion, honey, but I have to admit she does know how to get hold of God. I wish she were here, too.”

Tears slipped down Rachel’s cheeks as she pictured how her mother had looked on the cart. Suddenly she became aware that her father was shaking violently. Then he let out a great sob and covered his face with his hands.

Rachel put her arms around him. “Daddy, she’ll be all right. Don’t cry. I’m sure Mama is going to pull through this.” She rose from the couch to grip his shoulders, giving him a little shake. “Daddy, listen to me! You need to get hold of yourself. Mama is going to need all the support we can give her. She’ll need strength from both of us to help her overcome her injuries.”