Blessed are the Merciful (19 page)

“Thank you, Doctor,” Rachel said through tears. “I know you and the others did everything you could to save my mother. Can we … can we go into her room? Just the two of us? We need some time with her.”

“Certainly. Wait here a moment and I’ll come get you.”

Rachel wrapped her arms around her father and said, “Daddy, we still have each other.”

Joseph nodded but did not speak.

Dr. Alban came back to the waiting room and said, “All right. Take your time, and let us know when you’re finished.”

Rachel stood up and reached for her father’s hand. “Come, Daddy. We can go in with Mama now.”

They entered the room, and Joseph halted just inside the door. Rachel went to pull the sheet from her mother’s face, and with tears gliding down her cheeks, she bent over and kissed her mother’s brow. Abruptly she turned away, great wracking sobs convulsing her.

Joseph remained by the door, staring at the lifeless form on the bed. After a few minutes, Rachel went to her father’s side and firmly grasped his arm. “Come, Daddy. Sit down over here by the bed.”

She guided him to a chair near the head of the bed and gently made him sit down. He stared vacantly at the floor.

After what seemed like a long time to Rachel, she heard her father gasp. She turned to see him lift his head, his eyes overflowing with tears. He rose from the chair and stood over Nancy’s body, then leaned down and gathered her into his arms. The floodgates opened and Joseph gave way to his anguish.

When his weeping subsided, he gently laid Nancy down and stared into her face.

“Daddy, we should go now,” Rachel said, taking hold of his arm.

He turned toward her, and there was a glassy look in his eyes. Rachel gently but firmly led him from the room.

Alice Drummond was standing a few feet from the door. “Are you going home now?” she asked.

Rachel nodded, and Alice went with them to the front door of the hospital. As they walked, Rachel told Alice she would get back to her as soon as they had contacted a mortician to pick up the body. Alice helped Rachel get her father into the buggy, then watched as the young girl put the horse in motion.

When they arrived at the house, Rachel accompanied her father up the stairs to his bedroom and helped him lie down on the bed.

“You just rest, Daddy,” she said. “Maybe you can sleep.”

Joseph nodded without speaking.

Rachel then went to her room, sprawled across the bed, and wept. Some time later, she heard the old grandfather clock in the downstairs foyer chime four times, and she got up and went to check on her father. The bed covers were awry but there was no sign of him.

When she reached the first floor, Rachel heard a familiar tinkling sound in the kitchen. She ran down the hall and found Joseph Mason sitting at the table, pouring whiskey into a glass.

“Daddy!” she gasped. “Where did you get that bottle?”

“At the liquor store, that’s where.”

“Daddy, don’t! That whiskey won’t bring Mama back!”

Joseph put the glass to his lips and poured the amber liquid down his throat.

O
N
M
ONDAY MORNING
, A
DAM
B
URKE
stopped at the Ben Franklin Memorial Hospital before work. His heart was in his throat.

The receptionist looked up at him and smiled as he approached the desk. “May I help you, sir?”

“Yes, ma’am. You have a patient here … Mrs. Nancy Mason. What room is she in, please?”

The receptionist’s smile faded. “Sir, Mrs. Mason took a turn for the worse earlier this morning and died a little over an hour ago.”

It took a few moments before Adam could speak. He finally said, “I … I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Are you a member of the family? If you are, we can let you go to the room. Mr. Mason and his daughter are there now. I’m sure they could use some comfort.”

Adam’s voice faltered. “No … I’m not a family member.”

Adam’s whole body was quaking and he could hardly breathe as he drove his buggy from the hospital.
I killed Nancy Mason!
The words were loud and accusing in his mind. Adam pulled the buggy to the side of the street and stifled the cry in his throat by pressing his hand to his mouth.

“Adam,” he said aloud, “it
wasn’t
your fault. Get that into your head.”

He took a deep breath, and after a few moments put the horse in motion once more and turned his thoughts to his next task—a talk with Mr. Benson.
“Good morning, Mr. Burke,” Jill Hawkins said, smiling. “Have a nice weekend?”

“I’ve had better,” he said, forcing a smile. “Jill, when Mr. Benson comes in, will you tell him I need a few minutes with him as soon as possible? It’s very important.”

“How about right now? He was here already when I came in. I think he’d have time to see you before he gets his day started.” She left her chair and went to Benson’s office door.

Adam waited at her desk, his insides churning. He heard Benson’s muffled voice, and then Jill opened the door and leaned inside the doorway. In a moment she turned back to Adam and said, “Did you hear that, Mr. Burke?”

Adam walked toward her. “Yes, Jill. Thank you.”

When the door closed behind him, Adam smiled and said, “Did you have a successful trip, sir?”

“Sure did,” said Benson, rising from his desk to offer his hand. He invited Adam to sit down and then returned to his own chair. “Well! The first items brought to my attention when I came in this morning were the cases you handled so beautifully while I was gone. Jill left the reports on top of my desk along with all the others. But yours were at the top of the stack. Well done, Adam. Well done.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Now, before you bring up your reason for wanting to see me, please allow me to bring up my subject first.”

“Of course.”

“Adam, I’ve given a great deal of thought lately to the fine work you’ve been doing, and I’ve decided that you should become a partner in this firm. And as you become a partner, I will see to it that your annual income doubles over what it is right now. How about it? You ready to get your name put on the sign out front?”

“That’s … that’s quite an offer, sir.”

Benson chuckled. “I thought it would appeal to you. And you’ve earned it, son.”

“Mr. Benson, this actually brings up the reason I wanted to see you this morning.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, sir. I want you to know that I deeply appreciate the offer you just laid before me, but—”

“But what?”

“I can’t accept it, sir. You see, I wanted to talk to you this morning so I could give you my two week notice.”

Benson’s bushy eyebrows arched. “Two week notice? You’re leaving us?”

“Yes, sir. Not because I’m unhappy working for the firm, Mr. Benson, but because I’m going out West to establish my own law firm.”

“Your own law firm?”

“Yes, sir,”

Benson’s brows knitted together in a frown. “And exactly where are you going to establish it?”

“North Platte, Nebraska. The chairman of North Platte’s town council, a Mr. William Dauntt, encouraged me to come. There’s no law office in the town right now. The people there have to travel a hundred and twenty miles one way for legal help.”

“Have you been there?”

“Well, I took a trip all the way to California with my uncle right after I graduated from Harvard, sir. Our train stopped in North Platte, but we didn’t get off and actually see the town. On that trip I fell in love with the West. It’s been calling me back ever since.”

“Adam, I’m disappointed. I very much wanted you as a partner in this firm.” A smile broke across Benson’s face. “But I have to admire your pioneer spirit. I started my own law firm once, and I can understand your desire to do so.”

“I’m glad you feel that way, Mr. Benson.”

“Now, what about your wedding? Wasn’t that set for late October?”

“It was, sir, but the wedding’s off.”

Benson’s eyebrows arched again. “Off? You and Philipa aren’t getting married?”

“No, sir. We had a falling out over my desire to move to Nebraska, so it’s all over between us.”

“Hmm. Well, I’m sorry to hear that, Adam. But I certainly wish you the best.”

On Tuesday morning Joseph Mason lay in bed, still under the effects of the whiskey.

Rachel stood over him and said, “Since you’re in no condition to do it, I’ll go into the office and tell them about Mama … and while I’m downtown I’ll wire our relatives, letting them know about Mama’s death and that the funeral will be on Saturday.”

Joseph scrubbed a palm over his face. “S-s-saturday? How do you know it’ll be Saturday?”

“I went to the Harrison Brothers Funeral Parlor and made the arrangements. Mama’s body is probably already there by now.”

Joseph frowned. “Why Saturday? Couldn’t the funeral be soo-sooner?”

“Not if we want to give our relatives time to get here.”

“Oh. Of course. You sending wires to everyone?”

“Yes. Some won’t be able to come, of course, but at least they should know that Mama died.”

Joseph nodded, wincing from the pain in his head.

Esther Holden, Joseph’s sister, was the first of the relatives to arrive. She came to the Mason mansion late on Thursday afternoon, having taken a hired buggy from the railroad depot.

Joseph and his sister had always been very close, even after she married Clayton Holden. Things changed somewhat when Esther and Clayton became Christians. Although Nancy and Rachel had not embraced the “Jesus business”—as Joseph put it—they didn’t
seem to be as uncomfortable around the Holdens as Joseph was. Nancy had corresponded with them over the years, and even more so with Esther when Clayton joined the Confederate army at the outset of the Civil War and was killed at the Battle of Shiloh in April 1862.

As a child, Rachel had spent some time with her Aunt Esther and had learned to love her. Esther was a bundle of energy and one of the kindest people Rachel had ever met. She was always busy with her home, her church, her neighborhood, and anyplace else where her tireless help was needed. She had a deep, abiding faith in Christ, and her countenance showed the peace that was in her heart.

When Rachel turned sixteen, she and Esther began writing to each other and had developed a strong bond between them. Rachel was glad now to be able to turn the reins over to Esther with her propensity for organization and detail.

Millie, the maid and cook, had returned that morning from her visit to relatives. After the initial shock of learning about Nancy’s death, she went back to her duties, finding some relief in the mundane tasks of cooking and cleaning.

In spite of Millie and Esther’s protests, Rachel joined in and helped them.

Saturday was sunny and warm with a bright azure sky covering Philadelphia like a canopy. The funeral was well attended by friends, acquaintances, and people of the business world. Relatives had come from far and near and were a comfort to the grieving husband and daughter.

Esther was a tower of strength for Rachel during the service. At the graveside, Esther placed herself between Joseph and Rachel, ready to offer a strong arm to lean on.

After the brief service, everyone was invited to the Mason home for refreshments. The guests gathered in the backyard, where Joseph and Rachel greeted them and accepted their heartfelt condolences.
Aunt Esther was the perfect hostess, seeming to be everywhere at once.

After a short time, Joseph excused himself to a couple of relatives and made his way toward the back door of the house. Although he had sworn to himself not to drink while his sister was staying with them, he was feeling more and more as if he would never make it through this day without it.

Esther caught a glimpse of him looking over his shoulder as he passed through the door, and she prayed silently for him. Her brother and niece needed God’s love and grace so badly, but they couldn’t experience these until they knew Jesus as Lord and Saviour. Only then could they know the truth of Psalm 30:5, “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” Esther thumbed away a tear, and turned back to talk with relatives she had not seen for a long time.

When the guests were preparing to leave, Rachel looked around for her father. Her heart sank when she could not find him, and she hurried into the house and up the stairs to her father’s room.

Joseph lay on his bed, a whiskey bottle in his hand. He looked at her with droopy eyes and waited for her to speak. But Rachel wheeled about and slammed the door behind her.

Rachel let the departing guests believe that her father was so overcome with grief that he had gone to his room. Finally, only Rachel, Esther, and Millie remained. Millie went to work gathering plates, cups, and glasses from the backyard.

Esther looked at her niece and said, “Is my brother really in his room because he couldn’t face people any longer, or has he got his friend up there with him?”

“His friend?”

“The bottle.”

Tears filled Rachel’s eyes, and Esther gathered her in her arms, holding her tightly for a moment. “Has he been on the stuff again, or did it start when your mother died?”

“When Mama died. He was doing so well until then.”