Love's First Bloom (5 page)

Toms River

Breathing hard, Ruth shut the bedroom door and leaned back against it for support. Her fingers were trembling so hard she had trouble unbuttoning the cuff of the sleeve on her work gown. When she finally managed to free the button and fold back the cuff, she blinked hard to clear her vision, stared at her forearm, and nearly gasped.

The circle of flesh just above her wrist bone was already turning purple. And she was just as shocked to see there were droplets of blood oozing from several places. She had never expected that Lily would actually bite her, but that was the least of her worries right now.

With Lily safe and secure in the crib Phanaby had borrowed from a member of the congregation, Ruth ignored the toddler’s cries of protest and rushed to the kitchen. She moistened a cloth with cold water and gently pressed the cloth against the wound and winced. “She bit me. She actually bit me!”

As the throbbing finally eased into a dull pain, Ruth removed the cloth, looked at her forearm, and groaned. She would wear a small but nasty bruise there for a good while, but at least Lily had not bitten her on her cheek, which would be impossible to hide.

When Lily let out another burst of shrill screams, Ruth hunched her shoulders and cringed. There was no doubt that anyone downstairs in the apothecary would be audience to her crying.

Embarrassed by her inability to handle Lily and dreading the apology she owed to Phanaby for what Lily had done, which inspired this tantrum, she took a deep breath. After she checked to make sure the bleeding had stopped, she rinsed the cloth before setting it into the sink. She quickly rolled her cuff back into place again before she heard footsteps rushing up the back staircase.

Hurrying out of the kitchen and into the hallway, Ruth reached her bedroom door just as Phanaby and Elias came rushing through the door at the top of the staircase. Although she was grateful that Lily’s screams had quieted to a whimper by then, she still felt guilty for the look of pure panic in their eyes. The poor woman’s face was as pale as the full moon that had been shining last night while Ruth was rocking Lily back to sleep for the third time. Her husband, who hurried forward to stand alongside her, was panting for breath.

“What happened to Lily?” Phanaby gushed, her concerned gaze locked on the closed door.

Ruth managed a weak smile and battled tears that welled again. “I’m so sorry that we worried you both up here. She’s fine. Just having a bit of a tantrum again. I-I put her into her crib, but as you can hear, she’s quieting down now.”

Elias furrowed his brow. “Are you sure she’s all right?”

Nodding, Ruth moistened her lips. “I’m sure.”

Phanaby let out a huge sigh and patted her heart. “I thought for certain she’d gotten hurt. She was screaming so loudly, I heard her outside. I dropped the laundry I was hanging up into the dirt and ran right back inside where I nearly bumped into Elias, who had left Reverend Haines in the shop to run up here to see if you needed help with the poor child.”

Ruth cringed. “I-I’m so sorry. I’ll wash everything again for you,” she assured the woman before glancing at her husband. “Please ask Reverend Haines to forgive us for making him wait on our account,” she said, although she was not worried overmuch. She could not think of anyone else in the village who would be more forgiving or more discreet than the pastor of the small church where the Garners had taken both her and Lily to attend services.

Elias nodded but glanced at the bedroom door before meeting Ruth’s gaze again. “If you’re certain she’s all right, perhaps it might be best if I leave the two of you to sort through this … this difficulty.”

“She’s perfectly fine,” Ruth insisted.

While he quickly disappeared back down the hall, Phanaby cocked her ear to the bedroom door and smiled. “She’s quiet now,” she whispered. “Do you think we could just check on her to make sure she’s not quiet because she’s getting into more trouble? She nearly climbed out of the crib a few days ago, remember?”

Ruth groaned, turned the doorknob, and eased the door open. She tiptoed into the room, with Phanaby right on her heels, but they did not need to cross the room to peek into the crib. Lily was sound asleep, lying at the top of Ruth’s bed with her tiny arms wrapped around Ruth’s pillow. The two fingers she liked to suck were still in her mouth, and she had Ruth’s shawl gripped tightly in her other hand.

As annoyed as she was with the little imp, Ruth took one look at her and felt a hard, quick tug on her heart. Lily’s poor little face was swollen and blotched with patches of red, the ringlets that curled about her face were wet with her tears, and all Ruth could think about was how very frightened and confused this little one must be after being swept from her caretaker and the mother she would never see again to live with strangers.

Silently, Phanaby took Ruth’s elbow and led her out of the room, easing the door closed again before she started them both down the hallway. “Since Lily can climb out of that crib, it’ll probably be best if we return it to Mrs. Martin before Lily has a chance to climb out again and hurt herself. She seemed so happy when I left you to go outside. Whatever happened to upset her so?”

Being careful to protect her wrist, Ruth took a deep breath. She stopped in front of the Garners’ bedroom door, forcing Phanaby to halt her steps. “After you went outside to hang up the clothes you’d washed, I wanted to help. So I moved Lily’s chair into the corner, sat her down, and gave her a few of her toys to keep her occupied while I emptied the washtub,” she offered.

She paused as a warm blush spread from her cheeks down the full length of her neck and then poured out yet another apology. “The washtub was too heavy for me to lift, so I started taking out the water, a potful at a time, and … and I suppose I was trying so hard not to spill any of the water on the floor that I didn’t notice that Lily managed to slide off her chair and disappear. By the time I realized she was gone and found her, I’m afraid I was too late. I-I’m sorry. I don’t know how, but I’ll find a way to make amends. Truly, I will,” she insisted.

Phanaby dropped her hold on Ruth’s elbow and furrowed her brow. “Amends? For what?”

She started to raise her hand to point to what Lily had destroyed when the woman walked past her and into the sitting room, her footsteps crunching on the debris on the planked floor.

The room itself was rather small, with only a small rosewood settee on the far wall flanked by tin sconces on the whitewashed wall, and a pair of mismatched, straight-back chairs that usually sat side by side in front of the fireplace with a very small mantel that held an old tin oil lamp. The only touch of luxury in the entire room was the heirloom crystal vase that used to rest on a tall wooden stand in front of the single window in the room.

Rays of sunshine that poured through the window’s sheer curtain glistened on the shards of crystal on the floor, shining light on the damage Lily had done—damage which had inspired a tantrum when Ruth ran into the room and pulled Lily away before she could touch the fragments and hurt herself.

As the woman walked past the chair Lily had tugged over in order to reach the vase, Ruth watched with heart-thumping dread. Phanaby pressed her fingers to her lips and knelt down to pick up the pieces of the broken vase, and Ruth rushed to her side and knelt down alongside her.

She placed both hands on top of Phanaby’s and did not let go to wipe away the tears that covered her cheeks. “I-I’m so very sorry, but please don’t be mad at Lily. It’s entirely my fault. I should have watched her more closely, but … but she’s so quick and so determined. I know there’s no way I could ever let you know how very badly I feel, but if there’s any way at all that I can make amends …”

She paused to gulp down another wave of tears, and Phanaby pulled a hand free to swipe at the single tear of her own that trickled free and lay on top of her cheekbone. “The vase was a wedding gift to my great-grandmother, who gave it to my grandmother, who gave it to my mother, who in turn gave it to me before she died, hopeful I would marry one day,” she whispered and tugged her hands free to pick up a large shard of crystal.

Ruth choked on the lump in her throat that she tried, in vain, to swallow.

Phanaby set the shard back down on the floor with the others, studied them for several long heartbeats, and turned to Ruth. As the rest of her tears finally fell free, she wiped Ruth’s cheeks with the palm of her hands and cupped her face. “I’m not crying because Lily broke the vase,” she murmured, her gaze as steady as her hands.

“But you just said—”

“I’m crying because I’m a foolish, foolish woman.”

“But I don’t understand. You’re not foolish. That vase is very special to you—”

“Special? No,” Phanaby countered and glanced down at the floor. “When I see that vase lying shattered on the floor, I’m grateful to Lily because now I’ll never have to look at it again, day after day, and be reminded that I don’t have a daughter of my own who would put this vase in her home after she married. Over the years that Mr. Garner and I have been married, we’ve both come to accept that God’s many blessings to us don’t include having children.”

She paused to take a deep breath. “Every time I caught even a glimpse of that vase when I walked past the sitting room, I lost a bit of my faith in His will, but I just … I just never had the courage to put the vase away, even after Lily tried several times to get her hands on it and I knew she could get hurt. Thanks to Lily, I don’t ever have to look at the vase again, do I?” she said, smiling.

Ruth shook her head, unable to find her voice as she tried to comprehend the depth of faith and wisdom within this woman’s heart. She also tried not to question God’s will, but simply could not understand why He had given a prostitute like Rosalie Peale a child, yet withheld the blessing of a child from this woman of faith.

Phanaby took hold of Ruth’s hands and leaned into her strength to get back to her feet before tugging Ruth up, too. “Are you certain Lily didn’t cut herself? Did you check her carefully?”

Pain shot through Ruth’s wrist, and she winced. “No, she’s perfectly fine, but I’m afraid I didn’t fare so well,” she admitted as she tucked her injured wrist into the palm of her hand.

“You’re cut? How badly?”

“Not cut. Bitten, I’m afraid.”

Phanaby’s eyes widened. “Bitten? Lily bit you?”

Ruth nodded. “Hard enough to draw a little blood. She was angry because I wouldn’t let her play with the vase after she dropped it.”

Chuckling, Phanaby turned Ruth toward the doorway. “Come along and let me take a look. Since she broke the flesh, you’ll need to put something on that. I’ve got some ointment in the kitchen,” she said, and shook her head. “That sweet little cherub has a bit of a temper, but don’t worry. She’ll only bite you once more and that’ll be the end of it.”

Ruth rolled her eyes. “Would you care to tell me why?”

Phanaby chuckled again. “Because the next time she bites you, you’re going to bite her right back.”

Six

New York City

Lured by the news that a verdict was imminent in the Livingstone trial, Jake managed to get to the courthouse just as the doors burst open.

Several men who were leading the hordes of reporters stampeding behind them shouted out the jury’s decision in a single voice that cannoned through the thick hush of expectation: “Not guilty! Not guilty!”

Within seconds, wave after wave of full-bellied jeers and colorful expletives exploded from the crowd like the finale of cannon fire on the Fourth of July. The outcry reduced the few cheers from the minister’s supporters to whispers.

Jake scanned the faces of the crowd of reporters, searching for his brother. The rush of urgency and excitement was palpable as reporters broke free, one by one, and charged off with their notes to get to their respective offices to write the articles for tomorrow’s headlines, proclaiming two very important words:
not guilty
.

Now that the minister had been acquitted, Jake highly doubted Clifford would want him to find the daughter, which meant he had wasted the past few weeks reading everything the newspapers had printed since Rosalie Peale had been found murdered. He couldn’t help but wonder: Would there be another chance to redeem himself?

Standing off from the angry crowd, where he was cloaked in night shadows, Jake had the anonymity he needed while he waited for his brother to appear. Clifford had an amazing, instinctive sense of timing that served him well. At any newsworthy event, Clifford was inevitably the last one to arrive so he could be the first to leave with facts in hand. Jake was more than a bit disappointed that his brother was still nowhere in sight.

As the crowd grew louder and turned unruly, Jake was glad he was far enough away to remain uninvolved. In point of truth, he really did not know or care if the jury’s decision was a miscarriage of justice, which was obviously the opinion of the majority of the hundred or so men who surrounded him, or a fair and judicious judgment rendered by twelve good citizens who would probably be wise to leave the courtroom tonight by the back door.