“Then we will pray for him all the more,” Mother replied.
After dinner, Roman went to his room to catch up on some medical reading. There was a book he’d just received that covered a variety of new medical techniques, and he was eager to read it. Keeping up with the changes and advances in medicine was critical. Unfortunately, not all his colleagues felt the same way, and many were inadequately trained to begin with.
Prior to the War Between the States there were a mere one hundred thirteen doctors in the entire United States Army. After the war, there were twelve thousand in the Union Army and three thousand in the Confederate. Some were well-trained and educated men who signed up to serve when the war broke out. However, many were men posing as doctors.
Now those so-called doctors had spilled out across civilian life, and most had only their war training to back up their practices. It was of great concern to many of the doctors who had diligently studied at a medical college and then practiced under the observation and training of an experienced doctor.
Roman was eager to support better licensing practices and training for doctors. He’d met many a man who never should have called himself a physician. It would take changes in the law to begin eliminating those unqualified pretenders.
But with the bad came the good. The war had also brought about many changes and improvements in medical procedures. He supposed that was the way with any war. Necessity forced a man’s hand and imagination. Breakthroughs often came about because of the urgency in the operating room and on the battlefield. He’d seen that a lot and had even created his own procedures and innovations.
Surgery had already been a focal part of Roman’s training, and he was known to be quite good at what he did. Because of this, he was highly regarded and called upon to do some of the more delicate and difficult operations, especially when they involved men of great importance or their sons. Morethan once, he’d been called away from one battlefield to attend another. It had been dangerous and harrowing at times, but it had made him a better doctor in the long run.
Roman settled into a chair and turned up the lamp to provide better light. He started to read, but his mind quickly took another direction. Judith. It wasn’t the first time in the last four years he had thought of her. Most of the time he could busy himself enough to stave off feelings of loneliness, but he was just as vulnerable as the next man. Vulnerable to thoughts of falling in love ... marriage. The women in his family teased him often enough about it, but he always pretended it wasn’t a big concern. But with Judith Stanford back in his life, or at least the possibility, Roman couldn’t pretend such thoughts didn’t matter. He was ready to fall in love.
“But it can’t be her. She’s an Ashton.” He closed the book and his eyes. “I can’t fall in love with an Ashton.”
Sunday morning, Judith had breakfast in her room. The poached eggs and toast were perfect, as was the coffee. She’d developed a taste for the nutty brew as a girl in the pilothouse of her father’s riverboat. When she’d been young, they had traveled as a family up and down the river. Many a morning she would sneak up to see her father in the wheelhouse. She would take him a cup of coffee just as he liked it, creamed and sugared. He had always welcomed her, and she would sit beside him while he guided the boat, and they would talk. Sometimes, he’d let her have sips of his coffee. She supposed it was why to this day she drank it with cream and often sugar, as he had. It always served to give her pleasant memories.
She sampled the coffee a second time. They had known such happiness until the day that her little brother Frank fell overboard and drowned. Judith’s heart still ached at the memory. Her mother and father had been devastated, and she’d tried sohard to be brave for them. Judith remembered snuggling up next to her mother and infant brother, Jonathan, on the sofa to offer consolation. She’d done the exact same thing years later when Jonathan had died in the war. He’d barely been eighteen.
Mother had never quite recovered from losing Frank. She left the river for a great many years, determined to never again return. In time, though, she had missed the life she’d grown up with. Missed her husband too. When Judith headed off to college, Mama had reluctantly packed her bags and returned to life on the river. Sadly, it was that existence that took both Judith’s parents.
At their funeral, one of the older church women reminded her that as children of God, they were never out of His care. Judith had struggled with thoughts that perhaps somehow Satan had taken advantage of the moment, but her friend assured her that Satan could never have the upper hand with God.
“It might seem he gets away with things,” the older woman had said, “but there will come a reckoning, and he knows it well. His time is short, and so he does what he can to draw the children of God away from their faith and trust. Don’t give Satan a chance to lead you away, Judith. Think not on the things of this world, for we are but a vapor.”
The words were strangely comforting. God would not be bested, and while it was hard to lose her parents this way, she knew they were safe and one day they would all be reunited.
But now she was here in a place far from home, getting to know a man who had offered her father nothing but pain. How could she allow herself to love a man who had so clearly cast love aside? The entire matter was painful to even consider.
Upon finishing her breakfast, Judith put aside her questions and got to her feet. She began dressing for church, doing her best to focus on the Sabbath rather than her memories.
Harriet and Beth appeared just as Judith had finished donning her undergarments. Beth set out her hairbrush and pins,along with two ebony combs that Judith sometimes used when arranging her hair. Harriet, meanwhile, helped Judith into her dressing gown.
“It looks to be a beautiful day. Hot too,” Harriet said. She went to where several gowns hung pressed and ready. “Would you like to wear the lightweight blue gown? I don’t think you’ll regret it. Pity a woman has to wear so many layers of clothes just to make herself fashionable.”
“The blue dress sounds fine,” Judith told her. She sat down to the dressing table while Harriet went to fetch the gown. Judith finished securing her stockings, then Beth untied the ribbon from her braid and began to brush out her hair.
Judith was still not used to people waiting on her hand and foot. In Philadelphia, Helen sometimes assisted her if a chore proved to be too demanding, but normally Judith did everything for herself. That was the way she’d been brought up, and she was glad for that simple upbringing. In time, her charity work consumed more and more of her days, so she had given in to hire a cook and cleaning lady, but they only came in three times a week. The remaining days Judith and Helen did for themselves. Now Helen was managing it all alone.
Judith had to admit, Harriet and Beth did a good job, especially with her hair. Beth seemed to have a knack for arranging the thick mass of waves. Today she parted Judith’s hair in the middle and then worked with each side individually, rolling and curling and pinning it all in place. When this was complete, she studied Judith’s arrangement for just a moment and then decided against using the combs.
“I think you should wear one of the new hats,” Beth suggested. She disappeared to retrieve one.
Judith hadn’t even known her grandfather had arranged for new hats until Harriet told her last night. Apparently after their discussion on Friday, James Ashton had sent Mrs. Deetersout to arrange several new accessories and gowns. Judith had thought to tell him he could just send them all back, but she had read that verse in the book of Romans on Friday evening that said, “As much as it lieth with you, live peaceably with all men.” She supposed that included her grandfather and said nothing. Surely she could be peaceful about a few hats and gowns.
Beth returned with the straw hat and held it up. It was rather pretty with its mushroom cap shape and blue-ribbon trim. Mrs. Deeters had seemed to understand Judith’s simple tastes and had done what she could to bring her styles that would meet with her approval.
“It looks quite nice. I’m sure it will be perfect.”
“Winchell told me that your grandfather is too ill to attend services with you,” Harriet said almost as if it were an afterthought. “Apparently Mr. Ashton had a bad spell in the night, and the doctor was called.”
“Why was I not told of this when it happened?”
“Your grandfather forbade it. He said to let you sleep,” the maid replied.
Judith waved the twosome out of her way and, without even bothering to put on her shoes, padded off down the long hall to where her grandfather’s suite was situated.
