“Mr. Ashton’s money pays for the best doctor. I’m sure he would know if there were more that could be done.”
Judith wasn’t convinced of that. Her grandfather would notbe likely to encourage his own physician to give his attention to a mere servant. Judith wondered if he even knew that the doctor had looked in on Mary.
“How goes your research?” Mary asked, changing the subject.
“It’s quite alarming. I see how my grandfather has been responsible for harming so many people, and his own personal feelings are ones of selfish ambition and pride at what he’s accomplished. It’s no wonder my father walked away. He was nothing like my grandfather.” Judith sat down on the edge of the bed and felt Mary’s forehead. She had a slight fever. “Who is taking care of you, Mary?”
“The girls check in on me. They’re good help. Don’t worry about me.”
“Of course I shall worry. But better still, I shall pray and endeavor to do whatever I can to aid you. Is there anything in particular that you need?”
“No, I’m all right. Even now, the pain is subsiding, and I need to get to my duties. This is the way of my condition. In a few hours, I’ll be right as rain.” She smiled, but Judith could see she was still hurting.
“Look, I’m taking charge. I want you to stay in bed today. You have tomorrow off anyway. Remain in bed and rest. If anyone asks, I will tell them that I ordered you to do so. I’ll speak to Harriet and Beth and see that they check on you hourly. I’ll also arrange with Mrs. Markle to make you some chicken broth. That should sit easy in your stomach.”
Mary reached for Judith’s hand. “I appreciate that you are so kindhearted, but please don’t worry about me. Just do what you can to help my sister. Now that you can see the truth of your grandfather, you needn’t doubt that he was the cause of her husband’s death.”
“Do you feel good enough to finish telling me what happened?”
“Yes. It was just before the war when Andrew first started working with your grandfather. Andrew held a great deal of land. Most of it was located in much sought-after areas. In one particular location, Andrew intended to build a row of homes for newcomers who couldn’t afford to buy land and build. He had figured he would rent out these places at a reasonable price and provide a steady income for the future. He planned that there would be twenty houses all connected to the other.
“He went to your grandfather to arrange financial help. He needed a loan, despite having a good amount of money saved up. He felt certain that because of the number of people who were moving into the area, he could rent them out quickly and pay back your grandfather in no time at all.”
“So what happened?”
“Andrew misread the contract and the arrangements. The money was due back in full far sooner than he originally had thought. The entire thing collapsed like a house of cards, and Andrew lost his money and the land, which he’d had to put up as collateral. Your grandfather refused to extend the time of repayment, and Andrew realized he’d been duped, although it was his own fault for not having read the contract more carefully, or better still, seeking legal counsel. Your grandfather had legal right to do as he chose. Andrew lost everything. He had no choice but to sell the lovely house he’d built for his family and find one that was of lesser cost to rent. He did what he could to try to regain his financial foundation, but nothing seemed to work out for him. He saw his dream realized for another man when Mr. Ashton built the houses elsewhere. It killed something inside of him. Little by little, Andrew despaired of life. He stopped eating and eventually took to his bed. He died there not long after.”
“How awful. I am so sorry.” Judith hadn’t yet read the information from her grandfather’s point of view, but no doubt he celebrated the land acquisition as a great victory.
“Judith, whatever happens to me, please promise you will try to make things right for my sister. Roman doesn’t make a large salary, although he could. His heart is to work with the poor, to extend the healing of Jesus. The charities pay him, but they can’t give him much money. My sister and niece do what they can to add to the finances, and I give them money as well, but they deserve so much more. They had great comfort and lovely things and lost them all. My sister and I were from a well-off household. Our father was a banker, and we wanted for nothing. Still, Martha has never complained about losing any of it, save her beloved husband.”
The sorrow in Mary’s eyes was enough to renew Judith’s desires for truth and justice. “I promise you, I will do whatever I can to make it right. I’m ashamed to know that my grandfather would act in such a deceptive way, but if he makes me his heir, I will set things right in St. Anthony and Minneapolis. You have my word.”
12
“I think he’ll be fine eventually,” Roman said as he administered some burn salve to the toddler’s arm. The little boy cried and did his best to wriggle away from the nun who held him.
Work at the makeshift orphans’ home was difficult at best due to a lack of funding. Some of the area ministers had been working to see a better facility put together, but charitable works were completely reliant on churches and generous people. There seemed to be fewer and fewer funds available from either, and as of late, the churches seemed less interested in community projects. Some even refused to work alongside those from other denominations.
Added to this, Roman had heard it whispered that a financial crisis was not far in the future. There were problems with inflation that seemed to suggest it could be a nationwide issue, perhaps even extending to Europe.
With tender care, he wrapped the boy’s arm. “I’m glad the law thought to remove him from his father’s abuse.” The nunhad told him this had been no accident. Others witnessed the child’s father fling a pot of boiling water at the crying toddler. Thankfully, most of it missed the boy.
Roman couldn’t understand what would prompt an adult to lose their wits with a child. It wasn’t as if a two-year-old could understand his father’s despair at losing his job.
When he completed his task, Roman ruffled the boy’s golden curls and smiled at him. “I know it hurts, partner, but in time hopefully you won’t even remember.”
Still, what was this child’s future? It was possible a judge might hear the case, but most likely the toddler would be returned home once a promise of safety was given. The boy’s mother was off tending to her sick father. Perhaps once she returned, the child’s life would be safe once again. It was even possible his father would find work. Things might improve, and the incident would be forgotten.
But Roman couldn’t forget it. He knew the burns would blister and ooze. They would hurt and cause the boy to suffer, and there was little he could do to remove the pain. The little ones were always suffering. Hunger, pain, and often a lack of a home and family. These weren’t uncommon issues. No matter how much Roman did, the poor kept coming. Their misery spilled over into his own.
He headed down the street, hoping to make it home for lunch. He was nearly to the bridge when Reverend Knickerbacker hailed him from his buggy.
“Dr. Turner, might I drive you somewhere?”
“I was headed home, so that’s rather out of your way.” Roman smiled and held up his bag. “I was just tending to some of the children. Any word on when we might get a better facility for them?”
“Climb up here, and I’ll tell you what I know. The drive isn’t that far, and you know they refuse to charge me a toll since I am on God’s work.”
