Because of Rebecca Page 6

Beneath her gloves, Josephine’s palms were damp as she entered the church. She spotted the confessional and it beckoned to her to repent, because she was there on a carnal mission rather than to reverently worship God. She felt sinful in her actions, but she couldn’t stop herself.

  In a chance conversation with the hotel clerk she’d learned that Doctor Gordon attended midday services regularly. He also worked with the ladies’ auxiliary, putting them in touch with families in need. Two factors that appealed to her faith and charitable work, and gave her reason to speak with him.

  Taking a deep breath, she took her rosary from her purse and genuflected, crossing herself before sliding into a pew among the other parishioners. She knelt and nervously adjusted the collar of her new dress and touched the chignon underneath the short lace veil to make sure it was still in place. She prayed her efforts would not go unnoticed by the good doctor and he’d be pleased to see she’d taken his advice.

  Before the service began, she saw him slip into a pew near the front, on the opposite side of the sanctuary.

  Oh dear Lord, forgive me, but he’s better looking than I remembered, she silently prayed, clutching her rosary to her breast. His dove gray suit stretched across his broad shoulders, but looked rumpled as if he’d slept in it.

  He’d been rude to her. Yet she couldn’t put him out of her mind. She abhorred his profession, believing his kind were nothing more than charlatans. So why did she want to learn more about him? Who was the man behind his rough exterior? And why did her heart beat so rapidly when he was near?

  She went through the motions of Mass, repeating the litany and praying the decades of the rosary without much conviction. Squeezing her eyes shut, she willed herself to put Ancil Gordon out of her mind and concentrate on God and her service to Him. But the more she tried, the less it worked. Every time she closed her eyes she saw the doctor’s handsome face, and her cheeks heated at an alarming rate.

  Rising from her knees, she settled once again on the seat and listened as the priest spoke before beginning Holy Eucharist. Feelings of unworthiness soared through her as she partook of the Host. Walking back to her seat, she made brief eye contact with Doctor Gordon. He smiled, and joy rippled to her core. The jolt shook her and she took a seat in the nearest pew.

  When Mass concluded, she approached the priest to introduce herself and inquire about the ladies’ auxiliary.

  “Miss Davis, it’s a pleasure to have you with us at St. Anna’s,” the priest expressed. “I know that Mrs. Fletcher will be glad to have your assistance. Let me find her. Oh, there’s Doctor Gordon. He can help you get started.”

  “No, you don’t have to—” but her words fell on deaf ears as the priest motioned to the doctor to join them.

  “Doctor Gordon, this is Miss Josephine Davis. She’s visiting Jackson for a while and would like to aid the ladies’ auxiliary. I looked for Mrs. Fletcher, but it seems she has already left the chapel. Would you be so kind as to show Miss Davis to the canteen? I’m sure you’ll find Mrs. Fletcher there.”

  “Certainly, Father Bohannon,” Doctor Gordon replied and glanced at her as the priest walked away.

  She held her breath, noticing a woodsy scent, as his eyes looked her up and down.

  “Why doesn’t it surprise me to see you here, Miss Davis?”

  Josephine hoped the warmth surging through her cheeks wasn’t apparent. “I think I mentioned my devotion to working in my home parish. It’s only natural I’d want to be of service to the church while I’m in Jackson.”

  “Of course you would.” The doctor half-grinned and she could feel his gaze rove over her again. “If I may be so bold to say, you look much improved today, Miss Davis.”

  “Thank you, Doctor Gordon. Are you going to look for Mrs. Fletcher?”

  “Oh yes.” He sounded startled by her question as if he’d forgotten the priest’s request. “Come with me. I’m sure Constance will be able to use your help.”

  Constance?

  Josephine followed him outside to the breezeway that led to a mid-size building. Two women, carrying bundles of cloth swatches, were going inside as they approached and the doctor introduced her.

  “Miss Davis, I’d like you to meet Posey Reynolds and Matilda Bradbury,” He said. “Miss Davis is visiting Jackson and would like to be of aid to the auxiliary while she’s in town.”

  “Can you sew?” Mrs. Reynolds asked.

  “Yes, I can,” Josephine assured. “One of my quilts came in second at the county fair.”

  “Good. We can always use an extra pair of hands. Mr. Haggerty at the mercantile just donated these bundles of cloth samples for our use in making quilts for St. Benedict’s Orphanage in Mobile County,” Mrs. Reynolds said.

  “We do it every year for Christmas,” Mrs. Bradbury explained.

  A woman in a blue dress and white gloves joined them and Josephine assumed she must be Constance Fletcher. She was about ten years older than the other women and her hair was black as pitch. Her demeanor spoke volumes about her and Josephine felt inferior.

  “Hello, Ancil. Who do you have here?” Mrs. Fletcher asked in a superior tone.

  “Constance,” he acknowledged with a slight nod. “I’d like you to meet Miss Josephine Davis. She’s visiting Jackson and would like to help the auxiliary.”

  Mrs. Fletcher nodded but her smile suggested she was not entirely pleased. “We’re always in need of extra hands. We’re beginning a sewing project today. Are you handy with a needle?”

  “Yes I am.” Josephine wondered what kind of connection Ancil and this woman had that they’d used their Christian names so freely. He certainly hadn’t called her Josephine.

  “I’ll leave you in Constance’s capable hands, Miss Davis,” Doctor Gordon said.

  “Thank you.” She gave him her warmest smile, looking straight into his eyes.

  He looked startled for a moment, then cleared his throat and smiled at those around him. “Ladies, if you’ll excuse me I have patients to see.”

  The women went about their business while Josephine watched him go. Her heart beat a little faster as she feared he had a love interest with Constance Fletcher. She desperately wanted to know if he did. She would not allow herself to be made a fool.

  Slowly turning to join the others, Josephine noticed Mrs. Fletcher’s close cold stare. Chills ran up her spine and for the first time in her life she felt she’d just entered the lions’ den.

  But she wouldn’t cower. She didn’t care how hard Mrs. Fletcher stared or how cold her smiles were. As far as Josephine was concerned Ancil Gordon was fair game and until she knew otherwise she’d pursue getting to know him. It didn’t matter how much Mrs. Fletcher dyed her hair, she was younger and she could turn on the charm when she wanted. And she wanted Ancil Gordon.

  Chapter Six

  Jared sat at his desk a few nights later going over the plantation ledgers. His lamp burned low as the wick soaked up the last of the oil. He closed the book and rubbed his face. When the light went out, he stood and walked over to the French doors and stared up into the midnight sky.

  The accounts balanced. Every month since the three bad seasons of crops, he feared there wouldn’t be enough money to cover the expenses and pay his men. It brought a small measure of comfort he could do so. But being in balance did not take away the looming threat Stuart Delaney made to Oak Hill. His letter said he’d be here by the end of the month with an auctioneer.

  Jared wasn’t sure if Delaney seriously planned to force him into auctioning Oak Hill to cover Rory’s debts, or if he’d referred to the action as a threat to show power. Either way he wasn’t looking forward to Delaney’s arrival.

  His options were minimal and he’d been giving Mitchell Cooper’s suggestion he remarry more thought, especially since meeting Miss Davis. He’d enjoyed their time together far more than he’d ever imagined he would. A feeling of guilt...no remorse nagged at him, but he couldn’t cling to his marriage vows with Charisse forever. What they’d had together was spec
ial, but she was gone. Surely she’d want him to move on, to find happiness if the opportunity rose.

  “Mr. Hollingsworth!”

  “Mr. Hollingsworth!”

  The faint call of a child’s voice came from the darkness and he stepped further out onto the upper verandah to get a better look.

  “Mr. Hollingsworth!”

  “Who’s there?” he called, finally spotting a moon shadowed form in the darkness.

  “It’s Harmony, sir. Papa sent me to get you.” Her voice trembled with agitation and urgency. “Come quick.”

  Jared raced down the verandah stairs and into the front garden where the young girl stood barefoot in her nightgown. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Mama. She’s having the baby. The midwife says she needs the doctor to come,” Harmony explained. She tugged on his hand urging him toward the barn. “Papa needs you to go to town and bring back the doctor. He’d go himself, but Mama doesn’t want him to leave the house. She’s awful scared.” The girl’s voice faltered and she cried, “We’re all scared.”

  “I’ll go.” Jared knelt and squeezed her shoulders lightly for reassurance. He looked directly into her eyes. “Don’t you worry, your mama will be fine. I want you to go wake Mary and take her back with you to watch your sisters.”

  Harmony nodded and raced to the main house. Jared watched her disappear into the shadows before he went into the stables. To his surprise, Higgins had a horse saddled waiting for him.

  “I heard the child, sir. Should I go for you?”

  “Thank you, Higgins, but no. I’ll go. You can go back to bed now.” He’d sent Paxton to fetch the doctor that fateful night when Charisse went into labor, so it was only right that he return the favor.

  “Yes sir.”

  Jared forced the horse into a gallop in the moonlit darkness. The heady scent of honeysuckle perfumed the summer air, but a skin crawling anxiety soaked his shirt, chilling him as though it was winter.

  Low-hanging branches from a nearby tree scrapped his face and arms as he leaned over the horse’s neck. He pushed them out of his way, but he couldn’t do the same with his old painful memories of Charisse and their child crowding his brain.

  Fear for Isabella and remorse for his own loss prompted him to push the memories aside and drive the horse to go faster. Doctor Gordon was the town’s physician now. Isabella would be fine. She wouldn’t suffer like Charisse. Jared had to believe that.

  When he reached the darkened town, he headed to the doctor’s small house. He pounded on the door, guessing he’d have to wake the man from a sound sleep. He waited; then, he pounded again, harder this time. Still no answer. Panic dried his mouth. If Gordon was away attending someone, then he’d never find him in time.

  Jared turned and quickly scanned the area. A dim light shined in an upper window of the hotel at the end of the street. Praying the doctor was there, he jumped on his horse and headed to the hotel.

  The night clerk dozed behind the front desk, but jumped to his feet when Jared burst through the doors.

  “Wh—what’s going on?” the clerk stammered.

  “Have you seen Doctor Gordon?” Jared demanded.

  The clerk nodded, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “H-he’s upstairs with a guest.”

  “Thanks,” Jared called over his shoulder and raced toward the stairs.

  “Wait, you can’t go up there,” the clerk said, following close on his heels.

  Jared paid no heed to the man as he took the steps two at time. There was no time to waste.

  At the second floor landing he stopped and looked down the hallway in both directions.

  “Which room?”

  “I’m not at liberty to give out that information.” The clerk stiffened his back to appear taller than his stubby frame. “If you persist, I’ll have no choice but to call for the sheriff.”

  Jared grabbed the clerk’s shirtfront, pulling him close. “Listen, there’s a woman in childbirth needing Doctor Gordon. Are you going to tell me which room he’s in, or do I have to knock on every door, waking your guests until I find him?”

  “There’s no need to get violent,” the clerk blustered, backing down. “He’s in the suite at the end of the hall.”

  Jared released the man and stalked to the door. It wasn’t until he reached it that he realized this was Rebecca’s suite.

  Further alarm engulfed his senses and he rapped on the door, fearing the worst. No one answered. Taking a deep breath he leaned his head against the door and knocked again. On the other side he heard the sound of Lucas’s cry and perspiration broke out on his forehead. Please God, don’t let Lucas be ill. Not now.

  After what felt like an eternity, the door opened. He staggered inside, his strength drained.

  A wide-eyed surprised Charlotte stared at him. “Mr. Hollingsworth! What brings you here at this late hour?”

  “Jared, are you all right?” Rebecca entered the room, carrying a whimpering and diaper clad Lucas in her arms. She looked like a heavenly vision wearing a white silk dressing gown with her auburn hair hanging loose around her shoulders.

  For a moment, he found it difficult to speak. He swallowed hard and stumbled to the nearest chair before his legs buckled beneath him.

  “Charlotte, get him some water,” she ordered.

  “Yes, miss.”

  The maid returned and offered him a tumbler. He drank the tepid water in several gulps. “I’m sorry to barge in, Rebecca, but I was told Doctor Gordon could be found here.” Sitting the glass on the small table he spotted a red rash all over the child’s back. “What’s wrong with Lucas?”

  “He ate something that didn’t agree with him. At least that’s what the doctor believes,” she explained, looking more concerned about him than Lucas at the moment.

  “Jared, what seems to be the problem?” Doctor Gordon asked, coming into the front room with Rebecca’s aunt.

  “My foreman’s wife has gone into labor before her time and the mid-wife has sent for you. We need to hurry.”

  “Oh my heavens!” Rebecca exclaimed.

  Doctor Gordon handed her a small jar. “Rub this salve on him and let him sleep in loose clothing tonight. I’ll check back tomorrow.”

  She nodded, rubbing her cheek against Lucas’.

  “Thank you for coming.” Josephine followed the doctor to the door.

  “It was no problem,” Gordon replied, then looked at Lucas. “No more strawberries for you, young man.”

  “Good night, ladies,” Jared said, starting to back out of the room.

  “Wait.” Rebecca rushed to the door and touched Jared’s arm to stop him. “Do let me know how Isabella does. We’ll be praying for her.”

  He nodded, covering her hand with his own. His earlier panic washed away and was replaced by a comforting peace. He again swallowed hard, not understanding how she had such an effect on him. “I’ll do that.”

  As the men left, Charlotte closed the suite door and leaned against it. “Do you want me to take Lucas and get him to sleep, miss?”

  Rebecca shook her head. “You go get some rest.”

  “I can stay up with you,” Josephine offered.

  “No. We’ll be to bed shortly.” She settled in the rocking chair with Lucas

  When the room was quiet, she laid Lucas on her lap, applied the salve then wrapped him loosely in a thin blanket. She rocked him until well after he’d fallen asleep. Her mind wandered to Isabella and the difficult time she must be having. Jared’s concerned expression told her he feared the worst. He’d experienced it firsthand losing his wife and child. She recalled the night Mariah gave birth to Lucas and the unforeseen complication that took her life. She didn’t understand why bringing life into this world had to be so dangerous.

  Lucas whimpered in his sleep as she slowly rose from the rocking chair. She nuzzled his cheek with a kiss and put him in his crib.

  She turned the wick low in the oil lamp until the light dimmed and crawled into her own bed. Her heart ached with worry
for Isabella and concern for Jared. She silently prayed the night would be easy on both. Please God let Isabella and the baby survive.

  ****

  Jared paced the front porch of his foreman’s house in one direction while Paxton paced in the other. The sun slowly rose in the sky, announcing a new day. Their eyes meet briefly as they passed the other.

  “Something’s wrong. I know it.” Paxton muttered, swinging his arms and balling his fists. “The baby should be here by now.”

  Jared stopped in mid-stride and caught Paxton by the arm. “It should, but for some reason this time’s different.”

  “But it shouldn’t be. She’s healthy and strong.”

  “And that will go in her favor,” Jared said wishing he had total faith in what he said, but for Paxton’s sake he added. “We have to believe that.”

  The words had not left his mouth until they heard the sound of a newborn’s cry.

  A smile spread across Paxton’s face. “The baby’s here.”

  “Go find out if you have a son or daughter.” Jared laughed, slapping the man on the back. Thank you, Lord.

  “Aye, I think I will.”

  A few moments later Mary came out carrying a steaming cup of coffee. “It’s a boy.”

  “How is Isabella?” Jared took the cup.

  “She had a rough time. The baby was breech and the mid-wife couldn’t get him turned. Doctor Gordon had a difficult time of it himself.” Mary placed her hands on her ample hips and stared out into the sunrise. “If you don’t object, I’m going to take the girls back to the house with me, Mr. Hollingsworth.”

  He nodded. “Of course. Keep them there as long as you see fit.”

  “You don’t look well,” Mary remarked. “A body would have thought you were awaiting the birth of a child too the way you paced out here with Paxton.”

  Had his worry been so evident? “I remember what it was like, the waiting,” he said, not wanting to elaborate.

  Mary nodded. “And now that all is well you can put that fear to rest.”

  Jared drained the cup and handed it back to her. “I’d better see to the field hands this morning. I don’t think Paxton will be in any shape to carry on his normal chores today.”