Courting the Doctor's Daughter. Janet DeanЧитать онлайн книгу.
it can do. Folks can’t throw their money away fast enough.”
Charles took Mary’s hand. “Just because your mother took ill from nursing a peddler isn’t a reason to judge them all.”
Mary couldn’t think about her mother. Not now.
But Charles’s words reminded her that the Bible had plenty to say about judging others—none of it good. Still, how could she protect her loved ones if she wasn’t alert when problems came knocking?
“Ben and I ran into him a few minutes ago. From the rapt expression on his face, he has a special interest in Ben. He even went against my wishes and bought him a ball.”
“I’m surprised he disregarded your authority, but I can’t see any harm in being generous.”
“I do, if he bought the ball to get into Ben’s good graces and discover his name. Why would he do that? What does he want?”
She clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking. Luke Jacobs meant trouble. Not merely for her or this town but perhaps for Ben, an innocent little boy she loved like her own.
Charles rose and crossed to the window, staring out on the street. Her brother-in-law guarded his opinions until he had all the facts, which Mary found both endearing and frustrating. But today she wished he’d drop his editor hat and share her apprehension, instead of refusing to sense a threat when it stared him in the face.
“Other than his expression, did he say something to alarm you?”
“Well, no, but Sheriff Rogers said when he mentioned the orphans, Luke Jacobs’s eyes lit.”
“I’d hardly call that evidence of a particular interest in our orphans.”
“Mark my words, Charles. Nothing good will come from that peddler’s presence in our town. I can feel it in here.” She tapped the spot over her heart.
Yet, if she hadn’t been taken with Luke Jacobs, why did she get lost in his dark, captivating eyes? How could that scoundrel have that control over her?
The man was a magician, pure and simple.
Charles crossed to her and took her hand. “Let’s not panic. Still, we should pray about this, asking God to put His shield around Ben.”
But even as she heard Charles’s words and admitted their wisdom, Mary knew she would not stand by waiting on God and let Luke Jacobs destroy Ben’s world.
Saturday afternoon, Luke climbed the stairs to the room over the Whitehall Café, his home in this town whether Mary Graves liked it or not.
His landlords had equipped the space with old, mismatched furniture, shabby but surprisingly comfortable and clean. When he crawled into the iron bed at night, the springs creaked, but a cozy quilt covered the mattress. Quite a change for him, a man accustomed to posh dwellings and elegant restaurants. This trip had been yet another in a long string of lessons on what mattered. With a roof over his head and food in his stomach, he had everything he needed.
When he’d spoken to the café owner Monday, she’d appeared glad to have him move in, gladder still to get his money, though disappointment he’d rent by the week had clouded her eyes. She’d asked for cash in advance, no doubt seeing him as shiftless.
Not so long ago, her description would have fit him like a glove. If only he’d done right by Lucy. If only he could undo his past. How could he have repeated the family history he despised?
He slumped into a chair by the window, staring aimlessly at the street. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t erase those years when he’d rejected God. He’d tried to make up for his past. Spent months searching for Lucy and his child, only to learn she’d died from complications not long after delivering his son. Every piece of the puzzle since that revelation had shaken him to the core.
His eyes stung. That he could never ask her forgiveness for covering his responsibility with a pile of dollars rippled through him. His only recourse now was to ensure Ben was loved and would not pay for his father’s sins. Luke’s breath caught.
Father. Luke could barely wrap his mind around the word. He didn’t feel like a father. He didn’t know how to be a father. He didn’t want to be a father.
He rose and paced the room. His central goal, to find a cure for epilepsy without potent narcotics like laudanum, had evaded him. He’d interrupted his quest to find Ben. Now that he’d found him, he’d stay just long enough to evaluate his health and make certain he received good care.
He couldn’t believe the aggravating woman who’d claimed his medicine contained spirits was Ben’s guardian. She’d be surprised to learn his remedy was a concoction of catnip, peppermint, chamomile and honey. Despite what catnip did to cats, he’d found the herb a safe and effective tranquilizer for humans and an excellent treatment for insomnia, colds, colic, upset stomachs, nervous headaches and fevers. This trip gave him the opportunity to test his remedy’s effectiveness on a considerable number of people. Its success pleased him. When he returned to New York, he’d expand production.
In the meantime, unless Luke planned to give up eating, he needed money. Setting up his lab had devoured most of his savings. The rest went to producing his medicine and buying his rig. He had no choice but to wire his housekeeper and ask her to close up his house. He could no longer afford to pay her salary.
His sorry financial state was exactly what he deserved, according to his father, who ridiculed Luke’s refusal to spend a dime of the family money.
But nothing came without a price and the price of sharing in the Jacobs wealth was more than Luke was willing to pay. First thing tomorrow he’d look for work.
In the meantime, he’d find ways to spend time with his son without raising Mary Graves’s suspicion.
Mary shifted in her chair, wishing she could be anywhere but here. Luke Jacobs had turned her life upside down, and she’d let her chores slide. The list grew longer every day: washing, ironing, mending, cleaning. She’d promised to take food to the Shriver family, to make sure Mr. Lemming took his medicine and then tonight she had a Sunday school lesson to prepare. Even with the boys’ help, she wouldn’t be finished by nightfall.
But her father had pointed out it had been her idea to find another doctor for the practice and insisted she be present at the interviews with each candidate who’d answered her newspaper ad. She hoped this interview would bring the help Mary sought.
The first applicant sat across from her. The hunched set of his shoulders and the way he twisted his hands gave Mary a bad feeling.
Her father looked up from reading the young doctor’s résumé and shoved his reading glasses farther along his nose. “You finished last in your class, Dr. Edgar.”
“Yes, but I passed the course.”
“I’m not willing to turn my patients over to a doctor who barely passed medical school, especially a regional school like Central College of Physicians and Surgeons.” He rose. “I’m sorry, but I have to terminate this interview.”
Dr. Edgar’s face flushed. “No offense, Dr. Lawrence, but are you in a position to be so selective?”
“Yes, I believe I am, young man, as long as I’m alive and kicking.” He handed the paperwork to the doctor, then ushered the red-faced applicant out of the office.
When he returned, Mary said, “Maybe the other two applicants—” Her father’s scowl stopped her.
“If a doctor is to take over this practice, Mary, he must be competent, honorable and care about people. If such a man exists, I’ll hire him on the spot.”
Mary nodded. The first interview hadn’t been a positive beginning, but surely one of the other two applicants would meet her father’s high standards.
She found the boys in the waiting room playing hide-and-seek. Michael