Chapter 36
Righty couldn’t bring himself to leave Janie’s side, even if he did realize that he had a burgeoning business empire to run. Today was for Janie and his newborn Heather, and for no one else.
The maid prepared lunch and dinner for them, and when Janie wasn’t looking Righty gave her a tip that probably equaled her monthly salary. Her eyes bulged at this man, who—while not exactly appearing to be a beggar—certainly did not look like he was capable of affording such generosity.
Dr. Ridemern must have made a commensurate appraisal of Righty, for one of the first things he did upon returning that evening—after dutifully checking upon his patient, of course—was to turn to Righty and say, “Sir, with regards to the money, I just want to let you know there’ll be no—”
Righty cut him off in midsentence with forty, crisp $1,000 bills.
“Would this be a reasonable compensation?” Righty inquired.
“Heavens!” exclaimed the doctor. “If you’ve got money like that to spend so extravagantly, you’d be far better off donating it to Comfort Hospital, rather than giving an unnecessary tip to an old dog like me!” the doctor said laughing.
“Consider it done,” Righty said calmly, “but I must at least give you fair compensation for your services. A man has his pride, you understand. Just let me know what the usual charge would be.”
“Well, I suppose around $3,000 falons.”
“I won’t part with fewer than ten,” Righty responded putting the bills into the doctor’s hands and then closing them around the money firmly. “You took us in in the middle of the night, and I’m not so sure Janie would have pulled through had you turned us away, not to mention our little Heather,” he added, almost choking up.
“I’m glad you came, Mr. . . . ?”
“Simmers. Richard Franklin Simmers,” Righty quickly said in a friendly, even apologetic, tone.
“I’m very glad you came when you did, Mr. Simmers. In my professional opinion, if you had been thirty minutes later, you would be neither a husband nor a father . . . at least not of your Heather,” the doctor replied.
Righty felt his throat tighten at the thought.
The doctor did not entirely share Pitkins’ knack for discretion, and the curious look that came over his face accurately presaged a somewhat prying question: “May I ask if you live around here, given that arrived in the nick of time?”
“No, doctor. I’m from a little town called Ringsetter, in fact. But Janie started complaining about her symptoms yesterday morning, so I took her to the village midwife. She told me to get to you without delay. Foolish though it may have been, I mounted her on top of my horse and held her while I rode as fast as I safely could, which was a lot slower than I would usually ride. It made for a long ride, and by the time I got here I didn’t even bother to tie up my horse. Jesse’s probably seen about half the city by know, I reckon,” Righty said laughing. “Janie slept through the whole thing.”
The doctor, who had been merely curious rather than suspicious, readily accepted the explanation and then invited Mr. Simmers to accompany him while he inspected his two patients.
“She needs two days of bed rest, and I advise you then take her home on your coach. She shouldn’t ride on a horse for at least two months. She will stay here in this room for her bed rest, and I won’t accept another falon from you,” the doctor said with mild, yet genuine, firmness.
“Well, I’ll get busy buying a coach so that I can take my two princesses back safely,” Righty said with a smile, “and I’ll be making that donation to the hospital. I can’t thank you enough for saving my wife’s and daughter’s lives. You have earned a friend you can count on at any time you may need it,” Righty said with a benevolent, yet intense, firmness that transformed the usual vacuity of such promises into an oath of immeasurable value.
Righty then kissed Janie on the lips and Heather on her forehead.
“Here’s a spare key, should you need to return at a late hour,” the doctor said warmly, surprised by his innate trust in the man in front of him.
They shook hands, and Righty disappeared into the night.
The International Businessman Page 39
