A Surrendered Heart

by Tracie Peterson

  “But you love the island, and it would be an excellent opportunity for you to visit with Michael’s parents,” Jonas replied.

  Beatrice snickered. “Since when are you concerned about that, Uncle Jonas?”

  “Don’t try my patience, Beatrice. I was speaking to Fanny.”

  Fanny set aside her stitching. “ ’Tis true I’d enjoy seeing Michael’s parents, and I do love the island, but not nearly as much as I love Amanda. I would count it a blessing if you’d permit me to remain and accompany her, Aunt Victoria. Even if Uncle Jonas comes with us, I’m certain she will still be weak and need a woman’s touch.”

  “That’s likely true.” Victoria sniffed and dabbed her teary eyes.

  Jonas could see his wife beginning to waver. He must take charge of the family’s relocation, or they would all remain in Rochester. And most likely in his house. The idea caused an involuntary shudder. Having only Fanny at the house in Rochester would be the better choice. She’d likely keep to her rooms when he was at home.

  “Then it’s settled!” Ignoring his wife’s obvious trepidation, Jonas voiced the announcement in his most authoritative tone.

  Fanny appeared surprised, while Beatrice was giddy with relief. “I’ll go home and pack. Do you think we’ll be gone for more than three weeks?” She didn’t await a reply before rattling on. “I’ll leave the children here while I start getting things organized at home; you don’t mind, do you? If Andrew insists upon staying in Rochester, I’ll advise him he should take refuge here with you, Uncle Jonas.”

  “No!” Jonas barked. Beatrice’s wide-eyed stare and his wife’s look of displeasure were enough to warn Jonas that further explanation was in order. “I’m going to send the servants with your aunt, so there will be no one here except for me, Fanny, her personal maid, and my butler, of course. Andrew will be much more comfortable under his own roof.”

  “But he’ll be safer here,” Beatrice whined.

  Jonas frowned. Like the recent weather, Beatrice offered nothing but gloom. He’d be forced to convince her. “Let me talk to Andrew. I’m certain he isn’t nearly so concerned for himself. Once he knows you and the children are safe, he’ll settle into his usual routine and won’t give cholera another thought. Trust me.”

  Beatrice offered a halfhearted nod.

  Jonas could see she wasn’t totally convinced, but he didn’t let on. Instead, he patted her shoulder and complimented her insight. “I always knew you were an intelligent young woman.”

  Beatrice beamed. The lie didn’t bother Jonas in the least. Such bold exaggerations were necessary if he was going to make any headway. If left to their own devices, these women would drive him mad before he could arrange for their train tickets.

  “I’m not totally convinced I should go,” Victoria said. Her taffeta gown swished against his pant leg as she slowly paced across the room.

  “Nonsense! It’s all settled. Instruct the servants to begin packing immediately. I’m going to the railroad station and will purchase tickets on the first train scheduled for Clayton tomorrow morning.” He extended his fingers and began to count.

  “I’m not certain how many tickets you’ll need for the family and servants. We should conduct a head count.”

  Beatrice quickly came to his aid. After seeking a bit of guidance from Victoria, his niece jotted names on a scrap of paper. When she presented the list to him a short time later, Jonas sighed with relief. He would regain control of his life once he had time to think and calculate his options.

  Raindrops plunked into a metal pan that Blake had set beneath a newly discovered leak in the ceiling. They’d patched the roof last fall, but after last winter’s harsh snows and the ongoing spring rains, the patches were giving out. The Home needed a new roof. Blake had told Quincy as much, although Quincy had opted to expand the kitchen instead.

  “We need to feed the starving,” he’d insisted.

  When Quincy entered the room, Blake pointed to the pan. “Another leak. If it doesn’t quit raining, the cooks won’t have any kettles left in the kitchen.”

  “We’ll patch the roof once the weather dries out.”

  “Patch?” Blake snorted. “A new roof is what’s needed. I told you that last year.”

  “And you were right. But there’s nothing that can be done about it until the rain lets up.” Quincy stooped down beside Amanda’s bed. “Is she faring any better?”

  Blake shook his head. “Hard to tell at this point. She hasn’t taken in any more liquid, so she’s not throwing up. I’ve given her a dose of morphine. When she awakens, I’ll see if she can hold down any fluids.”

  Quincy grasped his arm. “Until then, you need to come and help me with the others. There are few who are willing to lend a hand.”

  “I can’t blame them. Remember to wash your hands after you touch any of the patients,” Blake said as he continued to stroke Amanda’s brow.

  “I need your help with the others. I know you want to remain with Amanda, but I can’t do this without you.” Quincy tightened his grasp. “Come along and help me.”

  Blake shook loose of Quincy’s hold. “This is where I need to be right now. Amanda needs me. I’d never forgive myself if she awakened and I weren’t here to help her.”

  “We must find some way to balance this or others are going to die. Amanda is my niece, and I am concerned for her welfare, also, but the other patients deserve your help, too.”

  “Give me time alone to pray; then I’ll join you.” Blake waited until the older man exited the room and then buried his face in his hands. He believed in God, but he’d seen few miracles during his medical career. Prayer or not, most everyone with debilitating illnesses died. When medicine failed, he had seen little evidence of God’s intervention. But Blake now pushed those thoughts from the forefront of his mind and concentrated on Amanda. He needed a miracle, and he was going to trust that God would find Amanda worthy of healing. Medical science had no answers that would save her.

  “Amanda is a fine young lady, Lord.” Blake stared at her still form. “You created her, and she’s developed into this lovely woman who has a heart to help others. Surely that’s reason enough for you to allow her to live awhile longer. You know she’s not a selfish person—maybe a little prideful from time to time, but underneath she’s a good woman.” He gently straightened the sheet and then turned his gaze heavenward. “You know my heart, God. I’m begging you to save this woman. I truly think I love her.”

  “I do believe it’s dangerous when you think for yourself, Dr. Carstead.”

  He blinked away the tears clouding his eyes, but before he could say a word, Amanda had slipped back into unconsciousness. Even in the throes of cholera, she possessed the determination to banter with him. No doubt remained: This was the woman he desired to wed. If only God would spare her life.

  “You absolutely must get packed, Sophie. We’re departing for Broadmoor Island!”

  “Good afternoon to you, too, Aunt Victoria,” Sophie said as she motioned her aunt inside.

  “There’s no time for idle chatter.” She yanked off her gloves and tucked them into her reticule. “I do wish your uncle would agree to have one of those telephones in our house. It would save a great deal of time. Come, we must talk.”

  Sophie didn’t mention the fact that a telephone wouldn’t help unless the people her aunt wished to call had telephones in their homes, too. And Paul and Sophie certainly couldn’t afford such a luxury.

  “Did I hear someone at the door?” Paul appeared from the kitchen. “What a pleasant surprise.”

  The older woman waved him forward. “Oh, good. I’m glad you’re here, Paul. I’ve come to advise Sophie she must hurry and pack. With the cholera spreading, Jonas has decided it’s best for the family to take refuge at Broadmoor Island.”

  Sophie bounced Elizabeth in her arms and shook her head. “We’re fine right here. Paul and I aren’t fearful of contracting cholera, are we, Paul?” She narrowed her eyes and shot her husband a besee
ching look. “There’s no need to escape the city.”

  “Jonas insists it is best for all concerned. Besides, Beatrice is traumatized with worry.”

  Sophie sat down opposite her aunt and rubbed Elizabeth’s back. “Good girl,” Sophie cooed when Elizabeth presented them with a loud burp. Sophie lifted the child to her shoulder and met her aunt’s steady gaze. “You know Beatrice isn’t happy unless she’s in the midst of turmoil. My sister enjoys nothing more than drawing others into the center of her turbulence. I can’t believe Uncle Jonas has succumbed to her antics.”

  “This cholera epidemic is more than a silly charade. The disease presents danger to all of us.” Her aunt traced her fingers through Elizabeth’s fine curls. “I would think you’d be concerned for your daughter.”

  Sophie’s stomach muscles tensed at her aunt’s recrimination. “And what of Amanda? Are you going to hurry off to the island and leave your daughter behind?”

  “Sophie!” Paul chided.

  Her aunt flashed Paul a tolerant look. “It’s all right, Paul. I’m accustomed to Sophie’s truculent behavior.”

  “Why am I considered quarrelsome when I mention Amanda’s needs, yet it’s perfectly acceptable for you to intimate that I’m not properly caring for Elizabeth?” Sophie hugged the baby close.

  “I am intensely concerned about Amanda’s condition, but with the quarantine in place, there is nothing any of us can do for her. I am most thankful Dr. Carstead and your father are present to aid in her recovery. If it were possible, I would tend to her every need, but . . .” Victoria’s words trailed into silence.

  Sophie noted the tears that had gathered in her aunt’s eyes and regret assailed her, yet it didn’t change her mind. She didn’t want to leave Rochester. “Our homes aren’t nearly so close to the area affected. We’ll be fine.” She glanced at Paul. “Won’t we?”

  He frowned. “There’s no assurance of safety. Perhaps it would be best if you took Elizabeth and went to the island.”

  She couldn’t believe her ears. Paul was going to take her aunt’s side. Worse, it sounded as though he intended to send her while he remained in Rochester. That would never do!

  Sophie met her husband’s intense look with a forced smile. “The minute you’ve arranged to depart with us, I’ll be prepared.”

  “That’s impossible. You know I’ve promised to deliver food and medical supplies to the Home.”

  She shrugged. “If you truly think I should leave, then you can arrange for someone else to see to those matters and come with us.”

  “I have three families who have requested funeral services this week. No doubt there will be others in need during the coming days.”

  “There are other preachers in Rochester who can bury the dead.” Sophie tapped her foot and returned his icy stare.

  Paul pushed up from the sofa with a look of determination on his face. “When will the family depart for Broadmoor Island, Aunt Victoria?”

  “The servants will call for Sophie’s trunks late this afternoon. We’ll depart tomorrow morning. Jonas has gone to purchase the tickets.” Her aunt retrieved her gloves from her reticule and stood. “I’m relieved you and Elizabeth will be with us, Sophie. We’ll have a delightful time.” She leaned over and kissed Elizabeth on the cheek. “I look forward to helping you with her.”

  Sophie’s anger bubbled near the surface, but she maintained a calm façade until her aunt departed. The moment the door closed, she turned on her heel and poked Paul in the chest. “How could you take her side against me?” She didn’t wait for his response before marching down the hallway. “I suppose having Elizabeth and me out of your way makes life much simpler for you, doesn’t it?” she called over her shoulder.

  The sound of Paul’s heavy footsteps signaled his anger. “I am doing what a man is supposed to do. I’m seeking protection for my family.” His eyes shone with anger when she turned to face him. “How can you accuse me of sending you off in order to simplify my life? The only pleasure I gain from your absence is the knowledge that you and Elizabeth are safe. You know that’s true, yet you fault me.”

  “Strange that you didn’t express concern for our welfare until Aunt Victoria presented you with this wondrous opportunity to be rid of us.”

  “I haven’t spoken of my fear because I didn’t want to worry you. I have prayed for the safety of our family, and I believe this may be God’s answer to my prayer. I won’t have you remain in Rochester and run any further risk of becoming infected when there is a safe haven available.”

  Sophie snorted. His argument didn’t hold water. “If you prayed for the safety of our family and believe this is an answer to prayer, then you should be coming with us. As the head of our house and a servant of God, surely God would expect you to avail yourself of this opportunity.” She tapped her foot and waited. Let her husband find some way to argue that point.

  He clenched his jaw until the tendons in his neck protruded like taut ropes. “I am a patient man, and you know that since we wed I have given consideration to your wishes. However, I will not argue this matter any further. You and Elizabeth will go to Broadmoor Island tomorrow morning, and I will remain in Rochester.”

  “When you’re unable to provide an argument for your case, you simply cease the debate and issue an order.” Sophie wheeled around and stomped toward the stairs. “I’ll go to Broadmoor Island, but you’ll be sorry, Paul.”

  She ran up the stairs before he could see the hot tears that formed in her eyes. Her actions were angry and measured as she flung dresses, camisoles, and nightgowns across the bed. She expected Paul would follow and tell her he’d had a change of heart. But he didn’t.

  5

  Thursday, May 4, 1899

  Fanny peeked into the mirror and adjusted the navy blue ribbons that streamed from her straw hat like thick kite strings. When she’d bought the hat in March, Aunt Victoria had declared the chapeau a perfect choice. Fanny hadn’t been nearly as convinced. She’d purchased it more to please her aunt than herself. Had there been sufficient time this morning, she would have run upstairs and exchanged it for the one she’d purchased last year. Instead, she collected her parasol and reticule.

  “Where are you off to so early this morning?”

  Fanny startled at her uncle’s booming question. “I thought . . . I’m going . . . it’s a lovely day, and I decided . . .”

  He waved his hat and continued toward the door. “Oh, never mind. I don’t have time.”

  A sense of relief washed over her once her uncle had descended the front steps. Holding the lace curtain aside, she peeked through the narrow window that framed the front door and watched until his carriage departed.

  With a determined step she hurried to the kitchen. “I’ll need the spindle-back runabout,” she told the stableboy who was helping himself to a cup of coffee. She was thankful her uncle hadn’t sent the stablehands to the island. Both the cook and his personal butler had remained, as well. Uncle Jonas had said their services wouldn’t be needed at Broadmoor Island. Fanny wondered if Mrs. Atwell concurred and had adjusted to the unexpected arrival of the family. Thoughts of the kindly woman who was the head cook at Broadmoor Island and would eventually become her mother-in-law brought a fleeting sense of remorse that she’d remained in Rochester. She hadn’t seen Michael’s mother since the family departed the island last year at summer’s end. Though Fanny had posted several letters to Mr. and Mrs. Atwell, she’d received only one in return. The missive had been brief. Mrs. Atwell had warned she preferred her kitchen duties to writing letters. She’d certainly spoken the truth on that account.

  Fanny inhaled deeply as the driver assisted her into the runabout. The rains had ceased over the last three days, and the air smelled of springtime. The lilac bushes at old Broadmoor Mansion would likely be heavy with blooms. The thought of lilacs served as a reminder of childhood days when she and her cousins had played among the lilac bushes and the grape arbors at their grandparents’ Rochester estate. She prayed Amanda
would soon be well enough to enjoy the pleasures of the changing season. Dr. Carstead had attempted to assure her that Amanda was making progress, but Fanny remained unconvinced. She leaned back in the carriage. Once her business was completed in town, she’d deliver a bouquet of lilacs to the gate outside the Home for the Friendless. Perhaps the fragrance of lilacs would stimulate Amanda’s recovery.

  “Where to, Miss Broadmoor?” the driver inquired.

  Before leaving home, Fanny had decided against giving the driver her exact destination. If Uncle Jonas discovered she’d taken the carriage, he might question the young man. “The corner of West Main and South Fitzhugh streets.”

  After climbing to his seat, the driver slapped the reins. The horse slowly clopped down the driveway and turned to head down East Avenue. A variety of colorful flowers dotted patches of green along the way. Rain or not, the gardeners of the wealthy had been hard at work keeping the vast gardens and lawns perfectly manicured.

  Had the flowers begun to bloom on Broadmoor Island? She doubted the weather had warmed enough, though a wild flower or two could always force itself from beneath a bed of snow. Winter was slow to disappear in the islands, and dear Sophie would be livid if they remained snowbound and restricted to Broadmoor Castle. Her confinement at the island in the months leading up to Elizabeth’s birth had been difficult enough. Though she’d not had opportunity to speak with Paul, Fanny doubted Sophie had easily agreed to be isolated on the island. Epidemic or not, Sophie took pleasure in socializing. The lack of parties, coupled with ongoing interaction with Beatrice and the other family members, would cause Sophie no small measure of suffering. Perhaps a letter advising her to take refuge in the kitchen with Mrs. Atwell would be in order. She would pen her cousin a note this afternoon.

  The driver pulled back on the reins, and the carriage came to a halt in front of the Rochester Savings Bank. “Shall I wait while you complete your business, Miss Broadmoor?”