The Thorn Bearer

by Pepper Basham

  He raised his brow, her declaration and past choices not matching.

  She lowered her eyes and sighed. “Of course, it’s taken losing your love to realize how dear you are. London and all of society’s pretense proved the value of genuine affection.” She squeezed his arm, and looked up at him, her expression thoughtful, and perhaps … authentic? “I hope you will not begrudge my poor use of your heart, Sam.”

  “We are still friends, Catherine. Always.” He picked up a small portrait with a hand-carved embroidered wooden frame, surprised how easy he could release her. Their relationship had ended long ago, by her own hand. Why did she suddenly have trouble letting go? “Did you enjoy your trip?”

  “Of course. Being in town is always such an adventure.” She waved a hand toward the nearby building, her laughter as counterfeit as her smile. “Father would take us to the very same shop as children each year before Christmas so we could make our wish lists.” Catherine pointed to the quaint brick townhouse beside the shop. “And over there is the home of Mrs. Linton.” Catherine shuddered. “Governess number four, if I recall correctly.”

  “Number four?”

  A playful glow lit the dimness in her sapphire eyes. “I’ve never been very good at following the rules, I’m afraid.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  Her lips slid to a pout. “Oh Sam, darling, you don’t truly believe I was ever malicious in my defiance, do you?” Her frown deepened and she stared ahead of them. “That’s what Mrs. Linton called it when I chopped off Ashleigh’s hair.”

  Sam’s breath burst out in a shocked laugh. “You cut off her hair?”

  Catherine’s feline grin returned. “A sibling bout of jealousy. Father bought bows for Ashleigh’s Christmas present, the best types of bows, you understand. It was clearly unfair of him, especially when Ashleigh didn’t care a whit for such things.” Catherine moved close to his side again, gripping his arm into a sudden hold. “Oh dear, Sam. Here comes Drew Cavanaugh.”

  Sam followed Catherine’s direction to a tall man with a fine hat and coat to match his polished expression. Everything about him blared self-importance, even down to his wrench-tightened walk. His gaze raked over Catherine in a way to claim ownership. She squeezed closer to Sam and offered him her most brilliant smile. “Never mind him, Sam. He’s always causing a scene to gain my attention.”

  Never mind him? Impossible when the man’s dark gaze preyed upon Catherine like a vulture. Even if Sam no longer had romantic feelings for her, he would certainly protect a lamb from the wolf when he could. Mr. Cavanaugh sauntered past them, slowing his pace to rake his gaze over Catherine’s body.

  Catherine shuddered against Sam’s arm, watching Drew Cavanaugh’s retreating back. “What an obnoxious man. Perhaps a good month fighting in the war would humble him a notch or two.”

  “I was under the impression most men of his age were conscripted earlier this year.”

  She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I happen to know that Mr. Cavanaugh was granted appeal of his conscription due to medical unfitness.” Her grin spread wider. “He pretended to have a hearing loss in one ear and was released from the responsibility of war duty. So he spends his time spouting off that his contribution to the war effort of financial support is as beneficial as a soldier.”

  Catherine’s intimate knowledge of Mr. Cavanaugh shouldn’t bother him. News spread through this village with the speed of any small town in America, but her accusation bordered on treason. It wasn’t surface knowledge. It was possibly dangerous, even illegal. And highly intimate.

  Laughter pulled his attention away from Catherine and back to the toyshop front, where Ashleigh was speaking to some unfamiliar people. Stephen stood by her side, one hand in hers, the other wrapped around some sort of pastry. Cream framed his mouth and speckled his rosy cheeks. Almost three weeks after the tragedy of the Lusitania and the little boy’s smile had returned in full bloom. Had his nightmares stopped too? Sam’s hadn’t. Even in daylight if he closed his eyes long enough he could feel the weight of water pulling him into the darkness of the funnel.

  What caused Ashleigh’s laughter? His gaze flipped to the gentleman who held her attention. A pointy edge slid right down the middle of Sam’s well-placed intentions. The man offered a genuine smile and the woman to the man’s right looked familiar. Blond hair, animated face? Jessica Ross?

  No wonder Ashleigh laughed. Jessica’s easy personality and jovial disrespect at society usually left him wrestling laughter too. The resemblance in the gentleman hinted that he was Jessica’s brother, Dr. David Ross. The edge carved a little deeper. Sam might have liked him better if he’d been balding, an entire foot shorter, and a lot less interesting than he appeared to be.

  “I see my sister has emerged.” Catherine’s voice iced over the words.

  Oh yes, Sam saw. His vision became clearer and clearer. Now that everything was finalized with Catherine, he was ready to take hold of his relationship with Ashleigh with both hands. It would not be an easy sway to bring her heart to his. And she needed to know his sincerity - not a simple transfer of feelings from one sister to the next, but an awareness he’d been falling in love with her for months without even knowing it.

  “Who might she have in her company, I wonder? I don’t think I’m familiar with them.” Catherine started for the small group. “I do love meeting new people.”

  Realization dawned with a solid dose of gratitude. Socialite Catherine Dougall was not the right person for him. His gaze focused on her younger sister. His chest expanded with purpose. A tedious handling of the situation pressed his impatience into submission. He had to tread carefully between the bond of sisters. Catherine’s behavior proved her feelings for him never ran too deep. The understanding humbled him. He hadn’t understood either.

  Now? When he realized what love could be? Something much deeper than a superficial romance, heated kisses, or other’s expectations. It emerged out of friendship, faith, and a commitment of two minds and hearts.

  His smile grew with each step toward her. No matter how long it took, he would do everything in his power to win Ashleigh Dougall.

  Ashleigh’s smile stilled on her face. Catherine walked across the street toward them, with Sam close behind. Catherine’s dress boasted some exotic designs of green, mauve, and pale blue draped in dramatic fashion and narrowing at the ankles. Dramatic was certainly an appropriate description for her sister all around.

  And the afternoon had started so well. A carriage ride with Fanny and Stephen to the village, complete with a detailed conversation on how to approach Lady Cavanaugh about a location for the orphanage, an opportunity to purchase a few new clothes for Stephen from one of the shops in town with ready-made options, and a chance meeting with Dr. Ross and Jessica? All well, until now.

  “Ashleigh, good day to you.”

  Her sister’s treacle voice spooned out the words with false sweetness. Ashleigh met her fake smile with one of her own. “Catherine.” She flipped her gaze to Sam, who effectively dashed her annoyance with a friendly wink.

  “I see Stephen didn’t leave the shop empty-handed.” He nodded to the brown paper package in Ashleigh’s hand.

  “Those beautiful green eyes of his are quite persuasive.”

  Sam’s grin spread wide, influencing her own.

  “Ashleigh, dear, I haven’t had the opportunity to meet these friends of yours, have I?” Catherine made no effort to hide her interest in David Ross. “Would you be so kind as to introduce us?”

  Let the game begin. Catherine’s need to draw any and all attention to herself. “Perhaps you remember Jessica Ross from her visits in Millington?”

  Catherine’s blank expression answered.

  “Well, Jessica is a friend of mine from nursing school and this is her brother, Dr. David Ross, the lead doctor at Edensbury War Hospital and, subsequently, my new employer.” Ashleigh gestured toward Catherine and Sam. “This is my sister Catherine, and our mutual acquaintance Samu
el Miller, who traveled with me from Asheville.”

  A gentle smile broke onto David’s face, a hallmark feature – though she’d yet to see much depth of feeling in him beyond the complacent expression. He maintained an element of control she’d never seen in a man. Perhaps the best word to describe him was calm. A pleasant contrast to her sister.

  “Ms. Dougall is much too generous in her description of my station.” He offered his hand to Catherine, then Sam. “Lady Cavanaugh is my benefactress, and most certainly the employer of the lot of us.”

  “You must be in good standing with Lady Cavanaugh if she supports you.” Catherine’s did nothing to hide her interest.

  To David’s credit, he seemed to recognize her intentions too. “I am merely her grateful, yet penniless beneficiary. Though, I can also claim her as my great aunt.”

  Catherine held her expression in check, but the gleam left her eyes. Ashleigh’s shoulders relaxed. Surely the last thing the gentle doctor needed was a lecherous viper on his heels. She cringed at the bitterness in her inward rebuke. Her sister was angry and deceitful, but nursing her own anger toward her wouldn’t solve the deeper trouble of Catherine’s heart. Whatever it was.

  “And I’m afraid Aunt isn’t as generous as we’d like. The hospital is in need of quite a few repairs and we can’t seem to pay for enough help,” Jessica added, propping a palm to her hip. “The woman is practically swimming in money but she doles it out like a miser.”

  “Sister.” David’s warning look barely quelled the irritation on Jessica’s face, but she quieted. The two of them were quite the pair of siblings.

  “I’d be happy to help with your repairs,” Sam offered. “I’m here for several weeks and would enjoy the opportunity to keep distracted.”

  Yes, one of the many reasons starting the nursing job seemed so appealing.

  David turned his attention to Sam with a nod. “Ashleigh told us of your travels. I am truly sorry for what you endured.”

  Sam took David’s hand with new appreciation. “Thank you.”

  “And we’d be most appreciative of your help, should you have the time, Mr. Miller.”

  “I’ll be happy to start as soon as I can, Dr. Ross.”

  “David, please.” He looked to Ashleigh.

  “And you could ride with Ashleigh into town whenever you wish to work, Sam.” Jessica’s hazel eyes glimmered with a hidden smile. “Especially in the evening drive home. It would be good company after our long days.”

  Ashleigh pelted her friend with a threatening look.

  “That’s a great idea.” Sam’s smile encouraged a warmth of tremors in her stomach.

  “It comes as a surprise I’ve never met you, when I’ve known of the hospital’s existence for three months,” Catherine interjected. “Do you not attend social events, Dr. Ross?”

  “My occupation doesn’t afford as many social outings as I would like. Today, Dr. Radcliffe from London has come to look over the hospital and has relieved me for the week. I take it as a much needed holiday.”

  “Well, I don’t know if you should call it a holiday,” Jessica interrupted and added one of her infamous eye rolls. “He’s spent the first three days completing paperwork and writing letters for further support. Not my idea of a holiday at all.”

  “Unfortunately, supplies are needed as long as there is war.” David’s attention focused on Catherine, head tilted with interest. “If you are curious about the hospital, Ms. Dougall, I would be pleased to offer you a tour in hopes of encouraging your willingness to volunteer.”

  Catherine’s eyes flashed wide. “Volunteer? At the hospital? What on earth could I do?”

  “There are hundreds of simple tasks,” David continued, nonplussed. “And if you have any of the intelligence of your sister, you will be a quick learner.”

  Catherine’s mouth remained unhinged for a few more seconds. Yes, Catherine had a wealth of abilities and a quick mind, but interest? Not for serving up anything but her own comforts and self-advancement. David offered neither.

  David’s gaze flipped from Catherine, to Ashleigh, to Jess, his grin twitched with the knowledge of Catherine’s shock. He saw right through her, but still gave her a chance to change. The thought humbled Ashleigh. Wasn’t she always harboring anger toward Catherine instead of hope?

  David gestured ahead. “I believe it’s time for the well service. Shall we follow the crowd’s lead?”

  They moved along with the masses to the Brantwood Well. Hundreds of flower blossoms had been transformed into an archway over the rock well and created into a landscape-design of the hillsides surrounding Brantwood Lake. Above it the phrase, I lift Up Mine Eyes to the Hills and underneath the phrase, Abide With Me.

  “What is this exactly?”

  She wasn’t sure when Sam moved beside her, but there he was, voice low and rumbling by her ear. Ashleigh glanced to her sister, who was focused on a conversation with Jessica and David. She swallowed the sudden tightening in her throat and tilted her head toward him, but kept her gaze fastened on the Well Dressing.

  “During the Black Death water was thought to be contaminated - most water, in fact, except for some in this area. In gratitude for God’s provision, even in the middle of such heartache, the people created these decorations for each well to celebrate God’s protection. The flowers represent beauty and life, which is what these wells provided. It’s been a tradition ever since.”

  His silence drew her attention to him.

  His brow rose, and gentleness tempered the sparks between them like a soft whisper. “So even with trial, God is with us?”

  She nodded, her voice closed with tears.

  “You know, I think the Lusitania forced me to reassess a lot of things in my life.” He cleared his throat, gaze roaming her face. “It could have been so much worse for us. God provided escape, even with the pain…through the pain.”

  His words struck a chord in her heart she wanted to ignore. A truth which resonated with Fanny’s words from earlier in the week. Forgiveness? Healing? Protection even through pain?

  “I have something for you,” Sam whispered and pulled some paper wrapping from his pocket. “It’s not much, but when I saw them in the shop an hour ago, I knew they were meant for you.”

  “For me?” Ashleigh looked from the package to Sam, who slowly unwrapped the paper to reveal two charms.

  “You’ve lost so much. I thought…well…this was a way to start something new.” He held his palms closer to her so she could get a better view of his gift. “Bring beauty back to something that was lost, maybe?”

  Tears blurred her vision as she reached to touch the nearest charm.

  “A horse?”

  “Better to have one safely attached to your bracelet than to me.”

  She couldn’t tame her smile. He hated horses – ever since one almost broke his jaw with its nose. Her fingers slid over the next charm. It was a pair of silver palms outstretched.

  “Your hands.” He gestured toward the charm. “The way you serve others with them.”

  A tear trickled down her cheek. “Oh Sam, I don’t know what to say.”

  He bent his head closer. “Your expression is enough for me.” He took her hand in his and deposited the charms into her palm. “But maybe it’s a way to start over.”

  Start over? Could it really happen? Would God give her this chance after all? Oh Lord, help me know what to do.

  With a little maneuvering, and Sam’s help, she attached the charms to her bracelet and dangled it for full appreciation.

  “Come.” The priest from St. Andrews stood near the well, his white robe almost angelic. “Let us join in singing the hymn Abide With Me.”

  The singing began, slow and uneven, but soon blended together as the tune moved into the familiar.

  Abide with me, fast fall the eventide

  The darkness deepens, Lord with me abide

  When other helpers fail and comforts flee

  Help of the helpless, abide with me />
  Ashleigh looked up to see Sam staring at her, the words drawing her back to unspeakable questions of God’s goodness and presence. He knew the terrors of night which gripped her. Healing? Yes, they both needed healing. Hers from a deeper, darker pain than the chilly Atlantic.

  Anger shuddered with shame through her. Oh, how much he’d stolen.

  Abide? Was she prepared to truly place those words into action? She belonged to Christ, but if he abided in her, could there be room for her hatred? The thought twisted a knot of uncertainty.

  The next line tightened the knot. Thou has not left me, oft as I left Thee? But he had left her! In the darkness of her childhood, he’d given her over to a perverted madman.

  I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;

  Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.

  Her voice faltered, choked by truth and tears. Bitterness had been her constant friend for years, a sour pill to her sickness of her memories. And since the Lusitania, each reminder fed the malignant tumor of hate.

  But was God here? With her still? Could he curb the sting? Triumph over this cancer to her soul. An inner glow begged to shine in her spirit. Yes, He was here, pouring out His spirit through the words of this song. He could restore what was lost, couldn’t He?

  Her gaze flickered back to Sam’s, his attention still focused on her. She loved him. Her vision cleared. And that was something Catherine couldn’t give Sam. Her love. Perhaps God heard her prayer? Could God subdue the tainted passions molded into her by her father’s actions? She was helpless to her past, her father’s vices.

  But the song’s refrain came again. She whispered it from her soul. Help of the helpless, abide with me. Could there be hope Sam would want her if he knew the truth? For the first time, hope for Sam’s love bloomed amidst the brambles of her fear. Could love truly conquer the fear? Was she brave enough to try?

  Chapter Fifteen

  “I have a visit with Lady Cavanaugh on Tuesday regarding her property near the hospital.” Ashleigh focused on Fanny’s reflection in the mirror as Fanny made the bed, the woman’s white cap attempting to keep some of the rebel curls covered. “Grandmama’s support wasn’t as much as I’d hoped. Her last letter held only half of what she’d mentioned before I left. It’s going to take longer to become established at this rate, and who knows where I’ll find suitable care for the children.”