THE MORNING SUN streamed in through the kitchen window, bathing Colleen and little Ivy in an almost angelic light. A thrill of delight slid through Maggie as she watched Colleen rock the child after her morning bottle. Despite the upheaval of the previous day, Ivy seemed in fine spirits. Bathed, dressed in clean clothing, and now with a full tummy, she dozed contentedly in Colleen’s arms. Colleen gazed at the babe with such tenderness that silly tears brimmed in Maggie’s eyes. Tears of happiness.
Thank You, Lord, for seeing us through the typhoid crisis with our loved ones unharmed and for the added miracle of Ivy’s homecoming. Rylan and Colleen deserve this happy ending.
Maggie hummed to herself as she washed the breakfast dishes, looking forward to getting back to work at the orphanage. Maybe she’d have a chance to give a few piano lessons today, if the children’s schedule allowed.
She turned from the sink, wiping her hands on a towel, as Rylan entered the kitchen. Words of greeting died on her lips at the distressed lines around Rylan’s eyes.
“I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
Maggie stilled, praying Mrs. O’Leary hadn’t suffered a relapse.
But Rylan wasn’t looking at his wife. His sympathetic brown eyes were trained on Maggie. “You’d best take a seat.”
She sank onto a kitchen chair, her heart thudding in her chest. “What is it?”
Rylan crouched beside her, his face even with hers, and took her hand in his. “There was a fire last night. Adam’s shop burned down.”
Maggie’s blood ran hot then cold. “No.”
“Adam was taken to the hospital.”
The air whooshed from Maggie’s body, and she sagged like a rag doll. The room swam around her.
Colleen leaned over the table to clutch Maggie’s other hand. “Dear God. Is he all right?”
“I don’t know, love. His friend, John McNabb, called to tell me. He was about to go up to the hospital to see him.”
On a burst of frantic energy, Maggie pushed up from her chair and lunged toward the door. She tore off her apron with shaking hands. “Which streetcar do I take to get to the hospital?”
Colleen rose with little Ivy in the crook of her arm. “Rylan, you must take Maggie and find out how Adam is.”
Rylan straightened and nodded. “All right. Let me get my hat.”
The trip to the hospital went by in a blur, with Maggie only vaguely aware of the streetcar ride. She thanked God that Rylan was with her to ask all the pertinent questions at the hospital reception desk when they arrived. Maggie’s brain seemed frozen, incapable of one coherent thought, other than to pray for Adam.
A nurse ushered them to a large ward in the main wing, consisting of many beds, most of them with the curtains drawn. She motioned to a seating area. “You can wait here. The doctor is in with him now. He won’t be long.”
Maggie couldn’t sit. She paced the floor, trying to ignore the moans of the patients. The strong medicinal scent of antiseptic and cleanser seared Maggie’s nostrils, forcing her to cover her nose with her handkerchief. At last, the curtain around Adam’s bed moved and a nurse emerged carrying a tray of medical supplies.
Maggie moved to intercept her. “Excuse me, can you tell us how Mr. O’Leary is?”
The woman stopped. “Are you a family member?”
Rylan stepped up beside Maggie. “Yes, we are.”
The nurse glanced back at the curtain. “The doctor is finishing his examination. I can tell you that Mr. O’Leary suffered a few burns, and his lungs have been somewhat compromised from the smoke. But other than that, he should be fine.”
Maggie’s legs went limp. Rylan’s hand under her elbow was the only thing that kept her upright. “May we see him?”
“You’ll have to wait for the doctor to determine that.”
“Thank you.” Maggie pressed the handkerchief back to her mouth. Loose strands of hair clung to the moisture on her cheeks. Adam was going to be okay. Praise be to God.
Rylan guided her to a nearby chair.
Maggie sat, twisting the handkerchief between her fingers, fighting to hold back tears of gratitude and frustration. How could God let this happen to Adam just when he was turning his life around?
She swallowed hard, determination straightening her spine against the hard metal chair. She had to stay strong for Adam.
Maggie’s gaze darted to the curtain, where Dr. Reardon now exited. She jumped to her feet.
His eyebrows rose when he spied her. “Hello, Miss Montgomery.” He looked past her and must have noticed Rylan. “Mr. Montgomery. I hope all is well at the orphanage?”
Rylan stepped forward to shake his hand. “Yes. Everyone is recovering nicely. But we’re here to see about Adam.”
Maggie had no time for pleasantries. “How is he, Doctor?”
Dr. Reardon shook his head. “He’s a lucky man. If not for someone pulling him out of the building, he would have died.”
Maggie pressed her lips together to keep from crying out.
Rylan wrapped an arm around her. “Is he able to go home, or does he need treatment?”
Dr. Reardon tapped the chart in his hand. “I’ll discharge him later today. He’ll have to take it easy for a day or two and come back to have the burns re-bandaged.”
Maggie didn’t wait to hear anything else. She pushed aside the curtain and found Adam lying on top of a narrow bed, covered by a thin, white sheet. Black smudges marred his cheeks and nose, accentuating the pallor of his skin. Thick gauze bandages covered his hands and areas of his forearms.
She rested her palm on his cheek. “Adam? Can you hear me?”
His eyes fluttered open. For a moment, he blinked at the ceiling before he turned his head to focus on her face. The bleakness of his stare caused the blood to freeze in her veins.
“It’s all gone, Maggie. The shop . . . everything’s destroyed.”
The complete lack of hope on his face tore at Maggie’s composure. Tears spilled down her face. “It’s okay, my love. As long as you’re alive, nothing else matters.” Even as she spoke the words, she knew they were not true for him.
He shook his head. “This was my chance to start over. Now it’s gone. All the furniture I created, the restoration pieces, everything . . .” He closed his eyes, his mouth pressed into a hard line.
Maggie ran her hand over his hair, murmuring soothing words to him, wishing she could think of something to ease the pain in his soul. The burns would heal, but she feared he might never recover from losing his dream.
“The doctor says you can leave soon. Come back with us to Colleen’s. Let us take care of you.”
“No.” The anguish fled from his demeanor, replaced with a cold, shuttered look. “I’ll go back to my cot in the basement, where I belong.” The bitterness of his words tore a strip from Maggie’s already bleeding heart.
He shoved up from the bed. The sheet slipped off to reveal his bare chest, where angry welts were visible through the mat of his hair. He grabbed his shirt from a chair and stuffed his arms into the sleeves, then yanked on his boots and pushed to his feet.
Icy prickles of fear pierced Maggie’s heart. “Wait. Where are you going?” She scrambled to follow him through the ward.
Rylan spied them and moved to intercept Adam. “Slow down, lad. You’ve been through a terrible ordeal. Colleen and I want you to come and stay with us.”
Adam shoved past him, fastening his shirt buttons as he went. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine at John’s.” His words spat out like bullets.
Maggie flinched with the sting of his rejection. Why would he turn away from his family at this time of crisis—right when he needed their support the most? She rushed over to him. “Please, Adam, let us help you.”
He looked at her fully for the first time, his eyes as dead as the wood he carved. Slowly he shook his head. “I should have known this was all too good to be true. I’m sorry, Maggie, but you’re better off without me.”
With that, he charged down the hall, each step reverberating in the now-hushed space, leaving Maggie feeling more bereft than she’d ever been before.