Carefully Leonie stitched on the tapestry. She had gotten up before dawn, and now yellow sunlight streamed in through her window. Stitch by stitch she made the pattern come alive, and finally she straightened up, took a deep breath, and smiled. “It isn’t bad,” she said aloud. “Not bad at all.”
She had been working on the tapestry now for longer than she had ever worked on any of her projects. It was a large wall hanging, and she had woven into it things that had been meaningful to her. There had been times when she had had no money for thread or materials, but for the last two months she had been able to make considerable progress.
Running her hand over the silken surface, she took a deep pleasure in what she had created. She didn’t know why it was, but making something seemed to be an act that relieved her from the pressures of the world. Ransom had told her it was therapeutic. She knew it was good for her to work, for as she put herself into the cloth and the thread and the materials of the tapestry, somehow the world seemed to fade away, and she could concentrate solely on the project.
Finally she heard the sounds from the street outside and rose to put the tapestry away. Carefully she folded it and put it into a large box that she had saved for that purpose. Then after looking in the mirror and fixing her hair, she left her room.
She began making a breakfast, for she knew Ransom liked to have a large morning meal. She had just begun stirring the beaten eggs in a frying pan when he came in, his cheeks rosy from a shave and his eyes bright. “Another good day, Leonie,” he said cheerfully and sat down at the table.
“It is a good day.” She smiled. “I fixed you a double portion of eggs and bacon this morning. I didn’t make biscuits, though. You’ll have to eat yesterday’s.”
“That’ll be fine.”
Leonie set the table for the two of them and poured fresh coffee into the large cups and then sat down. They bowed their heads, and he asked a quick blessing. And then he tipped a bottle of hot sauce and literally baptized his eggs.
“You shouldn’t do that, Ransom.”
“Makes them taste better. Good old hot sauce!”
“You’ve destroyed your taste buds,” she scolded, but she knew it was useless. He liked hot sauce on practically everything he ate.
The two of them talked easily, and she realized, Why, we’re like a husband and wife in the morning. The thought caused her cheeks to flush slightly, and she said quickly to cover her embarrassment, “Hugh came in yesterday while you were gone.”
“How’s he doing?”
“Very well. He’s sold four paintings, and he’s happier than I’ve ever seen him. He lives in a house in town now and has asked us to visit soon.”
Ransom applied a fresh layer of hot sauce to his eggs and then spilled a few drops on the bacon. “He’s a good man, I think.”
Impulsively Leonie said, “Did you know he asked me to marry him?”
Leonie’s words caught Ransom off guard. He had just placed an enormous forkful of scrambled eggs in his mouth, and he couldn’t speak for a moment. Hastily he swallowed and nearly choked. He grabbed the coffee and drained the cup, then put it down and stared at her. “You never told me that,” he said accusingly.
“I don’t tell you everything, Dr. Sheffield,” Leonie said, smiling.
“Well, you could have told me something as important as that.” He leaned forward and studied her carefully. The light of her eyes held laughter, and he noticed, not for the first time, that she had a pleasantly expressive mouth—a woman’s lovely lips.
Light danced in her eyes. “Did you think I should have sent him to ask your permission to marry me?”
Ransom said casually, “Well, since you don’t have any parents, I think it might have been appropriate.”
“What would you ask him?”
“Oh, the usual stuff. ‘Are you able to support a wife? Do you love her with all your heart? Will you promise never to be short or angry with her?’”
“And what if he passed the test?”
“Leonie, why did he bring that up? It’s an odd topic for the two of you to discuss.”
“I think he’s just lonely and—”
When she broke off Ransom studied her more carefully. “You’re lonely too, I suppose.”
“I’m very happy, Ransom. Much happier than I was when I was younger.”
Ransom watched her face and said, “Well, if any young men come calling, I insist on interviewing them.”
“You’d scare them off. You have a formidable manner at times.”
“Me? I’m as mild as Louis.”
Louis had been sitting on the floor, looking up, hoping for a bite of something. “You are gentle, aren’t you, Louis?” Ransom said. He broke off a piece of bacon, leaned over, and gave it to the cat, who promptly devoured it.
“You can be stern sometimes.”
“Not with you, I hope, Leonie.”
“No. Never with me.”
It was a pleasant breakfast, and finally Leonie rose, saying, “I’ve got to go to the market. Do you need anything particularly?”
“Why don’t you get some fresh jumbo shrimp?”
“You’d have those every night. You need a change.”
“Just tonight. We can have what you want tomorrow night.”
“All right. I’ll see what I can do.”
Jean Larue was sitting in his carriage half-asleep, but as Leonie emerged from the clinic, he straightened up and pulled at his mustache. His bright blue eyes lit up, and he whipped off his cap, exposing his bald head. “Good morning, Mademoiselle. Where can I take you?”
“Oh, I’m just going to the market, Jean.”
“Get in. A young lady needs to go in style.”
Leonie got into the carriage and said, “Let’s go by the Barneses’ house, Jean. I want to check on the children.”
“Oui. I will take you there.”
They arrived at the Barnes home a few moments later, and Jean said, “Take your time. I’m not anxious to work much today.”
“All right, Jean.” Leonie dismounted, stepped to the pavement, and knocked on the door. Susan opened it and greeted her warmly. “You’re up early. Come in!”
“I can’t, Susan. I’m going to market. I thought perhaps you might need something.”
“No, but thank you for stopping. Why don’t you come for supper tonight?”
“Oh, I’ve promised to cook Dr. Sheffield a special dinner. He loves shrimp.”
Susan Barnes smiled and shook her head. “You’re getting good practice for marriage,” she observed. “You’re learning how to take care of a man.”
Leonie looked up quickly, embarrassed. “Well, I’ll be going. If I see anything particularly good, I’ll drop it off on the way home.”
“Thank you, dear. You’re always good to look out for us like that.”
Leonie got back into the carriage, and Jean said, “To the market now, I take it?”
“Yes. And hurry, if you please. I need to be back before the patients start coming in.”
The market was not busy, and Leonie made her purchases quickly. Jean had gone along with her, insisting on carrying the heavy parcels. Back at the carriage, Jean helped her in and seated himself. Suddenly the horse reared up, and he said loudly, “Stop that, you stubborn creature!”
“What’s the matter with him? That’s not your usual horse, is it?”
“No. My horse had a sore fetlock. I had to borrow one from my friend. This one is young and not ready to work. He thinks only of running. Stop that, you!”
Jean finally managed to pull the young horse around until he headed back toward the clinic. They had gone only a block when suddenly a bunch of youngsters ran toward them down the street, yelling happily. They were young boys who had obtained some firecrackers. They threw one with a yell, and it landed almost under the feet of Jean’s horse.
When the firecracker exploded, the horse uttered a wild cry, screamed, reared up, and then dashed down the street at full speed. Jean hauled at the reins, but the horse was strong and had the bit in his teeth.
Leonie tried to hold on, but when the wheel of the carriage fell into a large pothole, the jolt threw her to the side. She made a wild grab but missed her hold and was thrown abruptly out of the carriage. For her the world seemed to go around, and then as her head struck the hard cobblestone street, it seemed to dissolve in a shower of brilliant stars.
Ransom heard the sound of pounding feet in the outer office and looked up from the patient he was treating. The door burst open, and Jean Larue ran in, his eyes wild. “Doctor, come at once!”
“What’s wrong, Jean?” Ransom demanded. He headed for the door toward the older man and said, “Somebody hurt?”
“It is the Mademoiselle Leonie.”
“Leonie! What’s happened?” Ransom demanded.
“My horse, he ran away, and she was thrown. She struck her head on the pavement.”
“Where is she?”
“Outside in the carriage.”
Ransom did not ask more questions but dashed outside. He saw at once the wound on her head and her swollen face. Her eyes were closed, and she was pale. Quickly he reached in, picked her up, and shoved Jean aside. Going into the office, he told the patient, “Just take two spoons of that medicine every day, then come back in a week. I’m sorry, but right now I’ve got to tend to this young woman.”
Placing Leonie on the table, he quickly examined her injuries. She seemed to have no broken bones, but the head injury troubled him. It looked serious, and he said, “Jean, do you know where Dr. McDowell’s office is?”
“Oui, I know him.”
“Go at once,” he said. “I need him here immediately. Don’t take no for an answer. Then get Lady Augustine here.”
“I bring him, you bet!”
“Dr. Sheffield—is he hurt?” Maria asked.
“No, it is not him. It is the young lady Leonie. She has had a bad accident.” After delivering McDowell to the clinic, Jean had raced to the Augustine estate.
At once Maria Augustine jumped to her feet. “What happened?” She listened as the cab driver explained the accident. He spoke rapidly and nervously and said, “The doctor, he says you come quick!”
Dr. Jamie McDowell stood looking down at the pale face of the patient. He leaned over, examined the head injury, and said nothing.
Ransom could not keep still. He desperately wanted to help Leonie, but he knew that McDowell was a far more experienced doctor in cases like this. “What do you think, Doctor?”
“You know these cases as well as I.”
“No, I don’t. What’s your opinion?”
McDowell was a small man of Scottish descent. He had a full set of side whiskers, and his eyes were green. “I wish we could look inside her skull and see. Someday we may be able to do that, but for now,” he said, looking down at Leonie, “it’s in God’s hands.”
“I wish we could do something! It’s hard to just stand here.”
“I know, lad. This young lady—is she your fiancée?”
“Why, no. What makes you ask?”
“You’ve lost your calm spirit. It’s easy to see you have feelings for her.”
“I have a great respect for her.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes. She’s had a hard life, and I would like to make it easier.”
“Well,” McDowell said, shrugging his thin shoulders, “again, it’s in God’s hands.”
“I may be some time, Julius. You’ll have to wait.”
“Yes, Madam, I will be here.” Julius helped his mistress down and said, “You tell the young lady I’ll be praying for her.”
“I’ll tell her that.”
Maria reached the door just at the same instant that a woman in a habit arrived. The two paused. “You go first, please,” Maria said.
“You are Lady Augustine, are you not?”
“Why, yes I am.”
“I am the reverend mother at the convent.”
“You’ve come about Leonie.”
“Yes, I have.”
“So have I. Perhaps we could go in together.”
The two women entered, and Dr. Sheffield met them. “Reverend Mother, Lady Augustine, I’m glad you could come, both of you.”
“How is she, Doctor?” the mother superior asked quickly.
“Not as well as we’d like.”
“How badly was she hurt? What’s her condition exactly?” Lady Augustine asked.
The two women listened as Ransom Sheffield described Leonie’s fall and injury. He took a deep breath, and they saw how serious he was. “Head injuries are always more difficult than any other kind. She’s been unconscious since she was brought in. I’ve had another doctor in who is very good in such cases. He’ll be back later this afternoon.”
“Could we see her?”
“Of course. I’ll take you to her.”
The two women followed Ransom Sheffield into an inner room. Leonie lay on a single narrow bed with a blanket over her, her bandaged head resting on a pillow. Lady Augustine whispered, “She looks so pale.”
“We’re doing everything we can,” Ransom said, then added bitterly, “which isn’t much, I’m afraid. These cases are very hard.”
“We’ll sit with her while you treat your other patients, Doctor,” the mother superior said.
“That’s kind of you. If you see any change, please come for me at once.”
“Of course.”
As soon as Sheffield left, the two women sat down in chairs next to Leonie’s bedside. The room was silent, and finally the mother superior said, “Leonie was with us from the time she was born.”
“Yes, I know.”
“She is your granddaughter, I understand.”
Lady Maria hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. It’s a very complicated story.”
“I think I know most of it. Leonie told me. When she discovered her identity, I was very happy for her. I was the one who found her, you know.”
“You?”
“Yes. She was left at the convent, and I discovered her that morning. Somehow it made me feel closer to her. In all of the years that she was growing up, I did the best I could for her.” She looked down at the silent young woman and whispered, “She has always been such a fine girl. A fine child at first and then an exemplary young woman. The best that I have ever known.”
“I haven’t known her long, but I had the same impression. But—” Maria bit her lip. “I don’t know how much you know about the problem we had.”
“I think I know most of it. She told me the story.”
“I’ve been so disturbed about it, Reverend Mother,” Lady Maria said. “She seems such a sweet child, so much like her father, Ives. He had a sweetness himself, but then—”
“I know the story, but I don’t believe a word of it.”
Lady Maria stared at the nun. “But we have evidence.”
“And I have Leonie. I’ve know her all her life. Such a thing as she’s been accused of, it is not possible.”
Lady Maria did not answer. Finally she bowed her head. The mother superior started to speak, but then she reconsidered. She had learned that the power of conscience often had more impact than the spoken word of another. She prayed silently, “Work on her, God. Let her see that this child is not what she thinks.”
Ransom came often into the room and once brought Dr. McDowell with him. The two physicians removed bandages from the wound and reexamined and redressed it. Dr. McDowell turned to the two women and said, “There’s little change. I think it’s a time for prayer.”
The mother superior asked, “Would you object if we prayed for her now?”
“No, certainly not,” Ransom said quickly.
“I think we should anoint her with oil, and then all four of us should agree in prayer.”
“Aye, that’s what the Bible says,” McDowell said.
“What kind of oil?” Ransom asked quickly.
“It doesn’t matter. Olive oil will do.”
“I’ll get some from the kitchen.”
In a few moments Ransom was back with a small bottle of olive oil. The reverend mother took the oil, let a few drops roll out on her palm, and then handed the bottle back. With her other hand, she dipped the tips of her fingers in, and walking over, she touched the head of the young woman and began to pray. It was not a formal prayer, but all three of those that gathered around the mother superior heard the pain in her voice.
Maria began to weep. She reached out and put her hand on Leonie’s head and held it there. She felt light-headed, and her knees felt weak, and when the woman ceased praying, tears were running down Maria’s face. She looked up at the three who were watching her closely. “She is of my blood. This is my granddaughter, and I love her. She must get well!”
The Mother superior said, her face beaming. “She is blood of your blood, and she needs you at this time. God will give her back to you. I know it!”