“What?” Ella said.
“Oh,” Francis tilted her head. “Is this the man Dr. Bradbridge talked about last Saturday? I knew you must have treated him.”
“Yes.”
“What does he suffer from?” Ella asked.
I stood up and started pacing in front of them as I listed the problems I could not fix. “He has a damaged liver and jaundice. He is plagued by a constant itch, his limbs are swollen, his skin yellow, and now he has three large bedsores. His wife, Mrs. Hughmen, is exhausted and malnourished. She is also trying to care for a son.”
“There’s a child?” Ella said.
I stopped pacing and dropped into my seat. “Yes.”
Ella set her tea down. “How can we help?”
I jumped back up and handed Ella a calling card with the Hughmens’ address written on the back. “Call an emergency meeting, ask the women what they can contribute: money, clean sheets, food, children’s clothes, or time to watch her child and husband or clean and cook for them. Or if they know of a job possibility.”
“Does she not work?”
“Her employment is in jeopardy after her mistress heard the rumor that Mr. Hughmen is a drunk from one of the Bradbridges.”
“Sakes alive.” Francis shook her head.
“If anyone has heard anything about drinking, tell them it’s not true.” I turned to leave.
“Where are you going now?” Ella asked.
I turned back. “I’m going to speak with Margaret.”
“Why?” Francis asked.
“I’m hoping I can persuade her to speak to her husband regarding certain medicines.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Emeline,” Ella said.
“Margaret probably has even less sympathy for this man than her husband,” Francis added.
“I don’t see any other possible solution.”
“Perhaps you should ask Olivia.” Ella lifted her chin.
“Pardon?”
Francis squinted at her mother and then her eyes popped open. “Yes, you should.”
“Why?”
“I’m afraid I cannot say,” Ella said. “But I think she may be inclined to assist you.”
They didn’t know my past with Olivia Urswick, but I told them I’d consider it.
I went to Margaret’s house next. She invited me to sit and then scowled at me as her servants brought tea and peppermint cakes.
“I wanted to thank you for attending our little engagement.”
“Pleasure.”
“I also wanted to apologize for my behavior.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. I was disrespectful, and it was not my place. I hope you and your husband will forgive me.”
She simpered and sank out of her tense posture. “Of course, dear. You just got away from yourself, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” I squeezed my gloved hands.
“It’s too bad Miss Urswick can’t be counted upon to remedy the damage from her actions.”
I couldn’t believe her. She was the one who had attacked first and in such an obvious manner that even her own son had looked furious with her behavior. “I also am here to ask for your guidance.”
“Perhaps you should consider more bed rest.”
I ignored her. “The church committee is trying to help a man who is dying.”
“The committee doesn’t do charity.”
“They do now.”
She raised her chin. “I knew that committee wouldn’t last long without me.”
“I have just come from Mrs. Grace. She’s calling an emergency meeting.”
“And?”
“The committee can only do so much. They cannot relieve the man of his horrendous agony.”
“He needs to be seen by my husband, not by committee women.”
“The church committee can’t get anything like medicine.” I placed my teacup and saucer on the table. “But you can.”
Margaret squinted with her left eye.
“Perhaps you could ask your son to donate something.”
“If they need medicine, they need to pay to be seen by my husband or son.”
“You won’t even try?”
“My husband would never.” She turned her nose up.
“Then take it.”
“Bite your words.” She rose from her seat a little.
“I could tell you exactly what he needs. Please.”
She straightened and stood. “How dare you?” Her teeth could crack walnuts. “What kind of little weasel are you?”
I stood, too. “How can you have no sympathy? Are you really that ugly inside?”
Her eyes widened and her lips snarled. She stalked from the seating area, and I stomped after her. She stopped at the parlor threshold and thrust a pointed finger toward the door. “You need to leave, immediately.”
I brushed past her and out the front door. I scuttled down her steps and panicked as I walked away. How could I help Larry now? Ella and Francis had suggested Olivia, but why? Why would she ever help me? Was it because of how much she hated Margaret? I still didn’t know if Olivia was the one hunting me with Walter. If I asked her and they were scheming together, she’d turn me in. She had to be conspiring with him. Why else had he gone to her house that day? Why else would they have hidden that they knew each other in public? I remembered why we first met, how Walter had recommended she sit with me during my bed rest. That meant they knew each other before I had become Mrs. Freeman. I thought of following Walter to her house and the way they acted at the dinner party, how he’d scowled when his mother insulted her. Then I knew.
Olivia opened her own door. “Emeline?”
“May I come in?”
“Of course. I should thank you for an entertaining evening the other night.”
I stepped in and stopped in the hallway. “I’m sorry I must be quick.”
“Are you all right? You seem shaken.”
“I’ve come from the Bradbridges’.”
“Ah.” She crossed her arms. “What is it?”
“There is a man—dying and in agony. Dr. Bradbridge refuses to give him medicine for the pain.”
“Is this the man you defended at dinner?”
I sighed. “Yes.”
She grinned. “What can I do?”
“He needs medicine to relieve the pain, and no one can acquire it without the aid of a physician.”
“What do you expect me to do?”
I hesitated. “You can get the medicine.”
She drew back, shaking her head.
“You can get Dr. Bradbridge’s support.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Dr. Walter Bradbridge, I mean.”
She stepped back.
“I know you know him.”
She put her hand up. “I met him at your party.”
“Walter recommended you to care for me when I was bedridden. He had to have known you, trusted you.”
“Everyone knows the Bradbridges.”
“Yes, but he didn’t recommend just anyone. He recommended you.”
She covered her mouth with her hand.
“I know if you ask, he will help us.”
She lowered her hand and hesitated. “I suppose I’ve been caught.”
My stomach tightened.
Her body relaxed, as if she were relieved. “I am not one to hide, but he actually cares what his father and witch of a mother think. Obviously, they don’t think much of me.”
My stomach leapt.
“Normally, I would never stand for such foolishness, but when you care for someone…”
“You can get the medicine?”
She shifted her weight. “His father’s opinion means a lot to him. I don’t know if he’ll go against it.”
“His father never has to know about his involvement. We just need the medicine. Will you try?”
“I’ll try.”
I rushed back to the Hughmens’, but when I arrived, I found Ethel weeping at the top of the stairs.<
br />
I ran and knelt in front of her. “What is it?”
She motioned to the closed door.
I scrambled to the door expecting to find Larry Hughmen’s mangled corpse, yellow and pink. I clasped the doorknob and heard commotion. Confused, I quickly turned the knob and pushed. I gasped. Nearly every single woman from the church committee was inside, cleaning, cooking, washing clothes. Larry had clean sheets and fresh blankets. He had been bathed, and a woman knelt next to him, cleaning his scratches, while another applied fresh bandages to his bedsores. One woman stirred something in a pot on the stove. Another struggled with Jacob, trying to put a shirt on him but unable to pry his hands from a very real little toy horse.
Francis noticed me standing in the doorway and came over with her hands outstretched. “Isn’t it amazing?”
“I—”
“Mrs. Hughmen”—Francis took Ethel’s hands—“come get something to eat.”
“Thank you.” Ethel wiped away her tears.
Ella glided to me.
“This is a miracle,” I said.
“We have all planned shifts and will help the Hughmens as long as they need us.”
“Really?”
Francis returned. “And there’s more.”
“More?”
“This is an urgent need in Labellum.”
“What is?”
“People like the Hughmens,” Ella said. “After seeing this family and after learning what you do, we decided we want to help you—the committee, that is.”
“But I thought—Mr. Coddington and the physicians—”
“They are arresting people who practice medicine without a license. We can’t perform medicine, but we can still help those who are ill along with their families. We’ll offer aid, cooking, cleaning, education on homecare and hygiene, and whatever else we can. We can do this within the law. Mr. Coddington can’t scare off a committee, not when we know we are within our rights.”
“I—I feel faint.” I staggered, and Ella and Francis grabbed my arms.
“Is she all right?” a male voice asked from the open doorway.
“She’s just a little surprised,” Ella said.
I regained my composure and saw Walter wearing a dark suit and vest. He carried a leather case, and Olivia stood next to him. He immediately spotted Larry and walked to him with his professional gait as the women moved away. Ethel rose and moved with the others. Walter knelt next to Larry, studied his eyes and felt his heartbeat.
Larry whispered something.
“What?” Walter leaned over and listened. His serious expression suddenly changed and his composure gave way to laughter.
We stood silently as Walter inspected Larry. Finally, Walter lifted his head and spotted Ethel. I imagined he knew who she was because of her puffy eyes. He stood and approached her. “My deepest apologies. My father’s diagnosis was accurate.”
Ethel’s eyes glistened.
He put a hand on her shoulder. “I will do everything in my power to make sure he is comfortable.”
“You mean pain medicine?”
“Of course.”
She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest, and Walter hugged her back.
While Walter gave Larry morphine and examined Ethel and Jacob, Ella landed on Olivia like a hawk and told her about the plans they had for the committee and how she and Walter could help.
As Walter started to leave, I stopped him. “Thank you so much, thank you,” I said.
“I am happy to do it.”
“But your father?”
“I’m not my father, but I’d appreciate it if this is kept quiet.”
“Of course, of course.” I feared saying more in case he suspected me, but I hoped the committee was enough of a disguise. Any of the members could have been Mrs. Freeman now. “You have done so much, but could I possibly ask one last thing?”
“Go on.”
I moved in close to him so no one would hear. “Your father said the only cause of this condition is drinking. The accusation is so shameful for Mrs. Hughmen and her family. She’s about to lose her employment. I know it is a horrible thing to ask, but could you possibly—lie to her?”
He pulled back. “No need to lie.”
“Pardon?”
“Drinking isn’t the only cause of liver disease.” Walter didn’t whisper.
“What?” Ethel cried out, clenching her skirts.
Walter straightened and spoke to her directly. “And drinking oneself to cirrhosis isn’t an easy task to hide from a wife and child. If you never saw your husband drink, I highly doubt that was the cause.”
Ethel staggered to him, grabbed his hands and put them to her face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
He took her hands in his. “Contact me if you need anything else, anything at all.”
“Thank you, doctor. Thank you.”
He and Olivia left together as they had arrived, and no one said a word about it.
I stayed for a while to help and sit with Larry. Eventually, everyone quieted down and Ethel and Jacob fell asleep next to him. He was awake, though, and on his thin lips was the slightest of smiles.
“How do you feel?” I asked.
“Ha. I’m dying.”
“If I could—”
“I don’t mind.” He gazed at his sleeping wife and child, Jacob clutching his tiny horse. “I don’t want to leave them, but at least I know they’ll be taken care of.”
I held back my tears and refused to think of my father. “We’ll make sure of it.”
“I know.”
“The committee is amazing.”
He motioned for me to lean in closer. “I hear you told that old docta what’s what. That’s what I call amazin’.”
I chuckled, slightly embarrassed.
“Finally, you laugh.”
I gave in and giggled.
“Thank you for what you’ve done for my family. These women may have made the difference, but you told them how to get here.”
My eyes watered.
“Don’t get moist over me.” He moved his eyes to Ethel. “I’ll be fine. They’ll be fine.”
Thirty-Seven
October 1901
I cried all the way home. I was happy, sad, grateful, mournful, relieved, and in misery over everything Larry and my father had experienced and everything they wouldn’t. Toward the end of my journey, however, my tears gave way to rejoicing as I thought of what the committee was going to do for the town. By the time I arrived home, I was giddy. Then I saw Lottie sitting on my front steps. I hopped off the surrey and ran to her.
She jolted, thrown by my glee.
“Lottie, you will not believe what happened. I asked Francis and Ella to help Ethel. They got the entire church committee over there cleaning and cooking.” I was practically jumping, my hands flailing. “And Olivia Urswick!”
Lottie’s eyes widened.
“She got Walter over there. He gave Larry medicines and told everyone that drinking didn’t cause the disease.”
“How?”
“Well, they’re kind of—you know—courting?”
Lottie looked flabbergasted.
My exhilaration vanished as I remembered our argument. “Uh. I’m sorry. I’m just so happy.”
She waved her hand.
“I apologize for the other night.”
She shook her head. “It was me.”
“But you never came back.”
Lottie shifted her weight back and forth from one foot to the other. “I’m in trouble.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m with child.”
“What?”
She crossed her arms and turned her back to me. “I can’t have another. I shouldn’t a had the last one.”
“I—I’m…” I reached for her hand.
She pulled back and then looked up at the sky. I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or to God. “I have no money for food. I can’t pay for ’em, I can’t watch ’
em. I don’t have enough love. My body don’t have a thing left.” After having so many, Lottie had every reason to fear she wouldn’t survive another. She spun around and grabbed my arms. “Emeline, I need you to get rid of it.”
“What?” I pulled away.
“Get rid of it.”
“No.”
She covered her trembling lips.
“I won’t do that. I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“You heard everything at that dinner. You know what could happen.”
“Women do it all the time.”
“I don’t even know how to.”
“Please.”
“Lottie, women die when physicians do that. Think of Annie.”
“She turned out fine. I know women who survive doin’ it themselves.”
“Then do it yourself.”
“Believe me, I tried. I tried hot drinks, hot baths, violent exercise.” She slapped her hands to her sides. “I jumped off a chair. I tried to roll down stairs, but nothin’. I know women have done it with an instrument, but I can’t. I—I’m too—”
“Lottie, please. Don’t ask this of me.”
“Emeline.” She grabbed my arms again. “I know they say it ain’t right by God, but some say if it’s before it starts moving, before it’s alive…” She breathed hard, pushing the air out of her lungs forcefully. “I know it ain’t right by law, but if I don’t get rid of it, even if I live through it again, I ain’t ganna be able to care for it or the rest of my babies. How is that right by anythin’?” She released me.
I thought of what Daniel had said about a life at stake. My father had said I would know whether it would or wouldn’t be a sin, but I didn’t know.
She put her hands together in praying fashion. Her face scrunched and her eyebrows dipped. “Please do this. Please. For my babies. For me. If you won’t help me, I’ll find someone who will. I’ll risk it.” She fell to her knees. “Please. Please, Emeline.” She folded over and sobbed into her hands.
I clasped my hands over my mouth. She was my dearest friend. Ever since I found her in the woods, I wanted to help her, rescue her. She had helped me so much. I owed her so much. I took a deep breath. Could I really stand by and watch her go through a pregnancy that would surely kill her? Could I really say no when she might go to some hack who would do who knows what to her? It was a horrible, terrible thing, but doing nothing would be worse. I took a deep breath, and picked Lottie up off the ground.
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