The Thorn Bearer

by Pepper Basham

  Ashleigh squeezed her eyes closed at the threat to her dream. Was it too big a dream? Too impossible? Perhaps she could reduce her hours at the hospital to care for the children. Her shoulders slumped. But she couldn’t back out of her promise to David. Not when there was so much need.

  Fanny paused in her work and looked up at Ashleigh’s reflection in the mirror. “You’re looking for someone to tend the orphanage? Care for the wee ones?”

  “One diligent person to maintain the orphanage while I work should be sufficient for now. I’m only taking in a few children in the beginning, until we can secure a benefactor.”

  “I have someone in need of work, for tending the orphanage – and she’ll do it for room and board,” Fanny added, turning to tuck the bedcovers in for a neat, sleek appearance.

  Ashleigh rubbed her forehead to ease the constant ache. Perhaps she’d sleep tonight. Sleep came in short supply since Queenstown. Catherine’s return from London didn’t’ help either. She offered Fanny a tired smile. “Coincidentally, that’s all I can afford at present.”

  “Then I have one for you.” Fanny stood from her bent position over the bed and smoothed her hands down her apron. “My younger sister, Ruby.”

  Ashleigh turned from the mirror to face her friend. “The prostitute?” Even with her nursing experience, the word fumbled off her tongue.

  Fanny’s pert nod spoke of her confidence. “Desperate times forced desperate choices. She showed up on my doorstep three nights back, asking if I knew of anything proper and honest she could do. And she won’t take handouts.” Fanny’s gaze fixed on Ashleigh. “A chance is what she’s after. A solid chance to start over.”

  Start over? Ashleigh hesitated, weighing her response. “That’s asking me to put my reputation on the line – not to mention the safety of the children. How can I know she’s…trustworthy?”

  Fanny’s look turned intense, almost offended. No, how could Ashleigh ever question Fanny’s intentions? She’d protected Ashleigh from her father as much as she could, even taking a beating on occasion, but offering the services of a prostitute? Or former prostitute? For orphaned children?

  “Everyone needs an opportunity for redemption. To rise above their pasts, don’t you think?” Fanny’s gaze needled her into introspection.

  News would spread in this small village and tainted reputations stained good intentions. Ruby’s? Ashleigh’s? If people knew of her ruined past, no one would want her taking care of children, orphans or otherwise. The sweet refrains of the MayFest hymn rushed to mind. I triumph still if Thou abide with me.

  She turned back to her dressing table, the reflection of her dark eyes staring back in challenge. Her family lived a life of pretense. Her past stank of the scent. How was she any different from them if not in the hardest places? If God did abide with her, if she had any faith in His control and love, how could she not respond with mercy and…hope. She’d promised him her life if He would save Sam – and He had.

  “I would like to interview her first.”

  Fanny’s expression relaxed. “I can arrange it for any time you have free, Miss.”

  Ashleigh took a deep breath and forged her decision deeper. “The sooner the better. If she can be here Friday afternoon, I will see her.”

  Fanny stepped close and placed her hand on Ashleigh’s shoulder. “Would you be as gracious with your own past as you are with others?”

  Ashleigh lowered her gaze and picked at the bristles of her brush. “I’m afraid to try, Fanny.”

  Fanny squeezed Ashleigh’s shoulder. “Don’t believe the lies. Don’t allow your father to steal more from you, sweet child. Hasn’t he stolen enough? It’s time to let go and forgive.”

  Ashleigh shrugged off Fanny’s touch, the fire hidden deep fueled to flame by her words. “Don’t speak to me of forgiveness. I can never forgive what he’s done. He was a sick and twisted man, with a heart of stone.”

  “You are right. He was sick and broken, in his mind and soul. The guilt of his poor choices forced his evil to the surface in ways no one could have imagined.” She whispered out a soft Scottish prayer. “Ah lass, we all have the tendency to be as bloomin’ evil as we can without God’s work in our hearts.”

  “I could never be as depraved as him – and he doesn’t deserve forgiveness or mercy from me – in life or death.”

  Fanny folded her hands in front of her and narrowed her eyes. “Do you remember living here as a child, when your grandmother oversaw the workings of the house?”

  The sudden change in topic doused Ashleigh’s anger. “Yes, of course.”

  “She would have a Christmas Party unlike any other seen in Edensbury. Ten times better than Crafty Cavanaugh. The whole place was alive with light and laughter. The first year I was here, I thought I’d entered Heaven when I walked through the door at Christmas.”

  Ashleigh narrowed her gaze, feeling the well-intentioned needling presence of a point mingled in with Fanny’s tale. “Yes, it was marvelous.”

  “And everything in tip top order, make no mistake. Only the best of everything on display.”

  A grin soothed some of the previous tension on Ashleigh’s face. “As generous as Grandmama is, when it came to her parties, she expected perfection.”

  Fanny’s eyes glowed with her smile, a certain sign Ashleigh’s response fell right into her plan. “That’s right. Perfection. Nothing else would do, and the pressure was on to provide it.” Fanny paced forward. “So what if I was placing settings on the table and noticed two sets of napkins, ones with mild stains, hardly noticeable except in the right light – and then others covered with gravy stains I’d not been able to get out. Which napkins should I use for my place settings?”

  Ashleigh’s jaw tightened. “Neither is appropriate. Grandmama would never condone napkins with mild or severe stains being placed at her Christmas dinner. You know—” Fanny’s implication stole Ashleigh’s words.

  “God expects perfection for his Heaven and whether you like the sound of it or not, no one deserves his forgiveness or his mercy. Whether the sins are small or great, neither will do for His party in his House.” Fanny took Ashleigh’s hand in a gentle squeeze. “Your father doesn’t deserve your forgiveness, that’s a fact. But we don’t deserve God’s neither. In the light of his grace, we’re all sick, broken madmen.”

  Ashleigh stared into Fanny’s clear gray eyes, truth sinking deeper into the sponge of her conscience. She slumped into the chair, her thoughts wedged between pain and Fanny’s words. Oh no, she didn’t like it. Every aching ounce of grieving child within her screamed in protest.

  “The very man who should have protected my virtue stole it? Where was God?” The words squeezed from her throat in a harsh whisper.

  “Broken people do broken things, Miss Ashleigh. And their choices impact others. This world is a fallen place. But God lives among us. He’s been with you all along. He gave you a Grandmama who would show you the love of Christ. He brought you to a place in America, free from the ill effects of your father’s reputation here, so your family could start over. He sent Sam to you as a friend and protected you aboard the Lusitania. He’s made you smart, compassionate, and strong. Who knows if your zeal to save the lives of others would have been so fiery had it not been for your solid knowledge of what it felt like to be wounded?”

  Ashleigh panted against the sobs, holding them close. If she gave in to them, if she released her pain, what would be left of her? “But I can’t forgive him. I don’t know how.”

  “You start with prayer. A prayer for your father, and then you tell Sam the truth.”

  Ashleigh eyes grew wide, and she pressed her palm to her chest, breaths shorter. “No. No, I don’t think I can. I would gladly give him my heart, but not the truth. If he ever looked at me with the same disgust as Michael...” Ashleigh voice caught, vision blurring. “No good man wants soiled material for a wife. I am used goods – as sure as your sister.”

  “Each time you allow the past to hold your futur
e, your father steals more and more from you. Your bitterness of the past and fear of the future stifles you and all your dreams. Tell Sam the truth and be done with this wicked speculation.”

  “Tell him the truth? I already struggle with these unwholesome desires for him. I crave his kiss. Dream about it.”

  “Dear child, those aren’t unwholesome.” Fanny knelt before her. “God made you with those longings for the man you love.”

  Ashleigh shook her head. “No, Fanny. When he’s close to me, when he looks at me with this tenderness...” Her eyes squeezed closed and she pressed her fist into her chest. “An ache, a sweet ache of fire, burns here.”

  “Sweet heaven, Child, that fire is a part of God’s plan too. If you let the desires consume you before it is time, then they can burn you, but the longing within you for him is a special design. God even talks about it in His Word.”

  Ashleigh tried to process the new information with the hateful beliefs she’d responded to for months, if not years. Could it be true? Could this desire be…from God? For Sam? She couldn’t wrap her mind around it. Her parents never seemed to crave each other’s company, let alone affection.

  “If I tell Sam the truth, I risk losing his friendship along with his respect. If he knew?” Ashleigh shuddered. “Michael stripped me of the confidence. What if Sam rejects me too? I couldn’t bear it, Fanny. Sam is my dearest friend.”

  “You’re not giving Sam enough credit. He loves you and he’s a good man.” Fanny patted Ashleigh’s knee and stood. “If you love him as you say, you’ll tell him the truth and fear can’t haunt you anymore. You have a choice. Take hold of your future or the past will take it for you.”

  Catherine couldn’t curb her smile as she walked the hallway to her room. Her evening with Drew promised her prize drew close. Drew had asked her to meet him next week – for an evening at the theater. After his obvious slight in London, she’d thought her plans lay as dark and useless as their families dwindling funds, but his kisses in the alley of town reassured her. To give her such intimacy had to assure his affections, didn’t it? Would he propose under the moonlit sky? As a Cavanaugh, she’d regain her family’s standing in society, her mother’s respect, and outshine her sister so much their father would smile down from heaven.

  She deserved it for all her hard work, contriving meetings, sneaking Grandmama’s money from letters meant for Ashleigh or the estate, paying the proper compliments where they were needed, giving up Sam. Her stomach roiled in violent contradiction to her near success. Sam’s warning barbed into her conscience. Lots of things that sparkle leave burn marks behind.

  What if Drew didn’t propose? How could she secure his affection?

  Catherine’s footfall hushed against the worn Persian rug of the upstairs hall. One of the mercies of closing off the north and west wings of the house had been to move all the best furniture and tapestries to the east wing, but even those pieces spoke of their reduced circumstances. Her stomach curled along with her frown. No, her mother didn’t deserve this – and neither did she.

  Raised voices slowed her steps. She closed in on the door standing slightly ajar and made out Fanny’s words. “In the light of God’s grace we’re all sick, broken madmen.”

  God’s grace? Catherine rolled her eyes. Fanny spouted about little else, but God’s grace hadn’t served her at all. Stealing her family’s fortune and her father’s love. Besides, if God lived in the stuffy, emotionless church they attended, then she preferred to leave Him there. His heavy hand of judgment and joyless appraisal of the world didn’t interest her at all, and talk of his love? No, God didn’t want someone like her – and she certainly didn’t want Him. Her brow perked. Unless He could give her Drew Cavanaugh or a new life.

  Ashleigh mumbled part of her reply and Catherine stepped closer, listening.

  “The very man who should have protected my virtue stole it? Where was God?”

  The declaration sent Catherine’s thoughts into a problem-solving frenzy. Man who protected her virtue? Fanny droned on something more about God and creating Ashleigh as someone special. She stifled her sigh to hear Ashleigh’s response. “If he ever looked at me with the same disgust as Michael.” A pause followed. “No good man wants soiled material for a wife. I am used goods – as sure as your sister.”

  Soiled material? Used goods? Michael stripped me of confidence? Catherine’s eyes shot wide. That is the real reason behind Michael’s betrayal? Ashleigh had given herself to him and he’d found her wanting. Catherine’s grin inched up on one side. Her perfectly pure sister, a fallen woman? She licked her lips on the irony. Not even Catherine had gone as far as that. Close, but not all the way.

  Years of living in her sister’s glowing reflection, in hearing her mother’s platitudes of Ashleigh’s service and accomplishments, ground into a bitter trail of satisfaction at her newfound knowledge. Though an added sting of jealousy tripped her joy at her younger sister’s intimate experience first, this little weapon of truth certainly wouldn’t go wasted. If the need arose, and it probably would, she’d make wise use of her newfound knowledge to get what she wanted, or bring Ashleigh with her in the fall.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ruby Ramsey possessed the same confident air of her sister and the same mop of auburn hair, but the wear of her choices marked deeper lines than her age suggested. She couldn’t be over thirty. Maybe less, yet the pain and knowledge in those emerald eyes knew years of suffering. One broken soul recognized another. The woman’s gray dress, frayed at the edges, hung loose around a frame too slender for a healthy person. Her high, angled cheekbones reflected hunger and the dark swells beneath her eyes, grief.

  Ashleigh offered her hand. “Ms. Ramsey. Thank you for meeting with me.”

  The woman stared at Ashleigh’s hand and sent a quick glance back to her face, as if to make sure Ashleigh meant it. Oh what shame she must bear.

  Ms. Ramsey took Ashleigh hand in a stiff hold.

  Ashleigh gestured toward a nearby high back. “Would you please sit down?”

  “I’d prefer to stand if you don’t mind, Miss.”

  Ashleigh nodded, taking her behavior in stride, but keeping a watchful eye on all the wordless expressions of Ruby’s responses. Her pale face spoke of pain, physical pain, and she moved her body in a stiff manner – not the type of stiffness from confidence or pride, as she thought before – but of…soreness?

  Nausea swelled at the thought of Ruby’s reasons for soreness and a fresh wave of childhood memories nearly had Ashleigh excusing herself. Fanny’s words carved a new challenge in her mind. If she forgave her father, would this constant fight against the past subside? Or at least … lessen?

  “Very well.” Ashleigh took her seat behind the desk her father used to use, the irony not lost on her. In fact, the knowledge fueled her decision all the more to give Ruby Ramsey an opportunity. An opportunity to be seen beyond her past? “Your sister is a highly respected servant in our house, as well as a close family friend, and she has recommended you to assist me in the development of an orphanage. Is this your understanding?”

  “Yes, Miss.”

  “It is a new endeavor and will require hard work, lots of hard work and patience.”

  The woman stood taller. “I ain’t afraid of hard work. Been used to it my whole life.”

  “And patience?”

  Ashleigh thought Ruby might smile but she squelched it – no doubt an expert at hiding her feelings. “I could use a bit of work on that score. I ain’t got no patience for stupidity or harshness in adults, Miss, but for parentless babes, I have the patience of Job.”

  Stories of Fanny’s childhood supported Ruby’s comments. A father killed on the streets during a drunken brawl, a mother who gave herself out to men in order to purchase food for the children – and how she later died of consumption, leaving five orphans of various ages.

  “I will need someone who can conduct care and business with the utmost discernment, discretion, and honesty. Are you prepared
to leave your previous…employment and have nothing else to do with the patrons or facilities in which you…” Ashleigh groped for appropriate wording. “Conducted your business?”

  “Completely and wholeheartedly, Miss.” Ruby took a step forward, eyes agleam with hope, adding a touch of beauty to her hollow face. “I would like nothing better than to leave everything in my past behind and start brand new.”

  Ashleigh smiled. Ruby’s determination matched hers. “Very well. We shall begin with a trial, of sorts.” Ashleigh stood, the cool room adding a chill to the one inside her. “Should I call you Miss Ramsey? Or Miss Ruby?”

  “I should like you to call me by my middle name, if you would. It might cause less of a stir, Miss.”

  Ashleigh’s smile grew. Didn’t Jesus give people new names when their lives changed? A new name – a new beginning? “And what might that be?”

  “Kara.”

  “Very well, Miss Kara.”

  The woman almost smiled at the sound of her new name, and it made her look years younger–and healthier.

  “We will begin work in the hospital’s east wing until I have secured our own building. In the meantime, I will set you up with a room at the hospital starting this very night.”

  The woman’s smile bloomed full and lovely, transforming her face. Ashleigh felt lighter at the gift she’d given. Hope dangled another fragile carrot before her and she chased it. She wouldn’t be completely free until Sam knew the truth, but for now, she’d cling to what she had. Hope.

  “I’m more grateful than I can say and I won’t disappoint you, Ma’am.”

  “I wouldn’t expect it. Now, starting tomorrow you will begin helping me ready the wing for our new charges. One of my nursing friends has spread the word of our new facility and I’ve already received a few letters from overcrowded facilities who need some relief.”