Late in the afternoon, at suppertime, Bart came in accompanied by Riley. After greeting them, Gail said, “Have you seen Jeb?”
Evasively the two looked at each other. “Uh . . . I seen him earlier. He was with Tug Devaney,” shrugged Bart.
Tug Devaney was the ringleader of the gang that Jeb had been running with lately. Gail questioned them further and finally Bart mumbled, “I guess he might be down at the pool hall.”
At once, Gail rose, saying, “I’ll go see if I can find him and bring him back for supper.”
She left the building and quickly walked the few blocks to the pool hall—a disreputable-looking hangout for the toughs of the neighborhood. When she walked inside, she was greeted with whistles and rude remarks. Back in the far corner, she saw Jeb. He had a pool cue in his hand and a cigarette in his lips. The sight of him like that wrung Gail’s heart. She let none of her dismay show. “Jeb—I just got in! Come home for supper. I want to tell you all about Cuba.”
Devaney, a tall, thin individual with black hair and hazel eyes, grinned at her. “Hello, nursie! You want me to come along too?”
Gail ignored him and saw that Jeb was trying to act tough in front of the men he knew in the room. “Oh, you go on, sis. I’ll be there as soon as I finish this game.”
“All right.” Gail was wise enough to know not to make an issue. “Come as soon as you can.” She turned and made her way through the clouds of smoke that gathered around the pool tables. She was worried about Jeb and didn’t even seem to hear the whistles as she walked past. When she reached the front door, she looked back at Jeb, and a heaviness settled on her. Quickly, she left the pool hall and returned to the small apartment. Pearl had arrived by then and was eager to hear Gail’s stories about Cuba.
As soon as the simple meal was set out, they sat down and Gail asked a simple blessing. They had just started eating when the door opened suddenly and Jeb came in looking shamefaced. He slumped in his seat, expecting to be bawled out.
Looking up, Gail only said, “Here—I cooked this especially for you, Jeb. You eat and I’ll tell you about Cuba.”
The family sat there listening as Gail spoke of her time in Cuba. They all seemed drawn by the story of the war. Bart and Riley, who normally kept their distance, sat quietly as their stepsister spoke of the battle to take San Juan Hill, and the courage of the men she had met and had helped care for. They were full of questions, and Gail was pleased at the interest they seemed to take.
Later on, when it was time for Gail to leave to return to the hospital, she had a word with Jeb alone. She let her arm fall on his shoulder affectionately and said, “I’ve missed you, Jeb!”
“Well . . . I’ve missed you, too!”
Gail hesitated, and then said, “Now that I’m home, we’ll spend lots of time together. Aaron tells me he’s going to take you riding again. Would you like that?”
“I guess so,” said Jeb, shrugging his shoulders.
Gail sensed an adamant quality to his voice, and he held his back straight. She had seen this in many of the boys who grew up in the neighborhood. To fit in, they had to make it their aim to be tough. From what she had seen earlier in the pool hall, Jeb had fallen into the same trap. She said no more, but kissed his cheek and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Kissing her mother, she left and made her way back to the hospital. All along the way, she fought back the fears that rose within her. He’s turning into one of those tough, hateful boys. God, you’ve got to do something! The prayer was on her heart constantly for the next few days, and she knew that it would take God to change her brother’s life.
****
Davis and Belle had taken the next train from Virginia as soon as the letter had come from Lola telling them of the arrival of the troops. Now they were seated in the parlor with Mark and Lola, waiting for the arrival of Lewis and Aaron. Davis said finally, “I’m grateful the war is over—but there are a lot of grieving families in this country. I’m wondering if it was worth it all.”
Shaking his head, Mark answered quickly, “You can’t think about that, Davis. Lots of people who lost their sons and loved ones asked the same thing about the Civil War.”
“All wars are the same to parents,” Lola spoke up. “No war is worth a son—or a husband or brother.”
“I think’s that’s right, Lola,” Belle nodded. She was wearing a pearl gray dress that fit her superbly, and a pair of matched pearls adorned her small ears. “Sometimes I think that if women ran the world, some of these foolish wars would never take place.”
Davis grinned at his wife’s view, lifting one heavy eyebrow with mock astonishment. “You’ve managed to run my life for a few years—now you want to run the whole country!”
Belle’s dark eyes sparked, and she answered pertly, “I could do better than some of the men who’ve made such a mess of things.”
“Better than William Randolph Hearst?” Davis asked. “With your son working for him, you’d better not let him hear you make such bold claims.”
“I think the man’s a pompous fool,” Belle said sharply. “I hope Aaron has sense enough to see that he’s only interested in using people and situations to make money and enhance his own overblown reputation. He’d do anything to sell another newspaper!”
Mark was also somewhat cynical about journalism as a profession. “I don’t think Hearst is any worse than Pulitzer or the rest of the lot. Most of them aren’t really interested in much except making money.”
Lola turned to her husband, saying sweetly, “How nice they aren’t as greedy as the railroad barons you work for.”
“That’s different,” Mark sputtered, taken aback a little at his wife’s comment. “At least the railroads perform a needed service. They move people and goods from one place to another. What does yellow journalism do for anyone? Hearst’s sensationalism just gets people all stirred up.”
“If those kinds of stories didn’t sell, Hearst would get into another line of business,” Davis said philosophically. A wicked light touched his mild eyes and he added innocently, “Maybe he’d go into bankrobbing or running a bawdy house in the Bowery.”
All three of the others stared at him, then burst out into laughter. “You have a strange mind, Davis,” Mark finally stated. “But you’ve probably put Mr. William Randolph Hearst in the proper perspective—” He broke off as a maid came in right then.
“Mr. Winslow, they’re here.”
At once the four rose and hurried to the foyer, where Lewis was being wheeled in by a young woman. Suddenly there was a whirl of tears and embraces as everyone greeted one another.
“This is my mother and father, Deborah.” Lewis beamed as they embraced him. “They’ve come all the way from Virginia to see Aaron and me. Dad, Mom—this is Deborah Laurent, the woman who saved my life.”
Deborah was not a young woman who was easily embarrassed, but Lewis’s introduction brought color to her cheeks. She’d only come out at Mark and Lola’s special invitation and Lewis’s insistence to meet his parents. “Oh, Lewis, don’t be foolish! I was just your nurse for a while.”
But Lewis was adamant in his praise of her to his entire family. The last two weeks had put some healthy color back in his cheeks, and he even had gained some of the weight he’d lost. The wound in his back had healed up nicely, so that his upper body was fine, though he still had gotten no feeling back in his legs. “Don’t listen to her!” he grinned. “I was in a blue funk and she sat beside me, I don’t know how many days, until she pulled me out. She may not look it, as little and as fragile as she is, but she’s as stubborn as a blue-nosed mule.”
At that, Deborah’s cheeks turned a bright crimson and she stared at him. Lewis laughed and went on to tell of how much she had cared for him right after he had been brought to the hospital. Belle Winslow went at once to the young woman and took her hand. “I can’t tell you how grateful we are for all that you’ve done for Lewis,” she said warmly. She was impressed by the girl, not with her beauty,
but with the serenity that seemed to surround her like a soft cloak. “You’ve got to tell me all about it. Come along now.”
“Wait a minute!” Davis protested. He came over and insisted on shaking Deborah’s hand. His smile was kind and he said, “You women can have your little talk, but after that you and I will have a little time, all right, Miss Laurent?”
“Of course, Mr. Winslow,” said Deborah, then she turned and followed Belle into the parlor.
All day, Deborah found herself the center of the attention of Lewis’s parents. More than once, Belle had come and placed her hand on Deborah’s arm and expressed her gratitude for all the young nurse had done to help Lewis. Deborah liked them both tremendously, and finally when she and Belle were alone, she said, “I really didn’t do that much for Lewis, but I’m glad he’s doing well.”
Belle was pouring tea into a bone-white china cup. When it was full, she handed it to the woman, then poured a cup for herself. Holding it, Deborah said, “He’s doing fine physically from the waist up, but there’s no improvement in the paralysis”—she hesitated momentarily, but then continued—”and it’s not only that that’s bothering me.”
Deborah had been receiving reports of Lewis’s condition through Aaron, who made it a point to stop by the hospital from time to time. One thing troubled her, and she finally looked at Belle and asked, “Is Miss Cates visiting him a lot?”
There was a moment’s silence and a noticeable hardness came over Belle Winslow’s face. Her lips drew together for a moment, then she shook her head and sighed. “She was here every day for the first week—taking Lewis off to some party, but it was a great deal of difficulty. She was always in a hurry to cart him off to introduce him to someone new. It was hard for him, because he couldn’t move easily in the chair. I could tell she was annoyed at it at times.” Belle hesitated, then went on. “We haven’t seen her lately.” Her candid words seemed to ring in the air, and Belle lifted her eyes to meet those of Deborah. The two women did not speak, but there was an instant communication between them.
“I’m sorry,” Deborah said finally. “He’s very much in love with her.”
“I doubt that,” Belle said, her voice crisp. “I think if any-thing good has come out of this, it’s that he finally has realized that Alice Cates is a superficial young woman.” She gave Deborah a straightforward look. “You’ve always known that, haven’t you?”
Deborah met Belle’s gaze and nodded slowly. “She’s a social butterfly. I think that’s fairly easy to see. Is Lewis very much hurt by it?”
“He was—but I think he’s slowly getting over it. I pray that he is,” Belle said. “He thinks a great deal of you. Please try to encourage him all you can.”
Finishing her tea, Deborah thanked Belle, and then went to talk with Lewis. She spent the entire afternoon visiting with him and trying to encourage him. She had a way of seeing the bright things of life that lifted Lewis’s spirit. At one point earlier in the day, Davis and Belle, who were watching them from a distance, heard them laughing over something. “That’s the first time I’ve heard him laugh like that,” Davis said soberly. “That girl’s good for him.”
“Yes, she is. Maybe she’ll be able to put that frightful Alice out of his mind. I could strangle that girl!” Belle’s eyes were alight with anger, and only when Davis put his hand on her arm did she manage to control herself. “We’ll have to invite Deborah here often and see that Lewis spends time with her. He needs to get out. It seems she has more influence over him than anyone else. . . .”
****
“Son, how about a walk? I need to stretch my aging legs.”
“Sounds good, Dad.”
The two men had been sitting in the study speaking of the war, but both of them were glad to step outside into the fresh air. Aaron had been busy spending a few days at the offices of the Journal. Since his return from Cuba, Mr. Hearst had kept him extremely busy writing a series of articles about his experiences in the thick of the battle.
The two of them walked slowly down the road that ran in front of Mark and Lola’s house. For a time they talked of trivial things, then Davis’s voice took a serious tone, and he asked, “What about you, son? Now that the war’s over, what’s on your mind? Any plans?”
“Right now my only plan is to stay with Lewis. Do you think we should take him home to Virginia?”
“I don’t know, Aaron. Your mother and I haven’t been able to make up our minds. Not just yet, I think.” Davis turned to him and said, “I’m glad you were with him, and I’m glad you’re going to stay with him, too.” He had a thought and said, “Mark’s got a small cabin in the upper part of the state. Nothing fancy, but you and I could take a few days off—just the two of us.”
“What about Lewis?”
“Why, he’s pretty taken up with that young woman. You and I haven’t had much time together lately. It’d do us good to get away. Let’s go—even if it’s just for a couple of days.”
“All right, Dad. I’d like that. Then I’ll come back and spend time with Lewis. I don’t know what good I’ll do him, but I’ll do the best I can.”
“Lewis says he’s going to be healed and that he’ll walk again,” said Davis.
“I know. But do you think so, Dad?”
“I’m not as sure of it as your mother seems to be,” Davis admitted reluctantly. “She thinks so! And so does that young woman—Deborah.”
“She’s something, isn’t she?” Aaron shook his head with admiration. “She never talks about herself much, but I’ve never seen a woman with so much grit. I don’t know about his healing, though. That sort of thing is out of my line.”
Davis Winslow looked at his son, admiring the strength in the face so much like his own. “Well, God is still in control, though I must admit things look hard for Lewis. But that’s all I have to hang on to for him. It’s out of the doctors’ hands, I think.”
“That’s what Dr. Burns says. But he’s praying too.” Aaron stopped suddenly and looked back toward the house. “It’s funny, Dad, the people I know and love the most believe in God. Why can’t I be like the rest of you?”
“The Winslow men are pretty stubborn. Most of them come to God the hard way. We talked about that at the reunion, remember? Some of us came kicking and screaming.” Suddenly, he laid his hand on Aaron’s shoulder and smiled. “You’ll come to know the Lord somehow. I don’t know what it will take, but I’m believing that Lewis will walk—and you’ll find Christ.”
Aaron looked at him. He would have thrown off the words at one time, but the war and Lewis’s wound had changed him—and the faith of two young nurses had changed him too. He dropped his eyes, studied the ground for a moment, then lifted his head. “That would be good,” he said. “Both of those things.” The two turned and walked toward the house, and Davis felt the sudden surge of happiness, for it was the first time that Aaron had spoken of becoming a man of faith.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
At Gunpoint
Gail was changing the bandage on an elderly patient when Dr. Templeton, the administrator, stepped inside the door. “Miss Summers, you have a visitor.”
Turning to face him, Gail asked, “A visitor, sir?”
“Yes, he’s waiting for you in my office.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll be right there.” Gail finished with the new dressing and pulled the sheet back over the patient, saying, “There—that’s better, isn’t it?” She left the room and made her way to Dr. Templeton’s office. When she entered, she found him speaking with a heavyset man with a bushy mustache. “Miss Summers, this is Lieutenant Darvin of the police department,” Dr. Templeton said. He shifted his weight nervously and said, “Why don’t you use that small office over there. You can have some privacy.”
The policeman turned to Dr. Templeton and said, “That will be fine.”
After they entered the room, Gail closed the door and asked at once, “What’s the trouble, Officer?” Apprehension suddenly rose in Gail as she waited to hear what thi
s was all about.
Darvin rolled back on his heels and clasped his hands behind him. He had a reddish face and dark blue eyes. “I’m afraid I have some bad news for you, Miss Summers. It’s about your brother.”
“Jeb? What’s wrong? Where is he?” said Gail.
“Well, that’s what we’d like to find out. We have a warrant out for his arrest along with some others. One of them is Tug Devaney. Do you know him?”
“Yes, but what’s the charge?” she asked nervously.
“Burglary, Miss Summers. They were caught robbing a warehouse. They all got away, but an eyewitness spotted them and identified Devaney and your brother. It happened right there in the neighborhood, so he knew them both.”
“I don’t think my brother would do anything like that,” Gail said defiantly.
“Well, I hope not, but we still have to pick him up. He’ll be charged, but since he’s a minor that will make a difference.”
“What could happen to him if he’s found guilty?” Gail asked hesitantly.
“Why, off to reform school, I’m afraid.” Darvin’s eyes narrowed and he said, “Would you be knowing where he is, Miss Summers? It’d be best if you tell me. There’s no trouble that way, but if he goes on the run it could turn out worse for him.”
“I haven’t heard from him, so I don’t know, Lieutenant.”
“I see—well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news. Let me know if you hear from him. It’d be best if he turned himself in!” Darvin nodded politely, and then turned and left the room.
At once, Gail sat down in the chair. Her legs were trembling and she tried hard to think. For a few moments she tried to pray. Finally she pulled herself together enough to leave the room. Dr. Templeton was standing outside in the hall, watching the policeman leave. Gail saw him and said at once, “I have some trouble at home, Doctor. I need to leave the hospital.”
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