Loving Bella (15 page)

The statement could mean a number of things, but the sympathy in Mr. Wilson’s eyes eroded any delusion on Shane’s part of a father keeping tabs on a beloved son. Whatever the reason Peter Ford had monitored Shane’s progress through the years, it had not been out of love.

Shane drew in a sharp breath, jerked his knee up and down in agitation. He relaxed only when Bella’s hands smoothed over his hair.

“I still don’t understand why you’re here now?” he said once he had his control back in place.

“I have come to explain your father’s will to you.”

“His what?” Shane jumped up so fast the stool went tumbling behind him. Bella’s touch to his arm kept him from rushing forward.

“Go on, Mr. Wilson,” she said for them both. “Tell us the rest.”

“Dr. Bartlett, your father left you everything.”

Shane let out a bitter laugh as he batted away the declaration with a contemptuous wave of his hand. “Impossible.”

“It’s true.” The solicitor pushed a mountain of papers toward Shane. “However, there is a stipulation.”

“Of course.” Shane curled his lip in derision. But then he remembered the others. “My father had a wife, and two daughters. Did he leave his family nothing?”

“My client’s wife died several years ago. As for his daughters,” Mr. Wilson’s eyes turned sad, making Shane wonder what the man’s life had been like in constant service for a man like Peter Ford, “they receive nothing of your father’s estate.”

Nothing?
Peter Ford’s daughters, daughters raised in the height of privilege, would get nothing from their father? Shane struggled with the ugly realization of their instant poverty, fought to close his heart to what that meant. But he could not. He had two sisters left destitute. What kind of monster had his father been? “How old are they now?”

“Drusilla is fourteen, Elizabeth only ten.”

“Who is caring for them? Where are they living? How are they taking this change in their circumstance?” He fired off the questions like bullets from a six-shooter.

Mr. Wilson took a bracing breath of air. “They are residing in my home at present, but not in the style they have previously known. With four daughters of my own, and my largest client dead, I am a man of limited means.”

Stunned at yet another unexpected revelation, Shane readjusted his first impression of the man. Of course, now
that he was the sole heir of his father’s estate, he would have to decide what to do about his sisters. He would…

He would…

A burst of confusion took hold of him. There was too much information coming at him all at once. He needed air, needed a moment to think and organize his thoughts. He started for the door, but Bella stopped him.

“Shane, wait. The stipulation.” She gave him a meaningful look. “You have to listen to the rest.”

Shane halted, spun to glare at Mr. Wilson. “What is the stipulation?”

“The details are spelled out in your father’s will.” The solicitor pointed to the pile of papers he’d set on the table. “You should read every page carefully for yourself.”

Shane waved a dismissive hand. “Summarize the important points.”

Mr. Wilson sighed. “In order to receive your inheritance, you must legally change your name to Ford, return to New York and take on your role as your father’s rightful heir.”

The air in the room turned cold, heavy, closed.

Shane swallowed. “And if I refuse my inheritance? Will my sisters receive the money in my place?”

Mr. Wilson shook his head. “If you refuse, the entire estate will be sold and the proceeds will be distributed to Harvard Medical School for the sole purpose of research.”

Bella gasped. “Are you saying the money won’t even go to charitable organizations?”

“Not a penny.”

With that simple statement, any remaining hopes
Shane might have had about his father’s motives disappeared. Peter Ford had been a selfish, cold-blooded man in life, and was proving no better in death. And this time, with one swoop of the pen, the ruthless snake had found a way to control them all from his grave.

B
ella had heard enough, but before she could expel the solicitor, Shane straightened to his full height and forced out a hard breath. “I think you should leave, Mr. Wilson. I need time to sort through everything you’ve told me.”

With each word spoken, Shane held himself rigid, his gaze locked on the solicitor like a hunter eyeing his prey. His breathing wasn’t quite steady and he looked upset. Bella went to him, touched his back. No, not upset, she decided. Furious. She could feel the rage in the bunched muscles below her palm.

“Mr. Wilson,” she appealed, employing all the charm she could muster under the circumstances. “The doctor is only asking you to allow him the opportunity to study his father’s will, as you yourself suggested a moment ago.”

The solicitor lifted his left eyebrow the barest frac
tion but, mercifully, his eyes held a considerable amount of compassion in them. “I suppose a few days will make no difference one way or the other.”

“Thank you for your understanding,” she said, removing her hand from Shane’s shoulder.

A muscle in his jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth. She could tell he was trying to contain his rage but the threads of his control were unraveling with every heartbeat.

With swift movements, Bella helped the solicitor gather his belongings and ushered him toward the door.

Hand poised above the knob, Mr. Wilson peered over his shoulder at Shane. “I will return Tuesday afternoon, if that meets with your satisfaction.”

“Tuesday will be fine,” he said.

Wanting the man gone, Bella placed a solicitous hand on the man’s arm. “I thank you again.”

After closing the door with a click, Bella took a long, slow, careful look around her. With so much information to take in, she decided to give Shane another moment to cool his anger. Flexing her fingers, she walked to the table where Shane’s copy of the will sat. Unable to relinquish her awful fascination, she stared at the top page but the letters snaked into blurry, incomprehensible lines before her eyes.

Outraged on Shane’s behalf, she lifted her gaze to his and found herself confronted with cold disdain. Even knowing his fury was not directed at her, she quickly lowered her head.

He’d held so much bitterness toward his father before this.
How will he find peace now, Lord?

With legs that felt full of water, she made her way across the room. “Shane?”

Unblinking, he stared over her head. His stone-cold expression worried her. Why wasn’t he ranting, yelling, showing some emotion,
any
emotion?

At last, his eyelids tapered to tiny slits. “He never accepted me.”

She knew he meant his father. “He’s left you his entire estate.”

Shane gave one hard shake of his head. “With impossible limitations attached.”

“Perhaps he thought he was doing the right thing.”

Scowling, he pushed forward. His expression held the regret of a man who knew he would never achieve what he wanted most in life. “I was not a son to him. Even now, he only wants his name to live on through me.” He clenched his jaw. “I was never able to earn his love.”

In spite of his anger, Bella didn’t miss the agony in his eyes, or the pain in his voice. “I don’t have any fine words for you. And I don’t have any answers. But I can steer you to my mother’s favorite verse, one that has held me up in times of despair.”

She hurried to the small round table next to one of the sickbeds in the room and retrieved the Bible Shane kept there. Her fingers shaking, she flipped to Isaiah 40 and began to read. “But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”

Shane furrowed his brow as he joined her. For a long
moment he stood next to her, unmoving, while he stared at the page. With an incomprehensible mutter, he took the Bible and concentrated on the passage she indicated with her finger.

Bella waited for him to speak. A dozen platitudes came and went in her mind.
Oh, Lord, if ever there was a time for the right words, this is it. Please guide what I say.

“Shane, God’s love is unfailing and unconditional. You might not have earned your earthly father’s love but you will always have your Heavenly Father’s love.”

Unflinching, he stared at the page.

She touched his arm. “It’s no accident God brought you here. The Lord will use this experience for good. He’s been preparing you for a specific assignment all along. Remember, most of the children at Charity House have been abandoned by their fathers, just like you.”

And still, he stared at the Bible. The only sign of his turmoil came in the fast ticking of a vein in his neck.

“Shane.” She shook his arm. “What would your patients do if you weren’t here? You yourself said no other doctor will see them. Who would care for them if not you? God had a plan for you from the start.”

Closing his eyes a moment, Shane shut God’s Word and returned it to the nightstand. “If I stay…” He pressed a finger to his temple. “What happens to my sisters?”

She gave him an overbright smile. “You could send for them.”

“And how would I care for them?” He looked around him in disdain. “I can barely afford these rooms.”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Maybe—”

“Don’t you understand?” His eyes hardened. “Peter Ford knew what he was doing when he put that stipulation in his will. He
knew
he was leaving me in an impossible situation.”

“I—”

“If I stay here, continue as I always have, I abandon my sisters in the care of a stranger, one who readily admitted his funds are running low. Yet if I return to New York, I abandon my patients here.”

Bella had no good argument. She had no answer at all. He was correct. Completely, utterly, miserably correct. A fresh spurt of defeat tickled her throat, but she would not allow Peter Ford to win that easily. “There’s an answer, Shane. God already knows what it is. We just have to pray He’ll reveal it to you soon.”

After a brooding hesitation, Shane nodded. “Perhaps God does have a plan.”

Despite his words, Bella saw the skepticism in his eyes. Shane wasn’t agreeing with her. He was appeasing her.

Under the circumstances, there was only one thing left for her to do. She closed her eyes and began praying on his behalf.

At half-past eight the next morning, Bella threw out every lofty ideal she’d spouted to Shane in his office. She might have spoken of the power of prayer and the need to believe God already had a solution, but when it came to her own life she lacked the courageous faith she expected of Shane.

Some Christian she was turning out to be.

Oh, she knew all the right words, had memorized countless Scriptures, but when it came to her own troubles her actions had yet to reflect her beliefs. And as James said, what was faith without deeds?

Unwilling to have a lengthy conversation with Beau this morning, she silently tiptoed to the back door and found herself halting at a soft plea from behind. “Bella, please, don’t run away like this.”

Bella spun around, her eyes landing on Hannah standing stiffly in the kitchen doorway. Bella opened her mouth to rail at the unsolicited interference, but the genuine concern in her sister-in-law’s eyes made the words back up in her throat. “Hannah, I’m not—”

“Don’t deny it.” Hannah glided closer. “Not to me.”

Bella lowered her gaze to her toes. “I
must
check on Lizzie. It’s been two weeks since I’ve been able to spend any time with her.” She lifted her gaze. “I fear I’ve failed her.”

“What of your other fear?”

Thanks to years of training, Bella mastered her emotions enough to give her reply without her voice shaking. “I have no other fear.”

Brows knit tightly together, Hannah took a few steps forward and held out two more letters. “These came for you last week, the last one just yesterday.”

Bella saw the familiar scrawl on the top envelope and backed up as though it were a snake ready to bite. William was her past, yet he was turning out to be her ongoing shame, as well. “I…no, I don’t want them. Throw them out.”

Flipping over the top letter, Hannah studied the fancy red seal. “He’s very persistent.”

Bella closed her eyes until the need to shudder passed. Unable to craft a good explanation, she lifted a pleading look to Hannah. “Please. Take them away from me.”

Hannah sighed. “I can’t. They are addressed to you.
You
must decide what to do with them.” She placed the letters in Bella’s palm and closed her fingers over the thick stack of papers.

Swamped by her churning emotions, Bella stuffed the offensive letters in her pocket and turned to go.

This time, a light touch to her shoulder stopped her progress.

“Bella.”

Bella shrugged her off and pivoted to glare at her sister-in-law. “No. Don’t.”

Hannah lifted her hand to her hair, shifted a curl off her forehead. “What have I done to make you distrust me?”

Fists clenched, Bella fought back tears. “It’s not you, Hannah. It’s… You’re too good.”

Hannah’s gaze softened and she gave a short laugh. “Oh, Bella. We all sin and fall short of the glory of God. Even me.”

Bella saw the look of genuine sorrow on Hannah’s face. Yet what had she done? Said a bad word? Forgotten to pray one morning? Certainly nothing of real consequence, nothing as bad as desecrating a marriage.

“I find that hard to believe.” Her tone sounded bitter even to her own ears.

Hannah placed her palms in the air. “All right. We’ll
leave it a little longer. But, Bella, know this.” She tugged her into a tight embrace. “You can trust that I am here to listen whenever you need me.”

And with those words, Bella felt worse. She’d been harsh and abrupt with her sister-in-law, yet Hannah still dealt with her in love. The woman personified the Fruit of the Spirit. Hannah would be a trusted confidant, but Bella couldn’t find it in her heart to share her secret with her.

“I have to go.” She rushed out the door without looking back. She heard Hannah’s sigh of defeat right before the door banged shut behind her.

Less than a half hour later, Bella entered Mattie’s brothel with determination in her steps. An eerie silence enveloped the main salon, but Bella hardly noticed. She wove her way through the open area, past the divans and chairs that had been full of paying customers the night before.

Instead of feeling out of place in this den of iniquity, Bella felt safe, protected. But whether that was due to the Holy Spirit’s indwelling or a guilty conscience she couldn’t say for sure.

One thing was certain, though, she understood the women who lived and worked in this house. Perhaps she had a connection with these women because she knew what it felt like to live with the blot of shame.

Deep in thought, Bella ascended the stairwell slowly. At the top of the landing she heard both male and female laughter coming from down the hall. Surely, a customer wouldn’t visit this early in the day, not even on a Saturday? Would he?

Uncertain if she wanted to know the answer, Bella padded silently down the hallway and paused outside Lizzie’s room. The laughter was coming from just inside.

Undaunted, Bella curled her fingers into a fist and knocked on the door.

The laughter stopped.

She knocked again. “Lizzie, it’s me. Bella. I’ve come to read to you this morning.”

No response.

She reached for the knob. “Lizzie? Are you in there?”

“Go away, Bella. I’m…working.”

Bella snatched her hand back to her side. Her blood turned to ice. Shane had been right. Lizzie
had
returned to her old ways. “But, Lizzie, I—”

“Why, if it isn’t Miss Bella O’Toole herself, just the girl I wanted to see.”

Bella swung in the direction of the familiar voice, took a steadying breath. “Hello, Mattie.”

Mattie nodded in response. Although still dressed from the night before, the madam’s finely sculpted lips were unpainted, making her look less artificial and more approachable.

“Bella, darling, what are you doing up here all alone?”

Surprised at the question, she kept her tone light and friendly. “I was visiting Lizzie. Thought I’d read to her.”

Mattie’s gaze fused with hers so long Bella shifted under the blunt inspection.

“She wasn’t expecting you this morning,” Mattie said at last.

Bella’s shoulders slumped forward. “I gathered as much.”

The madam’s eyes narrowed, then she nodded absently, as though she’d come to a conclusion of some sort. “Follow me. I have something to show you.”

Oddly enough, as the woman took Bella’s hand and tugged her down the hallway, her face held the same compassionate look as Hannah’s had earlier. Bella didn’t like the expression any better on the madam’s round, overly powdered features than she had on her sister-in-law’s. Nevertheless, she didn’t struggle as Mattie literally dragged her down the back stairs.

Once inside Mattie’s private parlor, Bella pulled her hand free. “What is it you wanted to show me?”

“Nothing.” Mattie smirked. “I just wanted you out of the area.”

Bella made a face. “Are you protecting me? Or Lizzie?”

Before responding, Mattie took her time reclining into a large, cushioned chair facing the door. “Why, you, of course.”

Bella jammed her hands on her hips. “Isn’t that a bit out of character, Miss Silks?”

“Perhaps.” Mattie rose and ambled over to the bookshelf, pretending grave interest in the titles written on the spines. “Or perhaps I like that arrogant brother of yours and wanted to do him a favor.”

“Try again, and this time why don’t you play it with a little more feeling.”

“Perhaps I simply like and admire you.”

Rooted to the spot, Bella blinked in astonishment at the madam’s declaration.

Seemingly unaware of the stunned silence, Mattie pulled out a book, studied the title and then put it in a new spot farther down the shelf.

Tapping her foot in impatience, Bella broke the silence between them. “You know, Mattie, I find it necessary to stomp on your illusions concerning me.”