Chapter 15 #2
“You look tired. I suppose your injuries are taking a toll. I’m sorry that you had to bear such an outcome. Is there anything in particular that needs my attention business-wise?” Father asked, sounding surprisingly sympathetic.
“No, everything is fine. You don’t need to concern yourself with a thing. I’m sure you’ll have plenty to deal with soon enough. Given the new gold coming in, my brothers will be jumping to buy up bankrupt businesses and foreclosures.”
His father perked up at this. “Yes, they’ve kept an eye out for such things.
They told me that there were a great many choice properties for sale, and they have purchased prime New York City real estate already.
But then that’s often what is done in bad times.
Those who didn’t plan wisely are forced to face their mistakes.
” He pulled out his pocket watch. “I must return home. I promised your stepmother that I would escort her to the opening of a new art gallery.”
Life would just go on as it always had, Max surmised.
The wealthy would go on finding ways to make money, and the poor would continue to battle for their existence.
Especially those displaced by the fire. He’d made his own purchases, a home and several pieces of land.
They weren’t foreclosures, but the desperation of the owners to sell still allowed Max to walk away with a great deal.
Father rose and smiled down at him. “I’m glad you’re in good care. I will call again if time permits. Otherwise, let me know when you return home.”
“Of course I will.” Max nodded. “I believe I’ll take a rest now.”
His father paused and gave him a stern look of reprimand. “Max, just forget about all that’s happened. It was nothing more than an accident. If you insist on making more of it, you’ll cause problems not only for us, but for our friends. No one did anything wrong.”
“If that’s true, then why would it cause problems if I had the matter investigated?”
His father stared at him a moment longer, then waved his hand. “I’ll talk to you when you’re feeling better.”
Once his father had gone, Max got carefully to his feet and did his best to ignore the pain.
Dr. Turner had told him it would take six to twelve weeks for the collarbone to reknit.
The burns were entirely dependent on whether or not they got infected.
He would most likely need several months before he felt back to normal.
Still, Max wasn’t sure what bothered him more—the physical pain or the overwhelming concern that his father had done something illegal.
“I saw your father’s carriage heading down the drive,” Evie said, coming into the sitting room. “I hope you had a good visit.”
“It went like most of our visits.” Max turned to admire her. She truly was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Today she wore a blue gown of some light, airy material. It suited her far better than her uniform.
“You sound upset.”
“And why shouldn’t I? My father might well be a criminal.”
Evie frowned. “What are you saying?”
Max shook his head and paced the floor. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“Just start at the beginning and tell me what’s troubling you.”
“Do you remember the night of your fund raiser?”
“How could I forget? That’s when I met you.” She smiled and went to the sofa. “Come sit with me. I want to hear it all.”
Max hesitated, but seeing her take a seat there, he couldn’t help but join her. Being near her gave him a sense that all would be well. “I believe you could talk me into most anything.”
She smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind. But for now, what has your father done that might bring him under the attention of legal officials?”
“He and his friends might well be responsible for starting the fire.”
“But why would they do that?”
“Insurance money. The economy has been so bad that they came to the conclusion the only way to get much-needed money was to set fire to the sawmills and collect on the insurance. I overheard them talking about it the night of your fund raiser. It was the reason I was so angry and nearly ran you over in the garden.”
“How terrible. That could have resulted in hundreds of deaths. Are you sure that’s what happened?” She watched him carefully.
Max shook his head. “No. Not at all. My father admits it was discussed but swears no one carried through with the idea.”
“But you don’t believe him.” It was more a statement than a question.
Max leaned back, and a moan of pain escaped him. He closed his eyes. “I don’t know what to believe.”
“You should be in bed.”
“No, I’m fine. Your father said this discomfort was normal.” He opened his eyes to find her concerned expression. “Please don’t worry, and don’t say anything about what I’ve told you.”
“But if you honestly think this might be the truth of what happened, you must tell someone in a position of authority.”
“I don’t know what to think, and that’s the problem. Look, I’ve kept your secret regarding nursing, just keep this secret in return.”
“It’s hardly the same thing. My secret is a personal matter that breaks no law. Yours might well prove the high society of Minneapolis arranged to cause a fire that destroyed hundreds of businesses and homes and resulted in severe injury to many.”
“I realize it’s not the same, but please do this for me. I need time to think and figure out what to say or do about this. Please, Evie.”
She considered the matter for a moment, then nodded. “Very well. I will keep your concerns to myself, but I encourage you to pray. God will show you what direction to take. Now please go rest, and I’ll bring you some lunch.”
Max went upstairs, but his heart was heavy.
What could he do to establish the truth one way or another?
Even proving his father’s innocence would be impossible.
He thought of Evie’s encouragement to pray.
Once again, he felt ill at ease. He had prayed in the midst of danger, and God had answered.
Perhaps He wasn’t as indifferent as Max had always presumed.
Once in the privacy of his room, Max sat on the edge of his bed and gazed upward. “If You are omniscient as so many people tell me, then You know the trouble in my spirit. I need help. I don’t know what to do.”