the page and stab at Jessicaâs heart.
âThat blackguard has robbed you blind, Jessica. He has taken the ten thousand dollars I wired to him, which was intended to go toward the purchase of a lovely new home, and has apparently wasted it away elsewhere. Heâs taken additional money, money he telegrammed requesting of me, and apparently has lost the fortune given you by Harriet.â
Jessica knew it was true. By the time Newmanâs death darkened her life, Jessica knew he had a gambling problem. A drinking problem. A fighting problem. And a multitude of other sins that had destroyed any possible hope of her loving him. He was a liar and a cheat and an adulterer, and Jessica could find no place in her heart to grieve his passing.
He had stumbled home one morning after an apparent night in the gutter not far from their poor excuse for a house. His nose was red, and his throat raw, and he bellowed and moaned about his condition until Jessica, then in her eighth month of pregnancy, had put him to bed and called for the doctor. Within three days, however, her husband was dead from pneumonia, and Jessica faced an uncertain future with a child not yet born.
It was at the funeral for Newman that Jessica realized the full truth of his affairs. Not one but three mistresses turned up to grieve their beloved Newman. None of the women had any idea about the others, and none knew Newman to have a wife and child. One particularly seasoned woman actually apologized to Jessica and later sent money that she explained Newman had given her for the rent. Jessica wanted to throw the money into the street but was too desperate to even consider such a matter. As a Christian woman of faith, she knew God had interceded on her behalf to provide this money. To throw it away would be to ignore Godâs answer to her prayers.
It had been painful to admit to her father that she was living from day to day in abject poverty, but even more painful to endure his response. He had raged about the injustice, but never once had he suggested she come home to live at Windridge. Jessica never even mentioned the baby to him. She was too afraid of what his reaction might be. Instead, she did as he asked, providing the information he sought on her finances. Then she followed his instructions when a letter came informing her that heâd hired a realtor to move her elsewhere and had set up an account of money in a New York City bank so that she might have whatever she needed. Such generosity had deeply touched her. But still, he never asked her to come home.
That broke her heart.
Then her life grew even more complicated when her best friend, Esmerelda Kappin, began to suggest Jessica give Ryan over to her for raising. Essie, as Jessica had once affectionately called her friend, was barren. She and her husband had tried every midwife remedy, every doctorâs suggestion, and still they had no luckâno children. Essie took an interest in Ryan that Jessica didnât recognize as unhealthy until her friend began to suggest that Ryan preferred her care to Jessicaâs. Then Essieâs very wealthy mother appeared on the doorstep to offer Jessica money in exchange for Ryan.
Of course, Jessica had been mortified and from that point on began guarding Ryan as though the devil himself were after the child. The Kappins grew more insistent, showing up at the most inopportune times to remind Jessica that she was alone in the world and that Ryan deserved a family with a mother and a father.
Jessica looked down at the sleeping boy. He did deserve a father, but that wasnât to be. She had no desire to remarry. Perhaps it was one of the reasons sheâd decided to come to Windridge. Running Windridge would keep her busy enough to avoid loneliness and put plenty of distance between her and anyone who had the idea of stealing her son.
The prairie hills passed by the window, and from time to time a small grove of trees could be spotted. They