Читать книгу A Place of Refuge - Janet Lee Barton - Страница 10

Chapter One

New York City

February 1896

A knock on the door this time of evening was never a good sign. Luke Patterson paused at the staircase and frowned, looking around for Mrs. Heaton, the owner of his boardinghouse. Neither she nor Gretchen, the maid, were anywhere to be seen and everyone else had scattered after dinner. The knock sounded once more and he took it on himself to answer the door.

“Sir, I’ve a young woman in my hack and was told to bring her to this address.” The man at the door handed Luke a familiar-looking card. It was one of Mrs. Heaton’s, embellished simply with only Heaton House, then the address and telephone number underneath. She often gave the cards to young women she thought might be in need of a safe place to come.

“What is it, Luke?” Mrs. Heaton asked as she hurried out of her study.

“This man has a young woman in his hack. He says he was told to bring her here.” He handed Mrs. Heaton her card.

“Well, tell her to come right in,” Mrs. Heaton said.

“She’s in bad shape, ma’am. She passed out on the way over. In fact I think she’s more in need of the hospital right now than anythin’. My wife’s a friend of her sister’s and they told me to bring her here, and that’s what I’ve done. They told me you’d given her the card.”

Mrs. Heaton’s brow furrowed. “I’m sure I did. Luke, please help this young woman in.”

“Of course.” Luke didn’t bother putting a coat on against the cold February night air. He hurried out to the hack alongside the driver. The man grabbed a small carpetbag, helped him get the young woman out of the hack, up to the front door and into the house.

“I’ve got to get back to the family, sir. I hope she’s all right.” He dropped the bag on the floor and let go of the woman, leaving her to slump against Luke.

Luke immediately lifted her into his arms as the man hurried out the door. She was light as a feather and when she moaned, he shifted her in his arms, hoping to make her more comfortable.

“Where do you want me to take her, Mrs. Heaton?”

“Let’s get her upstairs, so I can see what she needs, Luke. I’ve had Gretchen call the doctor and let the other women know a man will be in the upper hall.”

Male boarders were normally not allowed on the upper floors, but there really wasn’t any other way to get this young woman upstairs. She wasn’t in any shape to maneuver the steps. As they passed under the light in the foyer, Luke cringed at what he saw. The woman in his arms looked as if she’d had a fist shoved in her face. Several times. And she had a cut on the side of her temple that oozed blood through a makeshift bandage. What had happened to her?

He followed Mrs. Heaton up the stairs to the landing and waited while she turned to go up to the third floor. Then she paused. “No, let’s put her in Violet’s old room. There’s no need to jostle her any more than necessary. I’m sure she’s in a lot of pain or she wouldn’t have passed out, poor dear.”

Mrs. Heaton hurried into the room and lit a lamp before turning back the cover on the bed. “Lay her down easy, Luke. The doctor should be here any moment now.”

He did as told and then tried to step back to let Mrs. Heaton see to her. But the young woman held on to his hand and wouldn’t let go.

“Pull up a chair, at least until the doctor gets here. For right now it appears she doesn’t want you to go anywhere,” Mrs. Heaton said.

Luke grasped the chair by the side table with his free hand and pulled it a little closer, sat down and clasped the young woman’s hand with both of his. If he could convey that she was safe, he’d sit there all night. “Do you have any idea who she is?”

From the other side of the bed, Mrs. Heaton lowered the hood of the woman’s cape and looked down on her. Luke could hear her sharp intake of breath. “It’s hard to tell with her face so bruised and swollen, but with that red hair of hers, I do believe she’s the young woman we met in the park last summer—the one you’d helped defend.”

Luke leaned closer. The young woman’s hair cascaded over the pillow and his heart gave a sharp twist at her moan. Its deep red color told him she might well be the woman in the park. Aside from the fresh bruising and swelling, he could see a fading bruise under her left eye—apparently she got beaten up on a regular basis. His fist clenched at the very thought of anyone treating a woman that way. And if she was the same woman from last summer, he had a good idea who did it.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs and Gretchen and another woman, whom he recognized as one who came to some of the benevolent committee meetings Mrs. Heaton often hosted, entered the room. She was probably a member of the Ladies’ Aide Society as was Mrs. Heaton, but he wasn’t certain.

“Clara! What brings you—”

“Kathleen’s sister contacted me and let me know she’d sent her to you. I’ve been afraid something like this might happen.”

“Kathleen? Is that her name? How do you know her?” Mrs. Heaton asked.

In what Luke thought was an effort not to disturb the injured woman, his landlady led Clara over to the windows. But in the quiet of the night, he could still hear what was being said.

The woman Mrs. Heaton had introduced as Clara Driscoll lowered her voice. “She works in my department at Tiffany Glass Company and yes, her name is Kathleen O’Bryan. Evidently her brother-in-law lost his job again and came home drunk today. When Kathleen got there, she found them in the middle of a fight and she tried to stop him from hitting her sister. That’s when he came at her, hit her and knocked her down and hit her again. He left saying she’d better be gone when he came back.”

White-hot anger surged through Luke as the young woman moaned. How dare the man touch her! He—

The doctor arrived just then and Mrs. Heaton turned to Luke. “Why don’t you wait downstairs, Luke? I’ll let you know what the doctor says and how Miss O’Bryan is doing in a little while. Thank you for helping me get her upstairs.”

“You’re welcome.” Luke tried to slip his hand out of the young woman’s, but she held on tighter. Her eyes fluttered open and she hoarsely whispered, “Thank you.”

He leaned close and whispered, “You’re welcome. And you’re safe here. Doc and Mrs. Heaton are going to take care of you now.”

Only then did she let go of his hand. He watched her eyelashes drift downward and turned to leave as the doctor took his place.

Luke cringed as he heard a louder moan this time and he fought the urge to rush back to her side. But the doc was the one who could make her feel better now. He’d only be in the way.

“Please do let me know how she is, Mrs. Heaton.”

She gave a short nod. “I will.”

Luke’s heart twisted in his chest as he hurried down the stairs to the main floor and then down the next flight to the first floor where he and the other male boarders’ rooms were. He’d try to get some work done—at least a scene or two on the book he was writing. Otherwise he’d only pace the floor waiting for Mrs. Heaton to let him know how Miss O’Bryan was.

He flipped through a few typewritten pages to get back into his writing, but in only moments Luke realized he wouldn’t get any work done this far away from what was going on upstairs.

He gathered a tablet and pencil and went back upstairs and settled at Mrs. Heaton’s desk. He knew she wouldn’t mind; she’d offered to let him work in here before. Maybe he could at least make a few notes about his next chapter. Luke tried to concentrate on what he was writing but the connection to it and the woman upstairs was so apparent he couldn’t concentrate on anything but her.

If not for meeting Miss O’Bryan that day in the park, he might not even be writing this book. Her name fit her well, or at least the woman he remembered from that day in the park last summer, when her brother-in-law was threatening both her and her sister.

She’d shown such dignity that day, but the look in her eyes told him how vulnerable she really was. Ever since that encounter, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind and every time he caught a glimpse of hair the color of hers, he took a second look—at the park, on a trolley, in the tenements, when he’d gone on an assignment from his boss, Michael Heaton. Michael was Mrs. Heaton’s son and owned his own detective agency. Until his marriage this past December, he’d lived here, too.

Michael felt he had reason to believe that his sister who’d been missing for several years might have wound up living in the tenements. He didn’t want his mother to know of his fears, but he’d confided in Luke that he’d almost given up hope of finding her at all.

It was the traveling in and out of the tenements that had precipitated the change in his writing career. He liked writing the lighter dime novels that made him a living, along with occasional investigative work for Michael, but over the past few months, his goal had changed. He wanted to make a difference in people’s lives with his writing. What he was working on now was a book that depicted life for those less fortunate in the city, and Luke hoped it would continue to call attention to their plight as Jacob Riis had done with his book, How the Other Half Lives.

Tonight he realized the woman upstairs had everything to do with the direction his writing had gone in—because of the way she and her sister had been treated that day in the park. The conditions he was afraid they lived in. And seeing her tonight—

“Luke?” Mrs. Heaton broke into his thoughts.

He jumped to his feet and came around the desk. “Yes, ma’am? How is she?”

“The doctor says Kathleen is going to be all right. But he said she’s going to be in some pain for the next few days. He thinks she may have cracked a rib, too. Clara is giving her this week off and we’re going to try to find out how best to help her. She’ll be staying with us for now.”

“That’s good, I’m glad.” Relief washed over him, knowing she’d be here. He couldn’t explain the strange connection he felt for the young woman, but it was there and it was strong.

“Evidently her sister’s husband has beaten Kathleen several times, probably because she comes to her sister’s defense and keeps her from taking the beating,” Mrs. Heaton continued. “Clara says Kathleen’s sister, Colleen, is expecting a child. However, after tonight, she realized she had to get Kathleen out of there. Colleen was afraid that if she didn’t, her husband might hurt Kathleen even worse.”

Luke felt his lip curl in disdain for the man. “Kathleen will be safe here. I’ll see that she is.”

“I know you will. She’s awake now and trying to remember what happened and why she’s here. Things are slowly coming back to her. I’m going to take a food tray up to her and see if we can get her to eat something. I’ll let her know you were asking about her and helped to get her upstairs.”

“If you need me for anything at all—”

“Thank you, Luke. I know where to find you and I’m thankful you are here. We’re going to take care of her.”

Luke watched his landlady leave the room, thankful that she’d given Kathleen her card last summer. The pretty redhead might not know it, but she was in the best place she could be right now.

The vision of Kathleen’s face, so lovely under all the swelling and bruising, came to him. He clenched his fist once more and went to look out of the window. He didn’t know how long it would take, but he was going to find that no-good brother-in-law of hers. If the man were lucky, the cops would get to him before Luke did.

* * *

Kathleen opened one eye and then the other. A sliver of sunlight creeping through the slit in the draperies told her it was morning. The last thing she remembered from the night before was the nice lady... Kathleen closed her eyes and concentrated. Mrs. Heaton. Yes, the woman who’d given her a card last summer and who owned the home she’d been sent to...last night?

She took a deep breath. Why was she having such a hard time putting her thoughts together? Her face, her temple, her whole head ached, but nowhere near as bad as the night before—until she reached up to touch the bandage on her temple. The light contact was enough to make the throb feel like a pounding hammer.

She closed her eyes against the pain and held her breath until it eased off a bit. Then she lay as still as she could until she felt she could open her eyes once more.

Her mind flooded with unconnected memories. She remembered telling her coworkers good-night and leaving work. Money had been especially tight lately, so, though she was tired, Kathleen hadn’t given in to the urge to take the trolley. Instead, she’d trudged over to Second Avenue and down to Eighth Street to the tenement building where she lived with her sister and her family. They seemed to have traded one pitiful existence for another since they’d left Ireland two years ago. Believing they’d have a better life in America, they’d pooled what little they had to make the trip, only to find life wasn’t any easier here.

She didn’t think the dreadful place could ever be home to her or her family. All the buildings in the area seemed the same to Kathleen. They were made of brick, with stoops in front. The six and seven stories housed scores of families, some even larger than hers, crowded in two-and three-room apartments. One had to know the number of the building and where it set on the street to be sure of where they were going.

But last night, as she’d neared their tenement and saw her nephews sitting on the stoop, her heart had dipped into her stomach and she’d felt a little sick. She’d known something wasn’t right. Collin and Brody had looked at her with their big blue eyes and she could see they’d been crying. She’d bent and hugged them when they ran to her.

“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” she’d asked.

Collin had answered, “Papa came home early and started yelling and—”

“He was really loud.” Brody wiped a hand across his eyes. “Mama started crying, and he yelled more.”

“Mama sent us out.”

Kathleen’s heart constricted with dread. “Well, now, I’m sure things aren’t as bad as you’re thinkin’. Your papa does get worked up a bit at times. I’ll go see what all the ruckus is about.”

She hadn’t wanted to take the boys, but—

A knock sounded on the door, bringing her out of her thoughts. The door opened just a crack and she heard a whisper. “Kathleen? It’s Mrs. Heaton. Are you awake, dear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“May I come in?”

“Of course.” This was Mrs. Heaton’s home after all and she’d opened it to her, a total stranger except for that chance meeting in Central Park last summer.

Mrs. Heaton entered the room and hurried over to her. “Are you still in pain?”

“Some.” Kathleen tried to scoot up in bed and grimaced.

“I think a little more than that. Let me give you some of the medicine Doctor Reynolds left for you. Then we’ll see if you feel like a cup of tea and maybe some toast.”

“Yes, thank you.” She opened her mouth as Mrs. Heaton brought a spoonful of medicine to her lips. Kathleen swallowed the liquid and prayed it would work quickly to ease the pounding in her head.

“You were out again when I brought a tray up last night and I didn’t want to wake you. I did check on you several times throughout the night and you seemed to be sleeping.”

Mrs. Heaton talked as she straightened Kathleen’s covers and pulled back the draperies on one of the windows—just enough to let a bit of light in, but not so much that it bothered Kathleen’s eyes.

“Let me look at you.” The compassion in the woman’s eyes touched Kathleen’s heart. She’d been nothing but kind to her. She sighed now and shook her head. “Doc said your bruising might look worse before it gets better. I’m afraid he was right. But don’t you worry, you’ll be back to your lovely self before you know it.”

“Thank you for taking me in and for being so kind.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you kept my card and were brought here. Try not to worry about your sister. Mrs. Driscoll said she would check on her and get word to you on how she and your nephews are.”

Kathleen let herself relax a little at Mrs. Heaton’s words. Tears sprung to her eyes just thinking about the only family she had left. She tried to remember...why was she here? “I have so many questions about what happened, and I just can’t seem to remember. Everything is just so disconnected and yet I feel I’ve been here before.”

“You were. But only for one night last spring.”

“I was?” Kathleen tried to remember but couldn’t.

“Don’t struggle with it, dear.”

Kathleen tried not to show how much pain she felt leaning forward while Mrs. Heaton plumped her pillow and added another to prop her up. She bit her bottom lip as the woman eased her back onto the pillows.

“Doctor Reynolds said you might not remember everything right away but he thinks your memories will all come back to you in time. He said it was a good sign that you knew your name and Mrs. Driscoll’s, and where you work.”

“Work. I...” Kathleen furrowed her brow and looked at Mrs. Heaton.

“Mrs. Driscoll said not to worry about coming in today. She gave you the rest of the week off and said she would be back today to see how you are.”

Kathleen released a relieved sigh. Thank you, Lord.

Another knock came on the door and Mrs. Heaton went to answer it. “It’s Gretchen, I’m sure. I asked her to bring a tray up.”

A woman dressed in a maid’s uniform came into the room. She appeared to be around Kathleen’s age of twenty-four. Her hair was blond and curly and her eyes were light blue.

“Put the tray on the dresser, please, Gretchen.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She turned to Kathleen and said, “I hope you feel better today, miss.”

“Thank you,” Kathleen said.

“If you need anything more just let me know, Mrs. Heaton.”

“Thank you, Gretchen.” The maid left the room quietly and Mrs. Heaton turned to Kathleen.

“Perhaps, after you’ve had some tea and toast, Gretchen and I can help you to the bathroom so you can freshen up. That might make you feel better.”

The thought sounded wonderful to Kathleen. “That would be nice.”

“Well, then, lets get some tea in you. One or two teaspoons of sugar?”

“Two, please.” The pain medication seemed to be working, for the pounding in her head had eased to a lesser throb. Mrs. Heaton placed the tray in front of her and Kathleen picked up the teacup and took a sip.

“By the time you finish, Gretchen and I will be back to help you—”

“Mrs. Heaton, I don’t know how to thank you for everything.”

“You’ve already thanked me, dear. Just let yourself heal and know that you are safe here.”

Kathleen managed a small nod.

“Are you up to a little more light, dear?”

“I believe so.”

Mrs. Heaton opened the draperies fully on both windows and sunlight flooded the room, but it didn’t bother Kathleen’s eyes. She liked the way the light filtered through the lace panels behind the drapes.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Mrs. Heaton said. She hurried off and Kathleen took another sip of her tea.

Only then did she really see the room she was in. It was huge—and more than just a bedroom. Decorated with lavender-and-yellow wallpaper and bed coverings of the same colors, the room was beautiful.

There was a comfortable-looking chair in the corner between the bed and a window. And there was even a small sofa in front of a fireplace. An armoire that matched the headboard of the bed was on the other side of the room. She’d never seen anything this nice in her life and wished Colleen could see it.

Tears gathered in her eyes once more at the thought of her sister and nephews. Dear Lord, please keep them safe. And please help me to remember all that happened to bring me here. In Jesus’s name, I pray. Amen.

Kathleen couldn’t remember when she’d eaten last, and even though she didn’t feel hungry, her rumbling stomach told her she was. She picked up a piece of toast and took a bite. By the time Mrs. Heaton returned, she’d managed one slice and had finished her tea.

“Oh, good. I’m glad you got something down. Gretchen is coming, and we’re going to help you to the bathroom. You’ll be sharing it with Elizabeth. She’s at work now, but you’ll meet her this evening.”

Kathleen wasn’t sure she was ready to meet anyone else, but she didn’t have the inclination or the energy to argue with this woman who’d done so much for her.

Gretchen came in just then and the two women helped her into a bathroom that was just off her room. She couldn’t believe the size of it. She and her sister’s family had to share a bathroom with the other tenants on their floor. This was so clean and large compared to that one—and she was to share it with only one other person? A room almost as large as their apartment and a bathroom connected to it? Such luxury was too much to take in.

By the time Mrs. Heaton and Gretchen had helped her into a fresh gown and back to bed, she was quite drowsy.

“I can’t believe I’m sleepy again,” Kathleen said as Mrs. Heaton plumped her pillow once more.

“I’m afraid I tired you out with all my talking earlier, dear.”

“Oh, no. I’m sure it’s the medicine.”

“Could be. But the doctor said rest was the best for you right now. You let yourself sleep whenever you can. I’ll go let Luke know how you are doing today.”

“Luke?”

“Luke Patterson. He helped me get you upstairs last night. He’s the young man who came to your defense that day in the park last summer.”

Memories crept in. Of strong arms picking her up and holding her close, of not wanting to let go of his hand. They came to her now, as did that day in the park when the handsome man had tried to help her and Colleen. They were one and the same? “He lives here?”

“Yes, he does. And I know he was quite worried about you last night. You wouldn’t let go of his hand for the longest time. I must let him know you are on the mend. I’ll be back with some lunch a little later. You get some rest now.” Mrs. Heaton slipped out the bedroom door.

Kathleen leaned back against the pillows and released a pent-up breath. The hammering she had felt no longer pounded in her head, but in her chest. Luke Patterson. The man who’d become her hero in one brief encounter and whom she’d dreamed about several times since then had a name. And he lived here.

Kathleen’s memories were so jumbled in with her dreams and nightmares of the night before, she wasn’t sure what was real and what wasn’t. But evidently, hearing that deep, husky voice she’d become familiar with in her dreams and the comforting feeling of being lifted and carried gently in a pair of strong arms hadn’t been a dream at all.

* * *

“Man in the hall,” Mrs. Heaton called as she led Luke up the stairs. She’d finally given in to his wish to see how Kathleen was doing for himself, although it’d taken a lot of persuasion to get her to agree.

Luke heard several doors slam as they reached the landing and he was sure the women weren’t thrilled with his invasion into their domain. He looked straight ahead as he followed Mrs. Heaton to the room she’d given Miss O’Bryan.

He waited as his landlady knocked on the door. “Kathleen, dear, it’s Mrs. Heaton. May I come in? I’ve brought you supper.”

“Yes, ma’am. Of course you may,” Kathleen answered.

Luke opened the door for his landlady and stood to the side while she entered. She turned to him. “You stay right here until I see if she’s up to seeing you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Luke hoped that she was, for he wouldn’t barge in on his own, but he felt the need to see her, to hear her voice, to make sure she was all right.

It was but a few minutes before Mrs. Heaton returned. “You may see Miss O’Bryan, but not for long. She’s still recovering, you know.”

Luke nodded and entered the room with Mrs. Heaton right behind him as decorum demanded. Kathleen was propped up against a pile of pillows, covers pulled up to her neck. As he got closer he could see the bruising was still evident, maybe even worse than the night before, but her coloring seemed much better.

“This is Luke Patterson, Kathleen. He’s not let me rest until I finally said he could come see for himself that you are improving. He’s the young man we talked about earlier.”

“Yes, I remember.”

She looked up at him and for a moment Luke felt he might drown in the deep ocean blue-green of her eyes.

“Thank you so much for coming to my aid that day in the park and again last night.”

“You’re more than welcome, Miss O’Bryan. You look... I...” Luke was at a loss for words. He couldn’t say she looked wonderful, for she still looked battered and bruised. “Ah, better.”

“It’s all right, Mr. Patterson. I know how I look. But rest assured, I’ll recover and be the stronger for it all.”

The lilting sound of her Irish accent made him smile. “I can see that by the glint in your eyes and I’m glad for your attitude. You were brought to the right place. Mrs. Heaton is going to take good care of you.”

“She already has been,” Miss O’Bryan said.

Luke nodded. “I can see that. I’m sure she’ll have you joining us for dinner in no time.”

“That’s what Mrs. Heaton keeps telling me.”

“You’ll find that she is rarely wrong. I look forward to seeing you downstairs soon.”

“Thank you.”

“She’ll be joining us soon,” Mrs. Heaton said with a smile. “But it’s time for you to go, Luke. The girls will be wanting to go down to dinner soon.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Luke smiled at Miss O’Bryan and gave a little nod. “Good night.”

“Good night. Thank you for checking on me.”

“You’re welcome. Hopefully, you’ll feel even better tomorrow.” He turned to Mrs. Heaton. “Thank you for letting me see for myself that she is on the mend.”

“You’re welcome, Luke. Please tell the other men dinner will be served soon.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He resisted the urge to look at Kathleen once more and headed out the door, releasing a sigh as he headed down the stairs. She was going to be all right. And he was going to see she stayed that way.