“He does.”
“Why didn’t you say he works for you?”
“I don’t know. Because I don’t think of it that way. He oversees the installations and is excellent at it. I think of him as a partner more than an employee. He’s been with me since the beginning.”
“Then why didn’t you say that?”
“Because we weren’t talking about the phone company, we were talking about your friends, and that he’s married to Franny. I’m sorry if you think I was being dishonest. That wasn’t my intent.”
She could feel him looking at her, and kept her gaze out the passenger window.
“What else do you believe I’ve been dishonest with you about?”
The muscles in her neck stung from how hard her teeth were clamped together.
“What is it?” he asked. “I can tell it’s something.”
She turned, but only to look straight ahead, not at him. “That you never went to New York City.”
“Yes, I did. Took the morning train, just like I told you the other day.”
Frustration filled her. Maybe she’d been wrong in asking him for help, but there had been no one else. If anyone in town learned the entire truth, they might not be as supportive as they had been for years. “No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did.”
Even with everything else on her mind, pain still filled her. “Then why did I see you two weeks later?”
He didn’t say a word, but she heard his intake of breath, and she hated that he wouldn’t just tell her the truth. Admit that he hadn’t wanted to see her any longer back then.
“I’m sorry, Jenny.”
A shiver whispered over her entire being like an icy wind. She’d always believed he hadn’t gone, but deep in her soul hadn’t wanted it to be true.
“I did come home, but only for a few hours. I’d promised my mother I’d be there for my father’s surprise birthday party. I took the afternoon train home, stayed for the party and took the night train back to New York. Not contacting you was hard, but I knew we’d barely have time to say hello.”
Her stomach clenched at how he turned one lie into another.
“That’s the truth, and the rest of the truth is that I was afraid that if I saw you, I wouldn’t go back to New York,” he continued. “It had been hard enough to leave the first time.”
“Stop it, Connor,” she snapped. “No more lies! You didn’t look like you were having a hard time when I saw you that night.”
“I’m not—You were at Pinion’s that night? Why didn’t you—”
“I wasn’t at Pinion’s,” she interrupted. The nightclub was for members only, of which she wasn’t. “I was in the parking lot, and saw you running for a car, laughing, with a—”
“Beth, my cousin,” he interrupted sharply. “I only had a few minutes to catch my train and she gave me a ride. Mick was supposed to, but he was busy talking to my father. Like always. That was the reason I had to go to New York, and stay there the entire summer. It was my only chance to prove to my father that I could amount to something too, that I wasn’t second best at everything.”
Second best? She’d never heard him say anything like that. Had never heard the frustration in his voice, either.
“I told you all that in my letters,” he said.
“What letters?” Just when she was questioning if he was telling the truth, he lied again. “You never wrote me any letters.”
“Yes, I did. Every chance I got. I just never got around to mailing them.”
“Why?” If she’d gotten a letter those first few weeks, everything would have been so different.
“Because I didn’t want you to know. Didn’t want anyone to know.”
“To know what?”
“How focused I was on proving to my father that I wasn’t second best. That I was a son he could be proud of, too.”
Surprised, and concerned, because the Connor she’d always known had never been anything except completely confident. Always happy. “I’m sure he’s proud now that you own the phone company.”
“I like to think so, but I’ll never know for sure.” He glanced her way, briefly. “He died that winter.”
Her heart dropped and she had to stop herself from touching his arm. “I’m sorry—I wasn’t aware of that.” She’d tried hard to not know anything about any of the McCormicks the past several years.
“It was a few months after you disappeared. A car accident in a snowstorm.”
Silence filled the car, and she considered offering her condolences again, but it felt like too little too late. If only she’d have known the truth, things would have been so different. Then and now.
The silence remained as they drove through the quiet, deserted streets of Syracuse. Her mind spun in circles the entire time. She’d bought into the belief that he hadn’t gone to New York so easily. Bought into the belief that he was dating someone else and had only been after one thing from her.
She’d given that one thing to someone else, that very night. Connor may have been trying to prove he wasn’t second best, but she’d just wanted to be loved. She would have settled for second best.
Actually, she’d settled for far less than that. Donald had been the one wanting one thing from her, and had laughed afterward, saying how he’d finally gotten one over on Connor McCormick. That they both had.
It had made her sick to her stomach, and the memory did so again now.
“What were you doing at Pinion’s that night?” he asked.
She blinked at the tears burning her eyes. “Just driving by.”
“With your parents?”
Holding in a bitter laugh, she said, “No.” Her mother and stepfather hadn’t even been in town that night.
“Well, I’m truly sorry if you misunderstood what you saw. It really had been my cousin Beth, and she gave me a ride to the train station. I took the train back to New York and came home again two days before school started that fall.”
By then, she’d already left the home and was living with Gretchen. “I’m sorry, too, Connor.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, uh, so, why do you think these girls are getting caught?”
That was a better idea, to focus on the future because the past could never be changed. “Because Naomi knows girls have been told to go to the flower shop, but then they’ve never shown up.”
“Who is Naomi? And what does the flower shop have to do with it?”
“Naomi owns a flower shop in Albany. Her sister used to work at the home, but quit because of the way the girls were treated, and ever since then, keeps a lookout for girls who run away and directs them to go to the flower shop if they don’t have anywhere else to go.”
“All right, let me get all this straight. There’s a home for unwed mothers in Albany that girls run away from. They go to this flower shop, owned by Naomi, where I’m assuming Gretchen picks them up when she delivers flowers to the shop, and brings them back to your house, her house.”
“Yes.”
“What happens to them next? After they have their babies. This Rachel who had her baby today, what will happen to her now?”
“She can stay as long as she wants. Most of them leave by the time the baby is a few months old. Sometimes they go back home, or go to live with other family members. Several have obtained jobs through people that Gretchen knows, and some have married the fathers of their babies.”
He remained quiet for several minutes, and she feared what he was thinking. It was about her, she was sure of that, and why she hadn’t married Emily’s father. She wouldn’t tell him. That was not information he needed to know.
“How do they end up at the home in Albany in the first place?”
“Their families take them there. Families who are ashamed that their daughters became pregnant out of wedlock, or refuse to allow th
em to marry the baby’s father.”
“Why doesn’t the home let the ones who don’t want to be there leave?”
“Money. They charge the families a weekly fee for the girls to be there. The people adopting the babies pay, too. The girls do all the cleaning and cooking, some stay there afterward, taking care of the babies in the adoption ward, or delivery ward.” There were so many more aspects of the home that people just didn’t know about. She hadn’t either, not until working with Gretchen to help others. “Before their babies are born, the girls have to sew clothes for the babies, diapers and blankets, and clothes for all the girls to wear.”
He was staring ahead, as if focused on driving, and his tone was cold as he said, “That sounds cruel. More than cruel.”
“It is. So are other things that happen there. When the girls arrive, they are given a new name. Not allowed to use their real name so they won’t be able to tell anyone about others they’d met there. They are given two sets of identical clothing and a pair of shoes, and have to wear their hair pinned up, covered with scarves so everyone looks the same. They aren’t allowed to talk about their families, their pasts, nor are they allowed any visitors. As soon as a baby is born, it’s taken to the adoption ward. The girls are knocked out with ether when they go into labor and wake up not knowing if they gave birth to a son or a daughter. They remain in bed for a few days and then if the family still owes for their stay there, they have to stay and work off their bill, if not, they can leave. For some, their families take them home and pretend they’d been at a boarding school or living with family, out of state. For others...”
She closed her eyes, knowing that was what her mother had told people. Including him. There was more she could tell them. Like how some of the girls ended up institutionalized from the trauma, or how some families adopted the baby and took their daughters home, to live as siblings rather than mother and child. There were just too many different situations to start attempting to explain them all.
He cursed under his breath. “This place needs to be reported, Jenny. They—”
“They aren’t breaking any laws, Connor.”
“Then tell me why we’re going here tonight?” he asked. “What’s the plan?”
“Gretchen and Naomi had agreed today that another flower delivery should happen tomorrow so that Naomi and her sister can survey the streets of Albany tonight, and if they find any girls, they’ll bring them directly to the flower shop for Gretchen to pick up tomorrow morning.”
His long sigh echoed in the car, and made her spine shiver slightly.
“So are we picking them up tonight, rather than Gretchen tomorrow?”
He sounded frustrated, angry. “Yes, if we find any while surveying the street near the home.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Does this place look for their runaways?”
She bit down on her bottom lip until it stung, before replying, “Not if their bills were paid in advance.” Afraid he might change his mind, she grasped his arm. “It’s not like we are doing anything against the law.”
“It’s not? Creeping around at night, helping runaways escape. I don’t think that’s completely legal. We should be calling the cops. Putting a stop to it all.”
“We can’t.” Her fingers felt as if they were on fire when she pulled them off his arm. “What they are doing to these girls should be illegal, but it’s not. The cops won’t help us. Cheryl, Naomi’s sister, tried to tell people about the conditions there, about how the girls were being shamed, coerced and humiliated into giving away their babies, but no one would listen.”
“Why?”
“Because they agreed that the girls are immoral and promiscuous, and should be glad they have a place to go, being as sinful as they are.” Anger filled her. “It’s not right. These girls didn’t set out to get pregnant. And they are young. Just young girls who...” She shook her head, unable to go on. To her, no baby was a mistake. God didn’t make mistakes. Others didn’t see it that way. He probably didn’t, either. Wouldn’t understand that no matter how she’d been conceived, Emily was the light of her life. The best thing that ever happened to her.
“I agree with you, Jenny,” he said. “No one should be treated the way you described, nor should they hold all the blame or face the consequences alone. I’ve heard of homes for unwed mothers—there is one in New York City, but I never thought that much about them. About the girls who go to them. I never imagined the conditions are what you described.”
“There are many homes for unwed mothers, all across the nation, the world, and they all aren’t the same. Some are havens for girls—they truly help them. The one in Albany isn’t like that. They have no compassion. They are focused on money, not helping people.”
“Well, we’ll help them tonight. Do whatever we can. We are almost to Albany. You’ll need to tell me where to turn.”
“I will. It’s on the south end of town. Past the big park on the Hudson.”
Silent for a moment, he then asked, “Are you talking about that big old monastery building?”
“Yes.”
“With the tall brick wall?”
“Yes.” She hadn’t seen the building in years and wasn’t looking forward to seeing it again. “That’s the place.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Connor knew the building; situated along the Hudson River, it looked like some sort of eerie old castle that would only be found in some medieval land and host a torture chamber in its bowels deep below the ground.
The old building wasn’t making his mind circulate over and over again; the information Jenny had shared was doing that. He now knew where she’d gone when she’d left Rochester and why. He’d thought knowing the truth would be satisfying. It wasn’t. It was disturbing. The things she described were from memories—hers. He hated the idea of her going through so much, and it made him want to know who Emily’s father was. Not for satisfaction. Well, maybe, because if he knew the guy, he was going to knock him into next week. And if he didn’t know the guy, he’d find him, and then knock him into next week.
He was mad about the other girls, too. What they were going through, all on their own. It should be illegal.
“You’ll need to turn at the next crossroad,” she said.
He turned at the next corner, and followed the highway through town, toward the river. The streets were deserted, the businesses and homes dark. The only movement was the moths fluttering their wings as they collected near the streetlights.
For Jenny’s sake, he hoped they found a girl who was attempting to run away from this unwed mothers’ home, because it meant so very much to her. She felt it was the only way to help. He wasn’t so sure about that. About any of this.
The girls did need help. That was a given, and there were a dozen questions he wanted to ask, but now wasn’t the time. He’d have to bide that. A few other questions, he could ask. “What are we going to do once we arrive at the home?”
“Wait.” She let out a long sigh. “I have no idea where Naomi and Cheryl are stationed.”
“Maybe we should go to the flower shop.”
“No. They won’t be there until morning. What time is it?”
He glanced at his wristwatch as they drove past a streetlight. “Ten after one.”
“Lights-out is at nine, but those working in the kitchen are never done before midnight.”
“How do they sneak out?”
“Different ways, those who want out find a way.”
“How did you?” The question escaped before he realized it.
“The coal chute in—” She clamped her lips shut.
“I’m sorry. I—I shouldn’t have asked that.”
“I knew you’d figured it out.” She was looking out the passenger window, exactly as she had been for most of the trip.
“Yet, you still asked me to help,” he said.
&nbs
p; “I had to. There was no one else.”
He nodded, feeling slighted at being her last choice.
“I didn’t mean it to sound like that. It’s just that there was no one in town that I could ask to take me and Gretchen’s truck is too recognizable to be driving around in the middle of the night.”
“Why couldn’t you ask anyone in town? They certainly take the secrecy of the girls at your place seriously.”
“For the most part, they do, but some don’t like it. Every once in a while, they’ll get worked up and start a ruckus, say that Gretchen needs to take those girls to a home so that the children of Twin Pines are not influenced by the immorality they are being exposed to. It tends to die down quickly.”
Connor was thinking of Howard when he said, “Because Gretchen is home-grown?”
He happened to drive past a streetlight right then, and the smile she flashed at him nearly robbed his ability to breathe.
“Yes.”
“The town puts a lot of emphasis on that.”
“They do, and there is hardly an empty seat in the church when one of the babies is baptized.”
“I’m glad that you have some support, some help with what you are doing.” He meant that. In all the years he’d wondered where she’d gone, he’d never thought along these lines. Regret sat heavy inside him. He should have told her more about his plans when he’d left for New York, that he’d be back home for his father’s birthday, but at the time, he couldn’t. His focus had been on impressing his father.
“Thank you for helping tonight. If word spread through town that the girls are runaways, things might change.”
“Where do the people in town think the girls come from?”
“A friend of Dr. Dillon. Not Alice, her father. He’d helped Gretchen in the beginning, and asked Alice to come home when he became ill. She’s been wonderful and has tried hard to make changes, but...” She heaved out a sigh. “Dr. Dillon, Alice’s father, schooled Gretchen in midwifery.”
Harlequin Historical May 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 Page 55
