Band of Sisters

by Cathy Gohlke

  Curtis looked at her steadily, enough to make Olivia tug the cuffs of her coat sleeves and shift in her seat. “Is Drake normally monstrous to attractive women?”

  He’s odious to every woman—especially to my beautiful sister, who he’s infected with his nasty disease. But she would not betray Dorothy’s confidence. She returned Curtis’s probing gaze. “That’s an odd question coming from his business associate.”

  “Not all businessmen conduct their business in the same way.”

  Olivia straightened. “No, they don’t.” Did he just chastise me again?

  “I’m sorry,” Curtis apologized. “That was rude and uncalled for. Drake is your sister’s husband.”

  “Yes, he is,” Olivia answered slowly, remembering Katie Rose’s tirade of Maureen’s accusations and fears. But Katie Rose was in tears—hysterics. It was all too much, too melodramatic, too thirteen. The sisters probably had another falling-out, as they did in Dorothy’s parlor. But what if it wasn’t that? She looked at Curtis as if she’d not seen him before. And what is your position, your business with Drake, Mr. Curtis Morrow? What is it really? Why did you help me find Maureen and Katie Rose? Why are you interested in Drake’s relationship to Maureen?

  For the first time, Olivia wondered if she should entirely trust Curtis Morrow.

  When Joshua Keeton answered the summons to Curtis Morrow’s office, he detected a lingering hint of lily-scented perfume, reminding him of the fragrance Olivia Wakefield had worn to church.

  Joshua was not surprised to learn that Katie Rose had run to Olivia for sanctuary and security. He didn’t blame the girl. He was only mildly surprised she’d held out as long as she did.

  But what of Maureen? It was bad enough the two of them livin’ in the tenement together. Maureen in that rat hole alone is unthinkable.

  “You’re sure Maureen’s not one to steal or to entertain men—that there’s no justification for the girl’s accusations?” Curtis’s eyes probed Joshua’s, but Joshua stood without flinching.

  “She’d do neither.” Not willingly. God, please, no—protect her! Hasn’t she been through enough?

  “Then there’s something amiss—some missing piece. Katie Rose said Maureen is convinced Drake’s a dangerous man. Put that together with her unreasonable fear of either of them living with Olivia—when help from the Wakefields is what she came for in the first place—and I have to think Maureen knows something about Drake. Something she’s afraid to tell. But how could she be connected to him in any way? She was only days off the boat when she met him—any of them—and she came straight from Mrs. Melkford’s.”

  “It cannot be from the church or either sister’s house,” Joshua considered. “Where else could she have seen him?”

  “If it’s not in her apartment—”

  “It’s not,” Joshua interjected almost fiercely. I’ve kept watch since the moment I found her again.

  “Then it must be work or some other public place—which leaves most of Manhattan.” Curtis grimaced.

  “But none that Maureen frequents without Katie Rose . . . except her job.”

  “Darcy’s,” Curtis murmured. “But we’ve found no direct link there.” He stood, turned toward the window, opened the blinds.

  “If Maureen’s lost her position—if she’s been accused of stealin’, as you say, it may be because she wouldn’t do as she was told.”

  “Is she normally obstinate?”

  “Maureen?” Joshua smiled. “Obstinate as the day is long. But she’d do nothin’ to knowingly jeopardize her position. Steady employment and her wages are what keep her in America. No—” he shook his head—“she’d not risk that—not without the best of reasons.”

  “Nor would she be able to quit—with no place to go—even if things weren’t right there. I’d say divide your time between the sisters as best you can, with a focus on following them to and from work each day. See if Maureen stops anywhere else—who she knows or speaks to, what she does. And if you think she’ll trust you, have a word with her.”

  If she’ll trust me—that’s the question.

  Katie Rose floated on air her first week with Olivia. Never had a lady’s maid run her bath, let alone from a faucet in a room made for such a purpose. A real claw-foot tub and not a tin tub in the kitchen—who could have imagined?

  “Miss Olivia indulges me as if I’m a princess!” Katie Rose gloated to Emma as they left work. “She gives me money for the trolley every day and bought me this fine pair of walkin’ shoes—brand-new—and this woolen coat. Do you like it?” She did a little twirl in the midst of the sidewalk.

  “Why are you working at all if the grand lady’s looking after everything?” Emma asked.

  Katie Rose slowed, sensing that her friend was miffed. Well, I’d be too if she waltzed in with all this finery and no woes. “Don’t be cross with me, Emma. I’m sorry to boast. I know it’s not right. It’s just I’ve never had such things or anyone to look after me like this.”

  “It’s like falling into a fairy tale, I guess,” Emma sighed. “I’d like to fall into one of those myself. Someday I’ll work in one of the stores uptown, like your sister, and wear pretty clothes and shoes that don’t look like my brother’s boots,” she dreamed aloud. “But I’ve no rich American friends to take me in—not me and not my six brothers and sisters!”

  Katie Rose linked arms with her friend. “Oh, but you have me! And look here.” She dug deep into the pocket of her new burgundy coat. “I’ve not used the trolley once this week. I’ve saved every nickel Miss Olivia gave me. So what do you say that we stop at the nickelodeon on our way home—my treat! We’ve enough for two shows and supper between us.”

  “On a Friday night?” Emma gasped.

  Katie Rose nodded eagerly. “We won’t stay terribly late. I can’t go tomorrow afternoon. The Ladies’ Circle meets and I’m a member now. I must attend.” She whispered, “I’ve taken the pledge,” hoping Emma would ask her just what she meant.

  “But tonight’s the beginning of Shabbat. Papa doesn’t mind so much that I go Saturday afternoons since I have to work on Saturdays anyway. But Friday night—he’d skin me alive, for starts.” Emma’s mournful gaze trailed from the coins in Katie Rose’s palm to her face.

  “Can’t you go just this once?” Katie Rose begged.

  “No.” Emma shook her head and sighed again. “Can’t you miss Saturday, just this once?”

  Katie Rose pocketed the coins. “I’d better not. I don’t think Olivia would understand after I took the pledge and all.” She waited, but when Emma didn’t ask her to explain, she pulled in her lower lip. “I don’t want her to send me back to Maureen.”

  “How is your sister? Have you seen her at all this week?”

  “No.” Katie Rose lifted her chin. “And I don’t mean to. She’d try to pull me back, and I’m not goin’ into that hovel—never again.”

  “But she’s your sister, and she took care of you when there was no one else.”

  “Well, there’s someone else now.”

  But Emma, her lips pinched, had stopped walking. Katie Rose took that as a rebuke.

  “You don’t know what she’s like,” Katie Rose protested. “She—”

  “Hush a minute.” Emma tugged her arm. “Do you see that man? The one in the checkered cap over there—across the street?”

  “What? Where?” Katie Rose turned to look, but Emma jerked her forward.

  “Don’t stare so at him. Pretend you’re looking at something else!”

  “Why? What’s—?”

  “I think he’s following us. I saw him outside the Triangle, and he’s walked these same three blocks.”

  “So have lots of people.”

  “But he stops every time we stop.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “I’ve seen him before,” Emma whispered. “He comes round the Triangle and follows girls home sometimes. I’ve seen him walking through the neighborhood, but not for a while.”

  “He’s h
andsome enough—probably just some fella that fancies a pretty smile.” Not that he’d be lookin’ for that with me, though my scars have all but healed. Maybe he does . . . “Or maybe he’s lonely and—” Katie Rose turned again and stole another glance. The man smiled and tipped his hat. She whirled away, sensing a skip in her pulse.

  “Mama says I’m not to speak to him, that all the girls should ignore him,” Emma rattled on. “Come, walk faster.”

  After two blocks of fairly racing, Katie Rose panted, “Slow down, Emma! I can’t keep up with you.”

  Emma stopped so quickly that Katie Rose pounded into her, knocking them both off-balance.

  “I think it’s okay; we’ve outfoxed him. Just watch as you walk home, especially along the darker streets.” Emma straightened her hat and pushed the flying tendrils of her hair into place. “This is my corner. I’ve got to hurry; I’m to buy the candles for Shabbat, and it’s nearly sundown.”

  “You’re sure you can’t come to the nickelodeon? Just this once?” Katie Rose begged. “I’m dyin’ to see this week’s film; tonight’s my only chance.”

  But Emma shook her head. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe you’ll be able to miss a Saturday meeting in a week or two; maybe the ladies won’t mind so much by then.”

  “All right. I’ll let you know what happens tomorrow.”

  Emma pulled her back. “You’re not going on your own, are you? Nice girls don’t go to the nickelodeon on their own!”

  Katie Rose felt herself redden. I’m a nice girl and that was exactly what I was goin’ to do. Why not? But she sputtered, “No, of course not. I just meant that I’d let you know how things go with Miss Olivia tonight. Though I don’t think it should matter—boys go in alone all the time.”

  “But it does matter—boys are different!”

  I don’t see how. So many rules and regulations! If it’s not Maureen or Olivia, it’s you! “I’ll see you at the machines, Emma.”

  Katie Rose lifted her chin at Emma’s apologetic smile and watched her friend walk quickly away.

  Maybe I should take the trolley after all. What’s the point of savin’ my nickels if I can’t use them for what I want?

  As Katie Rose headed for the trolley stop, the electric lights of the marquee above the nickelodeon two blocks down flashed on, advertising the evening show and winking against the growing dark.

  Oh! There it is! I’ll just stand outside and see what the billboard says. As though I’ve not read it every day this week!

  But as she drew nearer the lights, her heart beat more quickly. When she was still half a block away, she caught the first faint chords of the tinny piano inside the hall, tripping up and down the keys in a lively quickstep. Energy, even after a long and tiring day at the noisy machines, crept through the thick soles of Katie Rose’s new shoes and up her legs. It tingled in her fingers and up her arms. She hugged them round herself in a vain attempt to keep delight from springing from her chest and clamped her lips to keep from breaking into song.

  “Catchy tune, ain’t it?” a familiar brogue, but lost in the crowd around her, asked.

  Katie Rose didn’t turn at the question. A minute passed as men and women filed to pay their nickel at the door. She stood to the side of the line, tapping her foot and fingers to the music, just as enraptured as she’d been the first time she’d stepped into the world of moving pictures and player piano.

  “Shame to listen to it out here in the cold when we could be sittin’ inside and enjoying the show in the warm theater,” the same soft tenor voice complained.

  Katie Rose nodded in wholehearted agreement but couldn’t bring herself to defy Emma’s admonition. “My friend can’t come tonight.”

  “More’s the pity. Mine, neither,” came the voice again. “We didn’t have that sort of music in Ireland.”

  Katie Rose turned then and was startled to find the man in the checkered cap behind her. But he’d removed his cap and looked more handsome than he had from a distance—certainly no older than Joshua, nor so frightening as Emma had described him. In fact, he looks quite humble.

  “Me name’s James, miss.” He bowed, just slightly, his brogue thick now and unmistakable.

  “You’re from Ireland, sir.”

  “Dublin, miss.”

  “Dublin? That’s near County Meath!”

  “Next door.” He smiled. “You’d not be from thereabout, would you?”

  “I am! I’m from County Meath! My sister and I sailed from Dublin.” It feels forever since I’ve heard anyone from home.

  “Well, it’s glad I am to meet you, Miss—?”

  “O’Reilly.” Katie Rose knew she blushed. She only hoped it was prettily. “Katie Rose O’Reilly.”

  James smiled. “A name like that can only fit a lovely wild Irish rose.”

  Katie Rose’s hand instinctively flew to her cheek. “I’m not one.”

  But James’s eyes widened. “Never one to contradict a lady, but I must this once, for you are, miss. Quite lovely.”

  Katie Rose looked away in misery, praying it was true. Miraculously true.

  “Say, Miss O’Reilly, since neither of our friends were able to come tonight, and since we’re both dyin’ to hear the music and see the show, would you do me the honor of accompanyin’ me?”

  The air stopped short in Katie Rose’s throat. “Accompany you?” Emma would cut me off. Maureen would be furious! Olivia would say . . . she’d say, “Ask yourself, is that what Jesus would do?”

  “Aye, I’d be obliged, miss. I can always go in alone, but it’s never so nice to sit alone, and it seems you’re wantin’ to see the show.”

  If I don’t let him pay my way, it’s just as though I was sittin’ next to a stranger, but I’d not be unescorted, so Emma couldn’t complain about that. Olivia won’t be home until later. She’s helpin’ Dorothy this evenin’. I could be back to Morningside before she knows I’m gone. “Well,” Katie Rose began, fingering the coins in her pocket, “I don’t know.”

  “I hear it’s a dandy of a show,” James urged, smiling very near her face now.

  Katie Rose could scarcely think with him standing so near—so near and as though he doesn’t see my scars! Maybe—

  “Is that you, Katie Rose O’Reilly?”

  Katie Rose jumped at the familiar voice. “Joshua!”

  Joshua tipped his hat. “Are you and Maureen here to see the evenin’ show, then?” He looked about.

  “No, no, Maureen’s not here.” Katie Rose’s happiness evaporated.

  “You’re not out and about alone in the dark, are you?”

  “She’s with me.” James stepped closer to Katie Rose. “We’re off to see the show.”

  Joshua’s eyebrows shot up.

  “I was just on my way home when I stopped to hear the music.” Katie Rose knew she said each word, but her mouth felt as though it were full of straw. “James is from Dublin, so close to home. We just started talkin’ . . . and . . .” But the look on Joshua’s face told Katie Rose that he saw something entirely different. Don’t look so, Joshua! It’s not what you think!

  “James, is it?” Joshua didn’t smile but stuck out his hand. “The name’s Keeton. Joshua Keeton. I’m from Ireland as well. Where in Dublin are you from, then? I know it well.”

  The glint in James’s eye was unmistakable, and Katie Rose saw that the hand he gave Joshua in return was a pump to test his strength. “The show’s about to start, Mr. Keeton. I’m sure you won’t mind excusin’ us.”

  As James offered Katie Rose his arm, Joshua pulled three nickels from his pocket and plunked them into the palm of the ticket seller by the door. “You’ll not mind if I join you—it’s a rare treat to meet someone from home, isn’t it, Katie Rose?” He handed a ticket to Katie Rose, one to James, and bowed to usher them through the door, close on Katie Rose’s heels.

  Maureen had hoped, had dared to ask if she might leave work a few minutes early—early enough to apply elsewhere, though she dared not give her reason. But she w
as kept five minutes past quitting time, for the very presumption of asking, and treated as though her petition was nearly cause for dismissal.

  Opening boxes in the stockroom and running sales tickets up and down the stairs was thankless and humiliating work after having clerked on the sales floor. But that is what they’re countin’ on—that I’ll be so demeaned I’ll quit. And that’s where they’re wrong. I’ve been ground in the dirt far worse than the management of Darcy’s knows how to do. I’ll not quit until I’ve found another position!

  It was a fine boast, but Maureen knew it grew more feeble by the day. She could not pay the rent beyond the next week, not even if she limited herself to one meal per day. How can I do such work on bread and tea?

  At least Katie Rose is safe—oh, I hope she’s safe with Olivia. If only I knew! Maureen pulled her cloak—the cloak she’d found thrown into a corner of the stockroom the second morning of her demotion—tighter around her.

  At least I can go to Mrs. Melkford’s on Saturday. Maureen smiled into the upturned collar of her cloak at the thought. A haven—a haven with food!

  The thought warmed her heart for more than twenty blocks, no matter that her toes numbed. She turned the corner at last, rubbing her fists together against the cold. The lights of the marquee above the nickelodeon halfway down the block flashed. In the blinking lights she saw a familiar form—two familiar forms. It can’t be. How dare he?

  Grim-faced and furious, Maureen marched to the nickelodeon door, but the ticket seller blocked her path. “That’ll be a nickel, miss, and best be quick. Show’s about to start.”

  “I don’t want to see the show. I want my sister. She’s in—”

  “Nobody gets in without paying, miss.”

  “But I’m not stayin’! Do you not hear me?”

  He didn’t seem to.

  Maureen rooted through the pockets of her cloak, but they were empty and holed. “Please, I haven’t got a nickel. I just want my—”

  “Close the doors, Joe! Curtain’s going up,” a deep voice ordered from inside the theater.