Band of Sisters

by Cathy Gohlke

  The ticket taker shrugged. “I gotta close the door, lady. Ya payin’ or not?”

  “I don’t have a nickel.” Maureen could not keep the quiver from her lip.

  “Don’t take it so hard, miss. There’ll be another show next week.” And he closed the door.

  Katie Rose could not believe her predicament or her exquisite good fortune. Caught by Joshua in the act of goin’ into the nickelodeon with a stranger! Escorted by two handsome gentlemen at once—Joshua Keeton himself beside me!

  The piano played, and Katie Rose’s imagination raced faster than the pictures that flashed across the screen. Wait until I tell Emma! It’s all right now that Joshua’s here. He’s no stranger—an old family friend, really. Perhaps he sees me as more than a friend, more than a girl, after all. Perhaps now that he sees James takin’ an interest, he will too.

  But what will I do when the show’s over? I must get back to Olivia’s before I’m missed. What if one or both of them ask me to stop for a bite of supper or a cup of tea? It will be dark as dark when we walk out. . . . I’ll ask Joshua to walk me home—he knows Olivia. It will be all right. But what about James?

  Katie Rose smiled in the darkened theater, sighed contentedly, and leaned closer to Joshua. Such delicious quandaries!

  An hour later the doors opened and a chattering Katie Rose, flanked by two handsome Irishmen in a cheerful crowd of theatergoers, waltzed onto the sidewalk.

  “Did you hear the mournful melody when the soldier lay dyin’—and when his sweetheart found him? If only I could play a piano like that, I—”

  But Katie Rose never finished. Blood drained from her face the moment her eyes caught her sister’s. She watched in horror as Maureen, eyes blazing, stormed across the street and pushed through the crowd. Katie Rose slipped her arms from Joshua’s and James’s, wishing she could melt into the pavement for what was surely coming.

  But Joshua stepped before her.

  “Get out of my way, Joshua Keeton!” Maureen growled. “What do you mean takin’ my thirteen-year-old sister about like a trollop?”

  “Fourteen! I’m fourteen, though you never took notice of my birthday!” Katie Rose, her heat returning, shouted back.

  “Ladies.” Joshua spoke quietly as heads began to turn in their direction. “Perhaps we could talk about this over—”

  “There’ll be no talkin’. Katie Rose, you’re comin’ with me!” Maureen yanked Katie Rose’s arm, but Katie Rose, to her own surprise, yanked back.

  “You’ll take your dirty hands off me, Maureen O’Reilly. You’ve no right and no say about me—not anymore.”

  Katie Rose jumped back as Maureen lifted her hand to slap, but Joshua caught it in midair.

  “Maureen, Katie Rose is all right. No harm has come to her. You must calm yourself.”

  Katie Rose marveled that any man could stop her sister’s tirades cold. And then she remembered James. What must he think of my hellish sister? Now that he knows how young I am, he won’t want anythin’ to do with me. But when she turned to speak, to explain, he’d gone. “There, Maureen. We had a guest and you’ve scared him off—you with your vile temper.”

  “Him?” Maureen was visibly shaking.

  “A friend.” Katie Rose lifted her nose. “A very nice friend and gentleman. But you’ve scared him off.”

  Maureen looked in horror at Joshua. “To think I nearly trusted you!”

  “Joshua, I’m sorry Maureen has taken on so. But as it’s late and I need to return to Morningside, would you please walk me home?”

  “Home?” Maureen said feebly.

  But Katie Rose ignored her. “Please?”

  Joshua looked anything but comfortable, but he offered Katie Rose his arm.

  Katie Rose nearly stumbled when Maureen jerked her quickly away.

  “Don’t you know he’s usin’ you? Don’t you see he’s no different than Mr. Crudgers?” Maureen pleaded.

  Katie Rose pushed her sister’s arm away and hissed, “That’s a filthy thing to say, and ’tisn’t true! What I see is that you’re jealous. Just because a good man won’t look your way, you can’t imagine one would care for me. Well, I’m not you!”

  Maureen stepped back, visibly stunned. Katie Rose knew she’d as good as slapped her sister. But she wouldn’t take it back. She didn’t want to take it back. Even now she saw the concern written on Joshua’s face for Maureen. That was the last thing she wanted. “Come, Joshua. I must get back to Olivia’s.” And she pulled him away.

  Maureen tossed and turned until the clock in the bar below stairs bonged three. She gave up sleeping, washed and dressed, waited until the clanking milk wagon made its early rounds, then slipped downstairs before another soul stirred in the building. She walked the blocks toward Darcy’s without bread or tea, stopping to knock at every shop that shone an early morning light behind locked doors.

  “Please, sir. I’m lookin’ for work. I’m a hard worker, and—” But each door, of the few that were opened to her, was closed in her face, most without pity. By the fifth closed door, Maureen passed her hand over her brow, dizzy from lack of sleep, lack of food, from cold so penetrating it numbed her feet and hands.

  “Just somethin’, Lord, anythin’! I’ll do anythin’. Please, please take care of Katie Rose until I can find enough work to take care of her! Mend her foolish ways!”

  She hardly realized she’d been praying, let alone aloud.

  “He’s takin’ good care of her, the very best.”

  Maureen whirled round so quickly she slipped on a patch of ice. “What are you doin’ here?”

  Joshua extended a hand to steady her, but she slapped him away. He stepped back, reaching into his pocket. “I’ve somethin’ for you.”

  “I want nothin’ from you except a promise to leave my sister alone.”

  “Last night wasn’t what you imagined.”

  “It’s what I saw!” Maureen’s blood rose to a furious boil. “I know about men like you—men who take young girls, and—”

  “That’s enough.” Joshua’s voice was low and nearly threatening. “I came upon your sister last night just as she was about to go into the nickelodeon with a man she’d met on the street.”

  “That’s a lie. Katie Rose would never—”

  “But she did! The man’s a weasel, a con artist, a seducer of innocent girls. I broke in so she’d not—”

  “A friend of yours?” Maureen knew the moment the biting words left her mouth that they weren’t true. She knew from the white of Joshua’s complexion as he stood beneath the streetlamp that she’d pierced him.

  “Do you think that of me, Maureen O’Reilly?”

  Maureen stood trembling, furious at Katie Rose, at Olivia, at Mr. Kreegle, Mrs. Gordon, Mr. Crudgers, at Jaime Flynn and Drake Meitland—at the whole world, except Mrs. Melkford. But what of you? You were with Katie Rose last night! I saw you! She thinks you fancy her—she thinks she loves you!

  “I don’t know what to think.” Maureen put a hand to her head and swayed in her weakness.

  “Trust your instincts, Maureen. Trust the God who made you, who wants to help you.”

  Maureen scoffed, “The God who—”

  But she stopped midsentence when Joshua handed her a paper wrapper. “It’s a mite smashed, but it will help.”

  “What?”

  “A sandwich. Cheese and ham.” He pulled an apple from his other pocket and pressed it into her hands.

  She stared at them as if they were a gift too great, too precious to receive. “I don’t know what to say.” She could not stop the tears that fell.

  Joshua guided her across the street and down a block into Washington Square. “How about somethin’ like, ‘Mmm, I didn’t know you could whip up a feast like that, Mr. Keeton.’”

  She fumbled with the paper, barely able to pull the wrapper back. He took it from her, opened it, and placed the sandwich in her hands, then gently pushed her to a seat on the first bench they came to.

  Still she held it, her
throat tight, her heart full, her mind awhirl.

  Joshua clasped her freezing hands, bowed his head toward hers, and prayed, “For these Thy gifts, O Lord, we are truly thankful.”

  A peace, foreign to Maureen, fell lightly upon her, like an early morning mist on dry ground. Joshua let go her hands. She breathed, then breathed more deeply. She took a bite. He sat near, and his body blocked the rising wind.

  The dawn had truly come when Maureen opened her eyes and lifted her head from Joshua’s shoulder. Light poured through the winter-bare branches of trees. Men and women, on their way to work and market, walked the paths quickly, sometimes stealing a curious or reproving glance at the couple on the bench.

  Maureen realized they must look like lovers spooning and sat up straighter, shrugging Joshua’s arm away.

  “’Twas only to keep you warm and let you sleep.” He pulled his collar higher.

  “I don’t—”

  “I want only to be your friend, Maureen. I’ve no desire for anythin’ but your good and that of Katie Rose. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  Maureen felt her face flame, certain he’d read her thoughts. “You saw her back to Morningside last night, then?”

  “I did. Safe and sound. And I’ve told her to send word to me when she wants to go to the pictures again. I don’t want her goin’ with that bloke I found her with.”

  “Who was he?”

  Joshua shook his head. “Not sure. But I’ve seen him hangin’ around the Triangle Factory as well as Darcy’s for some time now. He follows girls. I don’t know where or what he does. But I don’t trust him.”

  “The Triangle Factory and Darcy’s? You’re followin’ me? And Katie Rose?” Maureen felt a prick of alarm.

  Joshua held out both his hands. “It’s not the way it sounds.”

  “Then tell me, how does it sound to you?” Maureen tilted her head in frustration, digging her fists into her hips.

  Joshua threw up his hands in surrender. “I’ll explain everythin’—all you want to know and all that I know. I’ll explain it this very day. Only, if I do it now, you’ll be late for work. I’ll not have you blame the loss of your position on me as well.”

  Maureen realized the sun was nearing eight o’clock and that she was blocks from work. She grabbed her purse and fled, calling behind her, “I hold you to that, Joshua Keeton!”

  Maureen had been agitated all day. When the closing bell at Darcy’s finally rang, she was more than surprised and self-consciously pleased to find Joshua Keeton waiting for her two blocks from work.

  She’d never been escorted to a restaurant, not even a delicatessen, by a gentleman, let alone had one hold the door or a chair for her. She wasn’t sure she liked sitting across from a man in public when everything was dark outside, but she wasn’t sure she didn’t. She simply couldn’t think what to make of Joshua Keeton.

  Either he’s tellin’ the unvarnished truth, or he’s an excellent liar. How can I tell which?

  “But why would Curtis Morrow hire you to follow us? He barely knows us.” Maureen’s mind sharpened with the hot food and tea.

  “I’m thinkin’ it’s partly that you and your safety matter to Olivia Wakefield. What matters to Miss Wakefield matters to Mr. Morrow.” Joshua smiled—shyly, Maureen thought—as he placed his cup in its saucer. “But there’s more.” He sobered. “And that accounts for my work and Morrow’s chief business in all this.”

  Maureen waited.

  “It’s a delicate matter to be speakin’ to a lady about.”

  Maureen straightened, wary, not used to being referred to as a lady, but allowing the word to seep into her thinking.

  “Have you heard the words white slavery and—?”

  Maureen felt her spine go rigid. She stood so quickly that she knocked over her chair. Joshua caught it before it hit the floor. “You nearly had me fooled, fool that I am!” She grabbed her cloak.

  Joshua leaned across the table and took hold of her wrist. “Maureen!”

  “Let go of me!”

  “Maureen, settle yourself and hear me out.”

  “You’re like the rest of them!” She wrenched free and pushed toward the door. But then she turned, flaming in fury. “You’ve shamed your family name!”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Joshua throw coins to the table and tear after her.

  Maureen knew she should run, but she was too tired, too disappointed, too broken. When he caught her as she turned down an alley, she clawed the air, aiming for his eyes. “I nearly trusted you!”

  “You can trust me—you should trust me, you devil of a woman!” Joshua’s voice broke, and he pulled a handkerchief to dab the blood her nails had drawn across his face. “I want to help you—you and Katie Rose—and those like you.”

  “Like me—prostitutes? Is that what you think me? Do you want me to say the word, Mr. Keeton?” She wondered if her mam’s heritage was emblazoned on her forehead.

  “I mean defenseless women and girls—immigrants and orphans and any woman desperate for a start in this land with no one to protect her.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t want to traffic you, foolish woman—I want to save you from traffickers! I want—Curtis wants—to bring the monsters to justice. To see them hang!”

  Maureen held her breath.

  “When I saw that James character go after Katie Rose last night, I nearly lost my mind.”

  “James?” He can’t mean . . . “What was his full name?”

  Joshua, still dabbing at his cheek, waved aside the question. “Don’t know, but I’ve seen him go after the girls. I’ve not caught him in the act, but I’m sure he’s part of—of their disappearin’. We just haven’t found his connections or where or when they’re taken.”

  “Why? Why does Curtis Morrow care? Why does he do this? The police don’t even care.”

  “Good men—police or no—care, and we mean to do somethin’ about it.” He pulled his jacket closed as if suddenly mindful of the cold. “But it’s hard to get anythin’ done with crazed women beatin’ me off like I’m the enemy.” He picked up the cap Maureen had knocked to the ground and slapped it against his knee. “Not every man is a cad. I’m not the one you should be afraid of, Miss O’Reilly.” And he strode toward the head of the alley.

  Maureen sank against the building, the fight gone out of her. In rapid succession, her mind ran scenes from the horrific weeks since Joshua Keeton, with his horse and trap, had rescued her and Katie Rose at County Meath’s crossroads in the dark of night.

  Rescued?

  She thought again of the deception of her mother, of the manipulation and cruelty of Julius Orthbridge, of the threat of Gavin to Katie Rose. Yes, you did rescue us. No matter this trouble, I’ve slept every night in America without fear the door would open and that monster would appear. What if you’d been there the night Eliza and Alice were stolen, instead of Officer Flannery? Would you have tried to stop them? Oh, God—dare I trust him? Who can I trust?

  Trust Me. There it was—the voice again. The voice that pushed itself past everything else in her brain.

  The same peace she’d felt that morning, while sitting on the bench beside Joshua as he’d prayed, stole through her, a calm in her storm, a pause in her rapidly beating heart.

  “Joshua.” The word was a whisper. She knew he could not have heard it as he turned the corner onto the street. Maureen roused herself, steadied her feet, began to walk and gradually to run toward the head of the alley.

  But when she reached the street, he’d gone, disappeared into the dark. Joshua! I’m sorry—I’m sorry.

  Maureen covered her face with her hands.

  At last she turned her feet toward the only home she knew—her flat in the tenement. Mine for the remainder of the week. And then what?

  She’d not gone fifteen steps when a figure emerged from the dark, nearly upon her before she realized his presence. “Joshua!”

  “I don’t care if you don’t trust me. I don’t care if you swear nothin’ t
o do with me. But I’ll see you safely home and behind closed doors before I leave you standin’ in the dark in the midst of this city, Maureen O’Reilly.”

  Maureen stared at him, unable to discern his features but knowing all she needed to know from his return, his presence, the obstinate tenderness in his declaration. A moment passed before she spoke. “Tell me why.”

  “Why?”

  “Why you trust Curtis Morrow.”

  “He’s a good man—an honorable man—and he’s tryin’ his best to do a good work. A work that you mustn’t let on you know anythin’ about—for your sake as well as those he’s helpin’.”

  “But he’s a friend of Drake Meitland.”

  “Not a friend—a business partner, and only that for show, for gettin’ to know the man’s business, whatever it may be. You’ve no reason to trust Drake Meitland, nor should you. Be careful of the man. Curtis is.” Joshua breathed out. “But don’t count the two men from the same cloth.”

  A memory dawned in Maureen’s mind. “Is that why you kept us from the Wakefields’ pew on Sunday? All that escortin’ and la-di-da, that was more about keepin’ us from them—from Mr. Meitland?” Maureen tried to conjure the picture. “And you, you didn’t want him to see you. He—”

  “That’s all I can say for now. It’s up to Curtis to tell you more, if you choose to trust him—if you choose to trust me. What I’ve learned from Curtis is that it’s not enough to stop a bad man from doin’ one bad thing. You have to stop him at his source—lest he prey upon thousands. And that takes time.”

  Maureen held her breath.

  “You’ve been dealt with harshly by those who should’ve sheltered you in the past. You’re right to be wary.” Joshua lowered his voice. “If I could break the neck of the man who hurt you or the yoke of that past, I would. I swear it. But you’re in a new land now—we’re both in a new land. You must lay down that past if you’re ever to go forward, to claim this new life.” He looked away, hesitated, looked back. “You’re a rare woman, Maureen O’Reilly. It would be more than a shame to miss all that lies ahead.”