Miss Ellie continued. “The name of the young man, then nothing more than a boy, was Thomas Reilly…”
Molly thought she saw Mr Dixon draw a sharp breath, but it could have been no more than normal.
“… Please, sir, do you know if it might be the same gentleman?”
Mr Dixon stood up and paced across the room. He was silent for a moment, before speaking very precisely. “And why, might I ask, are you searching for him?”
He looked now to Molly for a response. She wondered how much of the story she should tell. What was most likely to make him cooperate? Would he be more guarded if she declared he was her brother or if she said he was a friend? It was clear that William did not want to own her as a sister. Could what she said now make matters any worse? This man seemed kind but he was, after all, a lawyer. “He was… my friend.”
Miss Ellie showed a look of surprise, but Mr Dixon seemed to relax slightly. “Then I’m sorry you’ve had a wasted journey. I’m sure if William says that he does not know you, then he is the one who would remember. I can only think that the boy you are looking for is another one. I’m sorry that we cannot help.” Then in a business-like fashion he said, “Now, if you are fully recovered, I’m afraid I have a meeting to get to, so I must leave you. I’m sure my son can you show you out when you are ready.”
Before they could have time to protest he picked up his hat and coat and made for the door. They heard him speak to William as he left. “We’ll talk later. I’ll be back around four.” Then he was gone, leaving William hovering awkwardly in the doorway.
Molly was quiet when they left the lawyer’s offices. She felt numb and had no idea how to understand what was happening. Every sense told her this was Tom, but if it was, why was he not welcoming towards his sister? Might it be that he didn’t believe it was really Molly? She sighed and gently shook her head as though willing her jumbled mind to fall into order.
Miss Ellie didn’t intrude on her thoughts, but instead lent her a steadying arm as they walked and asked no questions. They were back at the guest house before much conversation passed between them.
“What do we do now?” Molly asked, desperate for someone to take charge of the situation, but having no idea what could be done.
“We can stay a few days if you think it will help. Maybe approach the young Mr Dixon again.”
Molly shook her head. She remembered the fiery temper and the stubborn will of her brother and knew it would take more than time to change his heart. Falteringly she said, “I see little point in staying… It might be worth finding an address so that perhaps I could write a letter to him… Maybe even that will be hopeless.” The tears started to trickle down her face and she dabbed at them with her handkerchief. “We can at the very least leave an address where he can contact us.” She looked down at her hands, fidgeting with the small square of cotton. “I think maybe it’s time to move on.” She closed her eyes and felt the full desolation that had been building since earlier in the day. Her own brother didn’t want to know her. She had never thought her quest would end like this.
“Maybe we should still go out to the farm tomorrow and take lunch with Mrs Franklin. She may be useful to us if we tell her a little more of why we’re here. It will only delay our journey a day.” There was a pause and then Miss Ellie said, “And do you still want to go on to find your friend, after…?”
Molly looked up sharply. “Daniel! Why, of course.” She felt herself flush. She couldn’t possibly go home without finding Daniel first.
Molly spent the evening trying to compose a letter to her brother. She chose every word with care, hoping above all that nothing she said would drive him further away, but instead might draw him to trust her.
William Dixon, Esq.
Dear Mr Dixon,
I’m sorry we had little opportunity to talk earlier. I have travelled to Dowagiac from Pierceton in search of my brother, Thomas Reilly, whom I last saw some ten years ago, before he left New York in the hope of a better life. I have thought of him often over the years and wish him nothing but goodwill. For my own part, my life has passed pleasantly, working for Miss Ellie Cochrane on Cochrane’s farm just outside Pierceton. I was to have married Mr Henry Spencer, had the good Lord spared him in this dreadful war, but sadly that was not the case. The loss of him has made me ever keener to find those others whom I have held so dear this last ten years. I am now leaving Dowagiac to travel on in search of another good friend, Mr Daniel Flynn, whom I have also not seen since he left New York, but with whom I hope to be reunited.
I would ask that if you become aware of the whereabouts of my brother you would be kind enough to make my address known to him, in the hope he might at the very least be in a position to write, telling me of his fortune.
Yours sincerely,
Molly Reilly (Miss)
Chapter 20
“William?”
His father had approached him without his being aware. He folded the letter and dropped it to his side. “It’s nothing, sir.”
His father nodded, though William was sure that his answer had not been believed. This man was a lawyer, after all, and quite used to working to gain the truth. William wondered if his best option would be to tell his father the whole story, or at least a sanitised version of his life that might pass for the truth without a lantern being turned on it.
“Those two ladies…?”
“Yes, sir?” William looked at his father, avoiding his direct gaze.
“Am I right to guess you do know who they are?”
“Not the older one, sir. I’ve never seen her or heard her name before this day.”
“The younger one?”
William felt his face colouring and he looked down to his shoes. What could he say to stop the enquiry going further? “Yes, sir. I knew of her.”
“You knew of her, or you knew her? There is a very particular difference.”
William felt as though he were in the courtroom and accused of some crime. He pursed his lips as he thought. “I knew her, sir.”
Despite the fact that he was still looking down, he saw his father nod an acknowledgement of his words.
“William, look at me.”
Hesitantly, he lifted his gaze. Although his eyes settled on his father’s for a moment, he looked away again and toward the window.
“Why did you deny them, William?”
He gulped. Why indeed? His quick thinking had saved him from many situations in the past; now he wondered if it could do so again. “I… I was trying to protect Ma, sir.”
His father nodded as though that were a natural thing. “And pray what were you protecting her from?”
William raised his hands in the air and shrugged his shoulders. “Sir, it’s hard to explain. I was scared that if she knew of my background, Ma might not love me anymore. Sir…” For the first time he looked Pa in the eye. “I like being your son and being a family. I’ve never had a real family before and this is my home. What went before is not important to me. I don’t want Ma to know how poor we were, or how hard my life was. I want her to think of me only as her son.”
Much of what he said was the truth. Sure, he left out the bits about petty thieving, picking pockets, the gangs and the brawls, but they were the very things he didn’t want Molly to bring back. Of course, he knew who Molly was. He’d recognised her as soon as he’d seen her. He’d felt a ripple of shock run right through him when he’d turned in the street. He didn’t want to be made to think about denying her. If he started developing a conscience now, then he’d be in deeper trouble than simply pretending he didn’t know his sister.
Pa came across to him and patted his shoulder. He was smiling a soft, indulgent smile and William knew the angle of protecting Ma had won favour. “We knew something of your past when you came to us…”
William gulped.
“We knew all you boys were poor and orphaned, or you would not have been riding that train. Beyond that… well, we’ve never needed to know anything mo
re and won’t ask now.”
William felt the tension going out of his shoulders. It was over. He was safe.
When his father left the room, William went over to the fireplace and dropped the letter into the flames. Prodding it with the poker, he made sure that every corner was burnt before straightening up and going back into the hall. He hoped that might be the last he heard from Molly. He had a new ma now and didn’t need to see someone who looked so like the one they’d buried in a pauper’s grave.
William could not sleep that night. He was haunted by memories he had long since buried and at one point he awoke convinced that Patrick Mahoney Junior had come to take his new life away. He sat up in the darkness, trembling. The night was quiet. He went to the window and opened it wide, breathing in the fresh air as he looked up to the stars in the clear night sky. He could be a million miles from New York and that was exactly how he wanted to stay. He resolved to make sure that Molly had left the town the following day. If not, he would need to encourage her to do so, by whatever means it took. He wondered if he should offer her money, if only she’d leave him alone, but that would mean going to Pa. He closed the window and returned to the crumpled bed. Sleep did come, although fitfully, and when he woke in the morning he felt little refreshed.
It was lunchtime before he could get away from the office to make enquiries as to whether the ladies had left by the morning train. He passed a group of women who he could have sworn stopped talking as he went by. He wondered if they had heard stories of why Molly had been there, but how could they know? What would it have to do with the likes of the local farmers’ wives? He straightened his back slightly and walked more briskly, his chin in the air.
He didn’t want to ask directly whether Molly had caught a train away from Dowagiac, or for that matter to ask where they had bought tickets to. It was hard to see how he might work a conversation with the station master around to the subject without asking outright. It was more of a problem as he didn’t want a ticket for travel himself. He was sitting on a bench at the end of the platform watching the world go by and wondering what to do, when the station master walked from his office, checking all was in order.
“Many travelling?” William asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.
The station master looked glad of someone to talk to and sat at the other end of the bench. “Just one or two. If it weren’t for the wheat we’d never stay in business.”
William nodded. “Where do folks go to when they travel from here?”
“Most want a one-way ticket to the fighting. God willing, they’ll be needing a return.” He looked off into the distance and William felt frustrated, uncertain what to say next.
After a while, the older man looked at him quizzically. “Didn’t you travel by the train some while back?”
Will felt himself stiffen. Did everyone in Dowagiac suddenly think they knew his past or was the man thinking of another time? He was relieved not to have to answer when the man continued. “Take those ladies that came in a couple of days ago. They were looking for someone who’d come in from New York, if you will.” He shook his head. “One of those orphans…”
William felt himself relax a little. He spoke slowly and carefully. “And did they find who they were looking for?”
“I don’t rightly know, but they bought tickets to move on to Iowa City, so I reckon they’re probably still looking.”
William tried not to smile as he moved the conversation toward everyday pleasantries. He’d found what he needed to know. They’d gone, but it discomfited him to think they had not gone back to Pierceton but might have travelled on in search of Daniel. He swallowed hard. Maybe Molly would be satisfied if Daniel were pleased to see her, and not bother her brother any further. He closed his eyes and tried to let the stress of the last few days seep away, but like an itch, something niggled, and he had no idea how to stop it bothering him.
Chapter 21
The train journey that led Molly away from Dowagiac was not nearly as exciting as the one which had taken her there. Not only was she starting to feel like a seasoned traveller, but the anticipation of seeing the boys she had loved so well was replaced with a sense of foreboding. She wondered if she should give up on the whole idea of finding Daniel, after her experience with Tom. Her mind wandered to those fighting against the South. Maybe it would have been better to find that Tom had died in the war. At least then her treasured memories would not feel as though someone had taken a horse whip to them. She thought of Henry and wondered if she shouldn’t just go back to Pierceton and mourn her loss. She had been conscious of Miss Ellie watching her for a while and smiled at her guardian.
“You’ll never get another chance if you don’t go now.”
“I know.” She could feel the weight of sadness pressing on her, but was touched by how well Miss Ellie knew her.
“It would be a great shame if you were not able to find Daniel either.”
Molly knew from the way Miss Ellie spoke that she was in no doubt that William was her brother. She took a deep breath. “Miss Ellie, I know I’ve asked before, but why do you think he didn’t want to know me?”
“Oh, child, you don’t have to answer this, but if you can, please tell me – what was life really like in New York?”
Over the years Molly had told much of her story, but had left out the worst that Tom had been involved in. She looked up with tears smarting at the corners of her eyes. “Tom was a pickpocket and a petty thief.” There, she’d said it. “Daniel would sing and draw a crowd while Tom took what pickings he could. He only did it to survive… we’d have been without a roof a lot longer if he hadn’t.”
Miss Ellie nodded. “And what did you do, child?”
“I never stole. Oh, I took what was left in the streets, but never what had not been cast away.”
“And now, child, what life is your brother leading?”
“Why, he works with his father as a lawyer’s clerk.”
Miss Ellie nodded. “Then it’s not likely he’d want his past well known, is it?”
Molly could see what was being said. “Daniel never stole. He tried to earn money by his singing.” Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “He had a beautiful voice. It was like listening to an angel.”
“We will find him,” Miss Ellie said with determination in her voice, “and I will hear him sing.”
Molly looked up and smiled. She thanked God for the strength of this woman who had taken such good care of her. Then, as the train rumbled toward Iowa City, she reflected on what Tom might have to lose and began to forgive him. She thought she would write to him again, in the hope that as William Dixon he might get to know her, although maybe, for him, even that would jeopardise too much.
The journey to Iowa City was an arduous one, even though they stopped and rested overnight a couple of times to break the trip. Molly wondered what it must have been like for Daniel and hoped he’d had company on the journey, as she had. Miss Ellie had taken to keeping a journal of their travels and was relishing every detail of the adventure. For Molly, it was the arriving that was more important, rather than the travelling.
For the most part, the women travelled in peace, but one afternoon their contemplation was broken by the arrival of a middle-aged man with a very large curled moustache.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” he said upon joining their carriage, and proceeded to light up a large cigar, which soon filled their compartment with smoke.
Molly could see the displeasure written across Miss Ellie’s face as she wafted the smoke away from her journal. “Sir, if you please, we’d rather you didn’t smoke in this carriage,” Miss Ellie said with a steely voice.
The man seemed untroubled by her comment as he puffed out another hazy cloud. “And there was me thinking you fine ladies would appreciate the company of a man to protect you on your travels.” He leered at Miss Ellie, then got up and moved across to sit by her.
“Sir…” Miss Ellie’s voice came out in a higher p
itch than normal. “I would thank you not to be so presumptuous.” Miss Ellie shrank back into her seat as the man drew nearer to her.
“Now that’s not very welcoming, when a fine gentleman offers you his services.”
Molly thought for a moment that the man’s speech might be slightly slurred and she wondered what she should do. She knew Miss Ellie was more than capable of handling herself, but the man looked undaunted. Molly looked around the carriage for anything she might use in their defence and her eyes lighted upon a walking cane that had been left in the corner of the carriage.
Miss Ellie was moving to stand up, but the man restrained her with his hand.
“Unhand me, sir. This is most unacceptable.” Miss Ellie’s voice quivered as she spoke.
“Come on,” he replied, “two women travelling on their own, you’re asking for a man’s company and don’t deny it.”
Miss Ellie swatted the man with her pocket book, but made no real impression on him.
His focus remained on Miss Ellie, leaving Molly free to stand quietly and reach for the cane. Then, with the pent-up anguish of the events of a few days previously, Molly raised the cane and in a voice both strong and confident said, “You will unhand my friend now, as she has asked, or I will not be responsible for my actions.”
As he saw Molly with the cane raised above him, he drew back, and at the same time the compartment door opened and the guard was there.
“Sir,” Miss Ellie said breathlessly, “would you please ask the… gentleman… to leave this carriage and find another place to sit.”
“Come along, sir.” The guard offered a hand to help the man up. “What’s been happening here?”
The man sounded haughty as he spoke to the guard. “Whatever do they expect, travelling on a train without a man accompanying them? Isn’t it obvious they must be in want of a gentleman?”
“Ladies,” the guard said, tipping his hat to them as he escorted the man to another part of the train. Then he closed the carriage door behind them and left them once again in peace.
New York Orphan (Tales of Flynn and Reilly Book 1) Page 18
