by Sarah Cass
“Now let’s go. Pearl and Delphie will be most upset with us if we don’t manage to glean good seats to see the races.” Patrick snatched her hand and tore down the stairs.
Kat could barely manage a squeak of protest to his handling before they were in the wagon. Breathless, she adjusted her hat again, tucking the ribbon behind her ears. If she wasn’t worried about the wind near the lake she’d not bother with the ribbon at all. “Will we be staying for the fireworks?”
“That’s the plan. It’s glorious to celebrate Independence Day. Especially with the end of the war. Everyone is truly celebrating again, instead of the reserved celebrations of the past few years.”
Kat, like everyone else, had breathed a sigh of relief when Lee had surrendered several months before. Unlike everyone else, she knew why Patrick had relaxed, and why he’d never joined.
Despite his airs and accent, Patrick was the Georgia-born son of a slave owner. When the first grumblings of war had come, his father had turned tail and headed north. They’d abandoned a fully running plantation chock-full of slaves and remade themselves in Chicago. The reason Patrick and his sister never spoke is because she’d returned to Georgia, embarrassed by her father, and married a man who had since died in the war.
Patrick had feared his own sister’s death for most of the war, but she’d survived according to his sources. His parents, however, hadn’t stopped running in Chicago. They’d left for England and left Patrick, who’d refused to go with them.
Of course, Patrick was a smart young man, and though he was only a few years older than Kat, he’d managed to maintain his wealth even during the war. He’d managed to get wealthier, too. She knew he had his hand in several industries, from war materials to land, and she envied his prowess.
“Have you tried again?” She knew he often tried to reach his sister, but more so since Lee’s surrender.
“It’s of no consequence today.” He tapped her knee. “Here we are. I’ll get Pearl and we’ll go to the celebration.”
Kat didn’t push further. He was right; tonight was about celebration.
First boat, and then horse races, and the many confectionary delights of the celebration. Then her favorite part: the fireworks.
Tomorrow she’d worry more about Patrick. Tonight they’d be free.
* * * *
The next morning Kat struggled to get out of bed. Somehow she managed, and made it to work right on time. To her disappointment, Delphie didn’t quite manage to make it to work. Kat didn’t have time to worry, for Delphie’s absence meant Kat had to do her job for her.
The day was plenty busy, keeping Kat distracted from worrying about her absent friend. When she left work, Patrick was already waiting with his friend Aaron for her and Pearl. They dined, and returned home for more pleasures.
When she got to work the next morning, Kat fully expected to find Delphie waiting to tell the story of her absence. However, she wasn’t there again.
Kat did her best to focus on work, but she couldn’t concentrate. Halfway through the morning, she grabbed her things and left without a word. She’d likely lose her job, but concern gnawed her belly too strong for her to care.
She rushed to the telegraph office and sent a wire to Patrick at home. Within minutes she received a response to wait where she was. She paced in front of the office until Patrick showed up in the carriage.
He held open the door long enough for her to get in. The moment it closed, the carriage took off before she’d even sat. Concern creased Patrick’s brow. “She wasn’t at work today either?”
“No. It’s just not like her, Patrick.” She tapped her fingers on her knee, silently willing the carriage to go faster. “You know she even showed up after he hit her. The powders did nothing to hide it, but she was at work anyway.”
“I know. I agree. Delphie wouldn’t miss work two days in a row.”
“I understood yesterday. I didn’t wish to be there, either. We celebrated too long into the night, but now that I think about it, that wasn’t like her either. I’ve seen her come to work still groggy from our revelries the night before.”
“She’s fine.”
She didn’t know whom he was trying to convince, but she didn’t protest. His words had to hold true. Kat didn’t know what she’d do if they weren’t.
The carriage came to a stop and they both darted for the door. Kat let him open the door, but burst through ahead of him. She raced to Delphie’s door and pounded on it with the flat of her hand. “Delphie? Delphie, darling, open up! Delphie?”
Patrick circled the house and peered into the windows. “I don’t see Charles or Delphie.” He kept circling around out of sight.
“Delphie!” Kat’s voice squeaked and she pounded with her fist. “Please open the door. I’m worried about you.”
“Kat!”
Panic seized her heart into a tight knot and stopped her breath. She couldn’t move, didn’t want to dare see, but she had to. The shatter of glass stirred her from her fear, and she tore around the corner toward the back of the house.
As she rounded the corner, Patrick shoved open the back door. “Delphie!”
Kat stopped short inside the door as the state of the kitchen hit her. The table was upended, silverware scattered across the floor amidst shards of porcelain from the plates Delphie had bought with such pride.
Try as she might, Kat couldn’t ignore the blood smeared her and there. She blinked rapidly to try to keep the tears at bay. Patrick had disappeared from view, and her worry that Charles might still be around pushed Kat through the kitchen into the hall.
Patrick stood stock still outside the bedroom.
Kat approached slow, and slipped her hand in his as she drew near.
“Go back.” Patrick’s voice was a tense rasp.
“No.” She drew up beside him despite her quaking soul. The heart she’d been convinced was lodged permanently in her throat dropped like a stone into her stomach. Kat gagged at the onset of fear and pain, her hand spasmed in Patrick’s. “No.”
Inside, a faint path of blood trailed along the floor to the bed. There lay Delphie, her features bruised and swollen, dress torn half off. Kat was sure she saw more blood on her friends back, but was afraid to approach to be certain.
Patrick moved before Kat could gather herself, and strode to the bed. He knelt down next to Delphie. The moment he set his hand on her shoulder, he drew it back as if he’d been bit. “Delphie?”
Kat scrambled into the room behind him at the declaration and set her own hand on Delphie’s back. “She’s not dead. Delphie, darling. Please open your eyes.”
A quiet moan filtered through the hushed panic of the pair. One of Delphie’s fingers twitched, but that was all.
“We must get the doctor, Patrick. Maybe she’ll be saved.” Kat grasped Delphie’s hand against her chest, ignorant of the blood now. The tears she’d held back burned her eyes when he turned a doubtful gaze her way. “Please, please, we must try. We must.”
Patrick nodded, and after a kiss to her forehead, left the room.
Kat scanned the room and saw the wash basin still had water in it. “I’ll be right back, Delphie. I swear I’m not leaving your side. Just don’t die on me. I can’t lose you. Patrick can’t lose you. We need you, Del.”
After she’d swiped at her own tears, Kat rushed over to the bowl and carried it back to the bed. She dropped the sponge in before turning her attention to Delphie. With shaking hands, she peeled back the torn dress until Delphie was free.
As she untied the corset, she noticed the blood centered around one spot in Delphie’s back. She ran her finger along the clean tear in the fabric and bit back a sob. “Delphie. I’m sorry, this is probably going to hurt.”
Patrick’s footsteps echoed back down the hall and he rushed over to set his hand on Kat’s. “Hold on. Let’s make this a little easier.”
Kat wrinkled her brow in confusion when he disappeared again. He disappeared into the sitting room, and she heard h
im rummaging around before he appeared in the hall with a pair of scissors. She sighed and nodded, holding out her hand when he approached. “That will help, but I’ll probably need your help to turn her over once I’m done with her back. Any sign of...”
“No. While I was sending Frederick for the doctor, the neighbor said he thought she’d seen both Mister and Missus Finney leave early yesterday morning. They had trunks, so she assumed they were going on a trip.”
“What?” Kat cut the corset ties quickly and peeled aside the corset. “Who could have been with him?”
“Probably one of his whores,” Patrick said quietly. He hissed and set his hand near the cut in her back.
Kat wrung out the sponge and started to clean Delphie’s back. “Let’s not discuss it. Let’s talk about what we’ll do when Delphie is healed. Where we’ll go. Obviously we won’t stay here, what new town should we terrorize?”
“Kat,” he whispered.
She nudged him sharply with her elbow and shook her head. “I’ve always wanted to see New York, but I bet women like us are a dime a dozen there. Don’t you think so, Delphie?”
With Delphie’s back cleaned, they both hesitated. Patrick set his hand near the wound again, and pressed gently. Delphie moaned, and a trickle of blood escaped.
Kat sucked her lips between her teeth and sank next to the bed. “Delphie. Please open your eyes. The doctor will be here soon. You’re going to be all right.”
Delphie’s unbruised eye fluttered half open. A tear slipped to the muslin beneath her head. Her mouth moved, but the words were too quiet. Kat leaned closer to hear Delphie say, “Sorry. I should...have...left...”
“Shhh. None of that talk. You’re going to leave this time. Just like you promised.” Kat smoothed her hand over Delphie’s hair. “I can hear the carriage out front. The doctor is coming. You’re going to be all right. You have to be.”
The doctor burst into the room full of questions and demands.
There was no time for chatter or hope; all Kat could do now was pray.
* * * *
Patrick sank into the chair beside Kat. While she held Delphine’s hand, Patrick placed his own on Delphie’s leg. He cleared his throat. “I’ve let Pearl know, and she’s sending word onto the Auxiliary.”
Kat knew he meant the suffrage group they met with. With a shaky breath, she nodded. “Good. They should know.” There was so much to say, so much to do, but Kat couldn’t tear herself from Delphie’s side. Without knowing how much longer they had, she was loathed to be anywhere else.
The doctor had done the best he could, she supposed, but it hadn’t mattered in the end. In Kat’s head, her friend had fought valiantly, and that’s why she was so much worse off.
“I just want her to wake up,” Kat said. Sorrow heated her eyes and her nose twitched against the burgeoning tears. “For a little while. I want her to remember she was loved. I want that to be what she sees when...”
Patrick wrapped his free arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple. “I sent a wire to Matthew, but he’s in St. Louis. I don’t know if he’ll be back soon enough.”
She wiped away her tears again, angry they wouldn’t stop flowing. “We’ll tell her. She’ll wake up. Just once, she has to.”
“She will,” he whispered.
“Did you hear that, Delphie? We need you to wake up. Please, just for a little while.” Unable to keep her voice steady any longer, Kat bowed her head. She covered her tear-filled eyes with her free hand, hiccupping sobs growing louder.
When Patrick pulled her close, she curled into him and let the tears flow. He soothed her quietly, and she cried until she was too tired to shed another tear. Too tired to fight when he lifted carried her to the sitting room sofa, she gave in to the clutching fingers of sleep.
She woke to Pearl shaking her gently. “Kat, wake up. Delphie’s eyes are open.”
Kat tense and flew to her feet so fast the whole room spun.
“Easy.” Pearl laced her arm around Kat’s waist. “I’ll help you there, then leave you and Patty to say your goodbyes. The doctor and I are in the kitchen if you need anything.”
“The kitchen.” Kat swallowed at the embarrassing squeak in her voice.
“You’ve been napping for hours. Some of the ladies came to clean it up. At least enough for us to use it while we need it.” Pearl stopped at the bedroom door. “Go on.”
Kat attempted a smile of gratitude, but then slipped into the room without another word. When Patrick waved her over, she flew to the edge of the bed. She both sobbed and laughed when Delphie turned her head. “Oh, Delphie.”
“Shhh. Stop that.” Tears shimmered in Delphie’s eyes. “I haven’t the energy for tears.”
“I’m just so happy to see you.” Kat clasped her friend’s hand. “You know how much I love you, right? You and Patrick, you’re my family now.”
“And you are mine.” Delphie’s smile was weak, like her voice. “I’m sorry I was so stubborn. This could have...”
“Now it’s your turn to stop.” Kat’s voice caught and she smoothed her free hand over Delphie’s forehead. “Just relax. The blame isn’t yours, it never was. Remember those that loved you. Patrick, myself, Matthew.”
“Tell him,” Delphie whispered.
“We will,” Patrick interrupted. He took Delphie’s other hand, and grabbed Kat’s free one. The circle completed, like the first night they’d solidified their friendship, they all grew quiet. Patrick cleared his throat and stretched his neck like his throat held the same solid lump in it Kat’s currently possessed.
Kat laughed weakly. “Well, Delphie, I think you’ll be the one that manages to make Patrick cry first. What did we bet on for that one again?”
“Supper at Chez Jacque, dessert at Millie’s Confections.” Delphie’s voice was barely a whisper. “I can taste the ice cream.”
“And you’ll have it. You’re free now. Free.” Kat squeezed Patrick’s hand tight. “Don’t you worry about Matthew; we’ll make sure he’s all right.”
“And each other...” Delphie opened her eyes again. “And don’t let...me...ruin marriage...for you.”
“You haven’t.” Kat shook her head.
“We were opposed before you,” Patrick agreed. “Don’t worry. We will always be friends. It won’t change.”
“Promise,” Kat added. “We will never forget you, or each other. Don’t fear for us.”
“Don’t fear for me,” Delphie smiled.
“I’m not. I’m just missing you.” Kat kissed the back of Delphie’s hand. “Now relax. Stop worrying about us. We’re going to be fine.”
Together the three of them remained, hands clasped as quiet words filtered between them. For as long as she had strength, Delphie kept a part of the conversation. When she grew too tired, she whispered, “I love you,” to them both.
They held on as she grew quiet, refusing to let go until Delphie released her last breath. In the moment, they both held their breath.
Kat’s sobs drew the others into the room, and Patrick ushered her away from the bed. He drew her into the sitting room where they could have privacy. She welcomed his embrace and tried to return his comfort as they both wept for their loss.
“Nothing will ever be the same,” she whispered.
“No. It won’t.” His voice was muffled, his face buried in her hair. Somehow she knew he was trying to hide his tears. “We will persevere. For Delphie.”
“For Delphie.”
* * * *
Kat sat on the settee, her chin balanced in her hand as she stared out the window. Outside the world went by as normal, but she felt the world had gone gray. While she and Patrick had both said they’d persevere, it turned out to be harder than she’d imagined.
Patrick, for his part, moped about the house. Except for one hour where he thrived on his anger and stormed about muttering about Pinkerton’s, he’d done little but remain quiet and still as Kat herself.
Soon they would leave for the funeral, a
simple ceremony planned and paid for by the suffrage league. They’d offered to let Kat plan the whole thing, but she didn’t quite feel up to it. The loss dragged her down until she found even getting out of bed a challenge each day.
Patrick cleared his throat in the doorway. “It’s time.”
She rose and took his outstretched hand. Part of her wondered if her eyes held the same haunted emptiness as Patrick’s. With a shaky breath, she laced her arm through his and let him guide her to the carriage.
The ride to the cemetery passed in silence, their hands clasped as if the action would hold back the overwhelming emotions. Once there, members of the suffrage and temperance leagues greeted them. They nodded their way through condolences to the small, simple grave.
Kat knew what was happening, she just felt numb, unable to allow any of the people to see how deeply the loss cut her. When it came time to speak, she was grateful Patrick had told her in advance he’d be the one saying words. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to speak without losing her thin hold on control.
As always, Patrick spoke with eloquence and strength, weaving his mourning into an almost poetic tribute. When he was done, he moved right back to her side and set his hand on her shoulder, providing her with strength she sorely needed.
The reverend, a stranger to Kat and likely to Delphine uttered words of kindness and prayer that rang false after Patrick’s stirring eulogy. Then, all too soon, a shovel was held out toward her.
Kat kept her hands clasped in front of her, unable to take the instrument that would make this finally real, turn it into more than a horrifying dream.
“Katherine,” Patrick whispered. He never used her full name, so she knew he was concerned, but she just couldn’t make herself move.
“I can’t.”
He reached around her and took the shovel, guiding it into her hands. “Together.”
Somehow she managed to nod, although that might have just been caused by the tremor that ran through her when her hands closed around the wooden handle. With a shaky breath, she shoved the spade into the dirt, and let Patrick help her lift it to turn it onto the coffin.
The world dimmed and disappeared behind a veil of tears when the dirt hit the pine coffin, resonating as if the box were empty. Only it wasn’t empty, as much as she wanted it to be. The sob wrenched from her throat, and she didn’t fight Patrick when he folded her into his chest.
