James turned his gaze to the flames crackling in the hearth. “I’m afraid I’ve spoiled my eldest daughter, Rylan, and because of that she’s become rather . . . self-centered.” He drew deeply on his pipe and blew out a long stream of smoke. “It’s time she learned there’s more to life than pranks and parties. She’ll never make a proper wife unless she learns to think about someone besides herself. Especially if she ever has children.”
Rylan couldn’t stop his lips from twitching. “I find it hard to picture Colleen with a babe in arms.”
“Which is precisely why volunteering her services at this orphanage will do her a world of good.”
Rylan stiffened, frowning. “Are you sure about this, Mr. O’Leary? Frankly, I doubt she’d last a day.”
James pulled his pipe from his lips, his eyes narrowing. “She’ll have no choice in the matter.”
Rylan released a long breath, his mind reeling. “Let me talk with the nuns who run the orphanage. If they’ve no objection, I can take Colleen with me on Wednesday.”
“Fine.” James stood and shook Rylan’s hand. “I appreciate your help with this. If anyone can help Colleen learn humility, I’m sure it’s a priest and the good sisters of St. Rita’s.”
Rylan left Mr. O’Leary’s study more perturbed than before he went in. Somehow he’d gotten roped into being the provider of Colleen’s punishment.
Images of her furious, mud-covered face from the first day they met came to mind. Heaven help him, he was going to need a buggy-load of patience and prayer to survive this one.
15
GIL WALKED INTO Hastings Bank and Loan and inhaled the smell of lemon furniture polish and money. The nerves swirling in the pit of his stomach reminded him that the newness of the situation would take a few days to wear off. He squared his shoulders, determination filling him. No matter how this turn of events had come about, he would make the best of the situation. The Good Lord had His reasons for bringing him here, and Gil vowed to do the best job possible, no matter how much he disliked it.
He took a long look around the interior of the impressive building. Gleaming dark wood ran the length of the room, divided by iron grills for each teller. Due to the early hour, only one or two customers were being served. On the opposite wall, brass nameplates adorned the doors of several offices.
Gil strode down the main corridor to a desk where a receptionist looked up as he approached. He tugged his vest into place. “Good morning. I have an appointment with Mr. Hastings. Gilbert Whelan is the name.”
“One moment and I’ll get him for you, Mr. Whelan.”
She returned several minutes later with Mr. Hastings behind her.
“Gilbert. It’s good to see you. Please come in.”
Gil shook the man’s hand and followed him to the far end of the building, where Mr. Hastings entered a large corner office. He gestured to a cushioned guest seat while he rounded the enormous desk and claimed the high-back leather chair.
“Once again, let me tell you how pleased I am to have you here. I don’t know what changed your mind, and I don’t care. I’m only going to congratulate myself on my good fortune.”
“I’m glad you feel that way, sir.” Gil let his hands rest on the arms of the chair, willing his nerves to subside.
“My goal is to have you in the loans department as soon as possible. Given your excellent education, I’m sure your training will go smoothly.”
“I appreciate your confidence.”
“Good. Let’s take care of the paperwork, and then I’ll introduce you to the man who’ll be training you.” Mr. Hastings rose. “On a personal note, I hope you’ll join us for dinner tonight. My wife and daughter are in the city for a few days to do some shopping.”
Gil’s shoulders stiffened, but he smiled. “Thank you. I’d enjoy that.”
They walked out into the main area of the bank. “Did you manage to procure a room at the boarding house I recommended?”
“Yes, sir. Mrs. Shaughnessy had a room available on the second floor. So far it’s very comfortable.”
“Wonderful. Everything is falling into place nicely.”
Gil held back a sigh as he followed Mr. Hastings, thinking how everything had fallen out of place and trying not to imagine what Brianna was doing at that very moment.
Bright and early Wednesday morning, Colleen stood on the platform of the Long Island train station, tapping her toe to match the impatience that shimmied through her. What was her father thinking sending her to an orphanage—with Rylan Montgomery of all people? How could she ever hope to meet wealthy bachelors while surrounded by nuns? She huffed loudly, blowing one perfect curl off her forehead. Maybe marriage to Jared wasn’t such a bad idea after all, compared to this penance she was being forced to endure.
“Here comes the train now.” Rylan jogged down the platform toward her, his dark hair waving in the breeze.
Seconds later, the engine came to a grinding halt in front of them amid a swirl of smoke. Colleen held back, stalling until all the passengers had disembarked and the new passengers had entered.
Rylan took her by the elbow and nudged her toward the open door. “Don’t be plotting to miss the train,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve promised your father I’ll make sure you do this, and I always keep my word.”
She shot him a glare. “I’m sure you do.” They mounted the steps and made their way down the narrow aisle, where Colleen chose a seat beside the window. “This whole idea was probably yours to begin with.” She arranged her skirt around her with a flare. “It sounds like something a priest would dream up.”
Rylan took a seat facing her. “It was your father, trust me. I didn’t think Sister Marguerite would even agree to it at first. But my amazing charm won her over.” He grinned, creating dimples in both cheeks.
Colleen scowled and turned to look out the window as the train chugged forward. She shuddered, picturing filthy urchins living in a hovel and the nuns who would surely judge her with self-righteous piety. Perhaps she should have given her plan to seduce Gil more consideration.
“So why did you do it?”
Rylan’s quiet question brought her attention crashing back to the stuffy interior of the train, with its drab plaid seats and grimy windows. He had leaned forward, his intelligent brown eyes missing nothing. Even dressed in his black priest garb and white collar, he managed to make her pulse sprint.
“Do what?”
“Kiss Gilbert. I thought you had an understanding with Mr. Nolan.” He quirked a brow. “Seems to me you couldn’t be that committed to him if you were kissing another man.”
The fact that his voice held no judgment, only idle curiosity, kept Colleen’s temper at bay. The words loose and strumpet had been bandied about in whispers at church the other morning. It had taken every ounce of pride for Colleen to hold her head high as she’d walked down the aisle to their usual pew. Jared’s sister Rebecca’s scathing glare had caused Colleen a rare pang of regret for hurting the Nolan family. Maybe Daddy was right. Maybe she was a vain and selfish creature.
Her cheeks flamed as she realized Rylan was still watching her, waiting for a reply. “I was only having a bit of fun.” She hoped he’d accept her quip and leave her in peace. She was tired of him trying to peer into her soul.
“You like people to believe you’re a tease and a flirt, don’t you? With nothing inside that beautiful head of yours but wicked schemes. I’m wondering why that is.”
“I have no idea what you’re blathering on about.”
“I think you do. And I also think you pulled that little seduction scene for Mr. Nolan’s benefit, so he’d call off your betrothal.”
Colleen’s mouth fell open. Did the man have the power to read people’s minds? She recovered quickly with a lift of her chin. “How could I have known Jared would happen to be in the barn to catch Gil and me?” She fiddled with the cuff of her blouse, not meeting his eyes.
“You likely arranged to meet Jared in the barn and then ambushed poo
r Gil, knowing Jared would be waiting for you.”
“Ridiculous.”
“What I don’t understand is why you didn’t just tell the man you don’t wish to marry him. ’Twould have saved a whole host of problems.”
Her temper flared. “You don’t know my father. Daddy would never have allowed—” She jerked her head up at the realization that she’d just confirmed his suspicions. He smiled knowingly, and she clenched her teeth together to keep from screaming at him.
Rylan reached over to put a hand on her arm. Heat penetrated through her blouse to her arm as though he’d branded her. “I believe a woman has the right to choose whom she marries, and no man, father or not, should have the power to force her to do otherwise. For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re not marrying him. He’s nowhere near good enough for you.” He gave her arm a light squeeze. “You’re worth a great deal more to your family, and to God, than you give yourself credit for.”
Once again her mouth fell open. She clamped it shut, astonished to find tears threatening. In an effort to avoid those penetrating brown eyes, she turned her head to the window and pretended a sudden fascination with the passing landscape.
When they reached their stop, Rylan, who had remained blessedly silent for the remainder of the trip, helped her dismount to the platform below.
“The asylum’s not far. Only a few blocks from here.”
After the stuffiness of the train, Colleen welcomed the fresh air as she kept pace beside Rylan. Right away, the high energy of the city revitalized her. She loved the hustle and bustle of all the people scurrying about, as well as the horses, carriages, and motorcars all jockeying for position on the busy streets. Her spirits lifted for the first time in days.
Rylan guided her across the street to an imposing four-story brown building with a wide cement staircase leading to the main door. An engraved brass sign on the door announced the location as “St. Rita’s Orphan Asylum.”
As they entered the building, the hushed interior proved a far cry from the noise and bedlam she’d expected. The squeak of the door closing behind them seemed almost a sacrilege in the church-like atmosphere.
A woman at the reception desk peered over her spectacles as they approached. “Ah, Mr. Montgomery. It’s good to see you again.”
He beamed at the woman. “Likewise, Mrs. Taft. This is Miss O’Leary. She’s here to volunteer with the children.”
Mrs. Taft smiled at Colleen. “Wonderful. Let me get Sister Veronica for you. Please have a seat while you wait.” The plump woman bustled off down the hall.
Colleen took a seat beside Rylan on one of the guest chairs, marveling at the good taste in decorating. The architecture of the building alone inspired awe with its high ceilings, exquisite moldings, and tall windows. Far different from the rundown slum she’d envisioned. Maybe working here wouldn’t be as bad as she’d imagined.
Colleen looked up to see a nun, dressed in white from the top of her habit to the white tips of her shoes, gliding toward her on the diamond-patterned carpet. Clasped in either hand was a well-dressed child, each walking with solemn confidence.
Rylan shot to his feet. “Good morning, Sister Veronica.”
Colleen envied the nun being the recipient of such a beaming smile. The woman herself couldn’t be more than twenty-one or twenty-two, and the purity of her face shone from beneath her habit. Colleen got slowly to her feet, feeling completely out of her element.
“Sister, this is a distant cousin of mine, Miss Colleen O’Leary. She’s the one I mentioned who would be coming to volunteer with the children.”
The nun stepped forward to take Colleen’s hand. “Welcome, Miss O’Leary. We’re so happy to have you here. The children will be delighted, too.”
Colleen swallowed hard. What if the children hated her? “Pleased to meet you, Sister.”
Sister Veronica indicated the children at her side. “This is Jonathan Feeny and Delia O’Brien. Children, say hello to Miss O’Leary.”
The pair, who couldn’t be more than four or five, bobbed a curtsey to her. “Hello, Miss O’Leary.”
The boy was dressed in short pants and suspenders over a starched white shirt, the girl just as tidy in a yellow dress with a matching bow holding her golden curls in place. Colleen’s image of dirty urchins vanished. These children were adorable. She hoped their behavior matched their appearance.
“What will I be doing while I’m here?” Colleen ventured to ask, looking from Rylan to Sister Veronica.
The nun smiled again. “We’ll start you off slowly, perhaps in the classroom, helping the children with their spelling.”
Colleen fought the dismay that held her breath captive. She never imagined she’d be back in a classroom a mere year after graduating. Still, there’d be no Mrs. Stephens to constantly remind her how brainless she was compared to her brilliant younger sister. Colleen squared her shoulders and attempted to appear confident. How hard could it be to help these little ones with their work?
“Follow me, Miss O’Leary. I’ll take you to Sister Marguerite in the classroom.”
When Rylan made no move to accompany them, Colleen looked back. “You’re not joining us?”
He grinned. “No such luck. Today I’m recruited to paint the dormitories. I’ll leave you in Sister Veronica’s capable hands.” He gave a mock bow and bounded off toward the wide staircase leading to the upper level.
Instead of feeling relieved to be out of his annoying presence for the day, an odd sense of disappointment plagued Colleen’s footsteps as she followed Sister Veronica down the long corridor.
16
BRIANNA REMOVED HER graduation cap and gown and laid them over a chair in the back of the classroom. The chatter of her classmates trickled around her, but she remained detached from the festivities. It had been two weeks since her birthday—two weeks since Gil had left—but it felt like two years. Depression followed Brianna like a fog wherever she went, and today was no exception.
“Come on, Bree,” Rebecca Nolan sang out. “Our parents will be waiting for us in the hall for the reception. I can’t wait to see the cake Mrs. Stephens baked for us.” Rebecca looped her arm through Brianna’s and pulled her out into the hallway. “Wasn’t that a wonderful ceremony? We are now official high school graduates. We have our whole lives ahead of us.”
Brianna winced at her friend’s enthusiasm. Had it only been a few weeks ago that she’d looked forward to her graduation with such excitement? She pulled herself up straight and drew in a long breath, giving herself a stern lecture. She needed to stop moping over Gilbert Whelan and get on with her life.
Brianna forced a bright smile. “So, what big plans do you have for the future, Becca?”
The girls’ shoes tapped over the tiled floor. “I’m going to wait until the summer’s over before I make up my mind.” She bent her blond head closer to Brianna’s. “I’m still hoping Ben Walters will ask to court me. He’s been hinting at it, but I think he’s too afraid to approach Papa.”
“Ben’s crazy about you. I can’t believe he’s taking so long to speak up.”
Rebecca sighed. “If he doesn’t act before the fall, I guess I’ll head off to college. Maybe I can catch myself a college man.”
Brianna pressed her lips together to keep a silent scream from coming out. She’d give anything to be in Becca’s shoes and have the support of her father to go on to college. But Becca was merely waiting around for Ben.
Why did a woman’s life always seem to hinge on the whim of a man?
They came to the room where the principal and the teachers had arranged a reception for the graduates and their families. Somehow Daddy had managed to invite Henry along—a fact that irked Brianna to no end. After all, he wasn’t a member of the family, and . . .
It should have been Gil.
She’d always imagined Gil’s proud face in the audience when she accepted her diploma. Not Henry’s.
Brianna swallowed the ball of emotion that seemed permanently lodged in
her throat since Gil’s departure. For her mother’s sake, she attempted to pull herself together and pasted on a smile as she crossed the room to greet her family.
“Congratulations, darling. We’re so proud of you.” Her mother hugged her tight, surrounding Brianna with the comforting scent of her perfume.
“Very proud,” her father repeated, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head.
For once, her father seemed pleased with her. Of course he was, since she was doing exactly as he wanted. That wisp of truth stole her fleeting happiness.
Henry came forward and pulled her into an awkward hug. “The next celebration will be our wedding.”
Brianna freed herself, shock wiping the smile from her face. “But that won’t be for a long time yet.”
Her father raised a bushy brow. “Why wait? The sooner the better, I say.”
Mama patted Daddy’s arm. “James, darling, don’t forget how much preparation is involved with a wedding. Especially the type of event you’re talking about. Why, the invitations alone could take weeks.”
Unease slid along Brianna’s spine. “I don’t want a big, fancy wedding. A simple ceremony at St. Rita’s will suit me fine.”
Henry frowned at her. “Between all the O’Learys, the Sullivans, and our combined business associates, it has to be big.”
Mama glanced nervously at her and squeezed her arm. “There’s no need to discuss this right now. Tonight is about Bree’s graduation. Let’s all go over and get some of that cake before it disappears.”
By the time Brianna returned to Irish Meadows, her nerves were strained to a high pitch. All she wanted was to escape to her room and hide under the quilt until everyone forgot all about wedding plans.
Her parents, however, left her to say a private good night to Henry on the porch. Now that they were officially engaged, her father afforded them a lot more freedom to be alone—a turn of events Brianna did not welcome.
Henry led her to the side of the house where the porch wrapped around the brick wall like a hug. They each took a seat on a wicker chair. The summer night was the perfect temperature, yet despite the warmth, a chill ran through her.
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