“I understand that,” he said. “But a life is a life.”
“It is, but there is also nothing wrong with having money.” She placed a hand on her chest. “That’s why Da wanted me to open a boardinghouse. So I could make money. Have money. Be independent. I’m not going to feel bad when that happens because I will have worked for it, earned it, just like you do, and your father did, and your grandfather.”
“This isn’t about money,” he said.
“Isn’t it? You want everyone to be compensated at the same rate.” She shrugged. “That’s impossible because there is no set rate that will ever satisfy everyone. Some people feel rich when they have a hundred dollars, and for others, a million isn’t enough.”
He huffed out a breath. She was right. He walked to the window, stared out it. He didn’t know what he wanted; all he knew was that something had changed inside him and he didn’t know what, or what it meant.
Her hands came around his sides and she hugged him from behind, her body up against his. He laid his hands on her forearms folded across his chest. Her embrace was comforting, yet torturous. He wasn’t sure why until she spoke.
“That emptiness you feel inside,” she whispered, “is grief, Karl, from losing your brother. Someone you loved very much. Making the White Star Line compensate everyone, at the same level, won’t make it go away. Part of it will never go away, but the pain can’t be released until you admit it’s there. Once you do that, day by day, it’ll get better. I promise.”
That couldn’t be it. He was stronger than that. Only the weak showed their pain. He’d done that once, years ago, and was punished for that. He couldn’t do it again. Wouldn’t. Yet, as those thoughts raced across his mind, something inside him broke loose, spreading an intense pain. He tried to breathe through it, to not react, but her arms tightened as she pressed closer against him.
The comfort of her embrace was a stark contrast to the hurt inside him, and in some ways, it felt stronger. Her comfort was stronger than his pain? That was impossible. The pain inside him was rioting. He had to push her away. Tell her to leave, so he could be alone, bury the pain back inside him. That’s how he had to deal with it. That’s how he’d always dealt with it.
He twisted, grasped her shoulders.
Tears were on her cheeks as she looked up at him, and her arms, still around him, held on as tight as before. “Benjamin’s gone, Karl, but I know in my heart that he’s so glad you’re here. Still watching out for him, like always.”
His throat burned as he swallowed a vibrating growl. The pain inside him was like a storybook ogre. Trapped and clawing to get out. He didn’t want to expose her to that. She was too beautiful, too kind and caring. He shook his head, fighting against the desire to pull her close while believing he needed to push her away.
“I want to help you, Karl. Please let me.”
Her plea was barely a whisper, yet echoed in his head as if she’d shouted it, like she was holding out a hand for him to grasp as he was falling.
“I promise it will get better. I know. I’ve been there.”
Her words struck him again, echoed in his head, but it was the touch of her lips against his cheek that he reacted to. He looped his arms around her, pulled he up against him and buried his face in her hair. She had been there and the pain inside him hurt for her, too. Then, it was as if a dam had let loose inside him, releasing a river of dark raging water. Benjamin was dead. Gone. Forever. He hadn’t wanted to admit that, not even to himself, but it was true. So very true. And that hurt, knowing he was gone forever.
Annette was gone, too. So was Bridget’s father. He held her tight as thoughts—pain—kept flowing and flowing, until there was nothing left to flow, leaving him feeling drained. As he breathed in the soft, enchanting fragrance that was uniquely Bridget, a sense of calm, tranquility filled him.
He lifted his head and couldn’t think of a way to express his gratitude to her, other than to kiss her. In appreciation. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead and held them there, eyes closed, absorbing just how precious she was to him at this moment.
They shared another smile when he ended the kiss and looked down at her again.
“I’ll see who is at the door.”
Confused, he asked, “What?”
“Someone is at the door,” she said. “Willard’s not here, so I’ll see who it is.”
“I’ll come with you.”
Phil Weinstein was at the door, and removed his bowler hat. “Hello, Karl, I have some news for you.”
His heart sank. He knew the news. “Benjamin and Annette?”
Short, with round glasses and a barrel chest, Weinstein nodded.
He waved a hand, inviting the man in, and his heart sank a bit deeper as he saw the moisture in Bridget’s eyes.
She squeezed his hand briefly and flashed him a trembling smile before she turned and walked toward the staircase.
He led Weinstein into his office and closed the door. “Where are they?”
“Here,” Weinstein said. “The ship just docked. They’ve been embalmed and are on ice, but an immediate funeral is advised. The bodies are being transported to the undertakers on Twenty-Ninth Street.” He held out an envelope. “I’ve been directed to give you this, as well.”
“What is it?”
“Compensation for your niece and her nanny, from the White Star Line.”
Karl’s jaw locked tight as he opened the envelope. Two checks, both made out to him. “Why do they both have my name on them?”
Looking confused, Weinstein said, “Your niece is a child and the nanny is employed by you.”
“The only reason Bridget—Miss McGowen—is being compensated is because she’s employed by me?”
“You paid for her ticket, didn’t you? Or your brother?”
Karl laid the checks on his desk. In the beginning, he’d wanted to see Benjamin and Annette’s bodies brought home, buried here. That was insignificant now. Bridget was right; that wouldn’t bring them back.
Pushing the air out of his lungs, he turned. “Thank you, Phil, for bringing the news. For coming over.”
“We do hope this settles things for you.” Weinstein curled the brim of his hat into his palms. “Your presence at the inquiry has, uh...um, been stirring the pot, so to speak.”
So that was the true reason for the checks. “Has it? I wasn’t aware of that.”
“Other investors lost family members, too, Karl. Large investors. Prominent people. It’s important for the company to be assured that you’re satisfied, as satisfied as you can be with the circumstances as they are.”
Weinstein was merely the messenger. Karl had to tell himself that to keep his temper in check. “Circumstances that should never have occurred.”
The other man nodded. “Very unfortunate circumstances. New regulations will be put in place. The inquiry will require that.”
Yes, it will, because that’s their goal. Nothing else. Karl walked to the door of his office, opened it. “Thank you again for coming over.”
“Shall I convey your satisfaction?”
Karl crossed the foyer and opened the front door. “You may convey that you completed the task asked of you.”
Weinstein stumbled slightly, but walked out the door.
Promptly shutting the door, Karl glanced up the staircase, at Bridget standing there. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she slowly walked down the steps and straight to him, into the arms he held wide.
* * *
Bridget wrapped her arms around his waist and held on tight. For him. For her. For Elsie. For Benjamin and Annette. She wished she could do more to help him, but knew only time could do that. When she felt able, she eased her hold, rubbed his back and softly kissed his cheek. “We need to call the church.”
He gave her another tight hug, then leaned back and nodded. �
��Is Elsie still sleeping?”
“Yes, so I can help you with whatever you need.”
“I don’t know what I would have done without you these past two weeks,” he said.
It was the other way around. She didn’t know what she’d have done without him. Listening to Catherine and Sean speak of what they’d gone through, including their hospital stay, made her feel guilty that she’d been welcomed into Karl’s home immediately. Given food, clothing, a place to stay, a job. She owed him so much.
She shook her head. “You would have been fine.”
He grinned. “I wouldn’t have been cursed, twice.”
Pinching her lips to keep from smiling, she took a step backward. “How do you know? Maybe someone else would have done that.”
His hands slid to her waist. “Probably, but theirs wouldn’t have been as cute as yours.”
The warmth of his palms penetrating her dress made it difficult to think. “Cute? They weren’t meant to be cute.”
He kissed her forehead, and she closed her eyes at how that made her heart thud.
“Yes. Cute.” He slid one arm around her back, while twisting toward his office. “And they were cute.”
“Don’t you believe in curses?” she asked, walking across the foyer beside him.
“I’m not sure how to answer that.”
“Why?”
He stepped aside at the doorway, so she could enter the room, but kept his hand on her back as he walked in behind her. “Because if I say yes, you’ll tell me why I shouldn’t, and if I say no, you’ll tell me why I should.”
Twisting, she looked up at him. “That’s because some curses need to be believed in, and others don’t.” Leaning closer, she whispered, “The trick is knowing the difference.”
He caught her waist with both hands again. “How would I know the difference?”
She gave him a secretive look. “You’d need the luck of the Irish to know that.”
“I think I have found that.”
Her breath stalled, so did her heart as he leaned closer, until their lips met.
Warm, soft, his lips moved slowly across hers, as if teasing hers to kiss him back. She shouldn’t, but the desire was too great. It was fun, the way her lips caught his, then moved, and his followed, catching hers, like a game of tag.
His hands on her hips pulled her closer. She pressed her hand against his chest, then curled her fingers beneath his suspenders, holding on as his lips captured hers over and over.
Some captures were longer, some were quick, fast. All she could think about was more. She didn’t want any of it to stop.
She didn’t know when his hands cupped her face, but that’s where they were when he gave her a long, firm kiss and then leaned back. She opened her eyes, and a smile tugged on her lips at seeing how brightly he was smiling.
“Yes, I do believe I’ve found the luck of the Irish,” he said.
Tilting her head, she replied, “And I believe you have kissed the Blarney Stone.”
His thumb brushed over her lips as he shook his head. “It doesn’t feel like a stone to me.”
It was impossible for her to think straight. Her heart was pounding. No, it was skipping rope. “You are trouble, Karl Wingard.”
He laughed. “I’ve been called worse.” Releasing her, he stepped back. “But it’s never sounded as charming as you make it sound.”
She let go of his suspenders. If he could make her heart jump rope, he could steal it, too. Without her ever knowing it. “I—I need to go check on Elsie.” She left the room, and hurried to the stairway, sucking in air the entire way. Losing her heart was not something she could do. Not now. She had promises to keep.
A long time ago, she’d thought she’d lost her heart, to Jamie Flannery. She’d been sixteen and Da had warned her then that losing her heart would change her life, and that she shouldn’t let that happen until she was ready for everything to change.
Jamie hadn’t stolen her heart, but he hadn’t made it skip rope, either.
Elsie was awake, playing on the floor with Copper, and as Bridget made the bed she thought about Jamie, how he’d grown tired of waiting for her to want things to change and married Hannah Cooper. They had two children now; one was Elsie’s age.
That could have been her. Having babies with Jamie. She’d still be in Ireland, living with Jamie’s family.
Da had been right. She hadn’t been ready for everything to change back then. She wasn’t ready now, either.
She did like Karl, and wondered how long he’d wait for someone to be ready for everything to change.
A bark cleared her mind, and knowing what that meant, she said, “Copper needs to go outside. Let’s hurry.”
They made it outside in time, and while they were in the backyard, a truck arrived and two men helped Sean carry lumber in through the gate and pile it up near where he’d put stakes in the ground.
Bridget brought Elsie and Copper back inside so they wouldn’t get underfoot, and upon seeing Karl in the hallway, she felt a pull inside her, like a rope. And he was on the other end, tugging it.
She wouldn’t lose her heart to him, couldn’t, because even though her life had already changed in many ways, it hadn’t been in the way it was supposed to change. She wasn’t supposed to be here. In New York. She had to go to Chicago, make Da’s dream come true. That was her destiny. Furthermore, when the time came—if it came—for her to lose her heart, it would never be to a man like Karl.
However, right now, he needed her help. Not only with Elsie, but in finding his way through all that had happened. In a situation like this, even strong tough men like Karl needed help. When Da died, if it hadn’t been for Mrs. Flannagan helping her with all the details, giving her a shoulder to cry on, things would have been harder.
She patted Elsie’s shoulder. “Take Copper into the kitchen for a drink of water.”
As Elsie carried the puppy through the kitchen door, Bridget walked down the hallway to where Karl stood talking with Willard.
She was about to stop far enough away to not be eavesdropping, when he held out a hand to her, encouraging her to come closer.
“I’ll see to it immediately,” Willard was saying as she stopped next to Karl. “Is there anything else?”
“I’m sure there will be,” Karl said, “but that’s all for now.”
Willard nodded and glanced at her with such sad eyes her heart constricted as he walked away.
Karl took ahold of her elbow. “The funeral will be tomorrow. At the church. I need to drive over to the undertakers now.”
She laid her hand atop his. “Would you like me to come with you?”
His smile was soft, sad, as he shook his head. “No, that’s not necessary.”
“I’m not saying it’s necessary. I’m asking if you’d like me to go with you.”
He rubbed the underside of her chin with one knuckle. “I don’t want to expose you to that. So no, stay here.”
She considered insisting, but had to respect this was something he felt he had to do by himself. “All right. Is there anything else I can do?”
He placed a soft kiss on her temple. “Just be here when I get home.”
“I promise.”
As she watched him walk away, she wondered how different things would be if he wasn’t who he was. A rich man. A very handsome man. But instead, a man she could give her heart to, because she was afraid that she was falling in love with him. In fact, it was becoming impossible not to.
Chapter Eleven
The funeral drew a church full of people, and a large number of them stopped by the house after the service, mingling from room to room, nibbling on the trays of food set out and softly conversing about Benjamin, Annette and the tragedy that had brought about their demise.
Bridget had attempted to distance herself from Karl, be
cause she was an employee, but he’d kept her at his side, introducing her by name and not as Elsie’s nanny. The way that had made some people lift a brow worried her.
He was holding Elsie, and upon seeing her yawn, Bridget touched his arm. “I’ll take her up to her room,” she said quietly. “It’s well past her nap time.”
They were in the foyer and he stepped closer to the staircase. “I’ll carry her upstairs for you.”
Just then, as if the puppy had known Elsie was going up to her room without him, Copper came rushing down the hallway.
Laughter abounded at how his long ears flapped and his little paws stumbled, going in all directions at times while he ran around and even through the legs of people in his rush to get to the steps.
Bridget bent down and scooped up the puppy as he slid to a stop at the bottom of the staircase.
“My word,” an elderly woman standing nearby said. “That was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. When did you get a puppy, Karl?”
“Last weekend,” he replied. “Copper and Elsie have become best friends.”
The woman patted Copper’s head. “That’s wonderful. It’s just what she needs right now.”
Catherine slid up behind Bridget. “I’m so sorry. He slipped out while I was carrying dishes into the kitchen,” she whispered. “I’ll take him.”
The laughter seemed to stop abruptly, and the silence that followed made Bridget’s spine quiver. All eyes had gone toward the open front door, and the woman standing there.
The woman was tall, slender and dressed in black, including a short veil attached to a small hat that covered the upper half of her face.
“Catherine,” Karl said, “would you take Elsie up to her room for a nap?”
“Of course.” Catherine held out her arms.
Karl handed over Elsie, and Bridget looked at him as he took the puppy from her and put him on the steps to follow Catherine. Duty said she should follow Catherine, but everything inside her wanted to stay right here. Karl’s face had turned to stone. The woman had to be his mother.
A Family for the Titanic Survivor Page 15