by Jody Hedlund
“In light of such a compliment, she may be willing to bring you another cup of lukewarm coffee.”
“More lukewarm coffee? I don’t deserve such a treat. But tell her I humbly accept.”
How was it this man could make her smile so easily when few people could elicit even the tiniest amount of joy from her? She supposed in some ways she convinced herself that she didn’t deserve joy, not when she’d failed to protect and provide for her family. They deserved so much more than a life of poverty, and she hadn’t been able to change their circumstances . . . except for the worse.
As her humor faded, his expression turned more serious. “How’s Miss Pendleton doing?”
“She’s worried about the reverend and rightly so.”
Thornton peered out a crack between the boards covering the window nearby. “I expected him back by now.”
After the long day of waiting and speculating about what was happening on the streets, some of the women had talked about leaving. They were worried about their children being home alone amidst the violence and wanted to be with them. Elise would have wanted to leave too were she in their situation. Reverend Bedell was sympathetic and agreed to accompany them for their protection.
“Do you think something happened to him?” Elise asked.
“I’ve been praying he’s safe.” Thornton rubbed a hand across his eyes. “The streets have been quiet for the past hour. Hopefully the worst is over.”
“Would you like me to stand guard for a little while so you can take a break?”
He hesitated. “I’ll be all right now that I’ve had that delicious meal.” The delay was enough that Elise wondered if he was anxious to return to his home too. She guessed a man like him probably had more important things to do than watch over the women who worked at the mission.
She went back upstairs and filled his plate with more chicken and dumplings. Then, with another tepid cup of coffee and the full plate, she returned to the front hallway. He ate the second helping more slowly, seeming to savor every bite. Finally he finished the meal along with his coffee.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stand guard so you can rest for a bit?” she asked, taking the empty plate and cup from him again.
“No.” His eyes were softer, the worry lines gone from his forehead. “But I would appreciate the company. Otherwise I’m afraid I’ll die of boredom.”
“I may not be all that more exciting.”
“Trust me, you’re more exciting than I am.”
She wasn’t sure if Miss Pendleton would approve of her staying with Thornton unchaperoned. Nevertheless, she set the plate and cup on the floor next to the lantern and leaned against the wall across from him. She couldn’t refuse his request for company, not after the way he’d helped all day and without a single complaint.
Besides, there was something intriguing about him. She could banter easily with him, and for a while he entertained her with stories of his escapades during his childhood with his twin brother.
“Bradford sounds like he was quite the instigator,” she said after reining in her laugher in response to his story about how he and Bradford had climbed out of their bedroom windows and crawled across the roof of their house in order to switch rooms. Bradford had been the one to suggest the plot after their nursemaid locked them in their rooms and then bedded down in the hallway between their rooms to prevent them from switching places in the middle of the night as they’d done too many times in the past. But the nursemaid failed to take into account what lengths the brothers would go to in causing trouble.
“Bradford was the mastermind behind most of our adventures,” Thornton admitted with a nostalgic smile. “And I willingly went along with him, so I wasn’t without blame.”
“It sounds like you really love your brother.”
“We’re still friends,” Thornton said slowly as if choosing his words carefully. “But the downside to being a twin is that only one of us can come out on top.” In the flickering lantern light, emotions played across his face. Regret, frustration, sadness?
“Does it matter if there’s a ‘top’ or not? Can’t you be equals?”
Thornton released a sigh that made his shoulders sag. “Unfortunately, no. Not with a father like ours.”
Before she could find the words to respond, a rattle of the door handle made them both jump.
“Thornton.” A raspy voice spoke from outside. “It’s me, Guy. Reverend Bedell. Let me in.”
Thornton quickly unlocked the door and swung it open, helping the reverend inside before closing and locking the door again.
Elise assessed the reverend at the same time as Thornton, noting he appeared disheveled but unharmed. “You’re all right?” Thornton asked.
The reverend nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. And the women are home safely.”
Elise let out a breath, relieved.
“Thank God,” Thornton whispered.
“Yes, I thank God for another miracle. It was no easy feat delivering them to their apartments, considering some of their buildings were overrun with gangs, who were on the rooftops showering the police and any other militia with stones and bricks.”
“Has the fighting stopped?” Elise asked.
Before he could answer, Miss Pendleton came running down the hallway toward them. Her normally tight hair was loose, and her usually composed face was taut with anxiety.
At the sight of her, the reverend broke away from the door and started toward her with long strides that spoke of his own relief. When he reached Miss Pendleton, she gave a small cry and threw herself into his arms at the same moment he swept her into an embrace. He held her for a long moment before pressing a kiss against her forehead.
Finally the reverend released Miss Pendleton, but held her hand as they ambled toward where she and Thornton stood near the door. Miss Pendleton’s smile at the reverend could have lit an entire city block. From the tenderness with which he regarded her, Elise was reminded of the love her father had bestowed upon Mutti. He’d adored her. With each passing year of increasing poverty and debt, he blamed himself for the hardships his wife had to endure. Sometimes Elise couldn’t help but think that all his guilt and despair had been the cause of his failed heart.
She reached up and fingered the outline of Mutti’s wedding ring, which hung on a thin leather strip beneath her bodice. She traced the edges of the cross that formed the front of the silver band. Other than the cross, the ring was simple and without jewels, not the kind of heirloom she had to worry about anyone stealing. Even so, it was the most precious thing she owned. Mutti had given it to her just before she died.
Elise watched as Reverend Bedell kissed Miss Pendleton’s temple. It was refreshing to see a couple who cared so deeply about each other, a couple who also worked well together. It was as if God had handpicked them for each other—if that sort of thing was really possible. She certainly didn’t expect such an intimate relationship for herself. She was too busy to think about love and marriage.
“So when’s the wedding?” Thornton winked at the reverend.
His grin widened. “Not soon enough.”
“Guy,” Miss Pendleton whispered with a reprimanding tug on his arm. Even in the dim light, it was easy to see her face had turned a bright shade of pink.
Elise tried not to fidget at the nature of the jesting, but she was suddenly aware of Thornton’s arm near hers. When he smiled and winked down at her, her heart began to race. She pressed her hand against her chest, feeling Mutti’s ring again. She’d never reacted this way to a man before. Of course, she hadn’t had any real suitors, and even though Reinhold had asked her to marry him, he didn’t count. He was her friend only, more like a brother than a beau.
She held herself absolutely motionless so Thornton wouldn’t sense her strange reaction. Thankfully he didn’t seem to notice and instead queried the reverend for more information about the condition on the streets.
The reverend informed them of the news he’d gleaned during his time a
way. The hostilities had escalated. By midday close to a thousand armed men from rival gangs were fighting in the area of Five Points. The police had attempted to stop the aggression and had begun arresting gangsters. But as soon as the police left the area, the fighting resumed in greater force. The Dead Rabbits and Bowery Boys each set up barricades of pushcarts and large stones, all while firing weapons, hurling bricks, and clubbing each other.
Thieves, thugs, and other criminals who weren’t affiliated with the gangs used the opportunity to attack businesses, stealing whatever they could get their hands on and wreaking destruction in their wake. Several fires had been set to houses with the residents still inside.
When the police learned the fighting had grown in scale, they tried to return to the area but had been pushed back, many of them getting injured in the process. The police commissioner then called in the military, and around nine o’clock in the evening the New York State Militia, their bayonets affixed and ready for use, marched down White and Worth Streets. Two police regiments had accompanied the militia, going ahead and fighting back the gangsters and rioters.
“The show of force was enough to send the gangsters fleeing back to their hideouts,” the reverend said.
Thornton shook his head, his expression one of disbelief at all the reverend had shared. “Do you think they’re done now with their brawling or will it resume again?”
“Well, the police and national guardsmen are patrolling the streets and arresting anyone who looks suspicious.”
“I guess that means I should wait to leave?” Thornton asked.
“Yes, since you look so suspicious, you probably shouldn’t show yourself.” The words were out before Elise could stop them, and once they were, she wished she could take them back, especially as Miss Pendleton’s eyes narrowed at her in disapproval.
Thornton chuckled. “I think you’re right. After all, I do look like quite the rogue, don’t I?”
Another sardonic remark was on the tip of Elise’s tongue, but she glanced at Miss Pendleton and held it back. Instead she forced herself to respond respectfully, as a young woman ought to. “I was only jesting. The truth is that no one would mistake you for anything other than a gentleman.”
Thornton’s brows rose. His brown eyes dared her to tease him again, as though he was waiting expectantly for more.
Rather than give him what he wanted, she said, “I should be going.” She retrieved the empty plate and coffee cup and started down the hallway.
“Good-bye, Elise,” he called after her. “It was nice meeting you.”
She nodded at him in return. And as she shuffled down the hall, she suspected his good-bye would be the last time she’d hear from Thornton Quincy.
Chapter 6
Marianne Neumann peeked around the corner and saw him. She jerked back against the brick wall, her breath coming in sudden bursts. She hoped but hadn’t expected him to be outside today with his family. He usually wasn’t there. Or at least he hadn’t been on the previous Sundays she’d returned to her old neighborhood to look for him from a distance.
Had she just dreamed him there? Did she miss him so much that she’d begun to imagine seeing him? She slid along the wall and looked toward the front of the tenement, where families were resting on their day off, attempting to escape the stifling heat that became trapped in the tiny two-room apartments.
Her gaze locked on him immediately. His build and broad shoulders were hard to miss. His brown hair was sun-streaked after the months of working outdoors doing the construction work that had given him thickly muscled arms. Her heart pattered faster at the sight of him, and she couldn’t keep from soaking him in. When he reached for one of his little sisters and tossed her in the air, Marianne smiled at the girl’s squeals of laughter.
At the moment Reinhold lowered his sister to the ground, he glanced in her direction and froze. Marianne quickly jumped out of sight and pressed herself against the building again. Had he seen her? Part of her hoped he had. But another part told her she shouldn’t be there.
Every Sunday that she’d made the thirty-minute walk to Kleindeutschland, she found herself having to fight back guilt. If Elise knew where she was, she wouldn’t be happy about it. Even if Uncle Hermann had been about to evict them, even if he’d found new tenants, there was no telling what he might do if he saw them again, especially because they’d stolen from him.
Marianne shook her head in frustration. No, they hadn’t stolen. The money had been rightfully theirs—the wages they’d earned from their long hours of sewing in the sweatshop. Even when Mutti had been alive, Uncle had shown no compassion toward his sister. Instead he’d required Mutti to give him most of their earnings—to pay for room and board, he’d claimed.
Uncle had always demanded much, had belittled them, and had been dangerous when drunk, which was often. Then after spending all their earnings at the beer hall, there had been very little left for food and fuel. Even then he’d demanded more money from them. And when they’d had none left to give, he crammed more boarders into the tiny tenement so he’d have their earnings too.
Marianne swallowed the rising fear that came whenever she thought of her uncle and what he was capable of doing if he caught them. He’d likely turn them over to the police for being thieves. But the truth was, when they ran away, they’d only taken back what was theirs in the first place.
Of course, there was also the small matter of Friedric Kaiser, one of Uncle’s new tenants. The dangerous young man had decided he wanted to have Elise as his girl. They couldn’t risk his discovering their new home either.
But they’d been living at the Seventh Street Mission for over a month. Surely they were secure enough that talking with Reinhold wouldn’t jeopardize them. The rioting last month left the city reeling for days, and repairs to businesses were ongoing. The mission, however, was unscathed compared with many other buildings of the area that were looted and destroyed.
Miss Pendleton had just opened the second workshop at the mission. Now there were over forty women employed, all doing seamstress work. The dear woman had given Elise the job of managing the new workers, which had brought a raise of ten cents an hour. Now Elise was earning $1.90 per week, thirty cents more than she’d made working in the tenement sweatshop with Uncle Hermann.
Marianne had hoped the switch to the new workshop would ease the tension that still existed with the Irish workers, but it hadn’t gone away.
Jealousy. Marianne could see it in the eyes of the other women when they looked at her or Elise. They were jealous Miss Pendleton had given Elise the supervisor position even though most of them had worked at the mission longer. They were jealous Miss Pendleton allowed them to live there even though the dormitory was far from ready for occupancy. They were jealous because Sophie and Nicholas and Olivia were able to stay there too, while they had to leave their children home alone during the workdays.
Though the petty disagreements and underhanded bullying continued, at least they were safe, well-fed, and together. Now that they were finally situated, why shouldn’t she tell Reinhold where they were living? Why shouldn’t she resume their friendship? It wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it?
She took a tiny step toward the corner. But as she moved, a hand clamped down on her arm. Panic pushed a scream up her throat. The hand shifted to her mouth and captured the scream before it could alert anyone nearby of her predicament.
“It is you” came Reinhold’s surprised voice.
She swiveled to find Reinhold standing next to her, his ruddy face close, his green eyes alight with pleasure. He released his hold over her mouth, and a smile filled his handsome face.
At the sight of him, she gave a squeal of joy. She couldn’t contain her excitement and threw her arms around him.
His low rumble of laughter accompanied his arms closing about her, enfolding her for a heavenly moment of pure bliss. He’d apparently caught her spying and had sneaked around through the alley behind her. When he pulled back, she wanted to clin
g to him. Yet he held her at arm’s length and assessed her, his smile growing wider.
Marianne couldn’t keep herself from drinking him in. He wasn’t overly tall, but that only made him all the more perfect for looking directly into his mesmerizing eyes. Should she tell him right now that she loved him and wanted to marry him? Before she lost her courage? She’d been dreaming about marrying him since the day they’d first met. Now that she was eighteen, maybe he’d finally see her as a woman instead of a little girl.
“The one Sunday I decide to take a break in my search and I find you.”
“You’ve been searching for us?” Her heart opened wide at the thought that he’d missed her. Maybe even as much as she’d missed him.
His smile faded, his expression turning almost angry. “Of course I’ve been searching. I’ve been going nearly mad with worry. Why didn’t you or Elise tell me you were running away? Why didn’t you come back sooner and let me know you were okay?”
“I have been coming back,” she admitted shyly. “Almost every Sunday. But you’ve always been gone.”
“I’ve been using every spare minute of my day off scouring the streets trying to find any clues about where you’d gone. After having no luck, I decided you somehow found the means to leave the city.”
“So you decided to give up?”
“I don’t think I could have ever given up,” he said, the anger tapering from his voice. “I just thought I should take a day off to be with my family.”
She couldn’t help herself. She threw herself into his arms again. He hugged her tightly as though to reassure himself she was real. She burrowed her face into his shirt and dragged in a deep breath of his musky scent. This time when he started to release her, she clung to him, not caring that she was acting slightly desperate and lovesick.
“Marianne,” he said gently, prying her loose. “Tell me everything. I need to know you’re all safe and well.”
She gave him the quick version of their story, about how after leaving Uncle’s they’d lived on the streets for over a week before Miss Pendleton had found them and brought them to her new mission where they’d been for the past month.