My Heart Belongs in Galveston, Texas

by Kathleen Y'Barbo

  Jonah reached to thread his fingers through hers. “We are staying together then, Madeline.”

  “You’re here,” Commander Montlake whispered.

  Madeline jumped to her feet and then forced a smile. “We’ve been here for hours, Commander, just as you asked. Detective Cahill is with me.”

  “Cahill,” he said, shifting his gaze to Jonah. “Yes, good man.”

  The commander closed his eyes. Madeline looked over at Jonah and tightened her grip on his hand. Until now she’d never had to watch a man die. It had seemed so easy to make such a vow and already so hard to keep it.

  “Come closer, child. I have a story to tell.”

  Madeline returned to the chair that put her nearer to the old gentleman. “I am here,” she told him.

  “This story has burdened me for so long that I don’t know if freeing myself of it will help, but I will try.”

  “Sir, don’t talk and tire yourself.”

  “I must. You see, if I do not, then who will? Lives are at stake here. I am the only one who can right that wrong, and I will not go to my grave with this on my conscience. I cannot.”

  Though the doctors had declared that the commander’s injuries were internal, it appeared he must have hit his head or suffered from some deprivation of breathing in the course of his accident. For truly, he made no sense.

  “Shall I call for a priest or pastor?” she asked him.

  “Don’t want either here right now. You are the one to whom I must confess. You and the detective will know what to do with what I am about to tell you.” He shifted positions to turn his head in her direction. “I was a man of war well before I made that designation official. Very few who know me know this, but now you do.”

  A nurse stepped into the room. “Is he awake?”

  “Out,” the commander managed, his voice rough.

  The nurse’s brows rose. “Well now, that answers my question.” Her gaze swept the length of Madeline’s damp and sand-covered attire.

  “We were at the beach,” Madeline explained.

  “Generally one changes into clean clothing before visiting a hospital, but then generally one does not swim in the same clothing one would wear to a hospital.” She shook her head. “I will leave you to your conversation and return later.”

  “See that you do,” he snapped with more strength than Madeline expected him to have. “Sailors these days have no good training. In my day we’d be hung by the yardarm for interrupting a superior officer,” the commander grumbled. “Now where was I? Oh yes, my story. It begins when I was forced to make a choice. You understand, Detective Cahill, that an order is an order and once given should not be questioned, do you not?”

  “Under most circumstances, I would agree,” Jonah said.

  The commander returned his attention to Madeline. “I make no excuses. I owed a debt of life and I paid that debt back. She would have taken the child.”

  Madeline looked back at Jonah and saw her feelings mirrored in his expression. She gripped the side of her chair.

  “Who would have taken the child?” Jonah asked him before she could.

  The commander coughed and then gasped to catch his breath. “Women on a ship. Bad luck, if you ask me.”

  His voice had lost its dignified edge. It was as if the commander was gone and a young man was left in his place. His eyelids fluttered and then closed. At any moment, he could draw his last breath.

  Madeline decided to take a risk and skip all the other questions to ask the one she most wanted answered. “Commander,” she said gently, “where did you take the baby?”

  “Priest said she’d be safe.” His eyes opened, although Madeline wasn’t certain he could see her.

  “What priest? Where, sir?”

  Commander Montlake fell into what appeared to be a deep sleep. She reached down to shake him but could not get the old gentleman to awaken.

  “Let him rest, Madeline,” Jonah said. “We could bring him back a pudding or something soft and easy to manage in case he is hungry.”

  Madeline adjusted the blankets and tucked the commander’s hand back under them. His breathing was even and deep, his color slightly less pale than it had been.

  “All right, but we’re going to hurry and come back quickly.”

  “I promise,” Jonah said as he led her away.

  They found an empty table at the restaurant across the street and ordered quickly. While they waited for their meal to arrive, Madeline reached into her pocket and then groaned.

  “What’s wrong?” Jonah asked.

  “I thought to write down what Commander Montlake told us.”

  “If we weren’t in a hurry, I would take you down to the stationer’s after we eat to buy a replacement,” he said.

  Madeline shook her head. “I have the one Madame gave me. I’ll just have to get over the fact the jewels make it a little fancy for everyday use.”

  Jonah laughed, and then his expression sobered as their food was delivered. Once the waiter left them alone, he regarded Madeline with a curious look.

  “Let’s talk about what the commander said. If he is talking about the same baby we are looking for—”

  “And we are reasonably certain he is,” she supplied.

  “We are. So what do you make of his comment about the priest?”

  “I think it fits with our theory that either the three of them got to Galveston somehow…”

  “Or they washed ashore and somehow found a priest at whatever location that was,” he finished.

  “Agreed,” she said. “So where would a priest take a newborn child?”

  “The orphanage,” he said. “If the child was delivered to Galveston, no matter how she got here, she would have been given over to the sisters.”

  “Could a priest maybe bring her to someone who might already be nursing a child?”

  Jonah exhaled a long breath. “It’s possible.”

  Madeline sat back and placed her fork beside her plate. “So we really don’t know that much more than we did before the commander woke up.”

  “That’s not true,” Jonah said. “We know the child was handed over to a priest, and we are left to assume that priest handed the child over to someone to care for her.”

  “Hold on, Jonah,” Madeline said as a thought occurred. “What if the priest didn’t give her to the nuns?”

  “We already established that he might have taken the child to someone already nursing. Is that what you mean?”

  Madeline shook her head. “Not exactly. What if he knew someone who wanted a child?”

  “And gave someone else’s child to them?” Jonah paused and seemed to consider the possibility. “I just don’t see it happening, Madeline. Wouldn’t that be against his vows?”

  “Against his vows, I don’t know, but if he was told who the child’s parents were, then yes, it would be wrong. However, what if he wasn’t told who the parents were?”

  “Why wouldn’t he?” Jonah asked.

  “I don’t know.” She sighed. “I am out of answers.”

  A short while later, Madeline gathered up the meal they had purchased to take to Commander Montlake and walked with Jonah back to the hospital. The sun had long ago set, and the evening air had cooled. Her skirts had dried a wrinkled mess and her shoes were full of sand, but Madeline hardly cared.

  They were so close to information that might lead them to Samuel and Eliza’s daughter. So very close.

  Turning the corner at the end of the corridor, Madeline found the curtain pulled around the commander’s cot. The sound of a man’s voice, deep and soft, stilled her hand just before she reached for the curtain.

  She looked back at Jonah. “There’s someone with him.”

  Jonah took the wrapped food they’d brought and pressed past Madeline. “Excuse me,” he said as he pulled back the curtain just enough to see inside. Madeline crowded behind him to peer in.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt,” Jonah said softly. “We brought Commander Montlake s
omething to eat if he’s up to it.”

  A gentleman with close-cropped iron-gray hair rose abruptly and turned to face him, his eyes wide. “He is sleeping, but thank you. You’re very kind.”

  “Jonah Cahill,” Jonah said. “I don’t believe we’ve met?”

  “No, I don’t believe we have,” the older man said as he placed the wrapped food on the table beside the cot. “Father Brendan,” he said. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  “Father?” Jonah said as casually as she’d ever heard him. “Are you the man who took the Smith child from Commander Montlake?”

  The priest stepped back as if he’d been slapped. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, young man.”

  Jonah studied him a moment. “I think you do.”

  “I assure you, I do not.”

  His tone conveyed his obvious confusion. Madeline decided to step in and help. “So you’re the priest here in Galveston?”

  Of all the times not to have her notebook. Madeline did her best to commit the man’s description to memory.

  “One of them, yes,” he said, appearing grateful the subject had been changed.

  “I wonder if we could bother you with some questions,” she asked. “Just a few and we’ll leave you and the commander in privacy.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said as he opened the curtain farther and stepped around Jonah. “But I must get to an appointment. Perhaps tomorrow?”

  “What time tomorrow?” Jonah asked as he followed the priest down the hall.

  Madeline returned to the folding chair she had left at Commander Montlake’s bedside and reached over to adjust his blankets. The elderly gentleman seemed unchanged since they left earlier, a fact that gave Madeline much relief.

  Jonah returned, shaking his head. “The priest was of no help. I told him what the commander said and why we asked if he was that priest. He agreed a child without parents would go to the orphanage but could offer nothing further, but he was vague at best on a meeting. I left him my card, and he said he would call on me as soon as he could.”

  “So he was not here back in 1855, then.”

  “He said he is newly arrived since last fall and came from San Antonio,” Jonah said. “So no.”

  “How does he know the commander?”

  “He said they are old acquaintances from childhood.” Jonah shrugged. “I saw no reason to disbelieve him, but I have a feeling something isn’t right.”

  “He seemed nice enough,” she said. “And he’s a priest. What could be wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Jonah agreed. “And yet…”

  “And yet we back up our hunches with facts,” she reminded him.

  “Then tomorrow I’ll go down to the church and investigate the facts. Tonight, however, I need to get you home.”

  “Oh, Jonah, I don’t want to leave him.”

  “He’s fine,” Jonah said as he looked past Madeline to the man lying on the cot. “Look how well he’s sleeping. We can come back tomorrow, but let him have his peace and quiet tonight.”

  Jonah was right. There was nothing left to be done here tonight. Still, Madeline rose reluctantly.

  “Would it make you feel better if I asked the nurse to send for us should his condition change?”

  Madeline nodded and then watched as Jonah went hunting for the nurse. He returned with the nurse, her expression telling Madeline she was not pleased.

  “Are you family?” she demanded.

  “Of a sort,” Madeline said. “We are all he has except for the gentleman who was just here. At least as far as we know.” The nurse continued to scowl, so Madeline made one more attempt. “Do you have a father?”

  “I do,” she said, giving Madeline a sideways look. “Why do you ask?”

  “If he was ill and you weren’t able to attend to him, wouldn’t you want him to have a friend watch over his care?”

  Her face softened slightly. “What is that on the table there?”

  “We brought him something to eat in case he gets hungry,” Jonah offered. “We are hoping he will wake up and wonder why his stomach is so empty.”

  She glanced down at the chair. “And you will leave me with a place to rest my bones?”

  “Yes,” Jonah said. “The chair is yours.”

  The nurse offered him a smile. “Then tell me how I can reach you in case you’re needed.”

  Jonah retrieved a card from his pocket and handed it to the nurse.

  “A Pinkerton man?” she said, brows raised. “Impressive.”

  “For ten years now. This man is important to us, so please send for me.” He told her where he lived.

  “Oh yes, I know that house. Built on the ashes of La Maison Rouge.”

  “That is the one,” Jonah responded evenly, “but don’t believe what you read in the papers about the house.”

  She gave him a knowing look. “No, of course not,” she said as she shooed them out of the ward.

  “So tomorrow, then?” Madeline said when they were back outside walking under the stars.

  “First thing,” he said.

  They walked along in silence until they reached Broadway Avenue. “Madeline,” Jonah said when they arrived at the gate. “I don’t want to say good night.” He grinned. “And yet, I really do want to kiss you good night.”

  He gathered her to him and held her then slowly lowered his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and gentle, his embrace tender.

  “I love you, Madeline,” he said against her ear. “I never stopped even when I was too stubborn to admit it.”

  “I’m glad only one of us is stubborn,” she told him with mock seriousness. Then her expression softened as she looked up into his eyes. “I love you too, Detective Cahill, and I have for a very long time.”

  “Good night, Madeline,” he said as he stole another kiss and then walked away.

  Madeline walked into the house and nearly stumbled over something on the floor. She reached down to grab a stuffed rabbit that had been left in the way.

  “The child,” Gretchen said as she walked toward Madeline to snatch up the toy. “He is a menace.”

  Madeline stifled her smile until she’d reached her own room. Then she laughed out loud.

  True to his word, Jonah was back first thing the next morning. What little sleep he’d gotten was filled with dreams of Madeline, first as a carefree woman dancing in the surf and then kissing him under the stars.

  Marriage couldn’t come soon enough for him. Whether Madeline felt the same remained to be seen. He would ask her soon enough, but first he had to write to her father for permission.

  He’d done that during the night as well, posting the letter on his way to the beach to make an unsuccessful search for Madeline’s necklace. Now he sat in the same swing he’d shared with Madeline yesterday and waited for her to appear on the porch.

  At least he’d thought to bring a change of footwear. His ruined boots, newly wet from this morning’s trek through the surf, sat drying in the sun on the edge of the porch. He’d claim them later though they were good for little else other than continuing his search for that blasted key she’d lost.

  Jonah gave thought to what she claimed about the key, and something struck him as odd. She’d said that keys were very important to the Latour family, but she had not said why.

  “I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” she told him as she stepped outside. “I can tell from your expression that you didn’t find my necklace.”

  “I will look again at the next low tide. I’m not giving up,” he said. “I’m sorry. I know it was important to you.”

  “And to my father,” she said.

  “Why is that, Madeline?”

  Her eyes widened as if she was surprised he’d asked. Then she looked away. His Pinkerton training told him he’d hit a nerve.

  “Because my father told me it was.” She shrugged. “In any case, I do apologize for leaving you sitting here so long, but there’s a funny story to go along with my excuse.”

  Jonah bri
efly considered steering the subject back to the key but decided against it. He’d find out soon enough. “All right. Let’s hear that story, then,” he said as he nodded toward the walkway.

  “It appears little Jordy enjoys playing with his food, a fact I was not warned about until after he’d generously shared his scrambled eggs and biscuits with me.”

  Jonah followed her down the front steps. “That was nice of him.”

  “It might have been,” she agreed. “Except that he threw the entire meal and ruined my dress.”

  “Ah,” he said. “That’s different.”

  She grinned as Jonah opened the gate for her. “He’s so cute, though. Just an adorable child, when he isn’t throwing food, that is. And Annabelle seems very sweet. I know Madame is thrilled to have them staying with her.”

  Madeline giggled and seemed to be thinking of something that amused her.

  “What?” he asked.

  “While Madame is thrilled, Gretchen is not.” She shrugged. “That makes having to give her extra laundry to wash almost pleasant.”

  Jonah shook his head as he escorted Madeline onto the trolley and to a seat near the front. Owing to the early hour, the trolley was nearly empty. They rode in silence until they reached the hospital.

  “I’m hoping he’s up to speaking to us again,” Madeline said as they walked from the trolley stop toward the hospital.

  They stepped inside and followed the hallway down to the end and then turned toward the commander’s cot. The curtain was open and the cot was empty. Even the folding chair was gone.

  Madeline stopped short. “Oh, Jonah,” she said softly. “He’s gone.”

  Jonah pressed past her to look around the small area and then turned back to her. “Wait here.”

  He found the nurse making good use of Madeline’s folding chair by taking a nap in a closet adjacent to the nursing station. Once he woke her up, she explained Commander Montlake’s miracle recovery and return home.

  Jonah nodded toward the old man’s cot where Madeline now stood. “Tell her what you just told me.”

  She sighed and climbed to her feet then walked down the hall to stand in front of Madeline. “The father came back to stay with Mr. Montlake, must have been about a half hour after you two left. Wasn’t an hour later, I see him helping the patient out of bed. He tells me there’s been a miracle recovery and his friend can go home. What was I to do? Since they were friends, I didn’t think it would matter if I sent for you.”